You Asked For It (Coda II - Resurrection Boogaloo)

In collaboration with Varis/G'Lorth/Sundilar Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed Jamie J  BB  Pieni and Ghesh 🔥🖤

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The sun is just past its zenith when the party arrives back in Daring Heights. Merla wrapped them in song and reassurance and Plane Shifted the entire group straight from Ulorian’s Delta to Silver Street.

They take a moment to orient themselves; Taff, looking weary and stony-faced, takes a deep breath of the air of home; and Pieni, pacing and chittering in anxious frustration, with BB’s usual smile dulled to a uneasy frown and Merla, demeanor calm but her eyes a tempest of emotions as she dismounts Astra. Ghesh is all but dead on his feet but refusing to take his hand back from where it’s steadying Baine’s lifeless form on Frankie’s back.

It’s a slow but determined progression that makes its way into the Order compound. The usual noise and bustle of soldiers in the training yard slowly grinds to a halt as the massive hound comes to a stop in their midst. The recruits stare in disbelief at their fallen Master at Arms and for a long moment no one dares draw breath until Frankie lets out a single, pained, booming bark.

With a start they all spring into activity. Zunus, the Kul Gorani commander, starts giving orders.

“Shiv, get the boss. Sab, tell Grits. Kuori, get him down.”

A human woman darts off towards the smithy, a tiefling towards the mess. A hulking goliath nods and steps forward but before he can lay his hands on Baine’s body, Frankie whips his head around at him, snarling. Kuori takes a quick step back, hands raised in the air.

“Let him be,” Merla says softly, though whether to Frankie or Kuori it’s unclear.

Zunus gives the party a seasoned once-over, lingering on Ghesh and the frantic look in his eyes. He reaches out slowly, putting one firm hand on dragonborn’s shoulder and the other on Frankie’s side.

“You did it. You got him home. The boss will sort him. It’s alright.”

Across the yard the door to the smithy opens and at the sight of the Grandmaster, Frankie begins howling.

Varis takes in the scene in front of him, face swiftly transitioning from concerned curiosity to grim determination. Pulling the thick leather gloves from his hands, he crosses the yard to where the enormous hound stands draped in the corpse of his master. Nodding to Baine’s companions, he lays a hand on Frankie’s huge head.

“Good boy. Can I take him now?”

The howling quiets to a pleading whine and Frankie leans into the caress briefly before carefully laying down on the ground, head on his paws. With uncommon tenderness, Varis bends to lift the half-orc, grunting with the effort. Straightening, he glances around for help, and, seeing Ghesh swaying with exhaustion, his eyes settle instead on the broad figure leaning against the stable wall.

“Ser?”

Silently, Lytton slides forward, wrapping Baine’s lifeless arm around his neck and between them they carry the Master at Arms into Varis’ chambers. Behind them trail their friends, and the great, despondent figure of Frankie.

“Merla, would you clear the table please?”

Light feet and quick hands deftly clear the table. There’s one final, small wave of Merla’s fingers and, as Varis and Lytton lay Baine’s body down, they get the faint scent of evening primrose. The Grandmaster sets to work unfastening buckles, pale fingers working with practiced deftness. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter as he works, involving each member of the group in fetching hot towels, stacking armour, laying a fire in the hearth. BB wastes no time in using the flames to brew some calming tea as Ghesh takes it upon himself to carefully sort Baine’s weapons by a wall, finding comfort in the familiarity of his friends' trusted maul and shield.

Frankie is charged with standing guard over his master’s head, a task he takes to with solemn loyalty, though his tail nearly brushes the back wall. Pieni comes over to the large dog, a small almiraj in their winged arms. The two share a brief look, and then the blue aarakocra climbs onto his back, settling in.

As Varis strips Baine down to his smallclothes, Lytton turns slightly away.

“Why do you need to undress him like that? It’s no part of any spell I ever learned.”

The pale half elf glances up, oblivious to the slight blush colouring the knight’s face. He gives the other man a quiet smile.

“A friend once called me back in full harness. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. More comfortable this way.”

Finally the preparations are made, and Varis takes a small diamond from the pouch at his belt. Cupping it in his palm, he presses one hand down onto Baine’s chest, the other to the Crimson fist insignia on his own tunic.

“Soeh arael tan.”*


On a dirt road, a man turns his gaze from a wooden cottage to the green eyes of a friend, further up the path. They will wait for him, no matter how long it takes.


There’s a crack like thawing river ice and the diamond seems to melt, liquid light seeping into Baine’s chest and running up his face into his mouth and nostrils. Silence reigns, everyone in the room holding their breath, and then, with an impatient whine, Frankie lifts a giant paw and thumps the fallen soldier right in the chest.

There’s a sudden, shaky breath from the half-orc which quickly turns into a gurgling cough, and Baine rolls over on his side, expelling the last of the river from his lungs. When he lifts his head, his eyes are darting around the room, confused, and his hands reach for a weapon.

“Fuck. What- Fuck.”

Finally recognizing the faces around him - and the large furry one looming above - he sinks back down onto the table, clearly too weak to even sit. He stops reaching for his maul and instead reaches up to sink a hand into Frankie’s fur, trying to calm both himself and his hound.

“I’m okay. It’s okay, mate, I’m back. I’m back.”

He repeats the words until they sink in and eventually he gets his breathing under control. He scrubs a scarred hand over his face before clearing his throat and raggedly addressing the room.

“Please tell me we won.”

Taffeta laughs a tired, happy, fond laugh. “Welcome back, you,” she says.

“Yes,” comes BB’s voice, cracking a bit as she answers Baine’s question. “Yes we won. Ulorian conceded in the end,” she continues as Taffeta walks over to the table with a cup of BB’s tea and a mug of something stronger for the patient to choose from.

Ghesh puts a hand under Baine’s shoulder and gently helps him sit back up, “And he finished off that fanboy of his for us in the end. Jax, was it?”

There’s another flicker of confusion in Baine’s eyes and it’s clear he can’t make sense of what Ghesh is saying, either for lack of knowing who Jax was or simply because he doesn’t remember much of the duel at all. Even sitting up he’s leaning heavily on Ghesh, blinking slowly.

From his perch on Frankie’s back, Pieni chimes in.

"Baine! Can I make you some food? Or a healing spell? Or a bunny? Or-"

The half-orc gives him a tired smile but shakes his head.

“I feel.. Like I might heave. To be perfectly honest. I think you’d better lay me back down, mate.”

Ghesh quickly lowers him back down on the table and Taffeta quietly places a bucket next to the untouched cups of tea and ale. Grey eyes eventually find green and Baine raises an eyebrow at his commander.

“Guess we’re even now. This sucks by the way, I feel like absolute shite. Is this revenge?”

He’s trying for his usual bravado and shit-eating grin but can’t quite keep it up. The hand still petting Frankie trembles ever so slightly. Varis gives a quiet smile, ignoring the other man’s banter.

“I suggest you eat something and then get some rest. Sleep in here tonight - I’ll bunk with the squeaks. Ser Lytton-”

He turns to take in the youthful knight.

“Someone will need to sit with him for a while. If your duties with the Knights of the Dawn permit, I’m sure Ser Baine’s companions are eager to get some rest themselves.”

Lytton opens his mouth to respond, then closes it with an audible click and simply nods.

Ser Lytton feels a slight nudge on his lower back. He looks down and sees a small smile on Merla’s face. She gives him a wink, imperial topaz in her circlet swirling with warm light, and then nods towards Baine where BB is quietly adding fresh flowers to his drowned flower crown.

“Get some rest, Baine. I’ll have a present ready for you when you’re on your feet again,” Merla says with a warm smile to the big man. She gives one last look to Ser Lytton before taking BB’s hand and saying, “Come BB, let’s go have some tea. Maybe some dessert? There’s a great place I should take you to some time, filled with flowers…”

BB’s attention suddenly diverts down to Merla at the mention of her favourite thing, her hand tightening in the smaller woman’s grasp.

“Tea and flowers? Certainly count me intrigued Merla,” she says as she follows her friend outside, giving Baine a gentle smile as she goes. Pieni joins them, hoping to get in on the flowers and tea business. Taffeta joins them, only pausing on the way to reach up and squeeze Baine’s mighty hand before she leaves.

Baine and Frankie both look at their friends packing up and leaving with mild confusion. Merla calls out for the large hound to follow and for a moment he’s stood with his head tilted sideways, not moving, until Astra sticks her head in the door and looks at him pointedly, horn glowing slightly, and suddenly his tail starts wagging furiously. Baine narrows his eyes.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?”

Frankie seemingly doesn’t give any kind of useful reply, but happily trots off after the rest of the group. The door clicks shut behind them, and they are stood in the training yard once more. The soldiers of the Order form a ragged crowd around the door.

“Boss?”

Kuori’s massive, tattooed face is lined with worry. Varis takes in the gaggle of warriors, their expressions a universal theme of fear and concern. He gives a small smile.

“Your Master at Arms sends a message - if you think he’d let a little thing like death stand in the way of whipping your sorry hides into shape, you’ve got another thing coming.”

There are smiles and low chuckles, the relief palpable. Zunus seizes the moment, cajoling and bantering, offering outrageous threats as to what Ser Baine might do to anyone who slacked off. Before long the yard is bustling once more.



*Breathe, heart brother.