Chapter Text
"I'll be honest, that was worse than mass torsion."
"I'll have to take your word on that."
Oh, so we're just doing this?
She began removing her helmet.
"You don't have to do that, Cleric. I told you I'd drop it."
He meant it.
Oh.
She hesitated, then took it off. "No, it's fine."
It. Is. NOT.
"It'll make it easier to catch my breath."
He looked at her for a moment or two, then fished something out of his pouch. "Can you catch this, too? Something from the Garden." He tossed her an apple.
Do NOT fumble in front of your buddy.
Don't call him –
Rumble.
It was a good throw and an easy catch. She turned it over in her hands. He pulled out another for himself.
RUMBLE.
"Your stomach's thankful."
"Thank you, Snell." She took a bite. Snell looked at her again.
"What's up with the voice?"
"Obviously I can't use my normal one."
"So you could walk around with whatever voice and you chose that one?"
"I didn't choose it, that's just how it came out."
"Well I like your regular one, for what that's worth."
You're not the only one.
"Thanks."
Not that it matters.
It could.
She looked at him more closely.
Reach out.
To see his Strings. It was another refreshingly normal reading.
Not quite.
At first glance, perhaps, but compared to most you've seen, his are astonishingly steady.
Defiant.
She looked closer.
"What are you staring at?"
They remind us of his dragon's Strings.
Burning hopes.
But they don't hurt to look at.
An unbreakable destiny.
Almost unbreakable.
"Your Strings."
"My–" He ran a hand down his face. "You're…really weird, Cleric."
"I'm aware."
"So is this what you do for fun?"
Eat apples?
Yes.
Stare at people.
"Risk your life for no reason in the City Below?"
It wasn't NO reason.
As far as you can tell it was for exactly no reason that you risked your life in that deathtrap.
Although you DO love puzzles.
That's a reason.
A bad one.
"No, I've never had the chance before. They stopped delves before I was eligible to join."
And nobody in their right mind would ever have let YOU volunteer to join a party.
Forget about them letting you go solo.
"It's too bad. We're up to our asses in Esoteric bullshit down here now." He pointed at her. "I'll make you a deal. You help us out with some of it and I'll buy you a drink when this is all over."
Hell yes.
Absolutely NOT!
"I– Yeah?"
"Yeah? Wait, you're not allowed, huh." He tossed the core of his apple into the disarmed hallway. "How would they even know?"
Nice arm.
"Normally, they'd check with Detect Poison or Disease."
"No shit?" He paused. "Normally?"
"I'm a special case." She pointed to her face then threw her core towards his.
Not bad. He's still got you beat though.
"Bigger liability, tighter leash?"
"Yeah. I took an Oath."
"You had to pinky promise you wouldn't drink?"
"Capital-O Oath. On pain of death."
"Holy shit, Cleric. That seems harsh."
"Like you said. Bigger liability, tighter leash." She put her hand on her neck.
And you are one hell of a liability.
"But something broke."
You died.
"Whadaya mean?"
"My Oaths…"
Died.
"Broke? They aren't working anymore for some reason."
It's an unexpected loophole. You would think if death and resurrection could reset such restrictions there would be no point in having anybody take them in the first place.
"If they were I'd be dead–"
Again.
"For showing you my face."
"Damn. That is a hell of a leash. What else did they make you swear?"
They didn't MAKE you. You CHOSE this.
They severely limited your options.
But we had other options.
One other. A cage or a leash.
You caved.
We were so young.
"No face, no alcohol, and no sex." She held up a finger for each one.
"So no fun of any kind? I'm surprised they didn't oath away your voice as well."
There are plenty of other ways to have fun without abusing your own body.
Yes, like stern prayer.
Exactly.
Sar-ca-sm.
"So am I. It would make the spells pretty hard, though and–"
"They need their monster."
"Something like that. I don't know."
Hey! I have an idea! Let's change the subject!
"You curse more down here than up there."
Smooth as river sand.
Sand is coarse.
It sure is.
"Too many ears up there. Gotta be a good representative." He straightened his vest and smiled wryly.
He is not him up there. He is his whole people.
What an ego.
Deserved.
"You ever meet him, Cleric?"
"Who?"
"Urth."
Sinking.
"Ah, no. I was– He was gone before I was born."
Silent.
"First generation post-Urth, eh? Rough."
"Yeah it–" She laughed sadly. "It sucks, actually."
"Mm." He looked up at the ceiling. "I always hated Urth."
How DARE!
This should not surprise us.
"Oh?"
"I've been told my whole life to be grateful to him. To his city." He scratched the side of his nose. "How am I supposed to do that, Cleric? Be grateful to the same monster that destroyed my people root and stem because, for whatever reason, he couldn't finish the job?"
Generational, population-level survivors' guilt.
Hell, I can't even manage to be grateful to Urth for my life and I just got that back yesterday.
Urth did not let you live, he let you drown.
"Grateful..." She looked up at the ceiling now, but could feel him looking at her.
He doesn't know what to expect from you.
But it's nothing good.
It is a hard question.
It is not.
"I don't know what I would feel."
Urth teaches the importance of duty and responsibility. Of taking up the sword to protect those that need protecting. That is what he did with the goblins.
How do we decide who needs protection? And from whom?
But his most important teachings are knowing when to sheathe that sword. That is also what he did with the goblins.
Perhaps he could have done so before decimating their entire race.
"It would be a death of the soul."
It was us or them. It was…
A miscalculation.
Utterly unnecessary.
…us or them.
If that's what you need to tell yourself.
It is.
"A collective soul." Snell clicked his tongue as he turned the thought over in his mind.
Urth is our god. Our savior. But he can not be that to everybody. No god can. No person.
Rare insight from you.
It is easier not to think about.
We must think about it.
You've got that covered. That's not what I'm here for.
What are you here for?
"Every goblin asks themselves that question. To be a Crann or not to be a Crann."
Faith is your shield. And we desperately need one of those.
"We all got different answers." He shook out his legs and gave her another good hard look. "Y'know what, Cleric?"
"What?"
"Your hair is fucking wild."
It does not stay in that braid very well, no.
"Yeah, that's what happens when I stuff it into a helmet all day."
"Why do you do that? Any of this?" He gestured at her. "The helmet, the oaths, the god."
Why are you even a Cleric, he means.
"It's a secret." She slipped her helmet back on. "Maybe I'll tell you when you're older." He groaned and stood. She took another look at him from within the safety of the helmet.
He really is one of the good ones.
You're going to have to use better words than that.
He's just…good. Honest.
And not the neurotic kind of 'YOU CAN'T LIE' –
Hey!
That you have going on.
Open.
"Where to next?"
"No idea!"
Are you trying for honesty now, too? You could stand to tone it down a little.
He sighed. "Fantastic. Lead the way."