Chapter Text
Keg leaves.
Caleb thinks she apologizes, or tries to. There are raised voices; hers and Beaus. All he knows for certain is that when he starts cataloguing his surroundings again, Keg is no longer there.
He should have left. He should have saved himself from this. Compounding losses are not conducive to his goals. He should not care enough about these people he has known for only a month to be so hurt about their deaths.
But Mollymauk Tealeaf lies lifeless on the ground, yards away, the slow bleeding of his body turning the ostentatious rainbow of his attire to dull blacks and browns.
His chest aches, as though filled with smoke, choking him.
Maybe if he left they would have been less stupid. They would not have tried to take on seven with four, that would be ridiculous.
Taking on seven with five was ridiculous. It did not stop them.
They were just a bunch of assholes. This was inevitable. He should have foreseen it.
“-we go? There’s a- there’s a time limit probably, can’t leave him too long, he- we have to be fast. Maybe the firbolg lady, what’s-her-name, she could do something?”
Beau is rambling. Has been, for a while, since Keg left. He had not been paying attention.
“She can’t,” Nott answers. Her voice is gentle, placating, but Caleb hears an edge of desperation in it. “We asked about the horses, and she couldn’t do that. She doesn’t have powers like that.”
“Molly isn’t a horse. There are- there are resurrection spells, I read about shit like that. Jester talked about it, they probably don’t work on animals, that’s why-“
“Beau, he’s gone. Sometimes people die, and they don’t come back-“
“Shut up, okay?! You want to just leave him here? The fuck we’re supposed to do with only three of us? There’s magic-“ She cuts herself off, then gestures violently in Caleb’s direction. “Maybe Caleb’s got some, magic shit or something?”
Caleb looks at her, wide eyed and angry and lost, and is struck by how young Beau looks. She must be barely twenty.
“I… do not have ‘magic shit’ that will fix this, no,” Caleb says quietly.
Beau drops her hands, dejected.
“What should we do, Caleb?” Nott asks.
They are both staring at him now, looking to him for guidance. Deferring to the leadership he did not want.
He should not even be here.
He thinks quietly for a moment. Calls Frumpkin, orders him to land on Beau’s shoulder. Beau scratches absentmindedly at the owl while Caleb contemplates, rubbing his face for the stimulation.
Eventually, he speaks.
“We are very beat up and we are very out in the open here. We cannot go forward to the Shady Creek, because we will encounter the Iron Shepherds there and they have promised to murder us if we are seen,” Caleb explains, as calmly as he can manage. “We have to turn back. We travel back for a few hours, make camp, and then we can rest and discuss options.”
“That sounds like a good plan, Caleb.” Nott reassures. Herself or him, he does not know.
Beau is silent, a hand buried in Frumpkin’s feathers.
“Ah,” Caleb starts. “Let us get the tapestry, and help me… help me move him."
Beau and Caleb lay Molly’s body on his elaborate tapestry, wrapping him in it. Caleb immediately feels twinge of regret at this decision, watching some of the blood start to soak into the embroidered cloth. Another piece of Mollymauk, ruined by his own blood.
He reminds himself that this is much more practical than carrying him around as is, and helps lift the tiefling’s corpse onto a horse. Molly is completely covered in his bundle, save a decorated tail hanging limply out of one side.
Keg left without a horse (Caleb does not know why, and he does not care), leaving them with three. Caleb and Beau each take one, while Nott rides with Molly secured to the back of hers.
They ride silently, at a much slower pace than before. Caleb’s body feels cold as he rides, the hair on his neck standing on end, prickling sensations like ice on his back, his chest, his waist. He must push forward. There is no time.
After two hours of travel, the cold abruptly leaves. Caleb is hit with an acute sense of panic in its absence, hysteria clawing at the back of his throat. He chokes it down, muttering to himself that it is alright, it is alright, it is alright, it is alright… and the cold returns, icier than before. The numbness is comforting, and he embraces it. He concludes it must be shock, but it is preferable to the creeping panic attack he managed to avoid.
They continue for another hour before they retire, too exhausted to continue. The cold leaves when they settle, but the panic thankfully does not take its place.
They do not bother with tents. Caleb starts a fire with wood Beau gathers, and Nott rolls out the bedrolls. They place Molly on one. Maybe they can even pretend he is just asleep.
Nott passes her flask around and everyone takes a healthy swig. When it returns to her, she chugs much more than a healthy swig, then looks to both of her companions.
“So,” she starts, slurring, “planning. Gotta plan. What’s next, what do we do?”
“Fuck this,” Beau supplies unhelpfully.
“Fuck you!” Nott replies shrilly.
“We should have gotten Jester, she could have done something! Why the fuck did we just leave?”
“I did not hear you offering any objections,” Caleb snaps. “We do not know if she was even in those carts, and we could not take on the Shepherd assholes anyway.”
Beau stands up, hands coiling to fists.
“I could have killed that fucker! I could have knocked him on his ass, I could have-“
“You wanted to,” Caleb glares. “We could do nothing. We had bad information. We were outnumbered and far outmatched. Our friends are either dead or they are not. If they are dead we cannot help them now, and if they are not we still cannot help them now. We had to help ourselves.”
Caleb is not sure how he is spewing rational thought despite shaking with anger, but he supposes that is his role now. Fjord is not here.
“So what? We just give up on them? Go on our own, fuck the Mighty Nein, we’ll just be the Mighty Dree?”
“Drei,” Caleb corrects thoughtlessly.
“Whatever the fuck!” Beau snaps, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we can’t do the shit we’ve been paid for with only three of us. We apparently can’t even go to the damn town we have to go to-“
“Ja, it would not be smart-“
“Shut up, I’m fucking talking!” Beau scoffs. “I lost my train of thought. Who put you in charge anyway?”
“Me,” Nott pipes up.
Beau whirls on her.
“Yeah? You think he’s so fucking perfect don’t you? And I’m some fuckup kid who doesn’t know what I’m doing?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Nott agrees.
Caleb does not agree, and knows that was the very wrong thing for her to say.
“Well fuck you! You don’t need me! You-“ Beau flails in Caleb’s direction. “You’re obviously only trying to be friends with me because I’ve got dirt on you! I don’t give a shit, go off and be your dynamic duo of merry psycho murderers without me, I don’t care!”
“Beau-re-gard.” Caleb scolds as she storms off.
“You sound like my fucking father!” She calls back, not stopping.
She disappears into the brush.
It is quiet, for a while.
This was a mistake.
But Caleb does not have to leave if everyone else leaves him.
It is what he deserves.
“You should go, too, Nott,” Caleb whispers. “I cannot do anything for you. I cannot help you. I am a useless garbage person.”
Nott looks at him for a long time, not saying anything. Finally, she lets out a large sigh.
“I know you don’t know how good you are. How intelligent, and powerful- don’t argue with me!” She cuts him off when he opens his mouth to object. “You have incredible potential and I want to see you grow.”
Caleb scoffs, burying his head in his hands. He should have never left the asylum. He suffered there, but he deserved it. He could not hurt people there, locked away. He could not fool people into caring about him.
“Also… I don’t think anyone else would be okay hanging around a goblin. So it’s not just that I like you,” Nott mused, a little too honestly. “You’re kind of one of the only people who wouldn’t just kill me, for being a goblin. Everyone else who I know wouldn’t, well, they’re kind of kidnapped or dead or pissed off.”
“Nott…”
“Should I stop? I should stop, I’m not helping anymore am I? I should stop.”
“Ja, please, stop. I do not want to talk anymore right now.”
Beau comes back an hour later. Her knuckles are bloodied, and there’s kohl smeared in several places across her face. She wipes snot from her nose with the back of a fist.
“I… punched some trees.” She explains.
When no one responds, she drops down to sit in front of the fire.
What a crew they were.
Three assholes, beaten and bruised, staring at a flickering fire. Missing half of their group with a corpse laid out nearby. All angry at each other. Too stubborn to be the first to break the silence
Caleb had a plan. He was not sure if it was worth vocalizing. It was not like anyone actually wanted to hear it, but he knew that they had to do something. They should return to Hupperdook, regroup and restock. They could search for a cleric there. If they did not find one willing to help, they could return to Zadash. It would be unpleasant, but they should inform the Gentleman of the situation anyway, convince him that they could do him a greater favor with more time… and there would certainly be clerics for hire there, if they get there in time…
Caleb is disrupted from his thoughts by the rustling of a small bag. He looks up and sees Beau with a handful of brown powder. Skein.
“Ah, I do not think-“ Caleb is confronted with an intense glare before he finishes, and wisely shuts up, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
Beau scowls, downing the crushed mushrooms and leaning back against a tree.
Caleb leaves her be, content to stare back into the fire.
Until Beau lets out an undignified shout, kicking out into the air in front of her. Caleb and Nott startle, looking to her with abrupt attention.
“What the fuck- how the fuck- Ugh!” Beau angrily grabs a rock from behind her and throws it in the same direction she kicked.
“Uh, Beau, are you okay-“ Nott starts, but Beau doesn’t hear.
“Are you laughing? Is this- is this funny to you, you asshole?” She’s spluttering to no one. “Is this some kind of joke? I’ll kill you myself!”
And Beau launches herself at nothing, tumbling almost comically as she tackles thin air. Rolling onto her ass, she lets out an angry snarl.
“Beau, what is happing.” Caleb asks flatly, too confused and drained to emote.
Her focus snaps to him, then back to nothing, then back to Caleb. He watches something unknown click in her brain, and she strides over to him while rummaging in her robes. She grabs his wrist and pulls one of his hands open, and dumps foul smelling brown powder into it.
“Eat it,” She commands, starting to force Caleb’s hand towards his mouth.
“Beauregard, I do not want- this is not-“
“Shhhh, just, trust me okay?” She insists, pushing with less force but not letting up. “I’m sorry I blew up or whatever, but you need to take this, just trust me. Shit’s weird and I need you to see it.”
Caleb stares at her and wonders how he got involved with such crazy people, and why he is actually considering listening to this particular crazy person. But he is tired, and allows Beau to guide the drug to his mouth.
It is not long that he feels the effects of the skein. First, he feels all of his muscles coil and tense, and he fights it with renewed panic. He manages to get it to subside, and focuses on the other sensations. He’s lightheaded, his mouth is dry. His eyesight is slightly distorted, like looking through thick glass, and he starts to notice organic shapes float about vision. He looks around in curiosity, cataloguing strange creatures of various shapes and sizes, before Beau roughly grabs his face and redirects his wandering eyes to the point she is most interested in.
Sitting there, smiling gleefully and waving with all of his fingers, is one whole Mollymauk Tealeaf.