(47) A Flurry of Blows
Platick Fortuna’s POV
Sister Garaele’s House
An Hour and a Half Ago
“Mind giving us a few minutes to ask her a few questions?”
“Mmm. I don’t know,” Piper hummed. Last night, one of the villagers, a midwife named Piper, stayed overnight to watch Sister Garaele. With the priestess recovering, Piper was the closest thing to a nurse.
“Piper,” Sister Garaele spoke softly. “As I‘ve told you before, I’m fine. I appreciate the concern from you and everybody else, but my wound is healed. It doesn’t even hurt. I think I can handle giving our visitors a few words in private.”
Piper sighed. “Alright, fine. I’ll give you some space. But that wound is still tender! And who knows if it healed everything inside. Take it easy, okay?”
At that, Piper left me and Stostine with the priestess alone. And once we heard the front door close soon after, Sister Garaele gave us a guilty look. “Sorry. She wasn’t accusing you or anything. She’s just worried.”
“It’s fine.” I nodded. “But we don’t have that much time. We just wanted to see if you remembered much from last night. I don’t even remember you stepping inside.”
At that, the priestess frowned. “Well, that’s actually something I wanted to ask about.” Sister Garaele reached out and took Stostine’s robes and severed sleeve. She was happy to mend them as she spoke. “Leanne's shop is in view of my house, you see. But, I saw you go inside with Leanne but never come out. When the thunderclaps rang out, I was worried something had happened for you not to join your friends.”
“You went to check?” Stostine asked. “We gave out curfew notices to the whole town saying—” “I know. I know. It was stupid,” she cut in. “But, given everything, it’s just that...I-I thought that—well. There’s been this...odd feeling. Y’know?”
“About Leanne,” I filled in. Sister Garaele’s focus on the Mending spell waned.
“Yes,” she hummed. “Things have been weird with her for a few months now. Ever since those Redbrands went in to buy out her crossbows, I’d ask about it and she’d be upset. Supportive, even, like always. But only when people came to her. I thought she blamed herself for selling those thugs weapons, but then she barely showed any sympathy when the other townsfolk were extorted. She started to close herself off.”
It reduced interaction to a minimum, I realized. “Sister. Was Leanne close with you? Your best friend, or something?”
“Or something?” Stostine gave me a neutral look while folding her arms across her sleeveless tunic. I rolled my eyes and ignored her.
“She was the first person who accepted me when I moved here,” Sister Garaele told us as her Mending spell started to flicker back to life. We watched Stostine’s sleeve fuse itself back to the robe proper. “That was about four years ago now. Since then, we’ve never left each other’s side. Which made it all the odder when she instantly latched onto you.”
“Is he not Leanne’s type?” Stostine tried to joke, making me glare.
“Oh no. He definitely is,” Sister Garaele admitted, making me tense up. Why do I feel like this is only to mess with me? “But Leanne’s not that brazen. Especially after just one day. That coupled with the attack made me nervous enough to check on her and then...well..."
Sister Garaele fiddled with Stostine’s robe for a moment. She examined the robe and tugged on the sleeve. It was fixed, but she was spending too long checking it.
“You suspected her.” I regained my focus and watched her. “Sister Garaele, you were stabbed last night when you went to the Griffonbound Vendors. But none of the villagers seem upset at Leanne. We didn’t talk to them. Did you?”
Sister Garaele didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she reached over to a bedside table drawer and pulled out a small sewing kit. “I told them a Redbrand stabbed me.”
“And what actually happened?”
“...It was Leanne.” The priestess’s eyes went empty as she said that. “Her face, her hand, her emergency knife. I know what I saw, but...there’s no way. She didn’t even hesitate. One stab and then she ran.”
I looked over to Stostine. By now, I told the group about the doppelganger. But we all agreed not to tell the townsfolk until we killed it. Maybe not even then. Otherwise, it would incite a panic.
“But.” Sister Garaele’s brow furrowed. “That can’t have been right. There’s no way. Leanne wouldn’t do that to me. She would never. Right?” She looked up at Stostine. Then at me. “I’m her friend! She wouldn’t try to hurt me. She wouldn’t! It doesn’t make sense!”
Stostine bit her lip. We all agreed, and she knew that a rumor would spread like a plague in a town this small. So, she looked at me.
I looked right back. Then at Sister Garaele. They were both deferring to me. “...No. No, she didn’t.” Sister Garaele didn’t seem too shocked. More just desperate for a reason. “That wasn’t Leanne that stabbed you.”
Sister Garaele stared at me. “How? I know what I saw. I know Leanne’s face and I didn’t lose that much blood. So then, what did I see?”
“An imposter,” I told her. “An imposter that made a fool out of me. Now, maybe this won't make you feel any better. It’ll probably make you feel worse. But that hasn’t been Leanne for a while now. The real Leanne’s been missing. What you saw was a shapeshifter.”
“Platick,” Stostine stared at me. “I am on board with telling her it was not Leanne, but not everything. We had an agreement. You are the one who asked us to—” “Asked all of you. Not myself,” I corrected her. Stostine took my words and stewed on them quietly.
“A shapeshifter?” Sister Garaele paused. “...Since when? Are. Is it with the Redbrands?”
I closed my eyes, tasting the words I was about to say. I hated them. I made peace with how much Stostine, and even more so Glemerr, were going to mock me for this. Then I stared Sister Garaele down.
“I’m going to find that out,” I told her. “And when I have your answer, I’ll tell you. But until then, no telling anyone what’s going on. We don’t want them to drag Leanne’s name into the mud on a misunderstanding. Trust me. No one deserves to be judged on lies and false truths.”
The priestess considered it for a moment before understanding dawned in her eyes. Whether it was about me or doppelgangers, it didn’t matter. She was on board. “I understand. I can keep a secret.”
“Good.” I stood up, catching an amused look from Stostine. “Quiet you.” I looked back to the priestess. “In the meantime, only let that midwife back in here. That thing has no reason to come after you, but don’t take any more stupid chances. We should be back in a few hours.”
“Wait.” Sister Garaele passed back Stostine’s robes, which she instantly began putting back on overtop her clothes. “You’re going now? What about all those wounds you took? Some of those were fatal.”
“And you fixed that. So thanks,” I told her. “It still aches and I’m pretty sure the bandages will be fun targets for those maniacs. But I’ll manage.”
“Not to mention, Glemerr and Rava will be with us,” Stostine reassured her. “They will keep us safe. I promise.”
“Still." Garaele reached for her nightstand again, replacing her sewing kit with this large gold medallion. “If you’re all going up there, I won’t stop you. But, if you want, I think there might be something I can do for you, Platick. If you’re up for it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So long as you stay here. But, alright. What did you have in mind?”
Forest Trail, Towards Hunting Lodge
Present
I ended up agreeing to Sister Garaele’s offer. It took a little over an hour for her to set things up, but afterward, I was left with that medallion of Tymora as a ‘good luck charm’ for whatever we dealt with. Not long after, I found the others waiting for me at the base of the hill to start marching up to the hunting lodge.
Whatever that priestess did, I didn’t have a full understanding of it. I barely understood arcane magic so divine magic was even more miraculous to me. Especially when it had no visible effects. What I did understand was that Sister Garaele gave me this sentimental trinket and told me that she wanted me to keep it for her.
It felt like Rava’s ring all over again. Or the rapier. Another valuable item with even more sentimental worth stuck to it. All that did was make me fixated on where it was on my person. I tried keeping it in a pocket or my pack, but that just made me paranoid that it would fall out like Rava’s ring did. At least when I kept it in my hand I had an eye on it. But now it was the only thing I was staring at for whatever reason.
“Whenever good fortune can aid in my trials,” I muttered to myself. It was the part of Sister Garaele’s prayer that was most stuck in my head.
“Oi, Platick,” Ricven called out, snapping me out of my gaze. “Ya gonna keep starin’ at that thang the whole time, or are you gonna clue us in on what the plan is?”
“Plan?” I looked up and saw it wasn’t just him. Most of the others were staring back at me. The only ones who weren’t were Vareén, who was taking point and ducking from tree to tree, and Thorn Wielder. Who was, at present, an auburn wolf following Vareén’s shadow.
“Uh, yeah?” Ricven rolled his eyes. “Yer the one who kept sayin’ we needed ta follow yer plans if we were gonna have a chance. So maybe now’s a good time ta fill us in?”
“He’s gotta point,” Glemerr told me, turning around herself. “Ah’m all fer thrashin’ a gang at dere hidey-hole, but Ah’m up fer any plan ya got ta make it better.”
I stared back at Glemerr. When none of the other’s attention was on her, she gave me this cheeky grin. Right. The whole leader thing.
I glanced back down at the medallion, turning it over in my hand before forcing myself to put it somewhere I wouldn’t accidentally lose it. “Alright, fine. However, it more depends on how much you trust that one Redbrand on their layout, Ricven.”
“Aw please.” Ricven chuckled. “After how much that fool told us yesterday, he was more than happy ta spill whatever else we wanted. Didn’t even need ta charm ‘em this time. Just promise that we’d keep him safe from his cellmates.”
Reasonable request, I thought. “In that case, listen up,” I told them. Vareén kept a lookout ten feet ahead while everybody’s focus stayed on me. “With what Thorn Wielder saw in the forest yesterday, and what the bandit confirmed, there’s two entrances to the basement. The lodge itself and a back entrance. They’ll likely be guarding both. So while their forces are split, we’ll focus on the lodge entrance entirely.”
“Would that not be more expected?” Stostine asked with a frown. “It is their main entrance.”
“It’s one of only two options,” I reminded her. “And Riven’s bandit says the bugbears and goblins sleep downstairs. If the human bandits are split, then that means the tunnel entrance will be tougher. Especially since it’ll be a chokepoint for them. If they catch us there, it might end up as a reverse of the bar fight.”
Stostine still didn’t agree. “And the same cannot be said for the lodge’s front doors?”
“Which would you prefer? A tightly packed tunnel where the only options are forward or backward? Or a door where we can step to the side if they have a firing squad?”
“He’s gotta point, lass,” Rava told her. “One a’ the reasons Cragen’s so well defended is because of location. Hard ta march a massive force when ya gotta fit them massive armies in wee tunnels maintained by Dwarves.”
“Alright, I concede.” Stostine tucked her arms into her newly fixed sleeves and looked forward. “Either way, this is still going to be difficult. And we cannot stop halfway. If we do, the necromancer may take that chance to escape when he sees the carnage. If he has not already.”
“If he did, the Redflakes would have skipped town too,” Vareén chipped in. “Which would be a little difficult for an entire town on watch to miss.” Thorn nodded along in agreement.
“We prepare for the worst,” I told them. “Expect something short of twenty bandits and maybe five or so bugbears and a pack of goblins. Then the fissure demon, the necromancer, and his pets.”
“So about fifty combatants,” Ricven counted out. “Well. Least we had a good breakfast ‘fore we kick the robin’s nest.”
“Hornet,” Vareén corrected.
“Now that’s the dumbest animal ya coulda used. Hornets ain’t even red.” Ricven didn’t even bother to look Vareén in the eye as he stood by his idiocy. A shame. I would’ve loved to see his reaction as Vareén aimed an arrow at his face with this look of death on her.
I sighed, shook my head at her, and she begrudgingly obeyed. “Look. What we do isn’t going to be as detailed as the ambush. We just need to take everything in steps. And step one is taking the lodge proper and holding it.”
“So den...Operation Door Kickah?” Glemerr offered, giving me and the others this toothy grin. While the others were giving Glemerr eye rolls or sad smiles and shakes of their head, I started to cross my arms.
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
A few of the others paused, with Vareén being the one to call me out on it. “Not literally, right? There’s no way you actually mean to say we’re kicking dow—”
3rd Person POV
The Redbrand Lodge
Five Minutes Later
The large wooden doors, or at least one of them, were kicked open as wide as they would go.
“BOOM!” A loud, thundering voice shouted from behind a tight mask of red cloth. From behind it, the glaring visage of a half-orc woman looked across the great hall. Originally Thorn, still as a wolf, was going to help push open the front entrance since the group assumed that it would have been barricaded or at the very least heavy.
Instead, Glemerr felt little to no resistance. And when Platick and Rava saw that, they noticed that the other door they stacked up on was pushed open without issue.
“OPERATION DOOR KICKAHHHHHH!” Glemerr’s war cry carried throughout as she and the others wasted no time taking full advantage of their element of surprise and rushed in with weapons drawn.
“Alright. Time for the first one of the day.” Story wheeled his chair back, reaching for one of the multiple rolled-up maps behind him. This one being a bit smaller than the others. “Girls? Initiative.”
Story picked up the map while everybody quickly started to roll. Across everybody, there was a building tension that didn’t subside even when Story admitted that there were not nearly as many Redbrands as they thought there’d be.
Even for the small audience watching the girls’ game, they could feel it too. Ms. Cheerilee, whereas she only paid half attention to the game before, was now mostly interested in seeing how a ‘fight’ in this game was supposed to go.
The Crusaders were equally interested. Scootaloo bounced her knees, having forgotten all about the homework she needed to catch up on. Applebloom, in contrast, had already finished hers. And, after hearing her sister going as far as to think up a plan for fighting off bandits, she had stopped poking fun at the polar opposite character and was instead curious to see this ‘plan’ pay off. As for Sweetie, Button had paused his game by this point and had nothing else to distract her from what was going on.
Big Mac and Button were more or less invested but for different reasons. They had both heard what combat sounded like from Story before. Albeit not in the same way. So, they were interested to hear how this one was going to play out.
After a collection of clattering dice, each of the mundane dice now color-coded to each of the girls thanks to the magic, there were mostly happy faces.
“There we go.” “Yes!” AJ and Dash respectively were among the most excited. However, in the opposite direction, Sunset looked a little disgruntled while Fluttershy seemed downright ashamed from behind her hair.
“Good sounds,” Story remarked, gesturing for the others to move a few of the dice that got close to the center before flicking his vinyl out flat like he was unrolling a carpet. And the second it made contact with the tables, the little markings across the vinyl emitted life.
There was a small space around the front doors that was entirely outside with a thin dirt path leading up to the cobblestone stoop that encircled the front doors. The magic turned Story’s scribbles into what seemed like real dirt, grass, and even shrubbery. Even the circles with simple ‘Xs started to form the bases of trees that faded out the higher they got from the map proper.
The reason there was so much space was because there were two guards stationed outside the entrance on the lookout for exactly this reason. But because of the trees and bushes, Platick and Thorn were able to sneak close enough to put them down while Vareén cleaned up with an arrow at whichever guard would’ve had the strength to raise an alarm.
So, instead of putting out minis for their bodies, the magic created the fallen guards on the map as well. They looked like poor renders from an old video game— more red splotches from the blood and capes —but the girls understood the purpose.
“Okay. Anyone roll higher than twenty?” Story asked as the magic started to reveal the details of the lodge’s hall.
“Twenty-two,” Aj told him.
“And Twenty-one,” Rainbow matched with a huge grin on her face. “Finally, Rava doesn’t go last.”
The front doors of the map, Story already prepped to be wide open to the interior, and the magic obeyed. Starting from there and moving inward, the vinyl gave way to a wooden flooring with some amount of stains already coated across it. No doubt from the lack of care by the bandits.
“Way to go strike team,” Story complimented. “Next. Fifteen to twenty?”
“Oh! Why, that would be moi,” Rarity said with mock surprise. “Eighteen.”
The lodge’s great hall expanded to a pretty open space, separated mostly by the horseshoe-shaped pattern of massive tables set up in the center on its own raised, rectangular space. The platform was two steps above the rest of the room with heavy wooden columns set up against each corner and a long fire pit fit in the center of the tables.
What’s more, the columns were not perfectly spaced apart and they seemed to meld into the platform beneath it. The table legs and even most of the chairs were also attached to the floor in the same way. They were in disrepair as well and a few chairs and one of the tables had been entirely replaced. No doubt from the Redbrands or other destructive monsters desecrating this once pristine, Cortassian structure.
“Okay. Ten to fifteen?” Story asked, only now remembering to roll a dice for the Redbrands as most of the others’ hands all shot up.
“Fourteen.” “Thirteen~!” “Ten.” From Twilight, Pinkie, and Sunset respectively. But when all eyes fell on Fluttershy, who was shrinking further behind her hair, this look of concern quickly fell across everybody.
Scattered around the central platform were more tables and chairs that didn’t match the ruined design of the lodge. All of them were tables and chairs brought in from elsewhere; likely Phandalin itself. And like the Cortássian floors and tables, they were covered with stains and nicks. One of them even had a dagger driven into the tabletop with a couple of cards and some long-dried blood.
Then, there were four doorways all closer to the front entrance. Three of them were closed, but one of them lacked a door altogether. It was on the left side, closest to the party. Platick and Rava’s side, specifically.
“Well.” Story wrote down their numbers. And then figured out the Redbrands. “I mean, the Redbrands rolled pretty bad, honestly. So, I mean, Fluttershy, you might still beat—Oh." Story’s attempt to cheer her up when he saw the die Fluttershy likely rolled for Thorn Wielder.
And the big fat one sitting at the top.
Story hummed at the sight and wrote down Fluttershy’s total. The initiative bonuses weren’t hard to memorize for him.
“Well, thankfully.” After Story finished writing the last number, the Redbrand tendrils he and the girls’ were used to by now stretched out from behind his screen. Except this time, they weren’t swirling around and looming over the girls. Instead, they were quivering and struggling to look intimidating in the slightest.
“Thanks to you guys taking out the lookouts stealthily.” Story then moved all the miniatures into place. The party’s minis were all stacked up at the entrance as the girls told him. And then the Redbrands the party spotted.
One next to the doorless frame. Two more were seated at the central tables. Then another two seated at other tables further in.
“You get a surprise round,” he finished, picking up a clipboard and standing fully from his chair. “This being the first time you’re dealing with a surprise round, every one of you will get to take a turn. Thorn Wielder included,” he said to Fluttershy directly, making her slowly look relieved.
“Meanwhile.” Story then made a sweeping motion, gesturing to the map, and tendrils, as he did. “The Redbrands get nothing. Not even a reaction. Which means, basically, you all get two turns in a row.”
“Two whole turns without them acting?” Sunset crossed her arms, uncertain of the sudden free turn helping them out.. “Really? That seems…sort of easy. Is that really how it goes?”
“And yet, here we are.” Story pretended to flick a piece of lint off his screen, actually flicking his finger through the tendrils hanging over it. In response, the tendril twitched as though frustrated with his action but remained weakened. “Applejack? Or rather, Platick? Action.”
Upon seeing the party throw open the doors, the Redbrands were left scrambling to act. The only one who seemed to know what their first move was going to be was unfortunately the one closest to the party.
“Oh shit!” The man yelped, just about tripping over his red cloak as he tried passing through the open door frame.
“Rava!” “Right!”
The armored paladin took off in a sprint, somehow getting in front of the man as she crushed his shoulder into the wall with her hammer and stopped him in place altogether. The only word he could manage was an obscenity as he tried to draw his sword to return the favor. Only, by the time his fingers felt the hilt, a dagger found its way between his ribs and into a lung.
Combined, Platick and Ravathyra anchored him to the wall, flattening him against it as Vareén rushed in next and slid to a stop, turning only for an instant to fire an arrow through the man’s tongue and out the back of his open mouth before he could cry out for help.
While he struggled with his last moments of life, Rava turned away to shiver from the sight only to find her gaze staring into the room the man was posted outside. “There it is. The stairs! Thorn, in here!”
Thorn Wielder bounded in at the same time that Glemerr did, with both of them splitting paths the moment they breached the barrier. Thorn leaped into the smaller room, sliding to a stop at the top of a set of stairs that descended into the earth below and remained there. Her canine maw still dripped from blood from the lookout and she kept those crimson teeth bared to greet the first Redbrand or bugbear foolish enough to backup their allies topside.
As for Glemerr, her approach was no less terrifying to her foe. There was only one Redbrand seated at the center tables and she hardly managed to get out of her Cortássian chair before—
“NAT TWENTY!” Pinkie cheered, somehow leaping high enough out of her seat to tuck in her legs and now be standing on it as the others all brightened up.
“Very nice,” Story complimented with a huge grin. “And, because you’re a half-orc—” “I get three dice to roll now!”
“Three?” Applejack blinked as she and Twilight, the ones on either side of Pinkie, fed the girl their triangle-shaped dice so that Pinkie had enough to roll. “Yer big hits do that much?”
“Well, ‘big hits,’” Rainbow repeated with air quotes. “It’s still just the four-sided ones.”
“Hey. Dice are dice,” Story told them. “What are we looking at for damage, Pinks?”
Glemerr cleared the space between the entrance and fell into a tumble across the table, somersaulting across it before driving a heavy heel into the jaw of the woman. Glemerr could feel the molars crack and possibly break away from the gums before the jaw altogether became dislocated from the rest of her face. Added insult to injury, the Redbrand was thrown by the force of the kick into and nearly through the back of the chair she had just gotten out of.
Despite all of that, however, the woman was still alive. Not conscious in the slightest, mind you, but alive as she lay passed out in the chair bleeding from the face.
As the others all started to assess their new targets, Ricven strolled into the entrance of the hall without a care in the world as he prepared his violin.
“Y’know, Miss.” Ricven looked over his shoulder towards Stostine, who had taken cover behind the door frame outside. “I think I expected a mightier welcomin’ party. Gotta say this is almost disappointin’. Wouldn’t ya agree?”
Stostine, after seeing Glemerr and Vareén’s assaults, had her face looking a little green as her eyes flickered the faintest hint of mustard yellow. But for now, she was still in one piece as she glared back at the gnome.
“Could you please focus, Sir. I would rather not take a necromancy raid lightly.”
“Come now,” Ricven told her, keeping this jovial smirk on his face as he prepared his violin for his next performance. “Ya expect me ta take these clowns seriously? I mean, look at that one.”
Ricven snapped his gaze to the one Redbrand in the center of the hall. Without Glemerr in his face, the human was free to climb out of his seat and turn his attention to the gnome whose voice had suddenly become more audible to him and him alone.
“If he weren’t an absolute moron, he’da ran the moment he heard our victory last night.” Ricven watched the man clutch at his head, groaning in agony for a moment before a bolt of flames charred his torso. Once the flames dissipated, the man was breathing out screams of pain.
“For once.” Platick gave a small grunt as he yanked his dagger free of the dead man’s slumping chest and lined it up to throw at the burnt man ahead. “I agree with Stostine. Let’s keep the joy to a minimum here.”
But before he could launch the knife, Rava caught the man’s wrist. “Wait!”
“What’re you—” Platick wrenched his hand free. “There is no waiting here!”
“Slow the bloodshed,” Rava told him quickly. “They ain’t even pulled their weapons!”
“Are you seri—” Platick had nearly gone into a tirade on the daft Dwarf’s sensibilities, only to decide it was quicker to not. So instead, he turned the dagger around in his hand and flung it anyway.
“Ah jus—” Rava’s scream was pointless though. She simply watched as my knife struck the side of the man’s head. The butt of it, that is. But even that was enough to knock the man out as he tumbled over his chair. “Oh. Didnae know ya could do that.”
Platick didn’t answer, instead rushing over and jumping up on the central tables on the opposite side of the horseshoe from where Glemerr was. Platick left his tossed dagger on the floor as he did, simply drawing a new dagger out onto his free hand while he kept his shortsword in the others.
“Yeah. It’s a talent,” Platick muttered, his attention drawn towards a table that was out of sight from the entryway. “We got two more over here. Counting three in total.”
“And one more on the right,” Vareén carried on, drawing an arrow towards one Redbrand that watched as Glemerr kipped up onto her feet on the table, further towering above him.
Rava looked back towards the wolf at the stairwell. “Thorn, ya awrite in there?” The Dwarf simply got a quick woof from the wolf, which Rava took as a good sign and hurried to put herself between Platick and the three Redbrands nearest him.
By now, all Redbrands had managed to stand up and had their weapons either drawn or ready to be drawn, but they didn’t move. As Stostine walked inside, heading straight for the small fire alight in the middle of the chamber to pluck the fire into her palm, the Redbrands were slowly losing interest in throwing their lives away.
“Look,” Stostine spoke curtly. “If you all surrender, you will get to walk out of this building with your lives. You will not walk free. But at the very least you can say you did not protect a necromancer from justice.”
“Oh yeah?” One of the bandits, a half-elf with her face coated in freckles, sneered. “And what good is there in those words? Do you think that’ll make our sentence any smaller? Who’s to say you won’t chop us into bits and use us for your own spells?!”
“Do you not hear yer own stupid?!” Ricven shouted from the entrance, not daring to step in further. “We ain’t the necromancer here! Yer protectin’ a man who’s got literal skeletons in his closet!”
“Closet!” Vareén shouted back, only to pause and blink. “Wait. You got that right for once.”
“Hardly,” Ricven scoffed with an eye roll. “His skeletons are in a basement, not a closet. Point still stands. What do you gain outta helpin’ the worst magic possible?”
“‘Cause at least Glasstaff don’t hide his intentions behind all de flowers an’ lies,” another Redbrand, this one a gruff-looking human man, spat in return. “Meanwhile, you got a gnome that skirts his magic ‘hind fancy lights and a mage who pretends she’s human.”
Slowly Stostine took a step back, a deep chill running down her back as her breath caught in her throat. “What?”
“Oh yeah. We know all ‘bout you lot,” the gruff man kept going. “Alder’s gutter trash. A Dirty Fortuna. The disappointin' noble Dwarf. Country bumpkin gnome. Even the reanimated Cortássian. Yeah. Didn’t think we’d find out. Did’ya?”
“Now how in the Nine Hells..." Ricven petered out, growing just as silent as the others.
The whole room fell silent, with the Redbrands starting to grin as though they had won something with that knowledge.
Story Spinner’s POV
Ms. Cheerilee’s Classroom
3:23 PM
The concerning part wasn’t that the Redbrands knew all of that. I mean, of course, they did. I made it that way. It was an idea I had been tinkering with since before I learned about magic. Whether or not the doppelganger was found out, they were going to report the information to the gang and the thugs would let it slip the moment it was out there.
It was going to be where I started messing with them. And I was hoping that if I pulled it off right, the few of them who hadn’t worked on their backstories would be more interested in doing that.
But now that I knew better, that kind of idea was out the window. Sure, the doppelganger told the bandits, but that wasn’t going to change much. And unless it was necessary, I didn’t think forcing the girls to each make full-on backstories was a good use of time.
No, that wasn’t what concerned me. What concerned me was that I didn’t say any of that.
The gruff Redbrand just dumping most of their secrets wasn’t me. My mouth didn’t move. I didn’t make a sound. Instead, I just heard two voices speaking for themselves as the girls reacted to them like everything was fine.
Completely confused, I reached up and touched my mouth. I didn’t lose it, did I? I know I didn’t say any of that.
“You think we care?” Applejack spat at me with Platick’s tone. The others were all still unnerved, but AJ wasn’t. Maybe because she was used to everyone finding out about Platick anyway. “This is the only mercy we’ll give you. Drop your weapons. Slow. Then step away. Do that, and you’ll live to gloat about your rumor mill.”
“Heh. That’s yer idea of a mercy? I dunno. What do you guys think?”
“I think we start by gutting the orc. See if her guts smell as bad as the rumors say. Alderstone’s muck is supposed to fucking reek worse than the Under Cove.”
“Nah. I say we chop up the gnome. Gnomes is supposed ta have big families yeah? We severe the limbs and send ‘em ta each family member.”
“Whatever we do, keep their heads intact. Especially the Dwarf and mage girl. Glasstaff’ll probably give a bonus to whoever gives him a head touched by the Divine.”
“Uh. What’s happening?” Applebloom blinked. “How’s come y’all are jus’ sittin’ there all quiet?”
“Fine by me. Long as I get the Fortuna’s platinum piece.”
“Not if I filet his neck first!”
“This is what ya get for gettin’ cocky!”
“Hold the caster down for me.”
“Um. Story? Girls?” Ms. Cheerilee called out to us.
The voices kept going, their jeering and shouts getting more violent and unhinged as they seemed to talk themselves into an uproar. Some of the girls, namely Rarity and Rainbow, were getting frustrated with me for thinking I was saying all of it in front of their sisters.
Rarity tried to cut in. “As their saying th—”
“If we mount the Fortuna’s head above the mantle, maybe Phandalin’ll call us heroes. Worth a try!”
Rarity growled at me. “I said, as they keep talking, Ricven’s going to start a few notes on his violin.”
“Hey, if we keep the mage alive, her dear dad’s a mayor! We might be able to ransom her.”
“Take her fingers ‘fore we do! I ain’t lettin’ her pull nothin’.”
I clutched my mouth again. That was my voice, but I didn’t say that!
I stared at Sunset and Twilight, shaking my head with a look of bewilderment. Trying to get the point across that I wasn’t the one talking. But they didn’t react to that. Whatever illusion magic was going on, it wasn’t letting them see or hear what I was doing. They seemed to think I was running the game just as normal. It was only when everyone around us started to get confused that the girls started to get more unnerved.
“Uh, Story?” Eventually, my brother spoke up. His presence and concern made me all the more worried. “Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet for, like, a minute.”
“Quiet?” Sunset frowned. “What do you mean? He’s—”
But she was cut off. Instead, the remaining four tendrils sprung to life. And then, so too did six more tendrils that appeared out of absolutely nowhere, because that was not supposed to happen!
What?! I watched as the tendrils shook around and snapped at the girls. Two at Pinkie, two at Applejack, four at Rainbow Dash, and then two reaching for Fluttershy so fast that she let out a shriek and nearly fell out of her chair. Every one of those tendrils stopped millimeters from hitting any of them, but the effect was done.
A few of the girls were asking and checking if Fluttershy was alright. She and Applejack were sitting the closest to me, so it was doubly concerning as the tendrils had to nearly float over them to reach some of the others.
I didn’t do that! What did that?! I started pulling apart my notes, trying to figure out what was going on while simultaneously watching my side of the screen as the scene at the lodge played out. Redbrands leaped out of the rooms, all suddenly armed and ready to fight to the death. There were even two of them coming up from the basement to attack Thorn from the stairway.
It wasn’t as if these Redbrands were made up on the spot. They were instead changed from how they were acting. In truth, I had Redbrands in those side rooms, but they weren’t set up in their armor or weapons. Two of them were sleeping. One was preparing lunch! Some of the grunts in the main room weren’t even supposed to have their armor on. The Redbrands were taking shifts throughout the night since they weren’t sure if the outsiders were coming or not.
I kept scrambling around my stuff until I finally found it; my playbook for how I set up the combat. I didn’t have it down to a science. Just shorthand notes on how the bandits were set up and then how they’d act if they were overwhelmed. And the notes were pages I subconsciously wrote when I went into my world. Just like the girls with their character sheets.
But upon seeing them, I watched my notes actively changing in front of me. Still all in my handwriting, but now rewritten. And what was there was more difficult. Like what I would probably do if I were playing with a group of veterans.
It’s making it harder. Or at least trying. I put my notes down and assessed the battlefield. I mean, it’s not impossible. And it didn’t ADD Redbrands to the lodge. Just made them more competent. It’s still following what I laid out. This...This is still MY world it’s screwing with.
“Al...Al-Alright girls,” I said stiffly, summoning some false bravado. Something that Applejack and Sunset realized instantly. We had no choice but to roll with it. Even if their younger sisters knew about magic, they didn’t know about this magic. We couldn’t stop the game to convince them to leave now. Not when their characters were all in the same building as the Nothic. If we stepped away, that thing might charge them from the stairs.
The Nothic...Oh boy.
I cleared my throat. Later. That’s for later. Focus on now. “So. You had your turns,” I told them. “Now. It’s theirs.”
Their turn. Controlled by me. Meaning my turn. I might have to follow the magic’s rules, but it looks like the same goes in reverse. I can do this.
3rd Person POV
Hunting Lodge, Great Hall
A cluster of savage barks rang out from the stairwell behind the party, followed by a high-pitched yelp in pain that pulled everyone else’s attention away from the Redbrands for just a moment. That moment to which the Redbrands fully abused.
The half-elf curled her lip inward, letting out a sharp whistle that echoed across the lodge. At once, two doors flew open with four more Redbrands rushing out. Three on Rava’s side and one on Glemerr’s.
The lodge became a madhouse as everybody started swinging at once. From the stairs, where it started, Thorn snarled at one Redbrand who was just a few steps beneath her while the other one clambered up the railing to the side and got behind her, slicing at her rear thigh.
Ricven was the only one watching this and, with his violin’s music summoning small motes of light and sound, he soured one note and flung a mote into the head of Thorn’s assailant.
The Redbrand reared back, briefly looking back at Ricven while Thorn moved to the one still on the steps. Sinking her teeth into his ankle, Thorn yanked and knocked the man onto his back and down the stairs on a chorus of clanking metal and leather.
As for the rest of the room, the screaming outpaced the clashes of swords and hammers. Arrows and bolts from the Redbrands’ crossbows and Vareén littered the airspace for a moment, with a massive globule of fire joining in a moment later.
“No mercy ta the outsiders!” A Redbrand cried as their sword made it an inch or two past Rava’s flesh.
“Same in return!” Platick cried, putting more weight on the leg that didn’t get shot just in time to parry a Redbrand’s sword that threatened to take his other.
Rava brought up her shield, catching a second sword in time to thrust her hammer to the ribcage of the third Redbrand, who abandoned her charge and lept back in time to avoid getting crushed. The fourth Redbrand on her, however, found where the chainmail didn’t defend and slashed their sword against Rava’s skin, earning her more blood to match their cloaks.
“Miss Stostine!” Ricven shouted over his music while also minding his musical motes to follow along. “The wolf needs some backup!”
“On it!” Stostine drove her hand into the fire once more, not showing any sign of pain from the heat, and stole more of its fire while running back to Ricven. At the same time, Glemerr was dealing with two Redbrands herself. The one that burst out from the kitchen and the other that Vareén had her arrow trained on prior.
Both of them were hit by the onslaught, so Glemerr had plenty of time to ready herself. Taking a plate from the table beneath her, the half-orc shattered it against the first Redbrand’s sword, redirecting it into the second to let the two blades tangle up against each other.
As they did, Glem looked behind her. Two goons on Platick and four on Rava. The fire was between her and Rava, so it was harder to reach her. And she had no sight on Thorn, but the mages were helping her.
“Glem! You good?” Vareén shouted back.
Glemerr said nothing, just raised a thumb high as she stared the two Redbrands down. They were side by side and both looked like the wind was taken out of them. One good smack to either would send them to the floor.
I gotta get to the others. They need backup! I can’t waste my time with my back turned and focused on these two!
Frustrated, Glem hopped back to the opposite edge of the massive lodge table from the Redbrands and then a step to the side. But before the Redbrands could run around, Glemerr let out a guttural scream that startled the both of them.
And then she—
Pinkie threw her arms into the air and whooped, “NATURAL TWENTY AGAIN!”
“You’re kidding!” “WOO! Go Pinkie!” “Oh, that helps. That helps so much!”
Story, watching the girls all go from confident to concerned, to confident again, lit up as he stared down at his combat notes one more time. When it didn't bother trying to make the combat tougher again, he gave his notes a cocky grin.
Yeah, you can’t fight luck, can you? Dumb magic.
Story stood back up but, thinking better of it, held out his hand toward Pinkie. “I think, in this instance; Pinkie? Your minimum cleans out the first grunt. Describe how Glemerr does it.”
Pinkie, already rolling her three dice again, then rolled another D20. “Well, I wanna hit both of ‘em. Twelve to hit?”
“Twelve barely does it,” Story told her with a toothy grin. “And again, minimum damage drops him. How do you take out both Redbrands at once?”
With another whoop from Rainbow Dash, Pinkie stood up too and held out her hands as though to 'feel' the scene. “Okay. So, Glemerr gonna charge off the table at the first one with this flying kick to the face! Like wham! But! Before they fall down, Glemerr’s going to push off of them and then kick the second one in the face! Wa-pahh! Like she’s wall-running across both of them! Then! She leaps back onto the table, tucks into a roll, and starts sprinting around the tables in a lap towards Platick!”
“Much appreciated,” Applejack told her as Platick.
“And easily done!” Story nodded. And as he began to speak, the DM Screen from the girls’ side came to life visualizing Glemerr’s feat. “You kick off the first one right as she flies backward from the impact before the second one, you just break his nose altogether and send him flying too. To cover the gap between them and the table, you kick off the chair that’s thankfully anchored into the ground which gives you the kind of thrust you need to make it back. You then take that lap, rounding the tables like a track before spotting the crossbowman who was in the middle of reloading another bolt for Platick. Only for him to hear—”
“AH’M COMIN’ PLATIIIIICK!” Pinkie started fake sprinting in place while facing Story. She even went as far as to pump her arms while the classroom started laughing along with her.
Story quickly took that as his queue to method act the man, pretending to load an imaginary crossbow as he kept looking up at Glemerr. Wholly unaware that the DM Screen was mimicking his motions as both he and the Redbrand on the screen got more terrified at the hulking half-orc charging him.
“Wai—No! No! Shi—Wait! Ergh! Almost—you—Ah! NOO! AHH!”
The Redbrand’s cries were ignored. The thundering pounds of Glemerr stampeding across the tables and sent plates, mugs, and silverware clattering all over until she finally dove off the tables into a haymaker against the unprepared Redbrand.
Before the crack! of the man’s skull against her knuckle joints sounded out, Platick deftly ducked away from the distraction. He dodged around the Redbrand that came at him with a sword and forced his injured leg to follow behind as he jumped down and landed beside Rava as she finally managed to send a Redbrand to the floor with a gut slam of her hammer.
“Watch out!” Platick swung his shortsword at one Redbrand, cutting into their neck and killing them as their blade came inches away from Rava’s neck. Then, with his other hand, he flicked another dagger into a second Redbrand’s calf to draw their attention.
“Why thank ye kindly,” Rava grinned, even amongst the madness. Then, sailing over her head was an arrow that caught the injured Redbrand’s temple, sending him against the wall with a thud. “An’ thank ya too, Vareén!”
“‘Ow we handlin’ dem stairs?!” Glemerr shouted as she squared off against the Redbrand that had originally gone for Platick with a sword while Rava and Platick forced the paladin’s last attacker to go on the defensive.
“I’d say pretty handled,” Ricven returned as Stostine launched her Fire Bolt right as the man that toppled down the stairs finally came back into view. He only managed to spot the two casters for a moment before his face was wreathed in flames. He flailed about for a moment, forgetting that he was still on a staircase before he was sent down once more. This time not getting back up.
“Urrrgh! I’m not dying to a mutt!” The second man from the stairs. Shook his head violently, watching as Thorn’s visage split into three forms of itself. In anger, the man tried cleaving through all of them. But as Ricven’s violin note kept pounding in his brain, even that became impossible to manage. Thorn ducked below the blade and Ricven gave out a single cackle as he kept into his song.
“Oh, but dyin’ to a dog’s all you deserve,” Ricven told him. “Could think a’ no better death fer a brain-dead, dog-hearted wastrel.”
The man felt something in him break as froth choked up from his mouth and one of his eyes started to roll back in his head. The last thing the man managed to spot out of his good eye was the three overlapping wolves lunging for his jugular.
Back in the great hall, Platick and Rava were taking turns trying to swipe at their last attacker. Platick would try tagging their shoulder, with Rava covering his retreat when the half-elf tried jabbing their sword into his lungs. Then, Platick would roll around Rava like a pillar and come back at the bandit with a sword of his own only to fall into a stalemate as their blades cut against each other.
With Glemerr, it was a smoother fight. This Redbrand was still fresh to the fight and was now fully prepared for Glemerr, but she was better. She took it a little more carefully, side-stepping his sword swings and then returning jabs and kicks of her own only for the man to dodge or threaten her hands in return.
Vareén and Rava tried to cut in where they could, but it only added to the dying mayhem as Rava either became a target or swung wide enough that both the Redbrand and Platick had to dive away.
As for Vareén, Glemerr never gave her a clear shot. She did that on purpose. When Vareén finally found a straight shot through the man’s heart, Glemerr pivoted to put herself in the way.
“What’re you doing?!” Vareén demanded. “Glemerr!”
“Dis is mah fight!” Glem shouted back. “If ya wanna help, no killin’ dis one!”
“Aw, keepin’ ta a’ code, are ya?” The Redbrand jeered. “Cute. Ya think yer good deeds pay back what yer kin did all over Alder?”
Glemerr growled while her heavy uppercut went wide, earning a near cut across her abdomen. “You leave dem outta this!”
But the Redbrand only grinned. “Touch a nerve, did Ah?”
“Glem, move!” By now, Stostine had reentered the main room, summoning another blast of flame to strike the man. “These people are demented! There’s no reasoning with them.”
“She’s gotta point,” he kept mocking. “Ya can’t keep stickin’ ta yer code forevah. After all.” He took his sword in both hands and tried to slash Glemerr with a massive horizontal swipe. But she hopped back, keeping her hands up to get back at him. “Ya don’t wanna end up like Mord, do ya?”
The half-orc’s mask did well to hide her face, but the change in posture gave her away still. “Wh-What? How'd you—”
“Enough.” Stostine eyes, as well as her flames, soured into a deep blue before she held up her hand, letting the flame shoot out of her palm like a gunshot. The bandit saw it coming and tried to hold up his sword to block the blast.
But it was useless. The fire instead was caught in Glemerr’s palm, incinerating her hand for a brief moment as the half-orc grunted from the heat. The Redbrand, bewildered by the show of mercy, wasn’t ready as Glemerr, hand still coated in blue fire, backhanded the man.
He was sent sliding against the floor, his head pounding against one of the tables that was brought into the lodge. The sword fell from his grasp at one point and while he tried to look for it, all he saw was Glemerr looming over him.
One of her eyes stared out at him from the tatters of his allies’ cloaks wrapped across her face. It was an onyx black that seemed to pull light into it. The other eye, in contrast, looked as though it were a small beacon shining down on the man like a spotlight.
“You don’t know what yer sayin’, punk,” Glemerr murmured at him as she focused on dying blue embers on her hand. Before they expired, the blue desaturated in color and condensed itself until it was an orb of blackness that clung to Glemerr’s hand.
Behind her, Platick caught the other Redbrand’s blade between his dagger and shortsword, hiking all the metal high above the woman’s head so that Rava had a clear shot to drive her hammer into their chest. The slam knocked the Redbrand onto her knees, coughing and heaving until Platick knocked her out with the butt of his dagger.
With her taken care of, everyone save for Thorn and Ricven was free to watch as Glemerr put her foot on top of the Redbrand’s knee. And then crushed.
“Who was it?” Glemerr’s voice rumbled low. “Who told you about Mord?”
“Fuck you!” He shouted back, wrenching his leg back and forth as he tried to resist. “All of you! I hope that crazy necromancer takes yer bones and has ‘em burn down whatever holes you crawled out o—Oooh! Ah! Arghgghhghhh!”
He stopped talking when Glemerr’s hand, still within the darkness, grabbed the man’s throat and picked him up. Then, as he screamed in this hollow, distorted breath, she brought him just above her head and then forced his body through the battered table behind him.
The table shattered beneath the force and Glemerr spiked him back to the floor, backing up as she and the others watched the man twitch and gasp for breath before finally, he passed out. Alive, unconscious, but certainly scared as the darkness around Glemerr slowly faded away.
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Amazing job, once again. Loving these.:D