Chapter Text
Grian blearily wiped his eyes and sat up after the best night of sleep he could remember having. He stretched, his shoulders popping, and looked around the room for Scar, his heart sinking when he noticed that he was gone. The next thing he noticed was that so were all of Scar’s things, except for a few gold pieces placed on the dresser next to Grian’s bed.
“sh*t,” he cursed, jumping up and picking up his small bag on the floor, as well as the gold pieces. He opened the door and ran downstairs, opening the front door of the inn to see a bustling crowd of people, already up and going about their day.
Grian ran a hand through his hair. How was he going to find Scar? The vision had told him that they were important in his quest, but that possible future wouldn’t come true if he lost the mercenary first.
The short man leaned against the wall, thinking about where Scar would have gone. If he’d taken all of his stuff out of the inn, that meant he was only staying for one night - could he still be at the bounty board? There was a bulletin board a few blocks away in the town square containing quests and bounties from the neighboring region.
Trying to stop himself from panicking, Grian began to work his way through the crowd, but most people were heading away from the town square in order to get to work, forcing him to try and fight against the crowd. Frustrated by how little progress he’d made, he turned down an alleyway and easily climbed up the wall and onto the rooftops, easily finding the handholds he’d used for years without a second thought. He began to run along the roof, feet pounding in time with his increasing heartbeat.
Grian skidded to a stop as he reached the town square, almost sobbing with relief when he stopped a familiarly extravagant green coat amidst the crowd surrounding the bounty board. “Scar!” he called out to no avail.
Letting out a frustrated huff, he grabbed on to the edge of the roof and dangled his legs off before letting himself drop, bending his knees but still grunting at the force of the impact. The thief turned around and began to make his way through the crowd, occasionally stretching to peer over the mass of people and carts to make sure he was still heading in the right direction.
Eventually he reached his target - by running right into him. He slammed face first into Scar’s shoulder and immediately reared back, hand’s coming up defensively.
Scar whipped his head around so find his assailant, his eyes widening as he saw who his attacker was. “Oh! Grian! Nice to see you again!” he said with a smile, clearly still startled at the man’s sudden appearance and undoubtedly slovenly appearance (in his defense, he’d woken up less than five minutes ago).
“Oh, thank the gods, Scar, I thought you’d already left,” Grian breathed out with a sigh, running a hand through his hair before giving up on fixing the tangled mess. “I, uh, rethought your offer. About joining your mercenary group, I mean.”
Scar raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile poking through. “And?”
“If you’ll have me, it- it wouldn’t hurt to have something to do.”
Laughing, Scar shook his head. “Only out of boredom, eh?” He embraced Grian tightly before he could react and Grian felt his face quickly flush, pulling away as soon as he could.
“Yeah, that’s the only reason. Do you want your gold back if I’m coming with you?” he asked as he dug through his bag and pulled out the pieces, offering them to Scar; he didn’t really want to owe this man anything else.
Scar closed his hand over the coins. “No, you keep them, I have enough. Besides, we should probably get you some new equipment before we go, no? Bdubs is picking out some horses right now, Cleo is finding a wagon, and I don’t think the other two are up yet, so we’ve got some time to kill.”
“Yeah, that’d be okay.”
>>>============>
Scar watched curiously as the man flicked through the racks of clothing, the tailor standing in the back and watching with a look of disgust he didn’t hide very well. Grian grabbed onto a bright red vest and pulled it out, examining it before looking to Scar.
He shrugged. “Looks good to me. Do you want anything else?”
Grian looked down at the handful of items he’d selected; a long sleeve cream button down, the red vest, and a purple scarf to replace the ratty red one he wore currently. “No, I’m happy with this. Besides, I think these are all I can afford.”
“Are you sure?” Scar pressed. “We could also stop at the optometrist and get you a new pair of glasses.”
Grian frowned and reached up to brush his fingers against his current spectacles, a round brass pair. “What’s wrong with my glasses?
“Nothing, they’re just a little beat up!” Scar laughed, holding up his hands defensively. “Sorry for any insult, they’re great glasses.”
“I know,” Grian said smugly before looking back down at his selection. “No, I think this is enough. Could I get these fitted please?” he asked, directing his last sentence to the snooty tailor still standing silently.
The tailor nodded stiffly and walked Grian over to a circle of mirrors. After ten minutes, he took the vest and shirt and vanished into the back room.
“I’ll pay extra if you hurry,” Scar called after him. “We’ve got a wagon to catch.” He walked over to the waiting area and patted the seat next to him on the couch.
Grian sat down across from him instead. “So did you pick a quest?”
“I did!” Scar said with a grin, extricating the flier he’d pulled off of the bounty board from his pocket and sliding it across the coffee table to Grian.
“‘Tumble Town,’” Grian read aloud. “‘Help needed to deal with wyvern attacks. Will pay forty gold to whatever group kills the offending wyvern.’ A wyvern? Are you crazy?”
Scar shrugged. “I think we could probably handle it with five, and with a sixth person it should be a piece of cake.”
“I’m flattered,” Grian scoffed, “but I don’t think I can do much against a wyvern.”
“You almost beat me,” Scar offered, taking the poster back and offering what he hoped to be a supportive smile. “Besides, we need to show you off to the rest of the crew.”
Grian blushed. “Keyword ‘almost.’ I’ve never fought as part of a team before - well, at least not in a while, and certainly not with mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries?” Scar gasped, offended. “Is that what you think I am?”
“Well, yes? How would you describe your work?”
“We are heroes for hire!” Scar shouted, standing up and ignoring the other customers turning to look at him. “Fighting against evil and protecting the little guy, especially if he can pay us!”
“Scar, sit down!” Grian hissed, giving an apologetic wave to the other customers. “Okay, fine, I’ve never been a hero for hire before.”
“It’s not hard. Just don’t die. And also don’t kill any of my friends. Or any bystanders. And in this specific case, stay away from the tail. Bdubs can do some basic healing, but not enough to stop wyvern poison.”
Grian groaned, holding his head in his hands and leaning back but clearly holding back a laugh. “I need you to understand that you just told me that it was easy to be a ‘hero for hire’ and then mentioned several very difficult things I need to do.”
“Are you known for frequently causing casualties?” Scar chuckled.
“I was more worried about dying or being poisoned, but you’re right, Scar, I can at least manage that part,” Grian said sarcastically, a laugh slipping out before he could stop it. It was a nice laugh.
>>>============>
Grian shuffled awkwardly and tugged at his new collar as he waited, leaning against a wooden post on the outskirts of the city.
“They’ll be here any minute now,” Scar insisted, scanning the streets for the crew that was supposed to have arrived half an hour ago. Upon catching the side eye Grian gave him, he playfully punched his shoulder. “Really, don’t look at me like that! I bet Bdubs just had to tie his shoe or something.”
Grian started to question how long it took whoever Bdubs was to tie his shoe, but was interrupted as Scar suddenly jumped up and excitedly pointed towards a cart rolling towards them, pulled by two horses.
“There they are!” he shouted, waving at them enthusiastically.
Two horses, one white and one brown, pulled a small covered wagon towards them. A man wrapped in leaves and moss over a chestplate formed out of thin strips of wood waved back at Scar from atop one of the horses. A man dressed mostly in dark blue cloth with a light gray vest on and a mask covering the bottom half of his face walked next to him, holding his hand. Two women sat in the front of the caravan, one wearing dark armor and the other wearing some sort of mage’s garb.
“Scar, meet Lulu and Mi Amore!” the moss man shouted excitedly, stroking the horses’ manes with a wide smile. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, nodding towards Grian.
Grian smiled awkwardly, feeling very out of place, and raised a hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Grian. Scar invited me to join your, uh, team?”
The masked man raised an eyebrow at Scar before shrugging. He stuck out a hand and said, “I’m Etho. We’ll be happy to have you. What can you do?”
Grian began to answer before Scar interrupted, “What can’t he do? He pickpocketed me and then almost beat me in a fight!”
“So you’re a thief?” Etho asked, brow furrowed suspiciously.
“Not by choice,” Grian hurriedly answered. “I just kind of… did what I needed to in order to survive, I guess. You can trust me.”
“That’s exactly what you would say if we couldn’t trust you!” the moss man shouted. “I’m Bdubs, by the way. Don’t take my stuff.”
“I’m not going to-”
“Which is exactly what you would say if you WERE going to steal my stuff.”
“Back off, Bdubs,” Scar laughed. “I trust him.”
The armored woman stepped down from the carriage and nodded at him. “I’m Cleo.”
“Also known as ‘The Zombie’,” Bdubs added helpfully
Now that he mentioned it, Grian did notice that Cleo’s skin was a strange shade of greenish-gray and she was covered in scars. Interesting.
“And I’m Gem,” added the final member of the crew. If Grian had any doubts that she was a wizard before, the elk antlers sprouting from her head quenched them. Physical alterations such as unnatural eye color, which he noticed in Etho’s singular red eye, and horns and other strange quirks typically not found in humans indicated an overexposure to the Ink.
Scar clapped his hands together. “Well, now that you’ve met the gang, are you ready to go?”
Grian took one last look at the town he’d been stuck in for two years and nodded. Good riddance.
>>>============>
The wagon rumbled beneath him as Grian sat on the bench, staring out the window across from him and paying very little attention to the conversations around him. Gem was telling Scar about how she’d spilled some ink on her spellbook yesterday and her teleportation incantations were ruined. Bdubs sat up front with Cleo, pointing out the different types of trees and telling her what their favorite type of soil was.
He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts as Etho sat down across from him and cleared his throat. “So, Grian, was it? Scar said you were a pickpocket?”
“Yeah,” Grian sighed, “but really, I promise I’m not going to steal anything. I’m really grateful for this opportunity and I don’t want to mess it up.”
“No judgment,” Etho said, holding up his hands. Even with the mask on his face, he was expressive enough with his body language that Grian could still read him pretty easily. “I was in a similar place for a long time, that’s sort of my role in our group.” He pointed at each member as he spoke. “I’m the thief, Scar’s the face and the leader, Gem’s the wizard, Cleo’s the warrior, and Bdubs is our druid.”
Grian couldn’t help notice that the list had every important area covered. “Cool,” he stated simply, unsure why Etho was telling him this but not wanting to be rude.
“Can I see how skilled you are?” Etho asked, pulling out a padlock from his bag.
“I broke my last lockpick a few weeks ago, do you have a set I could borrow…?” Grian asked, hesitantly taking the padlock and examining it.
Wordlessly, Etho pulled out a leather case and handed it to Grian, who opened it to find the nicest set of lockpicks he’d ever seen. Now he really couldn’t mess up, unless he wanted to be set back a gold piece.
He selected his tools and began to work on the lock, sweating as he fidgeted around to find the pins until after several excruciating minutes, the lock popped open.
Etho made a noise that sounded mildly impressed, which made Grian annoyingly proud of the fairly slow achievement. “That was pretty good, I can tell you haven’t had any formal training though. Can I show you a trick?”
Surprised, Grian nodded, and Etho spent the next while directing Grian to hold his hands and tools at a different angle, repeatedly picking the lock until he had gotten his time down to almost a minute.
“You’re a fast learner,” Etho praised, and Grian again felt weirdly proud. He went to hand back the picks, but Etho held up a hand. “Keep them.”
“No way, these are worth more than anything I’ve ever owned,” Grian insisted, holding them out again.
Etho raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, that vest looks pretty nice.”
“That doesn’t count, Scar just got it for me.”
“He does like buying people gifts. Seriously, though, keep them. You need to practice, and that’s not my main set. I have plenty of others.” Etho punctuated his statement by leaning over and rolling up his right pant leg, revealing the Ink tattooed in the shape of a lockpicking set on the side of his calf. “It’s good to get a set Inked in so that you can access them at any time. Do you have any tattoos?”
“I do,” Grian said, setting down the lockpicking set so he could roll up his sleeves and show off his daggers. He pointedly neglected to mention the massive tattoo covering the width of his back and the Eye on his chest, both recognizable features of a Watcher. “I also have a Speed Sigil on my wrist.”
“Those are some quality tattoos for a pickpocket,” Etho acknowledged, but he thankfully didn’t push any further. “As a rogue, you’ll spend a lot of time working in the dark; I’d recommend getting a True Sight Sigil if you can.”
“Good idea,” Grian said, though he had no intention of getting a True Sight Sigil when he had the improved version of it hidden beneath his shirt. “Thanks for your help, Etho. Seriously.”
“No worries,” Etho said, standing up. “Good to have you on the team.” And with that, he walked up to the front to save Cleo from hearing about each of the four thousand types of grass native to the isles.
Grian went back to the window, pleasantly surprised by his own ability to make friends, despite having not talked to basically anyone for longer than a few minutes since he’d escaped. As he stared out the window, Grian watched the dark forest, the leaves blocking out the setting sun and shrouding the brush in shadows. And yet, in the darkness Grian caught a glimpse of movement. Something moving fast.
“Guys?” he called out, silencing the conversations that had previously occupied the wagon until all that could be heard was the noises of the horses hooves hitting the dirt path and the squeak of the wagon’s wheels. “I could be wrong, but I think something’s following us.”
Scar stood up and made his way to the window, activating his True Sight Sigil with a mumble and staring into the forest. “I don’t see anything,” he said, still watching. “Are you sure-”
“I saw movement,” Cleo called out. “On the other-”
And as she spoke, hell broke loose. Bdubs let out a shrill scream as three shadowy figures leapt out of the forest on either side of them, two from the left and one from the right.
“And that’s why the night vision wasn’t helping,” Scar sighed as he drew his bow. “Anybody know what these things are?”
Grian did, but he wasn’t about to explain what a Watcher’s Shadow was or why they were chasing them. Using his Eye last night must have allowed them to track him down in the city and tail them here until it became dark, when they were strongest. “I’ve read about creatures like them,” he said instead. “They can’t be hurt by normal weapons, but they don’t like light.”
Scar experimentally shot an arrow, which passed right through one of the creatures and embedded itself in the dusty road behind them. “Point proven. Cleo, you keep driving. Bdubs, keep the horses calm and see if you can give them strength.” Grian couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback as the funny and charming man he’d met last night vanished, replaced by a serious and calculating strategist. Etho and Gem, you two have the closest cantrips to Light - try and keep them at bay. Grian-” he started, before stopping. “I honestly don’t know what you should do. Do you have any cantrip tattoos?”
Grian shook his head. “I can wave the lantern at them? To try and stop them from getting too close?”
Scar shrugged. “Good idea.” He rolled up his sleeve and flexed his arm, his Force cantrip lighting up with white light. Raising his arm, Scar pushed, and Grian felt a ripple of Force move through the air, and the shadows burst into smoke. Scar laughed, but his joy quickly died as the shadows reformed in seconds.
Bdubs climbed onto Lulu and reached into his component bag before pulling out a fistful of ordinary looking dirt, drawing a complex series of lines and shapes on her back. He repeated the same design on Mi Amore, and after a whispered incantation, Grian felt the wagon lurch as the symbols lit up and the horses accelerated, legs flying at unnatural speeds.
“Scar, I don’t know how long I can keep this up!” Bdubs shouted, climbing back onto the wagon but keeping one hand on each of the horses.
Etho and Gem took their stances at the end of the wagon, each one unveiling a cantrip. Gem unleashed a crackling arc of electricity, which tore through the shadows and slowed them down, but didn’t do much else. “I couldn’t decide between a Light cantrip and this one,” she groaned, trying again but achieving similarly disappointing results. “I think I may have made the wrong choice.”
Etho joined in the defenses by launching a bolt of fire, though interestingly, the flames emanating from his right hand were a pale shade of blue that Grian didn’t see often. The flames were about as effective as the lightning, in that they scared them away, but didn’t do any lasting damage.
Scar surveyed the scene, focusing intently. “Gem, do you have any light spells in your spellbook?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then get us out of here. Grian, take her place and hold out that lantern.”
Gem ran to the middle of the wagon and dropped to her knees, pulling out multiple vials and outlining a spell circle. Grian took the oil lantern he held and stood next to Etho, bracing his left arm against the handhold on the side of the wagon and hanging forwards to extend the lantern as far forwards as possible.
The shadows continued to throw themselves forwards, but each time were pushed back by the light of Grian’s lantern or a blast of fire from Etho. And for a second, Grian felt hopeful, until the wagon hit a rock, and his fingers slipped. The lantern crashed to the ground and exploded, splattering burning oil across the ground behind them as they raced away. And with that, the shadows began slowly making progress.
“sh*t,” he cursed. “Scar, I-I dropped the lantern, I’m so sorry-”
“Move, Grian,” Scar said aggressively, stepping up and letting out another wave of force, again momentarily destroying the shadows.
“I’m so, so sorry Scar,” Grian tried again, terrified.
“Grian, it’s okay, but I need you to sit down and stop distracting me,” Scar grunted, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face as he blasted the shadows again.
Grian winced and sat down on the floor, watching Gem complete the spell circle. One vial rolled away and almost out the back of the wagon before Grian caught it and handed it back. “Is that-”
“Thundersyrup,” Gem said. “Thanks for catching that.”
“Why the hell would you need that much Thundersyrup?” Grian asked, eyes wide. “If that had rolled off, this wagon wouldn’t be anything other than a patch of soot on the road.”
Gem snorted. “There wouldn’t be a road if that had rolled off, so nice catch. You never know when you’ll need it, though. It’s a useful catalyst if you dilute it, but it’s easier to store in its pure form.” She put the finishing touches on the complex rings and lines forming a teleportation circle that Grian recognized and put the vials back into her component pouch before pulling out her spellbook and flipping through the pages.
She quickly found the page, and immediately her face blanched with fear. Grian leaned forward to see, and saw that the page was completely black, save for the upper left corner.
“Scar, the… the teleportation incantations are covered in ink.”
Scar looked back at her, and for the first time Grian saw real fear in his eyes. “You have all of your teleportation spells on the same page? You don’t have anything else?”
“Yes, I keep them on the same page!” Gem snapped, dropping her book and pulling at her hair. “It’s easier to find them that way!” Her anger subsided and she dropped her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry, guys. I was going to recopy the pages last night, but I knew we were probably going to take the wagon and I was tired.”
“It’s not your fault, Gem,” Scar said firmly. “If anyone’s, it’s mine for taking us on this route. Bdubs, how are you doing up there?”
Bdubs did nothing but grunt in return, and Grian looked to see him hunched over the horses, the symbols on their back flickering weakly.
“Not well,” Cleo answered for him.
“Then we fight,” Scar stated with a grim expression. “I don’t know how long we can last, but I won’t let them touch any of you until they’ve gone through me. I’m sorry, everyone.” He turned to look at Grian and let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe you should’ve stayed home, eh, Grian?’
Grian shook his head. “It’s worth it to get out of that godforsaken town.” He hesitated - this was a risky move and could expose him, but he didn’t really want to die, and he especially didn’t want the nice people who’d taken him in to die because of him. “Gem, give me the book.”
Gem miserably handed him the book before dropping her head again and hugging her knees, staring blankly at the floor.
Grian took a deep breath and opened his Eye. Immediately, everything became so much louder as every grain of salt in the spell circle became distinct. He saw the string of magic connecting Bdubs to the horses flicker faintly. He saw Cleo keep her attention focused on the horizon and her hands on the reign, but he saw a crack of fear through her stern exterior. And he saw the book.
Grian reached down and placed a hand on the book, staring at the black page and concentrating. And just like that, the ridges in the page became obvious to him, because even if the entire page was the same color, the marks hand carved by the nib of a pen still remained on the page, though they were too fine to be seen with the naked eye. Only partially understanding the words he was reading, Grian began to read out the incantation that was labeled Tumble Town.
As he finished the first line, he saw Scar and Etho stopping their defenses briefly to watch him before remembering the shadows pursuing them. Gem stared at him incredulously and the faint purple light showing through his vest as he continued to read the incantation. As he reached the last line, his voice increased in volume on its own until he was yelling, and as he shouted the final word, he slammed his palm down onto the spell circle and everything went white.
