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hailsatanacab · 5 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batpham #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #look. this has been in my mind for so long guys so long - and idk if its canon that the batfam have codes for time travel situations or what #but i feel like ive seen it before and if its not canon it should be #so here - how i think that would be funny to go down #i have so many thoughts about TUE and its place in a dpxdc crossover like holy shit there's so many ways it can go!!#i have another wip in the works thats kinda similar to this but with superman and i cannot wait to work on it again #there are so many ways i wanted this to go but i just couldnt get there - i wanted to keep it on the shorter side but like #perhaps ill have to expand #i just love the idea that like. theres a stranger at your table who knows you and knows you well. who knows the secret that youd die to keep #there's a stranger at your table and he says something and you know he's family. you know you're strangers but now...#now you have to be something more #oh man theres so many juicy ways it can go and I KNOW I DID NONE OF THEM #i want to write this whole plot again and make it angstier #(me with everything)#anyway! sorry love you all hope you enjoy it!!

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babybluesquid · 1 year

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Consequences of Karrnath Session 27

Affection Strained to Breaking!

Our Players this week:

Dagne, Vengeance Paladin, an undead soldier created by the Odakyr Rites, but is now something else entirely. They are a Seeker sworn to protect the living. Has a skeleton horse mount from Find Steed named Coffin. They are the party leader and reluctantly serve under King Kaius III. Can be abrasive and dishonest, but they are ultimately kind.

Vaeren, Swarmkeeper Ranger, a blind Deathguard sent to investigate Dagne’s nature. They keep a spirit idol with five spirits of dead Deathguard: Galan, Kerxna, Paeral, Aelrie, and Nym, who can allow them to see, but from a third person point of view. They’re contemplative and disciplined, helping Dagne keep the party in line.

Syv, Glamour Bard, a traveling performer turned traveling adventurer. Her personas are Eshi, a sea elf, and Star, a shifter. They’re generally positive with a bit of a mischievous streak and hold a strong sense of justice, especially where they see discrimination against changelings. She is generally supportive of the whole group, emotionally and in combat.

Intending to join the new force, the undead combating Dagne disengages. As the thing falls back though, Dagne strikes it, hooks it by the back, and drags it back into place. Undisturbed, the thing reports to its companions, “Dagne prevents exit. Be cautious.” Two of the four reinforcements advance on Syv and Vaeren, both targeting the former. She avoids a forward thrust of a halberd, takes a cut to the shoulder, parries a second attack with her rapier, dodges a swing, gets clipped in the arm, and then takes a stab through the armor. Fortunately, the wounds are all superficial. Meanwhile, an archer lines up a shot against Vaeren, then two more. Nym intercepts two of the arrows, but the third strikes their armor. It doesn’t penetrate, only bruising them.

Fearing the situation will turn deadly, Syv desperately plucks out a tune on their kalimba as the undead attack. In the air above the enemies, and Dagne, a pattern of swirling colors and confusing shapes takes form. All are entranced, aside from Dagne, the archer, and one of the undead engaging Syv. One advances on Dagne, stabbing at them. Dagne hooks their poleaxe in its halberd. When it gets its weapon free, it attempts to hook Dagne, but once again gets tangled up. In that position, however, it manages to stab into the underside of Dagne’s elbow, slicing through their gambeson. They retaliate immediately, tripping it, then crushing its ribcage while it’s down with two powerful swings. It dies.

With it defeated, Dagne advances on the archer. It drops its bow and draws an arming sword, then tries to rush Vaeren. It’s stopped in its tracks when Dagne hooks it ad drags it back, reeling. Another undead skirts around them to attack Vaeren and Syv. Vaeren stabs it in both of its eye sockets, then Galan emerges from the spirit idol. He points his ghostly staff at the thing, and a magical hand shoots out and pushes it back, right into Dagne’s deadly sphere of influence and out of range of Syv and Vaeren. Suddenly, one shakes off Syv’s charm and then chops downwards at her! She just barely manages to step forward, so the axe swing that would’ve cleaved her skull ends up striking her with the pole of the halberd. The force knocks her out, and she crumbles to the ground. The undead then turns on Vaeren and thrusts, they parry but end up getting gashed on the arm as it draws its polearm back. A moment later, another wakes and turns on Dagne. It tries to hook them, but they step aside, it thrusts forward and the parry, then tries to cut them, but Dagne comes in close to avoid the strike.

Syv makes a death save. Nat 20.

Surprising the undead as she comes to her feet, Syv disengages and runs away from the melee, casting a healing word upon herself as she flees. Seeing her out of danger, Dagne enters a defensive stance and then attacks the undead in melee with Vaeren. They strike its leg, staggering it, then bring the poleaxe up to slam it in the shoulder, causing it to reel further back. The archer thrusts its arming sword right for their eye socket, but Dagne headbutts into the strike, before slapping the blade down and turning their arm to avoid its other attempts to get a hit in.

Still, another undead moves at Vaeren. It thrusts, and Vaeren turns aside its halberd with their rapier. Then, it attempts a drawcut, which Aelrie emerges to block, and a hook, which Vaeren dodges. Unafraid of the undead in front of them, Vaeren hurriedly draws Oathbreaker and fired at Dagne’s last target. Two radiant arrows explode against it, each impact driving it backwards a step and scorching its armor and bones. Two of the undead engaging Dagne attack at once, attempting to overwhelm them. However, Dagne blocks them at every turn, avoiding every strike except for one to the hip, and another hooking them behind the helmet. Still, they do not fall.

“Go Dagne!” Syv yells to bolster their defense, “I believe in you!” Then, they begin to play a song, focusing all their magic on one point: themselves. They strain the instrument to the highest volume it can achieve, slamming out the notes, feeling the crescendo as the music grows in force. Then, they grow. Syv extends and elongates, growing massive, standing above the street, a thunderherder. She turns her long neck towards the skeletons, raising one massive foot.

In light of their transformation, the archer begins to flee, barely avoiding Syv’s heavy stomp. Dagne stabs it with their spearpoint as it goes, and the thing wheels back around, understanding that they won’t allow flight. One stabs Syv in the leg, thrice, and only the third strike penetrates her thick skin. It seems to have no effect regardless. Vaeren fires two more arrows of light into another undead. Two more try to flee, but Dagne stops each in turn. Trapped, they stab at Syv. She slaps one with her tail, but it ducks under the swing just in time. Taking the opportunity, Dagne thrusts at it. Surprisingly, it isn’t caught off guard, and drives the strike upwards with its arming sword. Dagne draws away and then suddenly, brutally slams in in the side of its head. Its skull shatters in its helmet, and it falls dead. As this happens, the archer takes the opportunity to flee, narrowly missing Dagne’s attack.

Another tries its luck, but Dagne chops its leg, half-severing its bone. Vaeren follows that up by blowing its head off with a radiant arrow, then fires on another undead, exploding it in golden light. Both are burned to death. Finally, Syv advances on the last undead and sweeps it with her fail. It goes flying, striking the fleeing archer when it crashes back down. Neither rise. Upon checking, both were killed on the impact.

Then, in the distance, red flashes of light catch the party’s attention. They originate from the apex of the Crimson Monastery, firing down into the streets. The party guesses that its killing the undead, and decide to approach, riding Syv in the form of a thunderherder. As they progress through the streets, the party hears distant skirmishes between the city garrison and the undead force. Then, there is a street battle ahead. Twelve undead soldiers face twelve men, the remains of a force that used to be nearly double that, wearing red masks and carrying banners bearing an octogram and a symbol with an eye and three blades. They’re Red Watchers.

At Dagne’s behest, Syv drops her thunderherder form and then hurriedly spellcasts again, creating a song and a mystifying pattern above all the combatants. Instantly, all but three of the undead and three of the Red Watchers stop in their tracks, stupified by the magical display. Dagne runs up to one of the aware undead and splits its skull. Vaeren picks out another and shoots it, once, twice, three times, six times total, reducing it to ash. Syv and the three watchers gang up on the third, killing it. Quickly, the party goes about cutting down the nine enchanted undead, as well as disarming and tying up the Red Watchers. Alarmed by the sudden turn, one asks, “why are you tying us up? We’re trying to help.” “We don’t need help from the likes of you,” Dagne replies.

The party continues through the streets. Up ahead, a large force of undead is arrayed, fifty at least. But they don’t seem aggressive, and in fact are fighting against the undead soldiers. As the party approaches, the group seems to recognize them and doesn’t react with hostility. Then, a centipede-like amalgam of bones scitters into view, ridden by a young dwarf in chainmail and wielding a battleaxe. Dark ribbons cover half his face and arm. The new Bone Guardian has armor mixed into it and swords for teeth in its maw, seemingly made mostly of defeated Karrnathi undead soldiers.

“Hynek Mazal!” Dagne shouts in recognition. “That would be correct, it’s me. Things have been maddening the past few months, I would say,” in spite of his reply, he sounds remarkably calmer and more confident than he was all those months ago when the party encountered him in the Icewood. “What happened here?” “The Ministry of Dead responded to King Kaius’ order to dissolve. They’ve gone rogue. I left and have been trying to bring people to safety in the Crimson Monastery. I think they’re trying to take the city.” Dagne nods, “good work, keep it up As it stands, you seem to be the strongest force here.” He shakes his head, “the strongest force is holed up in the pyramid mostly, the garrison, some veterans, and a divine power burning away the undead that try to get in.” “Well, that’s where we’re headed. Good luck out here.”

As the party approaches the Crimson Monastery, they notice patches of ash, the spots where advancing undead were reduced to nothing. Directly outside the building, soldiers stand guard in a tight formation, Seekers proudly bearing holy symbols among them. Undead approach, and they draw their weapons, but a red beam obliterates these too, and they stand down. As the party approaches, a woman in brilliant silver armor emerges from the crowd. She wears a glamoured golden ring on her finger. She heads straight for Dagne, and then punches their visor with her gauntleted fist.

“Ivara,” Dagne says in a nonchalant tone. “Well, I’ll be damned. As captain of the royal garrison, I order you to get inside and out of my sight,” her voice is seething with controlled anger. “Yes sir.” As the party enters, Ivara and her subordinates take the Red Watcher prisoners and untie them, ordering them to join the ranks of the Crimson Monastery’s guard. They comply.

Inside, many of Atur’s civilians sit and stand in apprehension. Among them, many are wounded, and the guides tend to them. As the party passes, the faces of the citizens show recognition, but nobody approaches. Dagne looks around the room and spots Nenad Rukavina. They walk up to him as he bandages a severed hand.

“Hello again, Dagne,” his voice is tired, but strong, “I assume you’ve seen what’s happening.” “Correct.” “It’s started just now. We’ve been discussing staying here till reinforcements arrive, but these first few hours have been hard on the populous.” “You had some forewarning?” Nenad frowns, beginning to walk as he talks, “no, it came on us suddenly. It was all we could to to rush to the monastery. News had probably reached the army at this point though, so we shouldn’t be trapped here for too long.” Dagne pauses, then admits, “they’re after me.” “That’s concerning.” “Indeed.” “In that case, you should probably lay low. Stay here until the army comes and relieves the city.” Dagne continues, “I know why they’re after me. It seems obvious that as the proof of their sins, they need me eradicated.” He nods, “it is likely that the information you hold would turn away their allies.”

The two reach a quiet place, away from external conversation and prying ears, here, Dagne tells Nenad in a hushed tone, “I still have my soul. What does it mean?” Confused, he asks, “how do you know this?” “I remembered, I remember the Odakyr Rites.” Nenad’s black eyes become wide pits, “elaborate on the process then.” “As Al- I was dying, I was bound within my body. And there is something else, it knows me, what I know.” “That is concerning. Any idea of what it could be?” “No. What’s more, this is no accident. Dragons did this to me.” A couple beats pass as Nenad processes the claim, “you mean, made you more conscious than the rest of the undead soldiers? Dragons, you say. Never put it past them to do what can’t be explained.” “So what does it mean?” Dagne reiterates urgently.

Nenad considers the question for a long moment, then shrugs, “if you still have your soul, then that’s something which has never happened before. It can’t be know what it means, but, hopefully, since you can’t age and won’t die, you could find the end of the path. It’s a remarkable chance that you might bring down the tyranny of death at last.” The possibility leaves Dagne reeling for a moment, before they ground themselves, “but I’m not alive.” “That is why we don’t know. There is a small spark within you, but it could not be active without the vital flowing blood. It’s unclear what this means,” he says again, “no other martyrs still possess this spark.” “But… what if all my kind do?” Nenad scoffs, “if they all do, why are they reduced to implements of murder rather than people like you?” For a moment, Dagne grasps at nothing, then comes across the explanation, “it must be the other presence.” “After this is dealt with, I’d like you to find me,” Nenad urges, “follow me into the catacombs beneath the pyramid. There are others who know more that I do there. You should also stop adventuring, we don’t want you to die before we’re sure. It’s a chance that the living don’t deserve to lose.” “Understood.”

Vaeren stands nervously off to the side, while Syv absentmindedly plucks out a tune on her kalimba. Dagne returns to them when their conversation is over, but says nothing about its contents. Then, Vaeren spots a glint of gold across the hall, striding imperiously toward them. The figure wears a golden mask, identifying them as a priest of the Undying Court, a cuirass, golden bracelets embedded with red stones, and has a curved blade at their hip. Vaeren recognizes their eldest sister, the head of their family, Caira Daelion, immediately.

She approaches Vaeren, “hello, sister, it’s great to see you again.” Vaeren’s voice is a model of neutrality, “hello, Caira, surprising to see you here,” as Caira had been stationed on Sarlona, not Khorvaire. “I've been in Atur for a few months,” she explains, “since the situation on this continent and in Karrnath has been devolving. I’m here to activate our failsafe placed in these undead. However, I need to be in the vaults to do it. We can push through and disable the whole army in one action.” “It’s going to be tough to get out there and, though it’s a good idea, it makes me wonder how it’ll effect my mission.”

Caira dismisses the thought out of hand, “your mission is of little consequence. It was more a test to see how you’d operate for a long period on your own. The Undying Court has little care for Dagne. Now, we still need to convince the campatin of the garrison here to push for the vaults.” Vaeren’s face falls, but their mask obscures their disappointment, “oh, more tests, makes sense. Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to find the captain. She’s outside guarding the entrance.” Caira nods, she already knows, “there’s probably some other authority to talk to in the pyramid. Do you have any knowledge of this authority?” “Well, Dagne would know.”

The moment Vaeren utters those words, Caira is already striding towards Dagne. Vaeren follows. “Greetings to you, Dagne. I am Guardian Caira. I’m told you know the highest authority in the Crimson Monastery. I need to speak to them.” Dagne looks her up and down for a moment before responding, “no.” Undeterred, she continues, “my task here is the neutralize the undead force terrorizing this city. To do this, I need to speak to the captain of the garrison and the highest authority in the Crimson Pyramid. Once again, I ask who this is.” “Be gone from here, Guardian. Leave my party alone.” “I do not see the purpose behind your impertinence. Are our goals not the same? You know what was done to the undead. If we enact it, it will do great good to the people of Karrnath: there won’t be an army of heartless killers drawing the life out of the world.” When they do not respond, Vaeren jumps in, “Dagne, she needs your assistance. There is a failsafe, but she needs to talk to them in order for it to work.” “No. Mind your business. Get out of my country,” Dagne says bluntly. It seems their continued refusal is starting to anger Caira, “I would sooner incinerate you than speak to you, but given the circumstances I won’t. Now, will you tell me anything or will I have to look for other avenues?” “Get out out here, witch,” Dagne lets the insulting misnomer hang for a moment, “none of your meddling has been to our benefit. You serve yourselves alone.” “Alright, Dagne, you need to shut the fuck up. Tell her to leave and I’ll go with. And my apologies, Caira, I didn’t know they were still acting like a bitch,” Vaeren says pointedly.

“One would expect this ignorance from a Khorvairan,” Caira says derisively, “are you aware of the threat of the Vampire Queen Milenka in the city of Korth in 800 YK?” “I don’t care about your anecdotes. Get out of my church,” Dagne warns. Caira ignores them, “she killed dozens before I brought her down with my companions. Do you know how many times the undead have threatened your people and how many times the Deathguard stepped in to protect Khorvaire? Of course you don’t. There’s aa reason we are stationed across the world. The creatures of Mabar threaten it and life itself. How can you, a creature of dark power yourself, lecture me on the level of assistance I give to the living people here?”

“You claim we share a goal, but also admit you’d sooner incinerate me than work by my side. That makes you no ally, and our purposes are not the same. I will not betray secrets of my faith to you. If that means losing Vaeren, so be it,” Dagne declares, before looking to Vaeren, “I would prefer if you choose to remain by my side, though. Please trust me.” Caira also looks at them, her golden mask seemingly burning holes through Vaeren’s wooden one, “remember whom we trust in the most.” Under that scrutiny, Vaeren answers, “I’m staying with this party, but not for your sake. I don’t know that I want to trust you.” “Of course you can remain on your mission,” Caira agrees sweetly, “but first I ask that you come with me to find the authority here.” “Alright, I’m coming with you.” “No,” Dagne commands, “this information puts my community at risk. I cannot allow you to-” “Silence!” Caira gestures at Dagne and suddenly they’re unable to speak, “let’s get going.” Vaeren turns to Syv, “I’ll be back, I promise.” As Dagne’s voice returns, they hurry to warn the guides: the Deathguard are after Abactor Radosav. Syv leans towards them, “what the fuck just happened?” “They betrayed me. Now let’s hurry, we can’t let them find the Abactor,” Dagne explains. Syv stops short, “so, Vaeren’s leaving?” “I’ll be damned if I let this slide. They’ve gone too far.” “But they’ll come back, right?” “As long as they’re Deathguard, no,” Dagne declares. “I can’t have another person leave,” Syv counters in desperation. “And as long as their interests conflict, I cannot trust them to stay.” Syv opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it.

As Vaeren and Caira search the pyramid, she strikes up another conversation, perhaps seeking to ease the tension, “you’ve done quite well since you came to Khorvaire.” Warily, Vaeren responds, “yet you say it was all a test, not really of any significance.” “Tests are important. You’re still fairly new. The Wardens need to know how you do. There aren’t many Deathguard because of the trials required to join. Initial training doesn’t reflect the field, so after that real training begins, and when you get through that, you become known and respected. You’re doing well, it’ll probably take you less time to achieve that level than I did. The Warden of Khorvaire has been remarkably impressed with you.” “Clearly, battles here are much tougher than back home, but it’s food to know I’m doing well…” Vaeren is unable to fight the weariness in their tone, “I suppose.”

Noticing their hestiance, Caira continues with a reassuring smile, “consider this: finish this mission up, do a couple more, and then destroy a powerful undead, informal requirement you know, and you’ll join the rest of your family as a proper Deathguard.” Vaeren nods, “I want to make you all proud, if that’s possible. I want to climb the ranks and join you all.” They’re lying, and Caira does not catch it, instead she changes the subject, “are you ready for Dagne to snap? They all do. Eventually the power of Mabar drives one to kill. It’s inherently malevolent.” “I suppose, though I’m not sure that will happen to them. They don’t operate the same way.” “You should expect it. It’s nature. Eventually they all go, it’s why we bring them down before then. You wouldn’t want to leave a rapid dog alive.” “Alright, I suppose you’re right,” Vaeren lies. This time, Caira notices, “you’ve gotten too close to them, it’s creating a conflict of interest. You shouldn’t care about them. You should be ready to do your job once they turn or upon such orders.”

“If, Caira,” Vaeren is filled with exasperation, “if they turn. You don’t know what’s happening. You can’t tell me how to feel about your party.” Caira scoffs, “I’ve lived long enough to see it happen over and over again. The intelligent ones seem as people, but empathy and caring erodes with time. Eventually, you need to stop the threat. Why would you think Dagne is any different? The only thing remotely similar is already a killing machine.” “No, they have my trust that they won’t turn,” Vaeren realizes as they utter it aloud, “I’ve been with them, I’ve seen them grow. You know nothing of the situation. You are in no state to talk about something you don’t know.” “A few more decades should wash this foolishness off you,” Caira states dismissively. Without another word, Vaeren turns and walks off, trying to find Dagne again. Caira does not follow them as they disappear into the crowd.

——————

Highlights:

Brontosyvous! Syv became a big old dinosaur heck yeah!

Hynek Mazal is back! But he didn’t come back to bite us, he came back to help. Yay.

Ivara knows Dagne is not Iura Josan and she decked them. Deserved.

Caira was just, amazing. Such an arrogant NPC, the type I love to talk to.The sheer audacity of asking Dagne for secret information about the Blood of Vol inside their own church has me floored.

Dagne was amazingly stubborn this time, but I don’t believe that they were unreasonable. For many sessions, the conflict between them and Vaeren has been building.

It hurt when Vaeren decided to go with their sister instead of Dagne. Understandable, but ow.

Syv’s question about whether Vaeren was leaving the party, followed by Dagne’s confirmation, hit really hard.

Vaeren’s deception against Caira was a nat 20. Her insight was also a nat 20, so she won.

Session 28.

#shit's going down #!!!!!!!!!!!!!#dnd #d&d #dnd campaign #d&d campaign #dnd story #d&d story #dungeons and dragons #my post #my writing #consequences of karrnath #eberron #dagne #vaeren #syv #session 27

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