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Its a caduceus inspired dice bag shaped like a mug with some nice bee-fabric and some soft pink/lilac accents (also note my gorgeous bi-dice that my amazing friend got me!)
The ONLY people who have had red eyes on them are those who have read the creepy magic book. Essek hasn’t had contact with the Tombtakers , so there’s no reason to worry about that.
Caduceus knows that. Jester knows that.
The ONLY reason they had to do that was to try and give Caleb shirtless Essek, and potentially make Caleb go shirtless to show Essek his eyes.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The fires dance and shimmer over Vo, but only on the beaches, and not with any fear.
Instead, there is laughter singing through the trees. There is singing, too, warm and bright, the sound of two dozen amateur dancers cheering in the moonlight.
Somewhere, Yasha is helping a hunter cut logs for the blaze. Somewhere, Jester is telling stories to children about an unknown world. Somewhere, Beau is criticizing a cask of island-wine, and getting very drunk. Somewhere, Veth and Caleb are helping a very old woman fix a watch.
Fjord straightens up and sticks his poker into the sand, watching the embers go out with a little hiss. He stretches, loosening his neck and wincing when his bruises argue back. He’d gotten thrashed around Vokodo’s cavern pretty hard at the end, there, but most of the firebloom burns are gone now, and between two clerics and a vengeful druid, he doesn’t have much to complain about.
He glances around the beach and can smell the first sizzle of cooking meat. Something fruity hovers past, and he can hear Beau’s singing growing louder.
And then, he notices something else, in the corner of his vision. Past the celebration, farther down the shore, sitting on the sand with his knees against his chest—
It’s Caduceus. His outline is purple in the twilight.
Fjord considers the fire. The music, and then he leaves the poker to finish smoldering by itself.
By the time he’s nearly reached Caduceus, the merriment of the bonfire is barely a hum amid the turning tides. Light carries farther, though, and here it reflects an orange sea across the starry waves. It would be beautiful, it is beautiful, although it reminds Fjord a little too much of their last fight. He ignores it, instead focusing on the seated shape in front of him.
“Caduceus, you’re going to miss the food at this rate."
There is no immediate answer. Fjord stops, and raises his brow.
"Caduceus? Oh, shit, is this a vegetarian thing? We should’ve said something earli...er...”
In this light, his friend is mostly shadow, but for a second it almost looks as if Caduceus raises an arm, wipes his face...
Fjord stops. He dares himself to have seen it wrong, and blinks.
"...Caduceus?!” This time, he is shouting. “Cad, is...everything alright?!”
It could be the waves, but for a second, a sniffle, and then—
“Oh, Mister Fjord, I didn’t hear you c—”
“Are you crying?”
Fjord clears the distance in a second, scattering sand everywhere. A part of him instantly curses the decision, why in the world would you rush at him—but another part, the honest part, the deeply confused part, is too worried to do anything else.
But Caduceus...laughs. It’s more stilted than it should be, though then again, Cad’s always been a weird one, in a special way—
Until Fjord sees the tears. There are two streaks of dampness matting Cad’s fur.
“Oh,” he says, before he can stop himself.
There is a flash in Caduceus’s eyes. It is so small, so brief, so hidden away, that if Fjord had not been staring at him, he would have missed it entirely.
It’s panic. Caduceus says, “No, don’t mind me, Mister Fjord, I think I might’ve gotten carried away.”
Fjord’s mouth opens. It closes. It opens again.
“Carried away?”
“Just a bit.”
Fjord manages to stop gawking on the third try. He drops down, wincing a little at the sharp movement but ending in a determined, eye-level squat.
“Carried away,” he repeats.
Caduceus does not meet his gaze. His voice, when it finally does comes, is more unsteady than Fjord has ever heard.
“I, ah, I think...today was just a lot. It was...there was a lot.”
“Yes, well...yeah,” Fjord says, and tries to shuffle his back into Cad’s face. More sand kicks up around his ankles. “We did fight a fake fire god and nearly set off a volcano. Then again, that sort of thing feels somewhat standard for us.”
Caduceus coughs, and only after a second does Fjord realize it’s a laugh.
“We, we do certainly get into all sorts of trouble.”
“Right,” says Fjord, still slightly mystified. He glances around the beach, sees Caduceus still avoiding him, hears the raucous melody of cheering far behind.
He looks up. He looks down. Then:
“...can I sit?”
There’s a vague gesture in response. Fjord accepts this as an answer.
The sand is cool. The wind sweeps across his hair.
“I’m...not very...I think I might have a reputation for being somewhat unobservant,” he says, after a pause. “Sometimes. But...I don’t think I’m a fool, Caduceus. Though even a fool could see that you’re upset.”
“I’m n—”
“I’m not done.” He looks up. Far, far above them, the stars glimmer bright. “I think...I think...that although I wasn’t there to see it initially, I believe that ever since you came to join our little troupe, your presence has been very good for us. I worry that...maybe, we haven’t returned the favor.”
“Favor?” Caduceus chuckles. “There’s no favor to return.”
There is a weight to Fjord’s silence.
“Hm. I wonder about that.”
Caduceus feels his brow furrow. He tries to stop it, but it does.
“Mister Fjord,” he says softly, “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Right,” Fjord nods. “In that case...it’s a failing on our part.”
The waves ebb and flow on the shore. They are far away enough not to fear getting wet, but close enough still to taste the salt breeze.
“Why are you upset?” Fjord murmurs. “Is it...was it the fight? Are you hurt, or—”
“Oh, no. Not me.”
He glances over.
“Then...?”
Caduceus stares at the ground. His boots are off, and little grains of sand cling to his armor.
“Do you...ever feel...frustrated, Fjord?”
“Hah! Is that really your question?”
When the pause carries on, Fjord clears his throat.
“Er...yes, Caduceus. I do.”
“What about guilty? Very guilty.”
“Uh...sure, I think so. Maybe not...I’m not so sure to what degree you’re talking, here, but I’ve definitely had regrets.”
“And...what about feeling like you’re a burden?”
Fjord leans back on his palms. “Caduceus, are we just going down the list of how I go about my day?”
“No,” and when Caduceus chuckles, Fjord can see a little gleam of moonlight against his fur. “I’m, ah, I’m going down mine.”
“Oh.”
“It’s...it was bad on this island. It was...I felt those things...a lot. And, well,” he gives another laugh, “well, it sort of came to a head down in that tunnel.”
Fjord considers this.
“The...”
“The underwater one,” Caduceus says. “When the...the fireblooms opened all around us and I...lost to Vokodo.”
Fjord blinks. “You mean...oh, well...plenty of us had fallen to him at that point, didn’t we? I mean, Yasha forgot the name of her wife and Jester lost her beard oil, er, my beard oil, and I forgot Vandren, and...”
He trails off, when he sees Cad look up.
“Right,” says Caduceus, “I forgot things too. But...I did something worse. I hurt you.”
Fjord hesitates. “You...didn’t really—”
“I did,” says Caduceus. “I fought against you. I blinded you. And you spent all your spells on me, and when the fight started, you couldn’t defend yourself, and got even more injured.”
“Well,” says Fjord, with as much certainty as he can muster, “I don’t know if...three spells would’ve really changed much.” Then he pauses again, and adds, “Not, uh, not that the gifts of the Wildmother are anything to scoff at. You know.”
Behind them, smoke pours up into the sky. They can’t smell it from here, but the feast is beginning, all joining in together to celebrate, save for two.
“They aren’t,” Caduceus says slowly, “but...do you want to know something, Fjord?”
“Er...of course.”
He also leans back. Also takes a second to breathe deep by the sea.
“In that moment, when I...fell to Vokodo. It was...exhilarating. It...it felt...it felt like...well,” he murmurs a laugh. “It felt like, for a second I had a purpose again.”
Foam dissolves into the sand. Far, far away, a hermit crab surfaces.
“A...purpose?”
“A mission. A goal, a journey, a...a divine reassurance that I was on the right path. It’s something that I...haven’t had since I saw my family.”
“You...wait, really? Why?”
“Well,” Caduceus gives a shrug. “Well, I suppose it’s because I did fulfill that purpose. We got the green glass. We visited the Dusts, and then the Stones, and my family went home to save the Grove. That was all I dreamed about, all that I knew I had to accomplish for...for decades. And we...did it. I did it. And now...it’s over.”
He takes a deep breath.
“And now...I’m just here. I have faith that she’s guiding me to where I need to go, but...where? Why? And...sometimes, even that is...even that feels...”
Fjord turns, and sees Caduceus staring at him. His hair is a tangle tripping down his back. His eyes are hesitant, shining in the moonlight.
“Sometimes...when I am with you all,” he says quietly, “sometimes I just feel...free.”
The waves come and go. The tiny hermit crab faces down an endless, churning, ever-flowing sea.
“She likes freedom, doesn’t she?” Fjord murmurs. “Isn’t that...I mean...that’s what she’s meant to me.”
Caduceus smiles. It’s a half-risen thing. “She meant duty to the Clays. A legacy to fulfill. A home to tend to, a garden to grow, people and family to take care of.”
Fjord meets his gaze. “Is that what you want?”
Caduceus doesn’t answer right away. When he does:
“...I don’t know anymore. Sometimes...I think I want to tend to our friends. Take care of them. Help you all grow to where you can be.”
“You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Oh, don’t I know it.”
They are quiet for a moment. Then:
“What about other times?” Fjord murmurs. “What about then?”
Caduceus glances up. He takes in the thousands of stars above him, watches a thousand lights fade and glow.
“It can be scary to not have a purpose.”
“I managed. I managed for...oof, maybe thirty years?”
“Did you like it?”
Fjord shrugs. “I didn’t know anything else. Then, for a while, I thought my purpose was to fill a role. Be a captain. Become powerful. But...I didn’t much like that.”
“No,” Caduceus chuckles. “I didn’t think you did.”
“In a way, though,” Fjord sighs, “I mean...I don’t really know if I have a purpose either. Most of the time...I’m just here. I’m just...doing my thing. As a member of the Mighty Nein. I’m helping our friends as much as I can, and I’m getting to see the world. And learn new things. And...in doing so, I...well, I think maybe I’ve been more free than I ever had been. Maybe that’s a purpose. Even if it doesn’t feel like, I dunno, divine providence, or whatever, I’m...I’m still happy doing it. I love our friends. I think that’s enough.”
“Yes,” Caduceus says quietly. “I...I’m happy with them too.”
“Well, there you go, then!” Fjord taps him on the arm. “Maybe that’s all you really need. And I’m sorry it doesn’t feel...feel like a godly mission, but it still should be worth hanging onto, no?”
When he glances back, Caduceus is still looking at him.
“Right,” he echoes. “I think it is.”
Maybe it’s the beach, or the heat from the bonfire, but Fjord can feel his face getting a little warm. He coughs.
“I hope, er, that helped. I don’t know if that’s...good advice, to turn other people into your purpose. Because now that I think about it, it does still sort of sound like that whole garden-tending thing, which is a little contradictory—”
“Fjord?”
“Um, yes?”
“It helped.”
“Oh, good.”
“Fjord?”
“...um. Yes?”
Caduceus’s eyes are turned to the sky.
“I want to be free, too. But...I would like to be free with everyone else. And with you.”
Fjord coughs again. Though it isn’t as sharp. And the warmness is nice.
“I’d like that too.”
They sit there on the beach for a while after that. Later, perhaps, their friends will realize that they are missing, and come calling for them. Later, perhaps, there will be food to share and island-wine to drink and songs to sing. Later, they will sleep in huts beneath the stars and even after that, much, much later, perhaps there will even be a new path, a new journey, a new mission to follow and a new purpose to chase.
But all that will happen later. For now, all there is, is the sound of the waves, the brush of wind, and freedom, together.
I have now noticed that I have gotten frumpkin first roll wrong, it was actually a 7 and not 19! Sorry about that!
A little thing for critical role! I was working on a bigger post but ended up bitting off more than I could chew. So I drew a D20 dice with everyone first roll in the 2nd campaign! I wasn’t sure about Essek, so I just placed his level (maybe?). I’ve been watching critical role for about two years now, so this web show helped me get through a lot of stuff. Thank you critical role , I can’t wait for the final episode of campaign 2 this Thursday. 🖤💙
