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wythedumpstercat · 7 months

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The Last Straw

Wy sighs as he wets and wrings out a piece of tattered cloth, placing it back on little Miya's burning forehead. Miya, the little human toddler Miss Candy had picked up on the road back to Goodhaven seemingly out of the blue. The toddler she'd dumped on Wy the moment he returned to the caravan from a little hand-slipping run along the road, picking up valuables from travelers that probably wouldn't be missed…too much. The toddler with bright trusting eyes and chubby rose coloured cheeks. Much chubbier than Wy had ever seen on the usual street rats Miss Candy brought in…

But the girl was burning up, and nothing Wy did seemed to make her cool down.

It had started with a mild cough as they'd entered Goodhaven. Barely a day later, the sweet rosy cheeks had turned feverish red, the poor child laboring for each and every breath. She needed medicine, or ice, just something, anything, to cool her down. Or magic. Wy had heard of healers who could do miracles with magic. But Wy had none of any of it. Maybe….maybe Miss Candy would allow it this time…?

He doesn't bother considering it for long. He grabs the first kid that walks past the open door, a ginger haired half elf by the name of Owen. A new face Wy hadn't seen before he'd returned. He looked younger than Wy. Must have joined the orphanage while he'd been away.

"Could you watch her a while? I'll be right back." Wy tells him.

Owen's green eyes dart between Wy's face, his hand on Owen's arm, and the little girl several times before nodding tentatively. "J-just watching her?"

"Yeah. Wring the cloth in cold water if it gets warm and dry. I'll try to be as quick as I can."

"I…uh. I can do that." The boy's voice inspires no confidence with how it wavers, but Wy can't afford to dally any longer. He strides out of the room to start his search for Miss Candy. It takes a while, but eventually he finds her on the rooftop talking to Eloise, a red skinned tiefling a few winters older than Wy, while inspecting some sprouts in a big tub of earth. The small wooden label sticking up from the dirt has an onion drawn on it.

The little vegetable patch Eliose had started so many years ago in small clay pots had become a veritable garden; pots of all shapes and sizes littered the rooftop area, some filled with green, some seemingly still just dirt though the labels tell otherwise. Wy would have found it delightful if he wasn't on the quest he was.

He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he owed it to Miya. Owed her to try if nothing else. She was a sweet child; boundless curiosity, fingers stickier than Wy, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Wy understood well why Miss Candy had picked her up. But that would all be moot if…

"Miya needs medicine, or she won't survive the night." Wy declares when he gets within earshot of Miss Candy.

Miss Candy turns to him, squinting. "Who–oh! The little human girl. Is she still sick?"

"Why else would I be here asking for medicine. Just something to get her fever down, I don't know…"

The pink Tiefling purses her lips. Her silence speaks for itself.

Wy grits his teeth. "You're just gonna abandon her to survive on her own, is that it."

"We have finite resources, my dear. We have to spend it all wisely," Miss Candy tuts. "and she has yet to show her worth." The smile she pulls out is hideously patronizing.

"So, what. You took a girl, from a loving family, just for her to end up here? Burning up by a fever she wouldn't have gotten if she'd been dressed warmer? With warmer clothes we don't have?"

Miss Candy laughs. "We're not a charity, Whiny. Miya has potential. Just like you did. But if she can't handle the conditions here, then there's nothing we can do for her."

She didn't deny it. Didn't deny that she'd taken Miya. How many others had been taken unnecessarily…maybe even him…

"Did you bother remembering who her parents were then. Maybe if we could get her back to them–"

A sharp cackle stops him short. "Why would I bother remembering insignificant people? And even if I did remember, how many miles apart are we at this point? I wouldn't even know, they weren't traveling in the same direction as us."

Of course. What the hell was he even expecting…

"Then my real parents," Wy begins, he doesn't even know where he's going with this. It's not like it's of any use. Doesn't know why it even matters, but it does. It does because he sees himself in Miya. She deserves better. Maybe…maybe he as well did…once.

Miss Candy raises an eyebrow at him, as if saying 'oh, so this is what this is about'. "Didn't want you." She finishes for him matter-of-factly.

"You told me they were dead." Wy forces out through gritted teeth. "But I don't remember seeing them dead. Or dying."

She waves his words away. "Your brain probably erased that memory for you. Trauma can do that."

"Bullshit. I've never displayed any of the signs."

"What signs?"

"The trauma signs. I've handled and raised enough kids now to recognize it. I don't have any."

Miss Candy huffs, crossing her arms as a bored look settles on her face. "What is this about Whiny?"

"My parents didn't die. You stole me. Kidnapped me. Just like you kidnapped Miya." Why?

Miss Candy snorts hard enough for her hair to fall into her face. "Did it really take over a decade for you to figure that out?"

The knot in Wy's stomach tightens to the point where he has to curl his fist into his shirt to keep whimpers from spilling past his lips.

"You weren't complaining then. You even came with me willingly. As did she." The smug smile she's wearing nauseates him. To her left, Eloise is silent, her mouth set in a tight disapproving frown. Wy can't tell if it's aimed at him or Miss Candy.

"I was what. Three--" he forces past the bile in his throat.

She sighs. "Whiny--"

"--I didn't know any better! How could I? I must have been barely a child; a toddler!" Like Miya. They couldn't be the only ones unnecessarily kidnapped. How many of the kids that didn't make it would have survived if they hadn't been forced into the Damned life? How many small cold hands would he have been spared from experiencing?

The silence stretches for a moment. Then two. Wy doesn't dare meet Miss Candy's eyes. Doesn't know why except that he's terrified of what he'll find there if he looks. When Wy continues speaking it's quiet. Downcast. "All we kids are to you…is…is a source of–of profit."

"Wy." Candy's tone turns sharp. Warning.

"THAT IS NOT MY NAME." Wy nearly thunders, eyes burning. He can't remember ever having been this loud before. "Do you even remember what my real name is?" He struggles to catch his breath, still incapable of raising his gaze further than Miss Candy's whiteknuckled hands fisted in her skirts. They're trembling. "Because I don't." His voice breaks. He turns on his heel, and storms off the rooftop.

He'd heard Arryn had had a massive shouting match with Miss Candy before he disappeared a few years ago. He'd probably been braver. Louder. Thrown things, as Arryn tended to do. Nothing like this pathetic display.

And. Wy wasn't brave enough to just. Leave. The littles needed him. Miya needed him…

He scrubs at his eyes, before going back to the cramped sick room he'd placed Miya in. Owen jumps up from his spot on the floor with a relieved sound when Wy returns. "There you are!" He stutters. "I almost–she. Um. She was so warm. So so warm. Almost hurt my hands. But! She finally fell asleep just now. Ain't as warm no more. That…that's good right?"

Wy steps over to the cot on the floor, fingers brushing away the cloth on Miya's sweaty brow, moving her blonde curls away from it.

She's cold. Too…cold.

Wy breathes. Swallows. Closes his eyes.

"You did good, Owen. Thanks…Go…umm…go get something to eat. You look like you need it."

Owen nods a few times too many, face pale. He knew. Just as Wy knew. What a shitshow.

But it wasn't Owen's fault. Nobody's fault really. Miya just got mad unlucky. She shouldn't have been here…should never have…

Wy grabs the most tattered blanket he can find, one most of the others won't think about missing. It's stiff and coarse and probably used to be a curtain in some lord or lady's house before some of the Kids 'found' it, but it wasn't of much use as a blanket. Not really. It worked well to bundle up a little body however, hiding her from the other Kids roaming the hallways. It's not unusual for Wy, or other kids for that matter, to come and go with badly wrapped bundles of mysteries and loot during all times of day. Even night.

Most of the kids just silently eyes the bundle curiously. Even Thrinnav casts it a curious glance as she hurries past in her own errands. Owen on the other hand, shrinks in on himself as Wy passes through the mess hall, nervously looking away when their eyes meet.

Outside, the shadows are growing longer, the sky overcast by tumultuous grey and the very last of winter's chill still strong in the wind nipping at any exposed skin. The winds only gets sharper the closer he gets to the docks. The crowds also become sparser. Seedier. Properly cared for and maintained lumber construction giving way to mismatched rickety planks blackened by age and weather and filth. The light rain and sharp wind doesn't make Wy's trek down to the outermost edge of the docks any easier, the walkway underneath his feet even more treacherous now than what the high tides alone could make them.

It's just as he turns the corner of a reddish tinted hut that a small halfling, wrapped in tatters even worse than Wy's own, scuttles past. Their eyes meet for but a moment. Wy stops. Turns. Watches the small figure disappear around another crookedly stilted hut further up. For a moment…no. It couldn't have been. It had to be wishful thinking. He tightens his hold on the bundle in his arms. Arryn would never look at him with dead eyes like those. No recognition. No cocky eyebrow tilt. There had been no news of Arryn for…years. He couldn't still be in Goodhaven. He was gone. Had to be. Why else hadn't he reached out to Wy? Why else would there still be no news of him? And Wy…Wy didn't have time to think now. He had a mission, and it had to be done before the tides receded too much.

He casts his gaze out over the rippling waters, looking for…there! Wy is lucky. He settles down on his knees by the edge of the outermost gangplank he can find, and lowers the bundle to it, hand reaching up to trace the tattoo hidden underneath all the layers around his elbow.

Whistling a long alternating tune, he finally gains the attention of the seal slipping playfully between the nearby gangplanks.

"Hey, water doggo…C'mere…" he can hear his words transitioning from human words to clicks and trills. The seal dips under the surface, and resurfaces right in front of Wy, sniffing the bundle curiously.

'human. dead human?'

"Dead cub." Wy admits. Somehow it's easier to say it like this.

'life is tough. this cub not tough enough.' The seal clicks.

"Could you…help me…send her out to sea? I don't want her to be stuck here, in between the rocks, forever."

The seal considers it for a moment. 'big creatures out there. She will be eaten.'

Wy nods. That fate is better than rotting here underneath shallow waves at low tide. If she could be eaten by large wild animals, she'd become part of the cycle of life faster. Maybe she'd find her peace faster even, if there was no body left to haunt…or even if she did haunt her body's grave, she'd get to explore the vast seas. See sights that were impossible to see from the shady docks of Goodhaven.

'human, kind. But I demand fishes.'

"And fishes you will get when you come back at sunrise." Wy promises. The fishermen always brought in their best catches in the early mornings.

Unwrapping the bundle, Wy slowly submerges the girl into the icy water, her golden curls the last thing to dip beneath the surface.

The seal clicks a cheery 'see you in the morning, human' before it too disappears beneath the waves.

His hands are cold. Fingertips slowly turning red, then eventually blue as he sits there on the floating gangplank, staring out at the rapidly darkening sea and sky. Wy can barely even feel it.

Why was he even here. Why did he bother. It wasn't like Miss C–...no….what was it Arryn had always called her again. The Hag. Yes. That fit better. It wasn't like The Hag cared whether he returned or no. Kids she had aplenty. Plenty had also disappeared. Or moved on. But where would he even go? Where could he go?

"Why? It's not like you're my dad."

"...would you like me to be?"

Wy's breath hitches, and he buries his face in his knees. He should have just said yes back then. Said yes and lived the pampered life as the son of a city guard. But that was years past. More squandered opportunities. He couldn't possibly show up at the man's doorstep now. He wasn't even a child anymore. And the littlies, the smallest ones, the ones like Miya…they needed him. Still…needed him…

The mild creak of the gangplank is all the warning he gets before a warm hand settles in his hair. "Figured you'd be somewhere 'round 'ere, kiddo."

Wy only shifts his head a bit to look at the blonde woman. One of the few former orphans who hadn't branched out too far from 'home', still wearing stupidly little clothing for the weather as Wy remembered she'd done before as well; the little crop top she wore underneath her cropped leather jacket both having too deep a neckline while also leaving her upper ribs exposed.

"Phia." He huffs into his arm.

"Mmmhm. Another lill'un gone, huh." Phia says softly as she wraps an arm around his shoulders. Or tries at least. He must have broadened since he last saw her. Instead her hand settles lower, rubbing soothing circles into his side.

Wy turns his face down into his knees again. It should be enough of an answer.

"What creature helped ya this time?"

"Seal." Wy mumbles eventually.

"Oh! Those are so cute. Didya promise it fish?" At Wy's nod, she chuckles, "Awright. I'll help ya get some in the mornin. I know a guy that owes me a big'un." She musses up his hair some more as she gets back to her feet. "But fr'now how'bout we head back. 's pretty darn cold out. 'n Owen was worried sick when ye didn't return for so long. Poor kid. Just joined us barely two moons past. Did'ya know he use't'be a servant slave before Miss Candy saved 'im from 'is masters?"

Phia continues her idle chatter as Wy gets to untangling himself, stretching out cold and stiff muscles before pulling his cloak closer when the wind reminds him of where he is, blanket bundled haphazardly under his arm.

Evening dark has descended and the tide's receded, but Phia's little hand held lantern casts just enough light to follow across the rickety gangplanks. The winds have picked up, nearly howling. It's still not loud enough to mask the animalistic howls coming from a shack on high stilts nearby. Sounds like someone is having a worse time than him tonight. Small consolation as that is.

Phia is still chattering about everything and nothing. Insignificant things like when Rue, another of the older graduated Damned kids, accidentally spilled her newest experimental concoction over little Tuna's tail, detailing the mad chaos that ensued as they tried to clean it off the furious little Tabaxi who couldn't decide whether he hated the concoction fizzing away at his tail or getting anywhere near water more.

They near an intersection when the uncomfortable howls finally lowers enough to be drowned out by the winds. Pia eyes the shack in question for a moment, Wy slips easily into following suit. It's…comfortable to just follow for once. Comfortable to be the youngest again, if just for a fleeting moment.

"Think that poor bastard finally kicked the bucket? Dun sound like a fun way to go." Phia hisses emphatically.

Wy just nods.

"I'm kinda glad I don't need to do that kind'a job as often no more. It does somethin' to yer head, the screamin'…" She slaps Wy's back with a grin, causing him to stumble a step. "Don't envy yer job either, to be honest, bud. That ye've held out this long without ditching is kind'a amazin'. I know Eloise screamed at Miss Candy till she was allowed to do the veggie garden stuff instead. Took a full week before 'er voice came back after, and she only did your job for a single year–"

Wy vaguely remembers this. Very vaguely. Days upon days where Eloise, his favourite Big Sister at the time, kept screaming behind closed doors.

His head hurt.

A window shatters, glass tinkling as the shards hit the gangplanks in the dark followed by a thumpsplash and loud and pained oof. Noise explodes from the shack and a little shadow pulls itself out of the water, getting to a stumbling run as much larger shapes come storming down the gangplank in hot pursuit.

Phila whistles at the sight, turning to share an impressed look with Wy. "That's…wow. Good for them. Bold move."

"Desperate." Wy mutters, just as the little shadow gets within the range of the lantern light. His eyes meet the halfling's terrified stare over Phia's shoulder, but the halfling doesn't even slow down. He races past and into the dark, the gauntness of his cheeks and vaguely familiar rags the only thing Wy registers before he's out of sight. It must have been the same halfling from earlier…

The pursuing gang thunders towards them. Phia takes a few steps back so as to not get caught up. Wy on the other hand doesn't budge.

"Wy….what'cha doin…?"

Wy digs around for the edge of the blanket in his hands, dropping it to the side and into the water, the cloth rapidly soaking in the sea water. That halfling might not be Arryn, but it had been a while since Wy had even thought of his favourite Big Brother. Since he couldn't guarantee Arryn's safety anymore…he could at least give this halfling a better chance at survival. As thanks for remembering better days, better people.

He times the swing so that the first thug gets the waterlogged blanket to the face. The thug grunts, loses his footing, and falls backwards. Straight into the next thug running up behind him, whose feet slips to both sides, landing him crotch first on the gangplank with a pained howl. The next thug in line tries to serve around them both and falls into the water with a splash instead.

Wy hears Phia groan a laugh behind him before he feels her hand grab his elbow, and then they're running too. Away from the splashing and furiously indignant shouts. Away from the docks. Away from…golden curls disappearing in murky waters.

Heart thundering in his ears, Phia's lantern bobbing chaotically in front of him, and the heavy stench of seaweed filling his nose, Wy finds has already made a decision.

It didn't really matter where he went. Anywhere but here. Anywhere and nowhere.

Just…away. Away. Away.

-:-

(So I'd written the confrontation with Miss Candy like...last year, but I discovered a song(Hardest Thing, by Sasha Alex Sloan) that just screamed Wy as he leaves the Damned life for good. And inspiration hit. And thus. Here we are. <3)

#dnd #out of the abyss #oc #wy: the written saga

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wythedumpstercat · 9 months

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Wy breathes in.

Dust and old books and the faint scent of blood. And something else. Something…comforting.

Breathes out.

The floor underneath him is cold, the stone stealing his warmth, but he can't find it in him to care.

He presses closer to the warmth radiating through the coarse fabric of the skirts he's not hugging to his cheek. He's just…holding. It. In his hands? Like. Just like. Two handfuls. Of the very bottom edges of the fabric. And resting his head a bit. On Her-uh. Someone's knees.

His head was just. So. Full.

He felt. Sick.

There had been too much of that recently.

He tries not to think about it, but the image of Amreth-Ezekiel-Her lying lifeless on the ground are insistent. They're fine now. Fine. Nothing like the…small bodies of…no. Don't go there. There had been so. Very many. He couldn't–

Some taken by fevers, some by the cold, by freak accidents or just not being able to keep anything down. The Spots. But each and every one of them he remembered. Each and every one of their names, their little faces, the hands that eventually went cold..The too small bodies he had to bundle up and–

No!

His breath stutters. It was so long ago. He'd thought he was done with it.

When he buried the Old Geezer, he'd felt relieved. So relieved that his head didn't force him to mentally tally the names. All the names. As he'd done every time he'd let go of a new…bundle of cloth. In water or in earth.

He didn't even need to tally any new names this time. So why did it feel like he was suffocating.

Fingers card into his hair, a soft tune hummed softly above him. He tightens his grip on the fabric in his hands. Sinks further into the familiar scent. The warmth. Finds comfort in the faint heartbeat thrumming against his ear. Nobody died. Everyone were fine. They were all still alive. And Wy would be Damned if he couldn't keep them that way.

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga #art #maybe I'll clean up the sletch sometime...but not now

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wythedumpstercat · 10 months

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Wy and the Hermit

The old man creaks a snicker at Wy from across the heavy set wooden table, but the scruffy teen doesn't stop staring blankly at the tower of flatbread, the assortment of wild berries, and neat slices of boiled eggs and cured meat spread out in front of him. This wasn't quite where he'd expected to find himself after weeks meandering through unmarked woods, avoiding any and all settlements (and blacking out in what he'd thought was the middle of nowhere. But that wasn't really that important.)

People talked, and Miss Ca–The Hag's reach was widespread. Even though she rarely pursued the defectors, Wy knew she still kept track of them all.

And he did not want to be found.

Even the remote possibility of her knowing where he

was was……….

If his real family didn't know, neither should she.

His stomach gurgles impatiently at him. The old man makes more creaking noises and tosses a dark coloured berry at Wy's face. His jaw reacts before his hands, but he absolutely doesn't complain as he bites down on it and tart sweetness hits his tongue. Hunger and insomnia had already gnawed through most of his mass, and with his guard now down, reaching out and taking the next greedy bite, then another and another didn't need further persuasion.

It doesn't even occur to Wy to be wary of the old man until he suddenly reappears beside him bearing more food. This time a pungent smelling hard cheese, which Wy eyes with skepticism for a moment. A small taste confirms that while pungent it doesn't taste spoiled, so down it goes too alongside several flakes of flatbread and an entire jug of water.

When Wy finally makes his way back to reality he finds himself with a nearly painfully full belly, and very much alone in the little cottage cabin. He hadn't even noticed the old man leaving.

A strange man, that was. Crooked back and crooked teeth and a crooked nose in a crooked looking face, accentuated by the sparse tufts of fuzzy white hair on his bumpy skull. The cottage bears the same crooked nature, nothing in there is quite straight. From the doors to the table and chairs and tableware and the large fur rug on the floor in front of the equally askew stone hearth with a bumpy black cauldron hanging over the dwindling embers.

Just as the last of the embers fades out, the door swings open with a whisper that ends in a squeal and the old man comes trudging in in a huff carrying a few logs of wood. He heaves them towards the little alcove beside the hearth that's obviously normally supposed to be kept full, but it's conspicuously empty. With that kind of progress it'd take the man forever to fill it up.

Wy frowns. His stomach is still uncomfortably full, but the man had fed him. Not only fed him, but let him have a roof over his head, and even a fur padded cot to sleep on. Waking up surrounded by fur and scratchy, but delightfully warm, wool blankets had been so unexpected, there had been a few long moments where Wy wondered if maybe he'd died.

Either way, it wouldn't be right of him to not give something back to the old geezer. Never was Wy to be considered ungrateful. No service would go un-repaid, somehow. So he gets up, and plucks the logs from the old man's arms, tucks them in the alcove, and asks him where the rest of the logs are. The old man cracks a grin, then points to the door as he says a foreign word.

Outside?

Sure enough, there's a small pile beside a chopping block close by, the ax resting against its side.

He manages to carry half of the ready pile inside, and as he's stacking more logs into the alcove, the old geezer snorts another foreign word while wiggling his fingers at the hearth.

In the matter of a single blink of an eye, the air seems to respond to the old man's voice. Something gathers at the tips of his fingers, and what Wy can only identify as energy seems to rush past him and gather into the point the man is focusing, bursting into light and warmth and crackling fire on the lone log in the fireplace.

The old man must catch him staring at the fire that sprouted out of nothing, as he creaks another laugh, and wiggles his fingers at Wy with the most massive creases at the corners of his eyes. He seems to ask a question in that foreign tongue, probably inquiring about his interest in the little trick he'd just done.

Wy had seen magic being done before. The streets of Goodhaven saw its fair share of magic users passing through often enough, but he'd never…actually felt it like this before.

Wy knew he couldn't use magic. Miss Candy had put him through the testing paces, just as most of the other kids. Magic users were rare, but incredibly useful after all, and she couldn't afford to have kids with magic not using magic for her. So this probably wasn't magic. A trick? Must be. But it felt replicable. Something told him he could probably…probably do the same. Something was whispering to him right outside his hearing range. What was the word the old guy had used?

Wy mutters it to himself, words it like a question, testing it out on his tongue. A tingle dances past his cheek, down his arm to his fingertips, then he promptly tosses the log in his hand into the fireplace as flames overtake it as if it had always been on fire. It crackles spicily beside the other log the geezer ignited.

The old geezer cackles, slapping his knees. He laughs till tears start rolling out of his uneven eyes. When he finally gathers his breath again, he herds the still frozen and wide eyed Wy outside again to chop more wood.

-:-

It was heartening how Nature seemed to know exactly what Rayi needed and promptly sent exactly that his way without him having to reach out himself. Rain to fill his water barrel when his back was too stiff to hoist water up from the well. Two ducks falling out of the sky after they'd seemingly crashed into each other mid-air and offed each other on the day he craved some fresh meat. And now, just as his old body was complaining most severely about its many years of use, suddenly he had a strappingly healthy youth chopping and carrying firewood for him with the most impressive affinity to Nature and the Craft he had ever witnessed in his many years of life.

The Boy didn't quite seem aware of it himself, but Nature spoke to him freely, and he instinctively followed its cues. It was no wonder he'd managed to stumble his way to Rayi's cottage this far into the wilderness. He had chosen this spot exactly for its remote and closed off nature. And, well. There was that mine shaft not far off. Thus he should have both expected and predicted the boy's penchant for befriending…Nature's Creatures.

Sure, it was cute when he talked to the sparrows in the bushes while out picking berries, and also with the deer coming all the way up to the cabin to greet them in the early hours in the morning.

It was less cute when the boy came bursting out of the bushes, the arm of his shirt in tatters and carrying a screeching and bleeding owlbear cub, followed closely by a roaring mountain lion, and the sound of Mama Owl screeching even louder as she came crashing through the forest not far behind. The mountain lion bailed the moment it realized it'd be outnumbered by Threats and at a major disadvantage when Mama Owl arrived, but the crisis was far from averted even then.

Calming down a furiously terrified and protective Owlbear mother wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but a few aptly placed vines, followed by soothing words in Owl with the help of a few spells deescalated the situation efficiently. Rayi had thought he was too old for mediating like this.

The Boy meanwhile, having just recently picked up the simplest healing spell after Rayi had shown the process to him following the Boy's tumble down a fruit tree, was busy patching up the cub, now that he could concentrate on it in peace. Rayi eyds the tattoo circling the Boy's exposed elbow. It slowly shifted in colour as the Boy mumbled calming words to the cub, and the cub goes from squirming to rapt attention at the Boy when his human words slowly blended over into calming chirps and hoots instead. Interesting.

Freshly healed, the cub is eventually released to rejoin its mother, and they trudge back into the forest.

"Where'd you get that tattoo, boy?"

The Boy glances between Rayi's finger pointing at his elbow, and Rayi's face, frowning, obviously still completely blank on Druidic. He'd learn, with time.

"My…elbow?"

Rayi shakes his head. "Not elbow."

"The tattoo?" The boy tries.

"Yes. The tattoo."

Considering it for a moment, the boy touches the water-like swirls inked into his skin, looking a bit sheepish. "I…um…pickpocketed a lady once when I was pretty little. She was of the traveling adventurer sort. Found me the same day, saying she wanted her money pouch back. Turns out she'd talked to a few alley cats and bribed them with fresh fish to stalk me down. When I asked how she talked to the cats, she showed me her own tattoo on her wrist. So….I…gave…back…the money pouch in return for having her help me…get the same tattoo? and teaching me how to use it. It takes a while to work, but it's very useful!" He finishes in a rush, looking ready to bolt.

Rayi just grins. And wild shapes into a large greying mastiff, licking the Boy's shocked face. It was still too soon for the Boy to learn this skill in particular, but how could Rayi not show him the possibilities when the Boy's love for Nature's Creatures showed so true; and seeing the youth's eyes sparkle in wide eyed wonder at the transformation warmed Rayi's old heart.

Rayi hadn't thought he'd ever find a suitable apprentice, but Nature truly never did let him down.

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga #bit more backstory :3

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wythedumpstercat · 1 year

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Episode: Back in Goodhaven

Passing through the gates of Goodhaven for the first time in what must have been six...no...seven winters, it feels like nothing has changed. The sun is setting over the city walls, and Wy takes in the familiar sight of the bustling crowds, eyes tracking the smaller street urchins weaving expertly between people's legs. A pair of streetlight lighters have started lighting up the street lamps, and the many street-side hawkers have begun packing up their wares for the day.

The atmosphere however, is agitated, the reason of which is obvious enough. The pride and heart of the city, the famous clock tower still towers magnificently above the rooftops, but Wy can already see something is very wrong. The time on the clock face doesn't match up with the timing of the setting sun.

When the party gets closer, it becomes apparent why. The rumour of the attack on the tower had undersold how badly the clock had been damaged. It looked like something had burst out from the inside, one of its faces now completely gone. At the base of the tower, the city guards were busy milling about, clearing away the rubble. Wy finds he recognises a good deal of these guards by face, and decides that it's best to not join the rest in approaching them; Arryn seems to be of the same opinion.

Instead he eyes the missing clock face. He'd been in there before, having climbed and entered the tower in his youth. He'd even encouraged other Damned kids to do the climb, since it had proved to be a great coming of age excercise in stealth and a number of other useful skills. Digging up a small forked twig from his numerous pockets, he mutters the incantation for locating objects as he tries to recall as much of the contraption that used to take up the majority of the inside of the tower behind the clock faces. Small pieces of rubble draws his attention in the crumpled piles on the ground, which is to be expected...but as he raises his gaze to the surroundings, the top of another building seems to glow, pulsing lazily at him. Wasn't that...that was the Bank. The oldest one in the city if he remembered right. Interesting.

Meanwhile, none of the guards there were very amenable to the questions from the rest of the party, and so Ezekiel and Laenor announces that they'd very much like to go to a nice tavern to drink their day away. Jorlan and Dane joins them, while Allie says she'd like to check in with the local outpost of her church. Wy blinks as he thinks of the building where he remembers having seen others wearing the same garb as Allie came and went from, and comments that an 'outpost' wasn't quite what he'd call what was here, but he'd show her the way. Arryn tags along as he's still strapped into the Hooky-carrier. The rest also break off to do their own things.

Arriving at the heavily ornate cathedral Allie seems a bit overwhelmed for a moment, then heads inside alone.

While Arryn is hissing at the stone swan gargoyles decorating the outside, Wy spends some time getting the attention of a group of fat rats in a nearby back alley. Sending them off with a short message to a few different individuals Wy hopes is still in the city. He doesn't expect much. He has been gone a very long time after all, so when Thrinnav appears at the edge of the square, Wy immediately perks up despite her obvious apprehension.

It takes a while talking to her to make that apprehension melt away into a somewhat companionable mood instead. While she doesn't know anything more than the party does about the perpetrators of the clocktower incident, she does mention that she can get them into places, if that turns out to be necessary. Wy jokingly suggests the clock tower. Thrinnav makes a thoughtful noise before saying that it'd definitely be doable, though more challenging than usual with the guard on high alert as they are.

Remembering Laenor's fun history-music-skill-thing, Wy tells Thrinnav they'll need to get a friend before they go at it. It's hard to set a specific time, since the clock tower is out of commission, but they decide to reconvene near the tower just before dawn, when the night is darkest and the guard shift is getting ready to switch.

Allie eventually comes back out, the bottom front of her dress somehow looking wet and stiff at the same time, still trailing drops of red. A message had apparently come from Ezekiel, informing of the inn they'd ended up at. The Silver Oak apparently. Waste of good gold.

Getting to the inn, they all bump into eachother in the hallway on the second floor. Laenor is thoroughly inebriated. Too inebriated to join in any break-in shenanigans, he insists.

"I can fix that." Wy quips, and cups(read: slaps) Laenor's face in his hands, casting a quick restoration spell. The blond's face cycles from giddy drunkenness, to surprise, shock, and settles at outraged frustration within the space of a heartbeat.

"RUDE!" He nearly screeches.

"So, you joining now or what?" Wy asks, nonplussed.

"NO!" Laenor grouses, and turns to sulk to Jorlan about it, but seems to only get amusement in return. The sympathy he probably hoped for, is nowhere in sight; Dane and Ezekiel also failing epically at containing their mirth.

Wy sighs. They all did need a break, to be fair, and Wy could agree that finally breathing fresh air again felt great. They did deserve some time off but...

Ezekiel supplies between giggles that they had gotten an in with one of the guards while at a tavern earlier, and had set up a meeting with Guard Captain Mills of the City Guard the next morning anyway. What was the point in going into the clock tower the illegal way, when they could do it legally?

It would be less fun is the point, and Wy couldn't help feeling a bit antsy about being back in Goodhaven.

....and the name of the Captain rings a bell. An uncomfortable one.

Wy ignores it in favour of muttering about going for the bank instead. It had pinged when he'd tried locating the clock components after all. Not that he bothers telling anyone about it. Well, except Arryn. At least Arryn is dependable in situations like these.

Or...maybe not...Wy thinks for a split second when the alarms start blaring the moment Arryn slips through the little window in the wall of the bank. No, it was probably just rotten luck today. It'd felt awkward when he had vaulted Arryn up to the window in the first place. Everything felt off today. So no, Arryn was the best. The greatest. What an absolutely stupid thought, he berrates himself while he sprouts four extra sets of limbs, stretching into a giant spider.

He isn't fast enough however.

"What the Hell is that!!" A guard spots them as Wy scuttles up the wall, pulling Arryn along for the ride.

"Aw, Hell no." Someone else curses.

"Shoot it down, coward!"

At that Arryn starts screaming dramatically about being kidnapped. It seems to work. No arrows follows them, but unfortunately the sound of people taking up the chase does.

Quick thinking has Wy Wild Shaping out and into a much smaller spider when the guards lose sight of them momentarily, and attaches himself to Arryns shoulder instead. Arryn does a valiant attempt at fooling the guard into thinking he is an innocent bystander, but it devolves into a wild chase over the rooftops instead.

Just as they're approaching the Silver Oak, Ezekiel pops out of nowhere, grabbing hold of Arryn by the neck, and poof they both go elsewhere.

Little Spider Wy lands expertly on the crooked roof shingles, suddenly all alone. He doesn't stay alone for long. The guard that had been chasing them catches up soon enough and while the poor guy is glancing around furtively after any sign of the suspect, a little Spider climbs up his boot, settling quietly in the folds of fabric at the man's lower back. He stays there unnoticed, all the way back to the bank that is still blaring the alarm.

The guard reports losing the suspect over the rooftops to his superior. The superior sighs, shaking her head. "We might as well turn off the alarm. I think it has alerted everyone that needed to be woken up, and many more besides. Let's not push the citizens' patience more than necessary in these trying times." And so, through the main doors and into the bank propper the guard goes.

Pulling a lever makes the noise stop. Having done that, the guard trots back out. The little hitch hiking Spider on the other hand had already disembarked the Guard Ride, and as the sound of the guard fades from the building, a full sized Wy settles down in a corner, knocking his head back against the stone wall.

He was in. And there was nobody around. He could afford a short breather before starting the search.

Breaking another forked twig, the spell has his attention fixed to the floor. He can feel the thing he's looking for is somewhere faaaar beneath where he is. Good. He hadn't sensed wrong earlier. Seems his luck had turned.

Or maybe not, he thinks a short while later when he jolts awake from the sound of people entering the bank again.

Peeking through the crack between the door and the frame he watches the three guards split off; one heading upstairs, one down, and the last one stays to thoroughly inspect the foyer. The guard makes his way slowly past the booths, inspecting them each meticulously. As he nears the room Wy is situated in, Wy mutters the spell for Pass Without Trace. Unfortunately, it seems he isn't quiet enough. The guard whirls around, and readies his weapon, approaching the door with caution.

Wy pouts. Fine. He quietly presses his back into the wall behind the door, while digging up the caterpillar cocoon he'd prepared in advance from one of his many pockets. Crushing it in his palm, he waits till the guard has fully entered the room. The hand motions are quick and efficient, the incantation precise, and just as the guard turns around to lock eyes with Wy, Wy blows the powdered cocoon into his face. The transformation lags for a moment, the guard's eyes wide and horrified. Then, there's a turtle in his place, swaying shellshocked on its four stubby feet, the look in its eyes mirroring the man it had just been.

Wy can't help the grin as he crouches down to come closer to the turtle's level, patting the top of its shell. Animals sure were better than people. "You were so slow out there, I thought this form would suit you better."

Glancing around the room, Wy spots some buckets and other cleaning equipment. He picks up one of the buckets and a broomstick. Bringing his Bag of Holding to a heist as risky as this was a bad idea, so he'd left it in Dane's room at the inn, meaning he had nothing except the bare necessities of supplies. The broom would work as a makeshift quarterstaff if necessary, and the bucket would be nice in case he needed a throwing weapon. Stepping past the turtle Wy swipes the turtle up into the bucket. "You might turn out to be useful too." He tells the Turtle Guard. The turtle blinks slowly at him, head retracting into its shell to the point where only the tip of its nose peeks out. Wy chuckles. "Don't worry. I'll be nice."

So down the stairs they both go. Wy can hear the footsteps of the guard that went downstairs echo in the halls, while his own are just whispers against the cold stone. If he's lucky, he won't bump into the man at all.

He isn't that lucky. Walking past hallway upon hallway of smaller vaults, slowly working his way down further into the belly of the bank's fortified underground, he does eventually see the flickering light of a torch at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. Unfortunately.

Hiding in the shadows in the corner by the stairway opening, Wy considers his options until his eyes land on the Turtle Guard still nestled in the bucket. If the Turtle Guard had eyes that could bug out of their sockets, they probably would be by the time Wy picks the turtle up and tosses it down the stairs at the upcoming guard.

"What the fu–" is all the guard has time to say before there's a crash, and then a series of louder crashes cascading down the stairs.

Wy peeks out from around the corner, down at the unconscious guard at the bottom, lit by the flickering flame from the torch that landed nearby. The turtle is swaying back and forth on its back, still spinning slowly, feet kicking uselessly in the air.

That worked surprisingly well.

A voice comes from somewhere above. Ah, right. There was a third guard. Hm. Better pick up the pace then.

Walking past the guard on the floor, Wy picks up the turtle.

"Don't take that too personally, k dude? You were just so very convenient. And it worked, didn't it?" Wy says to its little face before placing it carefully back into the bucket. "Your buddy is probably fine. He's still breathing. And I'll be outta here soon enough. I just need to check something, see."

A 'thunk' emerges from the bucket.

"Oh. Why am I still bringing you along? I'm sure you'll be convenient again 's why."

Several more floors down, the sound of the third guard finding the unconscious guard finally reaches Wy, but no matter. The lead he had on them should be enough…Wy thinks, until he’s faced with two large dragon statues guarding a door that’s also a dragon. All six pairs of eyes stare ominously at him. On the door there’s a riddle. “None unseen may pass” or something like that. Wy doesn’t give the wording much attention.

Putting out the torch does nothing. Eyeing the eyes from behind his darkvision goggles, he bends down to rip some strips of fabric from his trouser leg, and ties them around the two guard dragons’ eyes. Still nothing. Maybe…? He covers the last two eyes on the doors with his hands.

The doors begin to inch open.

As the crack widens, what Wy sees inside has him frowning.

There’s pillows and books strewn over the ground surrounding a makeshift table made of stacked books and a tablecloth that looks like it’s been abandoned in a hurry. The grate in the far corner clangs shut behind a bushy tail in testament to that, but one single person stayed behind and they’re staring back at Wy with large glassy eyes.

“Sloopy!? The hell are you doing here?”

Sloopydoop bubbles something unintelligible, as per usual.

The doors are now wide enough for Wy to slip inside, still carrying the broom and bucket with the Turtle Guard nestled inside. Aside from the loose items lying around, there’s another door on the other end of the room, and something large covered in a giant tarp. Wy strides over to inspect it and the door. There’s no obvious way into the next room, and the locating spell still pings further down.

“Y’know, I’d appreciate some assistance, Sloopy.” Wy almost whines.

Sloopy bubbles some more, and Wy wrinkles his nose at him. It would have been so much easier if the Fish would speak some normal common rather than that undercommon gibberish.

The guards finally figure out the doors, and Wy suddenly has very little time, but at least he has good ideas. He grabs the Turtle Guard from the bucket, and carefully times it so that the door opening is just large enough when he lets the turtle fly towards the female guard opening the doors. A quick hand gesture accompanied by a release word, and the turtle rapidly turns back into a person in midair, crashing noisily into the guard in the door. They both tumble to the floor outside the room, and the doors again start sliding shut.

Unfortunately that doesn’t keep them down for long, and within a few moments they’ve managed to get inside again. A fight breaks out while Wy tries to focus more on figuring out the door than dealing with the guards really. In a desperate effort to incapacitate the guards, again, he summons two giant snakes. They fall in, covering the room in pure writhing muscle. Hm. Maybe not the best idea.

One of the guards manages to get a good grapple on Wy, and he gets dragged out of the room. Sloopy…disappears and is of no help, while the snakes tries to bodyslam the guards, also to questionable effect.

By this point, Wy figures it’s probably better to just bolt, but getting out of the grapple proves to be difficult. He never was the best at getting away from live people…places on the other hand was easier. People. Ugh.

He tries literally ferreting away, but the guard grappling him doesn’t let go. He is rude enough to stuff Ferret Wy into a bag, and Wy is thoroughly offended.

It takes a while, but eventually Ferret Wy manages to gnaw a hole in the bag, and slip out onto the floor. The guard immediately knows something is wrong, and he takes up the chase, boots clattering loudly down the stairs once again.

A few floors down, it seems Sloopy hadn’t been entirely useless after all, as he stands over one of the guards staring woozily up at the Fish that’s speaking gibberish at her, shaking a lungfish in her face.

Ferret Wy skids past Sloopy’s feet, and tries to jump onto his clothes, but Sloopy sidesteps completely. Wy chitters irritably up at him, and the Fish stares at him for a moment before making an understanding noise. Then he tosses the lungfish at the female guard and plods further down the stairs while casting a spell. A wall of force erupts between them and the guards.

Finally, some time to actually take a closer look at that stupid stupid door.

Not that it helps any, really. The door won’t budge. Pulling off the tarp from the big thing in the room, reveals it to be a large sculpture of a Beholder. There’s sigils carved into each of the irises on the eyestalks. Wy can’t make up or down of it at all. Sloopy seems to be able to read them, but the sounds he makes doesn't make any sense to Wy either, so that was useless.

At a loss for what else he can do, Wy decides it’s probably best to just book it out of there. It wasn’t like staying any longer would be of much help, and it sounded like the guards were on their way down the stairs once again anyhow.

He climbs down through the sewer grate in the corner, and looks up at Sloopy. The Fish grimaces, and then poofs out of existence. That was also a way of booking it.

The parts of the sewers he ends up in looks older than any sewers he’d been roaming before, but then, he’d never liked hanging out in the sewers, unless it was absolutely necessary. Like now.

Emerging out of the sewers, Wy finds that the night is still plenty dark, which reminds him that Thrinnav is probably going to be waiting for him by the clock tower, unless he notifies her of the change in plans. He grabs a hold of a street cat, and tells it to carry a message for him. It obliges after a promise of a big chunk of the Good kind of fish in the morning. It would find him to collect the fee; Wy agrees easily.

Getting back to the inn from there is surprisingly uneventful, so Wy grabs his bag from Dane’s room when he gets there(the guy is snoring so loudly, Wy doesn’t even need to try being silent), before crashing in his own room for the night. Nothing is going to stop him from sleeping in that morning.

It’s nearing noon when he reconvenes with the rest of the group at some upscale eatery. More waste of money, honestly. These people…

Laenor asks him what he’s been up to, and Wy doesn’t bother lying as there’s no point in that. Not to mention, it had been exceedingly fun to bowl down the guard with the Turtle Guard. And telling the party of the clue he’d found was a good idea. He really didn’t think he’d be able to get through the door without them, puzzles had never really been his thing either.

The discussion over whether or not it is likely that there’s a Chiral Core inside that vault at the bottom of the bank rages on, and whether or not it’s a good idea to pursue it is touched upon, but ultimately falls flat. Ezekiel would rather just thoroughly enjoy the time they had topside, and Laenor agreed wholeheartedly. Which meant Mero(actively) and Jorlan(grudgingly), and also Dane(with enthusiasm) did the same. Ugh.

After lunch, Arryn decides he’s gonna try to hit up some old acquaintances. Wy tags along in case he needs backup. He doesn’t. Instead he almost leaves Wy with said acquaintances when he backflips out of the window when he decides to end the conversation. Wy isn’t too amused. But they did get some backup distractions for the future second(or was it third?) attempt at the bank. There had to be something in there, Wy just knew it.

They reconvene with the others once again, but this time at a bar named the Succubus. Wy and Arryn make another attempt at convincing the others that they really should take a look in that vault at the bottom of the bank. Allie and Amreth, surprisingly, seem in, but the others are more interested in a night of drinking and fun instead.

It takes Amreth grabbing both Wy and Arryn by their collars to prevent the two from running off to do the heist on their own. He insists that it’d be best to go in with everyone, preferably sober, and also with a proper plan. Preferably with permission from the correct authorities as well.

Wy wrinkles his nose at that. No way is he meeting that Captain. Nope. Nu-uh. Way too awkward. Especially if he was who Wy thought he was.

Thus it was decided that they’d go talk to the Captain once again, but in the morning.

Wy doesn’t join them, obviously. Instead he transforms into a small sparrow, and flits around, peeking in through the many windows of the City Guard Headquarters.

He spots the right window eventually, where Allie and Ezekiel are talking to Guard Captain Mills.

The man looks almost exactly like Wy remembers him. Broad shouldered and muscled, like someone who had never spent a single day behind a desk, despite the desk job he now sported. He probably still ran out to work in the field at any chance he got. Wy remembers he usually rather liked doing the patrols, but often not because it gave him something to do. It was more that he got to move his body around; helping people in a way that he could use his muscles for ‘what they were made to be used for’. Whatever that meant.

Wy didn’t even know if the man still remembered him. Probably not. He’d just been another street urchin back then. One of hundreds in Goodhaven that probably came and went. Even so, it was still best not to meet him.

It wasn’t like Wy had anything to say to him anyway.

-:-

Guard Captain Felix Mills shakes his head slightly as the door to his office closes behind the Shankers of Goodhaven, and Friends. The neat scrawl of Ezekiel's autograph laying neatly on top of his paperwork has him smiling despite all the recent troubles and the strange request that the group had come with.

Access to a single bank vault. On the off chance that there might be a Chiral Core inside.

How they had even gotten the information on the vault in the first place was...questionable in itself, but they were probably somehow connected to the instigators of the ruckus at the bank the night before. Strangely, nothing had been stolen, and the guards that had been stationed there came out of it with only some mild bruises, that were nothing compared to their bruised egoes. Their pride as Goodhaven's Guardsmen having been the greatest victim of the night, judging by the guards' testimonies earlier this morning.

Which hadn't been easy to extract from them. Normally he didn't require that kind of verbal recounting of events, but the report they had submitted had been abysmally lacking. In the face of the three guards' supremely embarrassed faces when Mills brought it up however, he'd agreed to let them explain off the record. Though he wasn't sure whether to believe them or not; the story being so absurd and surprisingly benign.

A tall bushy haired young man, turning Jake, the newest recruit, into a turtle, bowling down Petar in the stairs. Summoning a Fish Person and two giant snakes, and a wild chase up and down the many sublevels of the bank. The youth, finally, turning into a ferret, only to disappear completely, leaving no trace. At the description of the young man, Mills’ heart had jumped. But the following story erased his suspicions. It was simply too absurd. That Boy had never shown any sign of magic…

Having readied the letter with the Shankers' request alongside his office's seal, he set his secretary assistant on the job of getting the right people to the right places in preparation.

He's deep in thought when he returns to his desk. Glancing out the window he catches the Shankers of Goodhaven being joined by a tall man with a strangely familiar demeanor and unmistakable messy curls. Mills presses his side into the window frame, squinting to get a better view. Was that...?

A disbelieving laugh escapes him when he finally recognises the face just as the group slips into the growing crowds. But it made sense. If it truly was that boy, it all made sense.

When his secretary assistant returns to report that the preparations have been made, the girl finds the Guard Captain intermittently giggling into his paperwork. She raises an eyebrow at the chain of turtles chased by a small ferret doodled into the margins of the report lying at the top of the Finished pile she gathers to be filed away, but the Captain only shakes his head at her questioning gaze.

-:-

It had been his first week as a newly minted recruit of the Goodhaven City Guard when Mills had to personally deal with the boy for the first time. Well. It was more like he'd yanked the boy right up off the street when catching him red-handed at pickpocketing. The boy couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old.

He had thought dropping him off at the Guardhouse would be the end of it, but the boy slipped between the bars of his cell, and then promptly caused a mass escape incident by lockpicking a number of the other cells. According to the testimony of the other convicts anyway. The report said nothing of the sort, but having the fact that a child managed to escape out of the city guards' dungeons, and also breaking out a bunch of other convicts on his way out, in writing would be massively embarrassing for the institution. Instead, they quietly just added more steel bars to the existing ones.

Mills meanwhile vowed to keep an extra eye out for the urchin with the shaggy dark hair, which turned out to be a sound decision as the boy didn't lack for shenanigans. It ran mostly in small-time theft and breaking and entering. And the occasional absolutely mind boggling nonsense.

Like the time he stole what turned out to be the good Lady Edwina Skald's aging cat. The Boy had insisted he'd just been helping Mrs Grandma Cat because she'd been complaining about her limbs hurting too much to climb high enough to see the sunset from the best spot in the city. Namely the ledge just underneath the clocktower's west facing clock face, which was just where Mills had happened to spot him and the cat while on a patrol. Getting access to the clocktower just to order the boy to come down from there had been a mess. The guard on shift at the tower initially refused him entry, but when the boy high up there inside the restricted area was pointed out to him he suddenly couldn't get up there fast enough.

The report writing following the incident had also been an absolute headache, because of course the boy refused to come down willingly before Mrs Grandma Cat was done with enjoying the sunset. When the sun finally did set, he still wouldn't budge. It took Mills half hanging out of a narrow hatch near the clock face in question, trying to reason with the kid for a good ten minutes before they eventually landed on the terms: to let the boy personally take the cat back to its owner, in exchange for coming down without wasting even more of the guards' time.

Handing the cat over to a frail, but grateful, Lady Skald's arms, the boy blurts "Don't leave her alone again like that. She'd be whale-sized sad if she couldn't be there at your very last moment. She said wants to be the one to guide you to the other side."

The cold jolt racing down Mills' spine was nothing to Lady Skald's horrified expression, nor the two rows of servants having gone bone rigid.

"Boy!" Mills hisses, and when the boy looks like he's going to continue talking, he slaps a hand over the kid's mouth. Apologizing profusely to the good Lady, who graciously ignored the ominous comments, Mills receives the Lady's thanks for returning the cat and bodily drags the kid away from the large manor entrance.

"What the hell was that Boy!? You can't say things like that to people!" Mills scolds when they've gotten far enough to not bother the old lady even more than they already have.

"Mrs Grandma Cat told me her Lady dun have long left." The boy pouts with his whole face as he mumbles. "She smelled a bit like it too. Both of them really. Probably won't survive the winter."

Mills sighs, forcibly relaxing his shoulders. "Even if you do know, some things are better left unsaid, Boy." He ruffles the kid's messy curls. "Here. Your finders fee. The Lady was generous." He says as he offers the boy the single gold coin the good Lady had given them.

The boy blinks at him, puzzled. "You're not keeping it yourself...?"

"I can't take money like this."

"B-but..."

"I'm already getting paid for this. Taking money directly from citizens for things that are already part of my job description would be very bad form. You on the other hand." He grins as he places the coin on top of the boy's head. "You deserve it." Looks like he needs it too, Mills thinks as his eyes trace the tatters the boy probably calls clothes, but doesn't voice it.

The coin disappears with a flourish of nimble fingers, and with a muttered "Thanks...Mr Guard Man Sir" the Boy also disappears, merging smoothly into the evening crowds.

Explaining all this to his superiors had been rather difficult, but he was just a recruit. He'd done well. For a recruit.

Then there was the time a few years later when a traveling menagerie arrived in town. They'd set up on the edge of the outer city outside the city walls and had been pulling massive crowds to the shows. The public’s complaints of being ripped off by the exorbitant prices and shady business practices of the staff became a constant murmur around the city. Two days into their stay however, the outer city suddenly got flooded by exotic animals running rampant in the streets. Some of them even managed to make it past the city gates before getting caught.

Arriving at the scene, Mills found a very familiar kid, being restrained by the menagerie’s own guard, sneering up at a red faced and hysterical Menagerie Owner. A Master Stoak. The situation gets explained and it turns out that the kid allegedly released all the animals.

Mills has to work hard to not massage his temples. He knows firsthand just how good at picking locks this boy is, but Master Stoak didn’t need to know the fact that the same kid had done the same to the City Guards’ own prisons several years prior. Man, the kid was good.

“The animals are kept in locked cages, right, Master Stoak?”

“Well of course! I can’t very well let them roam around free, you can see what happened when they were let go!”

“And they’re also usually guarded rather heavily, right? By your own guards?”

“Yes. Obviously! What is it you are trying to say Inspector!?”

“What I’m trying to say is, your guards sure are incompetent, letting a child sneak in and break out nearly every single one of your animals. If, truly, it was this child who did it, and not someone of your own crew who actually had access to the animals and the keys.” Mills deadpans. “Maybe it would be best if you spent a bit more money on some more competent guards, or maybe it’s about time you reevaluated your routines when it comes to who has what kind of responsibilities and access to what keys around here. Maybe then this kind of thing won’t happen in the future.”

Master Stoak sure does not like hearing that, and explodes into righteous fury, getting in an impressive straight left into Mills’ cheek. Mils staggers backwards as his second in command, and several others of Mills’ underlings rush to physically hold the man back from assaulting Mills further. The Menagerie’s guards seems to have taken a step back to just observe the spectacle; clearly not happy with what Mills said either, but definitely not willing to help de-escalate Master Stoak from doing something stupid.

They eventually manage to come to the agreement that the City Guards will assist the menagerie people in recapturing all the animals safely and not holding the menagerie accountable for the damages the animals caused in the city in return for not reporting Master Stoak for actual assault on Chief Inspector Mills, provoked or not, and holding the Menagerie open to the public, free of charge for the rest of their scheduled stay outside the city.

Master Stoak was of course not happy, but what could he do? He assaulted a City Guard. If he refused the rather generous terms, he’d most definitely have a good long stay in chains to look forward to, if not an even greater fine on his hands, which would be worse.

When Mills’ underlings have all gotten their assignments, and things were finally underway to be resolved, Mills turns to the source of the troubles.

The boy had been sitting quietly on a bench, observing. The guard that had been restraining him earlier had been sent off to help with the recapture as well, yet the boy had shown no intent on running away when nobody was looking anymore. Indeed, he looked downright angry where he sat, betrayal shining in his eyes.

“Why are you helping that Monster?” He accuses the moment Mills gets close. “He doesn’t deserve them! Dun treat them right! Treats None of them Right!” There is a quiver in his voice.

Mills sighs. “Boy. They are his animals. He owns them. You can’t just decide that he isn’t deserving, and let them all run free. That isn’t how it works.”

“B-but they cried to me. They all said they dun like it here with him. He’s mean, and the food is bad, and his people are mean too and they make the poor animals do things they don’t want and that are difficult and–!” The poor boy heaves shaky breaths, trying his hardest not to let the fat tears gathering in his eyes fall.

“And they’ll most definitely die if they disappear out into the wild here.”

“But at least they’d be free!”

“In a place they can’t call a home because it isn’t their right habitat. That freedom won’t be very long lasting, boy. They’ll just have traded assured but uncomfortable survival with certain death.”

That has the boy silent. As if Mills struck a nerve. Was there more to it than just sympathy for the animals? Mills bites down on the thought. It doesn't concern him. The boy was just a street urchin. He didn’t need to read that much into it.

“So, I got you out of some pretty serious trouble here. Can you promise me you won’t mess around with the cages again?”

The boy nods dejectedly.

Mills smiles, and ruffles the boy’s hair. “‘preciate it, Boy.”

-:-

After the Menagerie incident Mills started finding random items in his pockets if he’d been out in the streets. Small things like a shiny rock, or a small hand carved wooden figurine, or some other small trinkets. Then eventually short notes on small pieces of fabric or dried leaves. Some just said ‘cute magpi’ or ‘prtty rok tu big to carri’ or some such in blocky inexperienced letters. One memorable occasion the note said ‘som dickwad lifted this got it back’ tied to the strap of said money pouch.

Then one day came the note that would boost Mills’ career upward. He was doing well for himself as it was, he didn't really need nor want promotions, but what could he do when he got served it on a platter?

‘thing u’r looking for is here’ it said, with a pictogram alongside the writing on the scarf; It was just a bear with a bow tie and then an arrow towards a hole with an arrow pointing through it, and then a poop pyramid underneath. But Mills could guess where this was. His suspicions of it being the Boy dropping him these ‘gifts’ finally confirmed.

That teddy bear was after all a good depiction of the one Mills had bought the Boy after the Incident at the Toy Store, where he had busted the boy and his compatriots in robbing it. All the other kids got away, probably skittering out the back door and through windows, but few of them managed to take anything of great value. The Boy on the other hand had stuck around for some reason, and Mills quickly understood it was a ploy to help the others disappear and avoid repercussions. He’d had a moment where he was genuinely impressed, and then he’d realized that the likelihood of the Boy being the main instigator of this entire thing was rather high if he was willing to be responsible for the getaway of the other kids.

Still, the Boy diligently tidied up the store as Mills told him to, and as a reward for listening to Mills without complaint, Mills bought him the teddy since he’d noticed the Boy eyeing it.

The note was pointing to the manhole down to the sewers that was nearest to that specific toy store.

Investigating the sewer system nearby that manhole quickly revealed a large cache of smuggled goods, which then led to cracking a larger smuggler's den. The people apprehended during that bust would later lead them on to nearly taking down the entire smuggling ring.

At the end of it all, Mills would be credited with the greatest contribution to the case and promoted, much against his will.

The notes and trinkets kept coming and everything settled into a pleasant rhythm, with the occasional new breakthrough clues coming in, in the form of more pictograms only Mills could decode. He’d tried showing one of the pictograms to his superior, but the guy had just stared blankly at it till his eyes were spinning in confusion. He’d promptly been told he wasn’t allowed to quit, and to take good care of his informant. Which was easier said than done when Mills could barely catch sight of the Boy’s unmistakable mess of tangled curly hair unless the Boy let him. He’d gotten a lot better at sneaking around unnoticed with the years.

Another year goes by, then suddenly two weeks pass without a single trinket. Worry churns uncomfortably in Mills’ guts; had something happened to the Boy? He catches himself wondering if the Boy would come to him if he needed help…but why would he? The streets had served the boy well enough in the years Mills had known him, and it wasn’t like they had a relationship that would indicate that amount of trust and commitment?

Still, Mills can’t deny the relief he feels when the Boy slips into the seat across from him one evening while he’s out drinking and his table companion has disappeared off to the latrine for the moment.

The Boy had grown a lot since last Mills got a good look at him, his knees knocking into Mills’ underneath the table. He was probably gonna stretch into quite the giant in another few years, with enough food.

Mills grins. “Do I finally get an actual audience with our esteemed elusive Street Urchin? What an honor.”

The Boy, no teen now, snorts, lips curling into a half grin himself. The mirth dissipates worryingly fast, the Boy seemingly debating with himself. When he finally does start talking, it’s not what Mills had expected.

“I’m leaving Goodhaven. Figured you deserved to know.”

Mills swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “I see. Any reason you’d be willing to divulge?”

“You’ve heard of the Damned orphanage?” The Boy asks. Mills nods. Who hadn’t heard of that infamous orphanage. A good third of the street urchins around the city were from there, and the affiliated businesses were numerous, but could rarely be traced back to the orphanage. Mills had figured the Boy was one of those Damned kids, but had never had a need to confirm it. Well, now it was. Much use that was.

“The Hag–uh, Miss Candy, the…the pro…prie…tress, is opening up another orphanage in some other city. She wants me along for that apparently.” The Boy rests his chin in his palm, the lack of enthusiasm abundantly clear. “Turns out she thinks I’m good with the littlest ones. I mean, they’re kinda like little baby animals. Animals are easy to deal with.”

Mills hums a laugh. Only the Boy would compare toddlers to animals. "So, where exactly will you be going?"

The Boy raises an eyebrow at Mills. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does. I'd have to keep track of news coming from that direction. You don't seem like the type to write letters." Mills says as he leans back, crossing his arms with a mild smile.

Raising his head from the perch on his palm and tilting his head like a confused puppy, the Boy squints at Mills. "Why? It's not like you're my dad."

It feels like a punch to the gut. "....would you like me to be?" Mills blurts before he can stop himself.

Silence reigns while they both digest what's just been said. A blush hot enough to melt stone floods the Boy's face.

Mills can feel his own ears heating up in response. "I mean, I...I'd be willing to if you--"

"Are you completely out of your muscle brained mind? That's the stupidestest thing I've ever heard!" The Boy rattles, his eyes a bit wild. "You...you...massive chicken!" He finishes lamely as he pushes away from the table. He nearly trips in his attempt at a speedy retreat out of the tavern.

It’s the last time Mills sees or hears from him. That is, until now.

-:-

It was late afternoon, and Mills had finally gotten through most of the day’s paperwork. He considered having his assistant get him something to eat, but no, his butt was feeling exceedingly flat by now, and a walk would do him good. He’d just go grab something greasy off one of the many street stalls, as usual.

Walking past the fresh produce stalls, he nearly stumbles into a tall man. He apologizes, then does a double take, grabbing the man’s elbow when the man nearly bolts. There’s a tense moment where they’re both at an impasse, staring each other down.

“So it really is you, Boy.” The grin on Mills’ face is insistent. “Been a while, hasn’t it.”

The Boy, no…young man now, tries to tug his arm free, his expression conflicted. Mills has no compulsions to let him get away that easily. It takes one more furtive tug from the young man, before he huffs a sign, and petulantly pouts at the ground. Some things never change.

Mills drags him off to a nearby decent eatery, taking a table in a corner, and conveniently taking the outer seat, making it difficult for the young man to get away.

Drinks and bowls of hearty stew are placed on the table and the conversation is mainly one sided for a while, but with a bit of encouragement, Mills manages to get the young man talking. Catching up on the missing years. It’s quite the story. Almost unbelievable at some points, but with how reluctantly the young man is telling the tale, it can’t be anything but the truth. His enthusiasm rises when he gets to his newest pet, and Mills has to keep his face carefully neutral as the implications of the young man having a rapidly growing beast with razor sharp hooks for arms hits him. Good thing he didn’t bring the thing with him to Goodhaven. That would never end well…

Eventually there’s a lull in the conversation, and Mills frowns. "You know, I don't think I ever got your name back then...Hell, I still call you 'Boy'."

"Why–" The young man catches himself. Mutters something unintelligible, stops. Then, reluctantly, as if he isn't certain himself, he says a single word.

"Zen?" Mills repeats. Zen nods slowly, eyes tentatively meeting Mills', carefully gauging the man's reaction. "I'll remember that." Mills says as he ruffles Zen's messy curls. Just as he's done so very many times before, smile growing wide enough to split his face. It feels like he's been entrusted with a massive secret when Zen's entire posture softens; he very nearly melts into his arms on the table, face and ears redder than a tomato. Must have been something he'd had on his mind for a long time.

Mills pays for the tab.

“Do I have to squeeze out a promise of not being a stranger from you, or?” Mills threatens playfully when they get back out into the street. The sun has already begun to set over the city, bathing everything in soft orange tones.

Zen tilts his head from side to side with a considering look in his eyes. “I’ll drop by next time I’m in town.” He eventually agrees.

-:-

The next morning, Mills finds a small fluffy teddy bear sporting a red, spotted, bowtie on his desk in his office. His secretary assistant asks if he thinks it’s secure since nobody has had access to enter and place it there. Mills grins. He knows exactly where this came from.

-:-

OMAKE

“So where we gonna go tonight, fellas?” Yor slings her arms around the necks of both Petar and Jake, paying extra attention to muss up Jake’s hair. “Wha’cha say, Turtle?”

Jake blushes, covering his face with his hands, “I’m never gonna live that down, am I…?”

Yor cackles. “Nope! It’s gonna stick FOREVER!” She turns to Petar with a wider grin. “Though I mean, it’s better than Fishy. Don’t you agree?”

Petar grumbles irritably. “That bank is cursed, I say. I can still feel my spine feeling like jelly.” He shudders, then freezes to the spot.

Yor waves her hand in front of his face. “Yo, what’s wrong?” Petar grabs her arm, and points toward the two men who just exited a nearby eatery. Yor recognises the Captain immediately, just about ready to raise her voice to call him over when Jake squeaks in terror.

The person beside the Captain was none other than the youth that had given them such a hard time at the bank.

A thought hits Yor like a rampaging horse cart. Had…had the bank been a setup? A…a test!?

“Oh no. The bank was a test by the Captain…wasn’t it.” Jake whimpers. “We failed that test, didn’t we…” He looks ready to sink into the ground.

“Not just us. The entire squadron failed. Shit. I’d heard the Captain was good at this kind of thing, but holy shit. Training days are probably gonna be hell from now…” Petar mutters blankly into the air.

Yor just laughs nervously, and leads them both away from the Captain, just in case…of what she wasn’t sure, but either way, it was best not to meet that youth again. Ever, if she got her way.

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga

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wythedumpstercat · 1 year

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A gift from the Favourite Prince ;w;

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss

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wythedumpstercat · 1 year

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So....this forced a 5min break in the session. Everyone was laughing too hard to continue 🤣

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #Wy is a menace #I love him so much

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Kaelan Finds a Solution

Lithris has just gotten out of his Royal Guardsman armour when Iandral bursts into the barracks talking way too fast for anyone to catch the words. Telling the youth to take a deep breath and try again, the brunet eventually manages to convey his urgent message between breaths. "Captain Kaelan! Has ordered everyone! Of the Royal Guards! To meet up in the courtyard! Pronto!"

Exchanging confused glances with the other Guardsmen, Lithris sighs and shrugs as he herds everyone outside. This was just another oddity in a long line of oddities. Better to roll with the punches.

The courtyard is swarming with Guardsmen, it seems like absolutely everyone had indeed been called out. Captain Kaelan is pacing at the front of the congregation, his face emulating flashing thunderclouds. His silence has everyone whispering with each other and looking nervous, and someone has the bright idea of telling everyone to line up based on shift groups. When they've all stood in their neat lines for a while, the Captain finally speaks up.

"I have a new Training Excercise for you." He begins. Lithris can see several of the others straightening their backs. Oh dear. "In groups of eight on a four hour rotation, you are to capture and contain any and all animals on the castle grounds." Scandalized murmurs flare up, and is swiftly hushed away with a terrifying glare. When the Captain continues he's nearly hissing. "A black cat is of particular interest, but it can be mice or rats or even a crow. Use any tool, be eachothers' eyes and ears, be creative. I don't care how. Just. Do. It."

Someone raises their hand and asks about how the scheduling is gonna be set up forwards with regards to normal shifts and training when adding in this massive post, and nearly gets their head whipped off their shoulders from the Captain's fiery stare. It would apparently be taken care of and posted to the notice board in the barracks courtyard.

"Any other pertinent questions?" Now the Captain really is hissing. The faint sound of birdsong is the only answer he gets, everyone too intimidated to speak up. Not that there really was anything pertinent to ask about. He'd been quite clear, though the why of it was still elusive.

The Captain had started marching off when he suddenly turns on his heel, and stalks back to the front of the congregation. "Also. The Street Rat. The tall one. This applies to him as well! Capture. Him."

This time it's impossible to keep quiet and just accept it, and thus a cacophony of voices rises in both protest and confusion as to why they should be doing something so frivolous with their time. And teams of eight? Wasn't that a bit of an overkill?

The Captain sneers at them. "Come talk to me if it's too easy, otherwise I do not want to hear it. Just know that any guard who catches the boy will receive a boon of their choosing. Within reason."

That has the disatisfied mutterings turning excited instead. Well then.

-:-

The next day, the guards were abuzz with lively competitiveness, despite them looking and acting like absolute lunatics. The servants really didn't know what to make of it all. Chasing mice, carrying cages around, or even walking a badger on a leash. One memorable occasion that got gossipped heavily about was the time when the cat that Prince Ayal'aran tended to have around him got caught with a blanket. The team of three guardsmen literally tumbled over eachother in their attempt at re-catching it when it somehow struggled free and skittered off to the offended screeching of the guards. Before the three guards got to recover from the defeat, the Tall One of Prince Amreth's party of friends skidded down the hall from where the cat had disappeared looking harried and more bushy haired than usual, followed by a group of five more guards. The three cat chasers immediately got up to assist the new arrivals.

Upon catching sight of the three approaching, the teen rolls off to the side and slides in behind the curtains. Thinking they finally truly had the upper hand, the guards gloats a little between themselves with some jolly elbow knocking before they pull aside the curtains...only to curse up a storm when they find the space empty.

A while later when everyone's left to do work elsewhere, the curtains bulges and flutters as Wy tumbles out from the stone wall. He lies there sprawled out for a moment, staring at the ceiling, face scrunched up in a grimace that slowly changes into a giddy grin.

The Guard Captain had changed the rules of the game. Wy would have to think of ways to counter.

-:-

Staring down at the barracks courtyard, clutching at the railing of the balcony, Kaelan let's out a long relieved sigh. No new reports of ghostly activity had reached him in the past few days. The plan was working.

Still, the fact that a single druid rascal could elude his Guardsmen this well rankled. It was a sign that their normal training exercises needed thorough revision and improvement. Considering this, the boy was a blessing in disguise. Putting the Guardsmen under pressure to improve, while the real life stakes couldn't possibly be lower.

"A few little birds have told me of your sanity being questioned today." Ilira glides up to bump shoulders with him. "Care to shed some light on the situation?"

Kaelan shrugs and huffs, nodding down at the group of Guardsmen that just came running into the courtyard below. One carrying a cage with a single fat rodent, another with a chicken wrapped in a blanket tucked close to his chest, and the last one balancing a basket full of yellow little chicks. Ilira studies them for a moment with her brows slowly meeting in the middle. "I don't understand..."

Kaelan debates it to himself for a moment, then braces himself a bit as he explains the situation. Ilira's face goes on a journey through various conflicting emotions until amusement seems to outweigh the rest as she descends into uncontrollable chortles behind her palms in an attempt at holding back laughter.

A commotion erupts down in the courtyard. Someone is shouting something about a cat. Kaelan glances down, squinting. Indeed, one of the guards have appeared with a black cat wrapped in a blanket. But so has another guard. A third stumbles over with a black cat in a cage, the white bandages around his hands a stark contrast to his darker somewhat dishevelled uniform, joining the argument over which cat is the right cat.

“Ilira. Kaelan." Kaelan tears his gaze away from the source of his growing headache to greet Ayal'aran only to zero in on the creature nestled in his arms. Gold slitted eyes blinks lazily up at him, sporting the smuggest look he's ever seen on a cat. He can't stop himself from hissing an accusatory "you!" at it.

Ayal'aran's eyes widen comically, arms bunching up protectively around the cat, while Auree squeaks as she takes a step back and behind the prince.

The cat meows at him innocently. Kaelan seethes--Then there's another higher pitched meow from nearby. Followed by another meow, and another and another.

Dread crawls up Kaelan's back as he finally catches sight of the four little black furballs nestled in a cloth lined basket in Auree's arms.

That. Little. Shit.

-:- MASTERPOST -:-

#aaaaand that's the end of the Nelrindenvane chronicles with Wy the Menace #dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Last session(which can be read in it's entirety Here) we were missing 2 main players, and well. Wy decides to adopt an EGG. The others were not too amused...

Case in point:

So now, my name in the group chat is:

#dnd #out of the abyss #ooc group chat

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Hookey

(campaign excerpt. This was too good to not write down. We were only three players for the session, so DM took us through a small sidequest. Setting: we left Mentlederith with the entire caravan, and are headed to a library somewhere...I'm not quite sure of all the names of places....on our way however...)

-:-

The party is made aware of an argument that erupted by the entrance to an area of interest nearby. Wy doesn't care much for mediation, but Laenor convinces Ezekiel to at the very least try, which leads to Wy getting pulled along, just in case there is a need for his skill set. Durendil and Ally decides to stay at the front of the caravan so as not to leave the position empty.

When the three arrive at the site of the argument. Two heavily eroded statues loom over the group from where they stand on either side of an entrance that looks like it was once ornate. A Deep Gnome expressed that they wanted someone to fireball the tunnels past the two statues as he was sure there had to be treasure in there, but as there seemed to be Gnolls in the area, fire seemed to be the most efficient method of clearing them out. Wy was inclined to agree, until Jayda and some other guy explains that they'd found signs of another type of creature that were probably nesting nearby. While mediation comences, Wy pays the people no mind and finds a small spider scuttling down the foot of one of the statues. He asks it about the place. The spider babbles 'gottaleavethenest! Loud! Bigtwolegs! Fourlegs?! Trampletrample. Four! Six?' before scuttling off into the dark.

Its decided that Ezekiel, Laenor and Wy heads in to clear the Gnoll, and try to locate and restrain the other creatures. Jada and her companion is to join a little bit after, for additional support with the creatures they wanted to protect.

The tunnels are surprisingly lush and green going in, vegetation clinging to the ground and walls. But while the air is damp, showing signs of a water source nearby, the ground is dry. A fire in here would rush out of control fast...Wy thinks as he looks around.

The sound of cackling Gnolls echoes, and Laenor scouts ahead while Wy checks the first side room. He spots the tail end of a Gnoll disappearing around the corner to another tunnel, and notifies Ezekiel of it. Ezekiel runs past Wy and seems to catch it with a spell. Laenor comes rushing back, and follows Ezekiel down the tunnel around the corner joining the fight but the sound of the Gnolls move, so Wy opts for following the sound instead of the others.

Running down the tunnel Laenor first scouted, he follows the sound to a crack in the tunnel wall that is just wide enough for him to squeeze through. On the other side he glimpses a procession of three Gnolls heading away from him. He quickly casts entangle at them, before turning and shouting for the others through the crack in the wall. Grasping weeds and vines sprout from the ground and walls of the tunnel, entangling the three Gnoll. Two of them cut and break themselves out of the plants' grasp, but the closest of the three is too surprised to react and is covered in vines, unable to move. The two who broke free slink around the corner just as Wy hears movement closing in through the crack he came through, followed by the sound of battle breaking out.

Wy squeezes back through the crack only to bump into Jayda and the other dude from outside. He pushes them aside just in time to see the biggest of the two Gnolls from earlier cackling gleefully, readying for another strike. Wy doesn't think, the incantation for Blight comes naturally to him, and the Gnoll screeches as it shrivels and dries up when Wy slaps it away from him. He sees Ezekiel give him a wide eyed look before taking down the other smaller Gnoll.

Informing the others of the third one that's stuck right around the corner, Ezekiel heads for it immediately, Laenor on his heels. Jayda and the man meanwhile disappears through the crack Wy came from, heading further into the tunnels where the sound of more Gnoll is still echoing.

A roar sounds from a female throat. Seems like they found what they were looking for, but judging by the triumphant cackling that accompanies it, the Gnolls found them as well.

Worried, Wy follows through the crack once again. He glances at the entangled area and finds the trapped Gnoll still alive, but struggling. The tail end sparkles of Ezekiel's attack still hangs in the air, so he throws a Frostbite down the tunnel at it as he rushes in the direction of Jayda's voice. Or he would have rushed off after her, but instead does a double take at the Gnoll as it crumples and dies as the frost takes hold. He looks incredulously between his hand and the dead Gnoll for a moment. What the...

While he's distracted, the others find the last of the Gnolls, and the cackles finally, thankfully, fades to silence. When he arrives at the scene, Jayda and the man is busy treating the only surviving hook-armed creature. The second hooked creature already way beyond saving, it's innards strewn across the ground.

Jayda is furious. Disappointed, and sad. She explains that it was a mated pair, and that their nest was probably nearby. Hopefully it hadn't been disturbed, so maybe the eggs were salvageable, if only they could find them.

Laenor runs off to the place he thinks sounds the most likely based on the description Jayda supplies but finds nothing. The group checks everywhere else but finds no nest. Instead, in one of the innermost rooms, they find a pitch black marble and a slime covered musical horn that both make Ezekiel's magic senses tingle. Everything else they find is mostly trash.

Before they leave the tunnel system entirely, Wy decides to check the room Laenor went to check, one last time. Not because he doesn't trust him...no. Actually. Totally because he doesn't trust him to be thorough.

Ezekiel helps, but Wy finds it without much need for assistance. The wall of loose rocks crumbles easily with some prodding, and Wy crawls through. There's a trickle of running water down one of the walls that soaks straight into the ground and on to deeper places in the rock. The greenery is lusher in here, and there's a heightened mound of soft sand and dried out plant matter. Upon some careful digging, Wy unearths 4 whole eggs. They're all warm, and occasionally vibrating. He wraps them in his cloak, using it as a makeshift bag, and crawls back out. He asks the others where they think Jayda wants them, and both Ezekiel and Laenor looks mildly alarmed. They wonder wether they were supposed to disturb the eggs at all.

Jayda arrives, and while she looks alarmed as well when updated on the Situation, takes two of the eggs from Wy to lighten his load, obviously concerned for the eggs' wellbeing.

Laenor and Ezekiel whispers conspiratorially in Drow, so WY tunes them out, concentrating on carrying the precious eggs safely out of there. On the way out Wy asks Jayda if he may keep one of the eggs. Confused as to why he'd want to do that, she eventually just shrugs.

When they get out and reconvene with the deep gnome, Ezekiel hands over everything that wasn't magical to him, much to the gnome's disappointment. He laments it rather loudly, but Wy is not paying attention. He's occupied the most knowledgeable person about the Hooked Horrors, and grilling them on how to care for a Chick as they're heading back to the caravan. They're very confused, but they do give him a thorough breakdown of all the information they have on the beasts. Wy feels it's a bit lacking in the specifics on 'care' but figures he can just go talk to the still surviving adult...teenage? Hooked Horror later when it wakes.

Back at camp, there's more inter-faction drama unfolding, but Wy can't bother with that either, too busy thinking of what needs to be done to keep the egg warm till the Chick hatches. A sling with a pouch is what he settles on.

Just as he's digging out his sewing kit and a few of the spare scraps of fabric from the bag of holding, Ezekiel grabs his elbow and drags him along to sit by the fire with a group from the Obathion Club. The others drink wine and talk and banter and squabble over the smallest things, and looking around Wy gets the feeling of having seen this scene before. The people are different, but the feeling is familiar. Comforting even. The egg is a reassuring weight, radiating warmth where it is cradled between his crossed shins and thoroughly bundled up in his big cape as he begins sewing.

Being surrounded by noise as he is, he doesn't notice it at first, but eventually the vibrations has him checking the egg, and sure enough. There's a crack.

He shoves the sewing project to the side, clamping the needle between his teeth for safekeeping as he pulls his fists up in a show of cheering on the little one silently.

Another crack appears. Then another. Then some more, until finally a piece falls out, and a tiny beak pokes through. Followed by whiskers...and two hooked appendages.

Wy grins down at the ugly little thing.

"Hey there, Hookey."

-:-

(Let's just say the entire party does not appreciate Wy's naming sense. He gives no fucks. Hookey is Babey Name for Hooker. Until Babey is able to decide on its own name, according to Wy. As of now...my chat name in the Chat Group has been updated to HookerDaddy. Idk how to feel about that one 😂😂)

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

Text

Kaelan Makes Progress

-:-Master Post-:-Previous-:-

More days pass, and the suspicious lack of "ghostly" activities continue. It gets quiet to the point where the prevailing rumours move away from ghosts and poltergeists to gossip over Prince Ayal'aran and Auree's budding romance.

Kaelan doesn't quite know what to think of it, but he absolutely won't believe any of it without concrete proof.

As it is, he has other more important things to think about. Like lamenting the sheer amount of time he's been wasting on this endeavor of his that just felt more and more ridiculous as the days passed. What was he even doing these rounds of the castle for anyhow? It had gotten quiet after all.

He spots Miss Auree unsubtly sneaking her way out into the gardens. From his vantage point, a window three floors up, he watches her as she largely ignores the footpaths while carrying her cloth covered basket through the bushes. The tall neck of a bottle pokes out on one end. Suspicious. But well within her right...

Still. She had shown an antagonistic interest in the Rascal, and also Prince Ayal'aran...maybe...?

When she finally slips out of sight, he makes his way down as well, following the trail she made. It's far from difficult.

When he finally does spot her again, she's no longer alone.

The little remote pavilion is nearly overgrown. It's obvious the castle gardeners have had other things on their mind than the upkeep of areas that normally see little use. Yet Ayal'aran seems comfortable where he sits on the vine covered stone bench, the usual cat pressed to his thigh, purring loud enough for Kaelan to hear from his hiding place behind a large rose bush several yards away.

"...next time it's your turn to go to the kitchens, allright? I can't handle the questions alone! It feels like my face is about come off with how hot they get!" Miss Auree is saying.

Ayal'aran chuckles, helping her unload the basket's contents onto the stone table between them. "What kind of questions?"

"You know what kind!"

"I really don't..."

Auree groans. "You know, the teasing kind!"

"Teasing you about what?"

Auree gives him a look. "About you. Little Prince. Dear Fiancé. Are you really saying they don't tease you AT ALL?" Whatever look Ayal'aran is giving the girl, it must be unsatisfactory, as she nearly shrieks with frustration. "That's it. Next time, and every other time after that, it'll be YOUR job to get the food and drinks! I'll handle the--the Cat!" She declares.

"Is that really necessary? I'm sure they'll stop doing that eventually if you just keep at it." Ayal manages through giggles, then hurriedly ducks out of the way of the pillow aimed at his face.

Huh. Maybe the rumours of the two finally hitting it off well were founded in truth after all.

Kaelan is about to turn away to give the budding couple some privacy when his eyes catches something that makes him do a double take.

One moment the cat is there. The next it's shape is rapidly expanding into an infuriatingly familiar mop of bushy haired teenager who takes more space than the stone bench can hold. With an undignified yelp the boy tips off the bench, followed by a groan accompanying the thud as he lands.

Auree snorts a most undignified laugh.

Ayal'aran coughs his own behind a palm. "Are you allright, Wy?" He asks.

The boy huffs back at him, unamused.

"Well, now that you're awake, how about lunch?" Auree suggests, as if the cat turning into Wy is a normal occurrence.

But of course it is. To her. Druid alcove. The conniving little liar was a Druid. It explained everything. Why the little shit was so difficult to catch. How he'd disappear so easily.

All the instances where he'd personally interacted with that black cat comes to mind as well as he watches the three chatter amicably over the food, and he can feel the rage bubble to the surface. He turns on his heel and stalks away to cool off before he finds himself doing something exceedingly stupid.

-:-

Wy Talks

-:-

"Are you alright?" Ilira asks as she happens upon a thoroughly aggravated Kaelan heaving a sigh.

"Just. Fine." Kaelan grits out as he massages his temples. "The last few weeks have been a bit...rough. That's all." Not to mention the absolute exploding fireball of a reveal he'd witnessed earlier.

"So I've heard." Ilira comments lightly. "I'm not usually privy to the servants' rumour mill, but even I have heard a few. Why, my personal maid even waxed poetic about your ghost exterminating prowess. That howling ghost down the hall from the library disappeared rather fast after you went to take a look."

Kaelan's eyebrow twitches. He's known her for long enough to know what face she makes when she's holding back laughter, and that is just the face she's making.

"I'm glad..." He has to pause to rearrange his face out of a sneer. "...amusement to the Princess." He grumbles eventually.

She hums in agreement. "Well, don't let your...exploits distract you from your normal duties, Captain Kaelan." She tuts teasingly as she walks past him towards the throne room.

He crosses his arms at her receding back.

Normal duties...

-:-

He's still thinking hard when the Cat comes circling his shins later the same day, for the first time in nearly a week. Unbeknownst to Kaelan, Wy has finally gotten some things off his chest, and is thus itching to reinitiate the shenanigans. Kaelan on his part is so off kilter he impulsively grabs the Cat by the scruff of its neck, raising it to eye height to scowl into confused gold slitted eyes.

"You." He nearly hisses.

The Cat yowls pitifully at him.

"Don't you even try that with me now." He sneers. "I know exactly what you are, and you are a Menace. You might as well just drop the act, right now, as I have Finally. Caught. You. And this time you're not getting away."

Just as the Cat mrrps indignantly, Kaelan finally notices the red haired servant watching him with eyes as big as saucers. Frozen in her confusion as to what in the world has come over the usually uptight Captain, she presses the laundry basket in her hands to her chest with a squeak when their eyes meet.

"D-don't mind me, Master Kaelan. I-I'll just--" She begins, then scampers off down the hall. A few pieces of laundry jostles out of the basket in her haste, and she nearly trips in her attempt at picking them up speedily, but she does disappear from sight in the end, flustered out of her mind.

Kaelan returns his attention to the Cat, who is...pouting up at him? He narrows his eyes at it.

"Allright. Time to turn back boy. We need to talk."

The Cat considers it for a moment, then suddenly he's got a hand full of fabric instead of fur, and a very tall teenager meeting his ireful stare with a carefully neutral one of his own.

A tense silence stretches as the two try to negotiate the terms of this conversation with eyes alone. Then Wy shrugs. "I won't run. You caught me. Rules are rules."

Kaelan almost sneers as he lets go of the Menace's shirt a bit more violently than probably necessary. "Oh, so you have rules you follow. Would be great if you informed everyone else of them?"

"But that's no fun, Mister Guard Captain Sir. Half of the fun lies in you figuring out the rules."

"Is this a game to you?" Kaelan has to make a concerted effort to not deck the boy.

Wy eyes Kaelan's white knuckles, face still infuriatingly neutral. "Obviously."

Dragging in a deep shaky breath in an effort to put a lid on his building anger, Kaelan turns on his heel, letting his gaze skim down the empty hallway. Then something occurs to him, and he whirls back around again.

Wy blinks leisurely at him, still in the same spot as before. "Oh. You thought I'd run?" He glances over his shoulder as he points his thumb down the hallway the other way. "I will if you're done."

"I'm not done." If he spits the words a bit too fast, he's way beyond caring. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are bored. Yes? That is why you've been doing--" Kaelan waves his hand in Wy's general direction, "all this."

Wy pouts thoughtfully, then nods. "Pretty much."

"So as long as you are not bored you'll stop being a menace to the servants."

The boy takes another moment to think, then shrugs again. "I mean. If you catch me, maaaaybe I'll stop. For the day."

Kaelan has to turn around again so as to not grab the boy and shake him. "What--hey, where do you think you're going!? I'm not done with you!"

"But I'm done with you!" Wy shouts over his shoulder as he jumps onto the windowsill of an open window.

"We're four floors up!"

Wy flashes him a grin as he makes a show of falling out of the window. Kaelan's string of curses are drowned out by the sound of howling wind and flapping wings.

-:-Next-:-

#dnd #out of the abyss #oc #wy: the written saga #finally some funny 😂😂 I think #I find this funny at least #Idk about you guys

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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So. Wy got dumped in the Dark Lake last session, thus this session started with him having to get OUT of the lake in one piece. And so, since the resident Wizard player was on their way to join us, we had to keep them updated on how it was going....

Let's just say that I miiight have gotten a bit too much enjoyment out of making everyone sweat 😇😇

I'll be writing out the Dramatization of the events that happened...at a later date x) there will be illustrations.

#dnd #out of the abyss #ooc group chat

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Wy Talks

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Wy glances between Ayal and Auree, a reluctant set to his brows. Their stares are open and curious, but not prying, and you know, you really should get better at confiding in other people Wy. It's not good for you to bottle everything up inside. Arryn's words rings inside his head. He pulls a steadying breath, and considers where to start.

"My earliest clear memory...is from the Hag--Miss Candy's Orphanage. She taught me everything I know about stealing. Surviving on the streets of Goodhaven...how to take care of the other kids...I...I considered her my...my mother even. She was everyone's mom." Wy studies his fingertips, rubbing at the callouses only a thief will develop. "...still, sometimes I'd remember things that...I could only place as events or instances from earlier than the orphanage...and as I grew older, those memories started making less and less sense when set up against the things I had been told were absolute truths growing up. Eventually I worked up the courage to ask the Hag about it..."

"My real parents," Wy begins.

Miss Candy raises an eyebrow at him. "Didn't want you." She finishes for him matter-of-factly.

"You told me they were dead." Wy grits his teeth. "But I don't remember seeing them dead. Or dying."

She waves his words away. "Your brain probably erased that memory for you. Trauma can do that."

"Bullshit. I've never displayed any of the signs."

"What signs?"

"The trauma signs. I've handled and raised enough kids now to recognize the behaviour. I don't have any."

Miss Candy huffs, crossing her arms as a bored look settles on her face. "What is this about Whiny?"

"My parents didn't die. You stole me. Kidnapped me."

Miss Candy snorts hard enough for her hair to fall into her face. "Did it really take over a decade for you to figure that out?"

"So you did." The knot in Wy's stomach tightens to the point where he has to curl his fist into his shirt to keep whimpers from spilling past his lips.

"You weren't complaining then. You even came with me willingly." The smug smile she's wearing nauseates him.

"I was what. Three--" he forces past the bile in his throat.

She sighs. "Whiny--"

"--I didn't know any better! How could I? I must have been barely a child; a toddler!" The silence stretches for a moment. Then two. Wy doesn't dare meet Miss Candy's eyes. Doesn't know why except that he's terrified of what he'll find there if he looks. When Wy continues speaking it's quiet and downcast. "I'm just a commodity to you ain't I. Always have been. So are all the other kids. A source of--of profit."

"Wy." Candy's tone turns sharp. Warning.

"THAT IS NOT MY NAME." Wy nearly thunders, eyes burning. He can't remember ever having been this loud before. "Do you even remember what my real name is?" Wy rasps as he struggles to catch his breath, still incapable of raising his gaze further than Miss Candy's whiteknuckled hands fisted in her skirts. They're trembling. "Because I don't." His voice breaks, and he runs out of the room.

He tells them the story of him running away from the orphanage after that incident. Just grabbing the bare essentials and nothing else. Running and running till he could run no more. How he absolutely never intended to ever go back, nor ever meet the Hag again. How confusing it was to inadvertently find himself in her company in the underdark of all places, having been kidnapped for the second time in his life. Yet at the same time, she'd been a steadying presence while down there.

And as he talks, he realizes that he'd actually missed her. That he still missed her, now that she'd left again.

The brawl before she and Anabelle left had been a mirror of how she had taught him various skills as a child; he'd known this the moment she didn't kick him while he was down blinded. She had obviously not been serious about grievously hurting him; the lack of broken bones and knife wounds in the aftermath were proof enough of that.

That...and that she still considered him one of her Children. Even if she didn't say it out loud. All of this he'd never really had coherent thoughts about before, too busy avoiding anything and everything that made him uncomfortable.

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #wy: the written saga #Sure gave myself a suckerpunch right in the feels #i seem rather good at that

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Wy at Campaign Start

Since I did a Kid!Wy recently and inadvertently changed his design a bit...the initial design sketch didn't fit my mental image of him anymore, so here we are.

Might clean this up later...we'll see

#dnd #oc #out of the abyss #art #stuck at a play park for kids birthday #gotta have something to do #but I forgot pencilsharpener....and also pen.#so this looks messier than usual...bc i had to use very not sharp colouring pencils....#maybe I'll get around to cleaning this mess up when I get home...#i'm happy w the pose tho <3

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Wy Is Bad At Words

Wy doesn't quite know what to do with himself when a petite blue eyed and blonde elf strides up to him right outside the open doors to the dining hall after breakfast one morning, glaring through her stutter, and demanding he stop messing around with the poor servants. He catches Ayal's wide eyes from his seat at the table who promptly looks away and focuses on his food instead, acting like nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Good. He's learning.

Laenor also looks severely interested too for some reason. Wy feels Amreth's eyes on him as well, doubly so when the unmistakeable strides of Kaelan also slows to a stop nearby. Well then.

Wy purses his lips. "No." He says quietly.

"No?" The girl blinks. Was that really such a surprising reply to her demand? "Why!?"

Wy shrugs at the girl and is already inching away from her, making sure Kaelan is on the other side of her so that he'll have to walk past her to get to Wy if he wants to pursue.

"Are you going to answer me?"

"No."

"Why? Is it really that difficult to be nicer to people?"

"I'm plenty nice to people."

"Stealing isn't nice!"

Wy snorts. "It's called borrowing."

The girl pulls out a small white cloth from a pocket and waves it distractingly in his face. "Then what is this? Isn't it stealing if it never gets returned?"

At that Wy eyes it closer and-- "Ah! That one! I've been looking for that!" He snatches after it, but the girl jerks it out of the way...and impressively manages to keep it out of Wy's quick hands. Well. Hand. His other is occupied by a certain sword. Wy scowls. This little...Princess.

"Fine. Then you return it. Then it won't be stolen no more." Wy eventually huffs.

"No! You stole it! You do it!"

"Then give it to me!" Wy growls as he attempts to grab the cloth one last time, and again, the girl miraculously keeps it just out of reach.

"No! You're untrustworthy!" She shouts in his face.

Someone clears their throat nearby. "If I may, Miss Auree." Kaelan interjects the strange dance the two is doing in the hall. "...Wy." He continues after a conspicuous pause. "This seems like a dispute that can easily be solved by you both returning the...item. Together. As of now it's still a stolen item."

The girl, Auree apparently, gasps and drops the offending cloth at that. Wy, seeing his opportunity, snatches it out of the air, and bounds off down the hall. He can hear laughter emerging from the dining hall that sounds a lot like Laenor and rapid fire curses sneered after him as a pair of feet that he's pretty sure is Kaelan takes up the chase. It takes rushing straight through several rooms, jumping out a window, and sneaking from bush to bush in the gardens for a while before Wy finally manages to loose Kaelan off his tail.

He eventually settles down for a breather out of sight, up in the rafters of one of the pavilions dotting the Royal Gardens.

"That was very eloquent of you." A voice quips at him when the faint sound of busy bees is the only other companion.

"Elo...what?"

"...Nevermind." Sarith mutters after a lengthy pause.

Wy adjusts his perch, balancing the sword across two of the beams. "No, what was that word?”

"...eloquent."

"It's the word for...using a lot of words? Or knowing a lot of words? Right?"

"...Right."

"El-elo...uh."

"...Q'nt. Elo-q'nt."

"Eloquent."

"Yes."

"Strange word. Kinda unnecessary."

"For you."

"Yeah." Wy says slowly. "I never needed many words. The Hag always said I wasn't good at them. I had other talents, and actions always spoke louder than words..."

Sarith is quiet.

"But I guess words is the only thing you have left. So, no wonder you're so wordy, huh."

There's the sound of an affronted scoff. "Tactful as always."

Wy tilts his head inquisitively, then realization hits him. Was that maybe rude to say?

"However." Sarith continues after a short pause. "You're not wrong. The thought has struck me that if I keep quiet, it is as if I don't exist."

Wy's fingers tighten around the scabbard, frowning. That didn't sound right. "Then keep talking to more people. As long as there's someone who remembers you're in there, you'll still be there even if you do stop talking."

"I don't think having me talk to dozens of random guards and servants from the shadows will make them remember me as a person, boy…"

Wy snickers. "Yeah, no that's not the point either."

"And the point is?"

"Killing boredom."

-:- NEXT -:-

#dnd #out of the abyss #oc #wy: the written saga #this boi...#he tries but he's not very adept at words #he's not very well versed socially either 😂🙈#like...that's probably one of the worst things you could say to someone stuck in a sword #i still love him your honor

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Wy: age...10?

He was a cutie. Skilled thief, but definitely a troublemaker <3

#dnd #out of the abyss #oc #art

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wythedumpstercat · 2 years

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Auree's Assumptions

Father had told her to try to befriend Prince Ayal'aran. Easier said than done when Auree barely knew if she wanted to or not. Outward he seemed like the quiet, intellectual type; a refined gentleman for a lack of better words. Considering his close friendship with the tall barbarian menace however, along with the flashes of him she'd gleaned from her accidental readings of both the prince and the menace, Auree wasn't quite sure what to think.

Adding on this engagement thing, and she really was rather disinclined to approach him. She knew their betrothal was but a political tool, her feelings entirely irrelevant to the equation. It rankled, honestly, but what could she even do? Absolutely nothing that would endanger this tentative agreement is what.

Sighing to herself she steps out into the gardens for some fresh air, and hopefully some new perspectives or something or--There was Ayal'aran walking leisurely in her direction, carrying a pair of books in his arms.

If Auree curses the single curse word she knows, no one hears it as she turns on her heel and hides behind the door she was about to exit. Peeking through the little crack she left open she finds that he hadn't noticed her presence at all, all too absorbed in reading something lying on top of his books.

Out of curiosity she keeps watching him through the crack, paying special attention when Wy sneaks up behind him and settles a single vibrantly yellow rose in Ayal's hair right over his ear. Ayal gives a start, turns, and his shoulders relaxes. No, his entire posture does. Auree can't see his face, but she can see Wy's face, and there's open fondness on his face, his eyes seemingly never leaving Ayal's, even as he shrugs and grins to whatever Ayal is saying. Ayal is motioning to the rest of the small bouquet of flowers in Wy's hands. Wy responds with perplexity, then fluster as Ayal takes Wy's hand in his and drags him along somewhere, balancing his books with his other.

Auree is of a mind to follow them, but has no confidence in herself that she'll manage it without being discovered.

-:-

A bit later in the day she overhears some servants talking about the gardeners being distraught as several rose bushes and other flowerbeds had been mysteriously massacred yet again. No culprits had been found, but it had to be that...that...no, they didn't dare say it, for fear of invoking Prince Amreth's wrath. Or worse, Prince Ayal'aran's disappointment. Badmouthing their new...friend. This phrase never came without a wince.

Auree wondered if the search for the culprits had been done at all, as she found them laughably easily(accidentally). In a corner of the gardens, at one of the seemingly less used pavilions surrounded by tall hedges, she stumbles over the two, knees touching as they're sitting crosslegged on the ground braiding the flowers? She watches them for a while from around the edge of the hedge.

"Yes, now, take the other stem, and move it across..."

"Repeating it won't make it make any more sense." Wy grumbles. Ayal sniggers. He watches Wy struggle a bit more before lifting his finished wreath and settling it softly in Wy's curls. Wy nearly goes crosseyed trying to see it. When he gives up that, his eyes catch Auree's and Auree can feel the air chill.

"You...." Wy's eyes narrows at her. Ayal looks up at Wy at that, turns to see what's taken Wy's attention and freezes upon spotting Auree as well.

The silence that descends is stifling, and Auree debates whether it'd be best if she just ran. Wy seems to have other plans however. He glances between her and Ayal and seems to get an idea. He gestures for her to come over, and for some inexplicable reason Auree hesitantly does. When she's close enough for Wy to not need to shout at her, Wy bafflingly asks, "you know how to braid?"

Auree stutters an affirmative, wide eyes flittering between the other two. Ayal looks about as confused as she feels. It's almost comforting.

"Could you braid these into his hair?" Auree doesn't think her eyes can possibly get any wider. The little bouquet of flowers Wy is holding up at her stares back at her accusatorily. What.

"Why?"

Wy looks at her blankly. "Because it would look nice on him, and I can't braid for shit." He lifts what has to be his attempt at braiding a flower wreath to illustrate. "Why else?"

Auree is confounded to the point where she doesn't even have the mind to ask any more questions and just does as she's been asked, holding her hand out for the flowers. Ayal side-eyes her for a moment, face carefully neutral, then nods in assent as he turns to present her his hair to be braided.

As Auree sets about gathering strands of Ayal's auburn hair, Wy continues his disastrous attempt at a wreath.

Auree can feel Ayal suppressing what she interprets as shivers, so she takes care not to touch his scalp more than absolutely necessary. Turns out however, that it was just Ayal suppressing laughter, as he eventually let's out an amused snigger. "You are surprisingly horrible at doing this kind thing," Ayal gestures to the crooked flower wreath falling apart in Wy's hands, "especially considering what you do for sport."

Wy pouts hard enough to look like a squirrel with it's cheeks full of nuts. "It's only sport here. Out there it's serious business."

"What do you mean? Sport? Business? You talk as if stealing is a legitimate--” Auree begins remarking, horrified.

Wy raises an eyebrow at her. "I can't very well actually steal from the people here. They're loyal subjects." Uncertainty blooms on his face and he leans towards Ayal, lowering his voice. "That is the right wording...right...?" Ayal coughs to hide a giggle as he nods, the movement small enough to not disturb Auree's braiding.

"Anyway. Ayal would be disappointed. Amreth too for that matter." He tacks on at the end as an afterthought.

"You're saying if they weren't loyal subjects you'd be stealing them dry?"

"I'm a pickpocket. Nobody walks around with their entire fortune in a single pocket. Nobody with any street smarts at least. And anyway, I only take one thing from each target." A sense of pride emanates from him as he says it. "And never from anyone who looks like they live in squalor."

Her hands are forced to follow Ayal's head around as he turns to look at her, curious for her reaction. She gives him an incredulous look that says 'this is the company you keep?'

He shrugs, but the amused smile tugging at his lips rats him out.

Conversation flows more easily from there, and Auree leaves with a warm feeling when she finally heads back to her father's afternoon lessons, a delicate wreath of pink and white flowers adorning her head.

-:-

Auree accidentally witnesses Wy's fight with the Pink Lady through the story of said Pink Lady mere hours after it's happened, the emotions so strong she spends a good while just hiccuping through tears. When her tears dry up, she scours the castle for him, worried, but he doesn't turn up anywhere. The servants, and even the guards, are unable to help her. When she asks Kaelan if he's seen Wy, he looks constipated and grits out a negative.

"I would much like to know where that...boy...is as well, Miss Auree."

The castle is eerily quiet the next two days, all the inexplicable things that fed the ghost rumours, keeping it all abuzz having inexplicably died down. The workers of the castle finally breathing more easily, no longer constantly looking over their shoulders after a silent mischief maker.

She spots Ayal'aran several times, but he's always too busy to talk to, his face set in a worried frown. He's rarely ever seen without that little black cat on his person as well; sometimes cradled in his arms on top of his books, other times resting around his shoulders or on his thighs.

When she finally finds a chance to speak to him he's reading by himself on a comfortable looking couch in the library, the cat curled up on his lap.

"Hey--" she begins and then nearly screams as the cat is suddenly a bushy haired teen; head resting where the cat used to be, forehead pressed into Ayal's waist, and the rest of him sprawled out over the rest of the couch.

Ayal'aran puts a finger to his lips as he holds her eyes with a serious expression. "Let him sleep." He whispers, so low that Auree reads his lips more than she actually hears him speaking.

Auree bites her lip. "Is he alright?" She whispers back.

Ayal glances down at Wy, frowning, leaning the open book on the armrest. "I don't know. He won't speak to me about...whatever it is."

"He was in a fight." Ayal gives her a questioning look, prompting her to continue. "With this pink lady. I...don't quite understand their connection, but that fight meant a lot to her, and I can only assume it did for him too." She gestures to Wy.

As she's speaking, Ayal's free hand settles lightly at Wy's neck, fingers drawing small circles into his hairline. The action hits Auree as exceptionally intimate, she's almost unsure as to whether she should be privy to it.

"That...makes sense. Wy did mention that she...was his adoptive mother...they aren't on the best of terms but…" Ayal murmurs. "Though...I'm sure he'll be fine after a few days of processing. Thank you for worrying so about him. I'm sure he appreciates it." The smile she gets is the most vibrant one yet, rendering her somewhat speechless.

Finding no more reason to stay, she leaves the two in the library, mind whirling like a maelstrom. Their closeness was so enviable she barely knew what to feel. Not that she wanted that kind of closeness with either of them for herself, just that she wanted something like that for herself in the future as well. That probably wasn't in the cards for her however, she was betrothed to Ayal'aran after all. There would be no--

Oh.

Oh no.

The uneasiness she had been carrying around suddenly made sense.

Of course Ayal'aran never showed any interest in her. If not for Wy including her in their conversations and allowing her meddling in their shenanigans, Ayal'aran would never even look at her unless he was curious about her reactions to Wy's antics. He seemed more than content cuddling Wy regardless of what form he was in as well. Everything he did seemed to center around Wy.

Ayal'aran...and Wy...were sweethearts. Ayal'aran probably wasn't even interested in girls. It explained everything.

Auree stumbles in behind a curtain to hide serself from view. Best not alert the servants to her plight.

She didn't blame the prince for avoiding her initially. She would have too if she was in his position. The reality of it all weighs on her like a mountain and she sobs for the loveless marriage she's being forced into. For being a wedge in Ayal and Wy's happiness purely by existing. For the absolute lack of anything she can do to make it all better. It's all too much.

-:-

When Kaelan later makes his way around to the corridor where several servants had reported hearing sobbing noises, scared out of their minds that it was a new kind of ghost roaming the hallways, he finds nothing. He feels his headache worsening. There was no way the rumor mill wouldn't latch onto this new ghost with a vengeance, especially now that there was a lull in the other more 'known' ghosts' activities.

-:-

Meanwhile, back in the library, Ayal finishes his book. Wy is still sleeping soundly, and Ayal finds he doesn't want to wake him prematurely. Seeing Wy in such low spirits the last few days has had his heart aching for him. Having heard the circumstances from Auree earlier had explained much, but nothing of how to alleviate the turbulent emotions Wy seemed to be doing his absolute best to avoid dealing with by any means necessary, even to the point of staying in his cat form for as long as he absolutely could extend the transformation time. Sleeping seemed to be one of his escapes as well, him falling asleep while transformed and popping back into human form earlier not even the first time it had happened.

As he's still debating whether he'll be able to grab the cushion from the other end of the couch so that he can make an attempt at getting another book to read, Auree peeks her blonde head around the nearest shelf again. Her eyes are still a bit puffy, but her face is set with determination. Ayal nods at her in silent greeting. She steps closer at that, and gingerly settles down on the other end of the couch, careful not touching Wy's sleeping form. Her eyes zero in on Wy's head, and Ayal is suddenly acutely aware of his hand still petting the soft curls.

Collecting herself a bit, Auree bites her lip. "I...I thought it best we talked." She says, near a whisper. Ayal appreciates her conscientiousness.

"About?"

"W-well, I...We're betrothed. So. Well. It'd be best if we managed to communicate well with eachother, no? Like adults."

Ayal just nods, not quite sure where this is leading.

"I've been thinking a lot and...and marriage is really just...just a t-title. Especially ours. More a formality to make the agreement between our two nations binding, so I don't expect you to come to love me. Of course I would like for us to at the very least become friends, if nothing else. However, I won't be expecting any more of you than that, so...so please don't think I wish to be a-a hindrance to your happiness. Don't feel like you need to hide it from me either. I-I support you, both of you, all the way. Even after we formally get married. Though I hope you will award me the same freedom. Alright?" She finishes in a rush, eyes wide as saucers.

That...was a lot to unpack, and Ayal just nods mutely as he's still processing it all. Auree takes it as an affirmation, pulling a much needed relieved breath. She pats her skirts and gets to her feet, seemingly feeling much lighter than when she came in.

"Thank you for listening." She murmurs, and Ayal realises that this must be the first time he's really seen her smile since she got to Nelrindenvane; she actually is kind of pretty too. She's gone before he gets to work out a single word in reply.

Wy nuzzles closer in his sleep and it tickles, distracting him a bit from his train of thought. But then--

Wait. Did Auree just--?? Ayal's eyes widen, and a blush rises till steam is coming out of his ears. Oh. Oh no. Oh shit.

#dnd #out of the abyss #oc #wy: the written saga #Ayal: Kitty should be petted doesn't matter what form he's in #Auree: is...is he cuddling him!?#Wy: Hm...this is nice. I guess Friends also do Sibling things like this <3 #they're all idiots your honor and I love them to bits

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