Tyranny of Dragons: The Tale of Rhiannon the Bard, a dungeons and dragons fanfic

Chapter 1: Greenest in Flames

The sun was shining low in a cloudless sky as the caravan traveled north toward The Trade Way and the city of Greenest. It was a small company, only a few covered wagons deep. The first wagon was pulled by a single horse. It was a small wagon carrying cages inside filled with various animals from the city of Amn. Most of the animals had been in need of rehoming, but a few of them were magical creatures that had been rescued from various trafficking groups and were being sent off for rehabilitation and potential release. The second wagon was pulled by two horses and was filled with various trade supplies—silks, gemstones, ores, and more—that would be shipped out of Waterdeep toward Neverwinter and Luskan. The third wagon was pulled by a team of oxen and carried a large load of basic armaments—spears, crossbows, short swords and the like. They, too, were headed back to Waterdeep to supply the city guard with training supplies.
A half-orc male and a human woman in covered chainmail followed behind the caravan on horseback, a large war hammer and a long sword strapped over their respective backs. Additionally, there were two human men in snug leather armor riding alongside the center wagon, crossbows strapped to the saddle within easy reach. On the front wagon there were two creatures in the drivers box, but… neither of them were driving. A slender human woman with bright orange hair lay across the lap of a male with light blue skin and white hair that seemed to blow in a breeze that didn't exist. The girl was the color of blank parchment with freckles that looked like a fountain pen had exploded ink across her cheeks. Her ocean blue eyes were squinted against the sun as she sprawled across the lap of her companion, a bottle of Esmeltar Red hanging lazily from her fingers.
"I don't know," she was saying, her words slow, "I think if you showed up with a dragon egg, he'd be thrilled."
"You think?" her companion asked, taking a quick swig of his Amnian dessert wine. "Maybe you're right." He pursed his pale blue lips and looked down at her. "Or maybe he would kick us out," he said with a mischievous chuckle.
The woman scoffed. "I think Petyr would sooner die than kick you out," she slurred, sitting up with a groan. "Conversely, he's looking for an excuse to get me off your proverbial couch."
The male rolled his eyes and smiled, adding his empty bottle to the collection rattling at their feet. "Petyr likes you. He's all bark and no bite. Just like that adorable little badger kit we're taking him."
"Hm, maybe they'll be best friends," she suggested with a pensive expression before the two of them exchanged a look and broke into drunken giggles.
"Miss Shipwright," a voice called from behind them. The woman tilted her head in direction of the sound. She leaned over the side of the driver's box and the male caught her by the belt to keep her from tumbling over the side. "Miss Shipwright," the man on horseback said again in greeting, riding up closer to their wagon. "We're coming up on the city of Greenest but look."
Her gaze followed the finger he pointed toward the horizon and the clouds of smoke that were billowing into the sky. Zephyr pulled her back into the box and followed her eyes. "Something is wrong," he said, flicking his luminous blue eyes up to the sky. "Those clouds aren't natural," he added as the two of them watched dark storm clouds spin in a wide circle, lightning flashing as the darkness gathered.
"Give us the horses," the woman said, sliding her hand across the front of the box and ducking her head like she was looking for something.
"Miss Shipwright, I don't think your father would-," the man started to protest, keeping his horse in pace with the wagon.
"My father is going to want his stuff," she said, waving a hand in the air at him. "Where the hell are the reins? Zephyr—" The reins were in Zephyr's palm, startling her as she turned around and they were right in her face. "Gods, Zeph." She took the reins and yanked them back, stumbling over one of the wine bottles as she stood up and attempted to dismount. "We'll ride ahead and figure out what's going on. You four stay with the carts. If we aren't back by nightfall, figure out a way to divert from here to the Trade Way."
The man on the horse stared at her for a moment as she clumsily dropped out of the driver's box and her blue friend gracefully stepped out behind her. "Respectfully, Miss Shipwright, I think you might be drunk. If we return with the goods and not you, your father will be… displeased," he protested.
"Oh, get off the horse, Erdan," she told him, catching his horse's halter and glaring up at him. "I'm fine. We're just riding ahead to look. We won't do anything stupid."
He didn't look very convinced, but Erdan did dismount and situate himself to help her mount up. She rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look as she stuck her foot in the stirrup and swung herself up into the saddle, sitting up straight with her chin high. Erdan sighed and glanced back at his partner, who was passing his horse off to Zephyr. Zephyr mounted in one graceful sweep and smirked over at Rhiannon's eye roll.
"We'll be back. And if we're not, divert," Rhiannon directed, kicking into the horse's side and taking off in a canter towards the town.
Zephyr pulled up next to her quickly and called over, "Impressively graceful after 4 bottles of red!"
"If we stop running, I might throw up," she replied, pressing the back of her hand against her lips.
He threw his head back and laughed a light, airy laugh. "Are we really just going to leave the wagons back there?"
"Well, I don't think we should take them towards the fire and ominous storm clouds," she called back.
"Good point!"
They were a mile or two away from the edge of the city when it suddenly became glaringly obvious what was happening in Greenest. They both watched in a combination of horror and awe as a massive blue dragon emerged from the storm clouds and breathed lightning across a line of buildings before hovering near the edge of town and screeching a roar.
Rhiannon yanked the reins so tightly against her that her horse reared up on its back legs. "Zeph, is that what I think it is?"
"That is a blue dragon," Zephyr answered, a smile spreading across his face. "Gods, it's beautiful."
"Probably not the correct response to watching it burn down a city," Rhiannon replied, shooting him a sidelong glance. "Shit. Shit. What do we do?"
"Um, run?" Zephyr suggested, looking over at her with raised brows. "What else would we do? We go back, we tell them to divert the hell away from this place, and we run."
Rhiannon stared into the city, watching dots scrambling across the ground in the distance as the dragon did another pass over the town. What were the odds, she wondered, that they could get any of those people out? They couldn't take on a dragon, but could they help? And why was a dragon attacking such a small township in the first place?
"I know that face, Rhi," Zephyr said, glancing between her and the town on fire. "What are you thinking?"
"We should go help, right?" she asked without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the moving dots. "There's a dragon attacking their city. They don't stand a chance."
Zephyr barked a laugh. "You can't be serious. We don't stand a chance."
"I'm not saying we should fight the dragon, I'm just saying we should go do something. Maybe if we get a little closer, we can…" She trailed off. "No. That's crazy, right?"
"It is," Zephyr said with a decisive nod. He looked over at her again. "Isn't it?"
She chewed on her lip for a brief second before snapping her reins. "Come on, let's go!" And they both took off toward Greenest, as fast as their horses could carry them.

Up close, it was chaos. It wasn't just the dragon attacking–there were kobolds darting through the streets with satchels slung across their chests, brandishing rickety-looking weapons at unarmed townsfolk. There were men and women dressed in black wearing masks on their faces fashioned to mimic the facial structure of various dragons. Rhiannon pulled her horse to a stop and slid out of the saddle, her boots thudding against the soft earth as she crouched behind its flank. Zephyr followed suit, huddling up beside her as they both took the crossbows there and loaded bolts into the chamber as quietly as possible.
"What's the plan here?" he asked in a whisper, his breath cool against the back of her ear.
She bit down on her thumb nail and watched as the few men and women she could only assume were members of some kind of cult pointed and shouted over the screaming and collapsing buildings. "Do you think they like music?" she suggested with a frown.
"Rhiannon," Zephyr hissed, glaring over at her. "Do not tell me we are within crossbow range of a fucking dragon and you want to sing a shanty to the kobolds!"
"So no?" she clarified, bobbing her head in agreement. "Okay, okay, okay… Um…" As she was deliberating, an ambush drake sauntered its way into the path in front of them, flanked by 3 kobolds who were all cackling about the treasure they had pillaged from one of the shops. It hadn't noticed them, by the grace of one of the gods.
Zephyr looked at Rhiannon with wide eyes and raised brows, nodding toward the ambush drake urgently.
"Yeah, I know, we have to go," she whispered, tossing the reins over her horse's neck. Zephyr mirrored her and with a quick smack to the backside and a sharp yah! the horses thundered off in the direction of the caravan.
"Oh shit," Zephyr muttered, watching as the ambush drake turned its long neck in their direction.
"Run," Rhiannon said, and they almost ran into each other as they both scrambled to get out of direct sight. They split up, Rhiannon running toward a building to the left and Zephyr running to the right. The kobolds scrambled for a moment before taking off after Zephyr, the ambush drake dragging his thick body through the dirt toward Rhiannon.
"Rhi, what the fuck," Zephyr said into her mind, his voice a breathy whisper. She couldn't see him as she pressed herself against the back wall of what she assumed was someone's home. She dug through her pocket for the ring of copper wire she used to respond, slipping it onto her pointer finger and pointing in his direction. "Yeah, I don't know, I panicked," she admitted, glancing around the corner. "Are you sure a song is out of the question?"
"Kobolds," he replied, and she could suddenly hear commotion across the street where Zephyr began casting.
Shitshitshitshit. She could hear the sliding of the drake's tail as it prowled toward her, a low rumbling growl in its throat. She hefted the crossbow into position, leaned around the corner, and fired a shot. As expected, the arrow grazed over the drake's scaly hide and fell into the dirt beside him. Shit. She pointed toward where she assumed Zephyr was again and said into his mind, Zeph, I'm not equipped for this–I'm a talker, not a fighter!
I'm coming, he whispered back, and she sighed in relief just as a massive set of jaws appeared right next to her face, saliva dripping from the bared fangs. She squealed and ran as it snapped its jaws, barely missing her shoulder as she darted around it and back toward Zephyr. She skidded to a stop when she'd put enough distance between them, but as she loaded another bolt into the crossbow, the drake ran for her. She nearly fumbled the bow and as she lifted it to take aim, the drake tackled her to the ground. Her heart was in her throat as she pulled the trigger, her eyes squeezed shut in terror. She thought she might have died for a split second before she dared to open one eye and saw that her bolt had found its mark, straight through the top of the drake's mouth and into its head. Blood started to drip from the wound and a low hissing sound like the deflating of a balloon seeped from the drake's throat as it collapsed on top of her, the weight like bricks had been placed on her torso.
"Oh gods, Rhi!" she heard Zephyr shout behind her, skidding into the dirt behind her and tugging her free from the drake's weight. "Are you okay?" He started checking her for wounds and she just stared past him for a long moment before doubling over and vomiting onto the ground. "Oh ew. That's disgusting."
"Remind me not to drink 3 bottles of wine before fighting off a horse-sized dragon," Rhi moaned, wiping her mouth and taking a steadying breath.
"You had 4 bottles," Zephyr corrected, pulling them both to their feet. "I can't believe you took down an ambush drake by yourself."
"Me neither. I think it was an accident. Or just a lot of luck." She brushed her hair back and squeezed the hand Zephyr had used to help her up. "Are you okay?"
"A little scratched up, but I'll bet Petyr thinks battle scars are sexy," he replied with a wink.
She pursed her lips as she looked him over, finding that he was indeed a little bloodied up on one of his arms, but his hair was still perfect and flowing in his constant personal breeze. "I hate how good you look right now, it's so unfair."
He chucked, licking the pad of his thumb and smudging it across her cheek. "You're like a sexy warrior queen. The dirt suits you."
She shoved him and as she opened her mouth to respond, five humans darted out from between two buildings on their left. They both watched as a limping man and three small children ran across the street into more shadows and a woman carrying a round shield and a broken spear faced off in the direction they had come from. Seven kobolds streamed out of the alley on their heels and fanned out around the woman, but she kept her feet planted, seeming determined to hold them off. The kobolds either didn't notice the two of them or didn't care, too distracted by their original target.
The sky had started to darken beyond the storm clouds as Rhiannon looked past them and noticed a pair of cultists still in the middle of the street ahead. "Do you think the luck will last a little longer, or am I about to get myself killed?"
"What's the plan?"
"Stupid," she admitted. "Follow me, but try to keep an eye on her. I have an idea." She slipped in the direction the kobolds had come from, clinging to the shadows to the best of her ability. Zephyr followed her with naturally quiet footsteps, keeping an eye on the woman as directed. She was defending herself well, but she was only one woman against the seven angry lizards.
They stopped about twenty feet away from a pair of cultists who were chatting together. "I heard one of the kobolds back there bragging about the gold they'd found," she whispered. "I think this might be some sort of raid. What do you think?"
"Seems likely enough," he answered with a shrug. "Why?"
She took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Because I'm going to try something," she muttered, rubbing her hands together. Zephyr watched with an awed smile as she made a few gestures with her hands until they glowed a dim teal before he heard a disembodied voice from about ten feet beyond the cultists shouting, "I need hands over here!" as she mouthed the words silently beside him. She glanced over at him before watching the cultists intently. "Moment of truth…"
Tymora must have been with her because one of the cultists said, "I'll go check it out," and disappeared. Rhiannon was visibly relieved, slumping against the wall of the building and sighing again. "I can't believe that worked."
"You're incredible," Zephyr told her, elbowing her in the side.
"Hold that thought," she said with a weak smile. "Let's see how this part goes." She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his cheek with a little pat. "If I die, I love you," she told him, straightening her shoulders and marching directly toward the lone cultist in the road.
Zephyr watched like a proud parent as his friend sauntered up to the man with probably six inches of height on her. She twirled her hair around her finger and batted her lashes until her eyes glowed with that same dim teal. "Hey handsome," she said with a coquettish grin. "I could put an outfit like that to good use. Mind if I… take it off you?"
Zephyr barely contained his cackle, shoving his fist against his mouth and watching as that same dim glow flashed behind the dragon mask. He silently pumped his fist in the air before pressing it to his lips again to keep from laughing. In mere moments, the cultist had stripped down his cloak and passed it off to her along with his mask.
She winked at him, nodding her head in the direction the other cultist had gone. "Why don't you go see to all that gold with your friend?" she suggested, waiting until he followed her instructions before walking a little too quickly back towards Zephyr, mouthing oh my gods and throwing the clothes into his arms. "Did you see that?! Holy shit, I can't believe that worked. I've only ever used that spell on, like, ritzy shopkeepers and drunken sailors before."
"I never doubted you for a moment. Why are you handing me these?"
"Put them on. I'm on a roll, let's keep this streak alive."
"Rhi, I am not interested in wearing some ridiculous costume to–"
"Zeph, it's not a fashion show–we need to go help her!" she urged, pulling the cloak over his shoulders. "It won't fit me. It has to be you. Shut up and put it on."
"I won't forgive you for this," he said flatly as she pulled the mask over the top half of his face.
"Captor or partner?" she asked, pulling him back towards the woman and the kobolds–down to five now, but she was looking rough.
"Ohh, I want to be the captor. That sounds fun," Zephyr said.
"That means you have to do the talking," she warned, stopping him and straightening his costume. "You've got to order the kobolds away and act like you're taking us prisoner or something."
"I think I can handle that," Zephyr said, but she couldn't see his expression behind the mask, only his lips puckered thoughtfully.
"I'm not sure if I'm more concerned or less concerned by your confidence," she muttered, turning around and offering him her crossed wrists behind her back. "Make it convincing."
He grinned, grabbing her wrists and pushing her forward into the street where the woman and kobolds were engaged. There were four now, but the woman was on one knee, panting and using her spear shaft to hold herself upright.
"Leave her be," Zephyr ordered the kobolds as they approached, speaking in a fake accent that nearly made Rhiannon look back at him. "I'll take her."
"But we been chasing her long time," one of the kobolds protested, brandishing a sword at him. "She been killing us off!"
"She can join this one in a cell," Zephyr insisted. "Move into town. I heard there's a cache of gold up there somewhere to stuff your satchels with."
The kobolds exchanged sneers but harrumphed and scrambled past them into town. The woman shoved herself to her feet, although Rhiannon could see her knees shaking, and held her spear aloft. "You can kill me, but you sure as hell aren't taking me with you," she threatened.
"No, no, it's okay!" Zephyr said, waving a hand while he lifted the mask with the other. "We're here to help."
Rhiannon elbowed him in the side. "Get us out of sight first," she said through her teeth.
"Oh, right. You should come with us," he said, putting the mask back in place.
The woman blinked in surprise but seemed to sag with relief. "My family went to the keep. It's the only safe place in Greenest right now. I need to find them," she replied, lowering her spear.
"Lead the way," Zephyr said with a bright smile below the mask.
"But make it look like he's leading the way," Rhiannon added with a quick roll of her eyes.
She led them between another set of buildings and they skirted along a back alley for a few blocks, clinging to the shadows and avoiding the gaggles of kobolds terrorizing the townsfolk. Between the three of them, they were able to grab a handful of others to bring along with them as they made their way to the keep. As they grew closer, Rhiannon started to feel a bubble of confidence in her chest that they were going to make it to safety unmolested. However, as they darted past an alleyway, a hand reached out of the darkness and caught her by the shoulder, yanking her backwards and eliciting a small yelp of surprise.
"Not so fast," a voice whispered against her ear, the gravely male voice low and threatening. His grip tightened on her shoulder and he raised a hand that started to crackle with lightning.
Rhiannon flinched away and shouted, "Zephyr!" before the man could clamp his other hand over her mouth.
Zephyr immediately halted, shooing the other people past him as he faced the cultist holding his friend. "Let her go."
"Like you let my friend go?" he asked, tilting his masked face to the side. "Where did you get that mask? You're not one of us."
Zephyr could hear Rhiannon's protest from beyond the hand of her captor as she tried to tug herself free, but the cultist's shocking grasp grew closer to her body with every squirm. He pulled the mask away from his face and gave her a quick warning look. "Your friend is fine. My friend is quite charming when she wants to be," he replied. "She simply asked nicely."
The cultist frowned. "You think I'm an idiot? I am the Dragon. I won't be fooled by the likes of you."
"I love dragons," Zephyr said, and he wasn't lying. "Let my friend go. Maybe we can come to some kind of agreement. We were traveling with a caravan of goods. You seem to be running some sort of raid. Maybe we can help each other."
Rhiannon nodded vehemently, instantly catching on to Zephyr's bluff. She released her hold on the cultist's arms and raised them in surrender.
"What kinds of goods?" the cultist asked, the electricity moving through his fingers dissipating, but his grip holding firm against Rhiannon's jaw.
"My friend here is the daughter of a merchant in Waterdeep," Zephyr explained. "We were passing through Greenest on our way home with a caravan filled with gems and ores and weapons. I'm sure you and your friends could use someone with her connections."
The cultist lifted his chin, deliberating. "Why steal our robes if you were interested in joining us?"
Zephyr flashed a beautiful white smile. "Dress for the job you want, am I right? Besides, I'm sure your superiors would love to know what kinds of weaknesses your friends have in order to close the gaps. My friend and I just exploited one of them without any casualties. We would make a wonderful addition to whatever this operation is," he added, gesturing to… everything.
"Mondath would probably find that information valuable," the cultist admitted, his posture relaxing as he lowered his hand from Rhi's mouth and she shoved away from him. "The two of you can follow me. I'll take you to her."
Rhiannon and Zephyr exchanged a quick series of silent expressions and gestures when the cultist turned around that conveyed something like this:
Are we joining a cult tonight?
No! Of course not!
We can if you want to–I just need to change gears if we're joining a cult tonight.
I didn't know joining a cult was on the table. Let me think about it…
Zephyr, I don't think we should join a cult. Plus, you just ransomed our shipment!
True, I did do that. Fine, no cult.
Kill this guy?
Kill this guy.
And with nods of confirmation, Rhiannon pulled her crossbow into her arms and Zephyr's hand crusted with ice crystals as he cast a ray of frost at the same time Rhiannon fired a bolt into the cultist's back. Both attacks landed and the cultist collapsed forward into the dirt of the alley.
"Holy Tymora, we need to visit the temple when we get back to Waterdeep," Rhiannon breathed, looking over at Zephyr in awe. "You were brilliant. Where the hell did that come from?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, but it was brilliant, wasn't it?"
"I really thought we were joining a cult tonight," she replied, brushing her hair away from her face.
He pursed his lips. "The night is still young."
She grinned and rolled her eyes again. "Come on, help me get this guy's mask and robes."
"Have you ever killed someone before?" Zephyr asked as he helped her pull the mask off the cultist's face and strip the robe from his shoulders, the blood from the crossbow bolt cold and flakey from being instantly frozen. He watched Rhi carefully extract the robe from around the bolt, a thoughtful look crinkling the freckles nearest her eyes.
"No, I don't guess I have. I might have felt bad about it if he hadn't wanted to kill us first."
"Do you think we should have run instead?"
"No… He would've remembered our faces. We're too pretty not to remember," she said with a wink as she gathered the robe and mask in her arms. "Come on. We should get to the keep, too. I doubt we're getting back out of here before sunrise. We can figure out what to do from there."
"But first," Zephyr mumbled, rummaging through the man's pockets and pouches. "I think we've earned this." He dangled a coin purse in front of her face, tossed it up, and caught it before stuffing it into his own pockets.
"Clever man," she said with a smile. "Now let's go."

The two of them made it to the keep just as the gates were closing and more and more cultists started to gather around the outside. The doors slid through the dirt behind them, closing them into the massive yard. The wall was probably twenty-five feet high and ran from one side of a central tower to the other. The tower itself was probably twice that in height and width, creating a huge fortified space in the center of town to protect against exactly this type of raid. As Zephyr and Rhiannon made their way toward the entrance of the tower where everyone was being ushered inside, Rhiannon overheard a man shouting directions at the city guard. She tapped the back of her fingers against Zephyr's arm and nodded in the man's direction. "Let's go see what's going on," she said quietly.
As they approached, a crowd of guards was gathering around the man. He looked to be in his sixties, with greying hair down to his shoulders and a neatly-kept beard. The right side of his face was bandaged and his right arm was in a sling and as they got closer, Rhiannon realized his light blue tunic was stained with blood–presumably his own, judging from the injuries. It didn't seem like he had stopped to have them tended much beyond the wrap and the sling. "We need a motive," he was calling out to the guards. "I don't want to risk more casualties, but we need to know who is attacking, and why. I need volunteers to venture out and capture one of their commanders–even a low-ranking one–to bring back here for questioning."
"We can help you with that," Rhiannon volunteered, the eyes of all of the armored guard shifting to her in surprise. The man looked in her direction as well, turning to face her. He had a pleasant face, she noticed, when it wasn't being shredded by kobolds or explosions. His muddy brown eyes settled on her under a furrowed brow. Before he could question her, she volunteered, "We know they're a cult. Presumably some kind of dragon cult," she added, holding up one of the masks. "I can't tell you why they're here, but we know the name of their commander."
"Mondath," Zephyr said from behind her. "That was the name we heard."
"How did you hear this name?" the older man asked. "And how did you acquire these masks?"
Rhiannon looked up at Zephyr and shrugged. "We were on our way into Greenest when we saw what was happening. We were kind of just messing around. Trying to see what we could do."
The older man let out a high-pitched chuckle of surprise. "The two of you infiltrated a dragon cult while you were just messing around?" he repeated, baffled. "Well, did you hear anything else about this Mondath character?"
"Just that she would be interested to learn about any of their own weaknesses," Zephyr offered.
The man looked between Rhiannon and Zephyr and his group of armed guards before raking a hand through the side of his hair that wasn't bandaged. "Well… Do you think you might be up for learning a little bit more?"
Rhiannon tried to stifle her grin. "We could be persuaded."
The man stuck out his hand. "I am Governor Nighthill. Greenest is my town. I would like to still have a town by the time the sun rises, if you please. If the two of you are willing to help, I would be willing to compensate you for your services."
"I do love being compensated for my services," Zephyr said with a light laugh while Rhiannon shook the governor's hand.
"My name is Rhiannon. This is Zephyr. We'll do what we can."
"Am I wrong in assuming you could use a little more… muscle… to aid your efforts?" Governor Nighthill asked, considering the two of them.
"I'm so glad you asked, we would love some muscle to aid our efforts," she agreed brightly, her eyes slipping over to the men in uniform as she bit down on her bottom lip. "What exactly are we putting our efforts towards?"
"I want some of them brought here for questioning," Nighthill answered, pointing at two of the men. "Hale and Marrus can assist you."
Hale and Marrus made their way over to the governor, their shoulders set back confidently. One had a hand on the hilt of his short sword, the other had a hand on the shaft of a long spear. They were, Rhiannon and Zephyr both noticed, quite muscular.
"What's the best way in and out of this place?" Rhiannon asked.
"There is an old tunnel that runs beneath the cellar of the keep," Nighthill suggested. "It may be locked, but Castellon can provide you with the key. He should be just inside."
"Right. Let's go capture some cultists, then, boys," she said with a bright smile, shoving Zephyr lightly with her shoulder.
Inside the keep, they were able to find the shield dwarf with the keys, the wild-maned redhead grumbling about parting with the tunnel key all the while as he removed it from his giant brass keyring. Zephyr slid it into his pocket and followed the two guards into the cellar and down into the tunnel below. It was old and dark and had clearly not been used for decades, if not longer. The guard with the spear took a torch from the cellar walls before descending into the tunnels behind them.
"So which one are you?" Zephyr finally asked, looking between them.
Spear said, "I'm Hale."
Sword offered, "Marrus," but neither seemed keen on conversation.
Zephyr persisted anyway. "Are you both from Greenest?"
Silent nods from both guards.
"Have you guys ever been raided before?"
They exchanged a look and then shook their heads.
"Strong, silent type. Okay. Hm. Rhiannon, take off your shirt."
The two men whipped their heads in his direction but his face was schooled into cool neutrality.
Rhiannon chuckled. "Zephyr, you know that's a last resort. We don't just start ripping our clothes off because attractive men won't talk to us."
"I've never had this problem before," he said with a pout. "They're usually the ones doing all the talking."
"You're out in the wild, Breezy. Men don't talk in the wild. Only in the paid quiet of brothel rooms."
"Maybe you're just not their type. Maybe I'm the one who should be ripping off clothes."
Rhiannon snorted. "I'm everyone's type. I'm a joy to be around."
"Hale doesn't seem to be enjoying you," Zephyr observed, looking down at his well-manicured nails. "Nor Marrus."
"Meaning no offence, ma'am," Hale finally spoke up. "You're very pretty. We're just… This is-. Well, this is a serious situation."
"Are you always so cavalier when a city is being raided then?" Marrus added.
"Me being upset about it isn't productive," Rhiannon offered. "It's a shame that your city is being raided, yes. But at least I'm doing something about it. Do you agree?"
The guards exchanged another look. "I suppose so," Marrus allowed with a disgruntled frown.
"We didn't exactly see you all chomping at the bit to volunteer to find captives," Zephyr added. "It seemed more like you were voluntold."
"Did you just say you're from a brothel?" Hale asked, looking over his shoulder to Zephyr. "What do you know about raids and cultists?"
"Only that they really wanted me to join their club about a half hour ago," Zephyr said with a shrug. "Nothing besides."
"He isn't in the brothel anymore anyway," Rhiannon said, turning to face him and continuing backwards down the tunnel, her grin stretching across her face. "His boyfriend bought him out."
"That's right, he did, didn't he?" Zephyr returned her smile. "You know he's going to freak out when we get back, right?"
"He'll be fine," she replied with a dismissive wave as they made it to the locked door at the end of the tunnel. "Well, boys, how are you with your hands? Good strong fingers?"
"Perhaps toes?" Zephyr added with a grin.
"I've got the key," Hale offered, pulling it from the pouch tied to his belt. He held it out to Rhiannon and she twirled it around a finger as she inspected the gate.
"How often does this tunnel get used?" she asked, beckoning him closer with the torchlight as she squatted down and peered into the keyhole.
"During siege," Marrus supplied.
"So, never?" She looked at the key and back to the keyhole. "The lock is rusted over. I can try to make this work, but it's likely going to damage the internal mechanism."
"I love it when you use words like internal mechanism." He stepped up and crouched beside her. "Let me try something." He whispered effectus and as he flicked his fingers at the lock, small, white traces of magic flashed and disappeared. When he stood up and she inspected the lock again, much of the rust had vanished.
She swiped a hand across the surface and smiled. "Wait, teach me that one," she said, pulling him back down. "What's the word?"
"I use effectus," he said, creating a little puff of air that blew her hair back as he said it again.
"Effectus!" Rhiannon repeated, and her fingers produced a similar magical effect against the lock, the teal glow spreading across the surface before dissipating. "That's awesome," she whispered, looking over at him. She slipped the key into the lock, carefully maneuvering it into the correct space before attempting to twist it slowly. It got stuck a couple of times but with some wiggling she was able to turn the tumblers all the way back. The lock clicked and the door swung slightly ajar on its creaking hinges. She and Zephyr exchanged celebratory high fives as Marrus stepped forward and slowly pushed the gate open. He held up a hand as he peered around each side of the tunnel's exit. Hale tossed the torch deeper into the tunnel the way they had come, leaving a very dim glow on the walls that slowly disappeared as the flames sputtered out against the damp ground.
Marrus turned back toward them and beckoned them forward, pressing a finger to his lips. "I see three cultists that way," he said softly. "We can probably avoid them if we time it right."
"Or they might be the perfect ones to abduct," Rhiannon whispered. "Even if they're lower-ranking, Nighthill said he wanted captives.
"We've seen a lot of kobolds out there," Zephyr said quietly. "If there are no kobolds with them, they may be the easiest ones to snatch."
"Do they look like anything special to you?" Marrus asked, taking a half-step back as Rhiannon squeezed between him and the wall to peer out into the darkness. The three cultists were all masked humanoids with no particularly distinctive features. The masks they wore were identical to the ones she and Zephyr had taken off of the other cultists.
"Nothing special," she answered. "If Zeph and I lure them over here, can you guys knock them out or something?"
Hale looked at Marrus and they both shrugged. "Most likely."

"Let's put the costumes back on," Rhi said, pulling them from her pack. She passed one off to Zephyr and pulled the other one on, carefully adjusting the mask around her hair and pulling the hood of her cloak up. She fussed over the shoulders of Zephyr's cloak and adjusted his mask before turning to the other two. "How do we look?"
"Like cultists," Hale said, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips, finally. "I like this plan." He rested his spear against the wall of the tunnel and cracked his gauntlet-covered knuckles.
"At least one of you has more personality than a sack of potatoes," Rhiannon commented. "If we survive this, Marrus, remind me to show you how to loosen up." He only stiffened in response.
"They're getting closer," Zephyr said, rolling his shoulders back. "Let's do this."
Rhiannon followed him out of the tunnel and into the darkness on the bank of a small creek. "I think the truth works well enough here," she murmured. "Agree?"
"Agree. You lead. I've got your back."
She nodded, taking a few steps toward the trio of cultists about sixty feet away. "We found something over here," she called, waving them over. "It looks like it might lead directly into the keep, but there's a hatch at the end. We can't get it to budge."
The trio stopped for a moment, exchanging a few hushed words before walking towards them. The one holding the torch was wearing a mask fashioned to look like a black dragon. He spoke first. "Any idea where in the keep it leads to?" He asked in a surprisingly pleasant voice. "The last thing we need is to walk ourselves right into an arsenal to be used against us."
"I can't say for sure," Rhiannon answered. "Do you want to come take a look? If you don't think it's a good idea, we can always go for reinforcements."
"You said you just happened upon this tunnel?" a woman's voice asked as another cultist stepped forward. Her mask was shaped like a red dragon, but more importantly her mask was gold. Rhiannon hadn't noticed the difference in the darkness.
"Yes."
"What were you doing back here in the first place?"
She felt Zephyr shift toward her. "We were tired of the kobolds," Rhiannon bluffed. "We came to the back of the keep to see if there was anything worth note."
"And thank the gods we did," Zephyr added. "This is probably our best way in."
The woman in the gold mask regarded them for a moment and Rhiannon felt something sharp and cold drive into her mind. She winced and shook it off, but before she could reach out to warn Zephyr, she saw his hand twitch towards his head.
"Hm… Gods, indeed," the woman said. "We might have fallen for your bluff. But we do not serve the gods. We serve one God and she is the Queen of Dragons." Before they could react, she cast a spell that Rhiannon didn't recognize, pointing a finger at Zephyr as a streak of crackling red light hit him square in the chest.
"Zephyr!" Rhiannon shouted, wincing in pain as an arrow grazed her shoulder. Her eyes glowed teal as she pointed to the golden mask and then to the ground and shouted, "Obsequor!" She derived a surprising amount of pleasure from watching the woman drop to her hands and knees, obviously struggling to resist. Rhiannon tore her eyes from the woman to hold her other hand out to Zephyr and said, "Te curo," as her magic surrounded him. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer, just shoved her behind him and threw his hands out, shouting, "Tonitru!" as a boom of thunder and a shockwave erupted forward from his hands, knocking the two silver masks back another ten feet. Gold mask flinched, but couldn't move, still groveling on the ground in front of them. He pulled Rhiannon into a run back toward the tunnel. "That's my bad," he said, sweat beading his brow. "Probably should've guessed they're worshipping a dragon."
"She probed your thoughts, Zeph, don't feel bad. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
She could tell by the way his jaw flexed that he was mad at himself for blowing their bluff, but they couldn't dwell on it as a couple more arrows shot past their ears. "They still don't suspect an ambush–let's just get them to the tunnel."
He nodded, narrowly avoiding another one of those crackling red beams of light.
They both ran at a full sprint, listening to the pursuing footsteps behind them until the tunnel was in arm's reach. Just as they were about to turn the corner, a skeletal hand materialized in front of Rhiannon, stopping her in her tracks as it dug its bony fingers into her collar. She cried out in pain and instinctively went to pull the hand away, but there was nothing to grab on to-the hand was spectral. Her knees buckled and it took all of her effort to keep upright.
To her surprise, Zephyr's arms were not the ones that wrapped around her and pulled her the rest of the way into the tunnel. Hale was there, one arm securely around her waist while the other pulled her arm over his shoulder for support. "I've got you," she heard him say, but it was like listening through a wall. Spots covered her vision, but she could make out Zephyr just outside the mouth of the tunnel, casting something before he disappeared in a cloud of fog. Then everything went black.
When she came to, Zephyr was sitting beside her with a smug grin on his face, watching something just out of her range of vision. She groaned softly and rubbed at her collar bone. "Breezy?"
His bright blue eyes immediately found hers. "Good morning, Curls," he said with a smile. "How do you feel?"
She made another noise of displeasure and tried to sit up. "Like a displacer beast's chew toy."
He dropped his voice to a whisper and his eyes darted across the space again. "I think Hale is falling for you. He pulled you out of there when you went down. He seemed actually worried. He gave you a potion, but it didn't work. I assume some effect of whatever spell she used on you. He was afraid you weren't going to wake up. He, uh…" Zephyr's grin was bright in the torchlight. "He took his concerns out on the cultists."
Rhiannon felt herself smile. "I'm irresistible, you know this," she managed, rubbing her knuckles against her closed eyes. "Are there any more of those potions on tap though? I could definitely use a pick-me-up."
Zephyr winked at her. "Ask your boyfriend." He jerked his head in the direction he'd been looking before to see three humanoids–at least one of which seemed to be part-elf. Each of them had their hands bound and mouths gagged to prevent any surprise spellcasting. Two of them were men and one–the one looking the worse for wear, to Rhiannon's surprise–was a woman. Their masks and cloaks had been stripped off and they were silent as the grave as they sat in the dirt and bled from their wounds. Marrus was standing with his arms crossed at the mouth of the tunnel, blocking any chance of escape, while Hale stood directly over the cultists with his spear at the ready. He had a bloodied lip and his shoulder length brown hair had broken free from its restraint, but he seemed okay. More than okay, if Rhiannon was being honest.
"How long was I out?"
"Maybe 20 minutes?" Zephyr guessed, running a hand through his wispy white hair. "Enough time for us to deal with them. Hale insisted we give you a minute to recover. Marrus wasn't happy about it, but when I suggested he just carry you, he reconsidered," he explained with a soft laugh. "I thought I was taking care of you all this time. Apparently I should be taking notes."
She snorted. "Stop it." She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling for a moment before she caught her balance. She pulled her hands through her hair and righted herself, snickering as Zephyr dusted off her backside before nudging her toward Hale. She stepped quietly toward him and tapped him on the shoulder, leaning back as he turned to face her and spun his spear off to the side. She smiled up at him and she saw something in him visibly relax. "Hi."
"Hi," he replied, his hazel eyes scanning her from head to toe. "You're awake."
"I am," she agreed. "I hear I have you to thank for that."
Red spread into his cheeks like a drop of dye into water and he glanced down at the cultists. "Anyone would've-. I just-." He cleared his throat. "I'm glad to see you're okay." He stabbed his spear into the dirt and dug into a bag hanging from his side until he extracted a small vial with pink liquid swirling around inside. "The governor gave me these earlier. I tried to give you one, but it didn't work. Maybe it will now. You should take one," he said, holding it out to her.
Rhiannon looked down at the vial and smiled, pushing his hand aside and stretching up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you," she said sweetly, slipping the vial from his fingers as her heels touched the ground again. She brushed a thumb over the bloody spot at the corner of his mouth and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think we should probably get these guys back to the governor." She looked over her shoulder at Zephyr. "What do you say we dump these three and then go back out for some more shenanigans?"
"I would love more shenanigans," he replied with a grin. "Maybe don't almost die this time though."
"I didn't even almost die," she snapped, uncorking the vial and throwing it back while side-eyeing him. "I'm fine." The sentiment was more true as the potion moved through her, mending all the broken bits along the way. "I assume the muscle can escort the prisoners?" she asked, twisting to look back up at Hale with a flirtatious grin.
"Marrus and I will handle these three as long as you two can keep watch," he said, pulling his spear free and looking back at the other guard.
"Marrus?" Rhiannon said with a blink before laughing and adding, "Oh, I forgot you were here."
Marrus started making his way toward the cultists, jerking one up by the elbow. "Hard to remember anything when you're unconscious, eh?" he grunted, shoving the cultist forward.
Rhiannon pursed her lips. "Marrus, you're making a mistake. The more you act like you hate me, the more I'm going to try to get you to like me. You should probably just start faking it now to save yourself in the long run."
Marrus rolled his eyes as he pulled the second cultist to his feet. "I suppose you'll be wanting to be in charge of that one?" Marrus asked Hale, looking pointedly at the woman. "What since she nearly killed your new lover," he added, shoving the other two further into the tunnel past Zephyr and Rhiannon.
She spied Hale trying to hide his smile. "Yeah, I've got that one," he replied, not indulging Marrus in the fight he was trying to pick. Or that Rhiannon was trying to pick.
Zephyr's lips brushed the shell of her ear again. "Oh, he's the bigger man, too," he whispered, snickering as Rhiannon shoved him.
"In more ways than one, hopefully," she said with an excited shake of her shoulders.
"You two quit whispering and keep watch," Marrus called over his shoulder.
Rhiannon pressed her lips together, unsuccessfully squashing her smile as Hale walked by. He winked as he walked past and she could have melted into a puddle.
"I can't believe you've got two men wrapped around your finger right now and I'm going to have to go hunting when this is all over," Zephyr sighed.
"First of all," she started, walking backwards after Hale to keep watch on the mouth of the cave, "Marrus is decidedly unwrapped at the moment. I'll have to work on that. Maybe Hale is a good sharer."
"And second?" Zeph asked with a raised brow.
"Second, you have never had to hunt a day in your life, you drama queen. Some of us normal-looking people actually do have to put some effort in. You're exotic. If you sit in a tavern tonight, I wager you'll have at least three propositions in the first hour."
"Only three?" he asked, a hand slapping over his heart as his jaw dropped. "Rhiannon, you wound me."
"I'm low-balling for safety purposes."

They walked the length of the tunnel uninterrupted and pulled the cultists back into the cellar with minimal threat to their physical safety. Rhiannon and Zephyr followed Marrus and Hale back into the interior of the keep where they found a secure block and placed them all in separate cells. Marrus stood with his arms crossed and his back against the wall at the far end of the cell block. "Go find the governor," he instructed. "Hale and I will keep watch."
Rhi nodded, pulling Zephyr out of the cell block by the elbow and back out into the yard of the keep. After asking a couple of citizens and a guard or two, they were able to find Governor Nighthill at the top of the parapet, restlessly tapping the index finger of his good hand against the stone wall he was looking over. "Governor Nighthill," Rhiannon said, though she was unsure he heard her. He didn't move or make any acknowledgement of her. "Governor Nighthill," she said again. "We captured three cultists for questioning. One of them seemed to have some level of rank, but I'm not sure of her exact status."
That caught his attention. He straightened and finally pulled his eyes away from whatever he was looking at. "You actually did it?"
"You didn't think we could?" Zephyr questioned, his tone indicating he was actually a little offended by that.
"Yes, we did it. They're in the keep's cell block. Hale and Marrus are guarding them now," Rhiannon responded.
Nighthill seemed to straighten up a little bit at that. "Good. I will see to their interrogation. We'll get some answers about what the hell is going on here."
"Would you like some backup with the interrogations?" Rhiannon asked, glancing up at Zephyr. "We're pretty good at getting people to talk when we want to."
Nighthill managed a chuckle. "I believe you. But I have something else to ask of you." His face fell serious, the lines of age deepening as he looked back out over the city. "The guards have spotted a new threat. Raiders are trying to set fire to the town's mill. If it burns, we'll lose our stockpile of flour and we won't be able to grind more for months." He pulled his good hand through his hair and down his face. "I'm trying to assemble enough defenders from here in the keep to defend it through the rest of the night, but that will take time. You'd do us a great service if you could get to the mill quickly and drive away the raiders before they can set it aflame. You'll only need to defend it until our force arrives to take over–maybe another fifteen minutes time?"
Rhiannon smiled. "Zephyr… Do you think cultists like music?"

"I can't believe you're about to do this," Zephyr said, pressing his fist to his mouth to muffle his cackling as Rhiannon grinned and pulled the cultist mask back over her face. He passed her the fiddle the governor had managed to find on one of the townsfolk inside the keep and she plucked at it softly for a few moments to get it into tune. "There's no way it's going to work."
"But what if it does?" she laughed. "It'll make for one hell of a story."
"You're going to die."
"Well, it was a good run. I leave my room in the brothel to you, I guess. Burn it down if you like."
Zephyr lay on his stomach in the doorway of an abandoned stable with a view of the mill while Rhiannon prepared her instrument. He watched for a long moment as the cultists put their torches against the mill in places that… didn't catch fire easily. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward on his elbows watching as they marched around brandishing the torches. "Hey, Curls," he said, waving a hand back at her. "Something is up. They're faking it. Look."
Rhiannon flopped across his back and set her chin on his head. "What is it?"
"Look at them. They're… It's like they're doing it for attention."
Indeed, they were mostly just waving the torches around, walking back and forth in front of the mill like they were trying to draw the governor's attention.
"You think it's an ambush?" Rhiannon asked, looking down at him.
He looked up at her, bending his neck at an unnatural angle. "I think it's an ambush."
"Who are they ambushing? Surely not the governor? Do you think they're trying to bait the defenses and wipe them out?"
"I'm not sure. But I don't think we should go near the mill…"
"Do you… Hm… Do you think I might lure them away from the mill? Give us an advantage if we're further from their ambush point?"
"Maybe so. If they fire first and ask questions later, I can cover you for an escape."
"Alright then." She sat up and straddled his back, digging into the pouch on her belt and retrieving a flask. "To the adventures of Breezy and Curls," she said, taking a long drink of liquid courage.
Zephyr rolled to his back beneath her and plucked the flask from her hands. "To the Shanty Bard of Waterdeep!" He threw the flask back and drank it dry, tucking it back into her pouch for her. "Now get off me and go do something cool."
She stood up and hopped to the side, picking up the fiddle and checking the tuning one last time. She pulled the mask back onto her face, walked into the middle of the road, and began to sing:

"What will we do with a drunken cultist?
What will we do with a drunken cultist?
What will we do with a drunken cultist?
As the moon is rising!