Hey, rewrite of the Lost de Rolo is finally getting started after a year of saying I was working on it! Yeah! Anyway... this is going to follow more of the streamed campaign than the show, but I'll be merging a few things from the show with it.
And if you want to reread the old chapters I still have them up on tumblr and you can find them here
Now, onto the story!
Ciara was the fourth born of eight children born to the ruling family of Whitestone settled within a northern forest of Tal’Dorei. She was… Of no import, being the fourth child and was mostly settled within her elder siblings’ shadows. Not that it mattered to her, of course, as Ciara was often reminded that she was too brash and loud, and one of the most unladylike people Whitestone had ever seen! But despite the trouble and early grey hairs she undoubtedly caused, Ciara never questioned her place within her family.
Then her parents welcomed a couple from Wildmount within their halls, and death came tearing in after them. Ciara saw her family slaughtered before her, and heard the screams of her siblings echoing in her mind. Unsure how long she was trapped within her walls, used as a source of food and entertainment, she managed to make her escape under the cover of fire and battle.
She ran with no destination in mind, and continued until she darted headfirst into Clorian, the leader of group mercenaries called The Raven’s Hand, who decided to take her under their wing. They taught her their ways of battle and magic as they traversed southern Tal’Dorei before boarding a ship toward the Menagerie coast. Ciara grew under their tutelage, and picked up a few bad habits that got her into some trouble. It got to the point that it was better to leave the eyes of the Clovis Concord and sail west.
They traversed south over the Lucidian Ocean and toward the Ozmit Sea, where they docked in Issylria. From there, Ciara and her friends traversed north through the Vesper Timberlands toward the city Vasselhiem as Clorian said they had business there. However: trouble found them within the trees a mere day and a half from the city gates in the form of a raging, nine-foot tall ogrillon that came barreling out of the trees. They fended off the creature, with Ciara dealing the killing blow, only to find out that another group had been hunting that particular creature. And that group was part of a guild in Vasselheim that wasn’t afraid to hunt them down and kill or imprison her if they did not join the guild to validate the kill.
Emboldened by the presence of those she’d traveled with for years and believing that none of them would go along with what appeared to be an absurd rule, Ciara refused and stated they would have to drag their corpses before their guild, but found herself stunned, as Clorian declared she would go to the guildhall and pay the debt. Ciara had been the one to kill their creature. Why should all of them be held responsible for her actions?
She tried arguing against Clorian, but the one she considered her closest friend had wasted no time in enthralling her with their magic, keeping her quiet and compliant until they entered Vasselhiem and reached the guildhall of the Slayer’s Take.
Clorian left her there without a second glance and the rest of The Raven’s Hand followed, leaving her to face her fate, alone.
I know there hasn't been much in terms of updates regarding the Lost de Rolo, but I reread what I have written, and I don't really like what I have.
As of right now, I don't know if I'm going to go back through and just edit the chapters I have, or just restart from scratch. Still with Ciara, it's just a bit of a different direction as I think I'm going to follow more with the events of the campaign instead of the animated show.
Thanks again for the patience, hopefully there'll be something to show for it soon.
I know there hasn't been much in terms of updates regarding the Lost de Rolo, but I reread what I have written, and I don't really like what I have.
As of right now, I don't know if I'm going to go back through and just edit the chapters I have, or just restart from scratch. Still with Ciara, it's just a bit of a different direction as I think I'm going to follow more with the events of the campaign instead of the animated show.
Thanks again for the patience, hopefully there'll be something to show for it soon.
If everyone’s right and this is Trent Ikithon I’m cackling that he looks THIS bad even 40+ years before the events of Mighty Nein, Critical Role said this man ages like MILK
The Market Ward of Westruun was slowly becoming alive as the shops began to open and the chatter of the morning began to fill the streets.
Small crowds formed in front of stores while people began exiting taverns, either drunkenly stumbling home or leaving for whatever job that'd been found for the day.
And at the end of one of the darkest streets, coming out of a dilapidated tavern known for serving watered-down ale and food that was similar to mush, and having beetles in their beds, was Ciara de Rolo.
Her weathered and thin cloak was tightly pulled around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep the chill that had begun to set across the realm as the first flurry of snow began to fall.
The signs of winter were all around the town as the preparations for Westruun's Winterscrest Festival were underway, but Ciara kept her head down to avoid looking at any decorations that would have been put up.
The last Winterscrest festival she'd celebrated had been before she lost everything.
It used to be a happy time for her, watching the Castle of Whitestone being transformed into a wonderland of celebrations as the surrounding city shared a festive joy.
Vesper had taken an interest in overseeing the festivities during the years before...
Both mother and father praised her for her work while Julius said he was grateful for not being the one in charge of parties as it would never look half as good as what she came up with.
Percy asked millions of questions regarding the construction that went on during the setup and would have to be pulled away multiple times from the head builders who had come to finalize plans with Vesper.
The twins had always rolled their eyes at Percy, teasing him about what he was asking. But Whitney and Oliver always looked with awe at what Vesper was able to accomplish.
Ludwig and Cass were filled with wonder at the way the city transformed. Their excitement built each day preparations were made while they used the progress being made as a calendar to count down the days till Winterscrest.
The excitement was infectious and spread throughout the city as the holiday drew closer, even the year the Briarwoods came.
They had been welcomed warmly along with that fucking doctor by her parents, and they repaid that kindness with murder.
Ciara no longer thought about her siblings' happiness when Winterscrest came around. Her mind instead was filled with Whitney's sobs of terror as she was ripped from their sister's arms by Captain Kerrion Stonefell. The man's laugh rang in Ciara's ears before he slammed Whitney's head against the wall. Her blood dripped down the stonework and stained her light brown hair.
Vesper's screams as Stonefell pulled her by her hair and threw her from the window. Ciara heard the sickening snap of bones as her sister's screams cut off. Stonefell continued to laugh as he dragged Ciara to that same window and forced her to look at Vesper's broken body in the courtyard below.
The laughter of children filtered through her head as a small group rushed past. One of the children fell into her side, unintentionally jerking the metallic right arm that the doctor had melded to her years ago. The rods and screws tugged at her skin which sent a sharp twinge of pain through the remains of the limb as she grimaced.
While attempting to blink away the image of her sister's broken body, Ciara sent a glare to the kids who ran off without looking back.
A part of her, the old part of her that belonged to a young girl who had sat through hours of etiquette lessons with her siblings, the old part that was caged away in the back of her mind in a darkened room, wanted to scold the children for not looking where they were going. That it wasn't polite and they should apologize.
But the main part of Ciara, the part that had been fed on, tortured, ripped apart, and sewn back together with jagged stitches that left horrific scars, only glared as the kids scampered away.
Ciara continued weaving through the growing crowds, not lifting her head as vendors began calling out for customers as their stalls went up. She heard all the sales pitches before, and it wasn't like she could afford the wares anyway. Ciara was ready to walk past and ignore the merchants until she caught a conversation that her freezing in her tracks,
"-a shop in Whitestone at some point. The tyrants who'd forcefully taken control five years ago are gone and, thankfully, dead. The city is now rebuilding and in need of new economics in the market," The de Rolo felt herself turn toward the voice and saw the person who'd caught her attention.
The voice belonged to a man with dark skin, hair in a half-ponytail with two short braids framing the side of his face, a braided goatee, purple robes with gold trim, gold jewelry, and a red sash around his waist to complete the look.
He was standing in front of a building that looked to be in the middle of renovations with four other merchants. Two humans, a halfling, and an elf. Ciara recognized them as members of the Westruun Merchant Guild. She'd stolen a thing or two from the halfling and spied on the elf.
His sister was a cartographer who had married a diplomat in Syngorn. He only kept in touch with her and his niece. From what Ciara had found, he didn't have much love for his brother-in-law and rarely spoke to him. Which meant the Clasp no longer wanted anything to do with him.
The merchants were listening intently to the purple-clad man as he spoke about bringing business to Whitestone during and after the city was restored.
But what made Ciara turn cold with shock was when she heard the goateed man say,
"A council has been made, with a de Rolo at the head to rule Whitestone once again,"
A de Rolo? That couldn't be possible.
The de Rolo's were all dead.
Ciara knew they were dead.
She'd seen them, her parents, Julius, Vesper, Oliver, Whitney, and Ludwig.
She never saw Percy or Cass alive after that dinner, but she heard them. The Briarwoods made sure she heard them scream.
Ciara heard her remaining family as she sat frozen in the cell The Briarwoods had shoved her in. Bound under a Hold Person Spell she was forced to listen as Ripley tortured Percy and Cass.
She heard them.
Ciara heard Percy weakly insisting he didn't know what was below Whitestone before his voice became desperate as Ripley began cutting into their sister.
When the screaming stopped and Ciara was dragged away, Ripley would visit. The doctor would show her the hooks and tools that had been embedded in her siblings' mere minutes ago. Ciara was forced to listen as Ripley described how she tortured Percy and Cass before going on to say Ciara could stop it.
She just needed to tell Ripley about what was under Whitestone.
But Ciara hadn't, and still didn't, know what the woman was talking about.
And the screaming continued.
Ciara had each of their screams etched into her mind that she heard it everywhere. Even after she'd been taken from the dungeons.
And then, the screaming stopped. She was no longer tossed into a cell to listen as Ripley tortured her siblings. And because of that, a venomous hope leached into her mind, because despite all that she had witnessed, Ciara was naive enough to think that Percy and Cass had somehow escaped.
Until-
Until-
Anger bubbled to the surface as Ciara found herself standing in front of the goateed man with words that were spat with rage and vitriol flying from her mouth,
"Enough! Enough of these lies! The de Rolos are dead! All of them are dead!"
The goateed man looked momentarily taken aback at Ciara rushing into his space, but he composed himself while leaning against the wall behind him. His arms crossed in front of his chest which made the bangles clink together,
"I can assure you, I speak no lies-"
"And I can assure you, you are!" Ciara hissed, but the man seemed nonplussed at her anger and merely raised a perfectly trimmed brow,
"You are quite confident that I am lying,"
"Because I know you are! Seven of them were killed in one night by the Briarwoods! And the two who were left alive were tortured and killed a year later!" Her voice was tapering out into a harsh whisper, "The only de Rolos left in Whitestone are the ones in the crypts!"
The man, despite the other merchants quickly making their exit, only began inspecting his nails before meeting her gaze,
"I admit, I've never been told the details about what happened. My friend was present for the events, and understandably, Percival hasn't wanted to explain how his family was murdered in front of him,"
Her whole body began to shake as her hands clenched,
"Percival is dead! I don't know who you've been talking to, who's been claiming to be him, who is using his name to rule, but Percival died years ago!"
Once again, as Ciara's anger rolled from her in waves, the man didn't seem bothered and continued inspecting his nails. But Ciara hadn't noticed how his gaze hardened as he began taking in the details of her.
Gilmore was beginning to put the similarities between the woman in front of him, and the gunslinger that followed Vax'ildan's sister around, carefully putting pieces of the puzzle together as he said,
"It is not Percival who rules Whitestone but his sister Cassandra," He tilted his head and gauged her reaction.
The fire that had been raging inside Ciara turned to ice as the tremors racing through her tripled in strength while she felt her eyes begin to burn,
"Then whoever rules Whitestone is an imposter!" She hissed, "Both Percival and Cassandra de Rolo died! They were flayed and murdered!"
Her voice was shattered as her legs shook harshly and it was a wonder that Ciara was able to stay upright as her mind filled with the bodies of her siblings.
Of Percy and Cass who had been flayed by the doctor's hooks until they died and then thrown out into the courtyard in front of Ciara. Ripley had lit the torch and Sylas Briarwood had thrown it onto what remained of her siblings.
Ciara had screamed. Screamed loud enough that she was certain her voice had reached beyond the Timberlands as what remained of her family became nothing more than charred bones. And when the fire had gone out, Delilah Briarwood had cast a magical flame that turned their remains to ash that blew away in the wind.
A hand was now on her shoulder and pulling her up.
Ciara had collapsed to her knees without realizing and the merchant was now leading her inside the renovated building behind them.
The interior was plain with empty shelves and display cases, a few rugs rolled up and crates stacked against the wall.
When the door shut behind them, the man snapped his fingers, and a table and two chairs appeared before the two.
The young woman found herself now sitting across from the merchant who was staring at her with a critical gaze,
"Well," He began after a moment of studying her, "I suppose introductions are in order before questions are asked. I'm Gilmore, owner of Gilmore's Glorious Goods in Emon and of this soon-to-be-open store here in Westruun,"
The merchant, Gilmore, waved his hand in a flamboyant fashion that had small sparks falling from his fingers which made Ciara flinch back.
Gilmore then looked at Ciara as the sparks quickly dissipated and gestured toward her with an open palm and expectant look until she answered,
"People call me Bird,"
"I imagine due to your corvid friends there,"
She didn't need to look to know that Adrik and Nyx were peering in through the window. They were like two small shadows that followed her everywhere, no matter how many times she refused to acknowledge them,
"Suppose so,"
Gilmore hummed while resting his chin against his hand, "If I were to ask for your real name, I assume you would not give it,"
The tension that had slowly been ebbing away returned tenfold as Ciara leaned as far away from the man as possible,
"If I were to say you were right?"
The merchant shrugged while leaning back in his chair, "Names have power. From the gods and fiends to the most ordinary of folk, a name can have a hold on someone. Whether to bind or summon a being of power, or simply be a shield for someone hiding,"
She should leave. Ciara needed to leave. She had a job that was given a deadline of two days, and she knew better than to slack off or be late. And this Gilmore was prying into open wounds that had festered and rotted over the years,
"What you're implying," Her voice was shaking, "Is wrong. It- It's all wrong!"
"Are you certain? Earlier you counted nine de Rolo's. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't there ten in Whitestone? The lord and lady with their eight children? Why have you only counted seven children?"
Her trembling hand found purchase on the short sword that hung at her hip as she whispered, "The eighth died. She died when her brother and sister's bodies were burned in front of her,"
Gilmore's eyes were trained on her with a look of sadness as he leaned forward,
"Then I'll speak to the ghost sitting across from me. And I'll tell her that her brother, Percival, is coming to Westruun-"
He was cut off by Ciara shoving away from the table, causing the chair she'd been sitting on to clatter to the ground,
"No-he-He's dead! He's-" She darted out of the store without finishing.
The ravens that had been sitting at the window croaked and squawked in alarm when the door slammed open and Ciara stumbled out into the street.
She couldn't see the people around her, she couldn't see where she was going.
There were some shouts as she ran into things, but Ciara kept running until she skidded to a stop and fell to her knees in an alley.
A burning, acrid taste came hurtling up her throat and onto the ground in front of her as she only thought of the last two bodies. Of Cassandra and Percy.
The exposed muscle and bone had been barely covered by the remains of their formal wear. The remains of what they had been wearing to that fucking dinner!
They were dead. They were dead!
They couldn't be alive because that would mean she would have-
More bile worked its way up Ciara's throat as her vision blurred.
When the meager contents of her stomach had all been expelled from her body, Ciara coughed and gagged while wiping at her mouth. She managed to push herself up and saw someone standing to her right with a waterskin held out.
Ciara saw who had found her and took the skin, swishing the water around her mouth before spitting it out as the Spireling made himself comfortable on a few crates,
"You're taking a late start, Bird. Not like you," The halfling rasped.
She sat against the wall and tossed the waterskin back, "Got distracted. Nothing to worry about, Fetch. I'm going to leave now,"
"What did that man want?" The halfling questioned, "The merchant. He's new in Westruun,"
"No one,"
"Really? No one?"
"No one to me,"
Fetch scoffed and leaned toward her, "And despite that, one of your ravens stayed behind at his shop,"
She jerked her gaze toward the sky and only saw one raven settled on the roof across from her. Nyx's beady eyes met hers before darting to Fetch. If a raven could glare, Ciara was certain that Nyx would be. But Fetch was correct, Adrik was nowhere to be seen,
"I don't control where they go-"
"But they've been following you since you arrived in Westruun. And suddenly, one of them leaves your side? What. Did. He. Want?"
Ciara shook her head, "Nothing of consequence-"
"You expect me to believe that?" He leaned forward, "Are you trying to fly away, Bird?"
She unflinchingly met his gaze, "I'm not that stupid, Fetch. I learned my lesson from last time,"
Fetch only continued to eye her for a very long moment before standing,
"You better get going, Bird. You've already lost too much time,"
He disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving Ciara to shakily return to her feet.
With a shaky breath, she glanced up at Nyx who was hopping along the roof and ruffling her feathers, then began making her way toward the Western Gate.
Obligatory Trinket POV.
Pre-stream events are referenced here.
TW: Blood, body modification, mentioned death
Trinket was not in his armor for once.
The bear had grown accustomed to the weight of it, so it felt a bit weird as he ambled around without it.
His Vex was currently in the food room with Keyleth and Scanlan as they went through the sticks and bottles they'd traded shiny things for. Grog was with them, not paying attention as he focused on his sharp thing, scrapping a rock across the edge to make it more sharp.
It was a new sharp thing, one that was dark with a red shiny thing on the not-sharp end and didn't exactly smell right. The bear preferred Grog's other sharp thing to this one.
Trinket eyed the dark sharp before huffing as he flopped onto the stone floor at His Vex's feet, tapping his claws against it in boredom.
His Vex smiled and offered a quick head scritch before giving her attention back to Keyleth while Scanla said something that had His Vex glaring.
Trinket didn't care about what they were talking about. He just wanted to go with them this time.
He'd been left behind after those... Not good things had attacked.
Trinket didn't know what they were, but they were bad. They had hurt Vax, then sent other not-good things to hurt his friends! Trinket hadn't been able to protect his friends either time and then His Vex told him to stay behind.
He hoped that despite not protecting them last time, he could follow them on their next adventure.
Like the last time, it had something to do with Percy's family. A missing piece of it.
Trinket wanted to help Percy find this missing piece, he knew what it was like to miss family and didn't want Percy to feel that again.
But his armor was gone, taken off of him.
It seemed like he would be left behind again.
Keyleth and Vax could want to braid his fur and make him look pretty again, (He didn't like it, but it had made them happy. Trinket would sit through it again if it made Vax and Keyleth happy.) But, it looked like he wouldn't be coming with them. Again.
A sad huff left the bear and he shoved his head into Vex's lap.
He didn't want to be left behind.
The front door opened and shut as two sets of footsteps came down the hall and into the room.
Trinket recognized the sweet, warm smell that came with Pike and the smokey-powdery scent that came from Percy.
Percy used to smell like something was constantly burning, but he didn't anymore. Trinket was glad that he didn't smell like burning. That smell was something, bad. But it was gone, and that made His Vex happy.
Percy made His Vex happy.
Just like how Keyleth made Vax happy. Or, used to.
Keyleth still made Vax happy, just not like she used to. He seemed sad when he looked at Keyleth now.
A few days after they came back, Scanlan said Vax and Keyleth were having a long talk. Pike had smacked Scanlan across the back of his head and said it wasn't that kind of talk. Trinket didn't understand what they meant. Their language, though being the same as His Vex's, was weird,
"Where's Vax?" His Vex asked, making the bear lift his head to see that Vax hadn't returned.
Pike scratched his ears as she walked past to sit beside Grog who set his big sharp aside,
"He was still talking to Father Tristan when we left,"
"Whatever for?"
Pike shrugged at His Vex as Percy fell into the empty seat next to Trinket.
Percy was drawn tight up on the chair with fingers tugging at his short hair. Trinket knew from experience that it was painful and shuffled over to plop his head in Percy's lap.
The human didn't even question it and dropped one of his hands to Trinket's head. He didn't give any scritches though, which made Trinket huff,
"But did it go good at the temple?" Grog asked, which made everyone turn to Percy who sighed while removing the circles on his face,
"It did work, Grog," Trinket saw a slight smile on Percy's face, "I saw her. My sister's alive,"
"Well dat's great!" Grog exclaimed while clapping, "When we leavin'?"
"And, uh, where are we going? Exactly?" Keyleth asked,
His head was still under the table so he couldn't see her,
"I know. It's... closer than I ever thought she would be..."
"However," Pike's voice cut across Percy's quiet talking, "We should talk about Vax's reaction,"
There was a very long pause that made Trinket wonder if something had happened. He shuffled until his head was no longer on Percy's lap and plunked it onto the table.
Nothing had happened, but everyone was looking at Pike who appeared worried,
"What do you mean Vax's reaction?" His Vex questioned while gently rubbing his ears,
"I don't know. He just... Didn't seem happy? About where Ciara was,"
Percy spoke up after Pike, the hand with the stone rubbing the ear His Vex wasn't touching,
"Vax recognized the building she walked into quickly. Almost immediately, in fact," Trinket's ears twitched at the soft footsteps that came into the kitchen, "I'm certain he knows where Ciara is,"
"You would be right about that, Freddie," Everyone turned to see Vax leaning against the wall.
Trinket didn't like the look on Vax's face. It didn't look okay, it looked sad and angry.
Trinket didn't like when Vax, or any of his friends, were sad or angry. That meant something was wrong,
"Where was she, Vax?" His Vex asked.
Vax's eyes darted around the room before looking at the floor. Trinket looked too, but there wasn't anything at Vax's feet,
"Entering the Clasp's tavern,"
A low growl escaped Trinket as the rest of the room went silent.
He remembered that word.
Clasp.
Trinket didn't know what a clasp was, but he knew it was full of people who had hurt Vax and Pike a while ago, forcing them to fight some kind of monster after kidnapping them. They had killed someone important to the clasp thing, and surprisingly, it had been Scanlan who had gotten them out of that situation.
Trinket still doesn't fully believe that Shorty was able to do that by himself. He most likely had help that Trinket didn't see.
But that clasp thing was back and Trinket didn't want any more of his friends being put in danger because of that clasp and Grog was agreeing with him,
"T'ose asses!" He growled while reaching for the dark sharp, "We got t'deal wit' them again?"
Pike sighed while leaning against the big man, "Looks like it Buddies," She glanced at Vax who was rubbing the back of his neck, "Last time, you mentioned that you were a member,"
"Yeah, I did. And that didn't go so well. But, we were dealing with the Emon chapter. I was, for lack of a better term, initiated into the Westruun chapter,"
"And, even though that sounds great, amazing, and something that could totally help us, I have the feeling you're about to tell us something not good," Scanlan piped up as he crossed his arms on the table as Vax sighed.
Vax tugged at his hair before shaking his head and saying,
"The only reason I joined was because I discovered that someone had contracted the Clasp..." Vax stopped talking before looking at Vex.
Trinket recognized that look, it meant His Vex wouldn't like what came next,
"Someone had made a contract to have a member of the Clasp, bring him my sister. l managed to make a deal with one of the Spirelings-"
"What kind of deal?" His Vex's voice was tense as she stood up to look Vax in the eye, "What kind of deal did you make with the Spireling?"
Trinket could tell this topic made His Vex nervous, and with the way Percy's fingers briefly tugged on his ear, Trinket knew he was uneasy too.
And when Vax didn't answer right away, Trinket grew nervous too.
Vex may be Trinket's person, but he'd known Vax since he'd been a cub! Trinket didn't want Vax to be taken away by some kind of deal! From what the others have said about their time away, that had almost happened to Percy!
Trinket wasn't going to let some, deal, thing, take Vax away!
"In a way, I had to complete the contract. They wanted me to bring them a body, and I brought them a body. They brought out a stick made out of tongues, and used it to turn the person I brought, into you," Vax sighed and kept looking toward the ground.
Trinket still didn't know why the floor was fascinating to Vax,
"And, they branded me afterward. The Spirelings had me swear loyalty to the Clasp. So, if they ever called upon me, I would have to answer,"
Vex's hands were clenched around the edge of the table and her fingers were turning white. Trinket worried he would hear something snap if she didn't let go so he lathered a slobbery lick to her fingers.
It did the trick as her hand found its way to Trinket's head and settled against his fur. But, the bear could feel the tension of his human from the stiff way she stroked his ears,
"Have they ever called on you?" Trinket didn't like how tense His Vex's voice was.
Vax shook his head, "No. Never,"
"But that doesn't mean they won't-" Trinket felt Percy's hand grab Vex's atop his head and her voice cut off with a sharp, angry breath before she slowly sat back down.
Trinket shifted his head to look at His Vex.
She was still angrily looking at Vax while her mouth had pressed into a thin line. The bear knew Vax was in for a long and loud yelling at some later point.
Keyleth carefully twisted her stick between her fingers while nervously looking between the twins,
"Could the, membership, help? I mean, I know it didn't help last time, but, you said that you were a part of the Westruun Chapter, and, we are going to Westrunn, so, could that be in our favor?"
Vax shook his head, "I don't think it does, Kiki. I'm not in any position to ask for any favors,"
"Also, and this is just a thought, the person who paid to have Vex kidnapped might want to try again if he sees her in Westruun," Trinket growled lowly as Scanlan talked.
If that bastard so much as looked at His Vex, Trinket would bite his head off! He would rip him apart and crush his bones into splinters!
"Scanlan, for once, has a point," Percy said as Scanlan let out some kind of protest about always being on point,
"Then we kill 'im!" Grog exclaimed, still holding onto the dark sharp that made Trinket uneasy,
"I was never told who he was, Grog," Vax said,
"Then how did you know about this contract to kidnap me?" Vex's voice was still tight with anger and not even Trinket nuzzling her side was able to calm her,
"I politely asked the man why he was following you,"
"An' he jus' told you what he was doin'?" Grog asked, finally putting the bad sharp thing back down, unknowingly allowing Trinket to marginally relax against Vex.
The bad sharp was still there, but out of Grog's hands,
"The main problem will be what happens if they try to open the contract again," Added Pike which made Percy ask,
"If that is a possibility, then maybe-"
"Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, if the next words out of your mouth are that I should stay behind I swear!"
Trinket watched the unfolding argument with disinterest. He would like it if His Vex stayed behind with him. It wouldn't be as lonely as last time.
But, he knew that Percy meant a lot to His Vex and she would want to help him find the missing piece. Which meant that if she were forced to stay with Trinket, she would be unhappy. Trinket didn't want His Vex to be unhappy, but he also wanted His Vex to be safe.
The shouting continued around Trinket, but he only pressed further into Vex until she shot up from her seat and proclaimed,
"I am not staying behind! And the next person who suggests that will find themselves hogtied in the dungeon! Now get your shit ready!"
In the silence that followed, Vex grabbed the sticks and two bottles off the table and stomped out of the room.
Vax sighed while pushing off the wall, "Well, you heard her,"
Vox Machina began packing their things so they would be ready to leave early the next morning, but Trinket stayed in his place at the table.
No one said anything about Trinket going with them. It looked like he would be left behind again.
He huffed in despair and lay on the ground, sad that he wouldn't be able to help until His Vex called out from further in the Keep,
"Trinket, come here. Your new armor's arrived! We have to make sure it fits before we leave!"
The bear shot up from his place on the floor and began running to where he had heard His Vex, almost trampling Scanlan in the process, but he was too excited!
He was going with them!
They flew over Westruun, their Matron watching through their eyes as they followed their Girl.
They had been watching her since she was a child in Whitestone, climbing trees in the gardens to hide from the adults, running and playing with the other children when she wished to join them in their games.
They'd always watched over her, until those things came.
Those things hid her from their Matron's sight for three years.
They could not find a way to see her, even their Matron could not find her inside that castle. But they watched as Whitestone became a dark place from the roof of their Matron's temple.
The ravens watched as the people fell into despair as the sun hid from the sky while dark magic leaked from the castle.
Years passed, they felt the darkness spread and their Matron's sight on Whitestone weakened. The dark magic in the land was suffocating, but the ravens stayed. No matter how many of them fell to the darkness, they stayed.
What had started as seven, dwindled down to two when they once again caught sight of their charge.
She was different.
Her hair was no longer dark but a shock of startling white that looked paler than the Matron's mask. Dark blood stubbornly clung to the changed hair despite the pouring rain, and her right arm hung uselessly at her side.
That was another change, the arm.
What had once been flesh and blood was now dark and metallic. Gears replaced joints and rods were speared into whatever remained of her shoulder.
Their Girl was in pain and scared.
She's been in pain since they followed her into the woods and out of Whitestone.
They did what they could for her.
They brought small animals they hunted, knocked fruits and nuts from trees, and stole what they could from small parties of humans they came across. She took what they brought her without question.
She began to teach herself how to steal, and they would distract her targets when they could. But she soon became proficient enough to not have to rely on their help. Their Girl began stealing coins from pouches and food from stalls and tables.
They watched her teach herself how to wield weapons with her left hand.
They watched her learn the new movements of the metal arm.
They listened when she began calling them Adrik and Nyx.
They watched her discover the city of Westruun, and the temple dedicated to their Matron.
They watched her enter and peered through the windows as she hesitantly began to pray after placing nine coins on the altar.
They watched their Girl find solace with their Matron who rejoiced that one of her own was reaching out.
They watched over her, but they could do nothing when she was grasped by the Spireling.
They could only watch as what little spirit she regained was crushed by the Clasp.
They could hear their Matron weep when their girl fell back into a darkness that clouded her mind.
She stopped seeking solace with the Matron and began ignoring the ravens who had watched over her for years.
They asked their Matron to intervene, but she would always say it was not time, her voice full of sorrow.
But today had been different.
Their Matron told them the Other was coming.
They didn't know much about the Other. Only that his gold thread was entangled with their Girl's and that their Matron's eyes had been on him since he'd encountered those things that had taken their Girl's light.
The ravens knew he was coming, and that one of them would have to lead him to their Girl.
But he wasn't here yet, and until he was there, they would both stay with their Girl.
This sounds fake but the logic behind it is actually really interesting? She said obsession with a new fandom triggers quick dopamine release when we consume all this related content--it's easy and addictive.
What we're NOT getting is that 'slow dopamine' that's more sustainable and engaging. That's the kind we get from DOING things that take effort but are ultimately rewarding.
So like, she suggested that writing fic and making fanart are ways to balance the quick dopamine of watching a show/reading fic with the slow dopamine of working at something that takes effort.
Moral of the story is you should engage in the process of creation around your favorite things. You'll feel better for it.
After that morning's revelations and decisions, Vox Machina began preparing for their next journey.
Grog, Scanlan, Vex, and Trinket had all gone to the shopping district of Emon to stock up on healing potions, weapons, and whatever else they thought they would need before setting off. But what surprised everyone, was when Vax had declined to go with them.
They may tease him about the flirting between himself and Gilmore, but there was a genuine friendship between the rogue and sorcerer.
So, it felt a bit worrying that Vax was not jumping at the chance to see Gilmore and only gave a half-hearted reason to go to the temple.
Vex had eyed her brother, giving him a look that said 'We will talk about this later,'
Vax responded with one of his own that told her, 'I know,' as he trailed after Percy and Pike.
The three of them walked in silence, Pike's armor being the main sound as they made their way toward the Temple.
The rogue hung back at the end of their little train, his feet feeling like lead as they drew closer to the temple.
He was happy that Percy would get answers for his sister, Vax truly was. What worried the half-elf was the question he needed to ask, and the answer he may receive.
When they entered the temple, there were the usual groups of worshippers praying to Sarenrae and speaking with the clerics mingling around.
Pike weaved her way through the worshippers, stopping before the familiar elderly man dressed in the robes of Sarenrae and thinning hair on the top of his head,
"Father Tristan,"
"Pike Trickfoot. We welcome you and your friends here," The man said while giving the gnome a slight nod,
"Thank you, Father. We need your assistance on a private matter,"
Father Tristan looked between Pike and the two behind her, his eyes squinting a bit at Vax and Percy before nodding and leading them away from the main hall of the temple.
When they were separated from the rest of the groups, Father Tristan asked what they needed,
"I'm sure you've heard of the latest escapade that we went on," Percy said to which the cleric nodded,
"Yes. The tale has spread about your victory against those unholy creatures that subsequently freed our Sovereign and an entire city from their control," He said, "Many have come to pray for those recently freed. For the Everlight to assist Lady Cassandra as she leads your people through the rebuilding of Whitestone, My Lord,"
At first glance, it would seem like hearing himself being referred to as 'Lord' had little effect on Percy. But both Pike and Vax saw him make a small, jerking flinch that went unnoticed by those around them.
Percy managed to clear his throat,
"I... thank you, Father. I will be sure to inform my sister of the support we have here with the Everlight's followers," He straightened his shoulders and began their business as to why they had come.
The older Cleric listened to why they were seeking his help, a frown forming as Percy came to the end of their tale,
"We are aware that the source we got the information from is possibly the most unreliable out there," Vax said,
"That is true," Replied the Cleric, "Though, I can understand the need for truth in this matter,"
Father Tristan went silent for a long moment, deep in visible thought as he pondered the situation before saying, "I shall do what I can to assist you, My Lord. But, am I correct in assuming you have nothing that connects to your sister? No objects or clothing that would have belonged to her?"
Percy shook his head, "No. Everything that belonged to my family was destroyed years ago,"
"I see," Father Tristan hummed, "That will make scrying difficult,"
"But not impossible?" Questioned Pike, a hopeful tone lighting her voice,
"No. Not impossible," He replied.
Father Tristan continued his conversation with Pike and Percy, but Vax had distanced himself from the trio.
The rogue found himself standing before the main altar of Sarenrae and stared up at the image of the Everlight.
He was never one for prayer, especially since he and Vex'ahlia had returned to Byroden and were told that their mother had been killed. But recently... Vax has been unsure as to where to turn for answers.
Ever since the feast, since Sylas Briarwood had used him as a blood bag, Vax had been having...
Dreams? Visions?
It always happened when he was asleep, but they never felt like dreams.
Vax, when he went to sleep, would fall. However, it wasn't like falling from a cliff. It was more like... Sinking into a pit of honey.
But instead of honey, it was soft feathers that gently lowered him toward into a dark, endless void that was filled with shadows. Shadows that were illuminated by streaks of gold that flew illuminated the darkness.
There would be a gold streak circling around him, weaving up from the ground before becoming level with his chest and branching out in two directions.
The first found its way around a group of people Vax recognized easily as Vox Machina, illuminating their faces with its gold light while a small section branched off to circle tightly around Vex'ahlia.
Vax would always try to walk towards his friends, but the second streak would always pull him back, tugging him further into the darkness until his friends, his family, were no more than a small, golden light in the distance.
He would then be faced with who was on the other end, but could never make out who it was.
This figure would be clouded in a black energy with an electric purple hue that reminded Vax of Delilah Briarwoods' magic.
Vax would stare at the figure, unable to make out anything other than emerald green eyes that peered at the half-elf through the magic surrounding them.
The rogue would try to catch a glimpse of the face behind the haze, but his concentration would be broken by the croaking call of ravens as a pale, masked face loomed over the both of them.
Vax would jolt awake in a cold sweat after meeting the dark holes of the mask were eyes were supposed to reside.
He'd been unable to make sense of, whatever these things were. But, Vax needed to be sure this was nothing in relation to the Briarwoods.
Delilah Briarwoods had been a damned necromancer, it didn't seem beyond the realm of reason for her to be able to reach out to the living. And if she were trying to make some kind of connection with the living world through Vax, the half-elf needed to find out how to severe it before she succeeded,
"Hey, Stringbean?" Vax tore his gaze off of the Everlights image and looked down at Pike who returned his gaze with worry, "You okay?"
He glanced back up at the altar before responding,
"Yeah, Pickle, I'm okay. Just thinking things over,"
His friend looked unconvinced, but temporarily dropped the subject and pointed to where Father Tristan and Percy stood,
"If you're sure. We're ready to start,"
The room Father Tristan led them to was dimly lit with candles as a bowl of what Vax assumed was Holy Water sat on a small table.
The older Cleric stood at one side of the table while the members of Vox Machina stood at the other,
"This may take a moment," He murmured while focusing on the water, "And as I said before, Lord de Rolo, this may not work,"
"I understand,"
Vax could see Percy's fists clench at his sides.
Father Tristan began speaking down toward the Holy Water, casting a spell that made it glow as the surface shimmered.
There was a blurred image shown that began to fade as soon as it appeared, prompting the Cleric to renew his spell with vigor. His eyes scrunched in concentration as Percy grasped the edges of the table with shaking hands.
Pike rested her hand against Percy's, and the Lord glanced down at her. The gnome offered an encouraging smile then turned toward the water, prompting Percy to the same as Vax came to stand beside them.
The water's surface was still blurred, but it slowly began to clear after a few excruciating minutes to show them the image of a young woman with striking white hair that was pulled back into a loose braid,
"Is that her, Percy?"
Percy didn't answer Pike as his gaze was fixated on the image before them.
Vax stared at the image from over his friend's shoulder, studying what was shown in the water.
The woman was walking down a crowded street that looked familiar to Vax.
He'd walked that street before, looking for the people who were after his sister.
Vax had followed a dwarf with a staff made of tongues into that building.
Vax had walked down that street, away from that building with a threat looming over his head, while the new brand on his back burned under his cloak.
The group watched the image in the water as the woman, whom Vax assumed was Percy's sister, entered a tavern that the rogue recognized.
But as Ciara stepped inside, the image flickered and blurred before fading completely, showing only their reflections in the water,
"No! No!" Percy's head shot up and his eyes landed on Father Tristan, "Bring it back! The image! That was her! Bring it back!"
The Cleric shook his head with a weary sigh, "There is something blocking my sight, My Lord. I'm afraid that I am unable to-"
"Try! Please just-"
"Percy!" Pike was now between Percy and the table. The gnome grasped his hands tightly as she said,
"Percy, for an image to be disrupted like that- Something had to have disrupted it,"
"But we didn't see anything, Pike!" He exclaimed, "We only saw her walk into a damned building! And we don't even know what or where that is!"
"I know where that is," Everyone turned toward Vax who had slunk back into the shadows of the room, "I know that place,"
Percy reached Vax in two steps and grasped the rogue's arms, "Where is she, Vax?"
The half-elf remained silent for a long time before carefully peeling Percy's fingers from his arms,
"Westruun,"
"Westruun? Are you sure?" Pike questioned, "I don't recognize where-"
"Pike," The serious tone of his voice had her cutting off, "I know that area. It's in Westruun,"
Percy stepped away from Vax, his shoulders dropping in relief, "Westruun is only a day's journey from here. Ciara is closer than I could have ever imagined,"
"There is a darkness about her, My Lord. Even through the scrying I could see it," Father Tristan added, "I'm unable to discern what caused it, but don't imagine your sister has had a good life,"
The members of Vox Machina all tensed as each of them remembered a smoking demon made of shadows that had made itself known underneath the Castle of Whitestone.
A harsh sigh left Percy as he began pacing the room while violently tugging at his hair,
"But she is alive! And we know where she is!" He whipped his gaze toward the older cleric, "And right now, that's all that matters to me!"
With those last words, Percy stormed out of the room, the door slamming against the wall as he left.
Pike sighed while gently clasping her symbol of Sarenrae before apologizing to Father Tristan,
"We do appreciate the help, Father, truly," The Cleric waved his hand in a slight dismissal,
"I can understand his frustration, Pike Trickfoot. Though I do not appreciate it being thrown at me,"
Pike apologized a second time and made to leave the room, but stopped when she saw that Vax hadn't moved,
"You go on a head, Pickle," He said, flashing her a tight smile, "I'll catch up,"
Worry was still visible on her face as she nodded and exited, leaving Vax and Father Tristan.
The Cleric tilted his head, "Is there more assistance required of me?"
Vax sighed, pushing off of the wall to stand more in the center of the room,
"Yes. I am, worried that the Briarwoods have, left some kind of mark, or, connection to me," He said, then began explaining the dreams, or visions, he'd been having.
Father Tristan listened carefully to what Vax told him and thought for a long while before agreeing to check for any dark arcane energy that maybe clinging to him.
He placed his hands on either side of Vax's head and murmured a few words as the symbol around his neck began to glow.
A divine energy began to pulse through Vax and he felt a warmth fall over him. It wasn't invasive like Sylas' charms had been, but it was more like a friend welcoming him home, a secure embrace that made him feel safe. But, despite the warm feeling, it still felt uncomfortable having someone else in his head so soon after the Briarwoods.
It lasted about five minutes, then Father Tristan let his hands fall to his side as Vax released a breath he had been unconsciously holding.
He blinked a few times and looked at the Cleric, fearing the worst as Tristan began to speak,
"I can say with absolute certainty that there is no dark magic left by those unholy creatures," The weight on Vax's shoulders immediately lifted.
But it came back crashing down on him with Father Tristan's next words,
"There is, however, someone watching you," Vax stiffened, "But there is no darkness within this gaze. I cannot say who, but there gaze is, divine, in nature,"
Feeling more confused and uneasy than before, Vax questioned,
"Why would something like that be watching me?"
"I cannot answer that, Vax'ildan. I have a feeling, that the answer will be one you must decipher for yourself,"
---
The small tavern was quiet when Ciara de Rolo entered. But what surprised her was the fact that it was empty. Even though it was about midday, there would be some signs of life roaming about.
But at first glance, it seemed like Ciara was the only one there.
However, there was a man sitting in a darkened corner, the red glass of his monocle glinting at her through the low light,
"You were almost late," He tsked, "You know how dangerous it can be, to be late,"
Ciara said nothing as Spireling Shenn stood and began making his way toward her.
The man towered over Ciara as he stepped directly before her,
"Oh, why so quiet? I do love our chats,"
She dared not move and carefully forced out,
"You called me. That means you have a job,"
Shenn's face twisted into a smile, "Down to business as usual, Little Bird. Very well, very well,"
The Spireling straightened up and motioned for her toward the table,
"Sit. Have a drink and we'll discuss what I need from you,"
Ciara pursed her lips, closed her eyes, counted to ten, then sat across from the Spireling and braced herself for the long, drawn out meeting she would be forced to sit through.
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