Chapter Text
Glib
“Gang, I don’t feel too hot about this one,” Goodbid says as they stare up at the imposing gothic architecture of the castle. Well, castle isn’t exactly the right word. It’s closer to a mansion in design, but it has tall, imposing protective-walls that surround the garden they are stood in with several spires piercing the sky with their sharp peaks. The brick walls are dark and cracked, covered by overgrown vines, and the windows are covered by heavy sun-bleached drapes, adding to the unsettling aura of the place.
Glib had to agree with Goodbid; nothing felt right about this. The castle belonged to an insanely powerful sorceress that suddenly vanished several years ago, and the town’s mayor wants them to get through the castle and make sure that the lady is actually gone. Mayor Blackbell had convinced them (by them, Glib means mostly S.G.) to take the job because he said that they could take any of the magical items they found inside as well as 1000 gold if they started looking through the castle tonight.
“Stop being such cowards!” S.G. laughs. “The lady’s been dead for years! What are you afraid of?”
“Death. Violent death,” Glib deadpans.
“Well, you are already dead, so really there is nothing to be afraid of,” Canyon says as he strides forward.
Goodbid and Glib look at each other. They nod at each other in a silent understanding that there is no way this will not go horribly. Canyon and S.G. walk up first, throwing open the doors, showering everyone in a huge cloud of dust, while revealing a grand foyer.
The ceilings are high with tall marble pillars holding it up. The walls are some sort of dark wood, and a chandelier hangs in the center of the room, unlit and covered in cobwebs. The floor is an old dark stone making Glib’s bare feet chilly as it offers no insulation against the cold. There is a grand staircase on either side of the room that arches up and connects in the center of the wall. The stairs lead to a set of closed oak doors.
“Great, now I’m dusty,” Glib says as he tries, in vain, to get the dust off of his sticky skin. Goodbid gives him a sympathetic look as he brushes the dust off of his top hat. He takes his jacket off and shakes the dust off of it before putting it back on.
“I can try to brush it off of ya,” Goodbid offers as they advance towards one of the large grand staircases.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure this shit isn’t coming off without me jumping into a river,” Glib says sourly as they ascend the dirty stairs. They throw open the doors at the top of the stairs, revealing an unlit hallway. The hallway is done in a similar style as the foyer. Tall ceilings, dark walls, and dark stone floors. The hall is sparsely decorated with only a few paintings and creepy busts along the walls, and a deep red carpet that runs along the center of the floor.
“Hey, Glib,” S.G. says already holding out her hand. “Give me Stick.”
“What? Why?” Glib says as he hesitantly holds out Stick.
“Because its dark,” S.G. says bluntly. She casts a spell on Stick making it glow before giving it back to Glib. “There now Goodbid and I won’t walk into walls.”
They wander around the building, checking every room they come across and pocketing everything they can.
“Five gold says that this is another empty bedroom,” Canyon says as he walks up to the doors.
“No, I’m pretty sure this one’s an office,” Goodbid says with a distant tone.
Glib glances at him but he seems to be absorbed in his thoughts. Canyon throws open the door revealing an office.
“Wow, Goodbid, nice call!” S.G. says clapping him on the shoulder as she brushes past him into the office. Canyon grumbles something about cheating businessmen and puts the five gold into Goodbid’s unresponsive hand.
“Y’all, I’m pretty sure I’ve been here before,” Goodbid says as he glances around the office. “She wanted a hit on someone.”
“You remember who?” Glib asks sticking close to him.
“No, I’ve probably done more than five hundred since I’ve been here. I can’t remember them all,” Goodbid says as he walks over to the desk. They find an enchanted quill and several research papers on things that seem less than ethical. Goodbid takes the papers while S.G. puts the quill in her bag of holding.
Glib takes one of the papers off the desk before Goodbid can get to it. He scans it over, his eyes widening as a realization slowly dawns on him.
“Hey, I think she was a warlock,” Glib says as he holds up the piece of paper.
“Why ya say that?” Goodbid asks.
“Because this-” he holds up the piece of paper for the businessman to read, “looks like a written form of the contract I have with my God.”
Goodbid takes the contract and skims it over. “Any clue who their patron is?” Goodbid asks.
“No more than you do,” Glib says with a sigh. A word in an ancient language keeps coming up in the paper, presumably the patron’s name, but Glib can’t identify who it belongs to.
“Damn,” Goodbid says as he sticks the paper in his briefcase. “Maybe you could ask your God.”
“I will once we are out of here,” Glib says dismissively. He doesn’t want to risk angering the patron of this place. His patron has few friends and a number of enemies.
Once the room is devoid of anything even remotely valuable, they leave and set back down the hall.
A flash of white catches Glib’s eye and he comes to a dead stop.
“Anyone else see that?” Glib says as he clutches stick closer to himself.
“See what?” Goodbid asks, already stepping closer to Glib and looking around for a threat.
“I saw something white move around down there.” Glib points into the darkness where he saw the flash of white.
“It’s probably nothing,” S.G., gaslighter extraordinaire, says with confidence.
“Uh, Glib, I can’t see past the light ring. Is something there?” Goodbid says, pointedly ignoring S.G. much to her chagrin, as he squints at the darkness.
“Oh, right, uh.” Glib walks forward and can see the clear outline of a door at the hallway’s end. “There’s a door?” He looks a little closer at it. “But it’s barred off.”
“Well, are ya sure ya saw somethin’?” Goodbid asks, his accent coming in more heavily the more anxious he becomes.
“No, not really,” Glib admits.
“Well obviously we should go through that door,” Canyon says smugly. “That’s obviously where the ghost wants us to go.”
“Mm, yes, I agree. Besides we were told to check all of the rooms. Ghost or no, we would’ve gone in there,” S.G. says, rolling her shoulders and straightening her hood. She’s clearly putting on a confident front to disguise her discomfort.
Goodbid stiffens at the mention of a ghost. He’s been very skittish about spirits ever since they were attacked at the bottom of Rift Reach.
“I doubt it was a ghost,” Glib says in an attempt to calm Goodbid. “I just saw the door glint in the light.”
Goodbid nods stiffly, side stepping closer to the Glow Stick and, by proxy, Glib. The frog just nods slightly and silently passes Goodbid Glow Stick so he can at least see where they are going. Goodbid mouths a silent thank you as he takes the light and holds it in one hand and his brief case in the other.
When they get to the door, Canyon tries to remove the bar. He struggles with it for a moment before huffing and taking a step back.
“Welp, that’s a sign, y’all, I say we-”
“Hold on, I can help you,” S.G. says stepping up to the door.
“Damn witch,” Goodbid swears, clutching his briefcase to his chest.
Together, they dislodge the bar and throw the door open.
“Y’all I’ve a real bad feelin’ ‘bout this,” Goodbid says.
“I mean, you can always stay out here,” S.G. says with mock sympathy. “Alone. In the dark.”
Goodbid looks visibly distressed, but he slowly nods. He hooks his briefcase to his belt and grabs the back of Glib’s hood. Glib flashes him a look, but he can see how upset Goodbid is, so he lets it go. If Goodbid holding onto Glib’s hood keeps him from freaking out, he can keep holding on.
They’d barely stepped through the door’s threshold when it swings shut, locking behind them, and the enchantment on Stick suddenly stops working.
Goodbid shrieks and turns on his heels. He grabs the door handle and tries desperately to open it, chanting “come on ya damn door!” before devolving into an impressive combination of prayers and swears.
“Bid! Bid!” Glib says, trying to get his attention but very quickly coming to the realization that Goodbid’s in hysterics. He grabs Goodbid’s arm and pulls himself onto his back. He latches onto him like a living backpack and starts talking. “Goodbid, you’ve got to listen to me. It’s alright, you are going to have to calm down. We can find another way out, this is a really old castle, there are other entrances.”
Goodbid doesn’t seem to understand what Glib is saying, but he slowly starts to calm down.
“I told y’all!” He yells, turning to face the group. S.G. is looking in the other direction, but Canyon is looking at them with a strange expression, much harder for Glib to understand in the dark. “Somethin’ bad was gonna happen! Now look where we are!”
“Goodbid! Stop overreacting! Everything is fine!” S.G. says while looking at Canyon. Glib realizes that while he can see about as well as he can see normally and Canyon can probably see like it’s a moonless night, S.G. and Goodbid are completely blind.
“Fine? Fine?!” Goodbid shouts. Glib swears he can feel Goodbid getting hotter through his shirt. “Is this what you call fine, you crazy witch?! We are in a pitch-black room in a random haunted godforsaken castle!” He howls in a fury. He waves his hands wildly in the air even though he can’t see them and S.G. is non the wiser. Glib holds on for dear life as the man jostles him around. “We are not fine!”
“Yes, well, shut up and stop whining!” S.G. counters. “I’m working on it!” She turns and is yelling at the wall.
At this point, Canyon and Glib are barely holding their laughter.
“Hey, S.G. I don’t know what that wall did to you, but Goodbid’s over here,” Glib says trying desperately to not laugh, only to start rolling with laughter as she does a full 180 and starts yelling at Canyon again.
“Well unlike some people, I can’t see in the dark!” S.G. snaps.
“Well, sucks to suck,” Canyon says bluntly before holding his hand out. “Glib throw me Stick.”
“Stick go to Canyon.” It pulls out of Goodbid’s hand and goes to the giant cat-man.
“Cool. S.G.” He turns back to S.G. “Relight this.” He grabs S.G.’s hand and puts Stick in it.
S.G. grumbles something about Canyon being stupid before trying to ‘relight’ Stick. She tries a few times before throwing the stick at Canyon. It smacks him square in the face.
“It’s not working!” She snaps. “There must be something with this room.”
“Alright, well, we have two people who can see jack shit and two who can see well enough in the dark. I guess we’ll just have to continue wandering around until we find a way out,” Glib says. He shifts to get off of Goodbid’s back, but the mustached man grabs his hand.
“If you sit on my shoulder’s you’ll be able to direct me around better,” Goodbid says with the underlying message, “please don’t leave me in the dark.”
“Okay,” Glib says. He crawls further up Goodbid’s back until he’s perched on his shoulder. “Stick!” He yells and catches it before it can hit Goodbid, who flinches. In front of them, S.G. latches onto Canyon’s arm in the image of modern chivalry, or at least it would be if S.G. wasn’t complaining about not needing to be guided around.
“Can you see?” Canyon says leaning over her.
“No,” S.G. says hotly.
“Then shut up and hold on.”
With that they start down the hall, checking every door they come across, all of them being locked.
“We should start pick locking,” Canyon suggests, already getting his picks out.
“We will later, Canyon, but first we need to get them outside,” Glib says tiredly. “They are kinda sitting ducks.”
Canyon thinks about it for a moment before nodding and pocketing the picks again.
After about ten minutes of trying all the doors -and S.G. and Goodbid getting increasingly more uncomfortable- one at the hall’s end opens. Past the door is a stone spiral staircase.
“Oh great,” Glib grumbles. “Canyon, you and S.G. go first.”
“Go first?” Goodbid asks, stiffening under Glib.
“Oh, right, you can’t see what just happened,” Glib says apologetically and Goodbid shakes his head. “A door actually opened and there’s a spiral staircase on the other side.”
Goodbid just makes a noise that sounds like a whine and a groan at once. “Why did I ever agree to stay with y’all after my contract was up?”
“Because we are the best for ‘biddness’,” Glib says as he watches S.G., and Canyon slowly climb the stairs. Once they were out of eye line, Glib nudges Goodbid forward. Slowly they start up the stairs. It’s precarious and Glib feels like he’s about to die of a stress induced heart attack, but they are managing.
About halfway up, S.G. yells, “wait! I can see light!”
“You can?!” Goodbid yells back up, sounding relieved.
“Yeah, there’s torch light!” Canyon calls.
Goodbid starts climbing the stairs a little quicker, and sure enough, there is the slow orange flicker of torch light. It illuminates Canyon and S.G. at the top of the stairs, who are waiting patiently for Goodbid to arrive.
“What’s the hold up?” Goodbid asks when Canyon looks antsy.
“Why are there torches here? This place has been abandoned for years,” Canyon says. His ears are pinned slightly, and he keeps looking through the doorway.
“Magic torches,” Glib says dismissively. “We’ve seen them before.”
“Yeah, but I just think that its weird that they are only in that room.” He points through the door where Glib can barely see anything but can clearly make out a long bridge reaching across a dark room.
“I don’t know, but right now this is the only way forward,” Glib says pointedly.
Canyon makes a clicking noise and shakes his head. He turns around and gestures S.G. through. “Ladies first.”
“Gee, thanks,” S.G. says sarcastically. She looks around the room before cautiously stepping through. Canyon goes next, and Goodbid brings up the rear.
“What was that?!” Goodbid yelps, jumping to look at the door.
“What? What?” Glib yells, holding onto Goodbid before he can throw him off.
“You didn’t see that?!”
“No!”
Goodbid pants for a second before slowly turning back. “Must’ve been the wind.”
Glib stares at him, but Goodbid says nothing else, gesturing for the others to continue walking. They slowly cross the bridge with S.G. in the lead.
“Woah! Look at that!” Canyon says in amazement as he leans over the ledge.
“What?” Glib asks. He turns and looks over into the dark room and is awestruck by what he sees.
Gears take up the far walls and large portions of the floor, leaving only small pathways to and from the clock with bells and chimes covering the roof. The wall across from the bridge is the only one not covered in (or seemingly made of) gears. Instead, it seems to be made of dark, thick glass which, despite being in the center of a wall, is facing the sky. In the center of the glass wall sits a large clockface, the only indication of what this massive machine is.
The clock face is the most impressive of them all. The detail is hard to pick out in the shadowed room, but he can see the raised details dancing in the fire’s light. The grass of the flower field sways like the breeze is blowing and the stars shine in the low light. A tree sits off to the edge of the painting with an elf boy laying under it. He has a thin straw hat over his face and his hands crossed over his chest. His long golden-white hair tumbles past his shoulders and splays into the tall grass like white vines.
“That’s impressive. Can you guys see that?”
“See what- oh my god,” Goodbid says, coming to a dead stop. He walks over to the sturdy wood railing, and, knowing better than to put his weight on something like this, he places his palms on it to get a better look.
S.G. whistles as she joins the boys at admiring the hauntingly beautiful clock.
“Think we can fit that in your bag?” Canyon jokes.
“I’m willing to try it,” S.G. counters, a mischievous look on her face.
Before anyone can say anything else, a white streak lunges from the wall behind them. With a terrifying shriek, it picks up Goodbid and Glib and hurls them at the clock’s face. They slam into it with a sick crunch before falling to the ground. They miraculously land on one of the gearless patches.
Glib slowly gets off the ground. Everything is spinning and he can faintly taste blood, but he knows he needs to get up. He looks up and can see the fuzzy image of Canyon and S.G. fighting the white ghoul. White things keep whipping around its face, and it keeps making these loud sobbing noises.
“Banshee,” Glib says through the link. “That’s a banshee.” He shakily raises his hand and fires off as many eldritch blasts as he can before he collapses back in exhaustion, half landing on Goodbid, who has not gotten up. Glib feels for his pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. Suddenly, the bells and chimes start ringing loudly, shaking the entire castle.
The last thing Glib hears before everything fades to black is S.G. and Canyon through the mental link screaming their names, telling them to get up and get out.
*
Glib shoots straight up. He’s in his room, sleeping in his fur-lined bed (thank you magical loopholes) and he’s completely unhurt.
“Just a nightmare,” Glib mutters, running a hand down his face. “Just a stupid, stupid nightmare.” Before he can go back to sleep, his door swings open with enough force that he’s worried its going to come off its hinges.
“It was not just a nightmare!” S.G. yells, marching into Glib’s room, Canyon and a traumatized-looking Goodbid in tow. “We remember it too!”
“And today’s the same day!” Canyon says as if that makes any sense.
“What?” Glib asks, still half asleep.
“What day did we go to the castle?” Canyon asks.
“Uh, it was the twenty sixth?” Glib says, trying very hard to remember everything from the not-dream.
“Yeah! And today is also the twenty sixth!”
“What are you talking about?” Glib asks, not particularly wanting to deal with Canyon’s nonsense.
“We’re repeating the day,” Goodbid says in a distant tone. Glib looks at him and Goodbid is just staring at the wall above Glib’s head with a thousand-yard stare.
“Is he okay?” Glib asks, slightly worried that Goodbid, while he is still smiling, is smiling in a very manic way.
“No, he thinks he took a contract there, and you know how he gets when we have to deal with the undead,” S.G. says, only a little sympathetic, as if she isn’t also terrified of most ghosts and Glib was not an actual vampire.
“I would just need to find that contract. I keep my contracts, it’ll be easy,” Goodbid says, mostly to himself. The room falls into silence while everyone thinks over what just happened.
“Oh shit,” Glib says. “Mystery man is going to kill us if we don’t figure this out.”