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Hamid fell.
Sasha saw it happen, she was tumbling through the room towards the archers that had taken their sorcerer as targets - she had been so stealthy they had lost track of her entirely - but she was too late.
Just a few seconds too late.
Three arrows had lodged themselves in the halfling's small body, and Sasha almost cursed her too good eyes as she couldn't ignore the glint of poison on the arrowheads. The same poison which had so swiftly dispatched their guide a few hours earlier, making it quite unlikely that they would rejoin Grizzop and Azu. They had no healer, and the health potions they did have had not been enough to save their guide earlier.
Sasha knew all of that, couldn't help the information from flashing through her brain, yet she didn't make a noise when she saw her friend hit the ground. She wasn't one to scream. Instead she focused on the two remaining archers. The third one had just died from the lingering effects of an earlier fireball of Hamid's.
The archers didn't see her coming. Two daggers later, and there was only herself left standing in the room.
Sasha ran to the still form of Hamid on the ground, kneeling next to him. For now she couldn't hear any noise from the adjoining rooms but she knew it was probably just a matter of time before more pursuers came to them again. There had been no escapes from the adamantine mine before and Sasha guessed their erstwhile captors were pretty keen on that remaining true.
Hamid wasn't moving, definitely unconscious, although she had seen him in worse condition before. Still, she didn't like seeing him hurt, and if she was right about the poison...
Getting the arrows out and at least somewhat stemming the bleeding were done in pretty short order. The arrows had hit Hamid one in the shoulder and two in the hip, missing all vital organs, although they had been bleeding quite heavily.
The wounds themselves wouldn't kill Hamid, sure, but the poison probably would. There were already reddish-purple lines forming from the wounds on Hamid's body, the injuries wouldn't stop seeping blood, and any hope that the poison might not work on halflings or sorcerers were soon crushed. All three arrows had been poisoned. Their guide had only received one and had died in a couple of hours. And Hamid was tiny.
Even with the healing potions they still had, there was no way she was getting him out of there in time and there was only water on the archers' bodies. No antidote. Stupid and reckless of them, if you asked Sasha, but nobody did.
Maybe the potions would be more effective for a halfling. There was no way to know was there? She just needed to try and hope that it would work? Even unconscious, Hamid had started to trash around. Sasha held onto him and forced the potion through his lips.
"Come on, Hamid."
The halfling swallowed. The wounds barely closed at all and opened again almost immediately. His eyes opened, wide, yellow, pupils slit, and his skin started feeling unnaturally warm. Then he screamed, inhuman and pained, images of screeching flying beasts scorching the earth went through Sasha's brain, mixed in with whatever made Hamid, well, Hamid. Round, and kind, and a bit vain, always well dressed and with so little ability to figure out when someone was bad news.
"Hamid, shut up, you're going to alert every single enemy in miles!"
Hamid sagged back down, his eyes came back to their usual brown, focusing slowly on her. Sasha listened intently. Still no noise but it wouldn't last. They needed to move. She'd carry Hamid. She didn't think she could get him somewhere safe in time. But she sure as hell was going to try.
Moving Hamid: bad idea apparently. She'd maybe walked for five minutes when she must have jostled something, and now she couldn't stop the blood pouring from the halfling's shoulder again. She pushed and pushed, Hamid screamed in pain. The potion she managed to force him to swallow barely helped. She should have listened to her surroundings better. When she heard the sound of rolling wheels approaching, it was far closer than it really should have been.
--
For the fifth time in as many minutes, Zolf cursed the uneven ground of the cavern system he was wheeling himself through, that forced him to activate the hovering spell in the magic item that was his wheelchair and push himself through with the spear he'd grabbed in a hurry instead of his now discarded trident when Wilde had called.
In any other circumstances, Zolf would have been angry about the scrying spell Wilde definitely had on all of them, and on himself still, even as he wasn't part of the London Rangers - or the LOLOMG as they apparently were now called. Right now, fearing for his friends' lives he was glad of it.
"Where to, now, Wilde." Zolf asked.
The bard was in his head, giving him information, telling him where to go. Making sure no guards were in his vicinity. His obvious desperation as he'd made contact, telling Zolf that the party had disappeared while looking for the source of the simulacrum ore, had been enough to overcome Zolf's reluctance. He'd been close, investigating a massive storm in the nearby small cove. It was probably related.
"Where to, Wilde." Zolf asked again. He had gotten no answer at first.
"Right. No... straight ahead." Wilde said.
Even through the long-distance message, Wilde sounded absolutely exhausted. Must have been keeping a lot of different spells active. Zolf kept on going.
He reached a fork in the tunnel system.
"Which way Wilde?"
There was no answer. Zolf waited a few seconds.
"Wilde."
Still nothing. Zolf cursed under his breath. He wheeled himself into the tunnel to the right. Saw the glint of a dagger thrown his way just in time to duck and not get hit.
"Sasha?"
"Zolf? Zolf is that you?"
"Yeah."
Zolf inched his way towards Sasha. She sounded scared. That couldn't be good. And there was only one voice. There should have been four of them. (Sasha, Hamid and two new people. Apparently, Bertie was dead). And Sasha was partly turned away from him, half kneeling on the floor.
"Good to see you, Zolf, we really need your help here, mate."
--
That... that was a lot of blood. More than should really be coming from relatively small wounds. Sasha's explanation was quick and clear. They had escaped their cell. Got separated from Grizzop and Azu. This was poison, probably fatal. There wasn't an antidote at hand.
"But he's gonna be fine now right? You can cast a healing spell and make him better?"
Zolf was already half-way through feeding Hamid a potion. He had a couple on him.
"I... I've lost my magic, Sasha. I'm no cleric of Poseidon anymore."
The potion clearly wasn't going to be enough. The wounds started to close, at first, but they re-opened almost immediately. There might be a way to overwhelm the poison but unless Sasha had a large stock of potion she hadn't talked about...
"That's why you don't have your legs." Sasha said.
Zolf nodded.
She was standing now, listening for something, Zolf couldn't hear. What he could hear was the sadness she was ruthlessly pushing down. The despair Zolf was feeling too. Hamid was losing the small amount of colour the potion had briefly given him, and his coppery skin was turning almost gray. Noises of pain were escaping his lips. Not very loud.
Zolf got out a thread an needle. Fed Hamid his second and last potion. Started stitching up the wound. That wasn't going to be enough either. That just...
"Zolf, we got company." Sasha said.
Zolf cursed, loudly. He could hear it now, the feet running in their direction. He kept at what he was doing, for a few seconds longer. He couldn't stop now. He was going to have to abandon Hamid if he wanted to help Sasha fighting whatever was coming their way. But if he stopped applying pressure for even a few seconds, just as it looked like the bleeding was maybe slowing down... Just a few more seconds. Zolf dared to hope that it would be enough.
He heard the noise of Sasha jumping behind him, her knives entering someone's flesh.
Pressed further on Hamid's wound while turning towards the fight. As long as there was even the slightest chance he was not leaving the halfling to die. He just would not.
There was a surge of energy going through Zolf's hands, and through Hamid. Warm and familiar but lacking the erstwhile touch of salt and ocean wind. The wounds started to close.
"Grizzop, Azu!" There was a hint of joy in Sasha's voice then.
Still pushing the unexpected magic into Hamid's body, Zolf took a look. Two paladins, an orc and a goblin, were making quick work of their assailants. Two paladins. That meant healing abilities, stable, reliable ones, unlike his own. He just needed to fight against that poison long enough for them to be done with the fight and Hamid would have a chance. It was only his long familiarity with grief that allowed him to keep his tears of relief from spilling out. He just needed to hold on.
"He is going to be alright, Sasha. He just needs warmth and a bit of time. He should wake up in a few minutes."
That was Azu's voice, deep and calm, Hamid could feel the sound across him, soothingly familiar.
"Yeah, well, let's go then." Sasha said. "We don't want to be stuck in here."
"Come on, come on, let's go! No time to lose."
They had rejoined Grizzop too then. Hamid wasn't quite sure why it mattered just now, but there was a deep sense of relief he didn't quite understand. When he tried to, though, the vague discomfort he could guess at at the edge of his perception got sharper and turned into pain. So he didn't.
He felt someone picking him up, Azu's already familiar strong arms, and leaned into it. He was safe. He knew he was safe. There was the sound of wheels next to the three pairs of feet. A presence that felt familiar somehow. He felt like it might be important but fell back asleep before he could think it through further.
--
Zolf was sitting at Hamid's bedside. They had gotten a room in the inn where Zolf had been staying for a while earlier. The halfling hadn't woken up yet although his injuries had healed. The poison had clearly taken its toll. But he was very much alive and just asleep.
It had been almost eight hours. Zolf was on his own with Hamid in the room, reading his Campbell although he had some difficulty following the plot as the feeling of magic was cursing through his veins. Early on, he'd prepared some spells, almost force of habit, but hadn't cast anything since those healing spells yet.
Getting Azu to get a rest herself - she'd been pretty banged up too - hadn't been easy, but he'd managed it in the end. Grizzop had gone to give the results of their investigations to Wilde. Sasha, who had disappeared the moment they had reached the inn had come back just as Grizzop was about to leave and gone with him.
Wilde hadn't been back in touch and Zolf could admit to himself he was starting to worry. Not that he cared about the man, but there was definitely something big at work there and Wilde knew a lot of sensitive information. He'd also sounded so tired through the sending spell...
Zolf shook his head, tried to get back to his book. He couldn't concentrate on it. He wasn't even sure who was interested in who anymore. He'd have to read it again.
He sighed. Turned his head. Met opening hazel eyes.
"Hamid." Zolf said, wincing in advance. He'd been right to. Hamid's eyes got focused real fast and his voice went high enough to give the whole inn a headache.
"Zolf! You're back!"
"Yes, I'm here."
The halfling made to get up. Zolf pushed him back.
"Take it easy, Hamid. Let me check you over first."
"Are the others...?"
"The others are fine. Azu is asleep in the next room and Sasha and that goblin guy..."
"Grizzop?"
"Yeah. They've gone to report to Wilde. Sit back, Hamid. I'll tell you what I know of what happened but I need to make sure that poison's gone from you first."
Hamid did sit back down, but his gaze was darting around the room. As far as Zolf could tell, he seemed alright. Well, there were obvious signs of grief and exhaustion on his face but the poison at least seemed to have run its course. Hamid prestidigitated make-up on himself and Zolf rolled back a little, to pick up Hamid's stuff and give it to him. He picked up the moment Hamid noticed the wheelchair.
"Zolf." The halfling said.
"Yes Hamid."
"Did you lose your legs again?"
Apparently Hamid's voice could get even higher.
"Yeah. I did."
"I'm..."
"It's fine, Hamid. It's a long story. But it's fine."
Truth be told, it wasn't. Not yet. But it was better than to have those water-legs. He'd figure something out. Would think about his magic coming back later.
Zolf felt a bit stupid for being surprised by what happened next. He should have expected the halfling to fling himself at him, hug him and start crying in his shoulder. Really, he should have. Still had no idea what to do with it. There really wasn't any risk that the wounds would reopen they were perfectly well close, barely visible scar, but making sure they didn't was something Zolf knew how to do so he did that.
"It's good to see you Zolf, and that the others are ok, I... I can't...I..."
There were probably more words after that. They weren't intelligible, through Hamid's loud sobbing.
"It's gonna be ok, Hamid." Zolf tried.
He knew his tone was flat. He had no idea what to do with his hands. They just stayed there hovering next to Hamid. He kept his eyes on the new scar on the halfling's shoulder, adding a new layer to the already scarred arm.
Hamid got up, pulled himself together. Zolf could tell the composure was a very surface thing, brittle at best.
"I'm just really glad to see you, Zolf."
"Wilde let me know you guys were in trouble. I'm glad I got there in time. It was a bit close."
"Are you coming back?" Hamid.
"I...I can't, Hamid..."
"It's... You don't have to of course, but... So much happened since you left. We met Grizzop and Azu but... Bertie died and Sasha was undead for a bit..."
"She...?"
"She's fine now."
"Godsdarnit of course that blasted Mr Ceiling..."
"And I lost my sister, Zolf. She... That necromancer killed her, I couldn't do anything."
"Hamid..."
The halfling's voice was getting high again. Zolf wondered how such a small body could contain quite that much water. Worried about dehydration for a bit. Thought about how water used to be such a big part of the cleric he used to be. Wondered if those were spells he could cast again. Wondered if he would even want to.
He noticed he hadn't been listening. That Hamid had retreated into composure again in a way that looked worse than the crying.
Of all the time to get distracted, he chided himself. This was exactly why he had left.
"I'm sorry about your sister, Hamid." He said. Lame bullshit. None of that had ever helped him when his brother had died and he'd felt so damn guilty about it, just like Hamid...
"Thank you, Zolf."
Hamid sounded so damn sincere. So damn earnest. Broken up and holding back tears and still trying to be fucking polite, the posh idiot.
But in that moment, Zolf couldn't keep lying to himself and pretend Hamid was a shallow - terrifyingly young and reckless - privileged rich kid who knew nothing of life. He still was that. But that's not all he was.
Zolf surprised himself when he ask in a gruff voice, looking at the ground
"Would you like a hug?"
Because even though he'd never seen the point in that, he knew how much that meant for Hamid.
"Are you sure?" The damn halfling had the gall to ask as if it hadn't been hard enough to offer. Zolf still nodded. Looked away. Let Hamid cry in on his chest. Let him talk about his sister in a hoarse voice as he grunted assent. Seemed like she had been a good kid, even beyond Hamid's tendency to portray her as having hung the moons and stars. By the time Hamid stopped talking, he wished he could have met her. Even managed to tell Hamid that. By that time, of course, the halfling had fallen back asleep. The imprint of his dragon ancestry was so much more visible now, if one knew what to look for.
And as he wheeled himself out of the room, Zolf felt the trickle of magic flowing through his veins. How weird without a god.
Zolf knew he couldn't stay. That he would have to leave again. There still was so much he needed to figure out. But he would have breakfast with the crew tomorrow. He doubted he would talk much with Sasha, but he had missed sitting next to her, not needing words. He would apologise to her for leaving. He knew she would understand, probably more than he deserved. And he really would write those letter. And one day, if they survived long enough, if the world didn't go entirely to shit, he would see them again.
(Sasha came back for breakfast the next day, alone. Apparently, Wilde had nearly died, and Grizzop was trying to figure a way to help him.
Zolf sat with her next to the sea. Taught her how to catch and prepare crabs. Then he left for Lebanon. He had gotten one more lead on those storms.)