Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

One feather jar, one blood jar, one water jar.

Predictably, the blood flowed the easiest.

With haste, they located a young, healthy, long-eared beast in the keep’s kennels. The kennels were in a tall, narrow building that leaned heavily against the keep’s outer walls. The main entrance was crowded by the kennel master and his comrades, all engaged in playing dice while the dogs within barked and bayed for a hunt. There turned out to be a small side entrance at the leftmost side of the building, however, presumably for ease of access for both safety and sanitary reasons. The door had been locked with a heavy bolt and padlock, grimed over with dust from disuse. Astarion had offered to pick it, but Lae’zel instead demanded he simply guide her from over her mental shoulder. So he had, and so they’d gained happily and quietly entrance.

Jaheira insisted on explaining to the animal what they were doing and why, which Lae’zel allowed but thought superfluous. It wasn’t as if the creature had an actual choice, after all. Jaheira then volunteered to hold it still while she could cut past its droopy dog-skin and into the thick meat of its hind leg. Before it even started properly wailing, the jar had been filled. Lae’zel sealed the jar while Jaheira, with a green flourish, sealed its gash. She then took the time to tell it that it was brave; finally, she ruffled its ugly, floppy ears, as though it were a pup and she its mother.

It was as amusing as it was a waste of time.

Fortunately, with how well the operation went, they had a little time to waste. Tucking the warm blood jar into her bag, Lae’zel clicked her tongue at Jaheira.

“Are you quite done fawning over the beast? Tell it good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Beste-of-All,” Jaheira told it, cutting Lae’zel a quick side-eye that Shadowheart, from the back of their joined minds, called sarcastic. “You are finer company than you know. Many could learn a thing or two from such a kind, courageous dog as you, who is willing to bleed for complete strangers.”

The dog barked, once. A low, deep-chested sound. Drool dripped from its jowls, and its watery eyes gazed up at Jaheira in glossy adoration. It stank like an unwashed, disease-prone beast.

It looked so… stupid.

Another’s thought drifted across her consciousness like a sigh, chill with wistful longing, I miss Scratch, from Karlach. Do you think he’s doing alright? We should’ve checked in on him before we left the city. Now I feel like shite that we didn’t check in.

I’m sure he’s keeping vigil over the owlbear, Wyll said, who was last with Dammon. A trio of fine company, too.

Dammon! Agh, I miss that guy too. Wish we could’ve checked in on him as well.

Still carrying a flame, are you? Shadowheart, teasing. Even after he tempered yours?

Especially after, you mean! But also, who wouldn’t? His jaw could’ve cut glass. He was a fire-hot blacksmith, too, all puns intended. Another sigh, more longing than wistful. Probably for the best with us stuck like this, but still. He was a good’n.

Dammon had many benefits to offer, Lae’zel agreed. The tiefling had been decent enough in strength and stature. Moreover, he’d been blindingly efficient and refreshingly straight-forward. Between Wyll and him, it seemed that Karlach had trustworthy taste. It is a shame we don’t have his skills with us now. Our weapons and armor would be half-way decent, had he joined us.

Yeah, that, too.

While they snuck into the kennels, Minsc had been charged with distracting the kennelmaster. He performed adequately, or so Lae’zel assumed, as no angry human showed up to accuse them of hurting his precious pooches. No one had re-locked the back door, either, or noticed that its padlock hung on an unhinged bolt.

Just as she had on their way in, Jaheira asked the dogs to not make extra noise on their way out. There was, Jaheira insisted, a big difference between dogs barking to talk and dogs barking to alert. Having little experience with them beyond their camp’s resilient, four-legged tag-along (who hadn’t barked just to bark, because he’d been very well-trained), Lae’zel had no choice but to believe her.

In any case, the dogs seemed to listen to her. At least, they barely paid them mind as they left, and again, no angry human showed up.

Lae’zel privately conceded that talking to animals was a useful trick. Less for information gathering, as they rarely knew anything useful about the two-legged beings around them; but for finding safe, easy, or lesser-traveled passages? There, they was beneficial.

I can’t believe this is a new revelation for you. Astarion, ever-bored and thus ever-chatty. The Blade’s been chirping at birds since we met him. He was nearly as bad as the druids.

Wyll, wry: Strong words, from His Majesty’s biggest fan.

Unlike the birds, that cat knew what he was about, and I was all about it.

Of course.

Speaking of birds – “Jaheira.”

With a non-committal ‘hm?’, Jaheira tilted her head til her ear pointed in her direction.

Lae’zel pushed down her instinct to demand her full attention, and focused on the quest at hand. “Your skills are singularly useful in two of our three tasks. While the hound was easy enough to locate, I have been told that a hummingbird is a small, flighty creature that does not like to be touched. With that in mind, if you were to turn into a hummingbird, would we not simply be able to harvest your feathers?”

“Hm! Can I turn into a little bird so that you might pluck me naked? A bold proposal, Lae’zel of Creche K’liir.”

“Bold seems like an exaggeration. It’s simply sensible, and time-effective.”

She could feel Karlach’s burgeoning displease at her proposal, knocking about her skull like an angry, buzzing insect, but she brushed it off as part of her embarrassingly over-eager concern for Jaheira’s approval.

“I suppose it would be that, if not for a few problems.”

“I fail to see any problems. Enlighten me.”

They continued walking until they were clear of the kennels’ view, stopping by a stack of open, empty barrels and crates. They’d linger there for enough time to ensure no uproar would be coming from the kennels, and then they’d walk past Minsc, which was their agreed-upon signal for him to abandon his distractions and re-join them. When they’d spoken of the (extremely simple) plan, Minsc had agreed whole-heartedly to its brilliance. Distracted though he admitted he might be with his own distractions, he wouldn’t miss Jaheira’s passing.

Once they’d stopped, Jaheira turned on a heel to face her.

Lae’zel also stopped immediately, and tipped her chin up to make sure the other knew she was serious. She relished looking down her (grotesquely long) nose at her, as the dragonborn form allowed her to do so. She did, however, miss the certainty that came with her true body: this one was soft, with muscles easily strained. Although beings of this realm were less prone to fighting when the time called for it, she couldn’t stand the thought of not being ready herself.

Not that Jaheira would start a fight.

Probably not, anyway.

“The first problem is that one hummingbird would not be enough for a jar’s worth.” The woman tilted her chin up, too, unintimidated by the towering dragonborn in front of her. Good. She was a respectable ally. “The second problem is that my feathers would eventually melt into disgusting goo and then dissolve, as they aren’t true, natural-born feathers.”

Oh. “The second is a much bigger obstacle than the first.”

“Mm. The third issue is, I cannot turn into a hummingbird.”

Lae’zel scowled. “That is the biggest problem you’ve said. You could have said it first.”

“I know. But I wanted you to understand the many layers of ‘problem’ that your proposal brought.” In the back of her awareness, warm-flecked humor radiated out from her companions. Bristling, Lae’zel scowled deeper, for a moment sure she was being made fun of without knowing why. How was she supposed to know the druid couldn’t become what they needed? Before she could address the slight, however, Jaheira continued speaking. “It was a decent, if somewhat cruel, thought. How about this: instead of me becoming the ruined bird, I will turn into a raven, and drive the winged targets to your plucky hands. It may take all day, but I feel confident that we will have our jar’s worth at the end.”

When it comes to bird-catchers, Tara’s an elite. Ever-bored, ever-nosy, Gale of Waterdeep added his opinion. Give me but a moment, and I could summon her and explain our objective.

The winged feline?

Taking a pause, Lae’zel considered that.

Jaheira regarded her silence with a sharpened gaze. Let her feast her eyes, Lae’zel thought. Unlike with the ghaik infestation, it seemed clear now – with what they’d seen through his eyes – that unruly magic had borne their predicament. There was little to fear about spells that could be undone in time.

“Gale proposed to summon his cat to aid our quest.”

Like the spike of an impending headache, Tressym! Not a cat. – except his indignation banked after he’d made his point, so Lae’zel let it slide.

“His… ah. The tressym?” Jaheira nodded, slowly. “An extra pair of deft paws wouldn’t hurt. There can’t be that many hummingbirds in this city, but it’s best we cover as much ground as we can.”

A satisfactory reason. Lae’zel nodded, once. Turning inward, Summon her, then, wizard, she ceded control to the ever-grasping Gale.

Despite the distance Gale claimed she traveled, the winged cat swept in just after they’d collected Minsc.

“You arrived just in time, friends!” he claimed, before they were even out of earshot of an angry kennel master and his scowling comrades. “Boo cleaned them out of house and home. Their pockets will never recover from the holes he chewed into them, nor the games which they soundly lost.”

He agreed to stand ready at the collection point with Lae’zel, while Jaheira and Tara flapped off to round up the pesky targets. It was interesting to see that although Tara agreed to help hunt the hummingbirds (or so translated Jaheira), she was not pleased about her master’s shared-body situation. She made her displeasure known through a series of loud, nasally noises that somehow reminded Lae’zel of a disappointed armsmaster, and which didn’t require any translations to understand.

Gale had never before ceded control back as quickly as he did, Lae’zel noted. It made her smile, dark amusement curling in her chest – did he wish to flee his own pet’s disappoint? Then he shouldn’t have summoned her, as her help proved invaluable indeed on locating the tiny, zipping birds.

‘Hummingbird’ was a ridiculous name, however, as they certainly did not hum. They sounded closer to the wind itself. Some small part of Lae’zel found them pretty, in their own limited, Faerun way. With their speed unmatched thanks to their perfectly smooth, lithe bodies, they taunted their hunters with their bright colors.

Minsc and Lae’zel stood watch at a spot opposite the stables, with a bucket between the two of them for the birds’ bodies to be collected within. Tara had apparently requested that the plucked bodies be surrendered to her for consumption, as payment for her assistance. That was fine, as the creatures were far too small to provide much sustenance. Even so, as Jaheira predicted, it took far more than one bird to fill a jar with their vibrant feathers. In fact, it took nearly a dozen. Fortunately, the stables housed everything from the standard horse to large lizards to a keen-eyed griffin. The locals didn’t so much as bat an eye at the coming and going of a raven and tressym.

The keen-eyed griffin, however, took an especial interest in the winged creatures.

It took an interest specifically when it was being led from the post it had been hitched to while its tack had been removed and into the stables by a young, bored-looking stablehand. Its handler kept it in check with a loose grip on an old rope connected to a halter that seemed two sizes too big.

Beelining for her bipedal companions, Jaheira swooped low from over the stable roof, a colorful blue-green body clutched in her black talons. She squawked indignantly as the griffin lunged for her, its massive golden beak snapping onto her tail.

“Away, bird!” the stablehand yelled, and, “Slow, Cloudjumper! Remember yourself!” which did little to convince the massive creature that it didn’t want to gobble down two fresh meals for the price of one attack.

It dragged the furiously flapping druid from the sky and pinned her beneath one cat-like front paw. Its paw was as big as the raven’s body, while a single claw rivaled the side of Jaheira’s head. It then ducked its face in front of the screeching raven’s and screeched back.

Lae’zel didn’t understand animal, but that seemed personal.

Gods, look at it go. It must be livid about its favorite snack being snatched up! Astarion guessed, words buoyed with a mix of delight and derision.

Don’t be ridiculous; it was probably startled, Gale shot back, far more baffled.

Minsc certainly took it personally.

“Horrible oversized cat-bird! Let go of Jaheira!” he cried, pulling out his shortsword and leaping at the beast.

The stablehand had yanked uselessly on its halter, but he dropped the rope and scrambled backward when Minsc came in swinging. Around them, people without survival instinct stopped and stared. Others hastily backed away, clearing a wide breadth around the scene. One horse within the stables screeched and kicked its door, clearly sensing the unrest and desiring its own freedom.

Maybe we should– Shadowheart and Wyll started, near simultaneously; Karlach ended, -- too late now! Get in there, Lae’zel!

“With relish,” she smiled, and drew the halfway decent toothpick that they called their sword.

Despite their gear’s handicap, they subdued the griffin with ease. It had been a soft and stupid thing, picking on smaller creatures because it knew it could win. They crippled its wings and removed two of its three talons so handily that Jaheira didn’t even need to remove herself from raven-form. In fact, she’d assisted, as she’d pecked one of its vainglorious eyes out.

To Lae’zel’s surprise, the stablemaster took great offense at their harming the unruly beast. He banned them from sleeping in the stables another night, and even went so far as to threaten to report them to the Avowed priest for disturbing the peace, whatever that meant.

“I don’t see why we’re leaving. The coward would never have reported us,” Lae’zel declared as she and Minsc left rather than fight, at the strong behest of a then-bipedal Jaheira and the entirety of her mind’s company. “Even if he did, the beast had attacked Jaheira first. We would have been in the right to cut its throat and take its head as a trophy!”

“I agree!” Minsc growled, in as much of a snit as her about being forced to back off from challenging the stablemaster to a proper duel over their temporary lodging. “Explain to me again, Jaheira, why we are slinking away like we are in the wrong, and not standing up for ourselves?”

“I told you a dozen times,” Jaheira huffed, “it had wanted a hummingbird, and had asked every time I passed by. It had grown impatient. I would have handled it, had you two not jumped up like a pair of undisciplined hooligans!”

She spoke as if she’d taken the highroad, but Lae’zel had seen her leave the bloodied, bird body-filled bucket outside of the window to the griffin’s pen while the healers had been busy patching it from within.

“Now we need to find a new place to sleep,” she added, with a few uninspired glances to the run-down, residential homes they walked past. She carried the feather-filled jar with its lid screwed on tight. As long as they shook it up and didn’t push the feathers down to make it compact, they seemed to have enough. “And you should allow Gale to call Tara back. I’d hate for her to wait pointlessly for our return to the stables.”

Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her too much. She likely won’t wait long, Gale said, as assured as he was fond. His affection never wavered when it came to his winged feline, which both perplexed and exasperated Lae’zel. He would have been better off focusing his loyalty and energy toward something that wasn’t a small, breakable animal. If I had to hazard a guess, she’s already busied herself with cleaning up those hummingbirds we left behind.

Perhaps that inn we originally visited has a few errands we could run in exchange for a room, Shadowheart noted. They didn’t in the past, but perhaps, with time…

Otherwise, there’s a fine alleyway by the main gate for us to hunker down in, Karlach said. Hardly any loose or stinky garbage. Cobblestone’s near smooth enough for us to not wake up with a crick in the neck.

For once, Lae’zel caught the sarcastic edge. She didn’t resist snorting aloud at it, finding the idea just as appetizing.

They rounded the corner of a narrow corridor, and nearly smacked right into a brightly-vested human.

“Oh my!” exclaimed an extremely familiar and extraordinarily grating voice. “I do beg your pardon, I hadn’t heard anyone– why, wait a moment, I know you three. … Yes! Hello again, my finely sung heroes of Baldur’s Gate! What are you doing so far from your distressed city? Has it fully recovered from all of its smoking craters?”

Clearly combing their minds for how they too recognized the man, Jaheira and Minsc openly stared at him. They’d met him only briefly in the Grey Harbor, outside of the Gondian factory, and his tearful prattle from that time clearly hadn’t left much of an impression.

Lae’zel, meanwhile, bared her teeth in what some of her campmates had called a menacing smile.

She thought of it as an opening.

“Volo,” she said, “master traveler, eye-snatcher. How fortuitous our meeting. We must know: what lodgings have you secured in this accursed keep? We will be joining you at them.”

“You will?” he replied, blank with shock. Then, when her smile did not falter, he hastened to add: “Ah! Yes! Of course, you will! I’m gladdened to see you three whole and hale. As a matter of fact, I am lodged on the grace of an old acquaintance at the Hearth, which is an inn not far from the Great Library. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind another guest…” He paused. “Though she may mind all the, hm, red that you’re covered in.”

Minsc and Jaheira glanced down at themselves, as if just then noticing the griffin and hummingbird-based splatters down their fronts.

Lae’zel did not so much as blink.

“She will mind nothing. It all comes from beasts.”

“Of course!” Volo coughed, and gave her a wide, unconvincing smile. “Only beast blood. Of course. Who’d ever think any differently? You’re most famous as butchers, after all! And Candlekeep is known for its plethora of beasts in need of butchering! Well – right – let’s go this way, then, as it’s the way to the inn, and you can tell me all about the beasts!”

“The colorful jongleur looked familiar, did he not?”

Lae’zel frowned at him. Jongleur?

Another word for minstrel, the wizard supplied, buoyed by the chance to show off his linguistic abilities. An impressive word, at that! Perhaps he had read the thesaurus that I gifted him after all!

Or he just listened to the street-side jesters and their many creative jokes, Shadowheart slipped in, most of which feature bards in unfortunately and unavoidably compromising positions.

Are we thinking our precious, naive Minsc listens to bawdy barroom ballads? Astarion asked, gleeful. -- Because now that I’ve said it aloud, oh, he definitely does. I’d wager he takes them all literally, too.

“He did,” Jaheira said, unaware of the commentary spinning around Lae’zel’s mind. “Unless he spent a century with a nature spirit or trapped in stone, however, I can’t fathom how he looks like he did.”

“Fantastic skin care routine, perhaps?” Minsc offered, apparently genuinely. “Many merchant women told me that the oil of coconut extends a human’s natural life.”

Then it was Jaheira’s turn to frown, except she aimed it directly at him. “Is that where portions of our earnings from saving that little girl went?”

“Hm? No, not to the oil.” He stared back at her, free of any guilty hint. “Minsc only spent earnings on necessary things, such as seed-cakes for Boo. If Jaheira wanted to live longer than a human, that is good news; she has already managed it.”

There’s no oil in all the realms that would help her, anyway, Astarion murmured. She has more wrinkles than a deep rothe.

She looks great for her age! Karlach argued.

Oh, honey. Please. You are making ‘for her age’ do a lot of heavy-lifting. She’s going to throw her back out at this rate.

Jaheira waved off Minsc’s compliment, turning away toward the room’s bed.

“It’s no matter, I suppose. Perhaps he’s a nomadic grandson in a family where wanderlust runs deep. Perhaps he was turned to stone. Regardless, he’s found us quiet accommodations. For that, he can be whatever age he wants to be.”

And what accommodations they were.

The simple room with a single bed, dresser, and trunk would have comfortably accommodated a gnome couple. With three large bipedals, it became cozy. Set directly above a lively barroom that kept its doors open and taps flowing well into the early morning, and it could be called ‘quiet’ only by a deaf person.

As a raucous bout of cheering, chair-moving, and foot-stomping erupted at the evident arrival of a teetotaler’s favorite, the feather-filled jar rattled against the blood-filled one at their place of honor on the floor between their packs, Lae’zel privately amended her characterization of the place: only the dead would have called the place ‘quiet.’

Based on the snores radiating from the singular, one-person-wide bed, Jaheira had little trouble falling asleep despite the endless raucous from below their feet.

Lae’zel didn’t yet envy her, though it was only a matter of time. Before then, she busied herself with properly inventorying their supplies, and then inspecting, cleaning, and sharpening their meager weaponry. Sitting cross-legged next to her with his pet rodent curled up between his jacket’s tall collar and his neck, Minsc did the same.

Though the sun was down – and though the others had largely forgotten or chosen to willfully ignore that particular rule, she hadn’t –, her companions kept their chattering to a soft and occasional murmur. They spoke of nothing in particular, on breakfast prospects and whether any would pursue immortality willingly. She much preferred their background noise to the bar’s.

“Mrrrrow!”

Surging to her feet, Lae’zel flipped the sword til she grasped its handle and brandished it at the large, furry blob which smacked into their room’s small, foggy window.

She halted as Gale exclaimed, Tara! and then, from Minsc, at the volume of an exclamation masquerading as a whisper: “The winged cat returns!”

As he sat closer to the window, he got up and let the beast hop in. Maintaining the whisper-yell, perhaps for the once-sleeping Jaheira’s benefit, he added, “And she bears a gift! Very kind. Thank you, winged cat.”

The gift was a hummingbird, its ragged feathers gleaming green in the candlelight. Lae’zel resisted the urge to turn aside and spit in annoyance. They didn’t necessarily need another hummingbird. The jar was full. She didn’t spit only because she remembered how long Astarion and Wyll complained, each in their own distinct way, about how rude she’d been to do so at a prior residence, and she didn’t much care to inspire a repeat there, either.

Tara dropped the dead bird into Minsc’s hand. Lae’zel quickly backtracked to the spot on the floor that she’d decided was hers, as it was right next to the wooden dresser. The shelves made it easy to lay out their supplies.

We should have told her where we were going. Gale sounded as if he were disappointed. As usual with him, Lae’zel couldn’t fathom why. Now she’s mad at us.

Go give her a chin-scratch, Karlach proposed. Let her know we’re sorry for abandoning her.

Let’s not be too hasty, Gale hedged. I’m not sure that’s the exact right step towards reconciliation, but it’s a kind thought.

Jaheira continued to pretend to sleep. Lae’zel found herself envying her earlier than she’d expected.

After closing the window again, Minsc went to the room’s soap scum-encrusted wash-tub, sat down, and began plucking the bird’s feathers. He was a good travel companion, Lae’zel thought. He rarely complained and did the job he was asked to do.

From the window, the wizard’s pet flapped its wings once, then glided over to perch on the dresser. She peered down at Lae’zel with big eyes and twitching whiskers. Lae’zel glanced at her, determined she had nothing for her, and looked back to her sword.

“Mrro-p,” the cat chirped.

Lae’zel glanced up, again saw nothing for her, and looked back down to her cleaning. She picked up the damp cloth she’d been using to lather the leather grip. The weapon was cheap and barely worth calling a sword, but it was what they had, and she wouldn’t neglect it.

She wants to speak with me, Gale said.

Lae’zel did not pause her lathering. She can wait.

A bit of her coiled tight, ready for an internal struggle to break out. Not a tenday ago, Gale would have pushed for control. Technically, since the sun had set, it was within his right. However— she had a task ahead of her, while he merely wanted to console his pet.

For a tense moment, no one said a thing. Everyone held their emotions close to their metaphysical chests.

... I would be much obliged, Gale said at last, a careful note of restraint singing alongside reluctant deference, if you at least told her that she and I can speak after you are finished, and before we go to sleep.

Lae’zel considered that.

The tone matched a petulant child’s. But, it was a reasonable request.

Lae’zel glanced up to the animal. “Gale will speak with you once I am finished.”

Thank you, sighed Gale.

The cat blinked at her, once.

She looked back down to the sword, and continued her cleaning.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the thing jump from the dresser to the bed. It walked up to the side of the pillow Jaheira wasn’t using. There, it laid down, tucked its front paws under itself, and watched Lae’zel with lazy, hooded eyes. Its tail curled off the side of the bed, the tip twitching every so often. At her side, based on how her breathing again slowed, Jaheira drifted back from her feigned sleep to a true doze.

Minsc finished working over the bird and adding its red-flecked feathers to the jar. He then patted both the feather-jar and blood-jar on the lid, smiling down at them with well-earned pride.

“Just one left,” he reminded both himself and Lae’zel, turning the smile on her. “Warmwet, was it not called? Boo is not looking forward to any baths, but I look forward to being done with this errand.”

Lae’zel nodded, once. “I, as well. I’m not convinced the reward will have been worth this trouble. It will be good to have removed these distractions.”

“We would hate to have to wonder what might have changed had we not taken the mystery cards.”

Lae’zel wouldn’t have wondered at all, she thought, but the others would’ve, and to distraction, even. So, she kept quiet.

Minsc sat back down next to his bow, and picked up his dry cloth to wipe it clean of old wax. Again, they fell into companionable silence.

Eventually, Minsc paused his waxing and gazed over at Lae’zel. Though she felt his eyes on her, she didn’t look up. She’d finished cleaning the grip, and was finalizing smoothing out the small chips from the sword’s edge.

“Do not take this the wrong way,” Minsc said, “but Boo and I are very impressed at how much our friends have improved their teamwork.”

… An odd comment.

Though she didn’t pause her whetstone’s strokes, she felt the corners of her mouth tip down.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have kept yourself decently fed, and are no longer drooling over yourself. You have not just stepped over that low bar, however; you have flown over it! For you wrestled that large griffen with some of the ease I had come to expect from you.”

Holding herself still, Lae’zel flicked her eyes up. “You miscalculate. I had been sluggish. My form was sloppy. If I had my own body and greatsword back, I would have performed far better.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Minsc conceded, good-naturedly, “but it remains that when I last saw you, never would I have imagined you could have kept up at all. Though I dearly wish Bhaal’s blood did not again pollute your body’s veins, it appears that you are all operating in harmony with one another. For example, as I listen to Boo’s advice, so too did I just see you listen to what I assume was the wizard’s request regarding Tara.” He nodded, as if punctuating his own opinion. “That togetherness brings me joy to see. No matter what happens, I know you will be fine.”

Though she couldn’t say why, the words… disquieted her. Left her feeling off-balanced, which was as unwelcome a feeling as always.

The others did not say a thing. They were cautiously quiet, in a way that felt far too intentional to be comfortable.

More than Minsc’s words, that rang through her loud and long as a gong.

In their mind, there was a Cave.

If they minded it, it had slowly become more like a cave.

(The problem with heroes was that it frequently boiled down to a matter of perspective.)