With Oz’s neatly draw map in hand, finding the two stalls was a breeze—not that there was much of a breeze, actually, being that they were underground—saving them a lot of time. Though, the harder thing was not getting distracted by the other stalls on the way.
Business first, then maybe let’s check out some antique stalls… maybe find some lunch… do they have anything other than mushrooms, I swear…
The first shop, run by Del Tadaban, had very clean-lined, functional pieces on display. They made some quick conversation with the owner, but looking between the Dhampir and the armor, it just didn’t seem to suit his style.
Moving onto the second shop, it seemed like a much better fit. The husband and wife who ran the place had a much more unique collection, and from the way they welcomed Kaid, it seemed like maybe Oz had mentioned him to them before…
Sundgar and Cali Fogsten looked over the materials that Kaid and Charlie pulled out of their bag. The raw mithril ore was turned over and examined by the clearly skilled smith, Cali.
“Aye this is fine stuff, where’d ye acquire it again?”
“Drow mine,” Kaid answers, keeping it simple.
“Ah,” Cali responds, glancing at her partne, “Got ya.”
Sundgar has a measuring tape out, and is asking Charlie about some design details while he’s at it. The Dwarf has to use a step stool to measure his shoulders.
“…I was thinking, something with a lot of inner pockets so I can keep vials of blood…”
“Aye, aye—ach—what’s that, lad? Blood?”
“Uhhh, just a hobby. I’m a… sanguine sommelier of sorts.”
“Ach, well we all have our interests,” the tailor gives a bit of a sideways glance at his wife before scrawling down the measurements in his notebook.
“This is a wee bit of a project, so it will take several days,” Cali looks over the details of both the armor and the clothing, “If ye can come back for a fitting in a day or two, Mister Bludstarved that would suit us fine.”
“Not a problem,” the Dhampir gives a nod and a wink.
“Give our regards to Ozzie, Kaid, tell the lad to come down and see us sometime! Aye I’m sure he’s right busy with his new duties, but still he should show his face here more often…” the Dwarven woman is already starting to get busy sketching on parchment, getting to work.
“Thanks Mr. and Mrs. Fogsten!” Kaid waved awkwardly as they walked back into the bustling market, wondering how much Oz had said about him and to who.
Combing through the stalls took much of the rest of the afternoon. They’d found some interesting trinkets and curiosities but hadn’t bought much other than a couple of snacks. There was a promising-looking vendor selling kebabs, which they initially mistook for beef, but turned out to be just another very hearty variety of mushroom.
“Could go for a little more protein, you know,” Charlie said wistfully, biting into the grilled fungus.
“No kidding. It’s all fungus and games until someone gets a nutrient deficiency.” The Warlock quipped.
“Ugh…” Charlie groaned. No matter how long they’d all been together, they still weren’t numb to Kaid constantly torturing them with horrible jokes.
“Haha, sorry!” Though, to be honest, he wasn’t sorry about that at all.
Softly glowing, the Crystal City was quieting down for the night. Kaid wandered back to the Temple district where Oz house was to be found. Without hesitation this time he used the key that had been given to him.
It was still pretty early in the evening, and Oz was in the kitchen. He was humming a tune to himself, seemingly lost in thought, or maybe just focused on washing the vegetables he was washing. Without really thinking about it, Kaid approached him from the left, giving him a hug.
Oz jumped more than Kaid expected, and it was then he realized that Oz hadn’t noticed him coming, that being his blind side and all. The Warlock retreated a pace, “Ah, my bad. I’m home! It’s just me!”
“—oh! Sorry, Kaid, I didn’t hear you come in,” Oz said with an easy smile after looking over at the smaller tiefling, “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes! Thanks to your recommendation I think we’re going to have Charlie in some really sweet threads. Your map was really easy to read, too… thanks again for that. Did you have a good day? Can I help you?” he gestured to the veggies.
“Day was fine! Sure! Just dice these, that’d be great. Here’s a knife—Did you end up going to Del or the Solgars?”
“We went with the Solgars—much more Charlie’s style,” Kaid responds, doing his best to chop up the vegetables Oz was handing to him. He hadn’t spent too much time in the kitchen.
“Thought so! Ah, just cut those a little more uniformly, they’ll cook up more evenly that way.”
“Uhh, like this?” Kaid says, getting a little nervous with Oz watching him.
“Almost! Here let me show you,” Oz adjusts Kaid’s grip on the knife, “If you position your hand like this, you’ll have more control.”
“Ah, thanks. I don’t touch... blades… very often. But it’s knife to have someone to show me what to do,” The cleric’s guiding hand is warm and confident on his own, and he finds himself getting a little flustered.
“That’s alright, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. He’s got a sharp wit, and he’s good with his hands!” Oz sounds amused as he returns to doing the rest of the prep for dinner.
Kaid busies himself with cutting carrots, trying to emulate what he was shown. As he gets into a groove, he starts to think about how easily he was able to sneak up on Oz earlier. With such threats looming in the world, such threats chasing after them, his limited vision seemed like such a liability. If only there was something I could do about it…
“Ahhh, that was great,” Oz stretches and pats his stomach, “Plus, it took half the time, with your skillful assistance.”
“It was tasty, but I’m pretty sure it actually took half again as much time since you kept having to show me what to do,” Kaid scowls jokingly.
“Let’s just consider the extra time an investment into future efficiency,” Oz chuckles.
They hadn’t really talked about that. Actually they hadn’t really talked about what this was. The Warlock could hardly believe his good fortune that he’d stumbled into this situation, with the ease and the comfort of it all. Kaid was hesitant to talk about what he was feeling, sometimes he felt like he was bottling his emotions so he didn’t have to examine them too carefully. The world felt too dangerous for this to be real or to last, and that felt like poison in his chest.
“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was daydreaming.”
“I was just asking if you’d like to make some Holy Water, since I was able to gather the components for the ritual. I’ll show you how to do it, if you’d like?”
“That would be amazing,” Kaid grabs Oz’s hand for a second, “Let me get my spellbook!”
When he returns the tall tiefling cleric is already setting up on a table in the living room, looking focused. “This will be interesting, I’ve never seen cleric spells performed by someone who isn’t a cleric. Does your…Patron bless the water?”
“Y’know, that’s a good question.” Kaid says, wondering himself. His Warlock Patron, the Great Old One Zathog, absolutely does not fall into a ‘holy’ category. More like terrible and unknowable.
“Alright, let’s get started.”
Casting Eldritch Blast felt like pulling on a comfortable pair of shoes for Kaid at this point—if those shoes did massive amounts of Force damage, that is to say. The three beams of energy he could muster burst forth to strike at his enemies, with ease. Yet still, casting new spell, and casting rituals, he could feel the otherworldly energy crawling through his mind. It was something "other", something that wasn't him. You might describe such a feeling as invasive, and it was, but the marks it made also granted him power. Through repeated castings, who is to say if it becomes his or if he just becomes numb to the sensation.
When Oz cast the spell the atmosphere was clear, purified.
Kaid's casting was different. Sure, the end result was the same. The water was blessed, but the energy that remained in the room was electric, forceful, strange.
Earlier, the Cleric had been watching him fumble with a knife, and Kaid was self-conscious. Now, the Warlock was in his element, channelling powers that had been growing more and more familiar over time.
He'd had his eyes closed, concentrating, and when he opened them he found that Oz was looking back at him, with an expression he’d seen before. It was an expression of fascination that he was very much into.
The ceremony isn’t complicated, but it is time consuming. It takes an hour to bless each vial of holy water. Between the two castings of the spell it’s already rather late.
However, there is a tension and energy in the space. The lingering magic hangs in the room, and the two casters, although drained from channelling this energy, inexplicably find that they still have quite a lot of vitality left. Certainly commanding magic will make you feel powerful, and in this power there is confidence. Especially for Kaid, there’s a sense of self-assurance that he turns to boldness.
"I'm going to have to write this down tomorrow," Kaid said, breathless, not wanting to wait any longer.
Tentative touches gave way to more persistent movements, and it wasn't too long before things got heated as our most hesitant Warlock found some initiative.
Kaid woke up slowly, rubbing his eyes. What time had they gone to bed... he wondered, as he rolled over and registered that he wasn't alone in the bed this morning.
Oz was lying, facing him now. His eyes were closed, looking peaceful. Kaid was resisting the urge to touch his face, then decided to give in. He lightly traced the scars on Oz's left eye. That he hadn't bothered to get an eye patch was somewhat surprising to the Warlock.
He would look handsome either way, so I suppose if the eye patch isn't useful... suddenly an idea came to him. That's it—!
At the same moment Oz's right eye fluttered open. "Mmm, g'morning."
"G-Good morning!" Kaid drew his hand back, suddenly self-conscious.
"You don't have to stop," Oz yawned through a smile, "Feels nice."
Kaid resumed what he had been doing, moving on to touch the scars on his collarbone, and across his chest, reminders of the skeletons that had been controlled by the Crystal Cult. They'd promised him protection and had failed miserably.
For all their adventures Kaid's wounds were few, the absence of scars was a sign of his caution, and luck.
Oz poked one of the stars on the Warlock's cheek, "I'm all scars and you're all stars."
He’d had one or two star marks on his skin since he was a child, but more had gradually appeared after he made his Pact with Zathog. After a while he lost count.
"Sorry we didn't protect you, back then." He was thinking about the damage the cleric had suffered.
"You're still apologizing for that?" Oz sighed, "I think you should give yourself more credit. I'm serious, Kaid, stop undervaluing the things you do."
Kaid struggled to find words to express what he wanted to say. He looked away, "Aren't you going to be late for work."
"Nope, I have today off, so I'm not letting you off the hook that easily this time." Oz sat up, then leaned over Kaid, not quite pinning him but definitely keeping him in place.
Kaid tried to pull the covers up over his face and just barely succeeded.
"Sure, your power is coming from somewhere else, I could feel it. But so does mine. You're shaping it, though, Kaid. It's your intentions. You can't just take responsibility for the things that go wrong. Take a little ownership of the things that go right, too."
"I'll take your advice under consideration," came a muffled reply from under the covers.
"Your humble nature is adorable, Kaid, but I like when you're more assertive too—like yesterday." The Warlock could practically hear the grin on the Cleric's face. He felt his own face grow hot but also couldn't help the sly smile that was growing.
He felt the weight shift off the bed as Oz got up, releasing him.
Kaid peeked out from behind his blanket barrier and definitely caught an eyeful of a very nice butt, which only increased the smile on his face.
Oz threw on a robe, catching Kaid's eye, "So, you've got me to yourself today. What shall we do?"
