My Azata knight commander, Viveka. A dhampir witch turned fairy, an appropiate level of chaotic. I wanted to update her profile pic since she has changed so much.
Day 18 of Owlcatober, Fortune, in which Woljif reflects on the ones passing through the party and compares his to Seelah's.
[Ao3 Link]
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Perhaps the smart thing should have been to skip town as soon as the whole thing with the Wardstone rather literally blew over. After all, he was just a tiefling surrounded by a bunch of holy types going on a crusade into the not-so-literal jaws of the Abyss. Heck, he’d even been outright told that if he didn’t want to stick around, he was free to go because he’d already done what was asked of him back in Kenabres.
But… Woljif looked at Seelah again as she was brushing her new horse, and felt his tail twitching. He was not jealous. No-siree, not at all.
Seelah was a paladin, after all. Not born with horns as well, always a plus in Mendev. She was chosen by Iomedae herself as a mortal champion. He was just a tiefling, a rogue (though a crafty one with his magic!), and Calistria sure hadn’t chosen him for anything. He took what he was. Literally, as he considered the Moon of the Abyss in his jacket.
“Woljif, you’re staring.”
He sighed as Seelah looked at him leaning against the corner post of the temporary stable.
“You do realize how much a warhorse like that would go for, right?”
“Yeah,” Seelah admitted as the horse turned its attention to Woljif. “Honestly, I don’t get why Iomeneigh chose me. Or the name, really.”
The horse snorted. Woljif could swear that thing was smart. Smart enough to stay quiet until the chance to signal them in the ruins of Kenabres, and to make an intention to be Seelah’s mount clear. Smart like Soot, even, and that crow had one heck of a disapproving grandma stare. Not that Woljif ever had one that actually cared.
“Plus, a weapon that can turn into any other?” he continued to try and move past the thoughts. “You’d have big nobs and kings paying bags for a weapon like that!”
Finnean heard him and piped up from his scabbard. “I’m not an actual sword, I just like that as a standby! Fits in with Iomedae’s whole thing, y’know? Plus, the new commander asked that I stick with Seelah. Cavalry use different weapons, so having someone who doesn’t need to carry a big lance and a sword helps.”
“And I appreciate it,” Seelah said as she tapped the hilt of the living weapon gently. “You sure a lance breaking isn’t going to hurt?”
“Breaking means a good hit, I’ll be fine!”
Woljif sighed, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the post and started pacing around in a small circle. He handled enough of the loot to have a sense of where their wealth would be coming from, and what he would get a share of if he stayed. It was why he was staying, especially since he wasn’t likely to be able to skim more than a few silver pieces out of the coffers while helping Wilcer.
“Never mind your armor,” he continued as the numbers ran through his head. “Y’know, mithril, decorated, helmet that lets you breathe underwater… thought you said you were a street kid!”
“Was,” Seelah noted as she stopped, and started looking into the distance. “Wasn’t mine originally.”
“Yeah, I know, Acemi’s and all. Still, how many thousands is that? And it just fell into your lap? What I’d give for some of your luck.”
“Come again?”
Was she being deliberately dense? Woljif turned and stared at her, then to the horse, then to Seelah or more specifically that fancy armor she inherited from a woman dead because of her.
“It’s just – everything I own, I’ve had to take. The hard way. And half the time I’d lose it again, having to ditch it to make a fast escape or because the so-called ‘Family’ decided it was their cut. You? You got a paladin killed, then instead of hanging you for theft they took you in.”
“You’re not saying anything I haven’t thought about.”
“Just… how? How can you just accept it so easily?”
Seelah fell silent. Woljif felt a pang of guilt. Seelah wasn’t those blue blooded noble types at all, even if she carried herself like a knight. Nor was she even one of those raised by priests types, or at least they only got to her after she had a sense of self. Seelah tried to be like anyone else when she wasn’t trying to be a heroine. Just one that had a literal fortune of good wargear and was going to be getting plenty more to pay for drinks.
Bah, why was he feeling guilty? She was set! Iomedae’s church would find a job for her that made sure it paid her tabs, or get her enough quests that she’d get enough money from mercenary work. She had her fortune set, as grand or humble as she was willing to pursue. Tieflings like him still had to find theirs the hard way! He pointed ignored that a pair of tiefling paladins, one from the Eagle Watch and one from the Sunrise Sword, were walking by at that point, as well armed as their untainted counterparts.
He was turning away when Seelah spoke up again. “It wasn’t easy.”
Woljif stopped and turned, seeing that Seelah had put the horse brush down and picked up her helmet.
“The first time they had me try the gear on, I nearly broke down. They’d been trying to teach me that an unbroken sword can carry on its past owner’s fight, but given how… given my role in it,” Seelah corrected, “it still felt wrong.”
“So how’d you talk your way around it?”
“Eh, they pointed out what good I’d do if I got killed because I wasn’t properly equipped. Then asked me how much good I could do with it. Still trying, not that I’ll ever succeed.”
Woljif stared. It really was a different world, wasn’t it? Seelah didn’t need to worry about her next meal anymore. Then again, neither did he as long as he kept the crew he was with happy, did he? Heck he probably ate better than some of the laborers did. At least when he wasn’t sitting in a makeshift dungeon with a half-wit guard.
Besides, they were both in this mess. The Knight-Commander’s personal lance (the self-contained group of combatants, not the weapon), complete with shares of the loot and being kitted from it. That fancy shortsword from that scholar the chief managed to outwit in a debate was at Woljif’s hip, after all, and scrolls came his way to fill out his spellbook with the reagents to use them. He was even getting fancier tools for lockpicking!
Yeah, he wasn’t striding around in mithril armor and his horse was a riding one rather than combat-trained, but then again he wasn’t being kept on for charging headlong into demons, was he?
If anything, Woljif was starting to think he’d have the better fortune than Seelah. What use was all that fancy gear and pricey warhorse if she got killed on some quest in the sticks? Nope, Woljif was going to live to use his wealth. One day he might even get into business somewhere. Maybe Zarcie could help him get into that merchant guild if he went down that way...
