Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The decline started on the equivalent of Wednesday.

The Krew has spent the week prior traveling. Kremy had heard rumors of a merchant who had access to supplies of all sorts of magical items that they could use to speedily reopen Carnival LeCroux. Supposedly, this merchant would be located in a city nearby their current location, and whether they would take the items by trade or by force was up in the air.

Having reached the town earlier that day, they all settled into a tavern. Known as the Windydoo, it was a small place: two stories, a musty bar downstairs, and six tiny bedrooms with thin, creaky walls upstairs. This meant that the sounds of Kremy’s shouting carried throughout the whole building and out into the night.

“BARON HELP ME, IF I SEE YOU HERE IN THE MORNING GIDEON COAL!”

Gideon's thunderous roar back was just as audible, “IF YOU SEE ME YOU’LL WHAT? YOU NO GOOD CROCODILE.”

Kremy and Gideon stood at opposite ends of one of the small bedrooms with the rest of the Krew huddled in the doorway, having overheard the escalation of the argument from their various rooms.

“CROCODILE?!?! YOU KNOW I AM AN ALLIGATOR, YOU BITCH.”

“OHHHH YOU- HOLD ME BACK GRICKO, I SWEAR I’M GONNA PUNCH HIM IN THE BODY!”

“Mmm, I’m tryin’ Gideon, but yer too- too tall.” Gricko grunted out, jumping as he tried to get a grip on Gideon’s arm.

“Maybe if you could explain what this is about. You have never fought like this before.” Frost suggested before pausing, “At least not with each other. Gideon has threatened to punch many people in the body.”

“Toooorrbeeeck is wooooorieeed,” Torbeck added.

Kremy attempted to compose himself, “It’s nothin’ you lot should concern yourselves with. Gideon just overstepped and started questioning my authority.” He turned back to face Gideon, “Now Gideon it just so happens I have one spell slot left for today, so would you kindly find lodging for the night at a different inn. I believe there is a place down the road called the Foxglove that should do the trick.” His stomach twisted unnaturally as the enchantment left his mouth and the words left nausea in their wake.

But the spell was cast. Gideon scowled and, for the first time, tried to push off Kremy’s enchantment. His efforts were futile, and a glazed blankness overtook the genasi’s face as he turned sharply and walked out of the room, shoving past the rest of the Krew. Nobody made an effort to stop him, knowing that Kremy’s magic would make it pointless.

“I believe I speak for everyone when I say: what the fuck, Kremy?” Frost said, stunned.

Kremy dismissed the statement with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand, praying that the others wouldn’t see the tears beginning to form and the way his fingers trembled. He took a breath before giving orders, “Everyone should go to bed, we have a busy day tomorrow. Once everyone is up, we will go pick up G-Gideon from the Foxglove and then begin looking for the merchant.”

The Krew nodded hesitantly. Gricko, Frost, and Torbeck headed back to their rooms, leaving Twig staring at Kremy. The brownie had been uncharacteristically silent during the incident, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“What’dya want Twig.”

“I have a thing for you.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, a thing!”

Twig handed Kremy a strange, palm-sized, hexagonal-shaped piece of dark grey metal.

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome. You looked like you were gonna boggart out, even though I’m the only one who can do that, but I guess you have your shadow.”

Kremy let out a shuddering sigh and smiled slightly, “Get some sleep Twig.”

“Okay!” She chirped. With that, she turned and left, a small smile playing on her lips.

Once the brownie left, Kremy found himself alone. He attempted to put the thoughts from his mind as he began readying himself for bed. As he rested his head against the thin pillows, the waves of guilt began to tighten around his stomach, making him nauseated. It didn’t seem like it could get any worse until the smell of cigar smoke filled his nostrils. It was stronger than usual, and it caused Kremy to choke. He’d clearly done something to displease the good Baron, but as Kremy racked his brain, he couldn’t think of anything. Unless. Maybe it was the argument: gods, the argument. The fight between him and Gid began to replay in his head, as the choking feeling subsided, a sign of the Baron turning his attention elsewhere. Not that Kremy really noticed. He regretted everything he said during the fight and was of half a mind to run to the Foxglove to beg for forgiveness. But that would be the cowardly thing to do, and besides, Kremy justified to himself as he tried to get comfortable in the squeaky bed, he was in the right, and Gideon would see that tomorrow and apologize. Right?

Chapter Text

It all went to shit on the equivalent of Thursday

Kremy had tried to sleep until approximately 1 in the morning, and nothing had come of it, so he stood up abruptly and began pacing. At approximately 2 in the morning, he had come to a conclusion; he missed Gideon.

The conclusion was obvious in theory; Gideon was his best friend. He and the genasi always roomed together, unless Gideon was otherwise occupied with a local girl. It was cheaper, Kremy always reasoned. Besides, he was cold-blooded, and Gid was unreasonably hot (from a temperature standpoint), and if it felt good to wake up next to him, then that was just the sense of safety from being near his bodyguard, best friend, and totally ironic husband. Completely logical that they share a single bedroom.

Gideon being gone meant that Kremy missed all of that, and he clearly wasn’t comfortable falling asleep in such an unfamiliar place. What if someone attacked him after overhearing Gideon leave? Or what if

It was approximately 2:30 in the morning when Kremy finally made up his mind. He donned his boots, threw a long coat over his sleeping clothes, packed his bags, and, after quietly leaving them in Frosty’s room, set out into the night in the direction of the Foxglove Bed & Breakfast.

The walk was quiet, and Kremy arrived quickly without incident, rehearsing an apology on the way. The Foxglove was a small, one-story, purple building on the outskirts of the town. It was nicer than the Windydoo, with well-cared-for gardens outside filled with starlike white flowers. As Kremy plodded his way up the path, a noise from the north caught his attention; a whistle sounded shrilly across the night air, accompanied by a rhythmic chugging noise. It sounded a lot like the way Gideon’s manacles did when he powered up for combat. He may be taking his frustration with me out on some unsuspecting trees, Kremy reasoned.

“Gideon?” He called out into the night, “Are ya’ out there?”

He paused for a minute, listening for a noise or some sort of reply, but the whistle never sounded, the rumbling faded away after a moment, and there was no call back. If Gideon was out in the woods, he must have gotten the last of his rage out and was probably heading back now. Kremy turned and continued on up the path before making his way into the building.

“Do ya have a reservation?” A bored voice drawled at him from a desk across the room.

“Whatdado, the name’s Kremy Lecroux and I’m lookin’ for someone.” Kremy introduced himself while looking around the room he had walked into

It was clearly intended initially to be a living area and had been converted to a makeshift lobby for this B&B. A fire crackled in a fireplace at one end of the room, where two chairs were placed facing it. There were two doors on either side of the desk across from the entrance, where a half-elf girl sat painting her nails, feet propped up on the desk. A ledger sat open on the desk, and Kremy could make out Gideon’s scrawled signature, but not anything more.

“I’m going to need more to go on then that.” the half-elf said, not bothering to look up at him.

“Well he’s a fire genasi, bout ye high, flamin beard and hair. Ya can’t miss him.”

“Ohhhh that guy. He came in here in a real huff, made me mess up my nails.” She held up her hand to him as proof, “It was real weird too, he came in, booked a room and then stormed outta the place.”

“Has he come back?” Kremy’s voice came out a bit forced, and it caused the woman to look up.

“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t. Weird.” She refocused her attention on her hand, “He was sayin somethin about a drink. I dunno, didn’t really care enough to listen.”

Kremy sighed, nodded and turned to leave, “Thank you for your time miss. Would ya mind if I sat here until he gets back?”

She didn’t respond, so he sat down by the fire and waited.

According to the clock on the mantle, it was 4:00 in the morning when Kremy decided to leave. He’d been waiting for just shy of an hour, and Gideon was a no-show. He thought it best to retrace Gideon's steps, so he got directions to the local bar from the woman and set out.

It was approximately 4:30 in the morning when Kremy reached the bar. It was on the nicer side with tall stone walls and a few stacks of barrels outside. The door was locked when he reached it, and through the window, he could see a halfling sweeping the floors, but no Gideon.

Kremy was getting frustrated, was able to feel the exhaustion overtaking him, and he lashed his tail from side to side. He let out a frustrated yell into the night air. It felt so unfair; of course, the one time he would go out of his way to make things right with a person would be a wild goose chase. As he stood on the stoop, still seething with guilt and frustration, the halfling opened the door behind him.

“Sir? I regret to inform you that we are closed and we don’t offer room and board. Is there something I can help you with? I could refer you to one of our local inns, taverns, or B&B’s.” The halfling's tone was apologetic, with apparent exhaustion in the edges of his words.

“Wattado, there is somethin’ you can help me with, actually. See I’m looking for some-”

“Oh so you’re the ‘boss’ that red guy was crying about earlier.”

“-one. What?”

“Yeah. He showed up outta nowhere, nearly blowing my damned door off of its hinges by the way, got a few drinks and started moping about some gatorkin he kept calling ‘boss.’”

“That would be me. Do you know where he went?”

“Yup, headed off that way with a couple of goblinoids.” The Halfling gestured northward

Kremy’s stomach twisted, but he tried to ignore it. Goblinoids didn’t necessarily mean hobgoblins like the ones that had tormented Gideon; he hadn’t seen Gricko and Torbek before he’d left the Windydoo, maybe they were the goblinoids being referred to. He steadied his nerves and asked, “W-what did these goblinoids look like?”

“Well, see I’m not normally inclined to give out information on my patrons, I’ve already told you more than I should’ve. You’ll have to make it worth my while.”

Kremy gritted his teeth at this man’s stubbornness, but he didn’t have time to haggle; Gideon could be in danger, and he handed over 10 gold pieces from his coat pocket.

“Well that’s alright I suppose. They were red probably some kind of hobgoblin if I had t-”

Kremy didn't wait for the man to finish his statement; he sprinted northward, cursing inwardly, blind panic clouding any sense he had. Ensuring nothing kept him from reaching his goal, he charged out of the town and into the woods.

It was approximately 5:00 in the morning when Kremy had to admit he was lost. The woods loomed in every direction, and the sky was beginning to brighten with the promise of sunrise. He was still in his pajamas and overcoat, missing his pocket watch and top hat. He hadn’t rested long enough to regain any spells yet. Kremy, for the first time since their adventures in the Feywild, felt helpless. He crumpled to his knees in exhaustion, his eyes begging to let the tears spill over.

It was approximately 5:03. Kremy lay there sobbing into the ground when- thunk, a metal object fell out of his jacket pocket. The little metal hexagon Twig had given him lay on the ground and suddenly sparked, once, twice, then exploded. Of course, Twig would have given him a fucking bomb. But, wait, as the smoke cleared, the metal bit was still intact and was now transparent. He held it up,p amazed as the glass shifted colors depending on the way he turned it. As Kremy focused the lens northeast, it vibrated in his hand, and he nearly dropped it again. Managing to keep his grip, he held his eye up to the lens and was able just to make out the outline of Gideon, magnified though the trees. Twig that little genius brownie had known exactly what he had needed. It was 5:10 when he stood and resumed sprinting. Kremy would not let anyone take his genasi, not today.

It was 5:20 when he saw the first glimpses of the train. A towering metal behemoth, stretching for miles behind him and at least in front of him. It glowed red with hellfire in the metal seams and looked to be held together by various scraps of metal.

As Kremy broke out of the tree line into a clearing, he watched as a red goblinoid with elongated, bulbous features, and a simple brown and black tunic and pants combo boarded what appeared to be a passenger car, slamming the door shut behind it. There were no signs of other activity in the surroundings. As Kremy looked around, again holding the lens up to his eye, he was able to make out Gid’s form in the frontmost train car.

It was 5:23 when the train started grinding to life. The wheels began to move with loud metallic shrieks. Kremy ran faster, desperately trying to reach the first car before the train picked up speed.

It was 5:26 when he heard Gideon cry out in agony. The train glowed in familiar shades of orange and red as fire spurted out of the undercarriage. Kremy felt his blood run cold, and he was yelling in return, to try to let Gideon know that he was there, that he was coming to help. The train was moving faster now, and the

It was 5:28 when the train started moving faster than Kremy. He continued sprinting, begging his legs to move faster, but his efforts were for naught. As a last-ditch attempt, he leaped to try to grab onto the train and haul himself on, but a burst of fire caught his shoulder. Kremy fell back to the ground, landing on his stomach, coat smoldering and charred but luckily not aflame. He let out a cry of pain and fear as the train sped off.

It was 5:29 when Kremy ripped his shadow from his body and threw it towards the train. His shadow and the trains merged before he saw it take form on the roof. It tipped its hat at him and melted back into the train.

It was 5:30 in the morning on the equivalent of Thursday. Gideon was gone, taken by the very fate he had been running from for most of his life, and it was all Kremy’s fault.

Chapter Text

Gideon was fucked. He was fucked in all the ways except for the fun one.

He was chained inside the engine car of the hulking train. His old manacles had been discarded, and the new ones were essentially fingerless metal gloves that kept him from using his hands, as if that mattered when his arms were pulled tight behind him. His legs were chained to the floor to keep him from kicking out. Around his neck was a metal collar that was similarly attached to the back wall.

Gideon struggled the entire time that he had been chained. The panic was overwhelming, and he couldn’t see straight as he suddenly felt 18 years old again. That was until the manacles tightened suddenly, stabbing sharply into his skin. In addition to pulling Gid back to reality, the manacles pulled the fire from his skin, his muscles, his blood. It racked him with searing, unbearable pain across his whole body. It felt hundreds of times worse than he had remembered. He let out a feral, agonized noise; a scream of raw, unfiltered, unforgiving pain, as his body flailed out as much as the chains would allow. If he were closer to the back wall, he would have given himself a concussion with how hard his head flew backward. Through the daze, he thought he could make out someone yelling back to him, but his thoughts were so distorted by agony that he couldn’t make out who.

The pain began to lessen; the manacles had pulled as much fire as they could without killing him. Clearly, the hobgoblins planned to keep him alive for as long as possible. As Gideon strained one final time, the exhaustion overwhelmed his body, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Gideon’s dreams mingled with his memories, and he found himself sitting on the foot of Kremy’s bed as the gatorkin paced the length of his room in Roslov’s cottage. He tried to keep focus on the plan they were constructing to find the merchant, but his traitorous brain was busy noticing how nice Kremy’s ass looked. Gideon had been noticing more about Kremy recently: how he always woke up early to make the Krew breakfast, how he took special care to draw on his pencil-thin mustache, and most of all, how damn sexy he could be even when he wasn’t trying. It was distracting, honestly. Not that this attraction would go anywhere, he would never act on it, and he was sure as hell that Kremy didn’t feel the same.

“Gid, what do y- Gid. Giiiid. You listenin’ to me, or are you too busy staring at my ass?”

“Fuck. Sorry Krem, I’ll stop.” Gideon mumbled

Kremy stopped and stared at him, “Wait, what?”

“I said I’ll stop starin’ at yer ass, jeez!”

“I… I was messin with ya, I didn’t think you were actually staring!”

“And I said I’d stop!” Gideon was sure his face was even redder than usual, and his hair was burning brighter.

Kremy took a breath and then took a small step closer to Gideon, a smirk forming on his mouth and a mischievous look in his eyes as he looked Gideon up and down slowly. “I mean, you don’t have to stop staring, if you don’t wanna.” Kremy said slowly, temptingly, “In fact, I could be persuaded to give you a closer look.”

Well, what in all of Avantris was he supposed to say to that? Gideon was floored with shock. Never in a million years did he think Kremy would ever say something like that to him.

Well, f-fuck Krem, t-that is a mighty fine offer.” He stumbled over his words a bit as he tried and failed to match Kremy’s energy, “One I just might take you up on. If you let me try somethin’ first.”

Kremy grinned back and took another step closer. Their knees were almost touching now, Gideon sitting on the bed and Kremmy standing over him, “I did say persuade me, after all.”

Being given the go-ahead, Gideon stood, put one arm around Kremy’s waist, cupped his cheek with the other palm and pulled the gatorkin in for a kiss. Gideon wanted to stay in this moment forever (and especially the ones that followed it), but a sharp pain suddenly struck his cheek, pulling him abruptly from the dream back to his awful reality.

A hobgoblin stood before him, illuminated by small threads of daylight. The creature stood at about five and a half feet, with red skin, a bulbous nose, and enlarged ears. She prodded his nose with a finger, smiling cruelly. In her other hand was a strange metal contraption that Gideon couldn’t make out. Gideon felt colder and weaker than he had ever been, but it wouldn’t stop him from fighting back. He attempted to bite at the finger, but the hobgoblin was able to move it out of the way in time.

The smile somehow got bigger as she began to chide him, “Tsk tsk, boy. Slaves shouldn’t bite their masters, this means punishment.”

“Fuck off.”

“That mouth of yours is a real issue. You almost got us caught earlier, did you know? A deranged crocodile man was chasing after us, and our intelligence decided he must have heard you.”

“He is an alligator, you bitch.” Gideon bit out. Hope blossomed slightly in his chest. Kremy knew he was here! Kremy had come looking for him! Even after Gideon had fucked things up between them so badly.

“So you do know him! How splendid! We weren’t completely sure!. But, oh no, he sounds dear to you.” The hobgoblin's eyes shone with malice and delight as she feigned distress, “I hate to inform you that we have disposed of him. He posed a threat to us and we had to neutralize him.”

Gideon didn’t believe him. He couldn’t. Kremy was the one constant in his life since he escaped. If Kremy was gone, then that meant it had happened again, and the people dearest to him were stripped away before he could apologize, before Gideon could tell them how important they were to him. Gideon’s unintelligible shouts ripped through the air like knives as he felt warmth return to his skin, his hair and beard flared with an angry flare of fire, causing the hobgoblin to falter. She regained her composure after a moment and adopted a puzzled expression. Gideon slumped forward at the exertion, losing a great deal of the fight that was in him.

“Oh how curious! That was a reaction I didn’t expect. Hmm, I must go report this. First though.” The hobgoblin produced the metal muzzle she had been holding and began to fasten it around Gideon’s jaw, “This is so we don’t have any more screaming or biting mishaps. Be good now, we’re going to need a speed boost soon.”

And with that, the hobgoblin set off. As she left, Gideon could have sworn he saw her shadow move independently. The muzzle was cold and heavy, pulling his head down unless he took considerable effort to pull it up.

Then the pain began again. It was just as agonizing as the first time; Gideon felt like he was being ripped apart at the seams as the manacles pulled every bit of fire they could from beneath his skin. It was worse this time, though, with his mouth clamped shut by the muzzle, Gideon could only grit his teeth as the pain coursed through his body. Just like last time, the moment the torment began to ebb to a dull throb, Gideon fell unconscious.

His dreams took him back into his memories; this time to a tent in the woods on their way to the town. It was cold, or so he had been told. The autumn chill had begun to descend on the area, and the sun's disappearance caused the temperature to drop significantly. Gideon had been awoken by a nightmare. The nightmare. That dream of smoke and metal and pain and hell. He got it often, and no matter how many times he’d had it, it still frightened the living daylights out of him. As he got his bearings, Gideon heard someone let out a shaky sigh from outside where they were keeping watch. He decided to go outside to keep them company, and to his delight, he saw Kremy sitting there, wrapped in several blankets, as close to the fire as he could be without setting anything on fire. His joy quickly turned to worry when he saw how badly the gatorkin was shivering. Gideon coughed slightly to make his presence known and sat down next to Krem, who let out a small squeak of surprise.

“Mind if I keep ya company?”

“Of course Gid. Can I ask what you’re doin up? You don’t have watch for another hour yet.”

“Nightmare,” Gideon mumbled, a little embarrassed. Kremy knew about Gideon's occasional night terrors, but it still made him feel like a little bitch to admit that he was frightened by his dreams.

“The train?”

Gideon nodded as Kremy turned to look at him. The gatorkin’s pupils dilated slightly, and he scooted a little closer to Gideon.

“Hey Gid?”

“Yeah?”

“ ‘S just real cold and the fire ain’t really doin anything. Could I..?”

“O’ course.”

Gideon wrapped his arm around Kremy, who snuggled into his side, head resting on Gideon’s shoulder, blankets clutched tightly to his body. It felt good. Being next to Kremy made his worries melt away in a way that he wished he could tell Krem. But the way Gideon saw it, it would be too dangerous for them. The lifestyle they lived wasn’t one for long-term romances and goofy little love stories. He didn’t want to be stuck like his Pa; hung up over someone who left him to dry in favor of their own grand destiny, and while he would do anything for Kremy, kindly asked or not, sometimes Gideon wasn’t sure that Kremy would stick around. Not when he was so capable, and with that Baron of his taking a special interest in him an’ all. And for another thing, even if Kremy didn’t leave, Gideon didn’t wanna risk hurting anyone. It was better to just leave things at one and done. One-night stands, sloppy alleyway hookups, and beating the shit outta goons were good enough ways as any to fill his physical desires. Gideon continued trying to reassure himself of these things as he and Kremy sat cuddled together by the fire.

A minute turned into an hour as the pair sat in silence, and it was around this time that Kremy asked if Gideon wanted a smoke, and they shared a cigarette and a cigar, respectively. They continued to sit in silence as they smoked, the fire crackling softly, the crickets chirping in the woods around them. Kremy looked up and opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and closed his jaw. When they had finished the smokes, Kremy nuzzled up against Gideon again, practically sitting on his lap, and proceeded to fall asleep.

“You’re the best, Gid.” Kremy mumbled, his head resting on Gideon's chest.

Gideon felt his heart begin to break. Starting from where Kremy’s head rested, the threads of longing and remorse began to choke him, wrapping around his lungs and squeezing. In an effort of self-preservation, he picked Kremy up and carried the gatorkin over to his tent. Ignoring the way his heart pounded in his chest, Gideon tucked Kremy in and then went to keep watch.

In the waking world, Gideon took deep, slow breaths as the day passed him by, comatose as he was. The train continued to speed along to its destination, burning brightly as it went.

Chapter Text

It was 7 o’clock on the equivalent of Thursday when Kremy had finally navigated his way back to the Windydoo.

He ran upstairs and barged into Frost’s room, where the tabaxi was sitting, cross-legged on the floor, meditating. Kremy stood in the doorway, panting, still in his PJs, generally looking like a disheveled mess. Frost wordlessly raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh don’t you look at me like that.” Kremy gasped between heaving breaths, “Gid’s been grabbed.”

“Grabbed? As in a sexual context or in a kidnapping context?”

“Why in the hell would it be sexual Frost?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you finally acknowledged your unresolved feelings for him and decided to do something about it, setting off in the middle of the night, only to find Gideon otherwise occupied with a local girl?”

“No, Frost. Where in the world would you have gotten that idea fro- Nevermind that, I mean grabbed as in kidnapped. Gid’s been taken by those stupid fucking hobgobins on their stupid fucking train its all my stupid fucking fault. Now, I’m gonna go wake Torbek. You go get Gricko, and we are settin’ off post haste after that train!” After issuing the order, Kremy turned to leave but felt Frost’s mind hand pull him back, “What?!”

The tabaxi had an uncharacteristically worried expression on his face as he stood up and walked toward Kremy. He placed a hand on Kremy’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes, “Kremy, I understand your concern but we cannot be trusted impulsive. It may only place Gideon in more danger.”

“I don’t need a lecture right now Frosty, what I need is to get Gid back.” Kremy snapped in response.

Frost looked like he wanted to reply, but instead nodded and slipped out of the room past Keremy, entering Gricko’s room next door. Kremy walked down the hall and slammed Torbeck’s door open, causing the bugbear to startle awake and fall out of the bed.

“Be in my room in 5 minutes. We need to make a plan.”

“What’s going onnnn, Mr. Kremy? Did Torbeck oversleeeep?”

“No. Get movin’ and if you’re late, Baron have mercy on your soul, cause I for sure as hell won’t.” With that, Kremy slammed the door shut again and stormed down the hall back to his and Gideon's his room. Frost was standing in the hall with a tired Gricko and a sobbing Twig. Kremy gestured for them to follow him, and they did. Torbeck joined them soon after.

“Now, I understand that we had a plan for today.” Kremy began. He was sitting on the bed, and the others crowded around him, some standing, others sitting on the floor. He had just finished recounting the night's events to the Krew, cutting out the parts about apologizing and whatnot; he couldn’t afford to look weak right now, not even in front of his friends business associates. “Pick up Gid, travel to the city, find the merchant, and profit. Well, toss that out the window. Gideon’s been kidnapped by those filthy hobgoblins, and we are gonna have to get him back before anything else happens.”

“H-how did they even g-get him?” Twig mumbled, her sobs quieting to sniffles.

“They… well, they… huh. I didn’t really find that out. I only heard that he had been seen leaving the bar with them, then when I followed his last known path to the train, I… I… I heard him scream… as the train pulled away.” Kremy trailed off as he relived the morning in his head.

“Well then we should find that out. In addition, I am incredibly confused as to why this village is still standing. According to Gideon’s stories, the hobgoblins razed his village to the ground, killing everyone in their path. Yet we would have been none the wiser to their presence here if they had not decided to kidnap our friend.” Frost added, “I believe we should start in the village. In addition to important context, maybe someone there can give us a clue to the trains next few stops, so we can potentially get ahead, instead of just blindly following the tracks.”

“I don’t know about that Frosty, we can't risk Gid getting to far away or to hurt.”

Gricko spoke next, “I dunno Kremy. Frosty makes a good point. An’ I’m not so sure you're in any shape to be goin’ anywhere.”

“Torbeck agreeeees with Mr Frost and Mr. Gricko. Mr. Gideon could be annnnywheeere at this point.” Torbeck said, just wanting to be a part of the conversation.

Then it seems I’m outvoted, gentlemen, unless Twig and Hootsy want to weigh in on my side.” Kremy remarked.

“Nope!” Twig said. She was still teary-eyed, but with the glimpses of a plan forming, some of her old spark was returning to her, “I like Frost’s idea.”

“An’ you know Hootsy only votes if there’s a tie.” Gricko added, “plus I’m lettin’ ‘er get a few more minutes of beau’y sleep, she doesn’t need to be here for all this depressing planning.”

“Fine then. But the minute we know where that damned train is goin’ we’re headin’ out, ya hear?” Kremy said. The Krew nodded in response as he continued, “I’m gonna head out now, see if I can get anymore information from that good for nothin’ bartender.”

Kremy stood up sharply to leave and almost instantly got lightheaded. The room spun around him as he fell back down onto the bed.

“Mr. Kremy!” Torbeck shouted in alarm.

“I don’t fink you’re in any state to go searchin’ or interamogatin’ anyone, Kremy.” Gricko observed, “In my professional medical opinion, you should take a nap. You look like you haven’t slept at all.”

“No. It’s my fault he got taken in the first place-”

“And you’ll make it up to him by rescuing him. We can’t afford to have our leader running on low energy and no spell slots. Take the fucking nap.” Frost ordered. Kremy hated the fact that Frost’s logic made sense, as it usually did.

“I said-”

“Twig, can you do the thing?” Gricko interrupted.

“I sure can!” The brownie giggled ominously, rubbing her hands together. She flew up in front of Kremy’s and, before he could do anything, blew a puff of pleasant-smelling glitter into his face. Kremy coughed and sputtered in disbelief as he inhaled the powder. He began to get drowsy as the last thing he heard was Torbek’s voice, grating against his eardrums, “Don’t worry, Mr. Kremyyy. We’ll take care of things while you sleeeeeep.”

And Kremy, filled with all the worries, passed out cold.

Kremy dreamt of a familiar graveyard. It was the one near his childhood home in the Whipperwillow swamp. It was one of the drier areas in the town as nobody wanted their loved one’s body to float away in the murky waters that covered the rest of the area. He sat on a bench facing inward at the rows and rows of headstones. It was illuminated by little orbs of light pulsing in neon greens and purples. The waning moon shone above, a small sliver of silver in the sky that was otherwise covered in clouds. A single beam of light seemed to illuminate two gravestones in particular. Kremy stood and approached, walking past the names of strangers. As he walked, ominous jazz began to play around him, first faintly but getting louder and louder as he approached the tombstones bathed in light. He stopped, looked down, and froze. Like all the others, carved into the stones were names and dates. Familiar names. The first stone bore two names, one rendered illegible by claw marks scraped through it, the other read ‘Better known as: Kremy Lecroux’, followed by a birth date. Curiously, the stone was lacking a death date. And similarly in the other stone read ‘Gideon Coal’ followed by Gid’s birthday. Kremy closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath, laced with the smell of cigar smoke. He couldn’t bear to read what came next.

Gideon's death day was set for 7 days into the future, on the next equivalent of Thursday.

Chapter Text

Mr. Kremy was out cold on the bed. While the rest of the Krew exchanged worried glances and quietly left the room, Torbek stayed behind. His feelings about the gatorkin were complicated; on the one hand, Torbek detested Kremy’s deceitful nature and the way he viewed everyone as expendable. Torbek could count on his horribly mangled fingers how many times Kremy has been truly genuine with him. And yet on the other hand, Torbek admired the determination, cleverness, and resourcefulness with which Kremy approached tasks, and those few and far between moments of genuine connection between them had given a deeper insight into the man behind the top hat and toothy smirk. Thus, against his better judgment (of which he had little), Torbek had long since come to view his former boss as family, like an older brother of sorts. Besides, everyone had a family member that they weren’t the most fond of, and you couldn’t choose your found family.

These sentiments were what led to Torbek helping Kremy out of his coat and tucking him into his bed. Twigs sleeping dust worked fast; it was clear the gatorkin was already beginning to dream. Torbek was working on putting the coat on a coat hanger, a task made difficult by the twisted nature of his hands and fingers, when Kremy began to thrash in the bed. As his eyelids fluttered rapidly, he began to whisper nearly unintelligibly, “Gid… no… do anything…” Torbek looked on worriedly but had no clue what to do; he was the one who had nightmares, not the one who comforted those having them. In the end, he decided that it would be smartest to leave and alert the others. They would know what to do.

In the hallway stood the rest of the Krew. Torbek explained the situation and looked at them for ideas.

Frost was the first to respond, “That was smart. Thank you, Torbek.”

“Torbek just wanted to help Mr. Kremy. Is there aaaaany way to help with the niiiightmaaare?”

“No, unfortunately. I tried to assist with my psionics the first time I learned he had them, only to find out that the nightmares were a key way his Patron contacted him. Quite similar to you and your Other actually, though admittedly with some key differences.”

“Right, Frosty, what are we gonna do?” Gricko changed the subject as Torbek nodded thoughtfully.

“I say we divide up into teams of two. One group heads to the bar to collect information on the hobgoblins. The others should stay here and interview some of the patrons and meet us at the bar when Kremy wakes up. We’ll decide what to do from there.”

“You’re so intely-gent Frosty. I’ll stay here to talk to peoples so Hootsy can get some more sleep, she’s a growin’ owlbear after all.”

Torbek chimed in next, “Torbeeeek will gooo to the baaaar. Torbek can be intimidating when Torbek waaaaants to beeeee.”

“I’ll stay with Gricko.” Twig added, “It’ll probably be better if I’m here when Kremy wakes up, since I can dispel any remaining sleepy time powder!”

“That works out well then. Torbek, is there anything you need before we leave?”

“Nooooo. Wellll maaaaybeee some alcohal to quiet the voiiicessss, but Torbek can get that there.”

“Sounds like a plan then.” Frost said. The group all exchanged nods and worried glances as they set out on their missions.

Torbek and Frost set out quickly, both already dressed and ready (Frost because he rose early to mediate, Torbek because he slept in his singular set of clothes). They made their way in relative silence, both internally contemplating the task at hand. Interrogation was neither of their strong suits, and being down Gideon’s intimidating presence and Mr. Kremy’s silver tongue was definitely worrying. Not to mention the stakes associated with this specific situation, Gideon’s life and freedom relied on their being able to get this information. Torbek lived in a state of constant anxiety already; this was enough to send him over into a panic attack, and yet he held his own; Mr. Kremy was relying on them, on him (however unwittingly).

“Torbek, I believe I have a plan for when we arrive.” Frost interrupted his train of thought.

“Okaaaay, Torbek is alllll ears.”

“I can use my psionic abilities to read the minds of the people at the bar; however, to do so will require immense concentration. I will need you to discuss the hobgoblins with them so their minds turn to the subject and reveal the truth.”

“Whaaat should Torbek saaaay?”

“Bringing up the train should be a subtle way to broach the subject, then, if we need more information, mention Gideon’s disappearance at my signal.”

“That sounds good to Tooorbeeek.” A thought struck him, “But what if they find out you’re in their heaaaads? Or- or what if they don’t give away anything useful? What are we going to do theeen?”

“We can improvise then. As much as I would prefer to plan for everything, one thing I have learned from adventuring is that things rarely go to plan, but that could just be because of the witchlight. Or Gricko.” Frost responded, placing a comforting hand on Torbek’s shoulder, a rare show of physical affection from the tabaxi.

Frost’s response had calmed his nerves somewhat, “Thaaaanks, Frost. You always know what to do.”

Torbek barely caught his friend’s reply as he muttered under his breath, “If only that were true,” and the pair continued in silence towards the bar.

Hootsy was still sound asleep and cuddling with Pigtunia when Gricko checked in on her after the meeting. It was a relief; Gideon's kidnapping had everyone on edge, and Gricko was quite worried Hootsy would be next. Never mind the fact that there were significant differences between the two; who wouldn't want a cute, adorable, talented pygmy owlbear? Exactly. But if Gricko was being honest with himself, he knew he was only worrying about Hootsy so that he wouldn’t worry about Gideon, one of his best lads, held captive in a fate many would call worse than death. He had to stay strong for Twig and Hootsy after all.

“Twigsy, anythin’ you need, or should we go downstairs to get some food and talk to someone.”

“I’m good. I want to help Gideon as soon as I can. So, come on!” Twig darted off.

Gricko grinned grimly and set off downstairs to the lower floor of the tavern, where a small breakfast service was offered. A few people were sitting at tables around the room, and a bartender was serving coffees and stronger beverages to patrons. Gricko walked confidently up to the bar and pulled himself up into a seat. The bartender was an older human man with neatly trimmed white hair and a mustache.

“Hello there, sir, I am interested in potentially making a purchase with you.” Gricko said, overly formal.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, “What kind of purchase? We have a variety of products here, is there something specific I could interest you in?”

“Indeed there is! I ‘appen to be in the market for some information.” Gricko wiggled his eyebrows, “But I wouldn’t say no to some tarts or whatever other stuffs you have.”

“I’ll take, ummmm, one beezleberry muffin.” Twig interjected.

“We don’t haff those on the material plane, Twigsy.” Gricko muttered to her.

Twig’s eyes widened, and she murmured, “No beezleberries?!”

“Come on, we’ve told you this before!”

“No you haven’t, I would have remembered no beezleberries.”

“Never mind.” Twig had definitely been notified of this fact beforehand and would doubtlessly have to be reminded again, “The lady meant a blueberry muffin, good sir.”

“No, I did no-”

Gricko shot a look at Twig, and she stopped talking to shoot her own look back. The bartender looked back and forth between the two; his eyebrows were raised so far up his head that they were about to reach his hairline. He eventually nodded and returned his attention to Gricko, “Is there anything I can get you before we see about the first part of your request? Something to drink perhaps?”

“No, fank you, but I will have a muffin as well, what kinds do you have?”

“Well, obviously, we have a blueberry muffin.”

“Okay.”

“A raspberry muffin.”

“Okay.”

“A chocolate chip muffin.”

“Okay.”

“And a cinnamon swirl muffin.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Gricko spoke, “Oh is that all?”

“Yes? Why would there be any more muffins?”

“Damn.” Gricko’s ears drooped slightly, “I wanted a cherries-berries muffin. Guess I’ll starve!”

The bartender paused with a confused expression before shaking his head and saying, “Just the blueberry muffin then?”

“Yup!”

“Very well, I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Twig was still grumbling over the lack of beezleberries as Gricko turned to face her, “So what’s our angle here Twigsy? How do we wanna make this guy talk?”

A mischievous grin crossed her face, “Good paladin, bad paladin?”

“Definitely. I call bad paladin!”

“No fair, you were bad paladin last time!” Twig pouted.

“Fiiiiine… we can both be bad paladin!”

“Yesssssss!” Twig squealed with glee and kicked her legs in the air.

The Bartender returned a moment later, setting the muffin down in front of Twig. The brownie ignored the baked good completely. Hopping up on the counter and shoving her finger in the bartender’s face, “WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT GIDEON?” She yelled, getting the attention of the entire bar.

“Gideon?” The bartender asked, raising his hands, “I’ve never met a Gideon before.”

“A likely story.” Twig mused, unconvinced, “Fine, then what do you know about TRAINS.”

Gricko climbed on the counter as well, so he was now a full head taller than the bartender and grabbed the man’s shirt collar, “YOU ‘EARD THE LADY, WHATD’YA KNOW ABOUT TRAINS!”

“What the hell?! I know nothing about trains, honest!” He didn’t quite meet Gricko’s gaze when he said the words, but whether that was because he was lying or because he was scared, Gricko didn’t know. The entire room had gone dead silent, with nobody sure what to do.

“You’re gonna tell me what you know, or else?”

“I said, I don’t know anything!” Gricko could tell that the man was definitely lying now; his face said everything.

“One more time; you’re gonna tell me the truth, or my brownie friend here will curse you into the equivalent of next Sunday.” Gricko threatened, summoning a displacer beast spirit to rise behind him for some extra theatrical intimidation.

“YEAH! I'M GONNA REARRANGE THE FUNCTIONS OF YOUR FACE! I'M GONNA MAKE YOU BARF FROGS! I'M GONNA MAKE YOU FEEL SOOOOOOO MUCH PAIN, IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY!” Twig screamed joyfully; she was really enjoying this.

The threats were incredibly effective. “Well, there’s just this one train that runs through here every so often, lotta people have gone missing around the same time. It’s run by hobgoblins or some such.” The man’s voice was shaking and growing more high-pitched with each sentence, “I’ve seen the mayor talking to them sometimes, and money exchanging hands, but that’s all I know, I swear! Please don’t curse me!”

“Thank you for your cooperation! However the state of your facial features is entirely up to my friend here, what do you think Twig? Should we leave him uncursed?”

“I don’t know! Can I just do his eyes and nose?”

“That, my dear brownie, is your decision.”

“YIPPEE! I don’t think I’ll do it though, that would be mean, and I’m not a mean paladin, I’m just a bad paladin.”

“That makes sense.” Gricko said as someone moved behind him, but he couldn’t really make out who because of the beastie spirit floating behind him.

“I think so too. We should go interrogate someone else now.”

A hand landed on Gricko’s shoulder before he could respond, and he jumped slightly.

“What in all the hells are you chucklefucks doin’?” Kremy’s voice was imperious and low, laced with venom. It was a voice Gricko had never heard Kremy use before, and he prayed that he’d never hear it again. He and Twig slowly turned to face Kremy, who was standing directly behind them, a hand on each of their shoulders, squeezing kind of painfully. He looked rested at first glance, wearing his snazzy purple suit, top hat perched upon his head, and pencil-thin mustache drawn on impeccably to his lower lip; however, those who knew him well, like Gricko did, could spot the circles under his eyes and the shake in his hands. Weirdly, his usually silver-grey eyes glinted with a soft magenta light, the same color as the liquid in the vials on Torbek’s back.

Kremy spoke again, not noticing the sympathetic expression that crossed Gricko’s face and releasing their shoulders, “I woke up to Twig screaming about trains. I can’t believe you imbeciles; you forced me to take a nap, and I at least expected you to be investigating Gid’s kidnapping while I was under. Instead I find you two still in the hotel, fuckin around with some bartender! I apparently have to do everything myself to get it done right or even at all. It’s like you don’t even care that he’s gone.” His delivery was harsh, the words clearly intended to hurt.

And they did; with the delivery of the last line, Twig burst into tears and flew away, back up the stairs. Gricko glared at Kremy, who glared right back. The bartender took his chance to escape and darted back into the back room.

“That is completely unfair and you know it.” Gricko lectured, trying not to let the hurt into his voice, “We are detectivimigating and doing our best. I was also trying to keep Twigs spirits up; you know how close she and Gideon are. When you told us he got kidnapped, she started bawling her eyes out and only got better when there was hope of getting it back. I don’t know what she’s gonna do now!”

As Gricko talked, the magenta glint faded from Kremy’s eyes. With a start, he clutched his head, letting out a moan of pain.

“Oh Baron, my head!”

There was a beat of silence as Kremy massaged his skull before Gricko spoke, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “Kremy?”

“Yes, Gricko?”

“Would you, um, like a banana?”

“That would be grea…” Kremy trailed off as realization struck him, “Oh fuck…”

“Twig?”

“Twig.”

“Why’d ya say that stuff, Kremy? It was really mean and

“I don’t know Gricko. My best guess would be feywild shenanigans as a result of the magical drugs you guys gave me.”

“We are not apologizing for that; however, you should go apologize to Twig.”

“I suppose you’re right, then maybe she can get rid of this fucking headache.”

Gricko rolled his eyes, “Sounds good, Kremy, I’ll sit here till you get back down, then we can go meet the others at the tavern.

“Right. I just want to ask, did ya learn anything from that guy?”

“Twig first, info later.”

Kremy nodded stiffly and opened his mouth to say something, but he paused, shut it, then, in a rush, quickly said, “An’ I'm sorry to you too, you didn’t deserve that, it’s clear that you guys were tryin’ to help.” With that, he turned around and walked back up the stairs, rubbing his temples as he went.

Gricko was dumbfounded. Kremy never apologized. Not to him anyway, and not unless he wanted something. Gideon and Twig were usually the only two the apologies were saved for, Twig because she could be as manipulative as Kremy when she set her mind to it, and Gideon because, well, Gideon and Kremy. Gricko felt it was a step in the right direction. The Krew all knew Kremy cared; he just showed it in his own special ways. He was kind of like a cat; they have that one person that they’re ok being physically affectionate with, and everyone else gets mice in their shoes, delivered quietly in the dead of night, just like Kremy and Gideon, and the fact that Kremy gave the Krew gifts that could be considered purely practical but had some sentiment attached to them as well.

Gricko swung his legs as he waited on the barstool. He noticed Twig’s forgotten blueberry muffin on the counter and took a bite. It was good! Not cherries, berries good, but good nonetheless.

Frost and Torbek had arrived at the bar quite quickly compared to Kremy’s ramblings the previous night, where they found the door locked. A small sign posted in the window showed the hours of operation.

“Ah, now that will pose a problem.”

“Whaaat is it, Frost?”

“The bar does not open until three o’clock pm.” Frost said, matter-a-factly.

“What time is it noooow?”

Frost looked up at the sky, analyzing the position of the sun, “By my calculations, it is nine o’clock, give or take an hour.”

“Oh nooooo!” Torbek moaned sadly.

“Are y’all lookin’ for somewhere to get a drink?” A cheery, effeminate voice called out to them. When Frost turned, he saw that it belonged to an elven woman with curly red hair, wearing a comfortable but professional pantsuit.

“We were just looking for someone. A man with red skin and flaming hair, have you seen him? Last we heard he was at this bar.”

The woman adopted a concerned expression, “No I haven’t, but it sounds like he’s missin’ right? That’s not good at all.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Frost said, then immediately let out an unconvincing cough, “It seems something I ate last night disagreed with my stomach. If you’d excuse me.” He walked away, sat on a barrel outside the bar and began using his psionic abilities to speak to Torbek.

‘Remember the plan Torbek, ask her questions and I’ll read her mind.’

‘Torbek won’t let you down, Frost.’ Was the bugbear’s reply.

Torbek almost immediately let Frost down when the next words out of his mouth were, “Ummmmm, come heeere ofteeen?”

“Yes, I pass by this spot occasionally on my morning walk. Now about your friend?”

“Riiiight, Torbek remembers now. Do you know anything about traaaains?”

Frost mentally facepalmed. Even if it wasn't particularly smart for the interrogation, at least this time the question was relevant and part of their previously made plan. His attention was diverted when he picked a thought from the woman’s mind, ‘Trains- wha… does he know? Is he on to us? No, he can’t know, we were so careful!’

“Well, I haven’t heard anything about trains; however, visitors have been going missing recently. If you want, I can direct you to the Foxglove Inn; my niece works there, and she might be able to help.” The woman kept her cool for the most part; if Frost wasn’t able to read her mind, he wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss in her demeanor. However, he did see her shift nervously, taking a few small steps back.

Instantly, he conveyed a thought to Torbek, ‘Keep pushing the subject, she knows something. Say that you saw the train.’

Torbek seemed to be getting the hang of things as he asked, “Are yooou suureee you know nooooothing about trains? Tooooorbek saw one just noooorth of here, heard it too.”

The woman’s face flushed slightly, “Are you callin’ me a liar? After I so graciously offered to help you folks!”

Her mind told a different story, ‘Fuck, he knows! He knows about the deal! Take a breath, Norma, it’ll be ok. He can’t know that.

Frost grinned inwardly. She was just handing all her secrets out on a silver platter for him. He spoke again to Torbek’s mind, ‘She’s definitely responsible for something, keep pushing.

“N-now you listen here!” Norma said, her voice wavering, “I am the mayor of this fine town; where do you get off saying all this slanderous nonsense.”

Just reading her surface thoughts wasn’t working. Besides, it was only one woman, and it was for his good friend Gideon; if there was ever a time to stretch his abilities, it was now. Frost rose and walked back over to the two. He pulled his hood up over his head and stood directly in front of Norma. While he wasn’t significantly taller than her, only an inch or two her superior, it was enough of a difference to add to his intimidation. Torbek walked a few steps closer as Frost began speaking.

“Ms. Norma, we have been more than patient. The way I see it, you are withholding key information from us. Information that could be vital in the rescue of our friend.” His voice was full of practiced indifference that only added to the intimidation factor, “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? You were trying to save your own skin. You made some kind of deal with the hobgoblins on the train, likely to protect your town from their wrath. Am I right?”

“H-h-how do you know my n-name?”

“That’s irrelevant. Am. I. Right?”

“W-well, you s-see-” Frost didn’t let her finish as he stared into her eyes and shoved the full force of his consciousness against her mental barrier. It shattered after not much effort, and then he was submerged in her memories.

To outside observers, it all happened in less than a moment; for Frost, it felt more like five minutes. While he knew his body was still on the material plane, he was experiencing the realm of Norma’s psyche. Frost had experienced the psyches of other beings before, but it still shook him to his core each time. It was as if he were standing in a void, surrounded by stars; he could reach up and grab each star to see the woman’s memories, beliefs, and things encompassing her sense of self. If he concentrated on something he wanted to see, those stars shone brighter. Frost focused on hobgoblins and grabbed the first star he could see. As he clenched the glowing orb in his fist, the memory formed around him, and suddenly, he was standing next to Norma; across from them were three hobgoblins.

Norma spoke first, “Just to reiterate the terms, we, we being the patriars of the town, allow you to hire the visitors that pass through here, and you get to take whatever you want from the local stores. In exchange, you don’t destroy the town, and I get a small percentage of your profits that you make in Elsewhere.”

“That works for us,” One of the hobgoblins snarled, a grin creeping up their mouth, “We’ll let Boss know immediately.”

“Delightful, I look forward to future business with you.”

The memory shifted, and Frost saw several more similar exchanges with different hobgoblins. Each instance appeared to be 4 months apart from each other, and a bag of gold was handed to Norma. On several occasions, the hobgoblins had a prisoner behind them, bound and gagged, and the mayor, other than a glance, never acknowledged the person. Frost had seen more than enough. It made him feel sick, thinking of the potentially hundreds of individuals who could have been enslaved because of her actions. However, he needed more. This was good information, and the name Elsewhere gave them a place to start looking, but maybe something here could provide them with a clue to where the train was going with Gideon.

Twig was distraught. It wasn’t fair. Gideon was like an older brother to her; of course, she cared that he was missing! Stupid, mean Kremy and his stupid hat. She was trying, and her threats had worked; that mustache guy had sung like a bird. She sobbed her way upstairs and into her bedroom, where she curled up into a little Twig ball underneath the covers. She had only lain there for a minute when the door opened again and the soft tapping of shoes over the floor indicated another’s arrival.

She heard Kremy call out softly, “Twig?”

“Twig isn’t home right now, leave a message.”She sniffled in reply.

“Well that’s too bad, would you tell her that…” Kremy trailed off as he sat down on the bed, “Would you tell her that Kremy was… well he was lookin’ to apologize for his words.”

Twig poked her head out from underneath the covers, “Apologize?”

“Yeah, Twigsy, apologize. Now I know I don’t do it often, but I think this case warrants it. ‘Cause what I said in the bar down there was real outta line.”

“It was really mean.”

“It was.” Kremy agreed, “Now I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I didn’t mean any of it, not at all. In fact, I also wanted to thank you for your help, both in the bar and with this.” He pulled out the metal and glass device.

“Oh! Gideon helped me make that. It was gonna be a birthday gift, and show everyone’s locations, but I thought it would help sooner! Did’ja like the explosion? That was my idea!”

Kremy sat in silence, contemplating, while Twig fidgeted with the blankets.

“Um Kremy?” Twig asked nervously.

“Y-yeah Twig?” The gatorkin’s voice caught in his throat slightly.

“Well, why did’ja say that? If you didn’t mean it I mean? Cause I think that I love Gideon second most, compared to you I mean. And like in a sibling way. And I think you know that. So, um, why?” The brownie rushed.

At that, Kremy sputtered, “Well, now love is- what I mean to say is that I don’t- it’s just ironic- and I…” he took a breath, “I think that your magic had some witchlight-like effects, and once the sleep wore off, it made me feel super angry.”

“Ohh that makes sense! So you really didn’t mean it, it was just drugs! Like how I get after licking one too many frogs, but that’s just silly, because you can’t lick too many frogs!”

“Right, and just like when you lick… just enough frogs, I guess, I have a splitting headache. Do you think you could help with that?”

“Hmm. I cooould, but I think you still owe me.”

“Twigsy! I apologized all nice and everything, what more do you want from me?!”

“Tell me why you got in the fight with Gideon.” Twig’s voice got serious as she looked up at Kremy with her best innocent owlbear eyes, the kind Hootsy got whenever she wanted something from Gricko.

Kremy’s voice also got soft as he looked away from Twig, “Well now why would you want to know that?”

“Both of you looked really upset, and even though there’s nooooo way you could have known what was going to happen,” her voice got even quieter as a sob started to work its way in, “you sending him away is kinda why he- why he got kidnapped.”

Kremy nodded, and unexpectedly, in a show of unusual physical affection, pulled the Twig into a hug. She started sobbing into his shoulder, getting tearstains on his purple suit, but he didn’t pull away, and it felt good. She needed this, and it seemed like Kremy did too, as she felt a tear land on her head. Eventually, though, Kremy did pull away and look her directly in the eyes.

“Do you really wanna know?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I think it’s important both for me and for you.”

“Ok then, Twigsy, just save your comments for the end.”

“Yes sir!”

Kremy took a breath and began, “Well, ya see…”

The prior afternoon

Kremy was engaged in a heated debate with the bartender (not the same one Twig and Gricko terrified) at the Windydoo over the price of room and board. He could tell for a fact that the rooms were mostly deserted, and for the state of this place, the price they were charging was exorbitant, but he wanted his fr- business associates to have their own rooms so they would be comfortable. Frost was keeping the rest of the Krew distracted with a brain teaser, something about a green glass door? It didn’t really matter. What mattered was this stupid man not conceding.

“For the last time, I refuse to pay this insulting price, sir. 30 gold for six rooms for one night is absolutely egregious.” “And for the last time, I can’t go any lower! Our rates are set, I’m afraid.”

“What’s the matter over here, Krem?” Gideon’s voice chimed in over Kremy’s shoulder. Kremy had been so engrossed in the argument that he hadn’t noticed the genasi approach him.

“Well, ya see, Gid, I’m tryin to get us all rooms, but this fucker won’t budge on the price. I mean, 30 gold for six rooms! Really?!”

“What do we need six rooms for?”

“You know damn well why. Need me to count it out for ya? Me, you, Torbek, Frost, Gricko, Twig. Hootsy and Pigtunia can stay with Gricko and Twig.”

“Oh, yeah, that does make sense, I guess.” Gideon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Spit it out, Gideon, what are you tryin’ to say?”

“Well, I mean, if it brings the price down, you and I can stay together. Ironically.”

“If you’re offering,” Kremy said in a low voice before he could stop himself, and he didn’t regret it when Gideon flushed an even darker red. He turned back to the bartender, “How much will five rooms run us? This price better be reasonable, or else we might just have to walk a ways down to the Foxglove Inn.”

“Yes, sir. For five rooms for one night, you’ll be looking at a charge of 20 gold pieces.”

“TEN PIECES OFF! YOU COULDA DONE THAT THE WHOLE TIME.” Kremy shouted.

The bartender's voice dropped to a whisper, “Well, it was gonna be 25, but I figured I could waive the extra five pieces because you scare me.”

“Damn right I do. Well, good sir, I believe you’ve got yourself a deal.” He exchanged the money for four keys, each labeled with a number.

“You’ll be in rooms 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. I do hope you have a good night.” With that, the bartender busseled off to assist other patrons.

Kremy found himself in room number 4 with Gideon. They had stowed their packs in a small cabinet and were now sitting in relative silence. Gideon was tinkering with his manacles, and Kremy couldn’t deny how cute his focused expression was, with a bit of his tongue sticking out, his eyes trained on the intricate magical circuitry. His mind flashed back to the last time they were alone in a bedroom together, and how that had ended. With a start, he realized they had never addressed their afternoon of ahem passion, just had gone back to business. If there was a chance it could mean more, Kremy decided he wanted to try it out, strictly ironically of course.

He waited until Gideon closed the manacle’s inner working to speak, “So, are we ever gonna talk about what happened?”

Gideon let out a surprised grunt as he looked up at Kremy, manacle forgotten, “T-talk about what Krem?”

“I think you very much know what I’m talkin’ about, Gideon Coal.”

“That afternoon. My bedroom in Roslov’s cottage. Ring any bells?”

“Oh yeahhh.” Gideon shifted a little nervously, “What about it?”

“Is it gonna be a regular thing? Is it more?”

Gideon thought for a second, his face a mess of emotion, “D-do you want it to be? Because um… well umm.”

Kremy felt his hope light inside of him slightly, “If you want it to be.”

“I- I don’t think it should be,” was Gideon’s reply, and Kremy felt all of that hope shrivel up and die.

“Okay. Okay. That is a-okay with me.”

“That's good, Krem, cause you know I never stay more than a night. Unless I get crossbow married, then it's at most a week.” The words hit Kremy like a crossbow bolt to the heart, and he tried not to let it show on his face.

He needed to be sure Gideon meant it, though. Sometimes the genasi could be careless with words, “A-are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?”

Gideon looked him dead in the eye, “I think so, Krem.”

“Are you sayin’ that I’m no more than one of those local girls you get with. That there wasn’t anything more than a moment of lust?” Kremy choked out the last word.

Gideon broke eye contact and nodded slowly, not daring to meet Kremy’s gaze again.

Kremy was fine. He was fiiiine. He knew this could have happened. He knew everything between him and Gideon was ironic; of course, it was, they always said it was.

“So you’d still say this even if I told you exactly how I felt, exactly how much I care for you, and- and how much I’d do for you?” Kremy’s voice was shaky and desperate; he hated how it sounded. “I- I thought there was something’ there, Gid, I thought it was mutual...”

Gideon nodded again.

“get out.” Kremy’s voice was soft and low, pleading.

“Kremy.” Gideon's voice was also low, laced with something Kremy couldn’t decipher.

“Please just go. I need space. Room with one of the others if you want, or grab five gold from my bag and get another bed.”

“I- well- this doesn’t have to change anything, Krem. We could just go on and pretend this never happened. Just go back to normal.”

Kremy was tired; he just wanted to be alone, to be able to cry without anyone seeing him, to make sense of all the emotions inside of him. An edge began creeping into his voice, as hard and as sharp as a knife, “Leave, Gideon.”

“No.”

“Why not? I think you’ve made it abundantly clear how you feel, and besides, staying with me tonight would break your one person, one night policy.”

“That’s not fair, Krem. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“Well, I’m not, just go.”

“Kremy.” Gideon's voice became grating against Kremy’s ears; it felt condescending and pitiful.

“GIDEON COAL, YOU ARE MAKING THINGS WORSE WITH YOUR LITTLE HERO DISPLAY. I have made it abundantly clear how I feel. Find another person to bed with, since you clearly love it so much.”

“W-Well, at least I’m not a… not a…”

“Not a what?” Kremy’s voice was a dagger aimed to kill.

“I’m not a shifty, two-faced bastard who values money more than people!” Gideon bit out. He seemed ready to apologize before Kremy started screaming at him.

“BARON HELP ME, IF I SEE YOU HERE IN THE MORNING, GIDEON COAL!”

The Krew arrived. They heard the shouting. Kremy glanced nervously at the door.

“IF YOU SEE ME YOU’LL WHAT? YOU NO GOOD CROCODILE.”

Fine. If this were how Gidoen wanted to play it, in front of everyone, then Kremy would meet him at his level, “CROCODILE?!?! YOU KNOW I AM AN ALLIGATOR, YOU BITCH.”

“OHHHH YOU- HOLD ME BACK GRICKO, I SWEAR I’M GONNA PUNCH HIM IN THE BODY!”

Present Day

“And now we’re here.” Kremy finished his story. He had tears welling in his eyes that he stubbornly refused to let fall.

Twig sat in silence, staring up at him for a minute before saying, “That really sucks. I don’t think either of you handled that well.”

“Ya don’t say, Twig.”

“Yeah, I do. I think that Gideon is doing his big manly tough guy thing or whatever, and suppressing his emotions, and you are actively lying to yourself about yours. If either of you had been completely honest about your feelings in that moment, we might not be here right now."

“I- damn Twig. I don’t think I’m ready to unpack that right now. Not until we get Gid back anyway.”

“That’s probably smart. ‘Cause if you do, you may feel ten times worse about all the shit you said.

“Alright, and that’s enough therapy for today. Let’s go get Gricko and head on out over to the bar, see if Frost and Torbeck have scrounged up any details.”

“Okay!”

Twig jumped out of bed and, before running towards the door, put a hand on Kremy’s knee. Her palm glowed as she used her magic to help get rid of his headache.

“Much obliged. Now, let’s get outta here.”

They picked up Gricko from downstairs, where he was snacking on a muffin wrapper. He and Kremy exchanged a nod as Twig led the charge out into the street. The trio raced over to the bar, as quickly as they could muster, two out of the three of them being under 5ft. However, no amount of preparation could have ever made them ready for the sight they faced. Standing in front of the bar, 10ft tall and dripping with magenta witchlight, the vials in his back bubbling aggressively, was Torbek. In one of his misshapen hands was a screaming, redheaded woman, who was yelling curses and crying for help. Next to Torbek stood Frost, ineffectually trying to calm the bugbear.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

By this point, Kremy had decided that he hated Thursdays and all of their equivalents. Nothing had gone right or to plan today, so why should simply meeting up with the rest of his associates be any different?

The towering Torbek was yelling unintelligibly and tightly holding the redheaded elven woman by the leg with one arm. His free arm was flailing wildly, spewing purple witchlight from his fingers (which had morphed into their strange, needle-like form). A few drops of witchlight hit frost in the face, causing the tabaxi to sneeze, drop dead, then rise back to life as a harengone.

“By the Baron!” Kremy exclaimed as he, Twig, Gricko, and Hootsy skidded to a stop next to the rabbit-afied Frost, “What is happenin’?”

Before Frost could respond, the woman screamed out, “This- this thing is attacking me! Help!”

Kremy turned to Frost for confirmation and was surprised to see the look of anger on his face.

“She deserves this.” He snapped, “She’s directly responsible for Gideon’s disappearance.”

“Torbek agreeees. Torbek is going to tear her to shreaaaads.” While the statement eased one of Kremy’s worries (Torbek was himself and only tapping into his power; The Other wasn’t in control), if what the two were saying was true, it also added many more to his plate.

“Don’t do anything rash yet Torbek, I gotta get the run down from Frost.”

“Okaaaaay.”

“GET ME DOWN!” The woman shrieked. Kremy gave her an expression of distaste and turned to Frost, who launched into a summary of what he had seen in the woman’s mind. Kremy grew more and more infuriated with each word. Gricko and Twig were also listening intently.

When Frost finished speaking, Kremy took a deep breath, seething inwardly, and returned his attention to the bugbear, “Torbek, I’m gonna need you to put the lady down, I wanna have a chat with her myself.”

“But Mr. Kremmmmy…”

“No ‘buts’ Torbek. However, if she needs any further convincing to be helpful, I’ll let you do the honors.”

“Okaaaay.” Torbek unceremoniously dropped her on the ground.

“You’ll let us get a crack in too, ‘ight Kremy?” Gricko cracked his knuckles, and Twig punched her palm menacingly behind him.

“I suppose, if it’s necessary." Kremy grinned before turning his attention to the woman who had righted herself and was looking around, presumably for an escape route. “Whatdado, name’s Kremy Lecroux and I have heard from my associates here that you are responsible for the kidnapping of a particularly close friend o’ mine.”

The woman took a moment to compose herself and responded, “My name’s Norma Klingfisher, mayor of this town, and I have no clue what in all the hells your associates are talking about.”

Torbek growled low in his throat as Frost’s bunny nose twitched with disgust. Kremy’s face darkened, and his voice lowered menacingly, “tsk tsk, Mayor Klingfisher, that was a lie, and while I can appreciate the art, I have to warn you; if you try to lie to me again or stop me in any way from reachin’ my goal, you will not like the consequences.”

“The hells does that mean ‘not like the consequences’?!”

“Well, it could be physical injury, courtesy of Torbek here, I believe you’ve met? Or it could be some curse from Twig’s behalf, or some combination of the two from my beast master Gricko.” Kremy lowered his voice to barely above a whisper and leaned close to the woman, “Or, Frost told me your niece works for the Foxglove, and I believe I’ve met her. Young lady, obsessed with her nails, correct?”

The look of horror on Norma’s face was all the confirmation he needed.

“Y-you wouldn’t…” she whispered.

“Oh, I would.” He was still murmuring in her ear, “I’d do anything to get Gid back. Now you are gonna help me, understand, otherwise I’m gonna have to do something you‘ll regret.”

He pulled his head back and looked her dead in the eyes; hers were blue and full of fear.

“Yes. I was partially responsible for your friend's kidnapping.”

“Details, Ms. Klingfisher.”

She delivered the spiel in a quavering voice, not meeting Kremy’s gaze, “He was at the bar late last night. I too was there. The deal I have with the hobgoblins stipulates that the abductees must be visitors, not locals. They checked with me and I confirmed that he was, in fact, not protected by the deal. They asked me to take him a drink; I did so. He took it, saying something along the lines of ‘free drink’s never steered me wrong before.’ I believe it to have been drugged with some sort of charm potion. Then I left the bar to go home. I-is this satisfactory?”

“One last thing. Where is the Train headed next?”

“I-I don’t know, I mean,” she corrected herself hurriedly, “I know it’ll be near the city of Elsewhere in approximately three days time, but it does some plane and realm hopping between then and here. I swear I don’t know anymore than that!”

“Check out with what you saw, Frost?”

“Yes. There were also some added details I missed in the memory.”

“Perfect. I suppose that’s all I need from you, Mayor Klingfisher.” He smiled widely as a look of relief passed over the elven woman’s face. He was gonna enjoy stamping that look out. “But you see, like you, I am also a liar by trade. Your safety was never promised. You drugged Gid. That alone is enough for me to want to put my heel through your skull.”

“She is also responsible for the abductions of nearly a hundred individuals from this area.”

“That too, I guess. Anyways, my associates and I aren’t in the business of letting folks like you off with a slap on the wrist.” Kremy grinned maniacally. He wanted to make her suffer. He wasn’t new to the world of torture, not by a long shot. He’d learned from the best of the best after all. It was Remy Garou who taught him to target people’s loved ones, Garou who taught him how magic could be used in loosening tongues and in loosening limbs. Kremy’s magic wasn’t at its full power with his shadow detached, but he had done more with less. Shadowy purple magic collected in his hand, casting a dim light over Norma’s face, which was drained of all color, terror etched into every feature. The usually invisible skeleton markings along his body were glowing in their neon green color, and a humming was growing in his ears, blocking off all noise from the outside world.

Kremy closed his hand around her throat, allowing the magic to seep into her skin. The area around them grew darker as the shadows coalesced and the light bent away. A fierce wind whipped up, causing Kremy’s coat to whip around him and frazzling Norma’s already curly hair. The Mayor’s eyes rolled back into her head as she began to scream, her blood turned a tarlike black as the shadows mixed in with it. Kremy only laughed and squeezed harder, trying to cut off all airflow to her lungs. In an effort to strengthen the spell, he siphoned Norma’s own shadow into the magic, calling it up from the ground, allowing it to wrap around his arm before he added its power into his. The tar black blood began to seep out of her eyes. She ineffectually clawed at his hand with her own as her scream slowly died, her mouth still open in an eerie ‘o’ shape in silent agony. Kremy began the final phase of the spell to inflict pain on this despicable being equal to all the rage and guilt he felt. He raised his cane into the air, and the shadows encircling them rose with it, bending into a dome over them. It felt good. It felt powerful. He was in control, and he would make damn sure that she never hurt Gid again. But before Kremy could finish the spell, he felt arms encircling his torso, and he was knocked off balance by Torbek tackling him. He lost his grip on Norma’s neck, and the shadows dispersed, returning to their original positions and owners. The humming faded from his ears, and he heard the world again. It was mayhem; Twig’s screams, Gricko’s words of comfort to Hootsy, Frost’s mumbled calculations. It didn’t matter now, though; the mayor was still breathing.

“Mr. Kremy, are you okaaay?!?!”

“The fuck! Of course I’m o-okay…” Kremy trailed off; he touched two fingers to his cheek and felt tears; he was crying. Well, that was stupid. He shouldn’t be crying right now; he was winning. Kremy attempted to claw his way out of Torbek's hold and stand. The first part was easy; Torbek wasn’t holding on to him very tightly; however, when he attempted to stand, his legs quavered and gave way beneath him.

“Mr. Kremy!” Torbek yelled and caught Kremy before he could hit the ground, “Torbek doesn’t think you’re ooookaaaay.”

“I-I’m fine, Torbek,” Kremy sputtered. He was still crying, and it was beginning to show in his voice. He wanted it to stop; he didn’t cry in front of the Krew, ever, and he was not about to start now. Over Torbek’s shoulder, Kremy could see Frost had regained his senses and was checking on Norma. He had returned to his usual tabaxi form, Kremy wasn’t quite sure when, and had a faraway look about him, as if he was thinking about, or concentrating on, something else.

“What was that, Kremy?!” Gricko shouted his eyes wide, “you went evil and such, started laughing all creepy like and yer eyes turned-”

Gricko was interrupted by Frost, who shot him a pointed look and stated, “I have concluded that the mayor is still alive. As for what happened here, I hypothesize that Kremy was tapping into his full power granted by his patron.”

“That can’t be though. My shadow’s on the train with Gid, I cain't use my form of dread without it.”

“Be that as it may, I shall continue to support this theory until further evidence comes along to disprove it.” Frost was still analyzing the unconscious form of the woman on the ground. Kremy turned his gaze to look at her. While she was mostly back to normal, black stains covered her face where the shadowy blood had been, leaving the tear tracks behind. Her fingers had turned the same black color, fading into her normal skin tone when they reached her palms. The tips of her elven ears had suffered the same fate. As the shadowed areas caught the light, faint shimmers of purple and green crossed their surface. Kremy felt a sinking in his stomach. He’d harnessed shadows before, yet they had never had this effect on a person. It had to be a sign of some sort. The goal of the spell was to basically dip the person into the realm of shadow, banish them there for but a minute before bringing them back. Most would never speak of the things they had experienced there, others would babble incoherently about shadows and dark and claws and the like. Kremy had never experienced the realm firsthand and didn’t plan ever to visit.

“As much as I would love to stick around here,” Kremy began, “we need to set off towards Elsewhere. I say we slit her throat and go.”

Gricko was the first to respond, “I fink you’ve done enough Kremy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“We wanna get a crack in on ‘er!”

Twig shook her head forcefully, “I don’t think anyone should touch the body.”

Kremy attempted to stand again and found his legs shaky, but stable enough to support him if he leaned on his cane. Torbek stood behind him, ready to catch Kremy if he fell. The bugbear had shrunk back down to his normal eight feet and was hunched so he was closer to seven; the witchlight was also no longer bubbling or flowing out of him.

Frost glanced at the sky, “We should get going now. It appears we have spent an hour here.”

“That’s what I said! Before we go though we have to deal with this bitch.” Kremy said, frustrated, “Fine, let’s take a vote. I say we kill her and start heading towards Elsewhere.”

“I dunno about killing her, lads, feels kinda wrong doin’ that when she’s just lyin’ there.”

“Why noooot Gricko? We’ve killed other people for less.” Torbek added helpfully.

“Point taken; objection withdrawn!” Gricko said cheerfully, “who’s gonna get to do it though?”

The sun came out from behind a cloud, filling the clearing around the bar with patches of light. Twig spoke up slightly, “Umm, guys?”

“You wanna add your name to the pool Twig?” Gricko asked.

“No! Behind you, the body!”

Everyone turned to see the unconscious body of Mayor Norma, lying in a small sunlit patch of the otherwise shady area, start to fade. She became shadowy and translucent like Kremy’s shadow whenever he sent it out. The Krew all ran closer, and as they did so, the body seemed to bend with them, until it looked more like a reflection on the ground than a physical body, before the Krew’s shadows eventually consumed it as they stood over the spot. There was now no sign the mayor had been there at all. All that remained was the faint smell of tobacco that was quickly carried away by the breeze.

The Krew sat in silence, all staring at the now bare spot on the ground.

“Well that was…” Gricko trailed off.

Torbek frantically spoke next, “Torbek isn’t sure what is happening!! Did the mayor telepoooort?”

“By my observations, no. It appears that she has become one with the shadows.” Frost responded.

“What was that, Kremy?!” Twig asked breathlessly, staring wide-eyed at him.

Kremy responded slowly, “I ain’t sure. My magic’s never had that effect on a person, but it don’t matter now. What’s done is done and we ain’t gonna get much info staring at this fuckin spot on the ground.”

Kremy looked around, and each of the Krew nodded in agreement. Wordlessly, he turned and set back out on the path towards the main village.

They got their stuff from the Windydoo without incident. The bartender let out a small squeak when he saw Gricko and Twig, hurrying into the back room. Upstairs was deserted, their belongings exactly where they had left them. Kremy stared at Gideon’s pack in the closet. The guilt swam in his stomach again. He’d sent Gideon out into the night without anything other than the clothes on his back and a few coins in his pocket. Kremy wasn’t a doubtful man; sure, he had regrets, everyone did, but he could explain away each of those. He’d had reasons and justifications, but this felt different. It was the fact that, even for that small moment, he thought he might actually love Gideon and that the feelings could be reciprocated. But now? He was doubting everything that had happened that night.

He continued to sit, reflecting. What had Twig said? That he was actively lying to himself about his feelings? Ha, she was definitely wrong; he wasn’t lying to himself now, he’d been lying then. Kremy didn’t love Gideon; he couldn’t. He’d misinterpreted his feelings! Mistaking lust for love, friendship for desire, and irony for literalism. That feeling Kremy got in his stomach whenever Gideon went off with a random girl was just a reasonable worry that maybe this time Gideon would choose to run off with her instead of staying with Kremy. A simple crossing of emotional wires. That had to be the reason, because people don’t do things like what he’d done to people they love. They didn’t completely blow up and control the other’s mind to get them to do what they wanted.

Once they got Gid back, and they would get Gid back, Kremy made up his mind to apologize and go back to normal. Whatever normal they would be able to reach. But what if Gideon didn’t want to continue traveling with them? And, oh fuck, there was still Gid’s death as foretold by the Baron. Kremy would need to make a deal to get out of that, or something, but he knew he was sinking deeper and deeper into this shit hole, and unless he found his way out soon, everything would go to ruin.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Mr. Kreeeemmyyy? Are you reaaaady to gooo?” Sounded Torbek’s voice from the hallway, “Everyoneeee else is in the baaaaar. We’re good to go when you aaaaarrree”

“I’ll be down in five, Torbek.”

Kremy sighed, stood, and quickly shoved his things into his bag of holding. He paused only briefly to stare at Gideon’s pack again before that too got out in the bag. With that, the Krew set off towards elsewhere, leaving the town behind for good.

The Krew were about three hours into the trip and, surprisingly, things were still going smoothly. Frost predicted the trip to Elsewhere would take two days if they traveled at a brisk pace. Thus, Kremy, Torbek and Frost were walking, Twig was flying along, occasionally taking a break on Torbek’s shoulder, and Gricko was riding on Hootsy’s back. Gricko was also keeping the group entertained with songs on his ocarina. While the music was nice, Kremy was tired of hearing the goblin’s rendition of ‘Shake it Off’ by Seamstress Slow (Torbek had requested it at least six separate times). And they continued like this, alone on the road, spirits relatively high, until Hootsy’s paws were dragging in the dirt, Twig had retired for the night onto Torbek’s shoulder, and Gricko kept almost falling off of Hootsy’s back.

They made camp for the night in a small clearing directly off the road to Elsewhere. Kremy’s pocket watch read 11:38 pm when the Krew had all headed to bed. Kremy had volunteered to take the first watch so he could sit and think by himself some more. He sat on a stump, staring into the fire, allowing his mind to wander. He blinked, and suddenly he was transported. He was still staring into a fire, but now it was in a fireplace with an intimidating metal grate in front of it. Kremy looked down to see that his body was completely incorporeal and shadowy black. He felt his mind link with his shadow’s limited consciousness and received flashes of memory. The hobgoblins torturing Gideon with needles, whips, and other weapons, a strange laboratory room filled with the same star-shaped white flowers that grew outside of the Foxglove and lavender plants, a person with a welding mask and a wrench, burn marks covering their exposed arms, and car after car of hobgoblins and slaves of all varieties. Once Kremy’s vision returned to the fire, he whispered two words to his shadow, an order, “Protect him,” before he blinked again, and his consciousness was ripped back to the camp.

Kremy took a moment to process what he had seen before making up his mind; Frost had the next watch and was likely the smartest one out of all of them. As much as Kremy wanted to solve this problem alone, the scope was much too big for one person. He resolved to discuss the situation with Frost when they switched out for the night. Maybe the tabaxi would be able to find a solution. Until then, however, Kremy would keep trying. He turned his gaze to the stars, wondering if Gideon could see them from where he was being held, and returned to his watch.

Chapter Text

Gideon couldn’t fucking think because of all the pain.

It came at him from every angle. Both waking and asleep. Mental and physical. It was overwhelming and all-encompassing.

Obviously, there were the hobgoblins. They were worse than he ever remembered, more sadistic and cruel, but also more calculated. He had slept through the night and, by his iffy sense of time, it had only been a day since he had been kidnapped. His fire hadn’t recovered enough for another ‘speed boost’, so he had a temporary but welcome respite. Or it would be, if not for the five hobgoblins standing in front of him. The oldest stood with his back to Gideon and held a spear that he was using as a pointer. The rest were younger and held clipboards and quills, diligently taking notes. They were speaking in Goblin, too, so Gideon couldn’t understand any of it as he was pointed to and prodded at with the spear. The one thing Gideon did understand was the string of curses the older hobgoblin let out when he dropped said spear on his foot. Gideon craned his neck to try and get a look at what the hobgoblins were writing to no avail; however, he did see that one of the hobgoblins was holding a book, its title of ‘The Magical Properties of Jimsonweed’ plastered boldly across the spine. If he squinted, he could just make out the first line of the back cover, ‘On its own, Datura (Jimsonweed) is a powerful hallucinogen and poison; however, when imbued with magic, the scope of its abilities increases tenfold.’ The plant didn’t sound familiar; however, if the hobgoblins were researching it, it had to be dangerously powerful.

His train of thought was interrupted when the eldest hobgoblin stabbed his arm with a syringe. Gideon tried to jerk backwards, but he was held fast. The hobgoblin extracted as much blood as he could to fill the apparatus, which was about the size of Gideon's. He handed it off to one of the others and pulled out another syringe. The hobgoblin filled 5 of these vials with blood, causing Gideon to get lightheaded. They then filed out of the room without a backward glance. They hadn’t returned yet, but Gideon would bet his life’s savings that they’d be back, and he wouldn’t like the result.

The physical pain Gideon had learnt to deal with, after all, 10 years of torment will teach a guy a thing or two about resisting torture. It was the panic attacks and anxiety that he hadn’t found ways to cope with yet. Being on the train brought back old memories. Bad memories.

He was 18, a scrappy young man looking for his start in the world, and he had just run away from home after an argument with his Pa. Gideon was a cheerful kid who enjoyed boxing and tinkering. While he was physically fit, he still looked scrappy, a fact that was not helped by the patchy stubble across the lower half of his face. That fateful day, Gideon had been frustrated, looking for a fight. He’d gotten home in a huff from running errands; the shopkeeper was a dick, and they were out of his favorite jerky. He’d started talking to his Pa, and they’d gotten onto the topic of Gideon’s future. He’d turned 18 about three months prior, and the two of them had very different ideas about how Gideon would spend the next few years. His Pa wanted him to stay on the farm and continue helping with the different barn chores and such before eventually taking over the place when he got too old to work. Gideon wanted to finally finish up work on the motorbike and travel across Yona. He'd spent his entire life in this small town and desired to see what the city was like and the sea. Maybe he’d even travel the whole of Avantris, visiting the other continents. His Pa had been tentatively supportive of the idea at first, saying that once he hired extra help on the farm, he’d help Gideon achieve his goals. But then one month went by, and another, and another. Gideon had seen no effort on his Pa’s part to hire another farmhand.

“You gotta know I ain’t interested in this stuff, Pa! I don’t want to spend the rest o’ my life rottin’ in this town.” He’d said, aggressively.

“I cain’t afford ta loose ya right now Gid. Harvest seasons comin’ soon and we need all hands on deck if we wanna eat at all next year.”

“Then why haven’t you looked for any new farmhands?! Mrs. Kelcy’s boys are lookin for a job and they’re right fit.”

“Mrs. Kelcy won’t so much as sniff in my direction after you burnt her fence down last spring, much less let her precious sons work for me.”

“Mrs. Kelcy won’t talk to ya because you- never mind, you’re gonna have to figure this shit out soon, cause I’m gonna get started on the motorbike this afternoon with your help or not!”

“With what money? You work for me, and your payment is the roof over your head.”

“I’ve made a healthy amount of gold from the boxing league in town, I’m the best fighter they got and I get winnings from the tournaments in town.”

“Well.” His pa signed, “I have a small confession, Gideon.”

“What?” The tone switch had Gideon seriously worried.

“I- Well ya see, I sold the motorbike.”

“YOU WHAT?!?!” Gideon roared. He never yelled at his Pa; that would have earned him a swift kick in the ass. But he couldn’t help himself this time. Gideon blinked the tears back as he watched his future ride off into the sunset, without him.

“I had to sell it.” He said quietly, not meeting Gideon's gaze. Pa was scratching his palms, something he only did when he wasn’t being entirely truthful, but Gideon took little notice, more focused on the treachery the words contained, “We weren’t gonna have enough to make it to harvest. I’m really sorry, Gid, I know how much it meant to ya. The thing meant a lot to me too. Some of my favorite memories with you were repairing it after you crashed it.”

“When did ya sell it? Maybe I can use my boxin’ money to buy it back.” Gideon was pacing now. He shot a glance out the window towards the garage. The door was open, and there was no motorbike inside. How had he not noticed this morning?!

“Just yesterday, to that train over the hill, the one smokin’ up the whole damn sky.”

“Alright, I’m gonna head up there. See if I can’t convince ‘em to sell it to me.”

“Gid, don’t go up there. Them folks are dangerous. You don’t know what they’re like.”

“But Pa-” Gideon stared.

“No.” Pa interrupted him, “I don’t want you goin’ anywhere near that train, you hear me? It’s not safe for you.”

“Why, though, why ain’t it safe for me? Gideon's voice was getting louder and more frustrated. He couldn’t understand why his Pa wouldn’t let him go. “I’m just going to barter, and I’m strong, like I just told you, I’m the best boxer in the town. Besides, you said that the bike was important to you. Why shouldn’t we try to get it back?”

“BECAUSE THAT DAMNED BIKE AIN’T AS IMPORTANT TO ME AS YOU ARE.” Gideon's father yelled. His head dropped to his hands as his shoulders slumped, “I said no and that’s final, Gid. Please, just accept that I can’t tell you why they’re dangerous and you shouldn’t go lookin. We can build another bike.”

“Why tell me all this then? Why tell me where you sold it? Did ya just wanna give me some false fucking hope!”

“Gideon, I- I’m sorry.”

Gideon's face was a contorted mixture of sadness and frustration as he wordlessly walked by his Pa and into his bedroom. He closed the door quietly and began packing. A plan was forming in his brain. He’d get the bike back and go on a little trip. He’d be back home in a week or so, tops. After all, he didn’t want to worry his Pa. It’d be a win-win. He wrote a quick note, explaining his plan and set off for the hills.

Gideon had walked for about 20 minutes when the train first came into view. Swarms of red creatures were camped around it, some doing repairs, some eating food, and still others appeared to be gearing up for combat. It was an odd sight, and Gideon felt his stomach clench at the idea of talking to these creatures. Gideon continued his approach, and about 5 minutes later, he was close enough to start making out snippets of conversations and identifying the creatures as hobgoblins. Nothing too interesting was being said; mostly just gossip, jokes and other general chatter. They hadn’t spotted him yet, and he wasn’t sure he was going to let them. He moved closer, staying in the trees. There were two of the creatures nearby, and he decided they’d be good enough as any to introduce himself to. Gideon began to move to break his cover, but stopped when he overheard their conversation.

“Did ya hear what the boss said?” The female hobgoblin asked.

“No.” Her compatriot responded, “Do we get to torch the village?”

“Fuck yeah! Them fuckers wouldn’t make a deal with us so we get to deal with them. Glad to, too. I don’t even know why we’re here, it’s not in our usual rotation of places on the material plane.”

“You didn’t hear? Boss got wind that the power source we’ve been lookin for is here.”

“Power source? You mean that fire spirit woman the boss lost his ear too?

“Nah, she’s waaaay to powerful for us to grab, but get this; she had a son.”

“No fuckin way!”

“Yes fuckin way! He lives here, and that’s the deal the boss tried to make!”

“Well the first groups already headed out to the village. I hope they leave some peasants for us, I love stabbing them in the liver.”

“Really?! I prefer the chest area, I like to hear their lungs go pop!”

That was more than enough to get Gideon scared. He turned and started running towards the town. Maybe if he made it back before the hobgoblins, he’d be able to warn his neighbors. He sprinted as fast as he could, not caring if anyone heard him. Gideon crested a hill and collapsed, lungs heaving. Looking out at the scene before him filled him with despair. The entire town was burning. He could see a pile of bodies being created in the town square as screaming and smoke filled the air. He stood back up and started out towards the farm; it was a ways away from the main town, maybe they hadn’t gotten there yet. Tears stained his cheeks as Gideon resumed sprinting. He’d reached the house in record time and flung open the back door of his home.

“PA!?!” He screamed out to no response. Gideon ran into his bedroom and found his note gone. In its place was an envelope with his name on it, written in his father's handwriting. He shoved it into his pocket and ran out of the bedroom. He checked every room of the house, screaming as he went, but there was still no sign of his Pa. What if he hadn’t escaped? What if he were one of those bodies in the town square? Gideon collapsed to his knees in the kitchen, sobbing. His chest heaved as he screamed into the floor. Gideon stayed there for several minutes until he couldn’t cry anymore. That’s when he heard the crackling of fire. He stood and looked out the window, and was met with an inferno; the entire field of crops outside was covered in flame, and it wouldn’t be long until the house was engulfed as well. Gideon threw open the front door only to be met with the sneering face of an elderly hobgoblin, one ear completely missing, his fist raised as if to knock on the now open door.

“Well, well, well! Just the man I wanted to see. Boys, get him.” And before Gideon could react, two large muscular hobgoblins shoved their way inside. Gideon tried to fight but quickly found himself overwhelmed. A cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth. It smelled bitter and sharp. ‘I’m sorry, Pa,’ was Gideon’s last thought as he drifted into unconsciousness.

That memory always played out in its entirety, the universe seemingly mocking him for his decisions. The rest came in flashes, small snippets of time that stabbed holes in his psyche like darts thrown at a board.

He was 20, chained to the wall as per usual, as a hobgoblin around his age told him jokes. The young guy, named Tarrence, came by every other day or so and dropped off Gideon’s meals. He was always friendly, never pointlessly cruel like the others were. At first, Gideon wouldn’t speak to him, would just eat the offered food and wait for him to leave. Eventually, he started chatting with the hobgoblin and would have even considered him a friend. Gideon was so desperate for social connection that he never questioned the hobgoblin’s motives. That was until Terence’s job evaluation came. That’s when the hobgoblin showed his true colors. He’d beaten Gideon, both physically and verbally, insulting him with barbs that he’d known would hurt, because Gideon had told him that they would. Tarrence got the promotion, and Gideon was left bleeding and raw, feeling stupider than he’d ever had in his life.

He was 23, opening up to another prisoner. She wasn’t really his type, but she was kind and had a nice laugh, and in this horrid place, that was more than enough. Sarah had been assigned to a cleaning duty and was forced to clean his cell as well as several of the hobgoblin sleeping cars. She had been extremely shy at first, flinching away whenever Gideon made attempts at conversation, but she started warming up to him. They’d talk for hours about their lives before and their passions while cleaning up the dried blood and other muck that covered the cell. Eventually, they’d even kissed. But their relationship hadn’t been allowed to last for long. One of the hobgoblins had walked in on them and decided to make an example of the woman. After three months of knowing her, Gideon never saw Sarah again and never learned what had happened to her.

He was 28, lying bleeding and broken by the railroad tracks, but feeling better than he had ever felt in his life. The past 3 years had been lived in isolation, other than the hobgoblins coming in to give him food, water, and a beating. They had forbidden any prisoners from entering his cell, using Sarah as an example of what happened to those who crossed them. It had been lonely, so very, very lonely. Gideon craved connection, a bath, and a drink. Some travelers found him and were able to drag him to the nearest town, where he was nursed back to health. A few days later, he was able to get that drink at a local tavern. While he was sitting there, drinking the best whiskey he’d ever tasted, shouting started up at the other end of the bar.

“Where’s my godsdamned money, you stupid crocodile?!” An orange tiefling yelled at a gatorkin at a booth in the corner of the tavern. The gator’s well-tailored purple suit and top hat made him look very out of place in this town as he smiled coolly up at the man.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Do I know you?”

The tiefling let out an enraged snort, walked over and stole Gideon’s drink from in front of him before throwing the liquid into the gatorkin’s face. He began shouting something else, but quickly quieted down when Gideon rose above him. While he was still underweight after so many years of slavery, Gideon cut quite the imposing figure with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a flaming beard.

“I was drinkin’ that.” He said slowly.

“So what, bitch? I’ll deal with you after I deal with this motherfucker.”

“I don’t think so,” Gideon said and swung his best right hook at the man, catching him square in the jaw. The tiefiling staggered back, eyes glinting with hatred.

“So that’s how you wanna play it, huh?” The man raised two fingers, shooting a torrent of fire at Gideon. The latter only laughed and stepped into it, raising his fists and hitting the man again. This time, the tiefling was knocked unconscious because of the blows. The gatorkin raised an eyebrow at Gideon, seemingly appraising him, but before either of them had the chance to speak, the bartender appeared, ordering Gideon outside, to which he acquiesced. He sat in an alley outside of the tavern when the gatorkin appeared again, walking towards him with a shot of whiskey in each hand, cane underneath his arm.

“Wattado, the names Kremy LeCroux, and, boy, do I have a proposition for you.” He said, holding out one of the whiskeys. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad memory after all.

He was 39, living the dream after so many years of suffering, and had just lied to his best friend to protect his own damn heart. Gideon always tried his damndest to do whatever Kremy asked of him. He would follow the gatorkin to the ends of Avantris, would do anything and punch anyone Krem asked him to, and yet he didn’t think he would be able to do this, even though he wanted to. There was Kremy, looking over at him, a genuine, shy smile on his face that usually bore an unreadable smirk, askin’ to be with him. It was tempting, more than tempting, it was the stuff of dreams and storybooks. But there were too many risks involved. Telling the truth would mean putting his heart in a position to be stomped on the minute Krem got that call from his patron or found someone better than Gideon. Because it would happen eventually, wouldn’t it? Kremy was, well, Kremy. A powerful, whip smart, sonofabitch who could talk anyone into anything and his way out of all dangers. And who was he? Just a farmer's son and former slave with a pretty face and big arms. While Gideon hated to admit it, he sometimes had doubts about what or who Kremy would sacrifice to get a leg up in the world. If lines were drawn, he had no idea who Kremy would choose: the Krew, or the Baron. And besides, it wasn’t their way; they were one hundred percent ironic. Gideon couldn’t do it, couldn’t open up, couldn’t be honest with himself or with the gatorkin sitting across from him, no matter how much his heart screamed otherwise. Kremy had looked so open, and Gideon had just shot him down. He hadn’t meant the stuff about Kremy being no better than any of the others, but he would let him believe it. It would be safer for both of them that way. Kremy would be free to follow his own destiny whenever his patron desired. Gideon wouldn’t risk opening himself up, yet again, only to have the things most important to him taken away. But none of that mattered now. Kremy was dead.

When Gideon wasn’t being poked and prodded like some freak science experiment, he used the time to reflect. Maybe if he could think of how he got out before, he could potentially reengineer his escape this time. Unfortunately, the circumstances were almost entirely different. The hobgoblins had learned and adapted; his lack of dexterity meant he couldn’t reverse engineer the shackles like last time, when he had been free to roam the compartment, minus the bindings on his wrists. He’d have to use brute force, or perhaps coerce one of his visitors to let him loose, though the fucking muzzle could make that impossible. Gideon spent his time straining against the restraints, pulling at the chains on his wrists and legs, trying to remove them from the wall they were attached to or break them open. Unfortunately, this only served to cause extra pain. The restraints felt spiked on the inside; likely, it was whatever apparatus allowed the shackles to absorb his fire. He’d also cut himself numerous times on the edges of the cuffs, causing blood to drip into a small puddle on the floor. He screamed out as much as he could, the sound more of a dull moan than the bellow of agony he had attempted. Gideon reached within himself, trying to reignite his fire, to try to melt the chains, or use the explosive power to break them, wanting to do something, anything, to escape this hell.

Then the chains started glowing. Little threads of warm amber light etched along their surface. They tightened, causing the small needles embedded within to pierce his wrists, his ankles, his neck. Gideon’s body convulsed as he felt not something getting pulled out of his body, but something getting put in. The fluid left trails of ice in its wake, numbing his body, and his vision began to swim. As it cleared, Gideon saw that he was no longer chained up; in front of him in the car were his friends. Including Kremy! Kremy was alive! Gideon ran forward to hug him, but as soon as his arms made contact with the gatorkin, the flesh underneath them dissolved. What was left was bone, with little scraps of tissue hanging off it. Gideon lept backward. He opened his mouth to say something, but it wouldn’t budge.

“This is your fault Gideon.” The skeleton Kremy said in a monotone voice.

Frost, Gricko, Torbek, and Twig all glared at him. Even Hootsy and Pigtunia looked ready to maul him to pieces.

“I told them what you did. How your selfishness led to all this.” The others took a step towards him, but Kremy held up a hand, “If you had just had a little more faith, just gotten your head outta your ass, you could have had something so much better.” Kremy took on his living form again, wearing a sparkling black sequined dress. He took a sultry step towards Gideon, putting a hand on his shoulder and another on his waist, pinning him up against the wall, before whispering softly in his ear, “You could’ve had me.”

Gideon was panicking, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, one thought pounding in his head: this couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream of some sort. But Kremy’s hand on his shoulder felt real. He could feel the gatorkin’s breath on his neck. He pushed Kremy off of him and sank onto the floor, pulling his knees close to his chest.

Kremy’s skin sloughed off again, hitting the floor and disintegrating as the dress turned back into his usual purple suit. He sat down by Gideon, continuing to whisper venom into his ear, “I just want you to know, that I don’t blame you Gideon, I know you’re just scared and didn’t mean anything by it. They do though.” He gestured to the Krew, glaring down at Gideon, “They think that you wanted this. They aren’t coming to rescue you. There isn’t anyone left alive who loves you.”

Gideon clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the poisonous words spilling from the skeletal Kremy’s lips. He sat there, panicked, until eventually the muffled words faded. As the drugs left his system, Gideon found himself chained up and muzzled once more. He didn’t think he’d ever not been. His eyes snapped open suddenly, landing on a figure standing directly across from him. They were wearing a welding mask and held a wrench, which they brandished at him the moment they noticed he was awake.

Fuck.