Part 2: The meeting of paths

"Ah." Reflexively, Sable begins to think through the abjurations and other protective incantations with which he could prepare them to face such weapons. His outward response is rather more blasé. "Well, I suppose that we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Regardless, I know that I can rely on the both of you to be discreet, or you would not have seen what you just did. For now, I can remain Sable and shall see where that takes me, or if, perhaps, another face might better suit our needs. The two of you know who I am, no matter what we call me. I fear that we would have to travel very far indeed for prying eyes to no longer be a concern."

Lilliana turns to grin at Akiran's praise, chuckling slightly. "Well, I'm not sure if I would say that I kept a clear head the entire time." Inwardly she winced at all the times she ran screaming from the fight this day, but... if they only knew, they would understand, wouldn't they? She turns and looks at him when his voice turns serious and she nods earnestly at his words. She wondered just how much this fellow recognized in her with the words he spoke, but that part about trusting in herself. 'He's right. I need to trust in myself and these powers that I have. I don't need anything else, except some good people to watch my back.'  With those thoughts she feels a tingling itch spread between her shoulder blades, like something moving beneath her skin and she cannot resist the urge to reach back and scratch there as they walk.  She lets out a long breath when Akiran mentions Sable, that strange wizard that the group knew from before, but was different. 'So he has gone by another name before. I knew he would be problematic. Best keep your distance.'  She presses her lips together. "Yeah, that's a problem. I have a hard time talking with someone that is full of bullshit, but maybe." 'Hypocrite.'   "Let's rejoin the others, maybe we can find a way to fix things with Thezra. I do not want to see this group fracture. Come!"  She grabs his massive hand in her own and grins as she starts trying to pull him along as she starts to run to catch up to the others. 

Looking back to the wizard as he explains, Ascian hesitates. Ever since he'd learned his true name it had been difficult for him to attach one, caught somewhere between the lies the man had spun and the half-truths sprinkled between all of them. The addition of Sable  to the mix only adds one more in a myriad already as grey as the colors Thrandimir had favored. From what he gathers, it's exactly how the wizard likes it – but the options leave Ascian paralyzed. For a long moment he looks to Katrin before back to the wizard.  "Let's go there soon," he says at last, for lack of other answers. "Wherever that is. So it's real."

Katrin looks at Sable, a slight frown creasing her own brow. "What is  your name? Was your name? Since we're all being honest with each other."

Sable steps close to Katrin, leaning down to murmur the words in her ear. "There are some who call me... Tim."

She raises an eye, pressing her lips together to suppress a smile. "Thank you," she says, warm sincerity in her eyes. She glances at Ascian, then back to....Sable. That would do, for now. Until he was ready to be someone else. Maybe someday he would be Tim again.  "We should find everyone else," she says at last, reluctantly. "There's a lot of words to be had."

Ascian watches the wizard answer Katrin's question, wondering when that truth will be universal. The face may not be Tim, but the spirit is – isn't it? He has to believe it is, or else what little he has to hold on to is lost. "Alright," he agrees reluctantly, that familiar tension beginning to rear at the thought of reprising the argument that had happened in the tunnels. "Ember and I are going to leave if there's more fighting." Beckoning the wolf, he moves toward the front of the alley, before he stops and looks back at Katrin, blinking owlishly. "Oh. I can speak in your mind." He pauses. "Since we're being honest."

Katrin blinks in mild surprise, but ends up simply nodding. "I sincerely hope no more fighting comes of this. If we cannot find some way to get through to her....I'm not sure what will happen."

Sable shrugs and follows Katrin back towards the tavern. Nevertheless, he can't help but feel that they are entering with a more united front than when they left. It's a weirdly warm feeling. "That was one of the first things that he did when we met," the wizard chuckles, remembering how they'd made a deal over a card game in the Fireblade tavern. "Ash, your quest for a 'real' me could see us all the way to the wildlands... let's see where our travels take us."

Far removed from the words of affirmation, quieted personal revelations, and sincere declarations of trust the rest of the group had shared together over the way back, Thezra found herself where she seemed to so often find herself — alone. The path back through the tunnels and up to the tavern above was her only companion, its dreary walls and weathered stones provided a disquieting air of familiarity to her, and she found the returning solitude a welcome friend to accompany her thoughts. Familiar as the feeling was, it remained as discomforting as ever, of course.  And so, whether to find some solace somewhere more comfortable or simply because, her thoughts carried her back to Ore’agah, and the last few weeks she’d spent there. The jeers and jabs she’d endured had stung worse than anything anyone here could say to her, she knew that — spirits knew the tears she’d shed each night, alone in her bedroll on the plains, far from the purview of any who could have seen such moments of vulnerability — could attest to it. And yet in an odd sort of way she found herself yearning for them now. It was simpler then.  Her certainty that Duar’ken had been the true devil, not her, had allowed her to brush the worst of the assaults, both verbal and physical, off. Even if the whole world hates me, if I believe in myself I can endure it.   But now was different. These people had never trusted her, not from the moment she first arrived, and that had always been fine. It wasn’t as if she’d been particularly trusting of any of them either. But she hadn’t come to them seeking friends or even allies, but enemies of her enemy, and to this point they had been. So why did she find herself like this now? The blistering snarl etched on Akiran’s face popped into her mind once more, but the image that truly sent a feeling of pain down into the pit of her stomach was Katrin’s, full of disappointment and rejection. Of all of them, she’d felt closest to the dwarf — thought she understood her more than they did of yet — but even she had rebuked her. Every word did nothing but dig a deeper hole . Kicking a small stone along the path with her, she trudged onwards. And thus she found herself back home, back in the warmth of the fire flickering gently in the hearth beside where she sat before Rata as her aunt tended to yet another gash across her face. “You know grelka, an island has no need for bridges,”  Even now she could hear so clearly the woman’s soothing tone, as crisp as the on day she fled. “Islands are strong. They bear the brunt of the sea at their shores and bestow bounties of fruits to their denizens. An island can survive just fine on its own.”  Rata stood up, silhouetting herself in the soft light shimmering through the window behind her, enveloping Thezra in her shade as she placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.  ”An island can survive just fine on its own. So why do they build bridges then?” In a low tone, Thezra mutters to herself deep under her breath down in the tunnels. “To thrive.”

The disparate groups and individuals meet up back at the Sluicegate tavern. The silence at the table is palpable, thick enough that one could slice it and serve it at a dinner buffet. The bartender, Petey, approaches the table and stands there for a moment, scanning the group. Then, he speaks, shattering the silence with all the gracefulness of a two-legged horse learning to dance. "Bad day, huh? I think I know what you all need."  The human disappears back behind the bar for a few moments and then returns with a dusty, dark-colored bottle and six glass tumblers. He sets the glasses down in front of each of them, and pops the cork on the bottle. A fragrant smell wafts out as he pours -- honey and floral laced with the harsh bitterness of alcoholic fumes. With a rough sound, he sets the bottle down on the table and smiles. "I'll bill you later. Wave me down if you need anything else."

For the second time that day Akiran scales ripple into a Dragonborn smile as the honey laced fumes waft into his snout. With a quick "Thanks Petey, you may quite literally be a life saver" Akiran reaches for the bottle and carefully begins to pour the drinks. Passing one to Thezra first, then Lilli, then the rest of the party, finally pouring one for himself. Looking around the crew he says "Before we get in to it, let's take a bit and celebrate. We stopped a cult, killed Duar'ken. Again. And made it out with all of us alive, and no one to banged up. That's a hell of a good day right?" He then raises his glass and shouts the draconic word for cheers " ilepkiric" And downs his glass, slamming it into the table

As the drink is slid over to her, Thezra grasps it in both hands and lets the cold of the glass seep in through her skin. At the dragonborn's toast, she gives a slight nod and lift of the drink, taking a deep sip and setting it down once more. " Kumash damun ." She meets his gaze and then looks about the table, feeling the weight of the hour start to fall upon them all. At the very least, she could certainly take some slight solace in what he'd said. She had no doubt the cult was far from completely stopped, and she had her own reservations on the finality of Duar'ken's second  death in as many weeks, but still. A victory is a victory, no matter how large or small. "You speak true there. If that were  all  that were to come of today, it would be enough."

Lilliana nods to Akiran as he places the glass in front of her and follows his lead as he raises his glass high. "ilepkiric!"  She own melodic voice seeks to match the tone of Akiran's rougher voice. She winces a bit at the scent that assaults her nostrils as she raises the small glass to her lips before tipping the contents back and down her throat. She immediately coughs and gasps at the sudden burn in her throat, doubling over and clutching the little glass in her fists. It is several moments before she regain control of herself and clears her throat. When she speaks again, her voice is rough and nearly hoarse. "That was not what I expected." She laughs a bit, eyeing the bottle dubiously. 

Katrin stares at her cup, but makes no move to drink. She gives a curt nod to the proclamations of success and victory. But the events of the past few hours still sit sour on her tongue.

"Ilepkiric!" Sable declares enthusiastically along with Akiran. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically after how much he's already drunk while talking on the front step with Katrin. Alcohol has loosened the wizard's tongue and perhaps led him to unveil things that he might otherwise have kept to himself. Either way, Thezra's words are answered only by a loud snoring. Sable's head is lolled back in his chair, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging slightly open.

Akiran savors that small moment of happiness that emerges after the first drink of the night, that moment where everything is perfect. Before it all goes to shit and reality comes swinging back. Looking around as the sweet liquors taste still clings to his tongue and lightly burns his throat as it goes down. He notices Katrin and Ash glasses are untouched.   He had expected Ash not to partake, but he had never seen a dwarf leave a glass undrunk. Pouring himself another glass as he leans, towards the dwarf. in as quiet a voice as the Dragonborn can manage he says "I do not like speaking about where I was born, but there is a bit of wisdom there if nothing else. An elder in my village had a favored phrase, he loved to bring out when times were tough. He would always say that you must sing the good before cutting out the evil. For how else will the people know the bounty of good and the waste of evil, if those with knowledge remain silent." His attempted quiet tone taking on a sermon like quality as he recites the phrase, before returning to his usual tone and pushing her glass towards her  "We have a lot to hash out tonight, might as well sing the good before we wallow in the shit." holding his glass out and up as he waits for her decision.

Katrin sits back, taking in the Dragonborn's face. His demeanor. His body language. Her eyes flicker down as her drink is pushed towards her, then back up to Akiran's held out drink, presumably waiting for a toast.  "Prost!" A great cheer erupts in the large stone hall, a sea of dwarves drinking and cheering and feasting. For over 300 years, Clan Ironstone has been the pinnacle of quality in weaponry and armor across all of Hol, Estar, and the Heartlands. And today, leadership of the Forge was being passed down from Gredig Ironstone to his son, Ulfgard Ironhammer. A much younger Katrin is sitting with her brothers, smiling hugely and drinking with the best of them. Nothing could possibly ruin today.  The great oak doors open with a loud bang, and silence falls across the hall. Ulfgard stands up, his face dark as his elder brother Ragnerk enters the room, his face red with anger and rage. A long, thin weapon is held in his hands. Ragnerk stalks down the center of the hall towards his brother, shouting as he goes. Katrin doesn't remember them, the ringing in her ears as time slowed down far louder than anything her uncle had to say. The gun raises, and Katrin is running before she can even think. A loud explosion rings through the hall, and all she remembers is pain and darkness.  She wraps a hand around the cup, the memory of that day and the memory of this one feeling eerily similar. She looks from his drink to his eyes, her own filled with regret, anger, bitterness, and sorrow. All of the things she'd felt the day she'd taken that bullet for her father. All of the things she felt today. After holding his gaze for a moment, she looks back down at her glass. She lifts it slightly from the table, tilting it in Akiran's direction, but she doesn't drink.   

For a moment disappointment shines through Akiran's grey eyes. He had hoped Katrin would understand, this group was a fragile being, too much conflict without joy would end with it broken and it's members scattered to the wind. A voice in his head adds "And being apart of it has been the only rest you've had without the tormenting dream." Holding Katrin's gaze for a moment before seeing Lilli eyeing the bottle. With a friendly pat to her back he says "It goes down easier with each glass. 'Specially after a hard fight and a long day"  pouring her another drink as he speaks. Raising his glass again he couldn't resist meeting Katrin's eyes again and shouting "Prost!!" as he drains his second glass.

Katrin forces a smile onto her face, internally flinching at Akiran's final exclamation. Prost.  It was a bitter reminder of what she had lost 34 years ago. What her family had lost. What Hol had lost. Her drink remains untouched.  

Lilliana watches the little display between Akiran and Katrin, grinning as another glass is poured for her. She raises her glass, looking at Katrin. "Prost! Come on, you guys. Quit pouting and drink for fucks sake."  She tips the glass back again, this time allowing the liquid a slower avenue down and she actually gets to appreciate the flavor which was exquisite. It still burned going down, leaving her wincing with a pleasant warmth in her belly. Still she huffs slightly after and takes the bottle to pour herself another drink. "I'm not letting this go to waste! I'm going to have some fun, even if the rest of you won't."  She rolls her eyes. "Life is too godsdamned short for this crap. Punch each other in the face if you need to, then shake hands and get the fuck over this."  She looks around the table at everyone's face, then holding Katrin's eyes drinks her third one. 

"Stop," Katrin's voice is quiet, and she meets Lilliana's gaze, her eyes going hard. "Just. Stop." She pushes her drink back. "Stop pretending like everything is okay. Because it's not." 

Lilli's own eyes go very hard as well, the sweet voice everyone is used to turns cold and harsh. "Then do something about it." She snaps back. "Because from what I can tell, I'm the only one trying to stop this from fracturing."  She pours another glass and gets, kicking her chair into place. "I'll be back when you lot figure out your own problems." She shoots it down and slams her glass onto the table, top down. She spins around and promptly loses her balance as the world suddenly begins to spin in such a rapid manner that she whirls and falls hard onto her backside. She clenches her jaw and pushes herself very unsteadily to her feet. "I'm fine."  But the extreme slur in her speech fails to cover the fact that she is very much not fine. She stumbles off towards the bar, bumping into several chairs along the path and even a patron or two.

After slamming the second drink, Akiran's head starts to swim and feels the all too familiar warm glow that the Dragonborn spends far to much time chasing. Though he is a bit surprised it came so quickly, he had never been a cheap date when it came to drink. But a rumbly growl from his stomach, jogs his memory. The sell sword was so excited to collect their pay from the Heartlands he declined breakfast, and nearly skipped down the road to his gold. He had hoped to grab a bite at the demon's tavern but it all went to shit before he got there. Shaking his head disappointed in himself for breaking his cardinal rule, never drink on an empty stomach. But before he can flag Petey over to order a platter of steaks, the tension boils over. His voice slurring he says "Ayyee ... no neeed ta get all hot.... some timess pretending's  is is is all you can do. Ya know? But we gots ta chose. Do we wannaaa stick together and bury this shit... or call it a day and go our own waysss." 

Thezra watches the erratic display from Lilliana with a mix of baffled confusion and genuine wonderment. Whether she was crazy or legitimately passionate, the girl had polished off a quad in as many seconds as she'd done a single sip of her own. Even when the young woman's back slammed into the floor after an unexpected outburst, Thezra can't help but be impressed.  "You know I've seen orc warriors nearly three times her size struggle to put down as much drink and stand again as she just did."  She shrugs, looking back to the rest,  "Is it not odd to anyone else how... fervently she has embraced us after a single day?"  With a sigh she polishes off the rest of her own first glass and looks back out at the table as Akiran slurs out his question. "I do not know how best to phrase things. That... is obvious by now, I'm sure." She rubs the back of her head and searches hard for how she can put this. "I lost sight of things down in those tunnels. I did not intend to attack you, Akiran. My goal wasn't to act like a leader. But that gold,"  she washes the words around for a second in her mouth,  "it is everything I have fought up until this point to stop. The sight of Duar'ken, it stirred up feelings I thought put to rest on the field that night outside the Fireblade. To know he was swayed by that group, to see the ruin he brought on people I cared for, and to then see that man throw his influence at us. At you all..." "I cannot let it happen again." The words are quieter, her gaze falling to the bottom of her empty glass. "I wouldn't be able to handle it. And for that I am sorry."

Lilliana's vision is swimming and spinning as rapidly as one of her conjured neutron stars as she drops hard into a seat at the bar, barely keeping herself upright. She lets out a very heavy sigh, noisily from her lips as she looks around for the bartender, Peter... Petra? Pete? Why couldn't she remember his name? She blinks her eyes, trying to make the spinning stop as she looks around, spotting the man. "Peeeeter! An'ther drink! Sssommore that stuff."  She jerks her head towards the general direction of her companions, succeeding in nearly throwing herself from the chair. 'Is this what it feels like?'   She drops her elbows onto the bar top and props her head up with her hand, closing her eyes against the awful spinning, groaning against the terrible feeling that was spreading into her rapidly dwindling consciousness. 

Katrin's knuckles are white as she clenches her fists under the table. How dare this.... child, give her, and even the larger group, lectures on morality, on reconciliation. She's been here less than a day. She doesn't know them. And then she even has the audacity to leave, to proclaim that she won't return until they "figure out their own problems"? Her stony eyes watch Lilliana stumble over to the bar. She's so angry that she doesn't hear the slurred words emanating from Akiran's mouth.  But then something unexpected happens. The tension in her body relaxes slightly, and she looks away from Lilliana to Thezra. It takes a moment for the full weight of Thezra's words to sink in. "I'll be honest. I didn't think you had it in you," she says bluntly, frowning in puzzlement at Thezra. 

Akiran claps and bellows "Ay that's the way Lilli!"   as she drunkenly makes her way to the bar, and settles in for a bar stool nap. Adding on to her order "Petey throw a steak in for me" hearing the slur in his voice "An a coffee too."  Turning back to Thezra and Katrin "dunno I like the kid." Nodding to Thezra & Katrin his tipsy state loosening his tongue "We all know how it is to be forced from our home. Having no where ta go or and only the road to keep ya company. Difference is, we were all grown warriors 'fore it happened and none of us had assassins after us. " Shrugging he says  "that's a hard life, anyone with a lick a sense would cling to any bit of safety they can find. She probably has her own secrets and it's smart to keep an eye out. But so far I like the kid."  Turning   to Thezra and taking in her statement  "I 'preciate that, and I apologize too. Not professional to hash our shit out in the field, in front of the guards. Bastard's don't like our type already, best not ta give em reasons." Pausing for a moment he hesitates and adds "Though I still don't get what ya mean. The Watcher didn't ask us ta do anything, no contract or nothing. If he wants to waste his gold, why not make da most of it?"

"Did he not?" She breathes in through her nostrils and out once more, staring at Akiran but seeing only the face of the blindfolded man before her. "He thanked us for our 'help' and threw money at us to make us happy and keep us from interfering. What is that but trying to get us on his side?" She sighs once more and refills her glass. "I am sorry for what I said. I insulted your honor without cause. But I just can't look at that gold and not see a road that leads to more Duar'kens, more pain." Downing the second shot in one swig, she lowers her gaze to meet the others once more, her eyes firm but calm; steadied. "If... if we take that money. How are we better than Duar? How do I know  there couldn't  be a time The Watcher comes to collect?" She squeezes the empty glass into the palm of her hand, grinding it down into the wood of the table would the uneasiness in her gut somehow vanish if she just did so hard enough.

"We're better because we aren't buying into his bullshit," Katrin says, her fists tightening in her lap again. "Do you honestly believe any one of us would sell ourselves to that guy?" 

Shaking his head "I still don't get it.  Duar'ken had his own goals, he didn't flip from being an upstanding orc into a demon crazed conqueror just over a bag of gold.  The gold itself isn't gonna make us switch sides. And if the Watcher expects us to do something or stop interfering just 'cause he threw a bag of gold at us he's a fool." adding "Might as well be happy the watcher wasted the gold on us, and make the most of it."

"I don't know, Katrin."  The words come out less a condemnation of the others than of herself.  "I don't. You have... none of you have done anything to show you would, but neither had Duar'ken for the many years he served Kerak and the tribe loyally."  She winces.  "Well, seemingly loyally. I still don't know what convinced him to turn, what led to this." "Trust is a challenge. It isn't something I can easily do. Until this point it hasn't mattered much to me as I knew that distrust went both ways and I had only come this far off of Kerak's request anyway. Traveling together was both a matter of convenience and opportunity." She knew this wasn't likely to engender any trust either, but she rarely saw need to sugarcoat things or lie, so she continued. "That doesn't mean I haven't liked traveling with you all. It has been... pretty interesting to see more of the world, experience human society, fight alongside capable warriors. It has been nice to, well, not be alone." Thezra takes another deep breath, but continues before the memories have a chance to take hold in her mind once more. "I don't know that I can truly trust anyone. Not yet. So if you want me to leave for that reason, I can accept that. What I do know is this: I intend to hunt that man down one way or another. Him and the rest of these 'Watchers'. I intend to get answers from him -- what did he do to twist Duar'ken as he did, for starters. And then, I intend to plant his head on the end of my blade. I have no doubt I stand little chance alone, but that plan changes little regardless of who I stand with." Her eyes switch from Katrin's to Akiran's, passing over the sleeping Thrandimir and to the ever-worryingly sorrowful eyes of Ascian, and she gives the slightest of smiles. "I would  rather not stand alone, though."

There's a brief moment where Ascian thinks he's lost time again; where cups are lifted and a toast declared and then another that follows where Lilliana is on the floor and slurring and snapping. He blinks, but the scene doesn't shift, and it becomes quickly clear that things aren't disappearing they're just escalating quickly, even faster than they had in the tunnel. Fight or flight rises swiftly, that surge of panic that is becoming all too familiar, and the nastier things get the faster he reaches down toward Ember to leave as he'd promised Katrin he would. But just as quickly as there had been rage there comes contrition. The apologies still him, a surprise but a welcome one; he turns back toward the table with a wariness that brings his eyes from one party member to the next, with a final rest on Thezra. "I need answers too.   About the city. About what he said about me. I'll go."  He watches her as if braced for a hit, his shoulders pinched together in preparation. The half-orc had already admitted she didn't trust anyone, and he suspects him least of all.  "If I can."

Akiran takes a deep breath and blows a torrent of cold air into his newly arrived coffee. Taking a hearty sip of the cooled drink, he nods and says "I'm in. Bastard like that isn't likely to forget about us. Even if he says we did him a favor." Nodding at Thezra  " 's pecially  after that cut you gave him. Better to find him 'fore he finds us."  Shrugging he adds  "And who needs trust. Do your shit, I'll do mine and we'll get it done." Lightly tossing the bag of gold in the middle of the table "Though unless ya can give me a better reason, I'm taking my cut."

The sudden jangle of coins in their midst makes Sable jerk upright with a start. "Ilepkiric!" The wizard declares enthusiastically, lifting his empty glass. His eyes fall on the bag before them. "So, Thezra, ready to accept that it's possible to take somebody's money without giving them a thing in return?" Sable asks with a wink.

Thezra sizes Akiran up. No matter what he or anyone said she couldn't shake the distrust of the gold; of the Watcher. She looks to Ascian as well and sighs.  "Unless you can give me a better reason, I will remain wary. But fine. That will work. For now."  Almost immediately the old wizard wakes up and needles her some more, and it is all she can do to catch herself before her eyes roll. Cocking her head towards him, she tips a finger towards his glass.  "Only if you're ready to accept  that  being taken for your own safety, elder. Careful now,"  she adds, teasingly,  "wink any harder and you may doze off again before you even get your coveted cut."

Katrin stifles her own eye roll, pressing her lips in a thin line to keep from smiling. Elder. Thrandimir's original identity was younger than she was, perhaps even close to Thezra's. But that was not her secret to share. But she greatly enjoyed the irony of the statement nonetheless.  "Seems we're in agreement. As much as we can be in the current....circumstances. So, in the spirit of friendship, we have some mushrooms that need gathering in the morning." She didn't give any more information than that, Ascian might still want to keep the darker parts to himself for now.

Visible confusion crosses Akiran's snout as he divies up the sack of gold. Giving everyone an even share but leaving Thezra's share in the bag on the table. Looking at Katrin "i f you're looking for some magic mushrooms I gotta buddy near the marketplace. Little gnome, bit of a weird guy, but his shrooms I'll get you there." Taking another sip of his coffee he pauses and holds up a claw "ya know what I like that idea! What better way to toss the bad blood than a good trip." Chuckling he turns to Sable his voice still a little slurred " Me and the boys in the Legion did em once. Buddy and I thought we saw a zombie , stalking the camp that night.  He pumped it full arrows and i blew so hard you'd've thought it was a blizzard. Woke up the next morning and found a scarecrow frozen solid, looking like a porcupine with how many arrows were stuck in it. Captain was beside himself but me and the boys still share a laugh about it to this day." Shaking his head as he fills up another glass of mead "good times... good times"

Sable shrugs and pushes his glass across the table towards Thezra. After pocketing his share of the gold, the wizard yawns and wordlessly fishes his herbalist's kit out of his back. Unrolling it on the table, he extracts a blend of dried leaves to fill his pipe with, before taking a small glass vial of powdered mushroom to add to the mix. "Good times," he agrees with a sly smirk.

Katrin smiles, amused by Akiran's assumption. "Not magic in that way my friend. But they might be used for magic."

Akiran laughs and pats the wizard on the back "That's the way!" Looking over to Katrin slightly deflating as he turns " Ya need the whole crew for this, are you expecting trouble?  What type of magic are we dealing with? " Learning his lesson and sipping the mead   "Only thing I've got going tomorrow is to meet with the General and collect our due" Spreading his arms he adds "Any of you are welcome to join me of course."

"I intended to pay a visit to the guild's forge,"  Thezra chimes in,  "but I might join you on that Akiran. This General could know something about our secretive  friends ."  "And I'm curious too,"  she says, focusing in on Katrin with an inquisitive look.  "What kind of mushrooms do you need, and for what purpose?" 

"They're for me," Ascian says reluctantly. "I told a cleric I would. She's doing a ritual. To find out what's wrong with me." He stares at the grainwork of the table rather than any one of them. "She said they're for healing potions."

The kid's admission catches Thezra off guard but not entirel by surprise. She found herself drawn once more to his unmoving chest; those emotionless eyes. She knew something was  off  about him, and frm what he and the others had spoken of in her presence, it was as if he was practically dead already. Or, like the wolf that firbolg had helped him reclaim from her own people,  un dead.  "Sure. Though I hadn't realized there was something to  heal, to be honest,"  she shifts forward in her seat and reaches a hand out to lay flat on the wood of the table,  "nor something wrong with you. Just that you were something... different."  She studies the boy intently and finds herself drawn back to his questions earlier that day, to both her and the Watcher. To the man's words down in the tunnels.  You have already been touched.  In the moment she hadn't had time to process it much, given she was trying to process her own banishment and reappearance. But now it seemed quite strange. Given her own mistrust of the group already, it would be easy to latch onto negative ideas about it, but it was clear the boy was quite desperate and unknowing in his question and response to the answer he got. But with the Watcher's proven connection to the Abyss -- to Duar'ken -- perhaps there was a greater connection than immediately obvious. Still, she couldn't help but feel some pity watching him sink further into his seat. "I mentioned yesterday I know a bit when it comes to spirits and undeath,"  she recalls.  "I don't know if it'd aid you here, Ascian, but I can offer what knowledge I have."

Katrin tenses as Thezra examines Ascian. She was still unsure of the woman's motivations, especially given recent events. She relaxes only a little at the end of her offer and assessment. "Whatever is going on, Ascian is not undead." She pauses slightly, forcing herself to relax a bit more. "But maybe it holds some clues that could lead us in the right direction."

Sable nods in agreement with Katrin, his jaw set in solemn determination. "That much we established and whatever Ascian needs to see this through, we are behind him." Akiran laughs and pats the wizard on the back "That's the way!" Looking over to Katrin slightly deflating as he turns " Ya need the whole crew for this, are you expecting trouble?  What type of magic are we dealing with? " Learning his lesson and sipping the mead   "Only thing I've got going tomorrow is to meet with the General and collect our due" Spreading his arms he adds "Any of you are welcome to join me of course." The wizard puffs on his pipe a few times, before offering Akiran a toke. "Perhaps we should all go. It's best that the general has seen all of our faces in case of any future trouble. Speaking of which, Katrin, how much gold is left in the bag of holding? There are some spells that we acquired from our fallen enemies that could help us in future, if recorded in my spellbook. The necessary components and inks are sometimes costly."

"You're sure? Hmm..."  Thezra drums her fingers on the hard table as she thinks further. The boy certainly seemed to tick all the boxes for being at least  mostly  dead, but she had to admit to herself her knowledge was based only on what she'd read and what Rata had explained to her. She'd never really seen undead in person, as far as she was aware.   "He may not be undead but he's not quite alive either, is he? Much like that wolf, he walks a line between the two, and it is one that the Watcher encourages you to continue down."  She looks once more to Ascian, then reaches to pour herself a bit more drink.  "That's even more reason to do something about it."

"I'm sure," Katrin says firmly to Thezra. She turns to Sable. "We do have quite a bit of coin from our previous adventures that we can share out amongst ourselves."

Ascian stays quiet, listening intently even as he turns toward Ember and palms over the wolf’s ears. He wishes he could feel as adamant as Katrin and the wizard sounded; that he believed there was no way their spells might have failed. The truth of the matter was the longer he went without sleeping, the harder it was becoming to trust that there was a reason beyond death his lungs didn’t move. It floods him with dull surprise to hear Thezra say she didn’t realize something was wrong, when he’s felt since before he met her he was walking half-underwater. He looks over just in time to accidentally catch her eye as she mentions the Watcher, and drops it immediately. He can still taste Daerheim and all its mayhem on his tongue.  “I’m trying,” he says uncomfortably, rolling a bony shoulder to his ear and back. “Marianne sent me to this cleric. Anastasia. She doesn’t know either. But the ritual might.” His hand drifts down Ember’s neck to his chest, as still and unmoving as Ascian’s own, as he looks to the wizard. “The general doesn’t need to see my face.” Reluctantly, he glances back to the half-orc. “If you do know anything. About death. Undeath. Shadowfell. Any of it. I want to know.”