Chapter Text
Gricko, for the most part, tried to live a life with more optimism and little regret. He preferred seeing the bright side of whatever life threw at him, like how he was sure that they’d get out of the Feywild and complete their quest. Of course, the rest of the Krew knew that. They just never thought they’d live to see the day. With many, many shenanigans, curses, and side quests, it was a miracle they found and awakened Zybilna, but they did and returned with more than they came with.
For one thing, they now have Torbek and Twig as their new members. Another was their new skills, power, and treasures that only doubled their fortune once Madryck Roslof held his end of the contract. A grand fortune, which included his cottage, since he died after they returned with a reply letter from his patron. He let out a heavy breath of relief and then dispersed into pixie dust that vanished into the wind with a line of his pixies, who flew off into the darkness of the swamps. And they didn’t scream or freak out at all, no matter what Tom the banjo player claimed.
The first order of business was paying off their debt. Kremy personally counted every gold coin they owed and delivered them to Remy Garou himself at the Hungry Catfish. And if Gideon followed close behind him, that was their business. Luckily, Garou accepted their payment, and that was the last they heard of their leader’s old boss. But to be better safe than sorry, they had Twig shrink the cottage like her inn and traveled far from Agwe until they found a secluded spot in a forest to unshrink it. So, without the threat of death, enemies, and debts, they moved on to their next order of business.
Renovating Roslof’s cottage.
The cottage seemed small and cozy, but after the warlock died, it literally transformed itself to fit the new owners. New rooms were added, the kitchen was expanded, and some areas were more spacious. Yet they seemed to be one room short, which justified Kremy’s decision to share the biggest room with Gideon, with no argument from the genasi.
“It’ll only be temporary,” Kremy reasoned.
“At least until we can make another room,” Gideon backed up.
No one dared to bring up that it’s been a month since they said that. It was just too funny. Everyone knew what the pair had wasn’t anywhere near the realm of irony, but pretended to agree (from a certain point of view). A lot of good came in just one month alone, so it paid to be optimistic. But there were a few decisions and actions Gricko regretted. Not listening to his mum about how his shins would get haunted for wearing his shorts, trusting a guy whose name had the word “Scurvy” in it, and getting engaged to that one pixie back at the Witchlight Carnival. A big one was forgetting Hootsie’s existence, and it took so long to find her. Though that last one was out of his control for the most part, it didn’t stop the bits of guilt whenever he recalled that. However, that now pales in comparison to what he’s doing now.
He had to take away Hootsie’s FlyPad.
“Hooooot!” Hootsie cried, stomping on the floor with a huff. Her FlyPad hovered above them thanks to Frost’s Mage Hand since the tabaxi agreed to back Gricko up in this rather difficult decision.
“It’s for your own good, Hootsie,” Gricko grimaced at how she pouted. At least she wasn’t shrieking. “You can’t be on your FlyPad all day like you’ve been doing lately. You need some off-screen time, and what better way to do that than to help clean up?”
Hootsie gave him a deadpan stare while Frost cleared his throat. “It is most rewarding once everything is done. A clean home makes everyone happy.”
Her deadpan stare deepened. For the past few weeks, the Krew had gone through Roslof’s occupied rooms that were filled with books, trinkets, antiques, and miscellaneous items that didn’t disappear like the warlock did. They couldn’t be stuffed into Kremy’s bag of holding, so it was up to Kremy, Frost, and Torbek to sort through everything. They’d divide them between things that they wanted to keep, give away, or sell for a hefty price.
“Just because we’re rich doesn’t mean we can’t make more money,” Kremy said as he and Gideon snickered at the idea of overcharging unsuspecting folks. It was a long, seemingly endless task, but they made progress. And they could do more with extra help, so Gricko volunteered himself and Hootsie to lend a hand.
Torbek’s voice echoed from one of the antique rooms, “Torbek thinks an actual reward would work better!”
Hootsie’s pout lifted, her tail wagged a bit as she chirped, eyes shimmering with childlike wonder that made Gricko’s heart squeeze. He sighed in defeat but smiled. “Alright, alright. How about this? Do a very good job helping today, and we’ll convince Uncle Kremy to make chocolate chip waffles for dinner. Sound good?”
“Hoot!”
“Atta girl!” Gricko hugged her, then pointed in the direction where Torbek was. “You can go help Uncle Torbek sort out old Roslof’s trinkets, and I’ll put your FlyPad in a safe spot.”
Hootsie zoomed down the hall and disappeared into one of the rooms. Torbek’s loud, cheerful greeting followed, which made him smile harder. Hootsie and Torbek were getting along more, just as much as she and Frost. Besides, who said an owlbear can’t have three dads? Not this goblin.
“Do you want me to put this away?” Frost asked, lowering the FlyPad into his hands. “We still have the second room of books to sort through.”
“No, no, you go on ahead,” Gricko grabbed the device that Frost gave with a little hesitation. “I’ll ask Kremy if I could put it in his bag of holding, it’s the safest place it’ll be since-”
KA-BOOM!
Everything shook around them. Wood and stone creaked, some glass items crashed, miscellaneous items thumped, and dust rained down. The shaking lasted a few seconds until everything got still again, apart from the burst of dark smoke outside. They looked out the window and saw Gideon emerge from the smoke, who then released heavy, out-of-breath laughter from the adrenaline he must’ve had. Twig flew out from behind him, also laughing but coughing between them due to the smoke.
Furious footsteps and a thump of a cane followed as an angry alligator stormed past Gricko and Frost, slammed the door open, and marched outside.
“GIDEON NATHANIEL COAL! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!”
Oh, he had to see this. Gricko quickly followed outside, waving Frost off, “I’ll be right back!” Frost simply sighed and rolled his eyes, but made his way to their assigned room to clean up.
Once Gricko was outside, he saw that the smoke faded away and heard Kremy scolding and fussing over Gideon with a handkerchief at hand, getting covered in ash and soot. Gideon didn’t seem to mind, only chuckling and assuring Kremy that all was well and that he had an engineering breakthrough. Gricko approached Twig, who noticed him and waved.
He waved back and gestured for her to lower herself to his level. Once she did, he whispered, “So what happened out here? Did Gideon make a bomb or something?”
“Oh no, no bombs,” Twig shook her head, gesturing to the spot on the ground that was now a dark, burnt crater. “Gideon just figured out how to make legs that can connect to the basement and transform it with them! We got excited, and I passed him the wrong tool, so one of the legs exploded.”
“Oh? What did you give him?”
“A bottle of whiskey.”
Gricko wheezed and fell on the ground laughing. He kept laughing even when Kremy called Twig over and snapped his fingers several times to get the ash off her.
“Wha-Hey! How come you didn’t use that on me?” Gideon whined, though he grinned so they knew it was all good fun. Kremy’s handkerchief only cleaned his face and bits of his hands, so he was still dirty, but he also wasn’t complaining.
“Because you’ll just get yourself all dirty again, and I'd rather not waste my energy prestidigitating you every time you set off an explosion,” Kremy replied with feigned exhaustion, followed by a knowing smirk.
“Well, you guys seem to be getting busy. Gricko, think you can help me clean this mess up a bit while they flirt?” Twig flew back to the goblin, who finally stopped wheezing. But he giggled at how the pair made no comment on Twig’s statement, lost in their own game of flirtation.
“Alright, but just a bit ‘cause I gotta help Frosty with the books inside.”
He helped move the debris that wasn’t hot to touch or too heavy into a pile on a spot Twig picked. Soon enough, Gideon joined in moving the heavier parts into a pile while Kremy went back inside. Once Twig assured him that his assistance was no longer necessary, he made his way back inside to hear Frost’s voice from the kitchen.
“Kremy, would you mind making chocolate chip waffles for dinner tonight?”
“Well, I suppose I can, but why the sudden request?”
“Gricko and I promised Hootsie waffles for dinner if she got off her FlyPad and helped with the cleanup. I just wanted to be able to keep our word to her.”
FlyPad? Wait…Gricko suddenly realized how empty and light his hands were. Did he ever ask Kremy for his bag of holding? No. Then that meant he still had the device. Where did he last have it then? He had it when he went outside, right before he helped Twig clean up their mess.
“Oh no,” he gasped and ran back outside just to hear a loud THUMP and CRASH of burnt and smothering debris hit the spot where he last stood. Gideon had thrown the last of the debris, and with a quick snap of his fingers, he set the pile on fire to finish the job.
“NOOO!”
[ ] [ ] [ ]
The FlyPad was recovered from the pile, but it was also burnt beyond repair. Its charred remains lay in the center of the dining table where Gricko sat, face planted and groaning as his subconscious drowned in guilt and regret. Hootsie was crying in her room with Twig, trying to comfort her while everyone else was downstairs with Gricko. Except for Kremy, who busied himself in the kitchen to make extra chocolate chip waffles.
“I’m real sorry, lil’ green,” Gideon apologized once again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should’ve double checked that spot.”
“No, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know I was a horrible father who left his daughter’s favorite plaything to be burnt to a crisp after he promised to keep it safe.”
“Torbek doesn’t think you’re a bad father,” Torbek patted Gricko’s back. “It was an accident.”
“I’m sure we can replace it; we have the funds to do so now,” Frost picked up the destroyed item and inspected it. “It was pretty old; an upgrade was necessary at this point.”
“But now she hates me!”
“Torbek doesn’t think so.”
“No, she does! I’m the worst papa ever!” Gricko cried on the table, getting his tears and snot all over, while the rest tried to assure him that he wasn’t. However, their words meant nothing since he refuted their claims with more declarations that he was, in fact, a horrible father. It went on for a good ten minutes until the kitchen door swung open and a bowl was slammed next to him. He jumped from the sudden noise and saw Kremy with his arms crossed and an annoyed expression.
“Are you going to sit there and whine like a bitch who’s staining the table, or are you going to get up and figure out how to make this up to your daughter?”
“But I don’t know how?” Gricko sniffled, trying to wipe his nose with his arm, but it was useless. “What if nothing I do works?”
“Just give her space and pull yourself together, for Baron’s sake,” He picked up the bowl with the waffle batter to continue mixing it. “And clean this up!”
With that, Kremy went back into the kitchen, muttering out loud while his tail twitched, “We got a lot of things to sort through. We don’t need familial drama to slow things down.” He slipped through the door with a final huff. “A bad father? Fucking bullshit.”
Everyone stared at the kitchen door in stunned silence, not entirely sure what to make of that brief interaction. Gideon forced out a cough in a poor attempt to hide his chuckles at the gatorkin’s poor attempt at cheering their friend up.
“Torbek doesn’t understand anything that just happened,” Torbek whispered to Frost. “Should Torbek be worried?”
Frost only shrugged, then cleared his throat to grab the others’ attention. “Perhaps we should busy ourselves with our original tasks. It’ll help clear our minds and brainstorm ideas while giving Hootsie time to calm down.”
“I guess you’re right,” Gricko wiped his eyes, a little laugh escaped from him as he grinned at Gideon. “I guess Kremy’s a big old softie like you, big red.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Gideon smacked his shoulder and sauntered back outside. “Good luck.”
With Torbek’s help, Gricko cleaned the table, thanked the bugbear, who went back to the room he was working in, and then followed Frost. They passed the living quarter when they heard muffled whimpering chirps and hoots from one of the rooms upstairs. Whatever newfound hope Gricko had immediately disappeared as he winced at the sounds. Frost led him away until they reached a small room that was one of many of Roslof’s studies filled with old books. Outside the door was a line of cardboard boxes on the right and left. Some were sealed up, while the rest were still empty.
Gricko peeked inside and realized why Frost needed the extra help. The pixies did a fine job keeping everything clean and dust-free before they left, just not a good job with organizing them. There were chests and cardboard boxes, either full or overflowing with hardcovered books, some with loose paper sticking out of them. The boxes were scattered about into towering piles that blocked the only window, which made the room itself dimmer than the others.
“We’re dividing these up into boxes that we’ll keep, sell, or donate.” Frost used his Mage Hand to lift the boxes out of the way to let some more sunlight in. He gestured to the left side of the room. “You’ll be sorting through this side. Put anything that gives off any magical presence that we don’t need in the sell pile. Anything else is up to you, but I should warn you that Kremy made it clear not to keep too many nonsensical books.”
“Right, right, I can do that,” Gricko mumbled, grabbing a nearby stool to sit on as he began rummaging through the closest box.
Frost gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and said through his mind, “She’ll be alright. Give her time.”
With a nod, the pair got to work. They worked in silence for a good hour, and it wasn’t the good kind. Frost glanced over at Gricko several times, noting how he barely skimmed at the titles before tossing them into the donate pile. But at least he placed some in the sell pile, so his magical detection wasn’t affected. Still, the silence dragged on for too long for his liking. Gricko didn’t even make one Deez Nuts joke, and he found several titles that would trigger that line of comedy. However, it was better to give him space as well, so Frost carried on with his task for the time being.
After another hour, they were halfway through the room, and Gricko seemed to be in some internal pain as his book tossing slowed down. Frost carefully took a peek and saw the wheels turning in the goblin’s mind, tossing different ideas and plans around that made his head spin. He couldn’t interfere with this thought process; he promised not to anymore unless asked to.
“I’m going to bring some tea,” He got up and left the room, noting the mumbled grunt of acknowledgement from Gricko, who kept his gaze on the books. He almost looked close to passing out, given how he swayed a bit. He’ll have to add the extra soothing kind of blend.
Gricko, on the other hand, tossed any book that didn’t have any magical influence into the donate pile. What was the point of keeping any of them when Hootsie was upset? None of them held the answer to his struggles, so they were just useless. He had to use all his critical thinking skills he had to figure out how to be the world’s best papa again.
Encyclopedia of Banjos
Toss.
Buying a new FlyPad was the obvious answer, and Frost made a good point about having the funds to do so with ease. Even got the latest upgrade that he had put off getting for a while. But obtaining one was going to take a while. After all, they were in the middle of a forest, pretty far from any nearby village, town, or city that sold some, and the closest would probably take a few days of travel. He couldn’t wait that long. He had to cheer up his daughter today!
Chronicles of Swallow Falls
Toss.
Buying Zee Bucks could be a start, but their current location still posed the same issues. Even then, Zee Bucks wouldn’t be enough to make up for the FlyPad. Maybe he could get her rat snacks, spend the rest of the day in the forest hunting for rats? Yeah, that could work-
The Epic Tidings
Hmm, it has some elemental magics in it…Toss to Sell box.
But Kremy’s already making chocolate chip waffles, and giving Hootsie too many rat snacks would spoil her appetite. He didn’t want to add a stomachache to the growing list of horrible things he’s done.
Book of Classic Feytales
Dormant magic that feels old? Toss-Wait!
Gricko scrambled over the pile, fell face-first, and crawled to the box the book was tossed into. It was an emerald leather book with a silver silhouette of a pixie in the center and the title in golden cursive. He reread the title. It said Feytales, alright! His mum had always wanted to read him some, but couldn’t find any that were translated from Common to Goblinoid. That didn’t stop her and Uncle Glorbo from improvising and writing their own version for her to read to him every night. Gold, princesses, pixies, curses, adventures, true loves, and magic galore. All with happy endings that made young Gricko so happy. And when he was an adolescent teenager, she’d read them to him whenever he got sick, hurt, or upset.
Such fond memories made him determined to find a proper book of those tales after he adopted Hootsie. He still regaled his mum’s versions during bedtime when she was a cub, and after meeting Frost, they improvised more tales for her. In their travels, they either didn’t find a proper feytale book or couldn’t afford it because, apparently, they’re classics that had to look fancy to be sold and had high prices. But he promised the young owlbear cub that someday, when they find one, he’ll get it and read her all the fun feytales he and his mum dreamed about.
And now he had one, right in his hands, just when they needed it most! He opened to the page where it had the different titles listed: "Little Red Riding Cloak", "Jack and the Grapevines", "Emberella", "The Steadfast Tin Paladin", "Philocchio", "Beauty and the Bullybeast", and "Swan Swamp".
There were more titles after them, but they were written in some sort of ancient text. At the very bottom of the page, there was more text written in red ink that said: Complete these tales of fey to reveal the rest hidden away. But take heed and never mock the words you will read. No wonder he felt some magic in this book. It seemed simple enough; he’ll read them all tonight and unlock the rest for the next few nights.
He’s already familiar with some of them! And the new ones can be a fun surprise for him and Hootsie. This was foolproof! Now, all he had to do was recruit some help.
“Frosty!”