#i always love drawings where orym has earrings

[finncakes]

its about the yearning... the touch-starved yearning...

[goblin-gardens]

How do you find your found family? With a compass, of course. Hopefully they're always north of you.

EXU, 1611 words, all this is based off of is episode 1 vibes.

He's made it back to the place they're supposed to meet up before anyone else... but as he looks up at the statue he's waiting by, he realizes it looks different than it had this morning. From this angle, the marble statue almost looks bronze. The plaque on the base shares no secrets with him, either. He doesn't remember the name of the mage well enough to look for it among the words.

He sidles politely up to a man selling baked goods from a storefront. "Sorry to bother you," he says. The elf looks friendly enough. "I'm supposed to be meeting my friends by a statue of a mage? Is there one of those nearby?"

"Sure," the elf points first behind Dariax and then to the side. "There's the Vysoren statue at the north end of the Promenade, and there's a few in the park a few streets over. Can I offer you a doughnut for your walk?"

Dariax surveys the choices as the merchant begins to describe each flavor in detail. "I'll take one of each," he says decisively. That's enough to give one to each of his friends and still have a couple for himself.

Armed with fresh supplies, he stops at the crossroads. He can't see any other statues from where he is, so he places his compass in his palm and gives the needle a good spin while he munches on his first doughnut. When it slows, it's pointing off to his left, and as he follows its direction, he sees Opal's shining hair as she turns a corner and heads away from him.

"Hey! Hey Opal!" Dariax almost drops the bag of doughnuts as he scrambles to catch up. "Wait for me! I'm coming too!"

She turns around and waves with a huge smile as soon as she sees him. Dariax triumphantly offers her first choice of the doughnuts.

And they might get lost once or twice more before they find the right statue, but they make it with two doughnuts left. Dariax splits one with Dorian, and Fearne and Ormyn split the other with none left over for the monkey, which Dariax counts as a resounding success.

He's sitting at a bar, enjoying a cup of good ale, Dorian's music from the far side of the room, and the company of the pretty bartender, now that the night is later and the customers have slowed down.

Not all the way down, since it's a big place and she's the only one working. She laughs at Dariax's jokes, but when a trio of well-dressed merchant types sit down at the far end of the bar, she heads off. This time, without any assurance that she'll be back.

It doesn't ruin Dariax's mood any. Without her to talk to, he slips into a quiet, buzzy contentment, happy to savor his ale and the dry warmth after a day slogging through wet mud. He watches the way the firelight flickers on the glass bottles behind the counters for a while, a little drunk and a little hypnotized. When he feels his eyes start to cross, he shakes his head and sits up. He hadn't realized how far he'd slumped over.

The wood of the bar is the same color as parts of his compass rose. He turns the pendant over in his hand and gives the needle an idle spin. It settles pointing to his right, and Dariax is surprised and pleased to find Orym sitting beside him.

He knocks his mug companionably against the halfling's smaller, fuller cup. He doesn't recognize the drink in it. "All right then, Orym? You took some pretty hard hits there earlier."

"All right," Orym agrees. "Thanks to your help."

Dariax fills up to his ears with pride and warmth, and throws an arm around Orym's shoulders, pulling his whole stool closer in. "Of course! That's what friends are for, right?"

The bartender returns, bustling. "Need any refills, lads?"

"I'll have one of what he's having," Dariax tells her, gesturing at Orym's cup.

She raises an eyebrow but turns to grab a bottle from a shelf.

"Wait," Dariax whispers to Orym, "is that very expensive?"

"No," Orym whispers back, smirking. "Just not alcoholic."

But Dariax can't back out now. He only picks up the cup once the bartender has turned away again, and prepares himself to say something polite about whatever it is.

He takes a sip. Then one more. "Hey! That's actually pretty good!"

Orym chuckles into his cup. Dariax grins, so wide his cheeks hurt.

It's moved from late at night to very, very early in the morning. The moons have both set, even the crickets have stopped singing and gone to sleep, and Dariax is concerned that the sounds he's hearing in the woods is a pack of wolves coming to rip their throats out.

Dorian is the one who woke him up, so Dariax shouldn't bother him. Opal screamed and slapped time last time he woke her up, so he doesn't want to do that again. That leaves Fearne or Orym... Orym also hates being woken up, and the fucking monkey is curled up like a furry, smoldering teddy bear in Fearne's arms. No good options.

Dariax hears the noise again, and sees a treetop across the fire shake slightly. Wolves climbing trees? That's very bad. He looks anxiously between Orym and Fearne, hoping one of them will wake up on their own.

No dice. Stumped, Dariax picks up his compass rose and gives the needle one tiny little tap. It quivers and points at Fearne.

Maybe that's a good call. Little Mister can go up the tree and fight the wolves there. Dariax leans over and gingerly shakes Fearne's shoulder.

Her eyes pop open and her ears flicker as he puts his finger to his lips, then points out to where he heard the noise.

"I think there's something out there," he whispers. "Maybe wolves."

Fearne sits up quietly, sliding the monkey down onto her bedroll gently enough that he only mutters and rolls into the warm spot she leaves behind.

"I have a way to see," she whispers back, and casts a spell that Dariax doesn't recognize. Everything around them seems to catch fire for just a moment, then the light settles into a dim, smoldering blue, outlining their sleeping friends around the fire, each leaf of the trees and bushes around them...

and the family of startled raccoons staring down at them from the trees.

Fearne giggles, and Dariax slumps in relief. "Not wolves," she says, and pats him on the shoulder. The light around them fades like an ember dying, and they sit and watch the forest wake up around them.

Dariax is feeling very proud of himself for smooth-talking the smith into a discount. His spear is looking sharp and shiny, and he picked up some new daggers for Opal with the extra cash he'd saved. They're just normal, not as pink as her favorites, but pretty good all the same.

He'd offered to get Dorian's axe sharpened as well, but apparently it doesn't work that way.

He's heading back to their spot, following the sunset down the main road, when he hears a noise from an alleyway to his left. It's soft, but as he listens closer, it resolves into music, an unfamiliar melody that seems to draw him in.

Dariax shakes his head and turns back down the well-lit, populated main road, which has no suspicious music.

He takes a few steps away.

He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten, but that doesn't make him move any farther down the main street.

He turns to the alley. He turns away. He takes out his compass rose and shakes it, listening to the music all the while. It has a rhythm, but the single notes feel lonely, like it's supposed to be part of a larger piece.

The needle settles, and points straight down the alley. Dariax follows.

There's a little garden at the end of the alley. It's full of flowers he thinks that Fearne would love, and a fountain gurgling cheerfully in the center.

He doesn't try to move sneakily, but Dorian's eyes are closed when Dariax comes around the corner, flute raised to his lips, a focused expression on his face as he repeats a phrase before moving on.

Dariax stands and watches quietly for a moment, swept up in the music, before he clears his throat. Dorian startles and the music ends in a squeak.

"Sorry," Dariax says into the sudden, awkward quiet. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Dorian fixes on a blinding smile and gives his cape a little flourish, sliding the flute back onto his belt. "Nonsense, my friend! I was just it was time for me to rejoin the group."

He slides past Dariax and starts back down the alleyway. Confused, Dariax looks regretfully at the little garden and hurries to catch up with his long-legged friend.

"You know, I can't play the flute or sing too well, but I bet I could beat on a drum, or a tambourine or something." He searches for the right words as Dorian keeps moving. "If you wanted some accompaniment someday. That song sounded, I don't know. Lonely?"

"Oh," Dorian says quietly. He stops and turns to Dariax. "I suppose it does."

"I bet Opal can sing alright," Dariax muses.

"And Little Mister can play the piano?"

Dariax scowls. "I don't know about that. I just mean, you don't have to play alone all the time. Just, keep that in mind."

Dorian gives him a real smile now, small but honest. "Thank you, I will."