Part 3: A reckoning rides from the west

Thezra listened to Katrin's plea with an increasing amount of disbelief. The woman had never once shown much emotion that wasn't at least partially tinged with anger, and now, at the moment the two she trusted most seemingly betrayed that trust, she decided to stick her head in the dirt and try to quickly move past it. But it's what Marianne says that provokes the biggest gut punch.  "Is the king a complete idiot,"  she gawks in a flat tone. The previous night, for all the chaos at its end, had actually been surprisingly tolerable. Back when they were first invited, the prospect of meeting with the human lord had twisted her stomach. While she'd felt no great animosity towards him, the history of their peoples, among other personal reasons, gave her little cause to want to break bread with the man. Yet he'd been nothing if not a gracious-if-suspiciously-coy host — a quality that now made much more sense.  "So he never cared for us at all. For what he toasted to us for. The Watchers. The famine. All of it irrelevant save for, as is increasingly always the case it seems, the kid. And he risked the safety of not only his own people but all others of this land. To sate his curiosity." "New idea Katrin, if you're deadset on doing something about all this — start with removing that man's head. It is ill-fit to lead."

"Treasonous talk," Marianne says. "But you wouldn't be alone in that sentiment. Discontent with the king's rule and war is escalating throughout the Heartlands. Many favor his brother. They see him as more level-headed. He has been good leader while the king has been away at war."

"Can't be treason," she scoffs, "he's not my king."

So was it you or Vecna who attacked Akiran then. The words are barbed and deadly as they fly from between Thezra's teeth, as accurate to hit somewhere vulnerable if they'd been from his bow. It's a question he hadn't thought about, even now, as the same urge slowly fades. Then and now it had been fueled by fear and anger, guilt and shame.  Was it him? Was it Faerus? Was it Vecna?   Which of the three was worse? He doesn't have an answer and the question chases itself in loops around his head, scouring his mind for one. There's more verbal arrows fired in the meanwhile, a volley that comes one after the other, hitting the armor of frail self-preservation that cocoons him more fragilely than frost. The others will only be angrier later if they find out that you held something back. In the end, he threw our help out. Katrin spent a night in da dungeon due to their shit. It's that fear and anger, guilt and shame, all flung back at him from half a dozen different mouths. His fingers fold, slicing into themselves as his knuckles drag slowly and forcefully downward, over the protrusion of bony hip and down the sides of his legs as if trying to scrub himself clean of a sin in his veins. As is increasingly always the case it seems, the kid. He invited all of you...and I quote....to see what would happen. No, no, no – this was wrong, all wrong. It's spiraling now as it had spiraled in the church not long ago, with Casimir again at the heart of it; little more than a concept then and a reality now. They couldn't take him but he couldn't lose them; felt each held fast in his palms covered by pinched, shaking fingers as he looks at the others and between them and past them all at once. I guess this is where we part ways. "Stop."  It's as shaky as the rest of him, ground out from beneath teeth clenched so tightly it's a marvel he can speak at all.  "This is – it's all – just  stop. "  His arms still, clenched at his sides, and he forces his vision to refocus so the party is again registering in front of him.  "I didn't know what would happen with the mushrooms. I didn't know about the dragon. I didn't know about the king. I didn't know about the crystal. But I do know it felt wrong. And that came from me. Not him."  He'd swallow if he had reason to, but instead it's just syllable after syllable raking his throat dry.  "I brought this back with me the other night. From Shadowfell. It's the same color as things we've seen before."  His fingers fumble uncharacteristically at a pouch on his belt, bringing forth the green orb Faerus had gifted him what felt like years ago before forcing himself to look back to the others with it safe in his palm. "The Watchers. The cultists. The bishop. You," He cuts to Marianne and Na'arik. "Even the king. Everyone has known about this. But no one was talking. I tried to find answers. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to know ."

The anger and frustration that had been diminishing inside her flares again as Marianne speaks. As Thezra looks at her with open incredulity and suspicion. Well, what the fuck do you want me to do!?  She wants to yell, shout, scream. Again. And I thought I was past this.  STOP. It startles her from her own train of thought, from the realization that the others have even less reason to trust her because she chose not to rip Ascian and Thrandimir a new one after their actions the previous night. Her eyes are drawn to the green orb in the boy's hand. Green. The color of necromancy. And...Vecna gave it to him? No, Faerus. But they're the same person.... And she believed him. From the start, all he had wanted was answers. Something definitive to hold onto. She had been unable to give him that, not because she didn't want to help, but because she had lacked the knowledge and skill to know how. She looks over at Thezra again. How am I supposed to fix this........how can I? Not alone, that's for sure....

Thrandimir nods slowly, releasing a breath that he hadn't realised that he'd been holding as Ash produces the crystal. "It's not your fault, Ascian," the wizard assures his friend. "None of it. You only ever did your best with what you were given." His gaze shifts from the crystal to Marianne. "I've been waiting to ask you about this. How could this have come here? What does it mean?"

Marianne looks at the crystal, seemingly baffled by its existence. "I...I do not know," she says. She stares at the green orb for a few more long seconds before asking, "Ascian, how are you getting to the Shadowfell?"

"I already said."  He can hear the discomfort in his own voice as his fingers close more tightly around the edges of the orb, arm lowering.  "Before I sleep. I can't go often."

Knowing that he carries Ash's remaining supply of potions, Thrandimir seeks eye contact with Ascian, holding it where he can. I won't betray your secrets against your will... but if anybody can help, then it's Marianne.

And if they try and take it , Ascian replies dully, forcing himself to glance to the wizard, though it doesn’t last. I can’t lose him. I can’t.

Then you don't have any more right now. That's the truth, isn't it? The wizard's eyes glint conspiratorially.

Ascian hesitates, looking one last time to Thrandimir.  Just don't let her take it. His gaze sweeps the straw littering the ground again before rising back up to Marianne, adding reluctantly,  "It helps to take something. I don't know what's in it, just that it's rare. It puts me to sleep for awhile. And right before it does...I'm there."

Katrin had been looking between Ash and Thrandimir for the past few minutes or so, and her eyes end on Ash. So that means....a drug of some kind. The reluctance in his voice, and the way his eyes were trailing around the room.... He didn't want me to know....oh Ash.  She thinks she might start crying, she felt stretched so thin. Everything was coming to a head, and there didn't seem to be a thing she could do about it. And Ash..... Drugs to help with sleep weren't uncommon. She just wishes he could've trusted her enough to tell her. Trusted that she wouldn't judge him for that. And it was helping him see his brother. Katrin knew what that longing felt like. She hadn't seen her brothers and sister in what felt like an eternity. And it hurt.  She almost opens her mouth to speak, but she glances at the other three. At Thezra. Voicing support now is only going to cement favoritism in her mind. God's above, how did it get to this point?

Thezra watched Ascian carefully throughout as he talked. As he stared at the ground. As he fumbled to produce the object. As he glances at Thrandimir, who stares back.  "So you take some herbs or drugs to do it?" Her fingers tap across her chin. That much made sense. She thinks to the rituals her aunt would often perform to commune with the spirits. Often, they had involved inhaling or consuming things Thezra herself had never fully understood, but — so it was explained to her — were to help bridge the divide between the world of the spirits and their own. At least, that was how Rata had put it, more or less. Yet this was different. The Shadowfell was different. "I've never seen or heard of anyone actually being transported to another place." "How did you find that, there — in the Shadowfell?"  Frowning, she points to the orb, her eyes transfixed on the sickish green glow that emanates from within. "Did he  give it to you somehow, Ascian? It can't be a coincidence you get something like that, with the connection you two apparently have."

His attention lifts to Thezra, though it can’t  stay for long. There’s an accusation there that he both flinches from and deserves, and he fights the urge to hide the orb back from whence it had come. “Yes,” he says quietly. “He gave…he showed me how to do magic with it. At least a little.”

Katrin centers all of her focus on Gesrik's man bound in the corner. Knowing that she would soon have answers to that particular question was helping keep her present. Helping to keep her from losing her mind. It was keeping the roiling frustration at bay. For now. She leans back against the post she was next to, closing her eyes, taking deep breaths to slow her beating heart, to cool the heated flames in her chest. Her anger was like a wildfire. If she wasn't careful, she would lose control. If only Rose were here. If I could just talk to her. See her. She would know what to say. She always knows what to say.  Katrin's hands are balled into fists at her side, anger suddenly giving way to the hurt and pain of being so far away from everyone she loved. Rose. Her sister, her brothers. Her mother. Father. I could use your help right about now. But he wasn't here. Rose wasn't here. It was just her. She listens to the questioning with her eyes closed, terrified that if she spoke it would destroy what little credibility she had left with Thezra and Akiran. But was her silence better, or only making things worse? She had to say something. But she didn't know what she was supposed to say.  "What sort of magic did he show you?" It was better than nothing. She hoped.

Marianne furrows her brow, the lines creasing her forehead making her seem older, beyond her evident agelessness. "Do you have any of this substance with you?"

It's Katrin of all of them he can't make himself look at, focusing on stowing the orb back where he'd gotten it instead as he says uncomfortably, "Nothing much. I'm not good at it yet. Some illusions. Like Thrandimir's." Marianne had seen it already, and he thinks she's about to say as much when she instead asks the question he'd feared all along. "No. Not anymore."

Ascian's admittance of not only contact with Vecna, but of being shown magic by him causes Thezra's stomach to sink. Her gaze lingers on him but a moment as she squeezes her eyes shut, wishing he'd given any other answer. Since they'd met, she'd tried so hard to keep friendly and supportive of the kid; his deathly complexion and their clearly shared... familiarity  with distrusting others resonated for that much. And she knew he had a limited grasp of, well, reality; of his actions or the world around him. But with every answer he seemed to place himself further and further with this being they all feared.  "Wait—"  As the boy starts to stow the orb back into his things, Thezra takes a short but quick step forward, hand slightly outstretched as she shoots a look over to Marianne, "That thing was given to him by  this monster you're all worried about. He can't just keep it — the dukhal  is training him with it! He needs to be..." she clenches her fists, sucking air in through her teeth, and turns to the boy. Staring at him with eyes yearning to be softer than the fierce resolve needed for this, she lets out a long breath.  "Ascian. You need to cut him off." 

Thrandimir raises an open hand in Thezra's direction. "Power is power. Learning some minor illusions is not inherently evil and Ascian is not Faerus or Vecna. Certainly, caution is warranted, but do not dismiss this connection so quickly. You do our friend a disservice by assuming that he is so weak-willed. Now that nobody is keeping anything from Ascian, he is equipped to face the challenges ahead. As long as Faerus believes that he is control, there is the potential to learn more of his plans and thwart them. The most relevant risk is whether or not he can also scry on us through the crystal." Here the wizard once more looks to Marianne to provide her expert opinion on this matter. "Gut reactions will get us nowhere. We must act tactically. Now, Ascian," Thrandimir continues, returning his attention to the boy, "do you perhaps still have an older, empty vial that might still contain some residue for Marianne to examine?"

Lilliana watches the entire scene playing between the group carefully and quietly. She was very much waiting for Katrin to jump to Ascian's defense... again, in spite of the fact that the boy had made some very questionable choices in recent days; she was glad to see she did not. This group had issues with trust; one side screaming about how the other should trust them impeccably while also stating that they  don't trust them enough with details of what they were doing. The utter hypocrisy made Lilliana want to laugh and turn on her heels and depart, but no... she needed them, the protection they offered her and... she turns to look at Akiran. 'He knows too much to simply walk away from, but it's more than that. I enjoy his company. No, I won't walk away from it again.'  She looks at Thezra and then the others. Once again she fights the urge to say something and literally bites down on her tongue to elicit a stab of pain to distract her from the thoughts. Best to let this play out and see what happens. 

Again Thezra steps forward, and again Ascian steps back. You need to cut him off.  The chill that wracks through him is aggressive enough to shake his spine.  "He's with Casimir," he responds incredulously, looking at Thezra as if what she had said was unthinkable. "They're both in Shadowfell. They both know when I'm there." Desperate to prove there was another angle to this, he pulls out the empty vial he'd used just last night, offering it reluctantly to Marianne as Thrandimir had requested. "I don't know if there's anything in there. He said it's hard to make. The person I got it from."

Akiran's scales ruffle in confusion, before settling back into a tight cold expression. Shaking his head  "So let me get this straight, ya brother died 'fore ya were born. Ya can only see Casmir in the Shadowlands, and every time ya seem em Vecna's there." Ticking off his talons as he speaks.  Looking to Thrand and then Marianne "ya know what it is. Vecna's playin em like a 2 copper drum. Next time he dont step da right way, Vecma 'ill say ya can't see em. Until he falls back in line." Sighing and meeting the wizard's eyes again " Thrand dis is a racket I could see us runnin, on da right mark." Holding his hands on his belt "we smarter then this or what?"

"After. He died after. I stopped breathing. Then he did." The condescension creeping into Akiran's tone chafes against fragile skin born raw, and though he knows he's arguing the wrong thing, it doesn't stop the words from coming. "He doesn't stay. He leaves. It's just us mostly. Me and Casimir." Ascian frowns as the conversation again turns away and above him, as if he's as unintelligible as Ember. The same tide of frustration rises as it had not long ago and he forces himself to swallow past it, desperate not to prove Thezra right. "You're wrong. He didn't ask me for anything. And he doesn't talk about Casimir. I asked for his help. And he gave it. He gave me answers."

Ash's desperate rationalizations continued to prick against her patience one by one, each equal parts well-meaning and misguided. It didn't help that Thrandimir seemed deadset to enable any poor choices if it means benefitting himsel at the kid's expense. She shakes her head, the toll of the conversation starting to show on her face in the darkening circles under her eyes. "The kid is suffering. He's literally turning to a monster for help and you'd send him back into its den?" Not waiting for the pithy response, she instead she looks to Ascian again. This whole thing was getting mired further and further into the muck, and she could feel with each word spoken the lot of them were sinking deeper. This is maddening. How can I get him to trust me when I can't even trust anyone myself? "Ash. He may not have asked you for anything yet but what has  he done? He gave you that orb to bring back, with his power in it. He gave you answers freely, when no one else has. Why do you think he would do that."  Her eyes are practically pleading, searching for some way to get through, but it's not Ash's face she sees across from her. It's another. A more familiar one, also led astray. "When he taught you these magics, what did he promise you? Was it power, like the Watchers did to Duar'ken? Or was it something else."

Katrin stares up at the barn ceiling, willing her hands to relax, her mind to slow. The one thing that keeps her from rushing outside is, surprisingly, Thezra. The woman's effort to try and reach out, to understand....it was the first time that Katrin felt that maybe all was not lost. Now the real question is, How do I not Fuck this up anymore.... And yet, despite all that, Katrin is finding it difficult to keep the tension, distress, and anger from her eyes.

Thrandimir massages his brow with thumb and forefinger. "Akiran, can we take a walk? Just take some air with me for a second, alright? Maybe everybody needs a break? This has been a lot of cards on the table for one morning. Five minutes to cool off and then everybody back to make a plan together?" The wizard's eyes settle on Thezra as he says the word 'together'.

Marianne takes the vial, listening as everyone speaks. At Thrandimir' suggestion, she nods. "I need time to identify this. Don't go far," she says.

An unbidden and unwelcome memory crosses Katrin's mind. "Once you're inside the palace gates, you will leave the scarf in a meeting area of some sort. The King's office, or study, or something like that. Concealed in some way." And then, "Nobody need know but you and me." Except she had told both Thrandimir and Ash about her plan. And that plan had already been in motion before the crystal had shattered. Before they'd found it. Her own choices were made long before Ash and Thrandimir made theirs. Before Thrandimir has even finished speaking, Katrin walks out of the barn, and around the back to a secluded area. The place had started to feel oppressive, and she couldn't breathe. Maybe Thrandimir was right. Maybe a moment away was what she needed. What they all needed. Except that they'd done this before, and little good had come from it. Why should this time be any different. Her hands tighten again, and heat builds in her chest. Anger. At the King, at Thrandimir, at Ash. Anger at Thezra, Akiran, and Lilli. But most of all, anger at herself. One hand grips the head of her axe tightly, the other shaking at her side as she paces. At first she doesn't notice the pain, but a faint hissing, a faint burning grabs her attention. She looks down to see the metal blade glowing white-hot. With a cry, she jerks her hand away from the blade, sending the weapon flying onto the grass away from her, as she herself falls to the ground, catching herself with her injured hand.

Taking a deep breath Akiran turns away from Ash and meets Thrands gaze. "Aye I'll take ah walk." Looking back towards Crossroads his tone turning wistful  "always loved roamin' da streets ah this city" leading unsaid that he feared he was exiled from yet another place he considered his home. 

"It sure beats Karnopolis, that's for sure," Thrandimir admits. "Mostly because there isn't an eavesdropper on every corner waiting to sell you out." The wizard glances back at the barn to be sure that they're far enough to avoid being overheard. "Look, you're not wrong, okay? You're just going about this too directly. You say that you could see us running a racket like that, then treat Ash like you would a mark . You're coming in way too hot at the moment. Then you spook the mark, they're in the wind and you're out of pocket. He barely trusts me right now and he took a massive leap of faith for his standards when he listened to me and came forward about the crystal and the drugs. He's the best weapon that we have against Vecna, but if you scare him off, then that's all for nothing."

Ascian stares at Thezra, the protests rising immediate and half-hearted to his lips where they fade to nothing. No. She was wrong. They were all wrong. It might be true here, in this world, that no one helped another outside of their own personal motivation - but did that have to make it true of another? Of Shadowfell? “He promised me answers,” he tells Thezra quietly as the others begin to filter past. “Not for mushrooms. Or scrolls. To help.”   He watches backs retreat, glancing once to Marianne with the vial before down to Ember. They didn’t understand, as he knew they wouldn’t. What else more could he possibly say?  “I need to….” He trails off, the sentence fading to nothing before he too filters through the door, a loyal silver shadow disappearing into the surrounding streets at his side.

Let me talk to Akiran alone for a bit , Thrandimir thinks at Ash as he goes. Maybe it will help. I won't go far. Call if you need me.

Thezra simply stands in stunned silence as the group breaks off, watching Thrandimir pull Akiran away and Ash slink off. With them, she could understand at least where each seemed to stand. Ash was hopelessly lost in a world of lies others had told him. Thrandimir was part of that web, and was no doubt feeding more bullshit to Akiran, but Akiran was the only other one here showing an ounce of rationality. Katrin, meanwhile, was a frustrating enigma. They had rarely agreed, despite sharing similar goals most of the time seemingly. Thezra never held any ill-will towards the woman, but she knew Katrin disliked her anyway. Still, if there was one thing she thought she understood here, it was her. Until now. ”What are you doing,”  she stands a short ways behind her, arms crossed as Katrin kneels holding her hand. “Did that man back there hurt you more than you let on?”  

Katrin looks up from the ground, her blonde hair falling into her face, her burnt hand clutched to her chest, her face contorted in a hiss of pain. "I'm fine," she says, but it's obviously a lie. "That bastard got it worse than I did." It was true, she'd given it back to him ten-fold, but the damage that he'd done to her was still evident.  "What do you want?" 

“To know what you’re doing. Here. With all of this.”  Thezra‘s frown is evident, but she extends a hand down to the warrior. “That speech about working together ー I don’t buy it. I may not know you longer than a few weeks but I think I know you well enough to know you’re kru’taking  angry beneath that cold glare. So why are you hiding it.”

Katrin stares at the outstretched hand a beat, before reaching up with her uninjured hand to take Thezra's and allows the woman to pull her up. Once on her feet, she looks over at where her ax is still glowing white-hot on the ground. After another beat, the glow fades as she releases the spell she'd unknowingly cast in her anger. Another beat, and she's staring at Thezra.  "If you should feel betrayed by anyone, it shouldn't be Ash. Hells, it shouldn't even be Thrandimir." She clenches her hands, wincing as her burned flesh screams at her, pacing away from Thezra. She stops short, turning to look at her again. "It should be me."

"Why."  Thezra watches Katrin wince and walk away, and looks from the faintly glowing axe to her clenched hands. "I may already, but I assume its for a different reason than the one you're about to tell me."

" I'm not tryin to play em"   Looking back to Thrand, the Dragonborn shakes his snout and in a kind yet stern tone says " Da Pale One ain't a mark or a weapon, he's a threat. An' he's ya blind spot to boot. Ya think ya can honey up some words and compete with Vecna magicking up his family?"  Slowly shaking his snout as he meets Thrand's eyes "Ya fucking can't compete."  Akiran's silvery eyes grow sad and weary, and the brand on his chest stings  "Believe me, people will do ah hell of a lot for a chance ta not be alone. Even if they're only being fed a bundle a shit."  Akiran reaches for his flask, his eyes falling finding it still dry from the night before. "He's believin' what he wants, hell what he needs ta believe. & ya can't talk some one outta that. Better ta handle em now, before Vecna tells him ta cut our throats in our sleep."

"Okay," Thrandimir acknowledges, playing along, "let's say that he's a threat. Do you want that threat off on its own with no oversight? That's where this is headed right now. Ascian's back is against a wall and if he gets pushed much harder he'll be gone and we'll have no intelligence and no control."

"Na I want em in chains."  Crossing his arms   " Leave em with Marianne if she's willing or turn him over ta da Heartlands if not. He doesn't need ta sleep, he doesn't need ta eat, and da fucking cherry on top is that we do! Do ya honestly think ya can watch em enough ta make sure he and Vecna aren't da ones playing you?"

Vesh said: "Why."  Thezra watches Katrin wince and walk away, and looks from the faintly glowing axe to her clenched hands. "I may already, but I assume its for a different reason than the one you're about to tell me." "Because before this crystal was even a thought to any of us, I already had a plan." Katrin slowly unclenches her injured hand, looking at the shiny, tight, burned skin. "And it would've worked too. But then Ash took the damn scarf with him, and Thrandimir followed right behind." If I hadn't told them, if I hadn't brought them into my confidence....I could've pulled this off. Katrin does something unexpected next. She laughs. It's startling, jarring, and mirthless.  "If I hadn't given him the scarf, it would've succeeded. I would've hidden it somewhere in the King's study, and at least something would have gone right last night."

“What?”  Thezra tilts her head, “What scarf? What does this have to do with Vecna?”

"Nothing," Katrin frowns at Thezra. "Before last night's dinner, I went to a tailor. She and I have...similar views on the monarchy. And she made me a scarf that I was to put somewhere in the King's mansion, a...meeting place. A study, if you will. All I was supposed to do was leave it in a hidden place. I don't know for what purpose exactly, I didn't ask. I didn't want to know, and I didn't need to know."  Katrin can feel her heart thudding heavily in her chest as she speaks. She starts pacing again, anything better than just standing there and staring back at Thezra.  "I didn't tell Akiran because he would've been furious. I didn't tell Lilli and I didn't tell you for a similar reason. Because I knew you'd try and stop me," she takes a shuddering breath as the tension builds in her chest. "The only reason I told Thrandimir and Ash is because I trusted them to keep their mouths shut. Because I knew this sort of thing doesn't bother them."  She sets her jaw. "You want to know why I'm angry? Because we had a plan. It was a good plan. Nothing was going to go wrong. But then that damn crystal got in the way. Vecna got in the way. So yeah, I'm pissed. At Ash, at Thrandimir, at Vecna. But shouting at them isn't going to fix anything." She pauses, then looks quizzically at Thezra. "Is that why you don't trust me? Because I kept my temper in there?"

The whole story takes a moment for Thezra to process, the words stringing together in a strange mix that slashes across the tension they’d already been dealing with and leaves her lost in limbo. For a moment she just stares at the woman before her, her brow slowly furrowing as her form seems to recoil, pulling at her legs to back away a couple of feet. “You all had planned to… without telling us?”  Saying it out loud is the key; the thing that makes it sink in. She can almost feel her stomach churn, and she clenches her eyes shut a moment to withstand the fire within. “What the fuck,” she finally throws out.  “Where do I evenー”  she groans, a loud guttural wail, and grabs her head to smother in her hands, but snaps her head back up to glare through fallen hair and finger snares. “Do I look like a kru’taking monarchist  to you? “I’d have tried to stop yー’ what do I care about a human lord? And I like Akiran now but the man would take any job for coin, you don’t think he’d have been interested in that?”  She’s seething now, pacing about the space sucking in air between sentences, and she can feel the fury rise, until it seems like even her eyes her burning in anger, a stinging wetness pooling at their corners. ”But that’s not even…” ”Do I distrust you because you held your tongue? No. I can’t fucking understand you. You tell me in one breath not to feel alone and in another plot treason with your back to me. You lash fire at me for going against the group but would let Ascian and Thrand gut you before you raised your voice to them. You trust them implictly despite only knowing them a few days more than Akiran or I. Youー”  Her words finally catch in her throat as the anger starts to give way to something else, something heavier, that crushes across her body until she can only collapse to the ground, sinking to her knees and sliding back until she’s leaning against the wall, staring past Katrin now. Past the others, past the barn and the crossroads and Vecna and Shadowfell. Past the lies and betrayals and anger and sorrow. Past it all.  And for the first time in as long as she can remember, she feels tears slide down her face.

Tegan J. said: "Na I want em in chains."  Crossing his arms   " Leave em with Marianne if she's willing or turn him over ta da Heartlands if not. He doesn't need ta sleep, he doesn't need ta eat, and da fucking cherry on top is that we do! Do ya honestly think ya can watch em enough ta make sure he and Vecna aren't da ones playing you?" Thrandimir shakes his head sadly. "I'd hoped to find common ground with you, but Ascian is my friend , Akiran. I want to find a way to help him, not imprison him."

Katrin feels like she's run into a stone wall as she watches Thezra slowly sink to the ground and start....crying? It was a jarring sight. Thezra had always seemed impenetrable. Unstoppable. Stubborn to a fault. But...this? Katrin didn't know what to do. What to say. Rose would know what to say... "I'm..." she starts, the wind utterly knocked from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't..." Katrin feels something trickle down her face, and she brushes her cheek with her fingers to find..... I'm crying too? What the fuck--!  Rather than try to explain, to justify, to say things that may end up being even more meaningless, Katrin just lets gravity bring her onto her knees across from Thezra. "I'm sorry," she whispers, utterly lost for words. 

Lilliana watches awkwardly as the rest of the group departs, leaving her standing there alone... feeling once again very much like the outsider here. Which was true, they had only known her for a scant few days, but for her... the last few days had solidified her as part of this in at least her mind. For these people she'd faced one of her greatest fears in the sewers beneath the city, been branded by a dragon for the gods only knew what purpose, and had her leg literally ripped from her body. If this wasn't enough to show them she wanted to belong, she really did not know what more she could give for their respect. She looked over to Na'arik nearby and walked over to the man, holding back the wince from the rawness of her leg rubbing against the prosthetic. "Na'arik, I wonder if I could ask you something?"

Na'arik looks up from where his hand grasps the collar of Katrin's would-be assassin. He pushes the man over and gets to his feet, walking a few feet away. "Sure," he says. "Something wrong?" Across the room, Marianne examines the empty vial, her eyes glowing violet.