Chapter Text
“Ha! Well, I’ll be damned! They weren’t making it up.”
Astarion stopped briefly to adjust his parasol, peering down the metal rails gleaming beneath his feet.
Gale arched a brow. “What on earth are you talking about, Astarion?”
Beside him, Wyll whistled a tune, utterly unbothered by the fact that the four (five if you count Withers who had been following them quietly) were strolling along literal train tracks.
Astarion gestured delicately with one hand. “These rails!” He pointed downwards.
“I heard a rumour that some company in Faerûn was installing a marvelous new form for travel! A metal carriage that zips through on these rails. A ‘trolley,’ apparently. Completely revolutionary. No more relying on carriages and getting ambushed by goblins. Though I heard they ran out of money and haven’t built the actual trolley… yet.”
He sniffed, satisfied with himself.
Shadowheart frowned, “And who exactly fed you that story?”
Astarion paused. Had he not been a vampire, there would have been tiny, unnatural hints of colour that crept into his cheeks.
“Let’s just say that it was a very reputable source,” he said smugly. “…from Sharess’ Caress.”
This time, Gale snorted. “So… in other words: someone you were too distracted to fact-check.”
“Oh please,” Astarion waved him off. “If we were all expected to verify everything said to us in a pleasure house, we would never leave the front desk.”
Just then, the ground trembled beneath their feet.
“What in the hells was that?!” The warlock yelped.
A metallic screech split the air, so loud it rattled Gale’s staff, made Shadowheart wince, and almost made Astarion drop his parasol.
They all stopped, turned towards their back and braced for the arrival of a massive, unstoppable trolley.
Instead, they saw a single ox jogging past them at full speed.
Not just a normal ox.
A very strange ox.
It barreled down the tracks before veering sharply off into the forest.
The party stared in silence.
“…Was that the same ox from the Druid Grove?” Gale asked.
“Or perhaps the same one from the Last Light Inn,” Shadowheart added.
The party exchanged glances.
Wyll cleared his throat. “Should… should we check that out?”
There was a moment of contemplative silence.
Then Astarion spoke for all of them:
“No. Absolutely not. Whatever is happening over there is far, far above our pay grade.”
The others nodded in unanimous agreement.
They turned and continued on their walk as though nothing had happened.