It has come to my attention I don’t seem to have posted Jazielettan, or at least I couldn’t find it. So here are the adventures of Stieletta, Jaze and Anethir while the rest of the party were burning an inn and stumbling exhaustedly towards the forest.
elyvorg replied to your post “thechavanator: Wynn would like the party to STOP MURDERING EACH OTHER...”
so like, how much of this is dave's fault
It’s not this time! Flavia got possessed by the Cloak of Who the Fuck Knows, An fought her off and probably stole the cloak, Flavia was healed only to immediately try to attack An for taking the cloak. Dave’s just there like “An I know you took the fucking cloak also what do you mean Flavia was possessed and not just being ridiculous like that time she thought Khyta was a kind of pasta”
An has some Fun plans for Dave and I am already cackling even though it’s not going to happen until in-game tomorrow night which is probably happening in like. June at the earliest.
This took longer than I expected, since I actually somehow managed to get myself to be slightly more sensible with my time. But not anymore!
As they close in on the city of Kendall, one of the merchants asks what they're planning to do with their time in the city. Dave says he's going to the library - to find out what the tracks were. He's not sure if Khyta actually means to investigate the tracks, or if she named that only as an excuse for him to go to the library. He supposes he'll find out when he gets there.
After a pause, he adds, "Maybe I'll visit the spellcasters' guild. I know someone."
It's evening when they arrive in the city. The guard points them to an inn called the Serpent's Wheel. Dave's amused to find the waitstaff at the bar are Unseen Servants; he's heard the guild is all about 'community service' and imagines they had a hand in this. He considers getting a drink at the bar, but then his traveling companions somehow start a fight over some salad, and he retreats to his room instead.
"Who is this someone you plan to see at the guild?" Khyta asks as he lies awake in his bed. She sounds a little wary.
"None of your fucking business," he mutters.
Khyta pauses. "An old lover, perhaps?"
"What the fuck is your creepy fucking obsession with sex?"
"When you're so evasive, I can only speculate."
"Speculate in your own fucking head."
She's silent for a moment. Then she speaks again, her voice cold and commanding, and the mere sound of it sends shivers down his spine: "Tell me."
"It's a guy who was with me at the fucking academy, okay? I don't know why the fuck you care but it's not whatever you're thinking."
She pauses. "A friend?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
There is a brief silence. "If I find you trying to talk to him, or others in the guild, about my amulet--"
"Yeah, you'll make me fucking regret it. I get it." He clenches his teeth. The amulet is tight and uncomfortable on his neck, makes it harder to sleep.
"Good."
There is a sudden knock on his door, and he starts upright, heart hammering. "Who's there?"
"Hey, who're you talking to?" It's the voice of one of the gnomes, the one with the unruly hair. "Should I come back later?"
"Go away," he says, sinking back down into the bed.
"No later, then? Jeez." He hears footsteps. "I just know a cool secret thing and thought you'd want to know the cool secret thing! But if not, then that's fine!" Their voice, almost singsong-like, isn't getting further away, despite the footsteps.
He lies still and silent, breathing. After several seconds, he hears a dejected sigh, followed by real footsteps receding down the corridor.
In the morning, Dave heads to the library and takes several deep breaths in the main hall. "Do your worst," he mutters, and Khyta's gold floods his eyes.
He has to grudgingly admit she was right - if he's calmer, her breathing for him is almost tolerable. He's going to just zone out and wait, but with her keeping his eyes open, he can't help but pay attention to what she's doing - looking up maps, locations of temples, tearing through book after book with uncanny speed. She looks up the tracks too, as an afterthought; they're quasits, as he'd thought. Finally, she draws a map.
"There," she says as she returns control to him, and he sways momentarily on his feet. "That's where we need to go."
He doesn't answer, grimacing at the acidic taste in his mouth.
"We're going tomorrow. Meet with your friend if you like, but remember, I am listening."
It's not like he has anywhere better to go. Dave heads for the spellcasters' guild, and Khyta and the amulet are silent. There's a vendor selling lamps with extended enchantments; interesting stuff. He'll have to ask Sterling about it, assuming Sterling doesn't decide to be an ass.
He lingers with the lamp vendor longer than he really intended, but eventually he takes a deep breath and asks the woman at the entrance about Sterling. Using a Send spell in a ring on her hand, she tells him he has a visitor. Dave shifts, suddenly aware of the amulet again; he pulls his robe tighter to make sure it's not visible.
And then Sterling appears, and he's... he's smiling, beaming like he's fucking delighted to see him. "Dave! It's been so long!"
He holds out his hand and shakes Dave's eagerly. "Hey," Dave manages.
"Man, you look like a ghost. You okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just didn't get a lot of sleep." Dave tries to smile. "Uh, how's the guild?"
"It's great! Come on, let me show you around." He leads him inside. "How about you? What have you been up to since the academy?"
Dave shudders. The amulet is heavy around his neck. "Just... small jobs. Wizard for hire. Came here on a job guarding a trading caravan."
Sterling glances at him. "Huh. Well, if you ever get tired of it, I can always put in a good word for you here."
Dave blinks, then looks away. "Once they get a look at my academy record I'm betting that doesn't count for much."
Sterling winces. "Well, you never know. The bosses here are pretty open-minded. Andolyn didn't even go to an academy! If they like what's in Column A, then what's in Column B from years ago isn't quite so important. And hey, I bet you've seen all sorts of things in your travels. That's 90% of innovation, and this guild's all about innovation." He gives him an encouraging smile. Dave feels a little sick.
"Hey, about those lamps they were selling outside," he says. "How does that work? The guy was talking about special alloys?"
They talk about magic for a bit. There's something pleasant and familiar about it, nostalgia for the academy days, before everything went to shit. Sterling used to be constantly trying to one-up and outdo him at everything, but now he's just happy to share what he's learned, to ask eager questions about what Dave's learned in his time doing the down and dirty sort of magic work. Eventually Sterling invites him out for drinks at his favorite pub, the Witch's Tombstone.
The place is packed when they get there. Sterling expertly leads him to an alcove that's a little quieter and fetches them drinks. They sit and talk and sip the house special, and by the time Sterling stands up to get them another round, Dave's feeling pretty good, pleasantly buzzed, even vaguely starting to think maybe he can give joining the guild a shot after all.
That's when he hears commotion coming from across the room. He stands up to see what's going on; it's a couple of people in golden robes, surrounded by six drunk guys shouting unintelligibly. He's about to sit back down. And then the chatter starts to quiet down, and he hears what they're shouting: "Khytist scum!"
Dave freezes where he stands, his blood running cold as the amulet tingles on his neck. And then Sterling reappears through the crowd, fists glowing. "You want to beat up on some Khytist scum?" he shouts. "Come get it!"
The amulet's unchanged, but Dave still can't breathe. His lungs are full of lead; he's shivering, even though his skin feels hot. His fists clench, his throat burns, his vision swims. "Sterling," he manages to say. "The fuck's going on?"
"Are you going to help or not?" Sterling says as the six drunk men advance on him. "Dave, I know you've got issues, but they're trying to beat up on us just for being here!"
Him. Fucking him.
He's hot and cold and paralyzed and nauseous, and fucking Sterling's just standing there like it's nothing as the amulet claws at his throat, Khyta's cold, contemptuous voice echoing in his head. "You," Dave chokes out. "You're a fucking Khytist."
Sterling turns back towards him, his expression darkening. "Seriously, Dave? I didn't take you for one of them."
Dave's snarling a spell before he can think much of anything. The Ray of Frost hits Sterling in the back and throws him forward in a burst of sleet; he lands on his hands and knees in front of the drunkards, and one of them grabs the chance to kick him in the face. Sterling is thrown back and crawls back to his feet, shuffling back and signaling that he's out of the fight, glaring at Dave as blood rushes from his nose. "What the fuck, Dave," he says, wiping at his nosebleed.
"You don't fucking get it," Dave says, shaking, his pulse pounding against the band of the amulet, tightening or maybe not. "Fucking Khyta. I... fuck. Fuck your fucking god, Sterling."
"This is about your temple, isn't it?" Sterling says, lifting a hand. "Look, that was before I even converted. It's just some extremists who--"
And then Dave can't hear anymore as his ears ring with static. Everything seems to slow down, buried memories rising from the sludge. Khyta. Fucking Khyta. Fucking Khyta. It was her, it was fucking her too.
And then he's screaming, and another Ray of Frost flies from his fingertips, right into Sterling's face. His eyes are wide as a flurry of snow and frost throws him backwards, ice building on his forehead and shattering as his head hits the floor with a crack. And they remain wide open and glazed over as Dave stares at him, breathing rapidly, clenching his fists until they hurt.
"He's dead!" shouts a man who kneels down to check his pulse. Dave tries to swallow, but his mouth's dry and he's nauseous. Sterling. Fucking Sterling. He was... He was...
And then Dave turns and walks out, the patrons' eyes still on him.
