Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

High Tower, Redcastle

250 years before the Oxventure Guild…

Black wings spread across the dark canvas of the night sky. The soaring winds helped carry the carrier pigeon’s small body in the final lengths of her journey. She faced many challenges travelling north from the large tree by the sea. She had outwitted hawks, weathered storms, and travelled over vast stretches of land with only small moments of rest, but soon she would be home. Her flight was encumbered by a leather holster on her leg. Her black beady eyes finally settled on her destination: the strange tree. This tree was slender and tall; it had no branches, but many hollows in which she could roost. The hollow for her nest shone with the light of the small suns. She flapped her wings to maintain momentum before she swooped down into the hollow. She landed perfectly in the middle of the space.

Her sudden arrival caused the other creature who lived in the hollow to coo loudly in fright. The other was a strange figure, long with bare limbs and sagging furs. She cooed softly to soothe him; the poor thing was so easy to start. Once he felt safe, he held out his limb like a branch.

He cooed to her in his strange voice from his beakless maw. The end of his limb twitched slightly, beckoning to her. She fluttered up to him on tired wings to deliver the gift from the other creatures in the large tree by the sea. The creature untied the pouch from her leg with his careful talons, and in return he gave to her a gift of a small red berry. This creature was a kind one, much kinder than the other one from whence she came. That one never gave her berries. She cooed softly again to express her gratitude. The creature carried her to her enclosed nest. After such a long journey, she was glad to finally rest in the shelter of the hollow in the strange tree. She buried her head under her wings and drifted into a deep sleep.

--

The hour was late. The moon adorned in a cloak of black velvet and glittering diamonds had not yet yielded the sky to the Geth’s morning suns. The old magister’s swollen joints had long demanded rest. Just as he had given in and decided to retire for the remainder of the evening, a small pigeon made its rather sudden appearance. Seldom did pigeons arrive so late at night. The bird must have been instructed to fly without rest. For what purpose?

The magister stroked his beard as he gazed at her leather holster in his hand. With gnarled fingers, he slowly pried open the holster. Inside in contained a small scroll secured with a crest bearing an ornate letter “A” neatly stamped into the black wax seal. The Astor family crest.

Black seals denoted urgency which seldom brought good news. A thousand of fears descended upon the abjuration wizard’s mind. Ignoring the aches in his weary body, the old magister began to climb the spiralling stairs of the high tower, with the scroll clutched tightly in his hand. As he ascended, he found the many chambers of his fellow magisters were dark with not a sound from behind the heavy doors. It was only as he drew nearer to the highest chamber that he could hear sounds of life. The Arcane Council was still in session, much to his surprise. There was a time when these meetings ended within the hour, but those days, and those who assembled that Council, were long passed.

The angry voices of the current council returned him to the present, their words distorted as they echoed through the spire. He hesitated as reached the large oak doors of the council chamber; such meetings were not to be interrupted. He felt the ridge of the black seal under his fingertips. Steadying his breath, he raised his fist to knock, but a shout gave him pause.

“Fafnir will hold! The gods have willed it so!” He heard Lord Eitri, the dwarven cleric, shout. His booming voice shook the tower’s very walls.

“What of the Voros clan? Are we certain they can manage the task?” The elvish druid, Lady Muirgen, sharply countered. “The nature of mortal-kin is not as giving as the will of gods.”

“Enough!” A third voice, the young human Archmage Theodoric, brought a firm end to the arguing. “The Voros clan have the full confidence of this council. It is settled, Muirgen.” His tone warmed at her name. “We have far more pressing matters to attend to than to argue on what is done. We have received word that Pyrrhus and Attor have been sighted in the south lands. We need to decide on our course of action... but first, I believe there is someone at the door. Come in, Magister Cuthbert!” The Archmage called to him. The old man sheepishly entered the room.

“Councillors, my sincerest apologies for this interruption.” He bowed as he approached the grand table in the centre of the room. He was welcomed with a warm smile from the young Archmage.

“Nonsense, my good sir. What is the matter?”

“I am not certain, my lord. A message has just arrived from Lord Astor.” The magister said. Theodoric exchanged a troubled look with Muirgen as he took the scroll from the old man. He cleanly sliced the seal open with his dagger and unfurled the scroll.

“Lord Astor sends word to inform us that the keys have been distributed across the land and their keepers sworn to secrecy. The final key has been secured in the lowest depths of Alcataz with the orb sealed away in a tomb. All is settled.” He announced; his words weighed heavily in the room.

“By the gods,” murmured Eitri, “it is done.”

“My lords, my lady, the realm is safer thanks to your presence.” He saw that his praise did little to ease their heavy burden. He cast his eyes to the vacant seats of the Paladin and Sorcerer councillors. “I am certain Lady Melisende and Lord Alfr would be celebrating the triumph were they here with us today.”

“Thank you, sir,” Theodoric gave him a weak smile. “The battle with Vocatus cost us dearly, but it is a great comfort to know his reign of terror has been ended now that he is contained.”

“The orb was a brilliant invention of yours, my lord! I know your grandsire would be very proud,” the old man insisted, Theodoric’s cheeks grew rather red at the high praise. 

“I agree that there is much to be celebrated,” Muirgen said, “but I worry about the future of this kingdom. Vocatus was a challenge to be certain, but he was a fool, and there were advantages to be gained in his mistakes. We may not find ourselves so fortuitous with the next adversary.”

“You have become cynical in your older age,” Theodoric said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “My grandsire created this council to be protectors of the realm. Together we have contended with many threats, and we have designs for those who remain.”

“What of the threats we have not considered?” She pleaded, reaching up to grip his hand. “We are not gods. We will not live forever!” Her eyes flicked to the empty chairs.

“Muirgen is right, Theodoric,” Eitri said, gently. “It is time to select successors for Melisende and Alfr. We cannot carry this burden alone.”

“Successors? Surely, it is too soon... Magister Cuthbert, what do you think?” He asked, to the old man’s surprise. “Your counsel would be much welcomed in this matter.”

“Archmage,” he began, slowly, “the safety of the realm must prevail over our sentimentalities. Perhaps it is time to consider a more lasting proposition. Your grandsire was a wise man, however, he did not have the foresight to know the challenges the council now contends with.” His eyes settled on the Paladin’s seat. Emboldened, the magister continued. “The Lady Melisende had acolytes, did she not?”

“Yes. They mourn her greatly.”

“Loss can inspire bravery.”

“You want us to call on novice squires to protect the realm? As a standing army?” Muirgen interjected, astounded.

“No, my lady, not an army. An order!”

“We have an order, the Order of the Silent Fist.”

“An order of exceptional monks whose very purpose is to guard the realm’s secrets unseen. I am speaking of an order to defend and preserve the sanctity of the realm,” the magister replied.

There was a long silence before anyone spoke again.

“A Paladin order… Who better to protect the realm than her people?” Theodoric murmured, seemingly mulling over his words.

“They would need a name, of course. Perhaps something in Tabaxi in Melisende’s honour.”

“That would be a fine tribute to her, but such decorum must wait. For now, send word to her followers in the Mists and invite their leaders to Redcastle. They may be able to help us contend with Pyrrhus.”

“But who will partake in this order? Who would be willing to take such a risk?” Eitri challenged.

“The brave will come,” the Archmage said with a renewed confidence. “There will always be those who are willing to heed the call to adventure, and to protect the realm. For within the people of Geth, therein lies the hearts of heroes.”

The Order's Keep, Mistmire Citadel

Two weeks before the events at Necropolis-on-Sea...

Black wings spread across the bright morning sky. The violent winds did nothing to impede the beast as its ever-expanding form shrouded the land in its great shadow.

The stone steps were firm beneath her feet as she ran to reach atop the highest tower. Her legs grew weaker the higher she climbed. The black smoke that weighed heavily in the air made her lungs ache. The tower seemed to sway with the howling winds. When she reached her destination, the view from the high tower made her heart stop. 

A great fire spreading faster than it could be quelled, leaving crop fields reduced to ashes in its wake. The vast forests were no more than charred wastelands. The great cities and villages no more than rubble. The dark waters of Gethian sea roiled and rocked as the violent winds stirred. On the horizon, she could see red glow from the Gathered Isles as black columns of swirling smoke rose higher than any tower they could build.  

She looked up once more to the sky. The shadowed creature opened its great gaping maw to devour the two suns. The land was cast into darkness. The only light now was from the great fires below.

She felt a rumbling beneath her. The tower’s groan was deafening as it began to lean precariously to one side. A well-timed strong wind threatened to knock her from her place in the tower. She could hear a loud bang from somewhere below her. She clung to a pillar near to her, but it was for naught. As the tower continued to lean, she lost her grip.

Falling.

Falling.

Crack! The tower gave way to the torrenting winds.

Falling.

Bang! Falling from high above, the tower plummeted towards her.

Falling.

She was engulfed in the black smoke. Soon, she would reach the flames.

Falling.

The great beast turned its gaze upon her and lunged for its prey. It opened its terrible mouth. It would consume her too. She felt a scream escape her lips, but she heard no sound. She saw only blackness.

BANG!

Saraid awoke with a start.

Her skin was damp with sweat; the morning air sent a chill up her spine. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Bang! Bang!

There was a loud pounding at her chamber door, which served to wake her and worsen her dull headache. She got up from her bed and dressed quickly to tend to her caller. Much to her chagrin, she found Chauncey waiting for her. 

“Good morning, Saraid,” he croaked. She winced slightly as his voice crack pierced her mind like a sliver.

“Morning, Chauncey, how may I be of service to you?” She asked, her eyes settling on his new cape. It was no longer a deep ochre as hers was, but now a crisp white following his promotion to the great council. Well, mostly white. She revelled at the sight of the mud stains spattered across the clean linen.

“Shattershield requested your presence,” he said.

“The captain summoned me? For what purpose?”

“He did not say, only that you are to meet him at the north tower.”

A sudden sharp pain pierced through her skull. She gripped Chauncey’s shoulder as she tried to steady herself.   

“Saraid,” he spoke softly, but she failed to find any comfort in his distinctive voice.

“I am fine.” She said, tersely. “Thank you for delivering this message.”

Having served his purpose, Chauncey puffed up his chest and walked off like a lame peacock, leaving her to wallow in discomforting silence. In apathetic sort of sense, she envied his cavalier attitude. He seemed to be without a care in the realm, yet it was he who was granted the highest of honours in their order. Meanwhile, she carried the greatest of burdens and remained limited in her station. Had she not proven herself loyal to the Order? How long was she to be punished for another’s sins?

Saraid splashed her face with some water from her basin to steel her nerves. She patted her face dry, only to catch a glance of her disheveled appearance in her silver hand mirror. She combed her hair, which helped a little. She tore a chunk off the stale bread loaf on her table and choked it down with some far too bitter ale. Poorly rested and even more poorly fed, Saraid left to find the captain. She seldom left her chambers without her armour, but in this moment, she was grateful to be without it. She was unencumbered by its weight and could move on light feet through the long halls of the Order’s keep.

The stone steps were firm beneath her feet as she climbed to reach the top of the north tower. Her leg grew weaker the higher she went. Her sense of urgency had helped to keep her nerves at bay, but now she felt herself tremble. She steadied her breathing, taking in the cool morning air. The smell of the saltwater carried on the breeze gave her surprise, as though she half-expected something else. Upon her arrival at their meeting place, she found her captain staring out over the vast eastern landscape beyond them.

The receding mists revealed a breathtaking view of Geth. To the east, the colossal mountains stood guard at the edge of the realm, only giving way to the forests at their feet. Roads and foot trodden paths were the veins which lead to bustling cities and rowdy villages, the hearts of the realm. To the west, the great Gethian sea glittered under the light of the two suns, and on the distant horizon, one might even catch a glimpse of the Gathered Isles. All the realm was below them. Such a beautiful sight would catch one’s breath, but that was not what stirred her.

“Good morning, Saraid.” Captain Shattershield turned to greet her as she approached him, feeling a familiar warmth as she drew nearer to him. “I see Chauncey delivered my message in a timely manner.”

“Good morning, sir.” She felt herself wavered under his gaze.

“I hope you can forgive me for the early call, but this is an urgent matter. As I am sure you have heard, there was a recent incident at the Alcataz stronghold.”

Yes, she had heard about the prison outbreak. A massive explosion had enabled some of the most dangerous criminals in the realm to escape. It was an utter disaster. No one knew how it happened, but the popular rumour amongst her rank was that this was orchestrated by the thieves' guilds to break out high profile guild members and leaders. The more eccentric few believed this to be a distraction for some grand scheme, but she knew better than to believe such tall tales.

“This incident is most concerning to the Order,” he continued, “therefore, I want you to ride east to our sister order’s monastery in Ailbhe Mountains.”

To the monastery? Why not send her to Alcataz?

“Of course, sir,” she affirmed, “I can be ready to leave at first light tomorrow. May I ask why the monastery?”

“Alcataz was the hold for something very important to the Order. In the aftermath of the disaster, it was discovered that the item was stolen from the premises. It is our understanding that the monastery’s library has information pertaining to this item that will help us retrieve it.”

Something important to the Order was stolen?

“I also advise that you set out today,” he added. “The Grand Master of Ailbhe is expecting you, I feel it would be rude to keep her waiting.” A chill ran up her spine.

“I will leave posthaste,” she paused, “thank you, sir, for entrusting this to me.” As she departed, she swore she saw him smile.

She returned to her chambers with her mind racing with all that she needed to prepare. Her horse would need to be readied, she would need rations for travelling and personal attire and items… how long would she be gone? Days? Weeks? The significance of this order was beginning to weigh heavily on her. The knot in her stomach twisted.

Dragonborn were hard to read. She found they lacked the subtle tells that readily betrayed species with softer features. Her captain was a stoic man, but something in his voice caused her to tremble.

A sudden glint of red caught her eye.

The silver hand mirror on her desk laid idle. Gazing into it, she saw nothing but her own tired, pallid skin and messy, red hair. Must have caught the sun. She packed it away in her bag.

Setting out on her journey, she was joined by dark clouds that loomed threateningly high above her. She hid her face under the large hood of her cloak. What good is being a diviner when the gods do not warn you of the rain?

Somewhere in the mountains, northwest of The Tangle

Two weeks before the events at Necropolis-on-Sea…

Dob’s feet felt heavy like lead. Each step was agony, but he had to keep going. He had to find Katie Pearlhead and bring an end to this longstanding hostility between them. By whatever means necessary. It was pure will that kept him standing. He had been walking for days and the pain settling into his joints was becoming too much to ignore. He had followed Katie’s trail to a mountainous region at the ends of the lush forests. Hiding in the mountains was a foolish move on her part, as Dob knew the terrain better than most, certainly better than a thief queen.

She had an advantage with a head start, so he would rest only for an hour or two on the side of the road before taking up his course again to close the gap. But as the days passed, it had begun to take a toll on his body, which now begged for proper sleep and food. He ate what he could scavenge on the way, but the findings were scarce. Bittersweet berries and small mushrooms did little to satiate his perpetual hunger. The mountain was as unyielding in her tidings, as her terrain was relentless. The sun bore down on him, making his clothes damp with sweat, and the accompaniment of cool mountain breeze sent a shiver down his spine. The air was thin too, making his breathing difficult. He found himself struggling to fill his lungs. But he had to keep moving. He had to. He had to… Tracking her down would be… easy… He was beginning to feel rather lightheaded.

He found his legs trembling beneath him as he struggled to move forward. Why was the ground coming towards him?

A sharp pain.

Everything went…

…dark. 

--

A dull ache spread through his skull. He couldn’t lift his neck. Dob slowly opened his eyes. Sun streamed into the dark room from small slits between wooden shutters. Dust swirled in the air. Under his fingertips, he felt the rough fabric of a wool blanket. He reached up and touched the thick gauze that made his head feel heavy. He tried to remove it, but someone swatted his hand away.

He scrambled to the other side of the bed. The other person in the room looked rather startled by his alertness.

“Who are you?” Dob demanded. The person merely shook their head and pressed a finger to their mouth. They were dressed in plain garbs of cotton and wool, showing signs of age but well-maintained.

The person showed him the gauze in their hands and gestured to their head then to his. Dob slowly returned to their side, and the person began to unravel the gauze. They applied a salve to his wound, he winced at the stinging pain. They were gentle as they wrapped his head with the fresh bandages. When they were finished, they poured a cup of water from a bucket at their side. They offered it to him. Dob eagerly drank from the cup. The cool spring water soothed his aching throat. They filled his cup for him when he held it out for more. He continued to drink until the bucket was nearly empty.

“Thank you,” he said, wiping away the water on his chin. With a warm smile, they nodded in reply. “Do you have anything to eat?” He asked, the nagging hunger had returned. Again, they nodded. The person stood to leave. As Dob shifted to get up, they placed a firm hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. Dob was to remain where he was, he settled into the bed once more.

He took a moment to study his surroundings. The room was humbly furnished with hand carved pieces of only the essentials. A bed, a small table, a stool... nothing more. The walls were bare, no paintings or tapestries on the walls, or carvings in the brick. He listened for sounds beyond this room, but he could only hear the wind through the trees. Plain garbs, vows of silence, modest dwellings, unyielding altruism... As a child, he had come to a place like this, he could still remember the first time he found them.

Autumn had come quickly that year, and the forest was all too happy to welcome it. The change in seasons made scavenging a difficult task and Dob found himself often going to bed hungry. He travelled further down the mountain in the hopes that the findings there would be more generous. As he wandered along a stream, he came across a rather strange sight. There, in the middle of the forest, was a grand building of stone and wood. To the side of the building was a lush garden of vegetables and fruits. He had never seen anything like it before; he wondered what kind of person might live here. He listened hard, but he could hear no sounds of people. Perhaps whoever lived here had gone out for a walk. Desperately hungry, Dob hopped over the stone fence, and crept his way through the garden to find over-ripe vegetables. That evening, he roasted turnips, carrots, and apples over a fire and devoured each morsel. He had not had something so delicious since his sister’s cooking. When he was full, he still felt a pain in his stomach. It wasn’t very nice to steal from the garden, but he had little choice until Suzette returned. From that day on, Dob would sneak into the garden to harvest what he could, even if it was near rotten. Each night, he ate like a king, for surely it was a king who lived in such a grand place with all the vegetables in the world. All was well, until one day there was someone else in the garden.

He hadn’t heard the woman coming up behind him. It was only when her staff whacked him across the back of his hand that he knew he was in trouble. He started to cry as he was certain he would be punished… But instead, the woman wiped away his tears and took him gently by the hand. She brought him inside, where he saw that this was not a house of a king, but a home for many people. The woman brought him to a seat at a long table – the longest he had ever seen. She brought him a delicious bowl of stew, which he ate ravenously. The people in the house were kind, but strange, he thought. They said nothing to him while they shared their food. The woman gave him a small bed roll, and new clothes to wear for he had long outgrown the ones he had. Even after he thanked her, she said nothing. He returned to his little camp, pondering that day’s strange events. When he returned the next morning, a basket of fresh vegetables and some bread was waiting for him.

Dob found the speechless monks to be very helpful. They taught him how to scavenge for berries and mushrooms, teaching him what was safe and what was not. They taught him how to make a proper shelter to protect him from winds and storms. All the time spent with him; the monks never uttered a word. Now, that was not to say he never tried to get them to speak. At first, he would ask questions, but they would only mime their answers, which he had gotten pretty good at interpreting. However, mimes made for poor companions, so he tried other tactics. He would try surprising them by hiding and jumping out, but they would never shout. He would talk ceaselessly; they always had an ear to lend, but never a word to share.

If they would not talk, then neither shall he! He too could become a speechless monk! He spent an entire day getting out all his vocal urges by running around the forest and shouting all the while. Then, he took a vow of silence, which to him choosing the moment to decide to never utter a word again, and it was done! He would practice moving quietly, just like the monks, much to their amusement. The monks showed him some of their techniques, so that he could learn to move like they did, quietly and with great agility.

He practiced everywhere he went: in the gardens, in the woods, and even in the halls of the building. One day, he was so focused on stepping softly during his chores that he forgot where the monks had sent him in the first place. Before he knew it, he had wandered down a long corridor far from the grand hall. Before him was a large oak door, the room beyond he had been forbidden from entering. It was only for the monks, they had mimed. Well, he was aa monk now too, so he should be allowed to go inside.

Dob struggled against the heavy door, opening it only slightly. He squeezed himself through the crack and slipped into the room. He had never seen anything like it before. The large room was like a maze with shelves that reached as high as the ceiling. Upon the shelves, tomes were stacked atop each other, and scrolls shoved into every spot they could fit. There were even more books piled atop desks and even the floor!

He unravelled a scroll on a desk to see a huge illustration of the land. Geth was so big! The sea was even bigger! Are those islands? He traced his finger along the mountains that stretched along the right border, then along the river…. There were so many forests! Which forest were they located in? Oh, there were cities scattered about too! How did they decide where to build them? He wondered if Suzette was in one of these cities on the map. He tried to study their names. Redcastle, Port Fairwind, Bumble… Fafniron…. He noticed how that last one had a small line underneath it, which must have meant it was important… But what could be so special about a place he had never heard of?

Someone had written something underneath.

He leaned in close to read the words.

Crack!

A staff came down on his hand.

Dob jumped back, startled.

A monk towered over him; he had never seen anyone look so angry. He grabbed Dob by the back of his shirt and pulled him from the library. He could do little else but struggle as the monk dragged him through the corridors to the outside. He heard the doors of the monastery close with a heavy thud.

Tears started to spill from his eyes. He knocked on the door, but it would not open. He broke his vow to call out, but no one answered. He stood at the door for what felt like hours, but no one came. He wandered back to his camp with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks. He slept badly that night, but perhaps everything would be well again the next day. Surely, that was long enough to forgive him. The next morning, Dob ran to the monastery to find its doors still closed. He wandered over to the garden. There he found a basket of peppers, carrots, beets, onions, peaches, and apples atop the stone fence. His favourites.

“Thank you.”

The wind rustled through the trees.

He took the basket and wandered back to his camp. He sat on his bed roll with a peach in his hand. He took a bite from it, its juices rolling down his chin. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and tossed the fruit into the woods. A sour taste lingered in his mouth.

He picked up a stick and began to draw what he could remember of the map. The only town he could remember was Bumble. What a silly named place, he had thought. He knew there was a road to the east of the monastery. He could travel there by foot, and surely, he would meet someone on their own travels who could direct him to the nearest city. He couldn’t wait for Suzette anymore. He had to go find her.

Dob packed his bag with his few possessions, and carefully secured his bedroll atop. He covered his campfire with damp leaves to smother any remaining embers. There was one thing to pack. Leaning against one of the trees was his lute. The last gift he ever received from Suzette. He had all but abandoned it in his vow of silence, but that didn’t matter now. Dob picked up the lute and strummed its strings. It had a warm tone.

Perhaps he could use music to find Suzette, he thought, and he began to find the notes for her lullaby. He continued to pluck the strings as he walked. He took his first step towards the traveler’s road with the whole world was ahead of him. What awaited him; he did not know.

First, he needed to find his family. 

--

Dob was startled from his nostalgia by the monk. They had returned with a bowl of mushroom stew that was looking quite appetizing to his aching stomach. He was also given a small roll of bread and a cup of water.

Dob ripped the roll apart with his fingers, it was warm and soft. He dipped the fresh bread into the stew. As he chewed, he found that he was pleasantly surprised by the rich taste of the stew, which aided greatly by the variety of spices. He tried to eat slowly, as to not offend, but his hunger consumed him. He devoured his food ravenously; his stomach twisting as he ate. It had been a long time since he had eaten anything this heavy. The monk ate slowly from their own bowl. They offered him their roll, and though he tried to refuse it at first, he sheepishly accepted it. He ate the second roll slowly as his stomach roiled.

When he was adequately satisfied, he settled into bed once more. The monk collected his dish and left him to sleep. A weary warmth was spreading through him. Gods, it would be good to sleep now. His eyelids felt heavy. He could fall asleep except for the nagging sensation he felt in his gut. Why did he ever think he could catch Katie on his own? He was certain that he had lost the trail. She’d be far away by now. Perhaps, he should return to the others. It had been foolish to leave them to begin with… He wondered what kind of adventurers they were having without him… Perhaps they had tried to follow him and were on their way…

He soon drifted into a deep sleep with thoughts of his friends to accompany him.

--

Two days passed while Dob remained at the monastery. The monks provided him with salves, delicious soups, fresh breads, and plenty of pillows as he recovered under their care. While a spell could heal his wounds quickly, a long rest in the quiet monastery healed the soul, as well as the body. Adventuring had taught him important skills; it made him brash, bold, and quick to act. His short time at the monastery reminded him how important it was to be still in the surroundings of the natural world.

On his third day, Dob felt well enough to walk the grounds without accompaniment. Like the monastery from the forest, this monastery had a garden with well tended crops of carrots, onions, turnips, potatoes, and a small orchard with berries bushes, and fruit trees. Dob picked a perfectly ripe peach from the branch of a tree. He bit into it; it tasted sweet. Its juices ran down his hand. He ate the peach as he continued his stroll along the path to the riverside.

His ear caught a strange sound, a voice. He cast his eyes about, and spotted two monks, a tabaxi and a dragonborn, who were accompanied by a human woman. Hers was the voice he heard. She was speaking in hushed tones to the two walking with her. The woman grew quiet as he approached, but she greeted him with a small smile as their paths crossed.

“It is troubling what happened at Alc…” he overheard; her words trailed off as he walked further down the path. Perhaps she was a recruit who had not yet made her vows. The strange occurrence swiftly fled from his mind as his eyes settled on a sight that made his blood run cold.

A woman was sitting by the river’s edge with a large papier-mâché pearl at her side.

Katie Delacour.

Chapter Text

The Silent Monastery, Ailbhe Mountains

Twelve days before the events at Necropolis-on-Sea…

Under the morning light of the two suns, the babbling waters of the mountain stream glittered like diamonds. Birds lent their pretty songs to open air, while a careful breeze accompanied them with the rustling of the trees in a rare harmony. A place as tranquil as this could surely provide Katie with the opportunity for much-needed relaxation, but she found it eluded her.

Perhaps she was not trying hard enough. She closed her eyes and took a sharp inhale of cool air. She found the crisp mountain air to be a welcomed change from the jungle’s suffocating humidity. The Tangle was true to its name. The large, twisted trees made it nearly impossible for strangers to traverse. That was if the creatures that lurked in shadows didn’t get them first. The Tangle would consume those weak to her nature. Only those who knew her secrets could survive. It was the perfect place to hide the Court of Thieves.

A quiet monastery in the mountains made for easy pickings. The Tangle kept her - and her plunder - safe from the ill-intended. Ill-intended outsiders, at least. Nothing could stop the dissent within from festering. The knotted muscles in her shoulder ached as her thoughts drifted away from the serenity of this place to the strife at court. It was hard being the Thief Queen. How was she expected to rule over her subjects when traitors conspired behind her back?

She thought she had purged what little remained of her predecessor’s crew after her coronation, but it seems they were a persisting pestilence. The gods only seemed to mock her further by allowing the Oxventurers to stumble their way to her abode after mere hours of her learning of the treachery. But Katie never failed to turn her misfortunes to her favour. Sending the Oxventurers to deal with the turncoats was a stroke of brilliance. After the rats had torn each other apart, her generals would eliminate those that remained while they licked their wounds. Survival by brawn was a fool’s faith, it was cunning that prevailed time and time again. That was what kept her alive. That was what made her queen.

Still, a thought nagged at her… what did the Oxventurers want with that strange gold key? It must lead to treasures worth their weights in gold if they were willing to kill for it. A matter to investigate after she returned. Until then, she would try to relax while under the care of the Silent Monks. She could find comfort in the knowledge that all her problems would be washed away. She dipped her toes into stream. A small shiver ran up her spine at the sudden chill. She heard a twig snap behind her. Probably just a monk coming to gesture at her.

Wait –

Something heavy collided into her, knocking her to the ground. White stars scattered across her vision as her head slammed on a sharp rock. Dazed, she slowly came to her senses to see bright blue eyes filled with burning rage.

Dob!

She scrambled to get out from underneath him, but he grabbed her and pinned her to the ground. He wrapped his hands around her throat and began to squeeze. Tears welled in her eyes as her windpipe was crushed. She dug her nails into his flesh trying to pry his fingers apart, but he only tightened his grip. Her lungs were screaming for air.

Only seconds to act.

The dagger.

Grab it!

Her fingers brushed against the leather-wrapped hilt. She struggled to reach for it, but she managed. Gripping the hilt tightly, she slashed at his face. The steel sliced a neat scarlet line across his cheek that split open to a deep gash. Blood came quickly.

A single drop fell and rolled down her cheek like a solemn tear.

Dob cursed at her and reeled back, clutching the fresh wound. A new scar to match the other. Freed from his grip, Katie tried to catch her breath; her lungs burning at the sudden intake of the cold air. Her heart pounded hot blood and adrenaline through her veins.

Gods, her crew was useless! How hard was it to kill these damned Oxventurers?

If she wanted it done, she would have to do it herself! Her eyes darted around quickly, searching the surroundings for any sign of the others, but there was nothing. He had come alone, without weapons, without armour. Only his anger. A smirk toyed at her lips.

Idiot.

She lunged at him, aiming her dagger for the thin flesh between two ribs. An easy target for one wearing only a cotton tunic. He caught her wrist before the dagger could meet its mark and twisted her arm. Perhaps he meant to break it, but she was quicker than him. With sudden sweeping kick, she knocked him off his feet. She straddled his hips, pinning him to the ground. She leaned in, dagger in hand to plunge into his heart. He grabbed her wrist, locking them in a struggle.

“How are you still alive?” She snarled, tearing the sore muscles in her throat.

“Spite!” He spat at back her.

The tip of the dagger pressed into his soft flesh. It was time to bring a sweet end to this, to him, at last.   

She gasped at the sudden sharp pain in her back. Every muscle in her body seized. A pair of hands yanked her off him. Before Dob could move an inch, a wooden quarterstaff came down between them, a simple restraint.

Three monks descended on them.

No. Not three. Two, and a stranger.

The first was a large dragonborn monk, who loomed over Dob with her staff at the ready. The second was at her back, Katie felt the threatening prick of their protracted claws lightly grazing her skin. The third was nothing like the silent monks. Her footsteps were heavy as she approached, bringing with her an air of authority. She wore a dark cloak and simple tunic, but Katie spied a bit of chain mail peeking out from underneath her tunic. She had short red hair, and an intense stare that burned Katie.

“What is the meaning of this?” She demanded; her voice as hard as the steel at her hip.

Katie felt the monk behind her push down on another spot in her back, causing all the muscles her body to relax at once. The sudden release made her knees buckled, but the monk kept her standing. Still, Katie did not speak, and neither did Dob. The woman’s mouth hardened into a firm line.

“Very well,” she said, motioning the monks to follow, “if you will not speak to me, perhaps you be more inclined to speak before the Grand Master.”

The woman led them back towards the monastery. The well-trodden path made for an awkward climb with a monk at her back. The monk held her arms in an awkward position behind her, putting a tight strain on tender muscles. She noticed the gentle way in which the monk gripped her wrist. For a moment, she considered making her escape. The moment she shifted her arm she felt something sharp suddenly prick her wrist. No words were uttered, but the protracted claws made the threat clear. It would be a fool’s errand to escape now. One stunning strike was more enough for the day. If they wanted to kick her out, so be it. She would happily take their fight elsewhere if only to be rid of him once and for all. She would deal with the remaining Oxventurers another day.

The sacred silence of the monastery was broken by the sound of their footsteps. Only hours ago, she wandered these welcoming halls, finding comfort in their quaint modesty. Now, she found that the cold grey stone that formed these walls felt more like a tomb than a holy place. A dungeon. A crypt. A place where dead dwelled, not the living. Were the monks truly living? Were their lives not lived like the dead? They were adorned in garbs like shrouds and spoke no words. She had heard whispers amongst the rogues of cultists who worshipped darkness and death. Had she unknowingly stumbled upon them? Her chest felt very tight. Her breath shallowed. Her legs grew weak. The monk at her back pushed her to continue forward into an unfamiliar hall. A restricted hall.

“No,” she murmured, but they continued ahead. Step by step, they treaded down a forbidden path. She had wondered what was hidden within the monastery’s inner sanctuary, but now she had no desire to know. She cast a quick glance to Dob, but his expression was unreadable. Their situation had become quite dire.

They were made to stop at the large set of doors at the end of the hall. The woman knocked loudly, the sound echoing through the hallowed halls. They waited for a moment. Nothing seemed to be happening, but then the doors began to open from within slowly, painfully slowly. Katie flinched as she was pushed forward into the room, but her fear was overcome by awe.

They entered a grand room, one unlike anything she had seen the monastery. It was opulent. Rows of pillars made from beautiful, rich coloured stones that were carved in the likeness of the many races of Geth in all their splendour and glory. The pillars were alit with flames that presented the path before them. The flickering light casted their dancing shadows around the room.

She spied some monks lingering in the darkness, none looking pleased to see them. The light turned her attention away from those watched, and onto the beautiful tapestries that adorned the walls. Tapestries beautifully crafted with vibrant silk threads. The intricate details were hard discerned from a distance, but with her keen eyes, she saw the tale woven in the fabric. Thousands of warriors battling against great beasts – one of silver, one of gold, one of crimson, and one of ebony.

A tale of the order’s fantastical beginnings, perhaps, from a time so long ago there was no one left alive to tell the story, but she knew the truth. The real monsters were not the beasts of tapestries nor the creatures of bardic tales. The real monsters were far more common, like the one standing nearest to her in this room.

The rich scent of myrrh lofted in the air filled her lungs. At the far end of the room was a dais with a grand throne. There was a figure there, but before Katie could get a better look, she was made to kneel with her head bowed.

“Master,” she heard the woman say, “I am sorry to disturb you at such a time, but these guests have violated the peace of your monastery. Amends must be made.”

There was a moment of silence. She felt the monk finally release her, their robes brushing against her as they stepped back. Katie paused for a moment before glancing up. Upon the dais, sitting in her wooden throne, was a dwarven woman, the greys woven in her braided beard betrayed her age. The Grand Master. Katie was surprised to see her adorned in simple robes. Surely, the master of this place should be dressed in finer attire. She stepped off the dais to approach them.

Katie again looked to Dob; his head was still bowed in reverence. The master lifted his chin to study him closely. He looked utterly dejected, like a little boy about to be scolded by his parent. Katie rolled her eyes at the pomposity of it all, but suddenly she felt the strong grip as the grand master’s hand squeezed her jaw. The dwarf stared down at her; she felt as though this woman was staring into her soul.

“They mean us no harm, Saraid,” the master’s voice was slow, but stern. Saraid, the woman in chainmail, frowned.

“Master, forgive me but–” She began, but at a raised hand and she fell silent. 

“You are a talented diviner, Saraid, yet you cannot see. They mean to harm each other, not us,” the master said, letting go of them both. “They must make amends to each other.”

A smug smile formed on Katie’s lips as the woman was put in her place. A simple apology, then she can return to her vacation. So easy. She could be pretty persuasive. She snuck a second glance over at Dob, but to her annoyance, he did not look pleased.  

“They must learn to rely on each other.”

What?

“They will spend three days in the forests.”

Wait-

“Nature brings harmony to all conflicts,” the grand master said. “For within it is the great duality, it is both the nurturer and the executioner. From its bounty, we are sustained, but its wilderness is treacherous and violent. To survive, you must trust each other and work together.”

No way in the nine hells was she- 

“We’ll do it,” said Dob.

“What?” Katie and Saraid said in unison. The master looked pleased at his readiness. Katie stared at Dob, her jaw slack.

What is your game here, Oxventurer?

“Grand Master, are you certain of this?” Saraid quickly moved to the dwarf’s side.

“Do you doubt our guests' abilities?”

“No, but –”

“Then it is my judgment that you question.”

“No!” She looked mortified.

“Saraid, you must trust that things will unfold as fate intends,” she patted her hand gently. “Come, we have much more important matters to discuss. The monks will prepare our guests for their days ahead.” She led the frazzled woman from the room.

The room was filled with a heavy silence. Katie felt a roiling anger deep within her. This idiot ruined her life, and now her vacation. She did not know what tedious activities awaited her, but she was certain of one thing: by the end of the three days, Dob the half-orc bard would be dead. 

--

To aid their time in the wilderness, the monks generously provided them with waterskins and enough rations to get them through the first day. Katie found a small book tucked in with her gift of rations. Its cover was a worn brown leather with the title stamped into it: Green Thumbs, Black Tongues: Forager’s Guide to Toxic Mushrooms and Herbs. A kindness to be sure, but she couldn’t help but feel a little offended. She stowed the book into her bag with the rest of her belongings.

She and Dob set out into the forest with the monks as their guides. Katie found their venture into the woods to be a challenging one. There was nothing to suggest that this was the usual path. There were no stones to mark their way, nor did the ground bare any evidence of a common passage. This was a hidden trail. The path less taken. The underbrush was unruly and unforgiving, which made for a demanding trek and Katie found herself to be quite ill equipped. Having made her way on the city streets, she had never considered herself to be ‘one with the elements’, but she had become comfortable in the Tangle in her short time as Thief Queen. As she tried to catch her breath, she felt the thin air pierce her lungs.

They arrived at a sudden drop, and she watched as the monks descended the decline with an unnatural ease. As a rogue, Katie had always been light in her step, but one wrong move would be treacherous. She began to follow the path of the monk before her, but her eyes spied a protruding rock nearer to her in the ridge. From there, her eyes traced an easier route to the ground. 

Katie pressed her body close to the rugged crag; the dirt felt cold on her cheek. With a careful, outstretched hand, she gripped the stone tightly. She placed her foot gingerly on the next stone. It seemed sturdy, even after she applied some pressure onto it. Feeling confident, she shifted her weight to move across the ridge. She was nearly across when she felt the stone slip out from under her foot.

Her heart leapt from her chest as she began to fall.

A hand from above grabbed her.

“I have you.”

Dob’s voice was like a gentle whisper, but she could see the whites of his wide, panicked eyes. His grip was tight around her wrist. His legs shook as he struggled to maintain his own footing.  She felt one of the monks wrap their arm around her waist. She slipped out of Dob’s hand, and leaned on the monk as they carried her down the remainder of the ridge. It was only with two feet on the ground did she realize she was still trembling from the sudden fright.

“Are you alright?” Dob came to her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. His hands were warm.

What was it to him?

“I am fine. Thanks.” Her voice as brisk as the cool breeze, burning her throat.

She shrugged off his touch and walked nearer to the monks as they continued onwards. They led the group along a path at the river’s edge. It was an easier walk to be certain, but a brisk one. Katie found her feet had grown sore. Her legs still felt weak from the start. The twin suns bore down on her like the searing stares of the gods above. Her breathing grew shallow. She felt lightheaded. The trees that towered above them began to spin. Her heart pounded in her ears. One of the monks reached for her hand, but Katie flinched at the sudden movement. She stumbled into the person behind her. She felt the warm hands on her shoulders.

“We need to stop!” Dob called out.

The warmth of his touch was a begrudging comfort. Katie brought her waterskin to her lips. The cold water was refreshing. She drank eagerly as she leaned against Dob’s chest. Her legs still trembled beneath her. Dob carefully lowered her to the ground to sit and catch her breath. The monk sat down next to her, watching with a concerned expression. She continued to drink deeply. Her heartbeat began to slow as did her breathing.

After a moment of rest, the monks readied themselves to set out once more. Katie went to stand, but the monk motioned for her to stay. They had gone far enough it would seem. Or perhaps as far as she could go… The monks bid them silent farewells and made their return to the monastery. Katie and Dob were now very much alone.

Katie went to take another swig from her waterskin. Dob put his hand over the opening.

“I would save that for later,” he said. She lowered the waterskin.

“Don’t you have some sort of spell to make water?” She asked.

“No, that’s sort of a Druid thing,” he replied, somewhat wistfully. Katie rolled her eyes.

“I thought bards could just play a tune and make whatever they wanted happen.” She shoved her waterskin into her bag. Annoyingly, he was right. “What’s the point in magic if you can’t do anything useful?” She saw his brow furrow. Perhaps he was thinking of something clever to say in response, but she was quicker to the draw.

“Why don’t you get started on building us a fire?” She continued, ruefully. “Might as well do something useful seeing as you are the one who got us into this mess.” She smirked at his frown; clearly, someone didn’t like to be told what to do.

“Actually, we need to build our shelters first.”

Oh.

He threw down his bag and began riffling through it, only to pull out a bundle of twine and a knife. “We will need some large logs for the structure, leaves and pine needles for the ground and coverage…” Katie felt her stomach sink as he listed off materials. This was beginning to sound like a lot of work. “Why don’t you gather some sticks and logs for a fire? I can gather what I need to build the shelters,” Dob said, bringing her back to him. He gave her an encouraging smile that veered dangerously into condescension.

“Yeah, sure…”

An easy task, she thought. He pointed out some landmarks to help her to find the camp on her way back. She nodded along, but she felt a growing annoyance in her gut as he listed off instructions. He explained what kind of sticks she needed to look for in egregious detail: dry, long, thin…

“I can collect firewood, Dob. I have camped before.”

With little word more, she set off to begin her search for long, dry and skinny sticks. Gods, he was such a self-aggrandizing brat. She gathered the sticks that she found in a pile. Maybe he was abandoned by the other Oxventurers. She wouldn’t have blamed them if they had. Why else would he have come alone?

She spotted the perfect stick. She grabbed it to add to the others, but it was stuck. She tugged it; it wouldn’t budge.

Acting like he knew what was best…

She tugged a little harder.

Who was he to give her orders? She was the Thief Queen!

She yanked on the stick. The stick didn’t move. The bark scraped her hands as she fell backwards onto the hard ground. She let out a frustrated scream that almost felt like a cry. What was she doing? She became queen so that she wouldn’t have to do this kind of work anymore. He should be the one gathering the firewood, building the shelters, gathering food… It was his fault that they were in this mess. He started the fight, he said yes to the grand master, so he should be the one to do these things. Not her!

She steadied her nerves. Crying wouldn’t bring an end to her troubles. Besides, she had been in far worse situations. She had gone hungry, cold, and spent many nights in the streets. She’d been swindled and cheated more times than she could count…

Two nights in a forest, even with him, was nothing compared to all that. She picked herself up and wiped the dirt from her hands and clothes. As she went to gather her bundle of sticks, she froze. There was something rustling in the bushes nearby. She crouched down and crept towards the noise. She peered out from behind a tree. There, in the clearing ahead, was a large, burly boar. Time to show the bard how useful she could be. She quietly took out her crossbow, and held the boar in her aim, waiting for the right moment… The boar wandered further into the clearing with its back to her.

She watched her prey with bated breath.  

Exhale, then release.

The arrowhead pierced the thick hind. The boar squealed in pain. Another bolt. The boar’s high-pitched squeal pierced the air.

Alert to its danger, the boar ran into the forest. Katie took off after it. She dashed through the trees and slid under some greenery. She spotted the nervous boar. She raised her crossbow again. She shot another bolt, but she missed.

Dammit!

She hastily readied another arrow, as she looked up, she saw the boar charging at her. She heard her own scream echo through the forest as she was impaled on the boar’s tusks. They pierced through her leather armour to her stomach. The boar lifted her up. Its sharp tusks dug in deeper. It tossed her to the side; the tusks ripping the soft flesh.

She hit the ground hard, but the boar was not finished with her yet.

It pawed the ground. She scrambled backwards, but the boar charged again, trampling her under heavy hooves. She heard the sickening crunch before she felt the pain as the bones in her arm were crushed under hooves. In desperation, she grabbed her knife and stabbed wildly into the boar, but this only served to enrage it further. The beast opened its maw; great teeth bearing down at her. Wide eyes saw only the blackness which would consume her.

Only seconds left now.

She closed her eyes, bracing for the final strike. She heard it was like falling asleep. She silently prayed to the gods above that the boar would hit a vital vein.

End it quick, she thought.

Foolish girl for taking the first shot.

Breath in, and…

The boar’s sudden screech shattered her thoughts.

Katie’s eyes snapped opened. The boar was no longer above her. Dob wrestled the boar away from her. He had the beast grappled on the ground, his strong arms and legs wrapped tightly around its body. It squirmed and struggled against his strength, but its attempts to break free were futile. With one arm holding its head still, the other made for his knife. He dug the knife into the beast’s thick flesh. It squealed at the pain. In a single, strained movement, Dob slit open the boar’s throat. Its last cry was bridled by the sudden gush of blood. Its body then grew very still.

Panting heavily, Dob pushed the limp carcass off him. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Her own breathing had grown hoarse, and her head felt heavy. She suddenly realized how tired she was. Perhaps she could sleep. Sleep would make her feel better. Keeping her eyes open felt like an impossible task. Breathing was getting harder. She felt very cold. She tried to shift her body, but the sudden sharp pain stopped her. A shocked cry left her lips.

There was some rustling nearby. Something was approaching her. She felt sudden pressure on her chest. She tried to get up. There was another terrible pain in her arm. She barely could utter a sound. Blearily, she opened her eyes to see a pair of bright blue eyes above her.

“I have you.”

His voice was so tender. Next came a quiet string of words she couldn’t make out sung to a pretty melody. She felt a warmth spread through her which seemed to come from the song itself.

A soft sigh escaped her.

She felt…

So warm.

--

The soft crackling of a nearby fire stirred her from her rest. Katie was slow to wake; her body felt heavy and her mind groggy. She rubbed the weariness from her eyes and took in her new surroundings. Her bedroll was carefully set up inside the erected shelter of sticks, brush, and twine. Beneath her was a carefully sorted pile of leaves and pine needles, which she found to be quite cushiony. She did not feel the customary aches in her body that she had grown to associate with sleeping on the hard, cold ground. She stretched her weary body –

The boar!

Thoughts of her last moments rushed through mind like an icy wave. Her stomach twisted at the painful memory. She tossed back the blanket to see… nothing. Her cotton tunic was perfectly intact. She frantically felt about her torso. No bandages. No wound. Nothing.

“You’re awake!” She turned to see Dob sitting by the fire, tending to a pot above the flames.

At the sound of his voice, Katie recalled the warmth she felt in her last waking moments. A shiver ran up her spine. She wasn’t familiar with such magic. She had seen many a rogue cast illusory spells, but evocations sung by a beautiful, sweet voice… It was a bit much in her opinion.

Gods, his magic was as irritating as he was.

“Are you hungry?” Dob held up a small metal cup. The smell of something savoury wafted towards her, making her stomach growl painfully.

“How long was I out for?” Katie asked, taking the cup of mysterious liquid from him. His brow furrowed.

“Not sure, maybe three hours? Not a long rest,” he mused, before taking a sip from his own cup. She followed his lead. The metal was hot from its contents, which turned out to be a mushroom stew. It wasn’t much, but her hunger was satiated just enough. She cast her eyes about their camp. The fire was carefully place in the center of the clearing with logs evidently dragged from somewhere else for them to sit with an ample supply of wood to maintain the fire nearby. Opposite to her shelter was the skeleton of a second one. He made hers first. She felt a heat creep up into her neck.

Gods, he really thought she was useless, didn’t he?

“Thank you,” she mumbled into her cup. Her voice no more than a scarce whisper over the crackling of the flames.

“Do you like it? It’s a little bland. I had hoped to find more herbs, but I didn’t want to go far from you…” He trailed off, letting the words linger in the air between them.

“So, how did you learn to do all this sort of stuff? Did the druid girl teach you?” Katie asked, her voice feeling tight in her own throat.

“Merilwen? No, no I learned this all when I was a kid. A bit of trial and error, but eventually I figured out how to make a proper shelter. Could’ve done without so many hard lessons, though. It’s real hard to dry your bed roll after it rains with only a small fire.”

“What kind of parents leave their kid to fend for himself in the woods?” She scoffed but Dob didn’t answer her tripe so readily.

“My parents weren’t around when I was a kid,” he said, quietly. “They died when I was young. My sister raised me herself ‘til I got sick, then she left to find me a cure. She left but didn’t come back, so I set out on an adventure to find her.” Katie felt her stomach sink.

“And here I thought you were just your average upstart adventurer…” She murmured, after a long pause, to which Dob grimly laughed.

“Not so average, perhaps. What about you?” He pressed. “Any brothers or sisters?”

“Why do you care?” She said, dismissively, trying to stifle his curiosity, but he was as persistent as ever.

“It’s only fair, after all I told you my story. Aren’t we supposed to share?” 

“Resources, not stories.”

“That too. I mean if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, but it’ll be a long few days in the woods-”

“Fine! Fine,” she conceded, “and if you must know, you aren’t the only one here with a tragic backstory.”

She took a swig from her cup, drinking the last of her stew. Dob offered a ladle more, and she hungrily accepted.

“I grew up in Port Fairwind. My father was a sailor and my mother worked odd jobs in the city. We were able to make ends meet well enough, but then my mother got sick. We needed money, so father took on a big job. He was gone for months, and we wouldn’t see a copper ‘til he got back, so it was up to me to care for her. I was always good at a little sleight of hand, but then I perfected it. I got us by while we waited for him to come home. He was supposed to come home…” Her voice shook slightly at the memory, but she pushed on.

“The ship sank off the northern coast. Mother died not long after we got the news, and I was on the streets,” she said, rather hurriedly. “The gangs never took much notice of me. That was until I pickpocketed the wrong guy, but he was so impressed that he gave me a job, and then my own crew. And ever since then, I have been slowly working my way to become the Thief Queen.”  

She finished her story and took another sip from her metal cup; the stew was still scalding. It burned her throat as she swallowed. It had occurred to her that not even her crew mates knew that story and now Dob’s rather pointed silence made her feel exposed… 

“Katie,” he began in a soft voice that sparked a sudden rage in her. She would not be pitied.

“Teach me,” she demanded, cutting down his words before they could even be uttered.

“Sorry?”

“Teach me how to survive in the woods. That’s what you agreed to, isn’t it? I shared my story, so you need to share resources. make yourself useful and teach me.” She almost spat the words at him, and she watched as he mulled over her words.

“Alright,” he said, getting to his feet. “Let’s start on the first thing you’ll need to make: shelter. You can find food, you can find water, but if you don’t have a shelter, you won’t survive the elements. So, to begin….”

In the remaining hours of sunlight, Dob made himself useful and taught her how to make her own shelter. He showed her how to take advantage of the natural surroundings, what materials she would need to gather, and what she could use from what she had on hand. It had been a long time since she allowed anyone to tell her what to do, but she found her curiosity outweighed her pride. This was a useful skill, and for all his annoyances, Dob was a surprisingly patient teacher. He took care to show her how to do something and allowed her to do it on her own. He would correct her mistakes and share his wisdom when she struggled. With careful hands and some hempen rope, they managed to build a stable shelter together before the twin suns had set.

“Tomorrow, we can forage for wild mushrooms, roots, nuts, and berries,” Dob said, kneeling by the fire pit. He piled new logs atop the ashes, and she watched as he produced a tiny flame at the edge of his finger. The dry wood caught aflame quickly. He began to tend to the remaining mushroom stew in the pot. However, the stew had now grown cold and thick in their absence. If it had been unsavoury before, it had now become inedible. Somewhat defeated, he waved his hand over the pot, causing the pot to be magically cleared of its contents.

“I guess we will be digging into our rations tonight,” he said with a sigh. From his bag, he produced two small loaves, and handed her one. Her fingers brushed against his as she took what he offered. He settled in next to her on the log, so close she could feel the warmth from his body. She shifted away from him ever so slightly. Something about him sitting so close made her feel odd. She felt the goose flesh spreading across her skin and a nervousness that stirred deep within her gut at his touch. “I know it’s not much, but it’s something.”

Yeah, it certainly was something.

--

Morning’s sunlight fractured through breaks in the forests’ dense canopy, signaling the start of their second day. Katie had already been awake for some time when she heard Dob stirring from his side of the camp. She had been thumbing through the pages of the monk’s book, hoping to be a little more prepared for today’s venture. They shared another loaf for breakfast and Dob smothered the last of the embers before they set off for the day.

Foraging was more work than she anticipated. For the hours they spent scrounging along the forest floor, they did not find much to eat. More than once, Dob had saved her from picking a deadly fungus almost identical in appearance to another they had just picked.

“Careful,” Dob said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the simple white mushroom she had been reaching for. “That’s the Fool, and a deadly one at that.” His voice was no more than whisper, as though speaking too loudly would invoke something terrible.

“How can you tell?” She whispered back, incredulously. Without touching it, Dob drew her attention to the thin membrane draping like white veil around its stalk.

“The Fool’s veil,” he murmured. “Eat enough of those and you’ll be dead before the third day dawns.” Katie shuddered at the thought. A long-drawn-out death is an unpleasant one. She preferred to kill her enemies quickly; they deserved that at least.

They continued their trek through the woods, reaving from nature what they could and chatting all the while. Now that they weren’t at each others’ throats, Katie found him to be quite funny, if not a little charming. He made her laugh so hard she had nearly dropped the berries they had just painstakingly plucked from a thorn bush.

“Whoa, we can’t lose our dessert!” He said, half-laughing while trying to catch her in his arms.

“A lake? You threw all the gold in a lake? Why?” The laughter had brought tears to her eyes.

“When you say it like that it sounds rather silly, but it was for safe keeping! How many people do you know search lakes for gold?”

“When you put it like that it sounds like a flawless idea,” she said, still giggling. He scoffed, but she saw the smile he was trying so desperately to hide. It wasn’t a bad idea, she contended silently. The lake would have to be emptied of all the water to steal that plunder, and how many casters would you need to drain a lake? Probably many, and as he said, who would go looking for treasure in a lake?

They returned to camp with their finds for the day. The suns had begun their descent and were drawing nearer to the horizon. Dob began to prepare their meal as Katie set off for more firewood. She gathered what she could find, and as she began to head back, some movement in the brush caught her eye.

A large boar, but smaller than the one she had seen the day before, was wandering through the trees, looking for something to eat – mushrooms, roots, fallen fruits… Katie quietly put down the wood, and crept towards the boar. She kept her distance, but never lost sight of the creature. She followed it as it continued to meander through the underbrush. Eventually, it led her to a babbling stream. She watched as it drank eagerly before bounding off deep into the woods. She knelt at the stream’s edge and filled their waterskins with the cool waters. Perhaps she could be useful after all.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in the Ailbhe Mountains

Ten days before the events at Necropolis-on-Sea…

Dob was restless. Katie had volunteered to take the first watch so that he could sleep after a long day, but as he laid next to their campfire’s lingering embers, he found that sleep evaded him. Even in his reliable bedroll, on which he could always find a comfortable position, he seemed to feel every pointed edge on every rock beneath him. He shifted his body, desperate to find a comfortable enough position to finally find some sleep, but it was in vain.

Perhaps it was not the rocks that kept him awake, maybe it was the quiet. While Katie had certainly grown warmer to him since the attack, he felt the chill in her curt replies to his many attempts at conversation. The quiet only seemed to exasperate the distance between them. It was such a stark difference from the company he normally kept. He had grown accustomed to the Guild’s way of doing things, which was always boisterous. Their rowdiness often continued long into the night – Corazon always had one more story to tell, and his voice could carry easily over Egbert’s snores. Prudence always had a witty reply at the ready, and Merilwen, an exasperated objection. All the while, Dob would quietly pluck at his lute, providing a little musical accompaniment to their many noises. Then, one by one, they would all fall asleep, with Dob always the last to join them in slumber. There was a great comfort to be had in drifting off to sleep surrounded by the company of his friends. A comfort he now sorely missed.

His mind turned to times before the Guild, recalling how Suzette would tell him stories to lull him to sleep. His favourite were her stories of the great heroes from long ago like Olwen Lightfoot, and Tytus the Bold. And on the nights her stories failed, nights much like this one, she would sing him to sleep. For a fleeting moment, Dob felt a small warmth spread through his chest as he recalled the sweetness of her voice and the lullaby, he knew all too well. A lullaby he would often hum to himself in moments of quiet contemplation. However, he did not feel that such an act would be welcomed in his present company.

With a heavy sigh, Dob rolled over onto his back and turned his gaze above him. He winced as another one of those damned rocks stabbed into him. But the sight of the night sky above him turned his mind away from all present thoughts and feelings as he was suddenly awestruck. Shades of indigo and azure blended into violets to form a beautiful dark velvet canvas adorned with stars that sparkled like diamonds. It was… breathtaking.

Such a beautiful sight, yet he could not help but think of another great beauty. He tried not to entertain thoughts of Liliana, but in moments such as this it was hard not to think of her. He could not help but wonder if the tonight’s sky inspired in her the same feelings as it did him? When she first arrived on the surface, and saw the sky for the first time was she filled with wonder? Amazement? And how did she navigate her new surroundings? The image of a curious Liliana was a delightful one that filled him with a giddy warmth, but those feelings were quickly dashed at the thought of her struggling against the harsh elements like he did as a boy. Had someone taught her how to survive in the surface’s forests the same way he taught Katie today? Or had she learned how to survive the hard way like he did?

He knew he would never know the answers to such questions, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. He would often find himself turning to thoughts of Liliana. Sometimes, these thoughts were commonplace, like whether Liliana had been to the town they had arrived in, or when he composed a new piece, he imagined playing it for her and whether she would like it. Others were not so commonplace. However his opportunities for privacy were rare, so such thoughts were seldom entertained. No matter their nature, he knew he could not voice any of these thoughts aloud, unless he wished to endure the endless ridicule of his friends. They didn’t understand his feelings for her, and in truth, he didn’t really understand them either. He couldn’t help how he felt, how she made him feel… But tonight, in the absence of his friends and sleep, he could let himself wonder as he liked.

One fact that always seemed to nag at Dob was that in all his travels throughout Geth, he had never met a Drow before encountering Liliana, nor had he seen another he since. It seemed to him then that she was truly on her own. Maybe she had escaped a terrible fate and only came to the surface as her last refuge. Perhaps being frightened and alone in this world drove her to do the things she did. He knew all too well what it was to be alone in this world. It was a feeling he would never want to know again. 

He had been so lucky that he found his friends. They might not have known it when they first met, but they were truly like a family. It was only because they were together that they had become the heroes they were known as in most of realm today. He could not imagine where he would be without the Guild. But Katie, Liliana… who did they have? Would things have been different for them if they had found what he did?

“Dob?”

Katie’s voice from the dark gave him a start and yanked him from his thoughts.

“Do you see something?” He replied in hush tones once his heart and nerves had settled.

“No,” she said, and she was quiet once more, until again her voice came to him.

“Dob?”

“Yes, Katie?”

“Why did you save me?”

Her question had caught him off-guard.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You saved me from the boar even though it was the perfect opportunity to get rid of me. A foolish mistake that became a fatal accident. Happens all the time,” she said, her voice sounded hollow. “There would be no retribution, not by the monks, not by my court, not by anyone. So, why not let me die?”

“I-I don’t know…” he answered lamely, yet truthfully. He thought he heard her quietly scoff at his reply. “It is the truth, Katie! I swear it! I don’t know… I just know that I couldn’t just let it happen.”

“You expect me to believe that you suddenly had the urge to save me? When only four suns ago you were trying to kill me?”

For a brief second, he could recall the terror that struck when he heard her scream. The scream that cut through the air. That pierced his heart. 

“Yes,” he simply said. Now he was certain of her scoff.

“Forgive my doubt,” she said, her voice ladened with a sarcastic tone.

“I cannot explain why, but I had to…” he began, feeling the urge to defend his heroic deed. “When I heard you scream, I was so afraid in that moment. More afraid than I had ever been. All I could think was that I needed to get to you. I had to because if something terrible happened to you, it was because of me… I dragged us into this mess. It was my fault! I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. I don’t know how I could…”

The words tumbled off his lips revealing to his own surprise a very hidden truth: he wanted her to live. He couldn’t be sure exactly why, but he felt it deeply. He had that certainty at least.

“Always playing the hero, aren’t you?” To his bewilderment, he seemed to have only made her angrier.

“I don’t think I am playing at anything,” he said, quietly.

“So, you save all your enemies then?”

“No, just you.”

She had no sharp rebuttal to that.

“You are pretty special, then,” he said to the darkness. Perhaps he shared too much, but he was never one to hold back.

“Thank you.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear. 

A silence had settled between them once more, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much now as he was finally able to drift into a deep sleep.   

--

Silver hair beneath his fingertips, brush of skin against skin, and a voice that whispered gently into his ear. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, her lips. She returned his with her own upon him.

“Dob…” She moaned his name; her voice softer than the silk that adorned her body. His eyes met hers. Grey, like that of the morning mists.

“Dob…” The voice which spoke did not sound like hers.

“Dob!” It came again. 

Dob awoke with a start to see Katie standing above him.

“Dob,” she called to him, and he groaned in reply. Was it his turn to keep watch? Surely, it was too soon. He had only just fallen asleep! He blinked repeatedly until his eyes adjusted to the dark.

The last embers had died. Under the moonlight, Katie looked like a spectre with her hair loose around her shoulders like a silvery veil and dressed only in her long, white tunic. She had readied herself for bed and brought an abrupt end to his sweet sleep.

“Alright, I’ll get up,” he grumbled, begrudgingly tossing back his covers.

She said nothing and straddled his lap.

“What are you –” He started, but Katie kissed him, quickly answering his unfinished question.

He could feel her hesitation. Her body was stiff and awkward, but her kiss was determined. Confused, he kissed her back. He placed his hands on the small of her back. She was trembling, but whether it was from his touch or from the cold night air, he didn’t know. He pulled her in closer share the warmth of his body, and she came to him eagerly.

There was no hesitation from her now.

She lifted his tunic above his head and tossed it to the side; her hands eager to explore his body. She ran her hands up his torso, tracing her fingers along every muscle as she went. She pressed her body to his, and, straddling him still, she began to move her hips, slowly increasing in tempo. He could feel the heat from her body through the little fabric that separated them.  

He abandoned her lips to kiss her neck, finding pleasure in her delighted gasps. The heat in his belly spurred him on as his hands caressed her, making their way to her most sensitive parts. Her gasps turned to moans as his fingers which so often strummed his lute made easy her pleasure. Her mouth sought desperately for his; kissing him clumsily once found. He felt the rumble in her chest as she smothered her moans upon his skin.

Katie made quick work of the lacing on his trousers. Her nimble fingers found him wanting beneath the cloth. It would not take much more to ready him, but she made him a patient man. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her sweat on her skin. He wove his fingers through her hair. Soft like a silvery silk. His tusks dug into her skin as he suppressed an anguished groan at her persistent teasing. Still, she seemed not satisfied to give him release. Seeking to turn the tides in his favour, he took off her tunic and brought his lips to her breasts. He smiled at how quickly she responded to his touch, which only persuaded him further, applying all that he knew to heighten her pleasure.

However hot he made her; the cold air still gave her cause to shiver. He would see that remedied. With his hands on her hips, he shifted their positions and settled her comfortably on the bedroll, retrieving the blanket to cover them. He took in the sight of her. Her tousled hair, lips swollen from his kisses, bare round breasts heaving from a shared ecstasy, skin that bore scars of a hardened life… all the parts of her she shared with him so willingly now.

He placed a tender kiss upon the lips of the woman who only four suns ago wanted him dead. His fingers set to work on preparing her for him in his fullness. She pulled away from his kiss, with frantic whispers imploring for more. She held his hips to guide him to her and pulled him in close with a caught breath. She let him do the work, setting the tempo, letting her body guide him to her satisfaction. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him. Her moans echoed in his ears, her hair woven between his fingers, her skin on his lips, her pleasure shared with his. She moved her hips in a corresponding rhythm with him as her moans grew louder. He felt her muscle tense around him, squeezing him. He began to quicken his pace, eager to reach the end. She cried out in a delirious pleasure, a sweet release, as he reached his own.

With a pleased sigh, he laid next to her on the bedroll, spreading the blanket to cover the two of them. She nestled into his chest, with his arms around her. He thought he might say something, but she left him at a loss for words, so he kissed her gently on the forehead and held her tightly as he drifted off to a satisfied sleep.

--

Dob was woken by the sound the cheerful chirping of late morning birds, and while he could not see the suns’ positions through the forest’s canopy, he knew they had been long in the sky. Beside him, Katie still slept peacefully; her golden hair cascaded around her head like a halo. He slowly got up from the bedroll, careful not to disturb her slumber, and tucked the blanket around her to keep her warm. He fixed his attire, finding his tunic nearby the campfire, and quickly gathered her clothes to place near his bedroll. As he knelt beside her, the bundle in hand, the surprising events of the night before played through his mind. The taste of her sweat, the sound of her moans, the feel of her skin…

Katie suddenly stirred in the bedroll, perhaps noticing he wasn’t beside her. She looked to him, her face scrunched up in sleepy confusion. “What are you…?” She began, but he quickly interrupted her.

“You stay in bed. I am going to find us some breakfast,” he said. He leaned down and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She seemed surprised at the sudden affection and looked as though she was only just now recalling prior night’s activities. He left her to ready herself for the day and set off to find something for breakfast.

He was more than certain they had some bread left from the provided rations, but it would be wise to find them something hearty to eat. Something to give them energy, given everything they had done the day before. He bit the inside of his cheek, ignoring the heat in his belly.  

He pushed the thoughts from his mind to focus on the task at hand. They needed something to eat to see them through the day. Today they were hiking back to the monastery. Today was their last day together. A new feeling quickly replaced what had been stirring in his belly as this thought came to him. He had to find something nice. Their last meal together would not be a bland concoction of whatever mushrooms he managed to scavenge from the forest floor. With purpose, Dob pushed onwards through the forest with his eyes cast upwards, not down. Eventually, he found what he was looking for high in a tree, and with a smile, he began his ascent to retrieve it.

--

Dob returned to the camp to find that Katie had mostly dismantled it. She had taken apart their shelters and everything of hers had been stowed away in her bag with her bedroll secured atop. He found his things neatly laid out on his bedroll, ready to be packed away. She had even restarted their campfire to cook their breakfast. He found her sitting by the fire, reading from a small book which she hastily put away when she saw him approach.

“What did you find us?” She asked as he settled on the log next to her. He opened his satchel to reveal to her his finds: three large, brown-spotted eggs, along with pickings of wild garlic leaves and herbs for flavour. Dob busied himself with preparing breakfast while Katie grabbed the last of their rations to divide between them. It was not long before their hunger was satiated by boiled bird eggs topped with herbs on near-stale bread. It wasn’t the finest of meals but Dob felt like it was the first meal he had enjoyed in some time.

With their bellies partially full, and their bags packed, Dob and Katie began their return. He took the lead, seeking out recognizable landmarks from their journey. They walked along the river’s edge with the suns to their back until they reached the craggy hillside. Dob helped Katie up the rocks from below, pointing out sturdy rocks, and readying himself to catch her should she fall. After they had both successfully made it up the hillside, Katie called for a rest. They sat on the hill’s edge to drink the last of their water. He couldn’t help but notice her golden hair, which hung loosely around her shoulders, glistened in the sun’s light.

“What?” She caught him staring. Her tone was a little sharp. 

“Nothing,” he said, hurriedly, feeling a heat rush into his cheeks under her stare. “Your hair,” he started, slowly and he saw how her eyes narrowed, “would you let me braid it? I am quite good at it,” he continued, “I braid Merilwen’s hair for her all the time. Keeps it out of the way of branches-”

“Well, if you do it for Merilwen, I suppose I could let you do it for me.” He thought he caught some ice in her tone, but she shifted her position, presenting her golden locks to him. He dug out a comb and some string from his bag and began to comb through her hair, gently detangling any knots that he found. He set aside the comb and divided her hair into three equal parts. Her long, golden hair was soft to the touch. He noticed how the tension in her shoulders seemed to lessen as he began to weave her hair into a simple braid. He secured the plait with the string, tying it into a neat bow. Katie reached her hand up to feel the braid, brushing her fingers against his as she assessed the quality of his work.

“How do I look?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Beautiful, like a queen,” he answered, turning her cheeks a little pink. He smiled at her He leaned in, his eyes upon her lips… but she pulled away from him suddenly.  

“We should get going,” she said, getting to her feet quickly.

“Katie,” he started, but she continued.

“Half the day is already gone based on the suns' positionings in the sky; we need to make haste if we are going to get back to the monastery before nightfall.”

“Katie–”

In long strides, she began to walk down the path ahead of him.

“Katie!” He shouted after her. She stopped but did not turn to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, defiantly.

“No, you know what I mean. You are acting weird, like, like last night didn’t happen.” At this, he saw her falter slightly, only for her expression to harden. “Did I do something wrong? Have I offended you in some way?”

“Dob,” she began, her tone sounded somewhat patronizing, “you know what happens when we return to the monastery.”

“No, I don’t. Care to explain?”

“Everything goes back to the way it was. I hate you and you hate me, and we are trying to kill each other just as it was before.”

“No,” he said, feeling a sudden pain in his chest, “it can’t go back to the way it was. At least not for me! Because I thought things had changed between us. I thought we were getting along. I thought that last night meant something…”

“Dob,” she began, somewhat gently, yet patronizing still, “what did you expect to happen when we return? That all would be forgive between us, and that we would be together?”  

“Yes! Well, maybe not exactly like that, but I like you, and I thought you liked me.” She didn’t deny it. “Don’t pull away from me, from us, at least not until you have heard what I have to say,” he said, gently, cupping her face in his hands, turning her gaze to his. “Run away with me,” he whispered; the words felt oddly familiar on his tongue. For the briefest of moments, he recalled kneeling before Liliana and pleading with her all the same. His heart pounded in his chest. He could almost feel her beautiful grey eyes bearing down on him. But that had only been a ruse. A mere distraction for a greater cause. This moment was nothing like that! This was a moment of honesty and from his heart. She was the greater cause!

“Run away to where?” Katie asked, her nervous laughter barely contained, no doubt surprised by his proposition.

“I don’t know. Anywhere! Everywhere!” He said, feeling emboldened. The words just seemed to tumble from his lips with no thoughts to accompany them. Her blue eyes were sparkling as she gazed up at him. “Wherever I go next, whatever I do next, I want you there by my side. I want to share everything with you. I don’t want to lose you.”

He couldn’t lose her.

He couldn’t lose this chance for something that could be beautiful. Something that could be real.   

“What are you saying?” She asked, her tone more serious now.

“I think I am asking you to marry me,” Dob answered. It was an absurd idea to even consider it, but he had already uttered it.  

“Then ask me proper,” she instructed him. He was nearly dumbstruck by her lack of refusal, but he knelt before her, took her hands in his, and with a smile, asked as she commanded him.

“Katie, queen of thieves, will you marry me?”

She placed a tender kiss upon his lips, pulling away to reveal a delighted smile.

“Yes.”

--

Hand in hand, Dob and Katie arrived back at the monastery just as the twin suns were lowering below the horizon, painting the evening sky in shades of oranges, pinks, purples and blues that blended to display the most glorious of sunsets.

The monks who had led them into the forests the days before were the first to greet them as they entered the monastery’s hallowed halls. Dob noticed their puzzled expressions as their gazes settled upon their entwined hands. Dob felt Katie give his hand a small squeeze; he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb in comfort. Their steps echoed through the silent halls as they traversed a familiar path.

Once again, Dob found himself outside the grand doors to the inner sanctum with Katie at his side, but this time, he held his head high. The tabaxi monk knocked on the oak doors, and once more Dob watched as they slowly opened, and smelled the heavy scent of myrrh that lofted from the room before them. He and Katie followed the monks in, down the path lined by stone pillars to the dais at the end of the room. Dob knelt before the grand master upon her wooden throne.

“Welcome back,” the master said, sounding quite pleased to see them. “I hope you found your time spent in the forest enlightening. Have you made your reparations to each other?”

“Yes, Grand Master, we have,” Dob replied with a knowing grin. The old dwarf returned his smile with one of her own.

“Wonderful! Since you have made your reparations, peace has been restored to the monastery once more, and you are welcome to continue your stays here.”

“Actually, Grand Master, if I may?” Dob interjected, feeling a rising sense of urgency. He noticed her expression shift slightly, but she nodded and gestured for him to proceed. “Thank you for your hospitality, but Katie and I are hoping to make our departure shortly.”

“Are you certain? Nightfall is soon approaching, and the roads may not be safe for your travels.”

“We are certain. There is an important matter that we must address swiftly.” He saw the grand master’s brow furrow as her expression turned to that of worry.

“I see, well, at least let us aid you in your quest with the provisions we can spare.” The grand master gestured to the monks nearest to her, who promptly left the room. “We can also send some monks to accompany you through the mountains, but they can go no further than her foot.”

“Thank you, Grand Master, but we have one more request,” he said, “could we speak to that woman… Saraid, was it? The woman who brought us to you a few days ago?”

Looking more puzzled than before, the Grand Master complied and sent monks to collect the woman. They were not waiting long before they heard her assertive steps echoing through the halls. Saraid made her way towards to dais, casting a glance to Dob and Katie as she passed them.

“You summoned me, Grand Master?” She knelt before the greatly revered woman, but the dwarf shook her head and gestured to the two of them. “Glad to see you are still alive,” she began, although her tone sounded quite annoyed, “how might I be of service to you?”

“We wanted to thank you,” Katie said much to Saraid’s bewilderment, “because of you, we have seen the errors of our ways and have since mended things between us.” She gave Dob a glowing smile as he nodded for her to continue. With a deep breath, Katie continued. “We felt we owed so much to you that we wanted to ask if you would be the one to marry us?”

“What a wonderful turn of events, don’t you think, Saraid?” The grand master said, looking quite amused by their announcement, but Saraid looked more confused that joyous.

“You want me to perform the marriage ceremony? Now?” She asked once the shock had worn off. “How did–?”

“Oh, no, not now!” Katie said with a laugh. “We have so much that we need to settle first; when the ceremony will be, where it’ll be, the food, the dress, who will be in attendance– Gods, this is going to be expensive–”

“More importantly, there are some people we wish to share this news with,” Dob said, gently tucking Katie’s hand into the crook of his arm. For the first time, he felt nervous. How was the rest of the Guild going to take this?

“I see,” Saraid said wearily, rubbing her eyes. Only now did Dob notice how tired she looked. Her eyes were ladened with heavy bags, her skin pallid, and the tips of her fingers had turned black, possibly from ink stains. “Yes, I can conduct the ceremony if that is what you wish. As a paladin, it is well within my duties to provide such services to, well, people such as you.”

A paladin? So, she wasn’t a monk-in-training. What was a paladin doing here?

“What order are y–?” Dob started, but Saraid cut across him.

“I would love to talk further,” she said with a strained smile that betrayed her lie, “but there are urgent matters that require my attention that I must return to. Grand Master, with your permission.” With a dismissal obtained, Saraid gave them a curt nod, turned on her heel and left the room, her heavy footsteps trailing off.

In time, the monks returned with the provisions needed for the journey ahead. As they set out on the mountain’s road, Dob decided to lead their party up the northern path.

“North? Should we not go south? You know, towards the Tangle?” Katie challenged after learning of his plan.

“No, we need to go north to the Lake District,” he said, “as I think you are in need of a ring, would you disagree?” He snatched Katie’s hand, the hand on which he had tied a string around her finger to signify his promise to her. He placed upon it a firm kiss. She laughed, the sound like a bell, clear and bright. The sound was a new delight for him and he couldn’t wait to hear it for the rest of his life. He would soon be hers, and nothing could part them from this day until his last.  

Chapter Text

Port Fairwind, Southern Geth

The day of the events at Necropolis-on-Sea…

If Katie was being honest, she would admit that she was more worried about the Oxventurers’ reactions to their engagement than the reaction from her Court. She would admit that the only thing keeping her nerves steady was the encouragement of her betrothed. She would admit that she was beginning to feel excited about their pending nuptials, about being married to him. With each day, she discovered a new part of him that delighted her. But as the dust would settle, Katie was left with a glaring truth: honesty was a stranger to her.

After choosing the perfect ring from the Oxenturers’ vast treasure and the laborious task of relocating the gold to another lake, Katie and Dob set out to find the rest of his guild. It took some time, but eventually they came across a barkeep who confirmed that he had seen a group of travellers of the guild’s likeness going west to Port Fairwind in a hurry. Katie inquired about what their purpose was in the city but Dob had little answers for her. Last he knew, the guild was on the hunt for the missing pieces of a puzzle sphere, but what it contained, he did not know. She proposed that maybe they were heading to Port Fairwind to have the sphere’s treasure appraised to an incredulous look from him. In any case, she had reminded him, if what was inside was indeed valuable, they would still need to share it with him. Even if he hadn’t been there when they acquired it. What belonged to one, belonged to all. Guild code mandated it so. Dob persisted that there would be no such issue, and that rather their focus should be on how they would find them once they arrived. However, upon arriving in Port Fairwind, it was apparent that would not be a difficult task.

Katie was aghast. She had never seen the city in such state of carnage. White cobblestones stained dark red, broken furniture abound, iron cauldrons cast aside, and a slow growing mob of people with rage in their eyes and pitchforks in their hands.

“Dob,” she said, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He did not respond and pulled himself from her grip. He made his way through the crowd and leaving her behind to make her own way. She pushed through the crowd after him and eventually made her way to the front to see him reunited with his guild. She watched with pride as he calmed the mob with a single spell, causing the crowd to slowly disperse. The guild seemed eager to welcome him back. She had no doubt they were grateful for his perfectly timed arrival, as it seemed to her that they had been in much need of his aid. It was clear her fiancé was an essential part of their team. She wondered how much longer they could have fared without him.

Suddenly, Dob turned to her with a smile and a hand, beckoning her to join him with the guild. He took her left hand in his, proudly displaying the diamond ring on her finger.

“We’re engaged!” She announced, excitedly.

She knew they might not take it well, but to hear such loud objections and cries of dismay, it stung. She gave Dob’s hand a slight squeeze and felt him squeeze back in a reassuring manner. They would need time, no doubt, to come to terms with their betrothal. But surely if Dob could look past their disagreements and see her as she was then so could the rest of his guild. The conversation was loud, mostly on the parts of Prudence and Merilwen, but she and Dob remained steadfast in their vow to each other. However, just as they seemed to be gaining the upper hand in their arguments, the conversation can to an abrupt end at the sudden appearance of a strange man with the legs of a bird. Was he the one who was responsible for all this destruction?

She had barely time to process this new arrival before Corazon leapt towards the man, knocking him onto his back. With a flourishing gesture, the man conjured large beings from the red pools on the white stone. The towering beings marched towards the man. They pulled Corazon off of their master and tossed him aside with ease. Then they proceeded to come together to form a sort of magical barrier around him. It was like nothing Katie had ever seen before!

Katie’s first instinct was to fall back and attack from the shadows, a natural strategy for the Queen of Thieves. She just needed a moment to breathe, to collect herself and her thoughts, and to formulate the best approach to attack such a foe as this man. Katie had settled on her course of action, but it seemed her fiancé had other plans. .

“Katie,” he said, “the one-two punch!” The one-two punch? The move that the monks showed them? He wanted to try the move they had only ever seen right now? Gods, he was a fool, but as she looked at his smiling face, beckoning her to be at his side and to join him in this battle, she caved. This could be her chance to prove her loyalty to the others. So, she nodded to him to signal she was all in.

He tossed his dagger into the air. With a perfectly timed leap, she kicked the dagger towards the being. When she heard his pained cry, she knew she had met her mark. She watched him struggle as he yanked the dagger from his side and tossed it to the ground. With his attention elsewhere, Corazon bashed his pommel into the back of the being’s head in an attempt to subdue him. But the being stood strong. So, they threw all their might at him: fire-breath, vine attacks, daggers, swords, and whatever makeshift weapons they had. Until finally, he fell.

The guild wasted no time questioning the strange man, who they called Vocatus. From their conversation, she learned that he had doomed the entire realm to a terrible fate: endless consumption of wine. She wondered if the man was also after what was in the sphere and perhaps that was why he attacked them. Before she could interject, the guild had turned the conversation to another matter: how to end this curse.

Vocatus told them that he required a great source of power to undo what he had begun. Far too calmly for her comfort, they huddled together to form a plan. She joined their huddle, listening carefully when an unfamiliar name caught her ear.

“Babe, who’s Liliana?” Katie asked Dob. It was an innocent question, or so she thought. Before her fiancé could reply, Merilwen shoved her from the huddle with a sharp elbow to the chest.

“Liliana’s Dob’s other girlfriend, Katie,” Prudence answered with a gleeful jeer.

“He’s sort of had a crush on her for a while,” Merilwen added, evidently all too eager to chime in. Katie looked to Dob for his response, but he avoided her gaze.

“Okay, look, could everyone just calm down for a second? You’re all talking so much. Let’s just take a moment,” he said, somewhat frantically trying to regain control over the guild. Why didn’t he defend her? Why wasn’t he looking at her? Was what they said true? Was this Liliana his lover?

They would have no reason to lie to her, unless they only did it to hurt her, but Dob didn’t deny it. Of anyone, he stood the most to gain from lying to her. She was the thief queen, and their marriage would make him her consort. No, Dob didn’t care about any of that. He had his own wealth. She saw herself in the Lake District! Besides he never mentioned such things to her before, but then again, he never mentioned this Liliana woman to her either. Who was she, and what was she to him?

The guild continued to make plans as she stood on the outskirts of their huddle, but she heard none of it. Their voices drowned out by the questions and worries consuming her every thought. Finally, Dob turned to her with wide eyes and a forlorn look. It was almost enough to lure her back in. Almost. 

“It’s all in the past, babe,” he said, his voice high and his tone pleading as he brandished thin silver threads in her face.

“What’s all in the past? Babe, talk to me! Why did Merilwen hit me? You saw that, right?” She implored.

“I don’t know why Merilwen hit you. She is inscrutable,” he answered, unhelpfully.

Merilwen interjected, “I was defending the huddle.”

“You could’ve just asked,” Katie shot back, before turning to her attention again to her betrothed. She needed a moment to clear her head from this dizzying conversation. “Babe, I am going to go get us something to drink. Do you have any allergies, or anything I need to avoid?”

“Yes, actually,” he said, and her handed her a readied list on a scroll. She found a small comfort in this display of trust. Perhaps she was overreacting. She could admit that since becoming the thief queen she had become little paranoid. “There are a couple of rare herbs and roots that I had to avoid growing up.” She quickly scanned the page but did not see anything she recognized.

“Oh, these things are certainly hard to find. Trust me, you’ll be fine. I’m going to give you a minute then.”

“We are good, right Katie?” He asked while brandishing the mysterious threads in her face once more. “There was this powerful mage and she kind of had –”

“A thing for you?” Katie finished helpfully, but the words felt bitter on her tongue.

“Well, she kind of had a thing for me, and I kind of had a thing for her… There was undoubtedly chemistry…”

“Is she jealous?”

“Uh, I don’t think…” Dob paused for a moment, very carefully pondering his next words. “I don’t think she knows you exist.”

Not careful enough.

“I am going to go get us drinks,” she said, icily. She turned from him, leaving him to address his guild while she tended to her task. Anything to get away from him in this moment. She clenched the list in her hand as his words repeated over and over in her mind as she wandered into an apothecary’s shoppe.

Didn’t even know Katie existed? She was the Thief Queen! She was legendary! Commonfolk and highborn alike trembled at the mere mention of her title. Who was this woman to not know of the Thief Queen? He said she was a powerful mage, but she must not be significant if she had never crossed paths with thieves’ court. Katie tried to imagine what such a woman must look like. She probably lived in a little hovel in a forest somewhere without a care in the world, with dirty bare feet, bright glittering eyes, a wide smile, and long flowing hair that Dob’s fingers itched to touch, to braid… Like he had done for her… and Merilwen… Gods, this was torture! How many women did he have?

“Can I help you, miss?” The shopkeeper’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She was grateful that the pearl hid her face from the man. She could not bear the thought of a stranger seeing the tears that filled her eyes. She could not bear the humiliation.  

“Er, yes, I am looking for something to drink. Something… refreshing…” She said, though her mind entertained other descriptions of ill intention. “Perhaps yak milk? Oh, and it can’t contain anything from this list,” she added, suddenly remembering the paper clenched tightly in her fist.

“Certainly,” the shopkeeper smiled as he reviewed the list. As he tended to her request, she perused his wares. Here she found stock of sticklewort, alder leaves, root of hellebore and mandrake, bulb of bluebell and foxglove, and dried primrose heads. Healing remedies, surely, for what harm there could be had in a little flower?

“Here you are, ma’am. We’re out of yak milk, but I do have my own concoction. I hope you don’t mind; it’s a tad bitter.” The shopkeeper had returned with two drinks of a dark green colour. “Anything else caught your eye?”

“No, this’ll be all,” she said. She paid the man six copper pieces for her drinks and made her way back to the guild only to find that Vocatus was gone.

“What if they start making out? Join forces! Then we have to fight them both,” Prudence declared, sounding quite exasperated.

“Who’s making out?” She asked, announcing her return. “Here, babe, they were out of yak milk, so I got you a juice instead. It tastes bitter, but don’t worry about it,” she said, hoping all the while he would find the taste dissatisfying.

“Oh, okay thank you,” he said. She felt a little pleasure in watching him painfully try and fail to hide his grimace.   

Suddenly, Merilwen smacked the drink from his hands, wasting three of her copper pieces. To an even greater delight, she watched as Dob admonished the other woman.

“Please, I really like her, and she really likes me. Can you just try to be nice?” He said to Merilwen’s obvious chagrin.  

“It’s okay, Dob. I get it. Jealousy is a powerful thing,” she said, smugly. Even if there were other women, Dob still chose her. He made a promise to her. Not to Liliana. Not to Merilwen. To her.

Again, she felt a great gratitude to the pearl, as it hid her smirking expression just when Merilwen began to protest loudly. The arguing amongst the guild about the juice persisted to the point where Egbert, their noble paladin, dropped to the ground to taste the spilt drink. He declared it tasted of floor and was bitter, as she had said. Even still, Prudence declared that it could contain herbs and roots that were poisonous to her betrothed. At this assertion, Katie felt that she had enough.

“Why would I do that? Why would I poison my fiancé? Why would I want him to die? I want him to live, I want to marry him,” she countered to Prudence, to which she had no reply. Finally, Dob came to her defense, declaring that she didn’t have to explain herself to the guild, and in a grand display he licked the juice off the ground. He chose her over them.

“Now that we are all poisoned, I guess there’s nothing left to do, but proceed,” Prudence said as Dob stood to be at her side.

“Actually, Katie, maybe we can get a fresh pair of eyes on this situation, and maybe everyone can agree that it was a helpful thing that we brought you in,” he said rather pointedly. He explained how Vocatus had tricked them into revealing information about Liliana, allowing him to go after her. Now they were uncertain whether they should intervene or let events unfold between these foes as they may. 

“If it were me in your situation with Vocatus and Liliana,” she began after a moment of reflection, “I would draw them in close then slit their throats while they’re not expecting it, and then, voila! You’re the queen!” Dob looked pleased with her response, but she noticed Egbert and Merilwen’s visible discomfort at this suggestion.

Corazon was the most vocal about his disagreement with her plan. He argued that they would be better served if they observed their fight from a distance and then eliminate whoever was left in the end. The guild came to a consensus that they would intervene to stop Vocatus. It seemed odd to her that they would go to such lengths to protect an enemy. To her, this plan was a fool’s course of action. However, she couldn’t help but notice that her fiancé was quite relieved by this decision. She toyed with the ring on her finger. Perhaps this was a habit of his, saving women from dangerous beast be it of boar… or man.

Only one tasked remained: find Liliana by whatever magical means they had. Unfortunately, their means were few. Neither Egbert nor Merilwen had spells that could locate Liliana, and even if they had the correct spells, they had no means to get to her. Even worse, Prudence was apparently without her magic entirely. What was the point of all these casters if they couldn’t even teleport? However, the Oxventurers did not seem deterred by these obstacles. Instead, they seemed accustomed to them. Dob suggested that they call on a wizard with a strange name to aid them with this matter.

Merilwen, excited, called for him. Nothing happened at first, but then suddenly, there was a clap of thunder that was so great, it shook the very ground beneath their feet. Katie grabbed Dob’s arm to steady herself. When she looked up, she saw an old, wizened man, who looked somewhat pleased to be called upon. Dob rushed forward to introduce her to the wizard, calling him Binbag, and to her surprise, invited the wizard to their wedding. Binbag and Dob prattled on a bit, before her betrothed remembered the pressing matter at hand. He produced the silver threads once again, and presented them to the wizard, revealing that they were, in fact, strands of that woman’s hair.

Katie thought she might be sick.

He had her hair.

Using a single strand of Liliana’s hair, Binbag cast a scrying spell. He cast the spell upon a nearby a cauldron of wine, much to the annoyance of the enchanted townspeople. However, the spell did not deter them from dipping their goblets into the wine. Binbag shooed them away before gazing deeply into the cauldron.

“Oh, she’s goodlooking,” the wizard murmured, and Katie scoffed. Dob frantically gestured to the wizard, who hastily added, “for someone so plain… Look here!” He shouted, and the Oxventurers peered into the cauldron. “She appears to be aboard a ship… but to where is she headed?” He stirred the cauldron, and Katie begrudgingly leaned in to watch as he calmed the rippling wine. On the still surface, she saw a ship upon raging waters bound for a shore she did not recognize.

“Necropolis-on-Sea,” she heard Egbert muttered knowingly. Katie looked to Dob for an explanation, but his eyes remained steadfast on the cauldron.

“We need to get there, quickly! That is my ancestral home!” Corazon exclaimed. “Our home,” he quickly corrected himself at the scathing look from Merilwen. “Binbag, can you teleport us there? Surely, you can do that?” The wizard paused for a moment, before he finally relented to the guild’s pleas.

He traced sigils in the air around them, and runes began to glow on the ground around their feet. He was muttering in a tongue Katie had not heard before. With a clap of his hands, the spell was cast, and what a horrible thing it was. She felt as though she had been split in two by an ice-cold blade while the air around her turned to violent winds, cast from all directions. Then, all at once, the sensation stopped. She opened her eyes to see she was standing on a hillside near a great big tree.

“Are you alright, Katie?”

Dob’s voice was a welcomed sound after such an ordeal. She eagerly took his outstretched hand, feeling unsteady on her feet.

“That was certainly something,” she said, shakily. She noticed how little of an effect the spell had on the Oxventurers. Merilwen certainly had no problem walking up the hill, with the rest following close behind her. Dob, thankfully, remained by her side as they made their way to the hilltop. That was until he heard a sudden panicked cry from Merilwen, and he ran to join her.

Alone, Katie made her way to the guild. Upon reaching the top, Katie saw what inspired the panic, and in truth, the sight caught her own breath. There, anchored in the bay and with waves crashing against her hull, was the largest ship Katie had ever seen. Though, it was not the ship at gave her start, but what it had brought to the shores. Tents – far more than she could count in one glance – had been pitched on the land before a cliffside great manor. A military camp, to be sure. She looked to the Oxventurers. If any of them still had confidence in their plan, it was absent on their faces.

Prudence seemed to be peering at something below through a spyglass. Following her line of sight with one of her own, Katie saw something most strange. Strung up high, gutted and adorned in fine clothes, was… Egbert? No, he was standing beside her on this hilltop… Her eyes must be playing tricks on her, or it was an illusion, or… Or there was far more to this woman that the guild was letting on.   

“If Vocatus is dead,” Prudence murmured. She tossed the spyglass to Corazon, who nearly dropped it in surprise. Suddenly, she conjured a green fire in her hands and hurled it at a nearby tree. She shouted in gleeful triumph. Corazon walked up to the now charred tree to admire the damage.

“Well, I guess that’s settled, then,” he said with a surprising calmness.  

“Except for the fact that Liliana is in our home,” Merilwen countered. Katie found herself silently agreeing with Merilwen. Surely, they hadn’t teleported all this way for nothing.

“We can’t take on Liliana and her army, Merilwen,” Dob said, gently, in a tone she thought sounded familiar. “I think we need to cut our losses and count our wins. Prudence’s magic has returned, and we have a wedding to plan!” He looked to Katie and gave her a small smile. So, they had come here for nothing.

“You’re right, Dob,” Merilwen said, and Katie’s eyes narrowed as she watched her squeeze his shoulder. “I am sure Liliana is sifting through our personal belongings as we speak.” Katie watched as the colour drained from his face. What could be in there that he didn’t want her to find? He snatched the spyglass from Corazon’s hands and quickly scanned the manor.

“To the next mission, gang, wedding planning!” Corazon cheered, clapping Dob on the back.

“Yes, to wedding planning!” Egbert corralled.

Katie felt somewhat relieved at their support, belated as it was. However, when she looked to her betrothed, she saw that he had a far-off look in his eyes. Was it from worry? Fear? Longing? She couldn’t tell, and that hurt more than she could admit.

--

An inn south of Necropolis-on-Sea, Gathered Isles

The evening following the events at Necropolis-on-Sea…

After a hot meal consisting of a meat and carrot stew and a fresh roll that was washed down with a light ale, Katie excused herself from the guild’s rowdy company. Needed to turn in after such a long day, she told them to little protest. She had thought her fiancé might join her, but he bid her a goodnight and sent her to bed with a small peck on the cheek. So off she went to the room by herself.

The accommodations at the inn were modest to say the least. While it was certainly a step up from her recent arrangements, she longed for her own bed in the queen’s private chambers in the Tangle. It had been far too long since she last laid her head on the feathered pillows and silk sheets, and it would be even longer still when she would again. She supposed once they were married Dob would return with her to the Thieves’ Court as her consort. She supposed, but they had not discussed it yet. They had not discussed much at all since they had joined with the rest of his guild. They would talk soon, she figured. After all, they had a wedding to plan, and there remained the small matter of that other woman.

Katie removed the pearl and set it upon the bedside table. She removed her rings, necklaces, and unlaced her leather boots. She studied her appearance in the looking glass upon the wall. If he chose her over Liliana, then surely that woman couldn’t hold a candle to her. Bright blue eyes, golden hair, callused fingers… Did mages’ fingers harden the way thieves did? Or were they soft? Did she perfume her skin? Wear the finest of fabrics and ornaments in her long, silvery hair?

The image of Dob waving that woman’s hair in her face flashed before her eyes. He was so brazen with them. He just carried them around on his person. He carried them still!

She spied his bag in the corner of their room. He wouldn’t be joining her for a while, and she was well-equipped to search through a person’s things without them being any the wiser. With careful fingers, she parsed through his belongings. A mess kit, a disguise kit, some rations, a waterskin… Nothing that would conceal a lock of hair. As she riffled through his clothes, she found his leather folio tucked neatly underneath.

She opened it to find pages loose and disorderly. Pages of music compositions, followed by poems, and incomplete sketches of the guild members, fauna, and unfamiliar landscapes. She flipped through each page, searching, hoping, praying to whatever Gods would hear her… Then she found what she was dreading: a charcoal portrait of an unfamiliar woman.

This portrait depicted a woman of great beauty with high cheek bones, piercing eyes, long pointed ears, and long, flowing hair. Her stomach twisted. This was his most detailed portrait composed of careful lines and thoughtful shading which served to compliment her features. She turned the pages and found more sketches of her, even some of her full body. He adorned her in ornate clothes and jewelry. She was more beautiful than she had imagined. Katie had no doubt that he had penned poems and songs for her, but she dared not look to suffer more. The folio slipped from her hands; papers scattered at her feet as it crashed to the floor.

Her worst fear had come true. She let him make a fool of her, again. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away. He would have no more of her tears. She would make sure of it.

She dumped out her belongings onto the floor and frantically began to search, but to her surprise, the monk’s book was missing. She remembered packing it when they left their camp, but now it was nowhere to be found. There was only one person who could have taken from her without her noticing: a skillful rogue, one who had no problem defying his queen. So, Corazon’s support for their marriage was a lie. All of them lied. No matter, she had other ways of getting her revenge.

They would marry, she decided, regardless of Dob’s real affections. Regardless of what his guild said. She made had a promise, and she was woman of her word. There was no doubt in her mind that they would marry. She had much to gain being his wife: a lake full of treasure, a fine manor on the shores of the Gathered Isles, and the satisfaction of the Oxventure Guild’s eventual destruction.

She would have to wait to get her ultimate revenge, but she took no issue with that. She could be patient. It would be worth it. She would be careful in the meantime not to rouse any suspicion. He would find in her the most loving and delighted of brides.

She began to tidy the mess she had made of their room as he would come to their shared bed eventually. He could not know she knew of his true heart.

As she tidied, she pondered all the ways she might do it. Following their wedding ceremony, she could slit his throat in their marital bed. She could poison him and the rest of the guild at the reception with cups of tainted wine. Or she could bring them all to the court with the ruse that she would be presenting Dob as her consort, only to have them hanged for treason against the Queen. They could serve as a warning to any who might still be against her. She would not be made a fool, not by them, not by anyone. She would rid herself of her enemies one by one.

Just as she settled on this plan, she stumbled upon a piece of paper that gave her pause: Dob’s list of rare roots and herbs that he couldn’t eat. She tucked the list into her waistcoat. She would have to be careful, but she saw no reason why she couldn’t make him suffer a little before they were wed. A thought that brought her a private delight that she was all too willing to admit.