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.

22. Festering Scars

For a being born in darkness, it stood to reason that darkness would be comforting. After all, when light as gentle as a candle flame could cause pain to one's eyes, it was no surprise that such a being would seek the darkness to make their home.

However, as the darkness swallowed Sen and Dahlia, the two of them hurtling down the throat of that mountain cavern, he found no comfort in that cold, clawing darkness. The frayed rope, uselessly trailing above them, was little more than a reminder of his failure as his mind frantically sought any recourse that could save them.

Then the darkness came to life.

To the sensitive eyes of the drow, darkness was a living thing. It breathed and flowed with the grace of a predator, fluid in its movement as it plunges the depths of every crack and crevice, doggedly seeking both prey and sanctuary from fearsome light. Despite the flashes of muzzle fire, the glow of Jonathan's magical orb, the torches bandied about by friend and foe alike, the darkness stretched from its hovels and snapped toward them, wrapping both Sen and Dahlia in a net of safety that could only be summoned by a child of darkness.

It was a secret shared only among the high born nobles of the dark elves, a spell that called the living shadows to their aid. Sen, his birth name simply Sendori Ruasar, earned his long title through deeds and achievements that had been noticed by jealous eyes.

He was not high born.

As they both came to a vigorous but gentle stop, floating in midair on a barely perceptible bed of shadow that bolstered their own, Sen glanced down at Dahlia in shock. Her arms were clasped around him in terror, her face huddled close to his chest as she chanted a language Sen had not heard since he had left his homeland in Xhorhaus. Although her face was nearly buried in his armor, the pieces were falling into place, and it was painfully clear who had cast the spell.

In shock, as the singed end of the rope fell limply past them, Sen grasped Dahlia close to him and desperately tried to steady his breathing. He wasn't going to die today. Hopefully.

"Are we…okay?" he wheezed, glancing down at her as best he could. She tensed in his arms and immediately switched to Tal'Dorein.

"Please…Please tell them you did this…! Please!" she whimpered, her voice thick as she suppressed tears of fear.

Only one race knew how to levitate using shadows. Only one caste of them taught their children, and they jealously kept such a secret among those of their bloodlines. Only one race openly spoke such a language that could cast that heirloom spell, a language born of betrayal and hidden agendas, although his country had been evolving the language for generations.

He knew Dahlia's secret.

"Dorn telanth ol zhahus unsa," he whispered, slipping into his home tongue to reassure her that her companions would know he was the one who cast the spell. She nodded her thanks, and his suspicions were confirmed that she could understand.

Then he heard the click of a rifle hammer being pulled back into place.

His whole body tensed. In an an unconscious move to protect her, as he floated in the air on his back, he gripped Dahlia closer to his chest, and he slowly turned toward the sound. Directly level with his eyes, pointed right between them, was the barrel of a roughshod rifle held in the hands of a livid dwarf. The darkness hid color from them, as Sen's particular variety of drow had long since lost the sensitivity to infrared vision, but it was more than clear that the eyes he met with his own had nothing but utter loathing toward him.

Just below the man's eyes was the lack of jaw that Sen's lucky shot, back in the lab, had forced upon the stocky man. It had been quickly healed with magic, and so thin, scarred skin stretched over frayed muscle and a damaged esophagus, as a stump of a tongue rolled across it from behind the meager flap of flesh that remained of the dwarf's lower lip. Sen almost recoiled in horror when he realized, just hours ago, what that horrid gurgling sound in the smoke of the infiltrated lab had truly meant.

Despite the barrel of a rifle being level with his eyes, Sen had a moment where he was thankful Dahlia was blind.

"Wait…that's where I hit you?" he whispered in shock. He had known his shot had done significant damage to the dwarf, enough to disrupt his ability to speak (although not quickly enough to avoid the thief casting Dimension Door out of the room), but he had no idea it had been such a mutilating blow.

The dwarf hissed and gurgled, a hole in his neck spitting as his eyes clearly communicated rage at the drow floating prone with a woman on his chest. The man cut short his garbled diatribe and tensed the trigger, the spring groaning audibly as the hammer threatened to snap.

"Wait! Wait. Please. This isn't about her. I won't resist," Sen pleaded, one hand out to somehow block the barrel from aiming at Dahlia, but it was just out of his reach. "Please, let us come to ground, and I will kneel."

Dahlia whispered forcefully into Sen's chest, a soft light barely peeking from beneath her chin, but it was unnoticed by both men. The dwarf's eyes were focused solely on his target, desperate for revenge against the man who had single-handedly stolen his ability to cast magic with a simple bullet. Sen's eyes struggled to match the dwarf's, and the intensity of the man's fury was so great that Sen failed to realize his allies were making a desperate bid to catch up to them.

They were too late.

Ka-boom!

The cloud of smoke and sparks was far greater than anyone had expected, and for a breathless moment, all parties were obscured. In the still, stagnant air of the cavernous pit they hovered above, the smoke drifted slowly in the space, tenaciously clinging to its ephemeral life as the glow within it clearly shifted from firelight to sunlight. All witnesses struggled to adjust their eyes to the bright glow beneath them, but finally, the smoke wafted away and the scene was revealed.

Sen was wrapped around Dahlia, his body wrenched to the side in an effort to block the shot with his own flesh and bones, despite the levitation spell restricting his movement. The dwarf had stumbled backward, the shattered pieces of a ruined rifle both around him and in his hands. Dahlia, her eyes intense but directionless, had one arm out towards a spear of sunlight, a ray of illumination between them, that had been summoned directly within the barrel of the thief's rifle.

Even though a holy spiritual weapon may not have been strictly corporeal, it was certainly solid enough to strike an enemy, and that was solid enough to block a bullet.

"Holy shit," Al breathed from a nearby shadow.

The shock of the moment was broken by that sound, and Sen reacted first. He drew his pistol and fired three quick shots, all striking the dwarf in the left shoulder and arm with surprising accuracy, despite his prone position in midair. The dwarf stumbled backward, gripping at the wound as his eyes flashed with anger, but Zoe, Al, and Gauth all appeared from the darkness to land on the ledge, and the dwarf turned and bolted deeper into the shadows behind him.

At that moment, there was silence, lit only by the divine spear that hovered in the air beside them. Their enemies had been routed, and Zoe felt she had the time to turn to Dahlia and Sen as the former drifted the latter toward the ledge to stand.

"Holy shit are you two okay?!" Zoe blurted, her words almost joined at the hip as Sen helped Dahlia to her feet. Unfortunately, the very rapid and close-proximity explosions from the firearms had temporarily stunted Dahlia's hearing, and it was clear from her shaking knees that she was suffering from vertigo as she recovered.

Sen, however, was far more used to the loud noises and turned to the companions with a relieved, if nervous, smile. "Yes! Yes, we're okay. I've never actually used Levitate before, and that was an experience!" he said with an awkward laugh.

Jayce, Jonathan, and Bera finally caught up with the others as Zoe nearly folded in half with a breath of relief. Leaning on her knees, she wheezed, "Holy fuck, man, talk about cutting it close! Pretty sure that pit is bottomless!"

Jonathan glanced behind him at the yawning darkness below and took a step away from the edge as his skin crawled. He wasn't normally affected by heights, but something about endlessly falling into an abyss seemed particularly terrifying. He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention and to distract himself from the shadows below.

"So, the man who fired at you, did you see where he went?" he asked.

Sen pointed to a large fissure in the wall, opposite the ledge. "He went that way. His rifle is…" He paused for a moment to less than subtly indicate the mess of shrapnel scattered about his feet. "-around, so he'll only have his other tools. And I may have shot out his throat back in the lab, so he's pissed. Particularly at me," Sen added, as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

Bera clutched at her throat in horror. "How is he alive?!"

Gauth grunted in frustration and stepped over her, toward the fissure beyond their small space. "We need to finish this," he growled.

"Wait! No!"

Dahlia dove in front of Gauth and bodily blocked his way, her arms out, her normally tightly restrained hair loose and tangled across her face in whisps. Even so, her look of panic was what caught their attention, but it was Sen who responded first.

"Wait?" he asked, already halfway through reloading his pistol. "Why?"

"No more killing, please!" she begged, her arms still outstretched to physically block the way forward. "Please! We don't need to spill more blood than has already been spilt! We-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Al snapped. He motioned to a burned hole in his cloak, which would have been a fatal shot through his lung if it had been aimed simply an inch to the left. "They're trying to kill us, and you want to spare them?!"

Dahlia desperately thought through possible arguments for sparing their attackers. There had to be something! There had to be a way to avoid more death.

A thought came to mind. "And, and if they die, who will pay for their crimes? Who will tell us if we've trimmed the stalk, or the root?" she pleaded while facing Al, but her voice was directed to the group in general. "We need a witness! Please!"

"Then we take him alive, even if he can't speak," Sen cut in. He finished reloading his pistol, spun the chamber, and snapped it shut. "We still need to find the residuum. Who's ready?"

"Last thing."

Everyone turned toward Jayce, his frame illuminated by the blue-black flame that licked his shoulders with oily fire. His eyes flashed with a dangerous glare. "It comes down to you or them, they die," he hissed. "No quarter, got it?"

Gauth chuckled with murderous glee and flexed his fingers, eagerly anticipating the coming battle. His reaction was no surprise, but the unanimous agreement from the others was more disappointing to Dahlia. Her mind immediately began planning, desperately searching for options should the worst come to pass. She had to protect their lives, wherever possible, even if her assailants had no such qualms about hers.

Sen nodded to Al, and the two of them dashed into the fissure and into the darkness beyond. Immediately, Al was thankful for the grip of his special boots; the ground was not the convenient flat surface of a silt-formed cavern or the tunnel of some burrowing beast, but the slanted grade of two immovable objects that had crashed together from some mighty force. Unbeknownst to them both, what Al and Sen were traversing was the seam between what was once two mountains, blown together and fused into one by the divine wrath of battling gods.

As such, what few footholds they could find constantly threatened to slip away from their feet, and there were pockets of darkness so deep both wondered if the world ended just inches below them. In their silence, their breath seemed nearly perceptible; miles of stone around them deafened all natural noise that was familiar to them, only to echo the alien sounds of a strange world neither could hope to understand.

The make-shift tunnel came to a jarring twist that forced them to squeeze past a sharp corner, a boulder that could do well as a giant's wedge or blade. Beyond was a thin corridor, one they nearly had to straddle as the floor was hardly better than a seam of two angled planes that met at an awkward middle below them. Al easily made his way through but had to pause in confusion when he realized Sen had stopped suddenly to reach for something in the shallow crevice. With a roll of his eyes, Al continued, but hesitated the second he realized an artificial light flickered just ahead of them.

"You there?"

Al twitched hard when Sen's whispered voice slipped past his ear, and he grunted in frustration at his nerves when he turned to see how exactly Sen had failed to notice the half-elf directly in front of him. To his surprise, Sen actually had a hand to his ear, two fingers pressed upon the strange earring that was the twin of the one he had handed to Jonathan earlier.

Sen glanced behind him in response to something imperceptible to Al's ears, and then leaned to see past him. Al had to smirk to himself as he noticed Sen really had lost track of him in the dark.

"There's a split ahead of you. It gets thin, so step carefully. Know that he has a small firearm like me, but he lost his ammo." Sen pocketed a small bag of shot in his own ammo bag as he spoke. That must have been what he bent over to grab. "Estimating six shots max."

Whatever the answer may have been, Sen stepped forward, almost past the edge where the light could be seen. Al put up a hand and stopped Sen short with a gentle shove back against his chest. It was a temptation Al could not resist; In a move that could be construed as blocking roving eyes from seeing them both, Al fanned out his black cloak behind him as he lightly shoved Sen slightly back into the passage, nearly putting them chest to chest. With grim satisfaction, Al noted Sen did not shy away, and he put a finger to his lips to indicate they needed to be quiet.

Sen nodded, leaning forward just slightly enough to nearly put his chin over Al's shoulder. Both were quiet as the voices ahead muttered and hissed, accented only by the sounds of a sputtering gurgle.

"Escape…" Sen whispered, clearly quoting what he heard. Al grunted in annoyance. He blamed his inability to catch anything said on having a bad day, rather than only having half of the ancestry of the elves.

Sen turned his head slightly, just enough to whisper in Al's ear, as he pressed a hand to his earring to also magically convey the message to the rest of the team. "There are at least two more. They're running scared. I can't tell why for sure."

Al, despite being close enough to nearly press Sen into full body contact, rolled his eyes and hissed, "Maybe it's because we're trying to fucking kill them."

Sen gave Al a glance and listened to Jonathan on the other end of the telepathic link, and then dropped his hand to look Al in the eye. "This almost feels like more than that, catpaw. Let's take them alive if possible. Dahlia may be right about this."

Al bit his lip and looked away in embarrassment. "And here I was thinking she was just getting squeamish again," he mumbled.

Sen pressed his palm against Al's hip to gently twist him away, his focus clearly on the thieves ahead. "Probably part of it. You ready? I can go forward first."

Al smirked. He wasn't sure if Sen was flirting with him just yet, but it was clear the drow didn't mind the proximity. He decided to push it with a thinly veiled comment. "I don't mind coming up behind," he said with a wink.

Sen almost didn't catch Al's intent, but when he felt Al subtly press his body against the rock wall behind him, it was hard to ignore. He started to think back on the few interactions he and Al have had so far, and while a little confused at the half-elf's meaning, he wasn't one to pass on a chance for a game of wits. With a smirk of his own, Sen pulled Al's hip into his and whispered into his ear, "I'll try not to sway too much," before gently turning him away and heading to the edge of the light, his sword now in his right hand, and his gun pulled and ready in his left.

Al immediately felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him as he leaned on the rock wall for support. So he wasn't wrong! Relieved, and somewhat giddy from the discovery, Al shook his head to clear it and silently snuck off to the side of the small chamber with an awkwardly angled floor.

Within it, three thieves desperately pressed forward for escape. In the center was the mutilated dwarf, hissing and sputtering in pain as his bloody shoulder hindered his attempt to enter a thin crevasse in the wall. Beside him were two others, a woman in a black robe with a bloody bag in her hands, her form mostly hidden behind a ragged grey cloak, and a humanoid that was completely obscured beneath a grey cloak of obvious quality, their form strong and confident even in the darkness. Between them, the only light that illuminated their space was a glittering green from the bloody bag, and it was clear to both Sen and Al what was inside.

The residuum.

Unfortunately, another movement caught their eyes. The hidden humanoid shifted enough to glance in their direction, and while they were able to successfully hide, they had both seen what the humanoid carried.

A rifle. A clearly high quality, solid rifle that had the tell-tale customizations of a de Rolo special. A Grey Hunter.

There was betrayal in Lady Vex'halia's ranks.

Sen felt his heart quicken with the rage he had on the de Rolo's behalf, and he had to resist the urge to start firing then. It was an honor to work with Percival; the man had been nothing but noble and encouraging with his craft, and now here was a weapon practically pointed at his mentor and patron. Taking a moment to breathe and calm his thoughts, he brought a hand to his ear and whispered, "How close?"

There was silence, a hesitation in the response, but Al quickly noticed exactly why. With a silent tap on Sen's shoulder, he pointed to the path behind him, where several shapes were vaguely illuminated by Jonathan's spectral orbs. Most obvious among them were the reflective quality of Jayce's cat-like eyes, and Al failed to suppress a shudder at the image now burned in his mind.

Jonathan quickly signaled that he, and the others, were ready to engage. Al nodded his thanks and turned back to Sen with a questioning look.

With a cool steel gaze, Sen nodded to Al and whispered, "Be ready to jump in." He looked back to the entrance of the light, where the three thieves were still trying to escape, and with three steadying breaths, Sen charged in. His gun pointed at the Grey Hunter specifically, he announced, "End of the line! Surrender and-!"

Simultaneously, the rifle and pistol fired. The Grey Hunter snapped up the rifle with deadly accuracy and fired directly at Sen, but the dark elf had expected such a reaction and fired back accordingly. Unfortunately for the Grey Hunter, Sen's pistol was designed to reload and fire with each trigger pull, and by the time the Grey Hunter had turned and fired once, Sen had fired thrice.

The explosions were deafening in the small rock chamber, the flashes of light disorienting to them all. The Grey Hunter's bullet struck Sen's arm, clearly aimed for his hand, and tore through just his arm from forearm to elbow as Sen tracked their movement while he fired. Three shots in a line, each aimed for the Grey Hunter's head in his rage, only managed to tug back her hood and reveal her icy, focused glare that was tinged with blood as one of the bullets had managed to sear her temple and blow off her left ear.

As quickly as his reflexes returned, Al slipped into the shadows, ducking along the side of the sloped cavern as the woman in the dark robes dropped the bag of residuum and began chanting a spell. Her hands were wreathed in green fire as she traced runes in the air, but Al managed to reach her in time. With deadly force, Al leapt behind her and buried both daggers deep into her lungs, interrupting her spell at the last moment. He breathed in relief as the spell fizzled out into sparks, wheezing just as pathetically as the mage in his arms.

Sen nearly dropped his gun from the pain and couldn't command his fingers to squeeze hard enough to pull the trigger again. Instead he grunted with the agony of putting the gun back into its holster and charged at the Grey Hunter, his sword pointed at her chest with his dive. The Grey Hunter pulled up her rifle to block the attacks, deflecting the one into a glancing cut into her shoulder, another slash to the side, but she couldn't recover fast enough to block Sen's spin and racking cut across her ribs, cutting a gash into the cloak in the process. He continued to push in as he refused to allow the Grey Hunter a chance to raise her rifle and take another shot at his allies behind him.

The angled floor had shifted Sen's scuffle into the center of the chamber, and the dwarf threw himself out of the crevasse in an attempt to grapple his most hated foe. Unfortunately for him, Zoe came flying over both combatants to land her heel directly in his face, in a move that practically shoved him back into the slightly-too-small crack in the wall. He roared with rage, a sound that gurgled and hissed unnaturally as he painfully pulled his pistol from his belt, but shockingly he refused to fire at his direct attacker. Instead, he managed to shoot twice in Sen's direction, but Zoe's quick palm strikes easily threw his aim off course, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly off the far wall.

With the dwarf occupied, Jayce and Gauth charged in, the latter closing the distance in a single step and the former blasting a ray of blue-black flame directly at the Grey Hunter. With a twist and slide of step, she almost danced around them, her balance perfect as her movements flowed like water around their strikes. Three bolts of purple light, screeching darts in the darkness, wailed toward her, and for a moment her eyes held just a modicum of panic…

But she was not their target. The wheezing mage, who had managed to throw off Al behind them all, grasped something inside her robes just in time for the unerring aim of Magic Missile to explode across her torso. Her body was wracked with bursts of magical fire as she fell, dead, to the ground.

It was one death too many.

A thunderous boom rocked the chamber, the sound amplified by the cold stone that encased them. A voice roared with righteous fury, one that caused them all to pause.

"Hold, or your blood will boil with the wrath of the wronged!"

Simultaneously, everyone in the room hesitantly turned toward Dahlia, her hair flowing around her as divine magic surged in the air of her immediate space. Light crackled and shattered around her, broken sunlight illuminating the black orbs of her eyes. Somehow, in that moment, even Gauth seemed smaller than the tiny elf that channeled divine wrath in front of them.

Cornered, beaten, and outnumbered, the thieves, the Grey Hunter and the dwarf, shared a knowing look before they begrudgingly dropped their weapons.

They knew that death would not save them from their master's ire.

Sen had so many questions, but he had to work first. Sheathing his sword, he stepped around the Grey Hunter and pulled a rope, biting his tongue to suppress the pain in his arm while he restrained her. Jayce, in an attempt to help, stepped forward and offered his expertise when it came to knots, and the Grey Hunter was quickly and effectively restrained.

Jayce pulled back her hood to more clearly see who they had fought, and Sen collected her rifle to look it over. While it was well made, the finer details were lost to him in the dark of the cave that mixed with the light of Jonathan's orbs. His eyes stung with pain as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and gave her face one more look. Those were details he could see.

"I thought you looked new," Sen hissed at her. Turning to the group, he said, "Let's get them to the surface. And make sure to check for weapons." Following his own instructions, he searched the hunter for anything else that could be used to hurt them, pulling several small weapons and objects that he pocketed in his bag for now.

Jayce roughly grabbed the woman's chin and forced her to turn toward him. Her gaze had been crestfallen up to that point, but now they had no recourse but to match Jayce's slitted eyes. Immediately, they flared with anger, but as of yet, she had refused to speak, and continued to be silent.

"You know this woman?" he asked, while he maintained eye contact with the Grey Hunter. Somehow, it seemed dangerous to look away, even though the woman was clearly restrained.

Sen took a closer look at a pistol he pulled off the Grey Hunter as he responded, "She was on guard at the Grey Hunt Manor this evening. I know most of the hunters, even helped assemble a few of their rifles, and I couldn't see her face. That stood out to me." Wincing in pain, Sen centered himself as he put the pistol away and grabbed his arm. "Make sure those restraints are tight, will you? I need to check everything is accounted for."

With a nod, Jayce stepped behind the Grey Hunter to pull the knots tight again, more for his comfort than to check their strength. Gauth had finally succeeded in extricating the dwarf from the rocks, as Zoe's attack had left the man properly wedged in the crevasse, and some levity was felt as Zoe made multiple comments about talking to a wall. Before Jonathan could chide her for the pun or Bera could pull out a torch from her bag, Dahlia could finally wait no longer.

"Who's hurt?" she called, her arms out as she tried to find anyone in that disorienting slanted room. "I smell blood, but there's so much. Please talk to me!"

Jayce quickly stepped over to her and took her arm in his, patting just above her elbow with a free hand as he tried to calm her. "Everyone's hurt, Dahlia, but it's alright. It's over."

Dahlia shook her head, but she did seem to calm at his voice. "It's not over until I know you are all safe. Help me find a place to sit where I won't roll off into a wall."

"Yeah, this fuckin' floor's a goddamn challenge," Jayce snickered. In a moment, he had Dahlia seated on a stone and, in the same instant Bera had finally managed to light her torch, Dahlia began to glow with soft light as she prayed.

"Okay, so Jayce literally just said we're all bleeding, and she takes a break?" Al hissed under his breath. Zoe nudged him, hard, with her elbow and shot him a glare, but instead of taking back his comment, Al shot her an incredulous look that demanded to know how he was wrong.

Zoe rolled her eyes and motioned to Al's ear. "She is working, asshole. Look. You're not bleeding anymore."

Al touched his ear and was shocked to notice that, indeed, the blood had subsided. "The hell? It's only been a few minutes." He looked over to Dahlia's glow and noted even Jayce's bruise had begun to fade from his face. "Since when could she do that? Isn't there supposed to be a burst of magic?"

Zoe shrugged with a noise that approximated "I don't know" while Gauth finished tying up the dwarf next to them. Of course, the dwarf had his own, rather violent opinions on the current standing of things, but he had begrudgingly resigned himself to his fate. He just refused to go out with a whimper.

Meanwhile, not even paying attention to what Dahlia was doing, Sen was hunched over the bloodied bag, silently counting the contents inside to himself. He stayed to the side, out of the way, as if to try and hide what was inside the bag.

Thanks to the torch, Zoe easily noted Sen was bent over a bloody bag that probably contained something gruesome or grisly, and her morbid curiosity got the better of her. She sidled up to him and tried to peek, but Sen had positioned himself exactly over the bag to block its view.

Clearly a little uncomfortable with her gaze, Sen asked, "May I have a little space for a moment? Please?"

Zoe smirked and peaked an eyebrow. "Why? There bloody bits in there?"

Sen rolled his eyes but decided to indulge her anyway. "Honestly, no. No gore or gristle beyond what the dwarf left behind. But there is this weird acidic spice smell in the bag that I can't place…" Sen closed the bag and stored it in his own for safe keeping.

As he did so, Zoe noted that his bag looked much too small to hold that and whatever else he had placed inside it, and she came to the conclusion this dark elf had a Bag of Holding. That would be handy to have on future adventures! She wondered if they could possibly get one as part of the reward.

"That's just what magic smells like," Zoe beamed, giddy about the future possibilities of working with the de Rolos, especially the idea of receiving a Bag of Holding. "Must be pretty strong if you can smell it without shoving your face in the bag. Dahlia usually has to be right up in it to catch a whiff of anything."

Clearly skeptical of the comment, Sen asked, "Okay then, what does a vingery cumin smell mean?"

Zoe had a broad smile on her face as she recounted the various types. "Arcane magic! There's divine, druidic, bardic, demonic, and arcane, and they all have different smells! Just ask Dahlia if you don't believe me," she added with a wink.

"I may just have to. I have to wonder what spell was used though. And I do have a theory…" Sen mumbled to himself. Looking around to see if everyone else was done, he asked the room, "Was there anything else of note on the others?"

Al kicked a small pile of daggers and a pistol on the ground. "Just weapons, some rations, and a map."

At the mention of a map, Sen's attention was peaked. "A map for where?"

Bera stepped over and hopped up just long enough to snatch a paper from Al's hand. It only took a moment of looking through it to identify the land in question.

"Looks like…the Parchwood north of here, behind the de Rolo estate." Bera cocked an eyebrow as she read the script on it. "Although it's marked 'Briarwood' on this one. Weird."

At the mention of the Briarwoods, Sen's demeanor visibly soured. "Vithun Briarwoods," he swore as he turned to the Grey Hunter. In rage he declared to her, "The Briarwoods are dead!"

The Grey Hunter flinched, but despite the defiance on her face, she refused to meet his eyes. Even with Sen shouting in her face, the Grey Hunter said nothing.

Al knelt down next to Bera and matched her curious look. "Any idea what that's about?"

Sudden realization crossed Bera's features and she turned to Al. "Mother's mercy, I can't believe I forgot about it! Some fifty years ago, the Briarwoods were a lord and lady who slaughtered the de Rolos, imprisoning the youngest daughter and torturing her for years. Her elder brother eventually returned, some say from the dead, and he returned the favor after he saved his sister," she whispered.

Al gulped under his breath. "And that's the ruling family?!"

"Yeah, don't cross them," Bera whispered, clearly anxious at the eventual meeting.

"The de Rolos will have plenty to ask about this. Mark my words," Sen growled to the Grey Hunter. Calming his rage for a moment, he asked the group, "Are we ready to move?"

Jonathan immediately perked up from a small book. "Of course! Are we taking the prisoners straight to the de Rolos?"

Al rolled his eyes and Bera nodded in understanding commiseration.

Sen sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead. "We'll be taking them to the guard to be detained," he corrected. "If you're hoping for an introduction, that will come later at a more decent hour."

"Good," Jayce cut in, his irritation clear in his voice. "Because, Jon, we need some fuckin' sleep."

Jonathan glared back at Jayce, but his companions' clear exhaustion at the extremely early morning hour was enough to get him to back down. With a sigh, Jonathan relented and nodded in agreement.

Sen tested the grip in his left hand and then said, "Alright everyone. Let's get who we can to the guard, and then I will sponsor your stay in any inn where you can find room." A little unsure, he added, "I'm not sure the last place will take you back."

Bera gasped as she suddenly remembered their exit from that particular inn, after having previously started (and ended) a bar fight in the common area. "Oh. That's…a pretty good point. Did everyone grab their gear?"

"Uh, pretty sure everybody's got their bags," Zoe said as she stretched a bit to look around the chamber. She had to duck as the dwarf attempted to kick her face as she happened to lean close to Gauth, but she easily avoided the strike. "We should be okay."

"Hang on," Bera cut in. "Speaking of gear, where's your hat?" she asked Sen.

Sen looked briefly confused before brightening with a small chuckle to himself. "It's currently out in the woods being a decoy that was completely ineffective. But don't worry, I promised myself I wouldn't lose it again." With a smile and a wink, the oversized hat popped into existence just above him and landed on his head.

Bera's eyes brightened at the frivolous, but potentially useful, recall magic. "Careful, sir," she purred, "or you'll make me jealous."

Another game of wits! Biting his tongue to keep his smile subtle, Sen asked in a mock defiance, "And if I'm not careful?"

"I'm a climber," Bera giggled, her comment accented with a flirtatious wink of her own.

Everyone paused in a silence where you could hear a pin drop. Bera, gleeful at the attention, simply smiled and cocked her hip while she waited for a response.

Sen's face flushed with the implication and laughed, admitting defeat to himself for not being able to come up with a good retort. "Fair enough! You're a peach, you know that?"

Bera grinned and tapped a finger to her chin as she gave the comment some thought. "Oh? Small, sweet, and… Oh, yes, definitely makes sense," she giggled.

"Oh-kay!" Al cut in, exasperated. Were these people really flirting around their captives?! "Enough. Let's get going. We have literal prisoners to move."

With a shrug, Gauth picked up the dwarf and dropped him on his shoulder, despite the dwarf's incredible efforts to escape. While it may have worked against another creature, his attempts were a moot point against the raw strength of a warrior goliath.

Now that the dwarf and the Grey Hunter were properly subdued, they began their trek out of the cavern. The path back was thin and treacherous, and many places required a short leap of faith to reach the next leg of the journey. Thankfully, the going was somewhat easier, as there was less of a risk, or reminder, or falling into the darkness below, so long as they kept their eyes forward.

Finally, they reached the original cavern. The ground was at least mostly even and flat, although the occasional body presented an obstacle to their progress. Despite this, Dahlia walked with confidence, nearly leading the way at Jayce's side, until she slowed her step and sniffed audibly.

"I think I smell rain," she mumbled.

Jayce opened his mouth to speak, but Sen beat him to the punch.

"Strongly?" he asked as Jayce grimaced beside him.

Dahlia shook her head. "It might just be morning dew, but it's been so cold out and we're at a pretty decent elevation. I think it's more likely to be rain, or rain on the horizon."

Sen nodded with a smile. "Good to know. Thankfully the walk back to town isn't that far." He paused for a moment, and looking a little concerned he asked, "Dahlia?"

"Yes, sir?" she answered. Dahlia looked toward him with worry on her face. Jayce gently pulled her slightly to the side, a move that successfully placed him noticeably between the two of them.

Sen briefly let his irritation display on his face before smiling and looking ahead with the question, "Exactly how bad was that candy?"

Dahlia visibly relaxed. "Oh! It-it wasn't that bad," she stammered. She was a little flustered, and thus she had difficulty remembering exactly how the candy tasted. "I just wasn't expecting cinnamon to be spicy. I'm used to tasting it in sweet pastries."

"Not surprised," Sen said with a shrug. "They're not really that common this far south. I had to convince a confectioner in town to try it, and that was after guessing the recipe. Took a few tries to get it right, but they're popular now. Oh! Speaking of-" Sen turned to the goliath behind him, "Garth, did you still want to try one?"

Gauth was so curious about the candy that the sleight against his name didn't even phase him. "I am Gauth, and yes," he said with a broad, almost childish smile.

Al rolled his eyes and elbowed Gauth in the hip. "Didn't you see their reactions earlier?"

Gauth shot Al a look and huffed, "I want to try the candy."

"Suit yourself," Al said with a shrug.

Clearly intent on including his own opinion, the dwarf gargled and hissed a choking bark as he kicked his feet out. His knee nearly collided with Gauth's chin, so to dissuade him from further attempts at bodily harm, Gauth bounced him high enough to violently shoulder the man in the stomach. Thoroughly winded, the dwarf went limp, and Gauth nodded, pleased at the result.

Embarrassed for forgetting the giantkin's name, Sen apologised, "Sorry. Gauth. I'm usually better than this." Turning to Bera, Sen brightly asked, "My lady Peach, would you pass the bag?"

With a flourish and partial curtsy, Bera winked and produced the small drawstring bag that held the aforementioned cinnamon sugarplums. More impatient than polite, Gauth practically snatched the bag with his free hand and shook the bag into his open maw. After nearly the entirety of the contents had been dumped into his mouth, he crunched and crushed the candies as he attempted the look of a culinary connoisseur. Unfortunately, all he managed to look was confused.

''S good," Gauth beamed around the mouthful, and he tossed the bag back to Sen, despite it being just a fraction of its original weight.

Sen barely managed to hold back his laughter at the giantkin's face. "Glad you like them! I'll have to pick up more for when we meet up again later today."

Gauth was clearly pleased, but thankfully did not voice his pleasure around the candy mush in his mouth.

Jayce chuckled and nodded toward Gauth. "Reaction like that's makin' me curious. Any left in there?"

Sen paused for a moment, debating something in his head before smiling pleasantly and saying, "Go ahead and pass them around! Just a warning though; they are strong."

Whether they were simply glad for the distraction or truly were able to ignore their prisoners' plight, the trip back down the mountain was somewhat cheery, due to the entertaining reactions of their companions when they tasted the candy. Poor Jonathan, already a reluctant participant with a known dislike of spicy foods, nearly choked on a sugarplum as the others laughed at his expense. They did pause in their teasing just long enough to descend the root-choked ledge, and a second time when Gauth's axe was finally discovered. Since the giantkin was distracted in that moment, the Grey Hunter kicked out and landed a heel strike directly into Zoe's side, but Al, ready for the attempt, dissuaded the woman from finishing her attack by pressing a readied blade into her throat.

Now pissed, Zoe was far less than kind as she frog marched the woman to the gate at the edge of Whitestone.

It was at this moment that Jayce had released Dahlia, as the path was much more even and predictable, to assist in guarding the Grey Hunter as they walked. As such, no one noticed when Dahlia drifted to the back of the group, as it was easier to follow steps that were audible ahead of her, instead of around her.

Sensing an opportunity, Sen also slowed his pace, and fell into step next to her. Leaning closer to keep it quiet and clearing his throat gently, he asked her in his mother tongue, "Quick question?"

Dahlia winced, her eyes wide in panic as she listened ahead. The others continued their less-than-quiet griping about dealing with live prisoners, and clearly had not heard anything Sen had just whispered. Now that she knew they were safe, she relaxed and nodded to Sen.

"Of course," she said quietly, also in the language of the drow.

Looking nervous and hoping he wasn't crossing any boundaries, he whispered to her, "Are you a princess?"

Dahlia sighed and dropped her gaze to the ground. There was a pause as she debated whether or not her vow would be worth keeping, but she was not one to break promises. "No," she whispered. "I'm a Fourth Daughter, so unless my sisters have suffered a loss between them, I'm not considered one."

Sen still looked a little star struck at the news. Even being a Fourth Daughter commanded a lot of power to the Deep Drow. Born in a town just a mile or two from the surface, he was still considered a surface-born, and he only had stories and history to learn of his once-cursed heritage. It felt to him like he was meeting proof those ghost stories were real. He was both worried and awed at the idea.

"I'll admit, I never thought I'd meet someone like you," Sen added. "How long have you been on the surface?"

Dahlia did some quick math as they walked. "38 years, six months, and…12 days, I think. No, 13 days."

Sen was impressed. "That's surprisingly specific."

"It's a habit…" Dahlia mumbled, embarrassed.

"I do want to ask," Sen continued, cautiously glancing ahead to make sure no one was listening to their hushed conversation. "When do you want to run?"

Dahlia, her face full of regret, shook her head. "I'm sorry. Now that I'm lucid, I know I shouldn't leave them. They've been nothing but kind, and although they know of it through a lie, they are incredibly considerate of my soulsickness. Thank you so much for sharing both my language and my heritage with me in a way I can enjoy, and every part of your kindness that you have extended." She took a breath, hoping against hope that Sen would understand that her particular facet of the drow language put an emphasis on sarcasm, to the point of it being nearly impossible to speak sincerely. Sen hadn't said much, but the inflection of his words were much warmer than anything she had heard in her language before, so she attempted to adopt the speech pattern as her own. "It is truly a gift to me to know that I can live without a magic guise and be safe, provided I surround myself with good people.

"I just hope…that these people will be that safety, if I ever come up with the courage to reveal myself," she said, her voice heavy with anxious sorrow.

Sen did look unsure at her tone at first, but her subtle pauses and stammers told him that she wasn't trying to be malicious in her tone. With his tone still gentle, he asked, "Are you sure you want to stay? Even with that…," There were so many words he wanted to use, but he chose the simplest one. "-racist hurting you?"

Dahlia nearly tripped over her own feet in shock as she turned toward him.

"What gave you that impression?!" she gasped, too shocked to speak in anything but her most recent habit of Tal'Dorein.

Startled and responding in kind, he stated, "What-? What didn't?! You seemed scared of him! And he certainly doesn't hide his temper tantrums!"

"He-! What-! Ugh!" Dahlia pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, out of habit from her days of wearing a blindfold. "I was scared of his reaction to you! I was afraid if-!" Again, she gestured through her frustration toward some invisible target just in front of her, and then she stopped and faced Sen, determined to get everything straightened out. She switched back to the language of the drow to keep the conversation as private as possible, and dropped her voice. "I was concerned that if he learned my true nature, which is clearly obvious to you, I would be immediately ostracized due to his reaction at your pallor. I have come to consider him a dear friend, and while, yes, he has a temper, it is balanced by a heart that is incredibly kind and selfless. Once, upon learning that the child we had sought had been killed before we arrived, he refused to accept any payment from the parents, and spoke to them with softness until they were able to settle safely in their grief."

Sen was stunned. Beyond the fact that Dahlia's demeanor was definitely more sure than she was the day before, this was firm. It was almost as if protecting Jayce was more important than any fear she may have had in that moment. Was this man a source of strength for her? How important was he?

Maybe he had misjudged Jayce, and badly.

Cowed, Sen responded, "I'll admit… That was not the impression I got at all. He's pretty toothless then, isn't he?"

Dahlia turned away to hide a smile. The word for "toothless" in drowlish also translated to "adorable" or "harmless", depending on the context, and she liked the connotation. "Completely. In fact, I treat his wounds more than any of the others," she added flatly, to further hide her amusement. "He's quite reckless in battle, although Zoe comes close in comparison."

That brought back memories for Sen. He could almost hear his brother and friend call him the same. "Yeah… It's easy to do when you're out adventuring. By the way, this has been bothering me. Why are all of your friends calling your soulsickness a curse? I mean, it is one, but it can't be cured like one."

Dahlia listened briefly and began to walk so they could catch up to the others. "Jayce made that up. I was afraid I would be shunned for being ill, as I had before, so he fabricated a story about a curse. A heart wrenching story of a man, who I once healed, placing a desire for death upon me for some unknown grievance against him. It gained me pity and patience, and…I honestly fear what the truth would do to them, and to my friendship with them."

"I can believe that," Sen confirmed quietly, adding a mumbled grievance that he really misjudged her friend. "You know, my therapist called it the Survivor's Curse once. It was true for my case. If that helps at all."

Dahlia offered a tired, but kind smile. As a traveling adventurer, barely in one place for a month at most, the idea of professional medical help was not one she could entertain. "I…don't know if that does, but I will think on it. Truly, these moments have been a blessing, and I thank you for them."

"Same," Sen responded with a friendly smile. "It's been amazing to hear a conversation in Drowlish again. And you've saved my life twice now in less than a minute, so seriously, if you need anything, ask me. Please."

"Just…" She needed nothing else but time, and there was only one way to achieve that. Dahlia felt terrible, but it was a ruse she had to continue. "Refuse the request for residuum, and please keep my secret. That's…all I need," she said softly, her gaze falling to the unseen path at her feet.

"Easy enough," Sen said with a shrug. "For now, let's get these two to the guard, and the rest of you to bed. Lord knows I could use the sleep…" As if to drive home his point, Sen rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the comment.

"As could I," Dahlia sighed.

A cry of relief from Jonathan was their warning that the city walls had come into view, and everyone quickened their pace to return to the safety beyond it. The night had been long, the fight had been hard, and rest was forefront on their minds as their goal loomed ahead of them.

However, a final obstacle stepped from the small gate as they approached. A tall half-elven woman, her ice-white dragon-scale armor emblazoned with the Dawn of Pelor, led five Pale Guard and another Grey Hunter into the clearing as they breached the edge of the woods. Before she or anyone else could speak, Sen frisbee'd his hat into the trees, dashed to the front of the group, and bowed low in reverence to the woman.

"My lady Vex'ahlia," Sen stated to the woman in greeting.

The Lady Vex'ahlia, Mistress of the Grey Hunt, Divine Champion of the Dawnfather, immediately loosened her posture in relief as she realized who had spoken. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused when she realized the condition of her dear acquaintance.

"Darling, you're hurt!" she said, her voice full of a mothering tone that had become the norm since the raising of her children. Indeed, her instinct to comfort him was strong, but then she happened to notice the rest of the team exiting the Parchwood, and exactly who was in their company.

Her eyes hardened to a murderous glare as she locked her gaze on the Grey Hunter between Zoe and Jayce. "I see reinforcements were unnecessary," she hissed.

"My lady, we have apprehended these two, one of them being a Grey Hunter, and the other being the dwarf who pulled the robbery," Sen explained. "The rest have been dealt with. We recovered all but one of the crystals, and I believe it was used." He presented the bloodied bag and the Hunter's rifle for her to take, which was collected by the Grey Hunter at her side. "I can also confirm this hunter was the same one who was outside your manor just yesterday evening when I called on Lord Percival, so that must have been when they learned of the shipment."

"Of course they managed to jump on an unscheduled shipment," Lady Vex'ahlia growled under her breath. She turned to all assembled and addressed them with an authoritarian voice that demanded their attention; "I will take the Grey Hunter myself. As for the dwarf, throw in him the dungeons at the de Rolo estate, and we will deal with him in time."

Her power of presence was beyond anything the others had dealt with before that time. Jayce, his eyes blinking constantly as he tried to determine if the Mistress of the Grey Hunt really was glowing, or if that was simply a trick of her incredible presence, felt as if merely hinting at disobeying the woman would spell his doom. He glanced over at the others, and was not surprised to see even Gauth seemed to feel the same.

What did surprise him was to see Dahlia step forward, her head bowed in reverence and her hands clasped in front of her heart. "M-my Lady?" she asked, her hesitation caused by a mixture of fear and awe that Jayce could fully understand.

With a sigh of impatience, Lady Vex'ahlia turned to Dahlia and braced herself for what was surely going to be an inane question at three in the morning. "Yes, miss…?"

Dahlia missed the inflection intended to introduce herself, and instead dove forward with her question. She did her best to face the woman ahead of her, her only direction being a snippet of sound and a strangely familiar warmth that washed across her soul. "Are…Are you the champion of Pelor?"

Lady Vex'ahlia glanced down at her breastplate in confusion, and then looked back at Dahlia. She looked again at her breastplate, and in utter disbelief, turned to the Pale Guard next to her and wordlessly motioned to the small elf with a clear question to learn if the interloper was serious. The Pale Guard, unable to discern Dahlia's particular plight, just shrugged.

Sen realized where the confusion was and stepped up to Lady Vex'ahlia to whisper something in her ear, shielding it with his hand.

Suddenly flustered and with an awkward clear of her throat, Lady Vex'ahlia pointedly ignored the quiet giggles around her. "I am, miss," she said quickly. "Do you need something?"

Dahlia gulped down her nervousness and steeled herself to continue. "My lady, I…have no sight, but the last thing I ever saw was the rising sun, brilliant and beautiful." Dahlia's eyes began to tear up from the powerful memory, but she winced and powered through, although not without a quiver in her voice. "According to the legends, you have…actually seen the Dawnfather. You've seen his face. Please, for someone who has no sight, could you describe the God of the Dawn?"

Dahlia's plea was heartfelt and genuine, so much so that her companions were surprised she had not fallen to her knees to beg. Even so, Lady Vex'ahlia had fielded such questions far more often than more patient folk would tolerate and gave a world weary sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You can't see his face, darling. His whole head glows like the sun itself," she huffed. "There's nothing to describe."

"Oh," Dahlia whispered. Her disappointment was palpable, but it was also clear she had no intention to push the issue. Her companions felt sympathy, but even as they glanced among themselves, they were unsure how to comfort her.

Sen looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to his matron and asking, "My lady, would you agree that his form is as brilliant as the risen sun?"

Lady Vex'ahlia rolled her eyes but relented. "Yes. I would agree with that."

With a smile, Sen turned to Dahlia and said, "Then I guess you have already seen it, Miss. Dahlia."

There was a palpable relief among the Ceylon Seven as Dahlia smiled and nodded to him, and Jayce flashed Sen a thumbs-up in thanks.

Turning back to Lady Vex'ahlia, Sen asked, "My lady, is there anything else you need at this time? If not, we can take the dwarf to the cells for you." With a sudden realization and a snap of his fingers, Sen added, "I almost forgot. These were the items of note on the hunter when we apprehended her." Sen produced a small rounded black stone and a pistol from his bag and held them out to her.

Lady Vex'ahlia nodded and took the items, clearly noting the pistol was not standard gear for her elite forces, and the mysterious black stone likely had some magical property. She handed them to the Grey Hunter who already had the residuum and nodded to Sen. "Thank you, Sendori. As usual, you exceed my already high expectations," she said with a smile.

Sen's cheeks blushed lightly as he said, "You honor me, my lady." with a smile and a thankful nod of the head

With a smile that included the incredible knowledge of the power behind her name and position, Lady Vex'ahlia patted Sen's shoulder with affection. "Not just anyone can get close to my son," she said kindly, even though it was clearly implied few were even allowed to try. She turned to the Ceylon Seven and nodded toward them. "Now, tell me about the companions you hired. How do you know them, and how did they fare against the threat?"

Jonathan nearly jumped at the opportunity to speak, but thankfully Zoe was also well versed in both etiquette involving nobility and her own brother's opportunistic nature. She elbowed him hard in the side before he could speak out of turn, and successfully winded him.

Both snapped to attention when nearly everyone glanced in their direction, but it was quickly forgotten for Sen's assessment.

"I met some of them earlier yesterday," Sen began."Professor Durtlen requested some residuum as he had run out, and they delivered the message for him. Later, I was able to speak to their cleric here, Miss Dahlia, one on one to learn why they required it. Once I called on them for this task, they performed greatly. They asked intelligent questions, responded quickly, and worked well as a team. They respected my direction when given and have a good hand on their own limitations."

Lady Vex'ahlia crossed her arms and nodded slowly, sizing them all up with a critical eye. "High praise. Since it is, well, technically early, head back to your beds and stop by the Castle de Rolo at a more decent hour. By then, we should have concluded our own investigation, and we will adequately compensate you for the work provided."

Now with the implied permission to move, several members of the Pale Guard stepped forward to take the prisoners from the adventurers. Gauth easily dropped the dwarf into the guards' waiting arms, only for the guards to recoil and nearly drop the man as soon as they saw the mutilation upon his throat and face.

Jayce rubbed his own throat as an empathetic discomfort washed over him. Clearly, magic had been used to save the dwarf's life, but just as obviously, it wasn't enough to fully restore him. Dahlia's multiple warnings about the limitations of magical healing all came back to him at that moment, and he briefly wondered if even her blindness was beyond magic.

Soon, the clearing outside the small eastern gate had been vacated by the more official members of Whitestone, the prisoners marched to the Castle de Rolo for processing. With the clearing free of the official members of the Whitestone elite, Sen turned to the Ceylon Seven and asked, "Well, shall we find a place to sleep for a few hours?"

"Absolutely," Jayce said through a suppressed yawn. "I'm fuckin' tired."

"And probably up for another dose of 'happy juice'," Zoe giggled as she playfully punched Jayce's arm.

Jayce elbowed her back amid giggles from the others. Zoe had been quite free with her description of Jayce's behavior on laudanum, and Jonathan in particular was hoping for an encore.

"Anyway, considering we're probably not welcome at the old place…you got room for seven adventurers and a cat?" Zoe asked Sen, a teasing grin on her face.

"Seven?" Sen looked at the group, clearly working through the mental math of if he could fit them all in his home. "It would be… snug if we tried that. I certainly don't have enough beds for all of you."

Incredibly snug, especially with Gauth, which was clearly on Sen's mind as he looked over the goliath in particular.

"Might be better'n payin' for a second room, if ya don't mind the company," Jayce said awkwardly. He wasn't enjoying the idea of knocking on doors until a grumpy innkeeper happened to wake up and open the door for them.

"True…" Sen brought a hand to his chin as he considered the pros and cons of inviting these strangers into his home. On the one hand, he didn't even know that half of them existed until an hour ago, and one was a rogue. That was always a risk. On the other hand, he had fought by their side, and he was convinced they would at least keep each other in check if all the elbow jabbing was anything to go by. And there was Johnathan, who would do anything in his power to make sure they were gracious guests as it would only benefit his obvious grabs for favor. But could Jonathan keep all of it under control? Did he even have enough room, linens, food? Would it work?

Although, they were adventurers. If nothing else, they would have supplies of their own, and he could always head to the market early in the morning.

"I guess… I can make it work. If you all are willing to work with me." Sen admitted.

"That'd be a huge relief," Jayce said with a smile, his shoulders finally relaxing since they had first seen the Champion of Pelor. He cleared his throat and quickly added, "If ya ain't got room, it ain't a problem; We ain't about to put ya out just for a place to pass out for a few hours. We can find a place if we really need one."

It was only polite to allow their host a way out, after all. Jayce wasn't the type of person to force another to give up their home just for his own convenience, and he wanted to head off any ill-will before it could fester again, since he still felt awful about judging Sen so harshly when they first met.

"Guys, you do realize I was joking, right?" Zoe cut in. "I mean, this is Whitestone! The property taxes alone have to be insane, so there's no way a researcher's assistant- You are one, right?" And she did not wait for Sen to answer before she continued. "There's no way a researcher's assistant would have the salary for a house big enough for seven people, one of which is eight goddamn feet tall."

Gauth had to pause for a moment to remember how to translate his own measurements into the more common Imperial system, and utterly failed to remember exactly how tall he was in feet.

Al rolled his eyes. "He's not that tall."

"But he is big," Jayce said as he preemptively got between them. He turned to Sen. "That said, Sen, call is yours. It's your home."

Sen nodded. "Honestly, if we moved some furniture around and you don't mind sleeping on a stone floor, there would be room for you by the hearth," Sen said to Gauth. "I think I can make it work, and yes, Zoe. I am a researcher's assistant, but my salary does pay enough. I don't have beds, but I have floor space."

"And we have bedrolls," Bera chimed in cheerfully. "We can also cuddle up a bit. I know I'd fit in just about anywhere," she added with a flirtatious wink.

It was a bit difficult to catch who the wink was for, however, as both Sen, Gauth, and confusingly, Jonathan were all standing in her general line of sight. Gauth rolled his eyes and sighed as he leaned on a nearby tree.

Sen smirked but continued anyway. "Good to know. With that decided, let's get going, shall we? I'm ready to be out of these woods." With the mention of that word, Sen suddenly looked as if he had just remembered something important. "Shu!" he swore through his teeth, "I forgot to mention the Briarwoods! Who has the map?"

"Oh! That's me!" Zoe beamed, almost jumping like a giddy school child as she yanked the map out of her wine-stained robes. "I'm kinda the resident map expert," she said with a proud smirk.

Al snickered and whispered to Jonathan, "Better'n Jayce. He managed to end up in Kymal while following the Silvercut Roadway."

Jonathan nearly choked on his own mirth. "That doesn't even go to Kymal!" he snickered.

Jayce shot them both a glare that would have stabbed them if it could, and while they did stop speaking, they did not stop giggling. Jayce sighed with world-weary annoyance and Dahlia patted his arm in sympathy.

"May I?" Sen asked, reaching out towards Zoe for the map. "I should give it to Lady Vex'halia."

"Oh, sure," Zoe said with a nod. She snapped open the map and studied its markings, her eyes darting across the page as she committed as much of the map to memory as possible. On the one hand, there was no guarantee they'd ever need to travel the area represented on the map, but on the other, it was better to be prepared.

With a big, proud smile on her face, Zoe held out the unfolded map to Sen. She had no need for it anymore.

For a brief moment a look of suspicion flashed across Sen's face, but he buried it with a thankful smile. "I'll meet back up with you in town. Head to the Academic District. I'm closest to the corner of Trudeu and Sunset. I'll see you soon!" With a wave and a turn, Sen ran off into the darkness. "And grab my hat!"

"I got it!" Bera giggled as she ducked into the bushes. "There has to be some sort of enchantment on it. You all saw what he did in the cavern, right?"

"Everybody but Dahlia," Al grumbled. "Obviously."

Bera flinched as she emerged from the bushes with the hat on her head. It fit well, but looked especially ridiculous in contrast to her especially small frame. "Uh, sorry about that, Dahlia," she said meekly.

Dahlia shrugged. "It's fine. So what did he do with the hat?"

"Summoned it out of thin air!" Zoe beamed. "Mumbled a command or something and it just bamfed onto his head. Can you imagine if you had arrows or something like that? You could fire the same arrow into a guy like, five times before you'd need to replace it," she laughed.

"That's only assuming you have a standard arrow that is prone to breaking upon impact, and that doesn't even guarantee the five shots," Jonathan added, a contemplative look on his face as he rubbed his chin. "Although it would be particularly useful for, as is the case here, a hat, or perhaps a thrown weapon. Gauth, after all, lost his axe temporarily during the fight, which left him at a disadvantage."

"Not much of one," Gauth grinned and audibly cracked his knuckles.

Jonathan did his best to suppress a shudder and shrugged. "Even so, a magical way to reliably call back your weapon would be useful, should such an occurrence happen again."

Gauth grumbled in frustration, but thankfully Dahlia translated some of the larger words, which helped his understanding of the situation. "Oh. Yes, a boomerang axe would be very good."

"Dear fuckin' god that would be terrifyin'," Jayce wheezed.

Bera giggled at the image of a bent axe whiffling through the air, but the subtle shudder in her voice made it clear she felt the same way.

"Anyway, Zoe, you happen to remember where Trudy and Sunset are?" Al asked.

"Trudeu and Sunset, Al," Zoe snickered. "But…yeah, I know where Sunset is. We can look around there for the crossroad and hopefully find the house."

"Good. I'm ready for some fuckin' sleep," Jayce grumbled through a yawn. "Been a fuckin' long night."

With multiple agreements from nearly everybody in the group, they finally entered the city of Whitestone and began their long trek to Sen's home.

xXxXx

Despite the exceptionally early hour, Bera pulled out her harp and began strumming a gentle, almost lullaby-styled tune along their walk. While the song was listing and aimless, it was generally calming, a melody that prevented loud minds from being noticed by their masters. Thankfully, Zoe's memory of the city streets was sound, and they managed to turn the right way along the early morning road to find Trudeu Avenue.

Unfortunately, the entirety of the residential road was nearly identical houses, all made of brick and plastered stone with cedar paneled roofing, and each one shared their walls with their immediate neighbors. However, despite the uniformity, each made do with the little space they had, as each had a small, fenced-in yard just in front of the door that led to the street. Some were immaculately cared for, sporting gardens ranging from medicinal to simply ornamental, while others were clearly neglected in favor of more functional use. In yet others were small clues as to the occupants, such as a leather ball or scattered toys in one yard, or a sitting set of two chairs and an umbrella-sporting table in another. In yet another, the iron gate that interrupted the brick fence was wrapped in hundreds of ribbons, woven between the bars to create a rough tapestry that announced its resident had a clear flair for the dramatic.

In an effort to save time and materials, the de Rolo family had hastily built rows of copied houses for the refugees of Westruun, which had once fallen to the Chroma Conclave. A once sterile canvas, those who found such streets to be their home found their own ways to express themselves, both naturally and by prompt, which brought breath and life to an otherwise inorganic group of buildings. It was in this way that the street was truly a neighborhood, not just a means to pass through the city.

Lanterns lit by a strange, flickering energy stood on tall poles as they walked down the road, helpless in their search; their only clue to their destination was Sen himself, as he had left them little instruction as to which house was his.

"There's gotta be some way to tell," Jayce mumbled. The adrenaline from the combat had long since faded, and Bera's soft song had done him no favors to stay awake. "He give a number or somethin'?"

Jonathan rubbed sleep out of his eyes and stretched. "No. Although I have to say, the numbers on the fences is a smart idea. Westruun could use that."

"Yeah, stupid trying to find houses based on 'the one with the green window on the left'," Zoe grumbled under her breath.

Al glanced back behind him at the street sign at the corner. "Well, he said it was close to Trudeu and Sunset, and that's where we are…but that's still roughly sixteen houses to check."

"Anybody feel like knocking on doors at three in the morning?" Al asked the group.

Gauth, fed up and tired, immediately marched toward the closest house to his left, a residence with overburdened blackberry bushes that nearly engulfed the small walkway toward the wooden door. Like all the others, the upper floor extended a mere foot over the lower floor, which provided some minor shade to whoever passed through the threshold, but also managed to create amore acute inconvenience to Gauth, who had to duck past thriving baskets of wild weeds just to reach it.

Thankfully, the plethora of squeaked, whispered, and strained warnings from his team to call him back bade him pause just before he knocked, and he gestured silently to them that they clearly weren't making progress until one of them did something. While they had to concede his point, Dahlia called him back with an offer of a more comprehensive process for determining the correct house.

Upon request, Jayce quickly described the street to Dahlia, who nodded and seemed to have come to a conclusion by the time Gauth returned to their company. "So it seems…" she said quietly, while tapping her chin. "Based on what he had said to me before, I believe he lives alone. In that way, we can eliminate any house that has toys in the front yard, as that implies children, and possibly a spouse. If any of the houses have gardening tools, we can rule that out too; Sen is clearly a busy man, and if his garden is cared for, I would assume it's by someone else."

Zoe and Al quickly jogged to the various corners and glanced about while the others did the same in their more immediate area. Based on that assessment, they managed to knock down the number of possible houses to just seven.

"Okay, less than half, that's a good place to start," Jayce said with a smile. "Dahlia, you got anythin' else from talkin' to him?"

Dahlia nodded. "He's proud of his heritage, so he probably has no problem showing off anything that may call him out to be a drow. That being said, he also mentioned having some issues with locals who didn't accept him, so if there is a house that displays anything from his hometown and is defaced, or if there is general wear and tear that denotes possible vandalized surfaces, that would likely be his home."

"That is way too much thinking for this early in the morning," Bera whined.

As if on cue, a streak of light flashed along the street, ethereal wings spread wide as it wove between them as easily as water through creekside reeds. Gasps and suppressed shrieks of shock did nothing to slow it down as it pulled up, flapped twice to slow, and perched gently on one of the brick fences just long enough for them all to see what it was.

A golden heron, woven from light that weaved and folded like the smoke of incense, glanced at them all briefly before it turned to watch the street instead. Upon fixating on its chosen direction, it stood stock still, as motionless as a statue as it illuminated the brief space which it occupied.

"What just happened?" Dahlia wheezed. A small panic attack had left her breathless, but when no one yanked her away, she assumed it was safe to speak.

"Some…glowing bird just rushed right between us," Al explained, mystified. "Damn… It's actually kind of pretty. Jon, any idea what it is?"

"Beyond magical?" Jonathan shrugged. "No idea. It may be some sort of summoned familiar, or a manifestation of a tracking spell."

"Any chance it's leadin' to the house we want?" Jayce asked with a weak chuckle.

Everyone, save Dahlia, turned to him with a look that was clearly devoid of patience. Jayce sighed and silently admitted defeat.

Thankfully, at that time and out of breath, Sen turned the corner and called out to the group in a quiet but excited tone. "Hail! Thanks for waiting! They were further in town than I thought."

"Oh thank god!" Jon huffed. "We were about to make your neighbors very angry with you."

With a nervous laugh, Sen admitted, "Sorry about that, but the homes here can look really similar at night, so I figured having you wait at the corner would be best. Either way, it looks like you've found it." Sen motioned to the ethereal bird as he walked over to it, extending his hand towards its beak.

The golden heron almost seemed to smile at Sen's approach, and it bent down to touch its beak to his palm. In a soft flash of light, a letter, a note, and a small box were suddenly in Sen's palm.

"Huh," Jayce said, clearly with a smirk in his voice. "Seems my luck's holdin' after all."

"Don't you fucking start," Al hissed.

Sen looked at the contents, smiled warmly to himself, and then tucked them into his bag for the moment. "Alright everyone, welcome to my home. Gauth, please watch your head. The inside is thankfully a little taller, but not by much." Walking to the door with a metal crest of a silver crescent moon set on a painted blue background, Sen produced a key from his breast pocket and unlocked the door, holding it open for them.

Triggered by some sort of magic, a fireplace in the front room breathed to life, bathing the doorway in a warm, welcoming glow as everyone stepped into Sen's home. The front room itself doubled as a living space, complete with a sitting couch, more bookshelves than would normally be expected, and a coffee table that had recently disorganized piles of papers and sketches. While the language of the notes were unfamiliar to the adventurers as they entered, the sketches were an entirely different beast; haphazardly mixed together were both roughshod drawings of mechanical parts, absentmindedly tossed to partly cover neat piles of previous notes, and beautiful pencil studies of Whitestone city streets, which showed incredible attention to detail, and the presence of a surprisingly consistent white rabbit with black ears and eye spot who seemed to appear in the most random of places among the art.

In fact, the rabbit, in a more doodled form, appeared quite frequently on the mechanical sketches, so much so that Al was not surprised at all to see a small one, carved from what seemed to be balsa wood, among a plethora of similarly carved mechanical vehicles. The shelves, while also a home for a smattering of books, seemed mostly for the display of several dozen hand-carved machines, each of great quality, that were clearly accurate scale models of their original reference. Airships, a hot air balloon, and even a few birds with visible gears and movable joints graced the many shelves that flanked the walls.

Al, as he made sure he was the first one in, ducked past those shelves of various heights to glance into the other rooms. Sen was clearly distracted as he introduced the others to his home, and Al's own habit of scouting the perimeter was far stronger than his knowledge of good manners. A doorway in the far right corner of the living space, to the right of the fireplace, led to a small dining room and kitchen combination room, although it was clearly more used for study due to the more comfortable table height. The table was covered in wood shavings, diagrams, tools for measurement and carving, a small pot of clearly labeled glue, and a mysterious contraption that looked almost like someone had hacked the legs off a horse and bound it badly in twine. Slightly disturbed, Al ducked his head into the kitchen to peek for other doors, and while there was one, a cleared throat behind him called his attention back to the first room with the others.

Bera, unlike Al, had a stronger sense of manners befitting a guest, and non-verbally reminded him to sit down and wait to be given the official tour before running off. Al, grumbling, thankfully took the hint, but instead leaned against a wall next to the kitchen door, rather than fully concede the victory to the halfling bard.

Jayce, also a more practiced gentleman than Al, made sure Dahlia was seated and comfortable before he did his own scan of the room. The various airships quickly caught his eye, and while he was giddy over the idea of discussing the finer points of vehicles that literally sailed in the air, his gaze was immediately caught by three others, painted in oil and dark pastel above the mantelpiece. A portrait looked down on them kindly, a blue tiefling in fine noble garb next to a familiar drow in a fancy coat, each with their hand on the shoulder of a seated woman. She was a midnight beauty, a black-skinned tiefling with silver hair and deeply purple, nearly impossibly dark eyes that glittered with her beautiful smile. Tastefully dressed in an artistically flowing dark blue silk dress, she held a lovely cherry wood guitar, her fingers poised as if in the middle of a chord to some jubilant song, and upon her chest rested a pendant that sported the same symbol of a silver moon upon a blue background of dyed mother-of-pearl.

Jayce tapped Sen on the arm, out of newly formed habit, and nodded toward the portrait. "Lovely portrait, Sen. The man on the right's you, I take it? That yer family?"

Sen smiled with pride. "That they are. That one is Crowley, my late husband, and sitting between us is our pride and joy, Willow Statha, the Umbra Troubadour."

Both twitched briefly as Gauth sat on the couch and it groaned from the strain, but as the sound was quickly confirmed to be nothing needing their attention, Jayce turned back to the portrait. "You mind if I ask about 'em? Y'all look really sweet in the painting."

Sen paused, looking at the portrait of his beloved family, before he turned to Jayce and said, "Maybe in the morning. It's late as it is, and I could go on for hours about the two of them. Let's get you all settled first."

Jayce nodded and looked around at the others. The room was a bit cramped, but with Jonathan and Zoe comfortably seated in front of the fire and amicably talking about their prospects with the de Rolos, Al clearly skulking in a corner, and Bera not-so-subtly scooching in between Gauth and Dahlia on the couch, there seemed to be enough space to catch a few hours of sleep.

"Seems we can make it work here, if ya don't wanna share too much space," Jayce said kindly. "We all got bedrolls n' blankets, so don't put yerself out for sheets or the like. Mere fact we got a fire n' a roof's more'n we've had for a few weeks now."

Sen nodded as he gathered the loose paper on the table. "All I have left to offer at this point is the guest room upstairs if anyone here needs the privacy. Beyond that, that door there is the kitchen and the pantry is just past it if it's needed. The washroom is that door there." Sen pointed out the doors as he mentioned them. "Is there anything else you can think of that you might need?"

"Just sleep," Jayce chuckled. "Although, Dahlia, ya want a private room?"

Dahlia sat up straight as soon as she heard her name. "Oh! No thank you. I really shouldn't. I can sleep here on the couch easily enough."

"It's been offered, ya know," Jayce added.

"I know, but it wouldn't be fair," Dahlia said with a sigh. "We aren't paying for the room, so I shouldn't get preferential treatment. Honestly, any of you have a better argument than me for the spare room."

"Dahlia, you are ridiculously sweet," Bera smiled. "Any chance I could get the room?"

"What about me?" Zoe piped up. "I literally went leaping down black holes for you guys!"

"If anyone gets the room, it should be me," Al huffed. "That mage would've blasted you all to hell and back if it wasn't for me."

"Excuse me, I believe I was the one who actually took her out," Jonathan said, his arms crossed and his tone annoyed. "If that's how we're dividing rooms, then I should-"

"Enough!" Dahlia shouted. Everyone paused for a moment from the shock as she took a deep breath and calmed herself before she continued. "If anyone should have the room, it should be Gauth. He lost his weapon, carried both myself and Bera up a nearly vertical cliff, and placed his literal body between ourselves and harm throughout that battle. If you believe your merit gains you the room, Gauth has clearly emerged the victor."

There were some awkward coughs around the room as the others digested the comment, although Gauth simply crossed his arms and beamed with cocky pride. As Al began to grumble that his involvement was still the better contribution, Dahlia sighed again and nearly rolled her head back in frustration.

"Besides," she said to cut the silence and put any further grumbling to rest, "as he is the largest of us, having him removed from the room offers us the greatest amount of restored space, allowing all of us to stretch out more comfortably."

Faced with infallible logic, even the most reluctant had to concede the point, and Gauth gleefully stood to follow Sen to the spare room to settle in for the night.

With a nod, Sen headed to the stairs in the back to lead Gauth up to the room. Before he stepped up on the first stair, he turned and said, "I do want to say, Miss Peach, that your choice in headwear is truly of good taste. As your host for the evening, may I take your hat?" he asked with a wink.

Bera grabbed the hem of the hat and pulled it down around her ears, twisting it almost like a lopsided bonnet. "But it's mine now! You'll have to trade me for it," she whined in a playful tone.

Sen laughed to himself. "Remember, I promised never to lose it again." With the phrase said, the hat popped out of existence from Bera's head and popped back in the same second on Sen's. "However, if you want to climb this obsidian tower to claim it, we can talk about that later. Goodnight!"

And with that, Sen turned on his heel and led Gauth up the stairs to the guest room and to his own as Bera burst out laughing.

"Asshole left before I could get in the last word! Jerk!" Bera squealed, holding her stomach from laughing. "Ooh, he finally got me back. That was a good one."

"I…am confused," Dahlia whined, the only voice in the room not tinged with giggles. "What's going on?"

"Oh you sweet summer child," Bera cooed, fighting to keep her breathing even as more laughter threatened to break through. "We were joking about some good-natured sheet wrestling."

"Some…sheet…?" Dahlia's face twisted in multiple amusing ways as she failed to parse out the meaning. Thankfully, Jayce, heavily entertained, was able to come to her rescue.

"She means fuckin', Dahlia," Jayce snickered.

Dahlia immediately turned an absolutely lovely shade of deep red while the room burst out in laughter, and when she attempted to justify the logic by pointing out she had only just remembered that Sen was black and Bera was tiny, that renewed their mirth all the more.

Good sleep was eventually had, much later, when the giggles finally lost their steam.

xXxXx

Morning finally came far too soon with the gentle notes of autumn, but Sen's home was well guarded against the elements. Their only clue of morning was the light that drifted through the shaded windows that flanked the door, but it was not enough to rouse the adventurers who were scattered about Sen's living room. The exceptions were Dahlia and Sen, as their race afforded them a much smaller requirement for sleep, and as such Sen was not surprised to find her in his kitchen, gently exploring the mechanical mock-ups strewn across the table.

Sitting down at the table across from where Dalhia had placed herself, he quietly asked, "Curious on what this is?"

Dahlia smiled, as she had heard his footsteps descending the stairs just moments before. "More than a little, I will admit. I should have asked, though; is it alright if I touch this? It feels fragile, so I am taking utmost care, but my curiosity has gotten the best of me."

"It's alright," Sen assured her. "I used the soft wood for a reason. I'm trying to figure out the best way to fit pieces of a puzzle together, and as the machine is just a concept, I have no guide. So when I press the pieces together in a way that works, I can note the new dents in the designs so they match up in the final build."

Dahlia nodded in awe. "That's actually very clever. I also feel twine and…I think this is a tallow-based glue? Or is it a more chemical base? It has no smell I can determine, beyond something vaguely acrid in that direction, but I wasn't sure if it was related."

Dahlia waved her hand toward the gluepot, which was indeed the source of her question.

"It's just a slow drying glue, so I can move things if it doesn't work out. I had an alchemist make the formula for me, and I'll admit I'm more into the mechanical than the chemical. As for the twine, it will eventually represent piping and connectors for the parts. I can't just shove them all together after all; I need to make sure there's room for what connects them as well."

"That's quite clever," Dahlia said with a nod. She gently returned the mock-up model to the table and took a moment to determine her next question. "I will say, as much as I wish to know more about your project, I overheard Bera say something that has chilled my blood. She explained to Al that the Briarwoods were once mortal enemies of the de Rolos, and your own reaction made it clear that a festering wound is all that remains of them. Unfortunately, I'm completely naive to that chapter of Whitestone's history. It seems more pressing that I ask you about them, instead of your work."

Sen's gaze drifted to the table before him as he contemplated his response. "The Briarwoods… The libraries here in Whitestone will be the best source you can easily access about them, but to give you something… They were a couple, hopelessly devoted to each other and their god, a creature of undeath and suffering. They came to Whitestone as guests, were welcomed as such, and then they slaughtered their hosts. Only two of the seven de Rolo children were left alive, first as prisoners, and when a chance was had, Percival escaped and lived as a pauper. This city suffered under their rule, with even the great Sun Tree in the center of town withering in the following five years it took Percival to gather strength and comrades to storm the gates with him. He faced the undead, vampires, and a necromancer to take back this city, and when he did? He made this city a glowing example of civilization with his sister, Cassandra. To know that they threaten them again…" Sen paused, looking out the window into the daylight that was just starting to get strong enough to hurt his eyes. He turned back to Dahlia and said, "I can't let that happen. He took a chance on granting me my position, and when questioned he fought for me to give me the time to prove it. They're good people."

Dahlia's gaze also fell, aimless in its path. "I can't even imagine the pain they must have endured. To have emerged as kind, caring people is a testament to the strength of their spirit, and I admire your courage to stand by them. As you recommend, we will find the rest of our answers at the library."

"It would be the best source of them. If nothing else, I'm a flawed and jaded narrator when it comes to this topic. But I can be a more reliable storyteller in other things. I know you don't like talking about yourself, so what would you like to know about me?" Sen asked with a friendly smile.

"Well, I hope it's a brighter topic, but I would like to know what that magical bird was, last night," Dahlia said softly. She caught the sound of movement in the other room and wondered if her companions would be joining her momentarily, or in a few hours. They did deserve their sleep, after all, so she was willing to wait for them to naturally wake.

Sen brightened immediately at the mention of the bird. "That's right! I have letters. That bird was a manifestation of Jymall's Flight, a message spell that will carry letters and packages up to a certain weight. The color and shape of the bird differs between castors, and that particular one was from Willow. My little wisp always had a taste for the dramatics." With a large grin, he pulled out a letter, a small folded note, and the package the spell had delivered. "Honestly, with how useful it is, I would suggest getting the spell. Then again, I have no idea if it would be useful for your group."

Not waiting for Dahlia's response, Sen checked the note first, as it was marked that he was supposed to read that one before the letter. After a short moment, Sen chuckled to himself.

"Being able to deliver physical letters would be incredibly useful, although I'm not sure who I would send any to," Dahlia mused under her breath. Upon catching a chuckle, she tilted her head toward him curiously. "May I ask what the letter said? Or is it something written on a package?"

Sen's smile continued through to his voice, a cheery tone that Dahlia wholeheartedly welcomed. "It's just Willow reminding me that I promised 'no sweets before breakfast' when she was a child, and the package is, in fact, a sweet thing. So therefore it needs to wait. Do you mind if I take a moment to read the letter she included?"

Dahlia shook her head. "I don't mind at all. I would like to hear more about Willow when you finish, though."

"With absolute pleasure," Sen agreed as he read the letter from his daughter. A moment of silence passed between them as he read the words, and soon he folded the letter and put it away for safekeeping until he could write his reply. "It looks like with any luck, she'll be coming to visit in a month or so."

"That sounds wonderful," Dahlia smiled. "I don't know if I'll get a chance to meet her, but knowing you, she must be an amazing person."

"She is amazing," Sen agreed. "So you can get an idea, she's a black tiefling with long hair, and I think she's about your size but more of a twig. Not that she can't lay you out if you cross her. That was an amazing thing to watch! Naturally she gets that from me," he added with pride.

"Anyway, in all seriousness, she's a bard like Crowley was, and a damn good one. Her songs and poems are really good, some even well known, and I say that trying not to be biased. I'm still totally biased of course, but I am trying!"

Dahlia giggled and put a finger to her lips, but the damage was done. In Sen's excitement, his volume had risen enough that figures in the other room began to stir.

Sen flinched. "Oh, and I just made a faux-pas, didn't I?" Sen said much quieter as he looked behind him at the various bodies starting to wake in his living room. "Think I should get started on some sort of breakfast, then?"

Dahlia smiled, the giggle still hanging on her voice as she spoke. "I think that would be best. Is there some way I could help? There is a large number of us."

Sen looked around the kitchen as he thought. "How well can you cook?"

"So long as its doneness is not described by color and I'm not asked to move around too much, I'm passable," Dahlia said, a tinge of embarrassment both in her voice and on her cheeks. "Truthfully, any of my companions could likely do a much better job than me."

"That's fine," Sen assured her. "I'll gather some things, and you can help me prepare the ingredients so they cook a little faster. That work?"

Dahlia nodded that the conditions were to her satisfaction, and she went to work with enthusiasm. The first to rise was Zoe, who immediately joined them in the kitchen with Puffpaw on her shoulders. To pass the time, she jokingly bragged that her brother's familiar was clearly more fond of her than Jonathan, and the joke was well received while the smell of cooking wafted into the other room.

As the others began to rouse, the room became stuffy with the increasing number of bodies and the stove at full heat, so Zoe shifted over to open the one window and allow in some of the autumn chill. As soon as she did, a grey striped tabby cat, clearly waiting for its chance, immediately jumped up to the sill and ducked past Zoe, who only managed a yelp of surprise as the cat slipped past her.

"What the hell?!" Zoe yelled. She twisted around Dahlia and Sen as she attempted to catch the fleeing feline, and Puffpaw jumped to the table to avoid being flung in a random direction during the attempt. "Stray in the house! Coming through!"

"Dos lotha shu, naut nin!" Sen whined. He sighed with a hand to his face in frustration. "That's Mischief. He can't be caught unless he wants to be. Just leave him,"

Dahlia hid a giggle into her hand as she continued to measure out portions, as she was well aware of the translation to Sen's little outburst. Apparently, this cat had a habit of interrupting at the least opportune times.

"Nah, I can get him!" Zoe huffed, her eyes aflame with determination. "C'mere, kitty kitty kitty!"

Sen clearly looked panicked. "No, don't!"

Mischief had managed to secrete himself behind a loose shelf that contained large jars of various foodstuffs, and hissed as Zoe got close. Both beings stared at each other for a tense moment, eyes flitting briefly in seemingly random directions as they determined paths of escape, when Al, yawning, stepped into the room.

"What the hell is-"

"Mrrowrr!"

Zoe dove toward the cat, twisting to slip her arms between the jars, as Mischief launched directly at her face and rebounded perfectly into the air. Zoe yelled in pain and alarm as Mischief's back claws raked across her face, and Al found himself the unfortunate target of Mischief's trajectory.

Al's bleary eyes barely tracked the movement of the grey streak of lightning that slammed into his chest and pushed off, sailing for the table as Al lost his footing and cracked his back into the doorframe behind him. Mischief skid to a stop on the table, papers and balsa wood scrap flying as Zoe recovered and, once again, dove for the cat. Her hands nearly grasped Mischief's limbs, but all she managed to do was brush her fingers through his fur as his claws finally reached the table and, once again, he leapt an impressive height into the air.

All the way, the screaming in the previous few seconds was enough to rouse both floors of the house, with many comments demanding to know what was happening and if any bodily harm had been suffered. It was at that moment that the reason for the panic literally descended upon them.

Al watched in awe as Mischief sailed past him into the living room, right into Bera, who had been the first of those that remained to reach the doorway. With his own cry of alarm, Mischief yowled with such fervor that Bera refused to stand still and successfully ducked out of the way of the panicking feral feline, who landed with a less than graceful tumble in the living room.

"The flyin' fuck?!" Jayce's voice rang out as Mischief, now out of view, continued to panic at the sight of far more people than the cat had expected to see. Yeowling and screeching, Mischief was suddenly muffled as Bera cautiously checked into the other room.

"Jayce caught him," Bera breathed with relief. "Mother of mercy, what was that about?!"

Sen had both hands over his face, steadying his breath to calm the growing frustration in his breast. "That…was Mischief. The local stray. Please just… If you're helping cook, stay. If not, leave. Please."

"Asshole got me good," Zoe hissed through her teeth as she tapped at the bloody scratches across her face. "Ow. Damn."

"Are you hurt?" Dahlia asked, concern in her voice. She reached out for Zoe, but Zoe gently pushed her hand away.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'll clean up myself. Thanks though," she said with a cocky grin. "Besides, I probably deserved it."

"Can we clear out the kitchen, please?" Sen again asked, his voice tense with restrained frustration.

"We're going, we're going!" Zoe huffed. She led the way and Al and Bera followed to the living room, which left Dahlia and Sen in the now more disheveled kitchen.

"...Are you okay?" Dahlia asked.

Sen paused, breathing and counting in his head, before he finally said, "That fucking cat always shows up at the worst times, and he's just…" Sen sighed to himself as he started tidying up his now broken project. At least he remembered to fully close the glue jar. "He just is."

"I'm sorry. His name is clearly apt, but I'm unsure how I can help," Dahlia said softly.

"Let's just finish breakfast. We're almost done as it is, and once Mischief gets some he'll leave."

Dahlia mulled over the comment for a moment before she turned back to the cooking. "Doesn't that teach him to continue bothering you, though?" she asked.

Sen paused over the cooking ingredients in front of him. "It does, because at the end of the day when I need him, he comes. Makes living here a little less lonely on those days."

Dahlia nodded and thought it over. She may have been relatively new to the idea of a comforting pet, but it was enough to sympathize with Sen over his loneliness. She quickly became lost in her thoughts, her mind drifting through her knowledge of Sen, his scars, and his past. A lonely life indeed, one marred by the apparent mistake of being born a drow. She commiserated his all-too-familiar pain by her presence, with only a brief pause in her work to pat his arm for comfort. It was all the touch she could stand at that moment.

A warm silence enveloped them both, born of kindred spirits and the knowledge that they had an ally in a occasionally cold and cruel world. Any interruptions were brief and quiet, such as a comment from Sen about where the plates were located or a question from Dahlia if Sen had remembered Gauth should get larger portions. It was a peaceful respite, one that healed the soul instead of the body.

Eventually, Jayce wandered in from the living room, Mischief cradled in his arms as the cat fought to rub his face across Jayce's cheek and then lick the same spot with a scratchy tongue. Jayce, to his credit, found the interaction amusing, but quickly losing its appeal.

"Dahlia, sorry for interruptin' an' all that, but what the fuck'd you put on my face?!" he laughed as, once again, Mischief aggressively smooshed his own face into Jayce's chin. "This damn cat ain't quittin' and he's fuckin' licking my skin off!"

Dahlia paused for a moment as the realization struck her. With a sputtering laugh, she nearly folded from a repressed guffaw as she turned toward him.

"I'm so sorry, Jayce. My topical anesthetic has a mixture of mint plants, including catmint. It's known to…well, excite cats," she giggled. "And reduce fevers! It's actually effective and safe for minors, provided it's properly dosed!" she added, mostly in an attempt to help Jayce feel better.

"Honestly, I'm just shocked it's still on my face," Jayce snickered. He once again placed a palm on Mischief's forehead and gently pressed him back down to being held like an infant. "Gotta say, he forgave me damn quick for wrappin' him in my bedroll after he got a whiff of that ointment."

"He forgives easily. A very in-the-moment creature," Sen confirmed, now in a better mood than before. With a smirk, he asked "If you can put him down, could you help bring out plateware? I think there is enough, but one of you may need to use your own dish."

"I'll give it my damnedest, but he's one clingy fucker," Jayce laughed.

It was far easier to simply eat around the fire in the living room than clear the mess that was the table in the kitchen, so portions of food quickly made their way to willing hands seated across the couch and floor. Gauth, who had fully rested in a too-small bed, was in an infectiously bright mood as a mixing bowl full of breakfast potato hash was handed to him.

As Sen rarely entertained, and when he did it was for parties of no more than three, no one raised a fuss when nearly everyone began eating without silverware, and cheery conversations began to float about the room. The only exception was Al, who seemed distant; He constantly glanced between Bera, who had made several eventually successful attempts to sit upon Sen's lap while they ate, and the portrait above the fireplace.

Eventually, Bera's flirtatious comments included a tender touch upon Sen's ear, which ended on a gentle twirl of Sen's magical earring. Suddenly reminded, Sen turned to Jonathan, who was seated on the floor between the couch and the fire, next to his sister and Dahlia, who shared the couch.

"Jon, before I forget, may I have my earring back?" Sen asked, holding out his hand for it.

"Oh! Of course!" Jonathan quickly removed the earring and leaned over to hold it out to Sen. "It's a fascinating device, honestly. Is there a chance we could get our own set? And do you know if it transfers more than just words?"

Sen shrugged. "The ones I know of only do words, and as for getting one of your own, I do know there are enchanters in town who can make them. You can also have more than one pair linked to each other. Very useful things for a big adventuring party, if I'm being honest." Sen replaced the earring on his other ear, completing the pair and putting them within reach if he needed them again.

Jonathan nodded in understanding. "I only ask because they're based on the Telepathy spell, and I know from experience-" Jonathan motioned to Puffpaw, settled comfortably in his lap, "-that facets of telepathy, especially natural ability, can transmit pictures and emotions as well as transfer verbal phrases. If that were possible with your earrings, something similar could possibly be used to allow Dahlia to see, even if-"

A squeak of shock and a yelp of surprise from the couch startled everyone enough to pause the conversation, and everyone turned to see Zoe had successfully caught Dahlia's glass of apple cider before it had tumbled to the ground and spilled.

"Oops," Zoe said with a nervous laugh. "You okay, Dahlia?"

"I-I don't-!" she stammered, her hands clenching in the air as her face held a look of panic.

Jayce immediately went on the defensive, his posture shifted enough to leap between Dahlia and Jonathan at a moment's notice. "Jon…!" he hissed, his tone full of warning.

Jonathan was the picture of offended innocence. "What?!"

Sensing this was something that could turn sour very quickly, Sen deflected, "Theories for another day. In the meantime, I do believe I owe you all an introduction, don't I?"

Jayce, sensing his intention, immediately spoke up. "And we'd be honored t' meet yer patrons, sir. After breakfast, 'course."

Bera gently excused herself from Sen's lap and slipped into an open space next to Jonathan, even though she felt the proximity to the fire was far too close to be comfortable. "Jonathan," she whispered, "you should know better than to put Dahlia on the spot like that!"

"How the hell is that putting her on the spot? I'm trying to help!" Jonathan whispered tersely back.

"Don't you remember the Sword of Vines?" Bera snapped back, her voice still low and quiet. "Her blindness is part of who she is, and you're talking about changing her without any thought about how she feels about it! Stop trying to fix her!"

"She's blind. Why wouldn't she want to see?" Jonathan growled, his shoulders tense as he glared at Bera. "It's for her benefit!"

"Of course!" Sen said loudly, as if to interrupt Johnathan's comments. "Usually, the de Rolos don't see company or begin work until around eight in the morning, so we have time. However, at that time, I will escort you to the de Rolo castle where we can debrief and answer or ask any questions we have left. On that note, are there any questions you'd all like to ask me?"

Jonathan immediately leapt to the fore of the conversation. "Is there any dress code or expectation when we meet with the de Rolos?" he asked, his curiosity clearly betrayed by the excitement in his voice. "And which members specifically will we be talking to? Oh! And expectations of etiquette: which titles should we use, and so on?"

Al sighed and drew heavy hands down his face. One of the few things he didn't miss from his home was the insane number of rules when speaking to literally anyone of any station above a commoner.

Sen chuckled to himself at Jon's enthusiasm. "Bit of an old hat at this, huh? Well, we will likely be talking to Lady Cassandra, the ruler of Whitestone; Lord Percival, her brother and confidant; and if she has time, Lady Vex'halia, who is in charge of the treasury. Lady Cassandra won't suffer any slights, but Percival and Vex'halia were adventurers for a time and have more of a humor. Dress nice, be clean, and be polite. A bow won't go amiss, and the use of 'my lord' or 'my lady' will be expected."

Jonathan and Zoe shared a curious glance as a particular omission in Sen's explanation had been noticed. Bera, an eyebrow cocked in a similar curiosity, smiled at Sen.

"Interesting how you dropped the honorifics there, sir," she said. "You particularly close with the laudies?"

Sen blushed as he realized he had forgotten his manners in his complacency. "I may have been invited to dinner a few times," he defended. "But I'm just a friend to their son, Lord Vax'ildan. Not much more."

"Who is named after his late uncle, by the way," Zoe chimed in helpfully.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "You and random bits of useless history."

"It's not useless," Zoe snapped back.

"Facts are never useless, just fun," Sen added.

Zoe snapped her finger and pointed at Sen with a grin. "Exactly!"

Dahlia, silently, added her approval to the comment with a nod, but she was unable to add to the conversation and so kept silent.

Jayce, who had finished his food, stood up and narrowly avoided Mischief losing his balance and scratching Jayce's entire back on the way down. Once the delicate balancing act was successfully concluded, Jayce, with Mischief wrapped around his neck, smiled at the group.

"Now that we're nearly done, an' based solely on Sir Sendori's recommendation, I say we get ourselves-" Jayce emphatically pointed to Dahlia and silently winked at the others, who had reactions that ranged from curiosity to knowing glee, "-somethin' pretty. Gotta look the part, an' all."

Gauth immediately determined the true meaning and smiled broadly. "I should look good for the nobles. I will prove I am not a brute," he said with confidence.

"Gauth," Dahlia said kindly, completely unaware of the secret intentions, "we already know you're a good person. Your actions have already advocated on your behalf. If they can't see that, then they aren't good people themselves."

"It will be good to look…uh… Faen. Jævla taldorien," he grumbled.

"Gauth, he literally just said it," Al sighed. "Look the part. You're looking for 'look the part'."

Gauth tried to work through the translation in his head before he turned to Al. "Why do I want to look like something that broke?"

Dahlia gently explained the idiom while the others giggled at the mistranslation. Sen, looking at the group and figuring it would be easier than meeting with them later, asked, "I have nowhere to be really, so mind if I tag along? If not, I'm completely okay with meeting you all at the castle gates at eight."

Zoe tilted her head in confusion. "Don't you have a job? Like in a lab, or something?"

Before Sen could respond, Jayce tapped his arm and loudly said, "Actually, I got a question for ya! Mind if we talk outside? Got a few, eh, magic-centric things I'm curious about."

Visibly confused, Sen shrugged and followed him outside, grabbing his goggles off a hook by the door and slipping them on as they left.

Once outside, Jayce glanced at the moon-crested door multiple times before finally deciding against speaking, and pulled his journal out of his hastily-retrieved pack. He winced at his own handwriting, but it was a far safer option than risking Dahlia overhearing them speak through the closed door.

He wrote, "Dahlia's had it really rough recently, and lost the only things she had purchased with her own money. I want to get her something really nice, and as a local, I'm hoping you can help. A good coat would be perfect."

Jayce watched with nervous anticipation as Sen initially struggled to decipher the handwriting, but then settled into the pattern and gave the note his full attention. Mumbling a question to himself, he said, "Okay, I do know of a-"

Jayce quickly motioned for Sen to be quiet, a movement accented by placing a finger to his lips. He nodded toward the door with a look of panic, and leaned briefly to glance inside. From what he barely saw, Dahlia was sufficiently distracted by explaining something involving specific hand movements to the others. Likely magic.

However, all Sen could see was Jayce clearly avoiding verbal speech and his lean to check the front window that peeked into the living room. Not sure why he was being quiet, Sen signed Jayce a question using his hands.

In response, Jayce used the only sign he knew; he shrugged. Instead, he pointed at the journal, and just in case, held out his charcoal pencil.

That seemed to make it clear to Sen that Jayce intended to write this conversation rather than speak it. Taking the pencil and writing in a much more practiced hand, Sen responded "I know a few tailors that work with warmer wear, and I think I know one that should be open this early. There first?" Putting the pencil in the book, he closed it and handed his response to Jayce.

Jayce read the note and gave Sen a bright and thankful smile. Finally, a proper replacement for Dahlia's lost gear, one more befitting of a woman who sacrificed so much for those around her, someone who he believed truly made him a better person.

With a nod, Sen re-entered his home and announced with a smile, "Everyone! I have a place I like when I want to look nice. Shall I lead the way?"

"Ooo! Do they have fancy things, or just nice things?" Bera asked in a teasing tone.

"Oh my fair maiden, everything you wear will look fancy," Sen shot back with a flirtatious wink. "But they are reasonably priced and well made. Most of my coats are from there."

With giggles and groans, the Ceylon Seven packed their meager bags and prepared to follow Sen across town, off to an early-rising tailor. With high spirits and cheery voices in anticipation of receiving a reward for a job well done, the overcast sky did nothing to dampen them.

xXxXx

Just on the edge of the finer thoroughfares, Dawn Designs was an unassuming store, its only clue to its contents being the several well-embroidered long coats displayed in the windows on either side of the doorway. The wooden facade was painted a muted, forest green with brass filigree along the crossbeams, in the style of autumn leaves blown on the wind. A hanging sign with the tailor shop's name creaked gently in the light breeze, its own joints complaining in the late autumn chill. Even so, it was well lit within and quite welcoming in the early hour, with bright lanterns illuminating several displays of beautiful and solid outerwear to fend off the bitter Whitestone winters.

"Better not be too damn expensive," Al muttered as they walked up to the door.

"It shouldn't be," Sen reassured him. "Let's see if he's in." Knowing the door would be unlocked if the shop was open for business, Sen pushed the door to enter the store.

A chirping bell rang as the door opened, and an older man wearing magnifying goggles looked up from a partially embroidered coat on the counter with a grin. "Ah! Sir Sendori, it's good to see you again! Apparently my last coat was also not warm enough, if you've come back for another!"

With a sudden flourish and an arm across his forehead as if he could faint at any moment, Sen theatrically wailed, "Oh, but it is just so cold! I can barely sleep at night with my seven blankets wrapped around my meager frame! Oh how will I survive if your talents are not enough to prevent my body from perishing in this terrible chill?" His body curled forward in pretend anguish, Sen broke character and grinned as he looked up at his friend and tailor for his response.

The tailor broke out into a boisterous laugh and took off the goggles that had made his own eyes comically big. "Seven blankets?!" he wheezed. "Congratulations, sir, you have broken my own record for biggest ninny in Whitestone!"

Sen laughed right along with the tailor as he walked up and clapped the man's hand for a hearty handshake. "And a good morning to you too, you bastard. How are the kids?"

The tailor gladly returned the handshake and continued to smile. "Growing like weeds and serial purloiners of my many blankets. How's the lab? Any progress?"

"We actually had a breakthrough yesterday. With any luck, this was the breakthrough we needed!" Sen responded with pride.

Shockingly, the man's face got an even wider grin. He pumped Sen's hand even harder as he exclaimed in joy; "Great news! Wonderful news! The world will be better with those things off the streets." He glanced behind Sen where Jayce and the others were waiting, and Jayce offered a small wave of greeting. The tailor looked confused. "Anyway, what brings you in? You really shivering to death in this brisk autumn weather?"

"Not yet, but I brought you some business along with my own. I was in the market for another coat." With a wink and a finger to his lips to signal to the tailor to be quiet, Sen pulled out his pocket book and wrote out, "For the lady in white with Pelor's crest. She's blind, can hear everything, and doesn't know it's for her. It's a surprise!", before turning the book to show the tailor the note.

The tailor glanced over Dahlia, near the back of the store, who was feeling the texture of multiple different heavy coats as Bera described them. With an expert eye, he estimated her size, nodded, and winked at Sen. "I have just the thing. Hold a moment."

Jayce stepped up to the counter as the tailor rushed to the back room. "Thank you again for showin' us this place. This'll probably have exactly what we need."

"From my experience, he always does. Really fine stitchery too. You should see the nice coat I wear for parties," Sen added with a smirk.

Jayce was just about to mention how he was excited to see the options when the tailor returned, a garment bag in his hands. The tailor gently placed the bag across the counter and pulled out a beautiful emerald green velvet coat, emblazoned with a golden sun across the shoulders and collar. The fit was decidedly feminine, the seams double stitched for strength, and the limbs and chest padded both for warmth and for use as light armor.

"I call it, 'Pelor's Blessing in Spring'," the tailor said proudly.

Sen clapped with his approval. "It's beautiful! The green and gold compliment each other so well!"

"And it's built with the castor in mind!" the tailor continued. He shifted the coat so it draped over the counter and Sen could feel its fabric. "Look, it comes with complimentary gloves and belt, attached here, and both are designed for someone who carries things that need fine motor skills."

The belt in question included reinforced notches for attaching bags and component hooks, as well as a holster specifically for a wand. The gloves, tucked into the belt, were fingerless, but armored across the back of the palm and around the wrist and forearm. Jayce leaned closer and brushed the fabric, his expression one of absolute disbelief. From the way the embroidery of the sun glittered in the lamplight, it almost looked as if it was woven from pure gold, rather than simply dyed thread.

He couldn't think of a more perfect coat for Dahlia.

Cutting into Jayce's thoughts, Sen asked, "And what would the cost be for the coat and a fitting?"

The tailor, who had finally noticed that Jayce was the one truly interested in the coat, immediately became visibly nervous and pawed the coat closer to his side of the counter. "Uh, for a coat of this quality, uh, two- two-hundred gold," he stammered.

Jayce winced and huffed out a breath. A typical, basic cold-weather coat would cost about ten gold, but this coat was clearly one of immense quality and design. He knew he still had the gold to cover the cost, but on the other hand, it was a steep price for just a coat.

He looked over to Dahlia, who had apparently settled on an oversized trench coat. Zoe was good-naturedly teasing her about getting lost in it, but Bera had come to Dahlia's defense with some clever quips of her own. Throughout it all, Dahlia listened with a contented smile. He thought back to when they had chosen their group name, and Dahlia had mentioned her favorite memory was simply listening to them all talk. She didn't need much, she barely asked for anything, and throughout their travels, she gave them her all.

Perhaps she was worth the two-hundred gold. Jayce nodded to himself. She was worth far more than that.

Sen, on the other hand, knew that the coat was clearly overpriced. "Jayce? Why don't you go pick out something for yourself. I'll just be a moment." And just in case Jayce didn't get the hint, Sen placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him away.

Confused, Jayce followed directions and walked over to Al, who was browsing the cloaks as his had recently sustained multiple tears and holes caused by gunfire. Bera, on the other hand, immediately started listening as soon as she saw Jayce walked away; she knew the opportunity for news or gossip when she saw it, and her ears were always open for such information.

First but foremost, Bera felt a sense of pride when Sen quietly admonished the tailor for the inflated price that had clearly come about because of Jayce's skin. The tailor, with a slight shake to his voice, claimed bad habits were to blame, but to his credit, seemed apologetic. Bera peeked over at Dahlia and Zoe, pleased to see both were distracted, and slipped closer to the conversation, unseen by the men at the counter.

"-but have you heard the news about Westruun recently?" Bera leaned closer at the mention of her home from the tailor's lips. "They were overrun by Ravagers when their Margrave was assassinated! The whole town is in desperate straits!"

Bera gasped in shock and clapped both hands over her mouth, her throat dry as what fell upon her ears crashed into her heart. The city? Overrun? Her family was still there! She had her own quarrel with them, that much was probably obvious, but she meant them no harm! She had run away to save them!

And the Margrave was assassinated? Was that a mistake based on poorly repeated rumors, or was the previous Margrave's replacement now dead and buried? She had been instrumental in Zimmerset's removal, and it was no secret the man was a military genius. Had Colonel Peterson been right, that Zimmerset was the only man between the Ravagers and Westruun's downfall?

Did Westruun fall because of her?

A wave of nausea nearly sent her to her knees, but Bera couldn't show anyone what she was feeling. She was on the run, and so she should show no ties to an old home. She shoved a hand in her bag, easily retrieved a bottle of honeyjack, and took a heavy swig. Immediately, a wave of warmth washed through her, a comforting and familiar feeling.

With a natural smile plastered back on her face, false as it was, she rejoined Dahlia and Zoe, the latter of whom had found a warm and well-padded maroon outfit that she seemed fond of. It was nowhere near as official or form-fitting as her Cobalt Soul robes, but it afforded the same flexibility and movement, and Zoe was excited for the swap. Especially since she was still heavily stained with dark wine.

At this point, Sen walked up to the three of them with a smile that showed pride in himself. "Miss Dahlia?"

Dahlia, unable to decide between two very large but obviously functional winter coats, turned her ear toward Sen's voice. "Yes, sir?"

Speaking a little loudly and motioning Jacye over once the man noticed, Sen said, "It looks like Jayce found you a coat you may like. Would you like to feel it? If you like it, we can even have it fitted today."

Dahlia gave a little sigh and put on a nervous smile. "I suppose I can give it a once over. I should have enough to cover it once we-"

Jayce was far too excited to see her reaction to the coat to let her finish. He dashed over to her side and tapped her arm even before he had fully come to a stop. "We'll chat with the tailor about price after we see if we like it, Dahlia." He turned to Sen and smiled. "Thanks, sir."

Again, his impatience got the better of him, and he led Dahlia away before Sen could answer. Bera, finally feeling the floating sensation of becoming tipsy, giggled as she watched them walk away.

Sen leaned over to Bera and whispered, "Young love?" as he watched them leave.

Bera, her smile finally genuine as she felt almost weightless, giggled and turned to Sen. "Oh, yes. Although I'm not sure they've quite realized it yet themselves."

"They'll figure it out," Sen agreed. Standing straight and addressing the room, Sen asked, "Now, have we all found something, if we're looking?"

"Hell yeah!" Zoe announced. There, in the middle of the shop, she posed in the new maroon outfit, as she had apparently changed somewhere on the shop floor while the others were distracted. Jonathan, nearby, had buried his face in Puffpaw's side in embarrassment while Gauth giggled at his discomfort, so clearly not everyone had been distracted.

Coin was exchanged for the new outfits, as well as some simple cuts and modifications to Gauth's owlbear skin that made it a more effective cloak, and finally they were about ready to leave.

"Is Dahlia done yet?" Al huffed, his arms crossed. Unlike the others, he had yet to pay for his new cloak, and so his comment was twofold; to express his impatience, and to change the subject before he had to drag out his own coin.

"I believe she's about ready," the tailor explained. "She asked for privacy as she dressed into the altered coat."

"I mean, that's fair, even though it's just a coat," Jonathan said.

"So…um, how's it look?"

Everyone turned to Dahlia, who had stepped out of the back room. For the first time since anyone had seen her, she wore well-fitted clothes, her feminine shape finally on display. While Dahlia's short stature had done her no favors, the expert tailoring of the new winter coat brilliantly highlighted her hips and the slope of her shoulders, with ample room for her bosom to fit comfortably, rather than be restricted by the flatter trends of typical clothes.

Somehow able to feel everyone's gaze in the silence, Dahlia began to fidget nervously as she bit at her lip. Her mind threatened to scream at her, to force her to realize how ridiculous she probably looked. They were holding back laughter, weren't they? She should have just gone for the shapeless coat again-

"Holy crap, Dahlia! You were hiding a real figure under there!" Zoe almost yelled from her surprise.

Dahlia immediately felt her cheeks flush with heat as she tried to process the comment. "Um, thank…you?" she stammered.

Jayce was too shocked to make a secret of his stare. Her beautiful green eyes were the exact same shade as her coat, and they almost seemed to glitter like the golden thread of the sun that framed her collar. She was so beautiful…

But she didn't love him back. She didn't love him. He clenched his fists and bit his own tongue hard enough to distract himself as he began repeating the mantra over and over. He had to push past the feeling and remember that she was just a friend. A very good friend.

A very beautiful friend.

"Okay!" Al snapped, his impatience getting the better of him. "Before we all start dying of a sweet tooth, Dahlia, I found a bag you'd like too."

Nearly everyone was thankful for the distraction. Dahlia almost dashed over to Al and inspected the embossed leather bag Al presented, and confirmed it would work perfectly to replace her current all-too-worn option. Al, flustered at her graciousness, tried to play it off as just a logical gift.

"Just keep it stocked, okay? You're the one who keeps us alive," he huffed, refusing to look her in the eye.

"Of course I will," Dahlia beamed. "Thank you, Al."

Al grumbled a response and begrudgingly accepted the thanks, which caused Gauth to gently nudge him in teasing. Al, of course, nudged him back as hard as he could, but Gauth's only reaction was to snicker at the feeble attempt.

Sensing another chance to play his favorite game of wits with Al, Sen quipped, "A little too much attention there, catpaw?"

Al glowered at him. "Literally my job to be unseen, darkie," he hissed.

Sen winced at the response. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

Al rolled his eyes and stomped out of the store, his footfalls still nearly silent out of habit as the others looked on in confusion. As he left, his new cloak wrapped around his shoulders, Jonathan's eyes went wide and he immediately turned to Jayce.

"I think Al just walked out without paying," Jonathan whispered.

"Fuckin' shit," Jayce grumbled. "Thanks, Jon. I'll take care of it."

Sen had this look of irritation before he quickly suppressed it, casually placed his hands in his pockets, and followed Al out with a smile. Outside, Al had decided to camp out at the edge of the building, just past the windows where he leaned on the wall.

Al, of course, noticed that Sen had exited the building shortly after him, but he purposely ignored the man. The last thing he wanted at that moment was a conversation; there was a lot swirling in his head and another voice to add to the noise would be far less than helpful. Especially the man who was the subject of most of the turmoil. After all, Al was getting frustrated again, but Whitestone was a city he knew nothing about. He had no contacts, and no confirmed allies here that could potentially offer company on top of his usual trade. Of course, he knew, or at least thought he knew, that Sen would be someone, and if all he wanted was a warm body, did it matter if the man happened to be the sworn enemy of his hometown?

Then again, Sen was clearly fond of Dahlia and openly flirted with Bera, despite having a family portrait of himself and his late husband literally five feet away for at least one of those encounters. He even caught Sen and Dahlia cooking together!

Why did everything seem to gravitate to that irritatingly useful blind woman?!

Al could feel Sen's gaze boring into him and whipped around to face the drow. "What?!" he snapped, his fist under his cloak, just in case he needed (or wanted) to throw it.

"Just trying to figure you out," Sen defended with a shrug. "Privately you don't seem to mind taking risks, but in company you're completely abrasive. Just feels counter-intuitive if I'm honest."

Al crossed his arms and clenched his jaw in annoyance. "I know the advantage of having allies, but I'm not being nice without a reason," he growled.

"Then what did you want from me?" Sen asked.

"What did I-?!" Al stuttered. He almost whirled on Sen again, but this time he dragged his hands down his face and almost laughed. Was the man being intentionally antagonizing, or was Al just that wound up and easy to read? He was ashamed of himself. Why couldn't he be normal, and not have to worry about this twisted guessing game?

"You want to know what I want? Fine. Here's a rare moment of a gods-damned rogue being as honest as our fucking cleric. I want you to make some goddamn sense!"

"That so?" Sen mumbled to himself. "I've been honest about pretty much everything I've said. What doesn't make sense?"

Al narrowed his eyes at the drow. A sudden realization had come over him. What if Sen had been openly flirting because he also feared others' reactions to his preferences?

"Is Whitestone really the type of place that lets a man and his husband live in peace?" Al said darkly, his eyes narrowed as he watched Sen's reaction intently.

Sen's mood was visibly saddened at the question. "I can only imagine so. I lost him years ago, and I haven't been here that long." He looked up and around at the early morning lit street around them. He added, "He would have loved it here."

Al couldn't bring himself to look Sen in the eyes. Despite his own travels, pain, and hardship, he had never experienced the loss of a loved one as close as a spouse, but he did remember the pain his mother felt at the loss of his father. The memories of how deeply it changed her came to the front of his mind with vindictive clarity, reminding him how advantageous it was to leave home and work as far away from his mother as possible. And speaking of work, his mother was due for another letter soon. He should send one before she reached out first.

"So, I guess being drow pissed off people enough that no one cares if you're gay, right?" Al huffed.

Sen looked at Al with a raised eyebrow. "I'll just say yes and no. I will admit being black in a city much whiter has had it's disadvantages, but I'm not 'gay'. I'm not straight either. I actually don't have a preference," he finished with a shrug.

Al's lip curled in disgust and shock. "How…? Ugh, I can't even imagine," he said, his comment emphasized by a swallow that clearly suppressed a gag.

"Do you still think I'm not being honest?" Sen asked.

"No, just never met anyone who actually found both sexes attractive," Al groaned. That definitely made things complicated. However, he now knew that his initial impression was correct: Sen was a man who would sleep with men, even if he wasn't exclusive in that regard.

Al glanced through the window and noted everyone readying to leave, and turned to Sen. Sure, Al was desperate for physical company, but was he desperate enough to sleep with a drow?

"Later, drinks?" Al asked. "Clearly this is a longer conversation."

Sen took a second to think about it. "You know what? I could go for that. On one condition though."

Al glanced over his shoulder again at the group heading toward the door. "Whatever it is, fine! Yes or no?!"

Sen steeled his gaze at Al for just a moment. "Don't fucking steal from my friends again, and I'll see you later tonight. My place, ten at night."

Al growled under his breath but begrudgingly nodded as the remaining members of the Ceylon Seven stepped out from Dawn Designs, refreshed and well garbed for a visit with the ruling nobility of Whitestone. Gauth's owlbear skin was now a genuine cloak for his massive frame, the paws crossed in front with a heavy brooch to keep it in place, and Bera sported some fur of her own, a white rabbit-lined coat that cinched at the waist and enough length to nearly pass as a cold-weather gown, rather than a functional coat. Jonathan had chosen something more utilitarian, a long coat with a plethora of internal pockets, but outwardly it still cut a handsome figure. Zoe, in her new maroon outfit designed for movement and warmth, continually fussed over her brother's uncooperative hair as she walked him out, her comments on his choice full of pride and joy to see him looking so well.

Of course, the most stark difference was that of Dahlia, and by contrast, Jayce stood at her side, practically unchanged.

"There we all are! Are we all ready to meet the de Rolos?" Sen asked in a cheery tone, as if the conversation with Al had never happened.

"Lead the way, sir!" Jayce responded brightly.

Sen nodded and turned with a smile, the voices behind him clearly excited for the probable reward for their late-night foray into the Parchwood Timberlands. Gauth wondered if the reward would be per bandit killed, while Jonathan argued it would be in relation to the value of the stolen residuum. Bera wondered if it would be monetary at all, or more in line with titles or land deeds, but Zoe, Gauth, and Al clearly favored the coin. Those three quickly began practicing how to haggle for a more monetary bounty, just in case the halfling happened to be correct.

The day was overcast and cold, and their breath hung in the air in that early morning hour. As a chill wind brushed by, Dahlia breathed in relief; the coat was well designed and made, and she felt no chill on her limbs. It was a wonderful gift, one she would be sure to cherish for a long time.

Even in the darkness of her world, she easily sensed the Suntree as they passed. The whispered song of the wind through the leaves was unmistakable, a divine hymn that sang like a lullaby to all that wandered through the streets of Whitestone. Dahlia allowed her sense to wander, her hand on Jayce's elbow for direction as she became lost in the sounds and smells of the city.

She began to note a familiar shadow around them, and it wasn't the first time since arriving in Whitestone. The people spoke in hushed tones, fearful of a past that still haunted them. A whispered word that creeped into their conversations like poison, but spread like fire once it landed on a listening ear. Even the Suntree, as they passed Dawn's Square, had a scar upon its aura that Dahlia had felt deep in her soul when she communed with the tree.

Would she have noticed it, had her own darkness not been so familiar? She could not say. Even so, that word continued to catch her ear as they walked further toward Castle de Rolo, on the northern tip of Whitestone.

Whispered, quiet, creeping, it was always there.

Briarwood.