Temporarily de-aged (like, preteen/teen) Fjord and found family with the M9?
They gave him Yasha’s feathers to use as a blanket before quickly turning around to confer.
“—not actually cold, though. I mean, we’re underground—”
“It’s the principle of the thing. For, like…for the shock, or whatever.”
“The shock?”
“Beauregard has a point. I would feel pretty shocked as well.”
They furtively glanced over their shoulders. A skinny lump shifted beneath the cloak.
They turned back around.
“Gods, he’s so small—”
“It’s actually kind of cute—”
“Like a beanpole—”
“But his head, it’s…it’s so big—”
“And it’s been a while since we’ve seen him tusk-less,” Caduceus mused. “Do you think we should be worried?”
All of them fell silent. And, from behind their backs, came a cough.
“I, ah…I’m really sorry to trouble you all, but…where am I? And, um…who are you?”
Jester was the first to spin around. Beau and Caleb both winced, but neither were fast enough.
“We’re the Mighty Nein!” she declared. “And we’re your friends, silly! Your best friends in the world!”
The scruffy little half-orc only looked more apprehensive. He took a step back, brow furrowing, nearly tripping over the edge of Yasha’s cloak.
“My, uh…my what?”
“What is the last thing you remember?” Caleb asked.
“And how old do you think you are?” Beau added.
Fjord hesitated, carefully weighing his options.
“I’m…I’m old enough,” he said slowly. “Old enough to defend myself. And, I’m sorry again, sirs and madams, but I don’t think I should…be talking to strangers.”
“I’m Jester,” said Jester, as if that meant anything, “and if you know my name, we aren’t strangers, right?”
Fjord did not look like he agreed. His eyes darted around the chamber, glancing over a worktable he no longer recognized, the husk of an arcane circle he didn’t remember triggering.
Nott tugged on the edge of Caleb’s sleeve. “You should Friends him,” she hissed, “I’m sure that would work.”
“Er…perhaps not—”
“I can stun him,” Beau whispered. “Want me to try tha—”
“I’d really rather you didn’t!”
They all looked back up again and saw that Fjord had scampered back. His feet were bare on the cold flagstones and he held the shawl closer, as if to keep warm.
“I…I really don’t know who you are, and I…I don’t think I’m comfortable being here.”
“But, Fjord,” Jester protested immediately, “we can’t just leave you here—”
He stopped. His posture faltered.
“How do you know my name?” he asked.
Jester threw her hands up. “Because we’re your friends! You just…look, there was this magic spell and now you’re a baby—”
His face flushed instantly.
“I’m not a baby!”
“—but it’s alright! As soon as I get Greater Restoration back, we can fix you up, lickingly-split.”
“It is lickety-split,” Caleb said mildly.
“What, really?”
“Ja, it can be confusing.”
“I also made that mistake,” Yasha volunteered. “It happens to anyone—”
Fjord cleared his throat.
“You people are insane,” though this declaration lacked his earlier barbs. “I’ve never met kidnappers as weird as you.”
“That’s ‘cause we ain’t kidnappers,” Beau sighed. “You’re lost and alone and afraid, yeah? We’re just trying to get you home.”
The teenager paused. “Home as in…the asylum?”
“Home as in…wherever you would like to be,” Caleb said.
“We’re staying in the Cormorant’s Roost now,” Caduceus added. “If you want, you can hang around there for a while. At least until you know where you want to go.”
Fjord’s shoulders lowered slightly.
“R…really? You won’t take me back?”
“No,” said Nott. Her gaze was glued to his. “We’re not going to take you anywhere you don’t feel welcome.”
“And you can keep my shawl if you like,” Yasha added. “It is very warm.”
Fjord’s eyes went wide. His cheeks colored slightly, but he drew the cloak close.
“I’ve never seen feathers like these before.”
The corner of Yasha’s mouth quirked up. “They are a special kind. From the winged beasts of Xhorhas.”
“The what?”
“We’ll tell you on the way, are you coming or what? Oh, and call me Beau,” she held out a hand. “My full name is Beauregard, but the short version’s enough.”
Fjord blinked twice. He glanced over the crowd of people. They were definitely well-armed, and well-armored, and looked strong, but…something about them…and the way that they spoke…
He held out a hand. He grasped her palm.
“And you’re sure you’re not kidnappers?”
“Positive.”
“I can cast Zone of Truth on everyone if you like!”
“Zone of…what?”
Nott grinned back at him from his other side. The two of them were almost eye-to-eye.
“It’s a magic spell,” she said, and winked. “She learned it from a god called…Button-beard.”
Fjord snorted. “Oh, no way! That’s got to be fake, no god would ever be named something like that!”
Nott’s gaze twinkled as they trailed behind the rest. “Oh, you’re a sharp one. And you’d be surprised at how many people fall for tricks like that!”
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