Once the dust and blood from their encounter with the Briarwoods had settled atop the stone pavement, Vox Machina were escorted at blade point by the Sovereigns men toward the Councils Chamber. Yet unlike before instead of being greeted as heroes of the Realm, Uriel stood at the forefront of Tal'dorei's Noble collective, fury splashed across his face as his flaring eyes bore down upon the battle weary adventures stood on the floor below. Each of the party's members were covered head to toe in scratches and dirt, their immaculate formal wear scorched and torn to pieces.
Keyleth still supported Vax as best she could, even though Pike had all but healed his wounds the Half-Elf still had little if any strength to carry his own meagre weight. Meanwhile, the thin slices dotted across Grog's exposed torso still wept with blood, though the Goliath dismissed the dozens of lacerations as nothing more than a minor inconvenience as he stood unaffected. The frenzied Oldegårdian on the other hand stood beside Vex, one arm braced around her exposed shoulders while his hand was pressed against the seeping wound bore into his side.
With gritted teeth and batted breath, Ragnvaldr's burning gaze met the Sovereigns as he addressed The Protectors of The Realm. "You've ruined our banquet, assaulted political allies, and risked the security of the realm!" Uriel screeched manically pacing to and frow rapidly on top of the platform above, both hands clenched firmly behind his back. "Throw them in irons!" he order viciously whirling around toward his misguided guards whom converged to uphold the strenuous if not lethal order.
A chorus of gasps erupted from the party as The Sovereigns entourage raised their spears and trudged toward them, crushing Vox Machina side to side as if they were a herd of sheep destined for slaughter. "You heard him. Come with me." the assailant closest Grog commanded only to reel back as the towering male gripped both fists closed and unleashed a thundering growl from underneath his bared teeth. Even Ragnvaldr, with what little strength hadn't been sapped from the well placed stab wound pushed himself upright, still within Vex's grasp and levelled the tip of ones blade squarely between his eyes.
"Keep that weapon raised, and you'll be dead before you hit the the floor. Understand?" he gnarled venomously, his soul crushing emerald eyes sinking their gaze deeply into the shorter Palace Guards, who's hands shook fearfully now coming face to face with the taller Oldegårdian. "Scared? Good... It brings me comfort knowing Tal'dorei's best are nothing but snivelling cowards." He snarled steeling a glace upward toward the outraged monarch himself, the veneer mask of decorum falling completely as his fellow Protectors watched on in abject shock unnerved by the ever rising tension.
Stood silently behind the party and away from the treasonous commotion was Percy, whom did nothing but avert his eyes to the floor rubbing the tips of his gloved, black powder covered fingertips across the shooting pain dancing along his jaw. "Come. We did nothing wrong." Vex insisted trying her best to quell an already strenuous situation, but to little success as Uriel remained steadfast in his defiance.
Thankfully, much to Vox Machina's relief Lady Allura cut in on their behalf, whether out of pity or an uneasy respect they did not know. "Sovereign, it's been a very long evening. I will see that they are properly punished." she proclaimed as the stone faced man turned to face his most level headed confidant, his blanketed eyes remaining locked on her for a few brief but unsettling moments.
"See that you do." he scoffed quietly sulking back from the platform's edge and vanishing from view into the bowels of the Palace once more.
As he did each of the loyal hounds lowered their spears to their sides and took a single step back, the young recruit faced with the task of restraining Ragnvaldr did the same as well, though tried little to hide his terror much to the human's satisfaction, his estimation of Emon's best soldiers being proven correct. "Allura, something is very wrong with Uriel. He's under the Briarwoods' influence, I can feel it." Vex spoke up on behalf of the party, taking a single step forth, both hands clenched tightly at her sides while Ragnvaldr loosened his already weakened grip on his axe.
Narrowing her weathered eyes, Lady Allura craned her head ever so slightly at the baseless denunciation. "That is a considerable accusation. Do you have proof?" the Noble questioned cocking a single curious eyebrow toward the pleading Half-Elf.
"No. But I can get it. I just need time and access to..." she begged with what little determination her battered body could muster, clasping one hand by her side shut tightly all while the Oldegårdian glared viciously toward the last remaining Councilor in the Chamber.
Instantly, with a single wave of her wrist Allura silenced Vex "Emon owes you a debt, but that does not mean you are above the law." the blonde began as she took a single tired breath, folding one arm against her chest while gripping her chin tightly, lowering her gaze to the ground in thought, "Though perhaps Uriel is being too brash. Until this is resolved, you are hereby confined to your Keep under house arrest." she concluded reasonably, only to be met by the thunderously loud, overlapping chatter of Grog, Scanlan and Pike each arguing their case while inexplicably drowning the other out.
Only Percy, Keyleth, Vax, Vex and Ragnvaldr remained silent close by as all five understood that the Councils mind and by extension Allura's could not be changed with any amount of honeyed words or promises of making their poor decision right. "How can you arrest a house?" The Goliath whined childishly, outstretching his massive arms seemingly incapable of understanding the Party's current predicament.
Standing right in front of Grog, Pike placed her small hand comfortingly upon the confused Giant's thigh, "Okay. Thank you, Lady Allura." she sighed facing the platform and placing both palms of her hands together bowing as respectfully as any Priestess could.
"I'll convene a formal inquiry at once. You fate will be determined once we hear the Briarwoods' side of the story." Allura concluded twisting on the spot with a simple flick of her pale blue gown, "If they'll speak to us anymore." she uttered trotting out of sight leaving the battered and bruised party scattered amongst a gaggle of surrounding guards, all of whom instantly raised their weapons and escorted Vox Machina from the palace.
However, Ragnvaldr refused to budge as he untangled his arm from around Vex forcing himself to stand tall with an arm pressed against his still open wound, much to his companions dread. "Those bastards will tell you what you want to hear. That we attacked them out of sheer malice, while they simply defended themselves." He insisted through gritted teeth, his eyes burning even more furiously then the moment he had set his gaze upon Aymon.
"My parents blood stains Aymon's hands, I watched as he burned my village, slaughtered my people! And you expect me to wait, respect some decree given by a Council that honoured him for his crimes!" Ragnvaldr bellowed with what felt like the rage of an entire nation, not one member of Vox Machina stepping to his side, knowing full well no words could calm the furiously shaking, axe welding Barbarian.
The Oldegårdian's grip tightened around the pommel of his axe to a inhuman extent as he fought with every fibre of his being not to give in unto his baser desires of his own peoples justice. "When the time comes, if they accept your invitation the Elf will be judged under our laws. Not yours! And should I have to, I will gladly burn this Palace to the ground..." He begrudgingly finished growling like he were a rabid animal, unwilling to accept his foe was now all but unkillable. Turning on the spot he marched away, blade in hand as the wandering eyes of Vox Machina followed his every move.
Reaching the doors of the Palace once more, their armed escort in toe, one last time the Outlander hands pressed against the ornate wood and turned his head to face the lone, frozen Council woman. "My Father always spoke highly of you, Allura. Yet you sully his name by standing with the very same monster that murdered him..." he uttered, his biting tone echoing through the Chamber loud enough for all to hear.
Refusing to await the sentries to open the doors Ragnvaldr acted on his own as he, effortlessly flung both open just enough to allow himself and the others through, leaving Allura alone in the dead silent room, frozen stock still on the platform above. Tearing herself from her stupor, the Council woman without another word nor look descended into the bowls of the Palace once more, all while her porcelain teeth bit into her bottom lip, doing her best to hold back the tears she had not shed since the news of Utrhed's demise all those years ago.
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Meanwhile as Vox Machina were escorted under lock and key toward the Keep they now called home, deep in the blackened forest storming along the poorly maintained cobble roads toward Whitestone the Briarwoods carriage roared along as Aymon with both reigns held tightly in hand spurred the muscled work horses forward, pushing the animals past their breaking point while his Lord and Lady nestled inside the decorated coach.
With the light of four small burning lanterns Delilah manically tore through the pairs ornate chest, ripping away it's many of poorly disguised contents, scattering them across the floor as she tore away frantically like a hungry animal checking every single one of the hidden compartments once over for the only item that meant everything to her. "Aymon, stop!" she yelped as the Elven commander yanked his reigns backward and careened the bleating animals to a dead stop, eyes cautiously watching the encapsulated tree line, one hand placed firmly upon his blade as he watched for any oncoming threats to his masters.
Yelling with untethered fury, Delilah gripped the hollowed edges of the trunk glancing toward her beloved whom sat emotionless upon the cushioned seat. "My book. They have my book!" she ranted, pale eyes wide with mania as Sylas leaned forth ever so slightly.
"A minor inconvenience, my love." he uttered meaningfully, doing his best to comfort his panic stricken wife.
Unconvinced of Lord Briarwoods' words Delilah remained as she did staring down the Vampiric male, "But that tome contains details of our..." she babbled only to be silenced by Sylas's cold finger tips trancing themselves beneath her pointed jaw.
"It will avail them of nothing. Besides, we have the means of retrieving it, don't we?" he questioned with a malignant though all knowing glance as Delilah's expression switched to one of realisation as a sickly, pleased grin spread across her painted lips.
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Trinkets bellowing growls and chuffs reverberated through the pitch black night, slicing through the uttered silence beyond the Keeps thickened stone walls. Within the grand structures hallowed grounds restrained to the very same tree their Half-Elf and Human companions lay not a night prior, the armoured bear tied at the neck by ropes trudged his massive body forward as one of the members of Emon's guard fell on his back quickly scurrying out of the restrained bears reach while another tightened the looped rope around the tree's hulking base.
Beside him, Moonless at the behest of Ragnvaldr stood upright on her hind quarters, sat as silent as the day she was born with a roped leash too keeping her hyperactive form stranded in place as her blood red eyes remained locked upon the troops now scurrying around the courtyard like rats, hungrily watching, awaiting the moment, if it ever came for her master to give the order to attack.
Feet away, within the confines of the well lit entrance hall past the wide open doors of the main Keep, Scanlan's prissy voice broke through the clanking of armour. "Get your filthy hands of my instrument!" he argued incessantly jumping up and down on the spot desperately grasping for the lute held just above his head and out of reach by the much taller, helmless Guard.
"The more you resist, the longer this will take." the heavily accented voice of Jarret Howarth announced, his crimson cape flowing gracefully behind him as he marched inside. The Captain of the guard and Marquet Native jolted to a sudden stop beside his comrade as Scanlan glanced the tall, dark skinned human up and down incredulously.
Locking himself firmly to the ground Scanlan spoke up in defence of his beloved instrument while Vax and Keyleth watched from afar. "Come on, man. It's not a weapon! I just want to serenade the group!" he argued viciously motioning toward the Rogue and Druid alike, fully expecting one of the two to stick up for him, but as usual, was met with no such luck.
"Then you're doing us a favour." Vax drawled as his gaze darted between Jarret and Scanlan both, folding one arm over the other expectantly and as calm as could be leaned his shoulder against the wall, almost basking in the Gnome's suffering.
Uninterested in the Bard's incessant musings The Captain of the Guard remained as stone-faced as ever, not once changing his cold expression. "Your belongings will be returned if you are exonerated. All points of egress to this compound are being surveilled. If you attempt to escape, you will be executed." Jarret grunted in an ever steady, monotoned voice eyes darting between the disgraced The Protectors of the Realm.
When such an order was heard Vax was the first to push himself upright, now having mostly recovered from his wounds. "Are you fucking joking?" he hissed taking a single step forward while the Captain remained as steadfast as ever.
"I do not joke." Howarth verbalized one final time twisting on his heel and marching back toward the entrance whence he came, the last two remaining Guards paired tightly by his side like loyal hounds. "I'd advise you sit tight and wait for the Sovereign's inquiry." he finished while the men and women of the Guard all kept a silent but close eye on the adventurers as they left.
"And what, we're just supposed to sit here?!" an enraged Grog bellowed from the side of Vex and Pike, his deepened voice bouncing off of the stone walls of the hall, gripping both large fists tightly at his side as his usually dulled gaze held a simmering flame seemingly ignited by Ragnvaldr's tenuous words to Lady Allura.
Not wasting another moment speaking with the so called criminals Jarett turned on a dime gripping the vertical edges of both wooden doors while a single Purple skinned Tiefling solider swayed side to side behind him, desperately trying to keep her balance as she held all of Vox Machina's weapons bundled in her arms. "You have the run of your keep. I'm sure you will find something to entertain yourselves." he chittered closing the old doors with a loudened squeak followed by a piercing click as they locked it from the outside. The newly earned home now became nothing but a glorified prison.
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Eventually, after a mere hours worth of pondering over their current predicament the many members of Vox Machina, now changed back into their adventuring garbs, did their best to distract their already anxious selves though willingly chose to stay within arms reach of one another hidden inside the spacious dinning room clouded with a palpable silence only broken by Grogs strained grunts as he curled a crudely made bar-bell made from a simple piece of thick wood weighed two heavy bags full of rocks feet away from the group.
Percy meanwhile stood at the head of the table hands braced against the wooden surface as every last bit of his focus was solely drilled upon the Keep's long forgotten blueprints. The Noble seemingly searching for a means of escape. Even Scanlan, without his trusty lute made himself busy having convinced Vax to part with Delilah's Grimoire as he flicked through its scrawled contents, using his surprisingly extensive knowledge of language to decipher what little he could of the strange text to the tune of Grogs muttering self encouragement.
Of course, after the events of the Feast Vex ever cautious sat closest the white haired human, arms folded one over the other as her hazel eyes darted between both him and Ragnvaldr who had posted himself uncomfortably close to the doorway. The only thing that broke her silent focus was Keyleth, whom with a tiny mound of soil in hand cast a simple spell upon it, watching as the dirt glowed a faded hue of green, sprouting a fully matured lily in an instant. Gently the Druid innocently plucked it from the stem placed it between the fine strands of her orange hair just above her ear.
Meanwhile, as the others did their best to focus their minds elsewhere Pike sat alone upon an empty crate tucked into the corner. her tiny form facing the wall as she silently stared down upon the mere jewel that her sigil now was in despair, not a hint of her Gods holy magic emanating from within. Ragnvaldr, now with a bandage wrapped firmly around his exposed torso, part of which was damp with the crimson blood were his wound lay, understood the priestesses plight all too well, he himself having struggled with his own faith in the Gods once upon a time.
"Grog!" Percy snapped craning his head toward the nearby Goliath who's own self promotion only grew louder with every single, creaking rep he completed.
With the bar-bell tucked tightly to his chest, Grog turned his tattooed face toward the smaller human. "What?" he squeaked innocently with a small confused pout at the Nobles sudden outburst.
Thankfully before the impatient man could answer Vax, in an utter panic broke his stoic silence and turned to his sister, fear plastered across his face as he gripped the top of the chair, "I know we have a lot to talk about, but I'm not turning into a vampire, am I?" he questioned toward the frustrated twin whom simply directed her eyes toward the window as he pointed at the pair of bite marks etched into his throat. Glancing toward it Vax saw his own stricken reflection staring right back at him. "I withdraw the question..." the Half-Elf grimaced, falling into an awkward silence.
Still clinging onto the homemade weight Grog unleashed a heaving breath as he turned toward the rest of the Party, "So what are we waiting for? let's fuck up these guards and bust out of here!" exclaimed dimly holding the bar above his head with some ease.
"Oh? So you'd like to be fugitives of the crown, wanted in every corner of Tal'Dorei?" Vax bit back, face all but devoid of emotion as he stood up straight, one arm folded atop the other over his blackened tunic glaring squarely at the instant giant. Snapping his head toward Ragnvaldr who simply scoffed at the notion of yet another bounty placed on his head.
Next to voice their opinion was Keyleth who idly kept her gaze focused upon the table beneath her, "If Uriel is under a charm, maybe Pike has a spell that can cure him." she perked up, turning in her chair to look toward the silent Cleric tucked away from the others. "Um, Pike? Where'd you go?" The Druid voiced rather awkwardly, tilting her head ever so slightly, receiving not one word in reply from the miniature Gnome who's attention was focused solely on her damaged amulet.
Another drawn out silence followed, until Ragnvaldr trotted up beside her and placed a firm hand atop her tiny shoulder, breaking her from her self-imposed trance. "Huh? Oh, um, I-I don't know. What she said." Pike stuttered immediately shutting the others out, her fractious thoughts still plaguing her since being struck with Delilah's Necromantic magic.
"Screw all that. We should focus on this book. I mean look at it..." Scanlan butted in with a heavy sigh, The Briarwood's Grimoire laid bare before him as he scanned the book and it's many macabre illustrations, "Dead bodies, wolves. It's some kind of fucked-up evil diary." he described flicking through the pages with a morbid curiosity. "Ooh, maybe it has evidence that can clear our name." the Bard urged the group as Vax stalked over and stopped opposite him.
Reaching over the Rogue took the book back into his possession clearing his throat, seating himself on one of the empty chairs and burying his chin against his hand. "Oh, really? You think you can actually read this thing?" he questioned incredulously lanky fingers tapping against the worn parchment, awaiting his answer.
Glaring straight at the smug Half-Elf Scanlan rubbed at the small of his neck nervously as all waiting eyes fell upon him alone. "Well, yeah, I mean, I-I only just started translating it. And Delilah's handwriting is the worst but..." he babbled searching for some noble reason, but instead was met with nothing but a frazzled jumble of typical excuses.
"Uh-huh. So what does it say?" Vax challenged sliding the Grimoire back toward Scanlan, watching with vainly disguised glee as the dark haired Gnome pretended to sift through the nearly ending lines of a few passages.
Glancing up for the briefest of moments expression shifted to one of absolute seriousness the Bard began his translation, "Oh. Uh, it says "Pyramid," "Spirits of the dead," and right here in tiny letters it says "Uh, Fuck you, Vax."" he snapped shooting up straight and flipping off the now satisfied twin.
After doing nothing but wasting the Party's valuable time, the two continued on with their little spat, "Oh, lovely. Care to translate this?" Vax sputtered as he suddenly shot both his middle fingers upright, the two proceeding to silently swear at each other as Scanlan stood on his chair and braced one booted foot atop the table wooden surface.
Testing the rest of Vox Machina's already fractured patience, both the Rogue and Bard continuous utterings finally reached boiling point as Pike whirled around to face the two males. "Can you two stop!" she hissed venomously, her sudden outburst quickly silencing the childish men who dropped their arms to their side once more.
Silence once more fell across the dining room as Vex finally pushed her legs from beneath the table and stood to her feet, taking a few lonely steps toward Percy and snatching the Keeps scavenged plans from his grasp like he were a misbehaving child. "I was using that." The ever stubborn human grumbled, pen still in hand as Vex placed one clenched fist against her hip staring him down, silently demanding an explanation from him.
"We need to talk... All of us." she insisted bracing one hand atop the table and leaning down ever so slightly, merely sparring a single glance toward the distant Oldegårdian who refused to meet hers nor anyone else's gaze since their encounter with the Briarwoods. "Percival, Ragnvaldr?" she questioned motioning for the two unstable humans to take a seat.
Without a hint of struggle, Percy adjusted one of the cuffs on his pale dress shirt taking a seat and locking both hands together dutifully. "Certainly. What would you like to discuss, Vex'ahlia?" he relented only to be met with silence as he looked up toward the Ranger leering above him, her hazeled gaze still holding firm against the standing Red-Head human still pressed against the far wall.
Not another word was spoken between the Barbarian and Half-Elf as she simply flicked her eyes toward the empty seat next to Percy's. With a defiant grunt, Ragnvaldr relented and staggered his way to it, ripping the piece of furniture from underneath the table, it's wooden legs screeching loudly against the cobbled flooring as he sat himself down, leaning backward in his chair and placing one hand atop his muscled thigh, Emerald eyes locking with Vex's own. "For a start, what the hell happened back there? You never thought to mention the Briarwoods killed your family?" she interrogated directly, her own nature refusing to dance around the issue at hand.
Before Percy could answer however, a sudden crash pounded throughout the room as Grog lost a grip of the bar-bell, dropping it to the floor and shattering it to pieces. "Oh! My bad!" he called out as Vex's burning gaze silenced the apologetic Goliath in an instant.
The White Haired Noble locked one hand over the other, straightening his back upright, his whole body ridged as he kept his attention chained to the wall ahead. "I wasn't aware that you were owed information about my past, or his." Percy argued back stealing a glance at the aggravated She-Elf who stood up to her full height, folding one arm over the the other.
"When the past comes to kill us, I'd say we deserve a heads-up." she snarled back, refusing to play into Percy's usual brooding self while Ragnvaldr watched on as silent as ever, not speaking a word as his mind seemingly began to wander, growing more impatient with every passing second.
Refusing to back down this time Percy whirled his head upward to meet the condescending woman hanging over him. "And how exactly was I to know the Briarwoods would be attending?" he barked back as calmly as he could possibly muster only for the interrogation turned argument to be interrupted by a particular Air Ashari.
"I want to know about the smoke!" Keyleth demanded shooting to her feet defiantly much to even Vax's surprise who sat with a somewhat bewildered expression at the meek Druid's sudden outburst. Realising what she had just done, the woman slowly slunk back into her chair. "Sorry. I... d-d... Loud. Sorry..." she finished, plopping back onto her seat and dropping her head, feeling the embarrassment bubbling in her gut.
Percy's dark eyebrows strained as they knitted together, "Smoke? My weapon burns black powder. Perhaps that's what you saw." he deflected, doing little to deter the concerned Ranger circling both himself and Ragnvaldr who remained silent until it was his turn to be put to the chopping block.
"What we saw was you shooting an innocent kid." Vex countered again coming to a complete stop half way between to two brooding men, still receiving vague answers that gave into nothing but conjecture and speculation.
At the mere insinuation of Desmond's innocence, Percy's hands clung to one another even tighter his nails scrapping against his skin as an inconceivable rage scratched it's way to the surface. "No one in the employ of the Briarwoods is innocent." he grunted, clenching his jaw shut tight as Vex slammed her gloved hand right in front of him, all semblance of patience drained from her.
"The boy knew nothing. He was terrified!" The unwavering She-Elf raged, while she stole a glance toward Ragnvaldr every few words, hoping that, even after he threatened the lives of the Council, he would try to speak some sense into his fellow human. Hoping that the shred of mercy she knew he had would shine through his cold exterior.
Finally, after a brief moment of silence her prayer was finally answered when Ragnvaldr's grovelling voice broke through the clarity. "If that's what you believe, then may the Hells swallow you as well as them..." he uttered much to Percy's shock who merely met the taller man with a angered scowl.
"Says the same man who just threatened a member of the Council. Spare me your philosophy lesson Ragnvaldr, it means nothing." The younger man bristled toward the Oldegårdian, unaware he spoke from experience, having walked the road of dishonour Percy was now tettering on the precipice of.
Shaking his head at the Nobles stubbornness, Ragnvaldr felt a strange wave wash over him, almost as if he were looking through a window to past. "If I were a Philosopher, then this world would be truly lost." he chuckled, trying his best to ilvaite some of the palpable tension. "But it's more than that... I'm speaking from experience when I tell you, that deaths of innocents weigh even heavier once all is said and done. Because, no matter how hard you try there is no justifying them to yourself or others." he breathed, chest hitching ever so slightly as the memories of his last encounter with his now undying foe invaded his mind.
Flames blazed across the night sky as the mansion burned to cinders, the haunting screams that emanated from within as Ragnvaldr's younger self stood before the blaze pounded through his head, axe in one hand, lit torch in the other, his bare, hitching torso splattered with the blood of innocence as Moonless stood at his side, her jaw too painted with crimson. A bringer of death, a mere vessel to quench Gro-goroth's endless thirst for violence and death. The greatest of honours for young-bloods like himself. Controlled by the very rituals and worship his father worked so hard to abolish in the name of progress and peace.
Luckily, before the memory could get the better of him he felt a strong yet comforting grip upon his shoulder that tore him back to reality as Percy anger expression soften ever so slightly. "Maybe I got carried away. But you don't know the Briarwoods. What they did they did to my family..." he uttered, still contemplating the Oldegårdian's words.
"Then why don't you tell us?" Keyleth inquired, her voice laced with a shiver as each member of Vox Machina gathered around the table, all eyes locked on Percy except Ragnvaldr whom glanced toward his own hand stretched across it's surface.
Unleashing a sigh he countered the young Druid, "Perhaps that's not such a good idea, Keyleth... Not yet anyway." Ragnvaldr spoke as Percy's deadened eyes fell on the man next to him.
"No... They need to know." The De Rolo insisted brushing aside the Slayer's concerns, no matter how noble. Taking a single, deepened calming breath he recounted his own story. "When they arrived in Whitestone, the Briarwoods came as allies. But they brought dark ambitions." Percy began, the memories of those days flooding back in a tidal wave of death and tragedy.
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Echoes of laughter battered against his skull as the all too clear image of his younger siblings laughing and playing as children should came to life. His youngest sister ocean blue eyes gleaming as the evening sun beamed through the pane glass windows of Whitestone's grand keep. Just ahead of the young girl a boy, not much older than her ran just a few feet ahead running as fast as he could from his speedy pursuer, all while Lady Briarwood stood not a few feet away, her scheming eyes burning with pure hatred of the two youngest of the De Rolo family.
"And allowed no one to stand in their way.... Not even children."
Instantly, the memories of a happier time were replaced with ones of sheer horror as the shining sun was cast into pale, blackened moonlight, barely revealing through the darkness the pair of small bodies pinned to the wall by arrows jutting from their motionless forms. While their armed guardian remained not a foot away, pinned to the same wall with a sword pierced straight through his chest.
"They slaughtered us in cold blood... Seizing my ancestral home."
Even after so many years Percy still remembered how, when the Briarwoods finally revealed their treachery both himself and Cassandra had sought refuge with their tutor, clinging to the portly mans twin tailed coat while the hells themselves were unleashed all around them... Little did either children know, however, they would have been better of running the first chance they got.
"Even our tutor, the man my parents entrusted with our safekeeping betrayed us..."
Beneath his glasses, Percy's eyes twinged ever so slightly as he felt the cold stone floor of the cell smash against his back, both himself and Cassandra thrown into a pitch dark cell as they took one last look at their former tutor and a malformed, short troll like man beside him before the door was shut for good, leaving them entrenched in utter darkness. The last sight being the two men's sadistic, grinning faces.
"After enduring weeks of torture, my sister Cassandra and I tried to escape together."
He continued recalling the inch deep, ice cold snow burning against his bare feet as he ran through the forest, his only surviving family held close, moving as fast as they could to escape the ever encroaching hunting party not far behind... Then, a pair of quilled arrows struck the girl in the back falling face down in the snow as her grip fell from Percy's shredded hand.
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Utter silence filled the air as Percy's bare hand shook against the table, his fists clenched, nails once more digging into his palm as if they were wet sand. All while the others stood speechless at the tale of the demonic nobles brutality. All except Ragnvaldr, whom merely nodded in understanding, not needing to hear another word. "The Briarwoods know I'm alive now, and they are not in the habit of leaving loose ends." he spoke up once more, eyes gliding over the Party set out before him.
Setting the Keep's plans flat in front of Percy once more, Vex was the first to speak up. "So what's your plan?" she questioned a sly smirk gracing her painted lips while the others remained as determined as ever, not only to prove their own innocence, but help their intrepid friend and the Outlander with some secrets of his own, now buried under years of regret.
"First things first, we get the fuck out of here. Now that the Briarwoods have Aymon, he won't waste anytime sending his men." Ragnvaldr announced pushing himself once more to his feet bracing both hands in front of the steady surface before him. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they're already on their way... Things have changed since last we fought." he uttered as Keyleth gripped her forearm, cautiously choosing her next words.
Quietly the Druid spoke up, a hint of sarcasm laced in her tone. "Oh, you mean the part about him siding with a Necromancer and literal Vampire? Or that he just stuck his back on?" she countered waving her hand ever so slightly, her own deep green eyes meeting the Oldegårdian's own.
Ragnvaldr shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly, mulling for a few moments over his next words. "As I said, things have changed... But if it means I fulfil my Oath, then I'll find a way, Like always." he sighed turning his attention back toward the parchment laid at the centre of the table for all to see. "Besides, it wouldn't help to kill two birds, or this case three with one stone, eh? Percy?" he snorted ever so slightly, sparring a downward glance toward the De Rolo who met his fellow human with a curt nod of understanding.
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Heavy hooves clobbered against the broken down cobbles as Aymon pulled the horse drawn carriage to a winding stop, coming to a halt in front of an old stonework archway, it pointed tip adorned with that of a carved eagle jutting from the structures flattened angles, wings spread leering over any would be visitors to the cemetery protected by a locked iron barred gate.
Slowly, the door to the carriage creaked open as Sylas traipsed toward it, his towering shadow cast right across the cobble in the moonlight. Coming to a drawling stop, face inches from the bars the Vampire Lord simply grasped the heavy metal with one hand and ripped it from its hinges with a loud shriek as the material bent in unnatural ways, tossing it aside like it were nothing more than a plank of wood leaving the way opened for his wife as the grate struck the ground with a loud, rumbling thud. "I hope this is to your liking." the Lord enunciated as his wife pat him by without one glance.
"You take me to the nicest places." Delilah sighed dreamily, taking her pale gloves from her lithe hands, exposing her deathly pale skin to the burning moonlight, passing by the endless sea of simple headstones peppered by the statues posted on squared bases, standing tall over the long deceased Nobility of old.
Tracing through the crumbling dirt of the forgotten lair of the dead, Lady Briarwood stopped in a small clearing nearest the centre of the cemetery, and with steady hands bent down toward the soil beneath her heels, summoning streaks of dark magic as it pulsed through her veins right when her hand touched the earth contorting her own limb into one of inhuman nature. Her porcelain nails turned to vicious inch long claws, while her snow white complexion turned leathery black stopping just shy of her elbow as the very same Necromancy sizzled from her disfigured fingertips.
Even Delilah's voice grew distorted, as she began chanting in a long dead tounge, her shrieking words echoing through the forest as the ground shook as if the earth itself was crying out for mercy. The shards of her power surged through the soil and tore toward the surrounding graves, her chants growing even more vicious as her body lurched forward, vile glowing streaks pulsing from beneath her collar and up her throat as she smashed both hands to the ground, purple flames scorching an all too familiar pentagram into the chalk like soil, exploding in a bonfire of magic as her chanting voice grew ever more distorted.
Dust was kicked into the air as high pitched shrieks filled the dead silent cemetery, the dirt beneath the sigil cracking, and spluttering under the pressure Delilah's ritual, culminating in a pillar of Necrotic energy bursting into the air, unleashing the puppets she would use to recover what rightfully belonged to her.
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Meanwhile after having concocted their escape plan Vox Machina crept toward the cellar of their home turned into a prison. All watched as Percy pressed himself against the stone wall standing before them, one ear pressed to it as his outstretched had felt its way along the uneven surface. "The thing about an old Keep like this... It's quite easy to miss small details." he uttered tapping his knuckles against the solid rock, moving a few inches every three knocks until the dull thudding became hollow, the pattering of flesh against timber echoing through the cellar as Percy pushed himself from the wall and gripped the well hidden edge of the passageways entrance.
Tearing it open completely, himself and Vox Machina were met with a cramped, never ending void of pitch blackness. But with no other means of escape, the Party, lead by Percy continued forth all walking single file as the White haired human stepped over the threshold, darting his head left to right, relying in his own memory to follow the path they needed.
With everyone present, they continued on their way one after the other as Vax's dry tone rang out through the dark. "Could do with some light, Pickle." he called, glancing back toward the Priestess nearest the end of the column who walked in tandem with Grog.
The Gnomish woman's strained grunts caught the Goliath's attention as he glanced down toward his pintsized friend. "You okay, Pikey?" he wondered as the stricken Cleric did everything she could to avoid his childlike gaze, amulet still clasped between both hands.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine." she hesitated, still holding onto hope she could reconvene with the Everlight soon, but alas everyone of her attempts had so far, been met with silence. "Keyleth, uh, can't you give us a little sunlight?" she inquired glancing back toward the Druid who was last in line.
Darting anxious eyes left to right, Keyleth took a single calming breath. "Me? I-I don't know. I've never tried. I get... Oh, just..." she murmured holding both hands inches apart using what power she could to conjure the party some much needed light, but it was to no avail as the little orb of lit she did create merely fizzled out in seconds leaving behind its dejected caster. "Oh, come on... Ugh. I can't do it. Sorry guys." she finalized sadly as they carried on.
Thankfully however, Ragnvaldr being the last to navigate the passage and shut it's entrance behind them, took one of the mounted torches from one of the many iron wall mounts in the cellar. Quickly, with the beacon of flame held high the Oldegårdian fell into step behind Keyleth as the flickering light illuminated their way just that little bit more.
Soon, no such source was needed, when they arrived at the hatch with gleaming moonlight piercing through the gaps moulded into the celling, awaiting silently as the Oldegårdian dropped his touch with a muffled clang and weaved his way to Percy's side. The man in question standing beside the lever to unlock their only means of escape, "Forget it. We're here." he spoke tugging on the release as the locks on the trap door above clicked open.
Choosing to go first, Ragnvaldr cautiously pushed the hatch open just enough to peek his eyes through the inch wide gap. Scanning the Keeps now empty courtyard, he spotted not one glimpse of any patrols. "It's clear. Come on." he hushed gently unlatching it fully and ascending into the crisp cool air of the night. But, as had become a running theme in his life since joining the band of merry adventures, it all went wrong as Jarett's squadron emerged from the darkness , weapons in hand raised right at the red-head still waist deep in the whole. "Fuck..." he chittered as the Captain of the guard himself stood before him.
"Oh, seriously?" Vex groaned from behind him followed by the rest of the Party's bitter complaints.
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Collapsing roughly to the cold floor of the dusty storeroom, Keyleth watched as one of Jarett's men heavily shoved Ragnvaldr inside alongside her, "Your group clearly can't be trusted, so we're separating you, like children." The Captain chastised as one of his fellow soldiers quickly shut the door and locked it behind the frustrated Oldegårdian as he turned to face where they once stood, enraged at the current predicament he and the Druid now found themselves in.
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Three fully grown, heavily trained and armoured soldiers tried their best to force a defiant Grog inside the room containing Pike's candle lit shrine. "No... No, don't..." The giant grunted through gritted teeth, clutching the frame of the doorway as the guards tried with all their combined might to force Grog inside.
"Grog, it's fine." Pike sighed as Grog's straining muscles loosened instantly, taking a single step backward as the guards all sighed in collective relief, slamming the door shut in his face.
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In the kitchen accompanied by Percy and Scanlan, both Half-Elf twins stood and watched as a blonde haired soldier raided the utensils, slashing open drawers and cabinets alike as he shoved everything that could be used as weapon into an open sack. "Aw, you can't take the cutlery! What if we get hungry?" Scanlan complained, pushing his way between the siblings leaving Percy to his own singular thoughts.
"Then eat a fuckin' sandwich." the human snapped, tucking the sack beneath his arm and slamming the wooden shut, shaking it's already fragile frame to the point of near collapse.
Instantly, as the door was locked from the other side Scanlan pointed his finger accusingly toward it. "Hey, I don't take orders from you, asshole!" he cried out, only to immediately relent as he wandered toward one of the many dozen storage cabinets. "Fine, I'll make a sandwich. But not 'cause he told me too." he scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in the air.
Percy followed suit, taking a seat once more at the head of the table, leaning both elbows atop it and locking his fingers together, not speaking a word to anyone as both Vex and Vax sent each other a quiet glance, strutting to the other side of the room. "I shouldn't have listened to Percy or Ragnvaldr. Their out of their minds." she uttered harshly pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb.
"Ah, they've certainly complicated things." Vax replied leaning against one of the two smaller tables lined either side with benches, while his sister pressed both hands against its cluttered top.
Unleashing a defeated sigh, the She-Elf relented, "I know, threating a member of the Council... What was he thinking?" she questioned glancing toward her brother only to be met with a single quirked eyebrow, as if he were asking his own silent question, that thankfully never came to fruition. Catching her own words however, Vex quickly changed the subject. "There's a way to make our situation simpler. You and I have escaped from worse." she informed, careful not to alert the brooding human nor the starving Gnome as he ravenously struggled to create his sandwich.
"Syngorn... huh." Vax pronounced, a look of realisation dawning on his face and he relaxed his guarded stance ever slightly.
When hazel eyes met with her twins own, an idea surged into Vex's mind. "Guards might catch the group, but not you and me." she whispered expectantly, folding one arm over the other awaiting Vax's answer eagerly.
"True..." The Rogue uttered leaning himself backward ever so slightly peering over Vex's shoulder with a quick side eye to see whether or not their company had decided to listen in.
Raising one eyebrow, his sister gripped her pointed chin between two fingers, one arm stretched across her chest as she two leaned closer. "We could." The Ranger pondered still.
Drawing his last remaining blade, kept hidden from The Captain's thieving grasp Vax spun the dagger effortlessly between his lanky digits, keeping his gaze locked toward his co-conspirator. "Then why aren't we?" he intoned, silently awaiting an answer, only to be met with a heavy sigh as Vex reeled back, shutting her eyes and rolling her head upward just long enough to re-open them, her regretful gaze falling upon both Percy and Scanlan who sat just feet away. The Gnome in question using his bare hands to smear butter across a piece of bread as his Noble companion watched with a mild disgust.
Although, it took little struggle to deter her conflicted mind from conjuring thoughts of the rugged red-headed Barbarian locked away in some other wing of their Keep. Now realising he was far more than just a mere Noble Savage she believed, but instead just like her was a lost soul, ever wandering in the world, haunted by their respective pasts as they did what was necessary to protect those closest them in some ill fated attempt to atone for their self imposed sins.
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Outside, patrolling the length of the tall defensive walls one of Jarett's dozen men kept his eyes forward and pointed spear braced against his shoulder, every now and then glancing into the dark void that shrouded the shrubs and bushes nearby. His only reprieve from the nights influence were the lit torches mounted to the wall level his shoulder, illuminating what little they could every few meters, as he continued on his way.
Weary of the deathly silence all around, the human passed another crackling torch only to feel a burst of woefully cold air brush past him, snuffing out the light as the very same shadow vanished from view, leaving him stranded in complete isolation. Immediately he prepared himself, gripping his pole-arm in both hands glancing toward the mounds of shrubbery as he saw yet more shadows moving between the gaps in the trees, circling all around him as inched closer with every passing second, almost as if to torment the solider only moments before his end.
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Surrounded by lit candles, imprisoned in the one room were she believed she could find solace Pike kneeled down before her shrine of worship, eyes tightly shut with fingers locked together face contorted with concentration as she channelled what little power remained to project her mind into a realm locked between the plains of existence in a desperate attempt to speak with her distressingly silent deity. "Oh, Come on." the Cleric hissed as her mind finally slipped into the realm between, met not with the searing holy light of Sarenrae but a near black, endless void, dusted with a thin layer of ethereal mist.
The clear water that always lay beneath her feet replaced by a sea of black tar as utter misery ruled the dimension. A far cry from the blissful sights that usually awaited her in her few audiences with the Goddess of light. "Everlight?" Pike whimpered, her voice reverberating deep into the void, with no answer from any such figure.
With her body encased in a fizzling projection of weakened magic she trudged forth through the never ending slime, eyes scanning the endless space as she went only to be met with not but deafening silence, the Everlight all but gone. Eventually, after minutes of travel she came to a grinding halt once more ceasing her search as anguish fell upon her face. "Everlight? Are you there?" she questioned once more, desperate for some sign of the spirit she held so much faith in. "Please..." she sniffled, feeling the connection slowly begin to crack as she heard thudding footsteps trudge ever closer to her still defenceless physical body.
However, despite the possible danger she held her composure, still determined in her hopeless search. But, before she could carry on, a heavy grip on her shoulder ripped her from Astral Projection and back into the real world with a shuddering gasp. "Oop. Sorry, Pikey." Grog's regretful, though none the less bellowing voice echoed as he released her and took a single step back, way from the heavily breathing Gnome. "You always talk in your sleep?" The clueless Half-Giant inquired, stealing a glance over the neatly laid out shrine.
"Uh, I... I was meditating. Trying to, anyway." she murmured, shoulders stiff as she turned back toward the warming flames of the candle light, her shoulder tense with both hands nervously rubbing one over the other.
Grog on the other hand, despite being the most gentle of the group allowed his own simple thoughts to rule the roost as his stomach rumbled loudly, eye rabidly searching for anything to fill the ever void deep within. "Mh. Gods, I wish we had some grub. Got to be something in here." he ruminated, beginning his search as he tore through the cluttered storage boxes Pike had moved to make room for her own possessions.
Lifting one of the small creates, The Goliath held it in his hands staring into the shallow container whimpering as if he were a wounded puppy, even going so far as to raise it eye level and stick his head inside out of desperation, only to promptly throw it to the ground as he traipsed to the other side of the shrine room and after seconds of more searching her lay eyes on a strangely shaped, almost oval clay jar laid upon the windowsill.
Without taking a moment to question its contents a wide, toothy smile splat across his face, "Ooh, what's this powder? Herbs and Spices?" he uttered uncorking the lid and peeking inside. Assuming Pike's lack of an answer was confirmation of his dim-witted assumption The Goliath opened his wide gob and poured the finely ground, grey ash into his mouth groaning sadly when he realised the dust had no taste.
"The ashes of my ancestors." A meditating Pike finally spoke up as Grog froze right on the spot, pulling the edge of the burial urn from his lips and unclasped his jaw allowing for what little he didn't swallow to cascade in a river of ash and dust to the floor, quietly placing the lid back on and, as if nothing happened and placed the urn back in its rightful place.
"Right..." The child-like Barbarian uttered as his beady eyes landed atop the red and gold amulet set atop the flattened stone. Gently he stepped up beside his friend and stared down curiously at the tiny, yet powerful jewel. "Oh, hey, do you use this to talk to your goddess?" he quired, delicately grasping the small item in his hand, balancing it flat in his palm. "Hello? This thing on?" he asked holding it close to his mouth, arrogant to Pike, whom while still kneeling with hands locked together had opened her eyes, a trail of tears bubbling as she bit her teeth to her lip. Trying desperately to hold in a sob next to her naïve, though closest friend.
Shutting her eyes tightly, droplets of tears dripped onto the stone she leaned upon, "Am I talking in the wrong end?" Grog wondered only to feel Pike's meagre weight collide with his own towering frame, her tiny arms doing their best to lock themselves around his tree-trunk like waist. "Um, Pike?" Grog muttered, his curious eyes instantly changing to ones of shock as he looked down at her head of snow white hair.
"After that spell hit me, the... The Everlight, i-it's like she can't hear me anymore." The Priestess stuttered, head pressed firmly to the males stomach as her breath hitched between quiet sobs.
No matter how strange or thick skulled Grog appeared, he would do or say anything his limited mind could conjure to make his friend feel better. "Oh. Well, I mean, when people can't hear me, I just shout louder." he chuckled honestly, though with a hint of nervousness as Pike didn't reply. "Um... You try that?" he breathed as soft as could be his large hands pressing themselves to the miniature Gnome's back.
"I don't know, Grog. I don't know anymore." Pike despaired allowing her tears to flow full force as she pressed her face to his side, seeking what little comfort his muscled torso could provide her.
Hesitating for just a moment, Grog then moved one hand to her head, running his fingers gently through Pike's hair. "Oh. Well, do you think she's mad you? I mean, maybe... Maybe you should just say sorry." he replied, a simple solution in mind as Pike pushed her self away, drying her tears with the cuff of her tunic.
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Outside, the grand entrance to the Keep itself a single Half-Orc guard stood watch, though not well as his shoulder lay braced against one of the ramparts with an arm curled around his spear, his eyes shut s he drifted in and out of a light slumber. Luckily however, before sleep could overtaken his being entirely the very same guard who raided the kitchen slapped the sharp toothed male upside the head, scowling as the lazy guard hesitantly straightened himself.
Glancing toward his glaring comrade, something lurked within the shadows as a pair of dead, though glowing eyes peaked from behind the corner just beside them. "Hey. Did you see something?" the Orc uttered tearing a torch from it's mountings as he watched the robed figure dart at break neck speed out of sight, though lingering long enough to send a cold chill down his spine.
Creeping forward ever so slightly, he stretched out his torch wielding arm ahead of them only for both of their beacons flame to snuff out in tandem, leaving themselves too trapped in the dark. Staring down at the burning embers in abject terror, a sudden gory crunch echoed from beside him a warm droplet dashed against the side of his face. "Hey... W-What in the..." he stuttered in disbelief as his comrade stood upright, a cascade of blackened sludge pouring from his mouth, his dead eyes wide open as his body spasmed violently. The very same liquid poured from his eyes as a clawed, pustulating arm locked itself around his torso while another gripped the side of the dying mans head.
Instantly the soldier was wretched violently toward the wall, gutral choking screams gurgling from his lungs as he was dragged from the ground and up the wall. The wraith's inhumanly strong grip tightening by the moment as his skull was violently crushed between bone and stone alike. Frozen on the spot, the hapless Orc did little to help his dying comrade as he called out to his Officer. "Commander Jarett!" he screeched as another arm locked him it's grip and lurched him forth, deeper into the darkness.
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Oblivious to the horrors outside, locked away from their fellow Protectors both Keyleth and Ragnvaldr sat in silence within the candle lit storeroom. The Oldegårdian stood closest the door, listening as yet another foot patrol passed the wooden barrier between him and freedom. Unbeknownst to the Druid, the experienced warrior was counting, not only the minutes between patrols, but the amount of footsteps that followed. So far, it seemed Jarett expected to hold the Keep with a mere squad instead of Garrison, a mistake on his part should Vox Machina retrieve their weapons.
Sat upon a now empty create, Keyleth curiously watched the taller human as he sighed heavily stepping from the entrance way and into the candle light flickering against the stone wall, leaning his back against it and quietly sliding to sit on the floor facing his only company. "So... Just you and me in here." she chuckled awkwardly, tapping her finger flat against her knees. "Uriel was mad, huh? We didn't ruin his entire dinner. Just dessert." the Air Ashari mulled, unable to handle the overwhelming silence as her company sat quietly, his emerald eyes barring down upon her as she spoke.
"I... I heard what you said, back at the Palace, we all did." She began as Ragnvaldr broke his gaze away, moving his hand beneath his long hair to rub at the rune etched into his flesh. "It's hard to believe the Council would take Aymon's side. Just being around him gave me the creeps." she shivered ever so slightly as a tiny near unnoticeable smirk stretched across Ragnvaldr's face. "I'm sorry, about your family. Things must've been... Hard, after." she hesitated, mentally slapping herself at saying something so obvious to a man clearly struggling.
Once more, the air fell heavy as Ragnvaldr dropped his head limply heaving an unsteady breath. "They were... I was just a boy, eight years old, if you can believe it. Just a pup without a care in the world, arrogant to it's cruel ways." he uttered solemnly, his eyes telling Keyleth all she needed to know as the flames were snuffed out. Replaced with the look of a man who wanted it all to be over and the violence to end. "I don't remember much, but the day my parents died and my people burned torments me even now." Ragnvaldr sniffed bracing the back of his head against the stone.
"Funny how the mind always feeds you the things, we try to forget..." the male spoke for the last time, allowing the room to fall once more into a comforting silence.
Keyleth snapped her gaze from the man as her own emerald orbs fell upon her fidgeting hands, a conversation she overheard between Percy and Vex about the man sitting before her ringing aloud in her mind. Even though, it was not her business, she decided against her better judgment to ask the dreaded question. "You aren't a Tribesman, are you?" she blurted quietly awaiting the moment the Outlander would wring her neck... But it never came.
"No... I'm not." He replied, unsure of why he would say such a thing to a woman he barely knew nor spoke with. Perhaps travelling with others had loosened his tounge more than he believed. "I'm from Oldegård... If you wish to insult me, spit on me. Go ahead, I've seen and heard it all before." the man said, preparing to meet the terrified gaze of those who discovered his origins. Only, Keyleth's was different. It held no malice, no hatred, no caution. Just understanding.
His brow furrowed as he shifted on the spot uncomfortably, his leg shaking up and down as he awaited Keyleth's next words. "You didn't tell anyone because you thought we'd chase you away." she breathed, "Scanlan might say something stupid, but the rest of us wouldn't care. All of us carry our own secrets. Though, it's not like we talk about this stuff all that much." she grumbled, tucking her knees to her chest and locking her arms just above her knees.
"So that's it? No blades? No calling me a mongrel and sending the town watch after me for the sin of drinking?" he scoffed as the pair eyes met for one final time, silent understanding hovering between them. Then, a tinge of realisation struck him. "How'd you figure it out?" he demanded softly, though with not enough vitriol to startle the younger woman.
"I overheard Vex and Percy talking. Pretty sure they've known for a while." she revealed to him as the man let out a deepened chuckle at the mention of the full hardy pair.
Releasing a single relaxed sigh, he spoke up once more. "Those two should really learn to mind their own business, eh?" he chortled as the Druid's light giggle mixed with his own. Soon, as the pairs laugh faded away, Ragnvaldr asked a simple question. "What about you? Hmm? Only fair you tell me something." he finished.
The tiny smile gracing Keyleth's lips faded in an instant, her bare shoulders dropping ever so slightly as her kicking legs fell to a dead stop, followed by a poignant silence. The man realising he overstepped with his own brand of interrogation. Before he could speak, however, Keyleth answered, her chipper tone all but gone. "I may never see my family again." she expressed minutely not meeting the Red-Headed males sympathetic gaze.
His bouncing leg slowed to a complete stop, "What?" he croaked, the guilt from bringing up such a memory eating away at him at the sight of her in such a state.
"Yeah. My Aramenté. I don't get to go home until I complete it and prove myself worthy." She chuckled hollowly, kicking her legs in tandem once more, her voice nothing more than a hushed whisper, "Which might not happen, so..." Keyleth quickly trailed off as Ragnvaldr gripped his fist tightly, frustrated at himself for forcing her to speak.
Adjusting himself upon the floor Ragnvaldr made his apologies immediately, "If I'd have known, I wouldn't have..." he groaned, tearing his head downward, shaking it as his own arrogance took hold.
"I'm just saying. I know you and Percy think you're alone. That we don't know what you're going through. But you don't have to be." Keyleth assured the reserved male, as his locked jaw loosened, his tired eyes meeting the Ashari's own.
"Thank you, Keyleth. Really." he stated with a kurt nod, sniffing indigently as he raised his head one last time, "For what it's worth. I think you damn worthy." the Oldegårdian encouraged as the two complete opposites shared one final smile.
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In the main hall way, at the news of the carnage unfolding in the courtyard, Jarett flanked by his remaining squad gathered at the towering doors leading to the outside. "Lieutenant, with me. Quickly." he commanded as the guard on watch unbarred the Keep's entrance pushed them open with all her might. As soon as they opened, the guards spread out, spaced a few feet from one another as each kept their weapons in hand. The light emanating from the Keep's interior illuminating the ground on which they stood.
"Where have the guards gone?" Jarett as he to drew his glinting, curved short sword stepping further out into the night away from the safety of the blinking flame inside. One of the men, slowly crept toward Trinket and Moonless, both Bear and Wolf still tied to the tree as one growled viciously, barring her teeth and arching her long body while the other lowly grumbled sat slightly further back as he to was upright on his paws. "Shh, shh." he hushed the pair, slowly approaching with one hand raised outward. "Hey, what's the fuss you two? Nothings out here." he calmed stopping to look down upon with a somewhat sympathetic expression.
However, in an instant, the guards body lurched as one of the creatures clawed appendages pierced his back and hauled him upwards into the tree and out of sight. Nearby, another soldier stood over one of her dead comrades slumped against the blood covered wall, his head crushed in a mess of meat and bone. The sight distracted her long enough for dozens of black tendrils to emerge from the void and lock themselves around her arms and legs, tearing her to the ground and dragging her kicking and screaming. All as Jarett watched on, helpless to save his men.
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"That doesn't sound good. We better warn the others." Pike insisted as she and ground heard the gut wrenching screams of the soldiers as they were dragged away or killed one by one. Growling beneath his breath the Goliath turned on a dime and bolted toward the locked door, the Cleric following as fast as her legs could carry her.
Turning toward his friend he pressed his hands against the solid wood, "It's locked. I don't want to wreck your shrine." he whined, unsure of how to proceed as the agony Jarett's soldiers endure continued outside.
Facing toward the three angled windows above her shrine, Pike realised the candles placed around it had snuffed themselves out as distant, inhuman screeches echoed aloud for all to hear. "Grog, do your Grog thing." she insisted with a defined nod, giving the Goliath all the permission her needed. Turning to face it, he took a single step back and raised his mighty boot, and with one swift kick, snapped the door from its hinges.
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Scanlan's loud obnoxious chewing irritated all those still trapped in the kitchen as a glob of sauce spilled onto one of the Grimoire's open pages. Groaning with a mouth stuffed full of food, Bard groaned as he took no care to preserve the writings themselves, smearing the sauce straight across one page in a vein attempt to clean it. Thankfully, before Percy, Vax or Vex could shut the Gnome up Grog burst open the doors violently, "Everybody up! Creepy shit incoming!" he warned as the unarmed adventures followed him to the main hallway.
With everyone in toe, Vox Machina listened to the hellish screeches filling the air outside, "What's happening?" Keyleth demanded, catching her breath from beside Ragnvaldr who said little, instead focusing on the set of doors ahead, preparing himself for the battle he and the others would inevitably endure.
"Where have the guards gone?" Percy chimed in just in time for the door fling open as Jarett followed by the his two last remaining comrades rushed inside, all panting heavily, struggling to catch their breaths, and swords held loosely at their sides.
Slamming it behind him, the Captain bolted them once more and leaned his back against it, "What did you do?" he demanded toward the bewildered party who had no idea who or what they all would soon face.
Instantly, as if no one else could be responsible all of the Party's gazes fell upon Scanlan, "D-Don't look at me. All I did was make a hoagie!" he cried out, holding the Grimoire close to his chest like it were a precious stone. At least, even without his lute the Bard could prove useful.
Snapping them from their aggravated trances, Jarett flanked by his remaining soldiers trudged toward Vox Machina, each one steeling themselves for a fight as the soldiers grips grew ever fiercer on the handles of their blades. "Five of my men are dead. If you didn't kill them, who did?" he demanded, only to have his unfortunate question answered mere moments later, as the candles in the chandelier above were snuffed out.
This time, the high pitched, soul breaking shrieks were right on top of them as the wraiths glowing, milky white eyes barred down at the living from the rafters. Only now revealing their pustule, rotting, skin barely concealed by long, tattered black robes.
"Chancing a guess it was them...."
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A/N: Another announcement for those of you curious. Recently I watched the Live Action adaptation of One Piece and really actually like it. So, seeing as I did, I thought why not start a book of my own for it too...
STAND BY YOU \\\ ONE PIECE
[NAMI X MALE OC]