#Thralls might be a little too extreme or lean a little too heavy in a direction that I'm not sure actually encompasses all the themes

[rawliverandgoronspice]

perhaps I have found a title for the animatic project................ I'm thinking Thralls of Power?

[youngster-monster]

Day sixteen // Thrill

Uldren and Jolyon are two extremely competent men, the Master of Crows and his right-hand man. They’re the two best shot in the Reef, they regularly run some of the most dangerous missions the Queen can give them. There isn’t much left in the system that can scare them.

Or at least that’s what Jolyon tells himself. It’s a good way to keep the panic at bay while they’re legging it through dark, Hive-infested corridors, desperately looking for an exit. His rifle is heavy on his shoulder, hitting him in the back of his thighs at each step, but the pain is far preferable to what the Hive would inflict on them if the Thralls at their heels caught up with them. He clutches the strap crossing his chest like his life depends on it. It does: if it slides off his shoulder and he trips on his own gun, he’ll die, and in the most pathetic way possible at that.

“See, I told you I’d bring you somewhere interesting!”

He doesn’t look back at Uldren, only tugs on his hand, urging him to go faster.

“Less talking,” he gasps, out of breath, “More running!”

They round a corner, ducking under the disgusting, organic growth covering every surface of this Hive hideout. Jolyon’s foot catches on the uneven floor and he trips, winces as hot pain shoots up his leg. Uldren lets go of his hand. For an irrational, heart-stopping second, he thinks the prince is going to keep running, leave him behind to get eaten by the Hive or whatever terrible fate they have in store for the two of them. Then Uldren’s hand closes around his upper arm, hauling him up and after him.

Jolyon’s ankle hurts. It’s sprained, probably. He keeps running anyway. It’s just another pain to add to the tally, with the chemical burn on his side from a cursed thrall exploding too close to him. They’ve been surprisingly good at avoiding wounds in their mad dash out of danger, but it won’t last. Already his chest burn with exertion and his leg aches with increasing pain. They won’t be able to keep going for much longer.

How did they even get themselves in that situation? They’re good at their job, usually. Going in and out of enemy strongholds like it’s a walk in the park. But they’d been complaining about boredom too much lately. The Ahamkara must have heard.

Damn. He’s never saying anything again about patrol duty. Anything is better than running away from a horde of bloodthirsty thralls in the middle of Hive territory.

Uldren aims blindly behind them and empty a full magazine in their pursuers. One of the bullets hits a cursed thrall. The following shock wave as half a dozen of them explode send them stumbling forward, propelled by the impact. The flash of light briefly blinds Jolyon and he follows Uldren without thinking as he makes a sharp turn left.

He hits a corner with his momentum but doesn’t slow down. Uldren drags him forward, lets go only to scramble up a wall. Jolyon follows as fast as he can, biting his lip until it bleeds to smother his cry of pain as he rests his weight on his sprained ankle. He comes up just in time to see Uldren clear out a gunked hatch with a few kicks, the sound covered by the groaning of the Hive chasing them.

They crawl inside, Jolyon first then Uldren, scooting backward with his gun pointed to the direction they came from. It’s not an air duct, as Jolyon expected. More like a cupboard, filled with rusty pipes. Uldren carefully puts the hatch back in place and they squeeze next to each other, still panting with exertion.

The first thing Jolyon says, once he can get more than a few stammered words out, is, “We’re supposed to be more competent than that.”

Uldren chuckles breathlessly. All the tension seems to drain out of him and he slumps against Jolyon, his head thumping against his shoulder.

“At least it’s not boring,” he whispers back.

Jolyon groans, pushes him weakly. “It’s your fault.”

“Why?” Uldren asks, eyes twinkling with laughter.

“You’re the one always complaining about how boring our assignments are. Didn’t your sister warn you about careless wishes?”

He says it like a joke, but winces when he sees Uldren’s face fall at the mention of Mara. He doesn’t get the time to apologize, though. His body chooses that moment to remind him that everything hurts, actually, and he hisses through his teeth as pain shoots up his leg and through his chest.

The somber look is wiped from Uldren’s face, replaced by worry as he sits up.

“You okay, Jol?”

“M’fine, just-” He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall. Breathes out, slowly. Forces down the pain through sheer force of will. “Got a bit roughed up back there.”

A weight settles on his legs. He watches Uldren through his lashes as the man looks for his wounds, hands hovering over his chest as if he’s afraid to hurt him more. He’s beautiful, even like this, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, covered in Hive gunk. He tries for a smile and only manages a grimace as he pushes his coat aside to reveal the burn covering his right side.

“Shit,” Uldren hisses. “Looks painful.”

“As long as it’s not my face I don’t care.”

He snorts. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want to ruin your good looks.”

“Aww, you think I look good?”

“Not as good as me, but I’m not asking you for a miracle.”

There’s a pop as he opens his water canteen. Jolyon’s reply is lost when Uldren empties the whole thing over his burn and he has to grit his teeth to keep his scream in. His breathing is ragged by the time the pain subsides. He opens his eyes to glare at the prince.

“This shit will eat right through your flesh if you don’t wash it off.”

“Maybe a little warning, next time?”

“There won’t be a next time. I’ll make sure of it,” Uldren says, voice dark. He rubs comforting circle in his shoulder, his other hand resting on his hips, just under the burn. “How’s the ankle?”

“Sprained. I can walk on it, but-” He trails off, watching Uldren. “Are you okay? It’s not the first time I got hurt. I’m used to it, you know.”

Uldren rubs his forehead, sighing. “I know. I’m just tired. I hate the Hive.”

“Can’t fault you on that. How long before we can move out, you think?”

“Few hours, maybe? I signaled for an evac, we just have to wait for it the reach us.” He shifts his weight slightly, leaning in. “In the meantime, I have a few ideas to keep us entertained...”

Jolyon huffs a laugh. “Really? Here? Do you have a Hive kink or something?”

Uldren doesn’t dignify him with a response. He closes the gap between them, bites his lower lip gently before capturing his lips in a kiss. Jolyon wraps his arms around his shoulders, drawing him in. Uldren hums appreciatively against his mouth. He deepens the kiss and, out of the blue, presses his fingertips in the fresh burn on Jolyon’s side. His pained gasp turns into a moan, swallowed by Uldren.

“Asshole,” he mutters against his lips.

Uldren smirks. “You say that like you’re not enjoying it.”

Jolyon’s hands travel down his back, settle on his ass. He pulls him closer, delights in the sound it elicits. “Quiet,” he whispers. “There won’t be any time to kill if you attract the Hive here and they kill us.”

The prince looks faintly outraged, either at the implication that he’s noisy — which he is, thank the light for soundproofed walls — or that he can’t be quiet if he wants to — which is still up to debate. He opens his mouth to reply—

Jolyon drags him back down in a kiss, smothering his complaints. Maybe they have a few hours to kill, but it might not be enough for all the things he want to do to Uldren. Better get to it quickly.

[scapegoated]

One Month [Chapter 3]

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

-- Clear Waters

Kaid found himself back at the door of Oz’s cottage again, and this time his hesitation was more so, Should I knock first or just unlock the door myself? What exactly is the protocol here?

He was still looking at the key when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Ahh—!!” turning around with a start, Kaid was suddenly looking up at Oz. He was wearing more fancy robes than Kaid was used to seeing him in. Guess that went hand in hand with the promotion.

“It’s just me! Does it not work?” he gestured to the key, with a little smile.

“Oh, no no, I uh… I did lock up this morning. Worked like a charm!! I just wasn’t sure if you were home…”

“Now I am! Shall we?”

And so, Kaid turned the key and opened the door.

“I’m just going to change, I’ll be down in a minute. Still not used to these vestments.” Oz’s voice trailed back as he headed up the stairs.

Kaid walked into the kitchen, unpacking his notes from the day on the small table. He ran his finger along the lines, pausing at holy water again. Hadn’t he heard of a spell to make holy water? What was it… what was it… he thought back to some of the spellbooks he’d borrowed from Malfier many months ago.

Ah, that’s right! Ceremony, wasn’t it? A Cleric spell, but since Kaid would cast rituals, it wasn’t out of his reach. Those books he’d borrowed were out of his reach, however—

“Busy day?” Oz was leaning over his shoulder slightly, taking a peek at the notes.

Kaid started a little less than last time. “—oh, I was just in the Arcanum Library, doing some research. Do you know the spell Ceremony?” Kaid glanced up from the notes.

The cleric at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, “Ceremony? What for? I think you’re a little old for a coming of age ceremony, what else is there… do you have something to atone for? Or did you want to perform a wedd—“

“—Bless Water!” Kaid blurts out, red face reddening, “We’re heading back up to vampire central, and it would be extremely useful if we could make some Holy Water.”

“Aha!” He grins, moving over to the kitchen counter and getting out some cooking utensils, “So that’s all…. Sure, I do know the spell. I can lend you my book to copy to your spellbook.”

“D-Do you mind showing me as well? It’d really help me get used to preforming the ritual.”

“We can do that, absolutely. Let’s do a very important ritual right now, first of all.” He was wearing an apron—not his crafting apron, however—and holding up a pan.

“You mean dinner, huh?”

“Yup! Do you want mushrooms, mushrooms or… mushrooms?”

Kaid tried not to think of the mushroom folk from his nightmare, not that they were the same thing as regular ‘shrooms… “I’ll go with option 3: mushrooms.”

“A wise choice.”

--

“Y’know, I think that might be the best meal I’ve had in months.” Kaid was stacking the plates and tidying up.

“Not sure if that’s a good basis of comparison. Haven’t you been eating travel rations, hastily stuffed into a bag?” Oz chuckled.

“True, but my point still stands!” Kaid protested, laughing. “Ah! Speaking of hastily stuffed into a bag, do you know anyone in the city who can make armour? Charlie wanted to get some… half-plate made, I think?”

“Of course, let’s see, what kind of metal?”

“Uh... Mithril. We found some ore. Well, we took some ore,” Kaid admits, adding quickly, “In a Drow mine. Which we exploded after liberating the slaves.” He’s now extra focused on washing the remaining couple of dishes.

There’s a long pause. “You three liberated a whole mine full of slaves?”

“To be fair, it was us plus a Drunk Monk who was maybe a God, a giant goat, a wild boar, a rat and a bat. The goat did most of the work.”

“Wait, hold up. A God? A giant goat?”

“Um. Honestly, it’s very difficult to explain. It just kinda happened, somehow? It was a pretty bad situation, but something positive came out of it,” he sets down the last dish to drip dry, recalling the hundreds of vampire thralls they’d encountered in the mine and subsequently run away from.

Kaid’s shoulders tense up at the thought of their narrow escape, and the impossibly tall, pallid skinned, head vampire, growing closer with its insatiable hunger an—unexpectedly a pair of arms are wrapped gently around him, and despite the heavy feeling in Kaid’s stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of the taller cleric’s warm embrace. He could feel the tension in his body start to relax.  

“Is that some healing magic, or do you just have powerful hugs?”

“Just a regular hug, I think.” It sounded like he was smiling.

Huh, feels pretty magical to me, Kaid thought to himself. Breaking the embrace just enough to turn around, and in turn wrap his own arms around Oz’s waist, facing him. “Ah, sorry, my hands are still wet.” He shifted his glance around, suddenly embarrassed, even though he was the one who had made this move. Despite having slept together, even being close like this made Kaid’s heart race.

“Don’t worry about your hands. We can talk about what happened in the Labyrinth later, when you feel comfortable.” Oz gazed down, despite Kaid’s averting gaze.

Kaid’s brow furrowed slightly, “I’m not sure I want to talk about it.” This was new. With his party they just went through things together, and dealt with it in the moment. Having to dredge up past actions and explain them, be judged by them?

Oz considered him for a minute, “Kaid, I haven’t known you that long, but I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me, have I?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” suddenly his more reactive side coming out. “I’ve already given you plenty of reasons to doubt me, and I don’t need to add to the pile.”

“A confession isn’t what I’m asking for, just for you to know that I want to be someone who you can confide in when you’re worried.” He looks a little hurt then, adding to Kaid’s sense of guilt.

With a deep breath and a sigh, Kaid leans his forehead against his chest, “Right now, I’m still processing everything, but… I’ll tell you. I want you to know everything, but… it scares me. There’s things I’m still figuring out about myself.”

Soon, there’s a hand on the back of his head, fingers combing through his slightly-too long hair. It’s a comforting gesture, and there seems to be a sense of calm once again.

--

For the second morning in a row, Kaid awakens in an empty bed. This time, however, it’s darker outside and he can hear movement from the kitchen downstairs. Grabbing some clothes from his bag and tossing them on, he pulls the same Levitation trick on the bedcovers again. Handy in the wild, handy in uh, domestic situations…

Oz was just plating some food when Kaid walked into the kitchen.

“Let me guess… mushrooms?” the Warlock asked, smirking.

“Good morning! However did you know? Mushroom omelettes this time.”

“Oh, just my good old psychic powers, of course.” Kaid tapped the side of his head and pulled up a chair. He didn’t think he could flip an omelette to save his life, but these were practically perfect and smelled fantastic, though he wondered how many ways you could prepare mushrooms without getting tired of them…

“Must be feeling a bit less tired than yesterday, since you’re making an appearance at my breakfast table.” Oz sat down in the chair opposite, “Thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep you up too late while you’re settling in.” He gives Kaid one of those ‘winks’ with his good eye.

Kaid was just about to take a second bite and was glad he hadn’t when he coughed in reaction to this, “Ah—uh, y-you can keep me up any time. Delicious omelette by the way. Best I’ve had!”

It’s true, compared to last time, they were taking it pretty slow, which Kaid didn’t mind. Still pretty exhausted from their time in the Labyrinth, the careful embraces, tender kisses and not to mention someone to hold when he fell asleep had been more than enough. Looking up now across the table, however, it was easy to imagine more.

“Don’t let your food get cold,” Oz gestured, amused look on his face. He was just about done. “Oh! So I don’t forget; I wrote down the name of two armor smiths in the Marketplace. One is my friend Del Tadaban. He makes more serviceable pieces. Nothing flashy, but he does good work. Second is a husband and wife duo, Sundgar and Cali Fogsten—cousins through my adopted family. They make more elaborate, signature pieces. He does the leatherwork and sewing, and she does the metalwork. Can’t go wrong with either of those.”  

Oz pulled a neatly folded note out of one of the pockets in his vestments and slid it across the table to Kaid, who was still eating. Ruffling his hair as he walked by to put his dish in the sink.

“I’ll do those! Thanks for breakfast—how did you know I was going to get up on time?”

“Call it a hunch. Have fun at the market!” Oz waves as he grabs his bag and heads out the door.

-- Get Equipped

Unfolding the parchment, Kaid smiled at seeing the neat pencil drawing of the market, with both of the armory locations noted in clear block print. He was headed to see if Charlie was around and available to go scope things out. It would be good to get that armor underway if they wanted to have everything prepared for when they were ready to leave.

When he was about to open up the door leading to the government residences he nearly collided into Hans. “Ah, shoot, sorry Hans.”

“Kaid. I didn’t need my Ring of Truesight to see you sneak into the Seat of the Triumvirate yesterday,” von Panzer looked down with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, guess I forgot to set my alarm.” Kaid shrugged, making a move to pass him… which was effortlessly blocked by the dexterous Rogue. “…hey.”

“We may be here for a while but we can’t let our guard down. Yesterday I was whipping the city guard into shape with Gordon. Today I’m going to brief Nostro about the Aboleth situation. Those pathetic sailors could use some extra training as well. Yelling, ‘We’re sailing!’ and ‘We’re helping!’ doesn’t pass for competency in my book.” The half-Elf cut a striking figure, with his defined cheekbones, well-muscled physique, and golden eyes.

Kaid tried not to roll his eyes, “That’s not really my wheelhouse so I’m so pleased you’ve taken charge. I did hit the books yesterday, I’ve got some leads on some good vampire tactics. Maybe let’s all meet tomorrow to discuss?”

“I approve. Later, Kaid.” He stepped deftly out of the way and strode off in the direction of the military quarter.

It wasn’t too difficult to find Charlie. Neither he nor Kaid are very tall, but they’re still easy to spot over the predominantly Dwarven citizens. “Hey! Charlie! I got some info from Oz about armories! Both of them are in the Market district—do you want to check them out today?”

“Sure, if you don’t have too much reading to do—nerd!” Charlie teased.

Kaid laughed. I mean he did spend all day in the library yesterday. “I think I can spare some time away from the books.”

[zacknano17]

Day 1: words 1 - 2541

In which, the THB didn’t do the thing and have to do a different thing instead.

The Director rises from her chair, and there is a small, almost relieved smile on her face.

“I can't believe you've done it again,” she says.  Her staff in hand, she steps down from the dais and summons a guard.  “I can't believe you've done this.”

“Success is what you get when you hire the best!” Magnus responds, puffing out his chest comically.  Taako smacks him in the knees with his staff.

The Director carefully keeps the smile on her face.

Moments later, the guard she had summoned appears, wheeling out the heavy lead ball that would safely house the Relic until she could channel its energy into her staff.  He opens the top, and Taako -- of course it's Taako again -- begins searching through his bag.  He dips the handle of his staff within the bag and hooks it on something.

The Director keeps herself from leaning forward in anticipation.  The Relic has not been used, so she has no idea which it is.  She hopes quietly that it is the Bell, and that Wonderland has been reduced to a memory, but she...suspects it is not.  The Chalice has been off her radar for a while, and if it was being used, it would be nigh impossible to find again; finding it would be fantastic.

Instead, hooked on the umbrella's handle is a flashy diamond tiara.

“What is that?” she asks.

“A Grand Relic?” Taako suggests.

“No,” she says.  She presses two fingers to her temple.  “No -- that is not a Relic, that is a piece of jewelry.  Where is the Relic?  Tell me you found the Relic.”

“Did it get destroyed on the train?” Magnus asks.

“What were we even lookin' for?” Merle puts in.  “Do we know?”

“Um.”  Taako takes his backpack and empties it on the floor.  Out comes tumbling a variety of expensive looking things.  A silver necklace.  A bunch of silverware.  A few rings.  A huge (probably fake) diamond.  A piece of green fabric that the Director mistakes for the sash for just a moment.  An old bronze compass.

“What the fuck, Taako? Is this everything that was in the crypt safe?” Magnus asks.

“Well, we were about to send the train crashing into Wankins' garden, and nothing talked to me like the glove did, so I thought, you know, maybe I ought to take everything, just in case,” Taako explains.  “And, see?  I was right, wasn't I?”

“Horse shit!” Merle interjects.  “You were gonna sell all this stuff!”

Taako shrugs.  “After I was sure it wasn't a relic, yes.”

“Hold on.  None of this is a Relic,” the Director says.  She is feeling a little faint.  “Are you -- are you sure no one else got into the safe before you did?”

“Wankins did, but he fell off the train and died,” Magnus explains.  “Other than him, it was just us.”

“What about that nosy brat with the big glasses?” Merle asks.

“No, he was with us in there, but he didn't take anything,” Magnus says. “Shame he wasn't able to get his grandpa's silverware set back, huh, Taako?”

“You stole a little boy's silverware,” the Director says.

“I gave him some of it back,” Taako protests.

“You stole a little boy's silverware.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds a whole lot worse than it is.  I mean, he was in there, and he did leave it behind.  It'd all be destroyed if it wasn't for me.”

The Director sighs, deeply.  “Never mind that.  Tell me about this -- this Wankins who fell out of the train.  He had access to the safe before you did, right?” She dismisses the guard, who wheels the big lead ball back out of the room.

“He had this fantastic bowtie,” Merle explains helpfully.

“Great. Wonderful.  Can you tell me anything useful about him?”

The Director learns about the Rockport Limited's former wizard attendant Jenkins, both useful things and not.  Magnus and Merle are eager to talk.  Taako interjects once in a while, but he is more concerned about methodically retrieving each and every item that has tumbled from his bag.  It was strange -- he had always been something of a klepto, but this was a bit much, even for him.  He had always been tempered by...ah.

She had known that it would be painful to bring these three back into her life.  But she is still surprised by the intensity of that hurt once in a while.

She decides she will personally retrieve the body of Jenkins.  No need to expose anyone else to the thrall of whatever Relic may or may not have been there, and she hasn't been down planet side in a while.

“So, are we gettin' paid or what?” Merle asks, cutting into her rumination.

“What,” she replies.  “You didn't retrieve a Relic.  You only get bonuses when you retrieve a Relic.”

“But we solved the train murder puzzle,” Magnus protests.

“And you did a very good job, and I am so very proud of you,” the Director replies dryly.  “No relic, no payment.”

Taako hefts his bag over his shoulder.

“Looks like Taako is the only one gettin' paid today, homies.”

The Director never does find Jenkins' body.

But her Seekers do find the Gaia Sash and the Philosopher's Stone, and her Reclaimers are reassigned as Taako, Magnus, and Merle take over the entire department, as she had always known they would.

Four pieces of the Light of Creation have been reassembled within her staff.  She allows the Reclaimers some time to themselves after the incident with the Miller base -- Merle in particular deserves some medical leave.  But she can't rest for long.  The Hunger has already honed in on the pieces of the Light she has retrieved.

It's just a matter of time, now.

It's early spring, and, in spite of not having any real Bureau missions to speak of, Taako has been surprisingly busy.  Between Angus' magic lessons and the training regimen the Director has them on, he has barely had any real Taako time for his own studies (and his own personal grooming, and pampering, etc.).  He hasn't even been down to shop in Neverwinter in actual weeks.

When he finally has a day off, he is completely prepared to use it.  He dresses in an extremely flattering skirt and legging combo, complete with semi-practical boots for all the walking he is going to have to do, a HOT BOY t-shirt partially covered by a jacket, and the gaudiest jewelry he owns.  He would look like an absolute dream, except that he hadn't had time to touch up his roots lately.

The Miller lab had been off putting with the color pink, that much is for certain.  Being that it is one of Taako's favorite colors, though, meant he had had to reclaim it.  He'd been doing a bleach blond for a while, so it wasn't hard to add fuchsia tips.  Not only does it look fantastic with his current outfit, but it also looks fantastic just in general.

Except the roots.  He'll get those touched up today, maybe.  It's nice having a steady paycheck.  He doesn't mind bleaching his hair on his own, it's just nicer when other people do it for you.

For now, he'll just accessorize with a hat.  He normally leaves the wide brimmed wizard hat for work, but it'll work for his outfit today.  He uses a Prestidigitation spell to match it to his outfit and then checks himself out in the full length mirror.

Fabulous.

He wonders if he can bribe Magnus to come with him and carry his packages.  He might have to make more macarons, but it would be worth it.

Just as he comes out into the large living space the three of them share, where Magnus and Merle are playing some boring card game, a familiar voice comes over the loud speaker installed within.

“Would the Reclaimers Burnsides, Highchurch, and Taako come to the Director's Office, please,” Davenport's voice says.

“Noooooo,” Taako says despairingly.  “Nooooo. It's my day off!  My day off!”

“And you were gonna use it for...a fashion show?” Magnus wonders, tossing his cards down as he stands up and stretches.

“I was going shopping,” Taako whines.  “I was going to get my roots touched up!”

“Your roots?” Merle asks.

“They do look pretty terrible,” Magnus says, helpfully.

“Because I've got no time to fix them,” Taako replies.  “I got plans forever.  Taako's planner is booked for months.”

“Bullshit. You slept in until four in the afternoon on your day off last week,” Merle points out.

“Because I had plans to sleep!  Fuck you!”

The Director is not resting on her dais as she normally would be, but rather speaking quietly with Davenport, when they enter her meeting room.  She straightens up when she sees them, nodding to Davenport, who heads on out of the room.

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” she says, nodding to each one of them in turn.  “I have just received news from one of our Seekers that another Relic's location has been discovered.”

“Great!” Magnus responds.

“Hope this one ain't about to turn the world into crystals too,” Merle says.

“And I hope it doesn't take long to retrieve it, because it's my day off,” Taako insists.

“No crystallization, Merle,” the Director says.  “We already did that schtick, and it would be boring if we did it twice. Taako, I'm sorry, but your debut on Faerun's Next Top Model will have to wait another week or so.  There are more important matters at hand here.”

Taako sniffs derisively.

“Oh, he can't be top model yet, Director,” Magnus puts in, and there is a devious smile playing on his lips.  “His roots look terrible.”

“That's why I was going to get them touched up!” Taako screeches.  “Fuck! One of us ought to -- to have some culture!  To not look like a bumbling buffoon!”

“Too bad you didn't get your hair did, then,” Merle snickers.  “We're just three ogres now.”

“Can we please talk about this Relic?” the Director asks.  She sounds tired.

The boys quiet down as much as they ever do, and she leads them back to the dais.  “We have a Seeker called Clark Richards stationed in the city of Waterdeep, and he has found what appears to be the Relic known as the Oculus,” she explains.  “It -- it has the ability to turn anything you create with illusion magic into something real.  Something tangible.”

“But that sounds great,” Magnus puts in.

“Have to agree with the big guy there,” Taako admits.

“It's really great, until you use it to conjure an illusory army, or some sort of illusory dragon -- ”

“Still sounds great,” Taako says.

“Or an illusory black hole that then destroys the world.”  The Director is beginning to sound annoyed.

“Not seein' a downside,” Merle says.

“But we can -- can't we use that good?” Magnus asks.  “As long as we use its power responsibly...”

“You'd better keep that shit in check,” The Director says tightly.  “The Relics cannot be used for good.  Their power overwhelms and inevitably leads only to evil.  This sort of thinking -- it will only drain you.  It will tear you apart from your friends, will...Magnus.  This power is consuming. Do you understand?”

The mood in the room has changed.  The expression on Magnus' face is more serious now.  “Yeah, I get it.  I just thought -- well, you guys know more about that magic bullshit than me anyway,” he says, shrugging.

“Don't forget what you saw happen to Gundren and the Raven,” she warns. “The Oculus is no different.”

No more really needed to be said on that front.

“The Oculus appears to be in the hands of a woman named Rebekah Joiner.” The Director paces back toward her throne as she speaks.  “She's using it to -- well, we're not exactly sure, because it sounds a little...strange.  But she is a wedding planner by trade, and it seems as though she's been using a Grand Relic in order to give people their dream weddings.”

There's a silence.  And then Taako pipes up:  “How awful.”

“We -- Taako, we literally just had a conversation about -- about how quickly these situations turn bad,” the Director points out, her frown deepening.  “Perhaps she hasn't had it for very long, or she is using it in ways we don't know of yet, but -- ”

“I get it, I get it,” Taako assures her.

“Anyway. Being that she's very good at what she does, your usual method of Relic collection isn't going to work,” she goes on.  “She owns a legitimate business in the heart of a busy city, so you won't be able to just fight your way in.  We'd like to...minimize civilian casualties.  Besides that, Rebekah has considerable means and, if she thinks you're after her, she will probably just go underground, along with the Oculus.”

“Um, I had to break it to ya, Director, but we're not great at the stealth bits,” Merle remarks.

“I'm a level 2 rogue now!” Magnus puts in.

“Great, dipshit, it's a level 10 mission,” Taako grouses.

“Maybe you could apply for jobs at her legitimate place of business,” the Director says, tired.  “I'm quite aware that undercover work isn't exactly your strong suit either, but, I don't know, maybe this time we'll get lucky.”

“Ooh, a long con, huh?  I'm down,” Taako says.  “But I definitely should have touched up my roots if you want me out on a job interview.  Just sayin'.”

“Do I have to pretend I'm Leeman Kessler again?” Merle asks.

“No,” responds the rest of the room, in unison.

“Listen, your method of infiltration is entirely up to you three,” the Director says.  “I don't care.  Just don't let her get away from you, and don't use the Oculus.  Avi has instructions as to where to send you.  This is a longer mission, so you'll have an hour to pack up some of your things -- yes, Taako, one single hour -- and then you'll need to be on your way.”

“Can you touch up your roots in an hour?” Merle asks Taako, as they leave.

“No.”

The ride to the forested area outside Waterdeep is uneventful, and Taako stares out the window as the giant cannon ball slowly skids to a stop.  He hasn't been out this direction in a long while.  Not since he performed for Sizzle It Up With Taako here, all those years ago.  It had been a big show, lots of people showing up to see him. It's far from Glamor Springs, but it's usually safest just to avoid places he's been.

It hasn't been a problem so far, not since he had joined the Bureau of Balance.  But he's always on edge, never knowing quite when that might change.  It's safer that way.

Magnus and Merle have no idea what he's done.  That's safer too.

Taako regards his three pieces of luggage and the soft, grassy terrain they would have to cross to get into the city. They're a fair distance away from the main road.  He had not thought this through.