Tis could feel Heidi’s warmth to her right. It was soothing, comforting, and in all honesty, right now it was probably all that kept her from catching a cold. Despite the health benefits of sharing body warmth with a big half-orc, Tis would normally already have scooted away if Heidi had tried to sit so closely.  However, that was not an option right now, with the two of them side by side already filling out the tiny cave that sheltered them from the storm outside. Had it just been rain or wind, even snow, Tis would have argued for moving on, to keep going. But they had tumbled down a cliff, it was dark out, they had no idea where the others were, and with the elements beating down on them this harshly, it was safer to stay here, stay here and wait until they could search for their friends – or be searched for – once the storm let up. That left about… a shitton of hours Tis would have to spend here in rather intimate proximity to the half-orc. Great. “Right, Tis?” She hadn’t been listening. At least there was never any awkward silence with Heidi. Well, not never, sometimes the bard managed to “punish” Tis with about five minutes of silence before getting distracted and talking to her again. “Riiiight, Tis?” “I wasn’t listening”, she replied honestly to the repeated question, looking up. To nobody’s surprise, Heidi was pouting. Tis wasn’t quite sure how she did that, what with those teeth.   “What were you saying?”, she nudged, and could watch the other woman consider not repeating her words on principle, but then again, Tis wasn’t sure Heidi had principles. Hypocrite. She probably had more than Tis. “I saiiiid if you sit on my lap we can cuddle and that would be warmer, right?” Tis must have made a face journey, because Heidi added: “Heidi is not smart.” She sounded so solemn at that, that Tis didn’t find it in her to make a snide remark. “But”, Heidi continued, and her smile grew very soft at that: “I know cuddling is nice and warm and that would be good, right? You don’t want to get sick, right?” “Was that last part a threat?”, Tis asked quickly, to quickly, averting her gaze. A quick snarky comment before Heidi could see that she was… Was she flustered? This was stupid. The Half-orc woman thought about that question a little too long for Tis liking, so she held up a hand to snap her out of her considerations: “I know it wasn’t a threat. You couldn’t threaten a fly. Or wouldn’t, rather.” “I have threatened flies! Probably. Only the mean ones though.” Tis just left that statement alone, and after another moment Heidi held out her arms. With how cramped they were, it was awkward, and not even directed at Tis, but the message was clear. “Heidi I’m NOT cuddling with you.” It didn’t even take five minutes until Tis was wrapped in the warmest embrace of her life, sitting on Heidi’s lap, back against her stomach and chest, big arms around Tis, her own kerchief up to her nose. Tragically, it WAS better. Even Heidi’s humming was a source of comfort rather than annoyance. She was never going to admit any of that, but at least she was probably not going to get sick tonight. With Heidi’s happy melody in her ears, Tis slowly drifted off to sleep.

It burned. Her whole arm was prickling and burning and stinging. Of course it had been magic. Gouda was careful with his potions and tinctures. Well, for the most part, at least, the droplet sized hole in the floor next to his work table begged to differ. But with his magic... Not that it was his fault, wild magic was hard to control, it came from nowhere, or from somewhere undefined or whatever and, well, it was wild, and it manifested however it wanted to, and sometimes, sometimes you lost control. At least that, or something along those lines, was what she had heard Gouda’s and Cheddar’s parents explain to them once after the former had grown a beard of feathers. (That incident had also caused Tis to realize she had a feather allergy. Beautiful. At least that got her out of cleaning and preparing chickens for cooking.) So it had not been a bottle of fire stuff, it had not been the acid he secretly worked with even though his parents had forbidden him to do so, said he was too young. It had been a burst of magic, a burst of flame and electricity surging from him and up her arm, causing her to scream before she could clutch her unharmed hand over her mouth and bite down on her finger. Gouda looked at her, horrified. They had not been fighting. No arguing, no heated discussion. The burst of emotion that had caused this pain… had been laughter. A joke, something stupid, and now it hurt like all hell. When the immediate agony subsided, she saw that Gouda was already scrambling to get a salve, probably something his brother had mixed while training with the village’s healer. She wasn’t going to complain about a little relief so she sat down, wordlessly, and let him lather that stuff on her arm in a generous fashin. It was cool to the touch, which made her sigh with relief, even though the thought of what her arm must look like made her skin crawl. Was she bleeding? Had Gouda washed his hands? Stupid thoughts. She forced herself to glance at her arm as her friend smeared the healing salve all over it, muttering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry”. Looking at it, luckily, it didn’t seem that bad, but her arm would probably be red for a while. “It’s okay.” “I’ll take you to the healer or to Cheddar or, should we get my parents?”, her friend babbled and Tis realized his magic had probably never done anything harmful before. “No”, she said firmly, which made him look up. “No”, she repeated, more softly now: “We’re not going to the healer or anywhere, we won’t tell anyone about this.” “We won’t?” “We won’t.” There was a glaring contest, a battle of wills, for a second only, before Gouda looked away, as if afraid more magic would shoot from his eyes if he glared at her too intently. “I don’t want Ma and Pa to think you’re too dangerous to hang out with. You’re my best friend, I don’t need the drama”, she explained. “But maybe I am too dan-“ Tis knocked him over the head before he could finish. Not… like… not hard, that boy was brittle and she had more strength than she knew what to do with most days. It did shut that self-doubting talk right up, though. “I bet I’m more dangerous than you!”, she exclaimed, at which he raised an eyebrow. “I just burned your arm. I’m clearly more dangerous”, he mumbled. “I can wield an axe!” “You almost hit your foot yesterday!” “See? Dangerous!!” “But I can shoot fire!” “You grow feathers, there’s nothing less intimidating!” “That was ONE time!” Without warning, they both burst out laughing. Gouda flinched when he realized that, but no burst of magic happened and Tis just kept laughing, not afraid of him, or anything, When he joined back in again, she felt relieved. She would have to tell her parents she fell down while playing in the woods and accidentally sled down a hill, braking with the length of her arm. That should look about the same way. She couldn’t have them telling her to not spend time with Gouda anymore. And they would, if they thought he was uncontrollable, a danger to her, wild. All the things they said about Heidi. She could do that, she could stay away from Heidi, or at least not get too close. But she needed this, needed him. One close friend was enough, but she needed that to be Gouda. When they calmed down, sitting on the floor, sharing their bread and cheese – of course there was cheese – like nothing had happened, Gouda asked her: “If your parents did tell you to not hang out with me anymore, would you listen?” Tis looked at her feet for a moment, hesitating, before shaking her head: “Nah. But it’s much easier if I don’t have to sneak around too much. I’m not exactly stealthy, ya know?” “Yeah, no kidding.” That earned him a handful of cheese in his face, and her, it earned happy laughter from her best friend. It made her skin not hurt anymore.

“Tis you don’t have to drink it, actually, please don’t.” The worry in Gouda’s voice was hard to ignore. He was never 100% sure if his inventions would work, but to have him actively advise you to NOT try it out… he must have been pretty certain of his failure. … Unless you were talking about poisons, then his advice to not drink it probably meant he was pretty confident. And in a way, what Tis was now holding in her hand WAS poison. “Someone’s gonna have to”, Mahandrir added from his place leaned against the wall, arms crossed, voice flat. Here was someone who wasn’t worried about the dwarven woman’s wellbeing. In a way, that was refreshing. “We can come up with a different plan”, Gouda pleaded, trying to grab the vial from Tis’ hand, but she dodged, keeping her eyes on him, shooting him a warning look. Yes, he was worried. Tis tried to ignore the lump in her throat. Maybe she was just getting sick. “If we had any other options you wouldn’t have been working on this for the past ten hours, would you?”, Myr chimed in while fiddling with the skull necklace around her neck: “We need to get in there, or at least one of us has to, and only the dead can cross that barrier.” There it was. ‘Dead’. It wasn’t anything new to hear Myr talk about death, Tis just wished it wasn’t her own death the Tiefling was talking about. The dwarf shuddered. “Let’s go over the plan one last time”, she said, trying to distract herself, “I’ll drink this, my heart stops for…” “Three hours”, Myr helped out. “Right. Three hours. The guardian.. thingies will find me, carry me through the barrier, I’ll wake up after three hours, find Heidi and the treasure, and get the fuck out. Easy.” “Except you won’t be asleep, you’ll die. And if things go to shit you’ll stay dead”, Myr said matter-of-factly, and Naeris nodded in agreement. Thick as thieves these two, as always. Great. “Wonderful”, Tis said, “but like apart from that we’re settled, right? I die, I get up again, I steal some weapons and fight my way through. Any other issues I may be conveniently forgetting?” “Mostly we’re running out of time. The guards will be back soon, and we need to be gone by then. Either all of us, or at least everyone who’s alive”, Naeris said. Tis looked around into the faces of her companions, and then lingered on Gouda’s. He almost looked like he was about to cry, his lips quivering. “You don’t have to do this”, he said again. “But you do have to decide, and you have to decide now”, Mahandrir added, pointing out the obvious. Tis knew he was right. She looked Gouda right in the eyes, and with a weak smile, asked him: “Did you do your best?” Her childhood friend looked like someone had slapped him, and for a moment it got very quiet in the room they were all standing in. Tis just waited. It seemed like a lifetime, but eventually, Gouda straightened his back and nodded. Tis felt the corner of her mouth twitch upwards: “That’s all I needed to know.” And with that, she turned away, uncapped the vial, and downed its contents.