The Shadehelm
(The following is written for our guild campaign in Maldraxxus!)
Her crimson eyes studied the leather bracelet looped around Remington’s wrist. The sinewy cord held a silver wagon wheel symbol in place. “That… looks familiar,” Celaryn mumbled. “Fence… Fence Macabre?”
The mask still rendered the caravan master mute, a precaution against dangerous spellcasters the House of Constructs installed when Remington was captured. The older undead’s eyes crinkled as a hidden smile lifted her expression behind the mask. She bobbed her head yes.
“I had the pleasure of meeting two of yours. Do you know a Dezzie and a Calria?”
Remington dipped her head once more.
“Ah. I apologize for the twenty questions. This conversation is a bit one-sided.”
“Perhaps I can aid?” A voice piped up from the cell’s corner. The figure there looked like a floating suit of armor pieces possessed by blue light. “I was overhearing your talk, well at least the one side of it.” An arcane light lit up in their metal palm as the figure hovered it before Remington. “I believe I can at least deactivate that muzzle’s magic.”
Rem squinted at the strange humanoid figure then peered at his hand. She shrugged then turned her muzzle toward him.
“This won’t hurt a bit,” he offered as he gripped the metal muzzle’s bottom. With a quick surge of arcane current, a crack spidered down the mask, separating the metal in two. Both pieces clanged to the cold stone floor. “Easy!”
Rem rubbed her jaw. It’s like she hadn’t used it in years. She opened her mouth, testing the joint. It made a sharp click. She’d get it fixed after she was back with the Fence. “Thank ya kindly.” She tipped her chin toward the strange figure. “What’re ya in fer?”
“Me?” The figure pressed a palm against his breastplate. “Let us say I am quite the thorn in the House of Constructs’ side.” He laughed. “My name is Kavar. I’m a Broker. And, yes, I would do it all over again.”
“Remington,” the one-eyed forsaken introduced. “If we’re doing icebreakers, s’pose I’m just a caravan master. Lead a lot of folks in the livin’ world. No idea if they’re okay right now.”
“I’m sure they’re doing fine!” Kavar chuckled. Though his tone did soften with sincerity. “Meditating on negative possibilities does no good.”
Both the broker and the forsaken looked to the elven figure who stared back at them with crimson eyes. “Celaryn,” she averted her gaze. “Just Celaryn, a wandering sword.” Her eyes fell to the floor.
Rem knew that look in other forsaken. Her voice softened as she scooched as much as her manacles would let her toward Celaryn. “Ya’ve been through a lot, haven’t ya?”
A knot choked Celaryn’s throat, partially blocking a shaking breath. Her jaw clenched, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet Rem’s eye. “I’ve… Lost family,” her voice threatened to break as she gripped the iron sword insignia looped around her neck.
A long silence passed. No words needed to be spoken to fill the air. Rem reached out, placing a cold hand on Celaryn’s shoulder. “Tell me about em?”
Celaryn shut her eyes. Her jaw trembled as she fumbled for the first words. “They were rowdy, reckless, and loud, but they cared and would have your back no matter who you were if you were one of their own.”
Rem squeezed Celaryn’s shoulder. “Ya cared fer them a lot too.”
A smooth gemstone slid into Celaryn’s palm. She looked down to the lapis lazuli shard in her hand. Its azure surface glimmered in the cell’s fading torchlight.
“This is the Good Stone.” Rem smiled. “Years ago, someone gave me this when I was in a dark place. Said it’d help good come to me, help me get through the hard days.”
Celaryn peered at the stone, turning it over in her pale fingers.
“Gave it to me with one caveat,” Rem added as she held up a claw. “If someone needs it more, give it to them.”
Celaryn clenched the stone and cradled it to her heart. “Thank you, Miss Thornbolt.”
“Call me Rem.” The caravan master scratched at her nape with a short chuckle. “No need ta be so formal, Celaryn.” Rem’s pulled her hand from Celaryn’s shoulder and let it rest in her lap. “Ya know, when we get outta here, if ya need a group ta roll with. Ya can come with us.”
“I’ll… I’ll think about it. Though those thoughts must fall to the side if we must focus on escaping first.”
Kavar raised a hand. “Not to intrude on a tender moment, but I’ve already a semblance of a plan in mind.”
“Which is?” Rem shifted her gaze to the broker.
“Have you heard of the Veins which lie below Maldraxxus?” Kavar pointed down at the floor. Both undead raised eyebrows at the question. “Tunnel complexes below the land,” Kavar clarified. “But first: We must gather allies and supplies. You are a caravan master, so your caravan must be outside, yes? I know of a way to smuggle messages. All we need is a coffin, corpse, and phylactery.”
