A Long Road Home

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Imogen is tidying the house, which is starting to look cluttered. She looks skeptically at a jumble of deer antlers in the corner.

Imogen: Laudna, are we keepin' this . . . whatever this is . . . for a reason?

Laudna: (calling from elsewhere in the house) I'm going to carve them! Very versatile material, antlers. Just leave them there, I'll take care of them.

Panel 2: Imogen moves on to a collection of assorted empty bottles on a shelf. Much of the shelf space has been given over to discarded odds and ends Laudna has collected: empty spools, bones, twine, scraps of fabric and fur.

Imogen: And these?

Laudna: I'm saving those! We might need them for something!

Panel 3: Imogen looks inside a box and winces to find it full of dead beetles and snail shells.

Imogen: Laudna! This is literally a box'a dead bugs, why're you keepin' this?

Laudna: You can crush the shells to make dye! I just need enough of each color for it to be worthwhile. Just leave them there, I'll put them somewhere else.

Imogen: All right.

Panel 4: Imogen joins Laudna in the kitchen, where she is cleaning. Imogen gathers up a basket of a few vegetables past their prime -- sprouting potatoes, limp carrots, turnips with blackening spots. Laudna looks over, alarmed.

Laudna: Where are you taking those?

Imogen: To the compost heap, where they belong.

Panel 5: Laudna tries to rescue the vegetables from the basket.

Laudna: Wait! Parts of them might still be good.

Imogen: Laudna, I am beggin' you. Nothin' stinks like a rotten potato. Please let me put ‘em out of their misery.

Panel 6: Laudna anxiously fidgets with a carrot, looking unhappy. Setting the basket down, Imogen covers her nervous hands with her own.

Imogen: Hey. I know, sweetheart. But we're doin' okay. Still got plenty of veggies left, and these guys are gonna be put to work makin' compost for the garden, so nothin's goin' to waste. The winter's almost over. And come spring we'll have a nice garden of our own where we can plant anything we need. Strawberries, lettuce, potatoes, carrots, melons, whatever we want. Okay?

(Author's Notes)

The cozy domesticity montage continues.

Panel 1: At the end of a work day, the two of them exit the shop. The sign outside now reads “Hippogriff Gifts & Thrifts” with “and Repairs” tacked underneath as an addendum. Laudna is carrying a rather decrepit baby doll previously seen in the back of the shop, which Imogen is regarding with some misgivings.

Panel 2: They walk arm in arm through the market, stopping to look at a display of winter vegetables. A child in the market points eagerly at Laudna, who waves.

Child: Look! It's the rat girl!

Panel 3: At home by the fire they sit together with a partly-finished quilt spread over their laps, stitching together.

Panel 4: They dance in the kitchen to the music of Laudna’s thoughts. A mixing bowl on the counter suggests something is baking in the oven.

Panel 5: View of inside the cottage from outside. It's evening, and the interior is lit up with a warm fireglow. Laudna is carrying two cups of tea to the couch, where Imogen is waiting with a book. Outside the window are two snow creatures. Imogen has built a friendly-looking horse. Laudna has built a monstrosity.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Behind the counter of the shop, where she has been given her own space to work, Laudna weaves her mending magic over an astonished customer's broken teapot.

Panel 2: At home, Imogen hangs the commemorative plate over the fireplace with Mage Hand while Laudna watches approvingly. The mantel has been tidied and furnished with other castoff knickknacks from the store.

Panel 3: In the store, Imogen organizes and dusts a display of music boxes, humming along with one that's open.

Panel 4: Laudna and Pâté are spinning a story about an antique rooster-shaped lamp to a prospective family of customers, who are listening avidly.

Laudna: This handsome fellow will protect and guard your home so long as the flame is burning, but you must be mindful of your manners, and always treat him with respect! Just ask poor Pâté.

Pâté: A lesson learned the ‘ard way, that was. I wasn't too courteous about my manner of addressin' Mr. Rooster here, and what followed was the worst week of bad luck I've ‘ad in me entire death.

Customer: Oh no!

Pâté: First Laudna here dropped me in the mud and I had to have a bath. Then a fox tried to carry me off for a snack. Then I got mixed up in the laundry somehow, earnin' meself a second unwanted bath, and to top it all off Miss Imogen put me through the wringer and me poor bonce popped clean off!

Laudna: It really was quite dreadful for him. But a guardian lamp with a built-in curse! You can't find that kind of thing just anywhere.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Laudna's wayward elbow accidentally knocks a painted commemorative plate off a shelf, shattering it.

Laudna: Oh! I'm so sorry. Here, let me --

Eisfuura Grandma (Mrs. Griff): Eh, don't worry about it, doll. That ugly ol' thing's been gatherin' dust for years.

Panel 2: She looks on in astonishment as Laudna gathers the pieces together and casts Mending on it. As she moves her hands in a sewing gesture, a spectral red thread weaves along the cracks, stitching them together.

Laudna: Here, let me --

Mrs. Griff: Well, I'll be. Griff! You seein' this?

Panel 3: She hands the mended plate back to her.

Laudna: There you are! Good as new.

Mrs. Griff: Better, even. That's quite a trick you've got there.

Laudna: Why, thank you!

Mrs. Griff: People'd pay good money to see that, nevermind havin’ their things repaired so nice. I don't suppose you're lookin’ for a job?

Laudna: Oh! I'd be delighted.

Panel 4: At the counter, Imogen winces as Laudna begins enthusiastically to extol her virtues.

Laudna: You really ought to consider my friend Imogen over there as well! She's a very gifted sorceress and her magic is useful in all sorts of situations.

Mrs. Griff: Is that so?

Laudna: I've seen her knock down a whole limb from a tree with lightning! 

Mrs. Griff: Well, that's . . .

Laudna: You know, if you ever needed firewood. And she can lift things without touching them. Not very heavy things though, I don't think. Still, it's quite useful.

Panel 5: She continues, gesturing animatedly. Mrs. Griff, knitting her eyebrows in concern, looks like she may be having some regrets.

Mrs. Griff: I'm sure . . .

Laudna: Oh! And one time, after I was impaled on a hay knife by a vigilante ex-sheriff on a power trip -- it's a long story -- well as you can imagine there was blood everywhere --

Mrs. Griff: Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that, dear . . .

Laudna: -- and she used her magic to clean it all up in an instant. It was almost like it had never happened! My clothes had never been cleaner.

Panel 6: Griff looks at Imogen.

Mr. Griff: Well, young lady, you sound very talented.

Imogen: Think she's oversellin' it a bit, but yeah. I reckon I could keep all your knickknacks 'round here dusted and polished pretty easy.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: On the way into town they find a tumbledown tin-roofed farm cottage on the outskirts, partly covered in ivy. There's a well in the side yard and an overgrown garden plot. Laudna peeks in the windows, one of which has a faded “For Rent” sign in it. 

Laudna: Imogen! Come look at this. It’s perfect!

Imogen: You sure no one's livin' here?

Laudna: Oh yes, it looks quite abandoned.

Panel 2: Reverse angle as Imogen joins her at the window. The interior is very dusty and the wallpaper is peeling, but there are a few articles of furniture.

Laudna: It's even better than the last one. At least two rooms! And look at that rolltop desk!!

Imogen: Wonder if we can find out who owns it. Let's ask around in town.

Panel 3: The town square. There is a large, broad-limbed live oak tree in the center of town hung with lanterns, which makes Laudna a little anxious, and she slips her arm into Imogen's as they pass. Everyone seems friendly enough, no one is outwardly hostile to them, although they are the target of some curious glances.

Panel 4: On the street they are greeted by a smiling lagomore cleric of the All-Hammer. 

Cleric: You gals new in town? We'd love to see your smilin' faces at the weekly sermon. 

Panel 5: Inside a thrift store they find the owners of the cottage. Imogen talks to the man behind the counter, an elderly eisfuura of owlish shape. The window reads (backwards from the inside) “Hippogriff Gifts & Thrifts.”

Eisfuura Grandpa (Mr. Griff): That old place? Sure, we can rent it to you, if that's what you want. Just a warnin' -- no one's lived there for years, and I'm afraid we haven't kept up with the upkeep. Probably in need of some TLC.

(Author's Notes)

Splash page: Coming down the other side of the mountain the next day, they see a little town cradled in a sleepy valley of grassy plainland, and the blighted expanse of the Hellcatch Valley beyond. They are singing.

(Author's notes)

Panel 1: They flop down in the snow, wearily. Imogen looks exhausted. Laudna looks morose.

Laudna: I'm sorry.

Imogen: Why're you sorry? You saved me.

Laudna: I tried to warn you . . . things wouldn't be easy for you with me. Now I've put you in danger, just as I feared. They were after you because of me.

Imogen: They were after me because of what I did in Gelvaan. 

Panel 2: The dragonborn has been withered away to a skeleton. Wildflowers sprout from the skull’s eye sockets and bloom from the snow around it.

Laudna: But those hunters were able to track you because of me. Everywhere we go people see you as something to be feared and shunned. Tainted by association. You've been turned away from inns and shops and left without food and shelter because I was there. You'd be so much better off without me.

Imogen: Laudna, no.

Laudna: I just . . . don't understand.

Panel 3: Laudna looks away.

Laudna: You're so brilliant, Imogen. You're clever, and--and capable, and you have so much potential. And I'm . . . I'm just a dead thing on puppet strings being pulled by some bodiless shadow woman for reasons I don't even know. I don't see why you choose to--to burden yourself with me when you could go so far without me.

Panel 4: Imogen sits up as Laudna rolls over and buries her face in the snow.

Imogen: That's not true, Laudna. You're not a thing, and you're not a burden. You're a person. You're you. And I never would have gotten this far without you. I don’t just mean out here in the wilderness. Without you I’d still be back in Gelvaan waitin’ for my life to end. They were fearin’ and shunnin’ me long before you came around. You’re what makes it bearable.

Laudna: Oh, Imogen.

Panel 5: Laudna looks up at her. Plucking one of the flowers from her healed wounds, Imogen tucks it affectionately behind her ear.

Imogen: So there's no place I'd rather be than here, with you.

Laudna: (faintly) In the snow?

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Imogen cuts herself free on the rogue’s fallen knife. There are flowers blooming from her wrists where the rope chafed her hands.

Panel 2: She runs to Laudna, who is still standing silent in her Form of Dread. Realizing now that her pact with Delilah was never really broken, she approaches her hesitantly, unsure of whom she's going to find.

Panel 3: Cautiously, she folds back her veil, searching her face for recognition.

Imogen: Laudna? Is . . . is it you?

Panel 4: Finding none, she takes her face in her hands and leans up to kiss the monster on the forehead.

Panel 5: The veils fall away. Laudna resumes her usual form as Imogen puts her arms around her.

Panel 6: She returns the embrace.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Another vine wraps around the throat of the dragonborn as she fumbles with her blunderbuss.

Panel 2: And the cleric’s. His eyes are wide with mingled fear and awe.

Cleric: My Lady! Mother of -- holy death!

Panel 3: At the edge of the clearing stands the haunting figure of a veiled woman. The white of her face through her mourning veils gives her a likeness to the Matron of Ravens, but shadowy tendrils stretch from her like tree branches, or upraised arms, seeming to lift the three hunters aloft as though they are dangling, strangling, from ropes.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: (wide) A clearing in the woods. Imogen, looking a little beat up, is tied up and gagged to prevent spellcasting. The three hunters are tending their wounds by a small campfire. The gunslinger has taken Imogen’s knife and the rogue, wearing her coat, is shaking the handy haversack upside-down but unable to find its contents. The three goats are tethered nearby.

Gunslinger: Nice knife . . . wait.

Cleric: One who can raise the dead is an offense to the eyes of the Duskmaven. We must kill her now and be done with it.

Gunslinger: Nah. Bounty’s higher if we take her in alive.

Cleric: She is too dangerous to be allowed to live!

Rogue: Yeah! Look what she did to my face!

Panel 2: Imogen listens fearfully to this conversation.

Rogue: How about a compromise? Reckon she can’t cast spells without her fingers.

Panel 3: The sillgoats prance nervously in place, tossing their heads and pulling at their tethers.

Panel 4: Drawing a knife, the rogue rips the gag away from Imogen’s mouth.

Rogue: We should cut out her tongue, too. Can’t be too sure with magic types.

Panel 5: Abruptly she drops the knife as a tendril of shadowy vine wraps around her neck, draining the color from her.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: View of the crevasse from above. Laudna leans wearily against the rock face.

Delilah: But you were all too eager to be rid of me not so long ago. After all I've done for you. Why the sudden change of heart?

Laudna: I have to help Imogen.

Delilah: Imogen, whom you so callously abandoned to the tender mercies of those hunters.

Panel 2: Laudna addresses the empty air angrily.

Laudna: You made me this way!!

Panel 3: More contrite, she continues.

Laudna: I can't -- I can't lose her. I love her. I've got to save her. But I can't, not without you. Please. If you've ever -- if you've ever cared for me at all, help me now.

Panel 4: The overhanging roots of the tree on the top of the cliff stretch down, seeming to embrace her.

Delilah: Dear little wayward lamb. Of course I care for you. But what will you give me in return?

Panel 4: Laudna shuts her eyes resolutely.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: The impact jars her back to her senses. Raising her head, she finds herself alone.

Laudna: Imogen!

Panel 2: Painfully, she gets to her feet with the help of the rock face, holding her ribs.

Panel 3-4-5: She starts to climb, but the little strength there is in her battered and spindly limbs fails her and she slides back down into the snow.

Panel 5: Lifting her head slightly, she reaches out her hand. In resignation, she whispers the words like a prayer.

Laudna: Lady Briarwood . . . please . . .

Panel 6: Bowing her head in resignation, she whispers the name like a prayer, or an invocation.

Laudna: Delilah . . . Lady Briarwood . . . Please . . . help me.

Panel 7: And for the first time in a long while, there is an answer.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Laudna goes still, her eyes wide open and blank in the blazing light of the cleric’s holy symbol.

Panel 2: Then she flees. A heavy blunderbuss shot rings out behind her.

Imogen: Laudn—!

Panel 3: Laudna is running blindly up the mountainside, with no impulse other than to get away from the cleric.

Panel 4: Unaware of her surroundings, she teeters on the edge of a precipice.

Panel 5: And falls, tumbling down the steep embankment like a doll dropped by a careless child.

(Author's Notes)

Panel 1: Imogen shoves her lightning-laden hand into the upside-down face of the rogue. Laudna, still wincing in the brightness of the light spell, is pawing at her eyes.

Panel 2: The rogue falls to the ground, clutching her eyes. Grabbing Laudna’s hand, Imogen scrambles from under the riverbank as a blunderbuss shot reverberates behind them.

Panel 3: Turning behind them, Imogen strikes out with a bolt of lightning at the pursuing gunslinger.

Panel 4: But the lightning does not have the effect she hoped on the dragonborn. She smiles, the lingering sparks of Imogen’s spell crackling harmlessly around her as a light begins to glow in her throat.

Gunslinger: Oh, honey. Lightnin’ magic against a bronze dragonborn? Bless your heart.

Panel 5: Imogen and Laudna dodge in opposite directions, sliding on the frozen river, from the line of lightning the dragonborn breathes in reply.

Panel 6: Separated from Imogen, Laudna finds herself facing the blazing holy symbol held aloft by the cleric.