Post by Celina Zabinski on Aug 14, 2022 0:07:55 GMT
Co-written with the marvellous Riah
As the sun is starting to set, Celina is in her room in Daring Heights by herself drinking. A thought suddenly comes to her, she hasn’t talked to the Patriot in a while. This is true. She disappeared and hasn’t talked to them in weeks. She feels a sudden urge to visit the Patriot now, it's time. She's avoided her long enough. Celina grabs her things, finishes off the end of her bottle of wine and makes her way over to Red House.
Most of the destruction that had happened due to the Githyanki attack happened in Castleside -- the side that had Fort Daring in it. Curiously enough, though many of the residences and other businesses around The Red House got singed or damaged, the crooked tavern itself somehow managed to avoid the worst of it.
But just because the outside was the same didn't mean the people inside were.
Leaves, the Tabaxi bartender Celina met the first time she came here all those months ago, is not behind the bar, and the small goblin girl with the shit eating grin, Cluq, is nowhere to be seen. Then she remembers. Both of their names were on the list.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
Celina didn't hear them come up behind her but when she whirls around, standing there, looking both disinterested and unimpressed is the Patriot. The two stand there looking each other over for a little bit, Celina a little unsteadily as the quick turn making her tilt slightly due to her drunkenness.
Without a word the Patriot walks past Celina, behind the bar and through the narrow door to the back.
Celina sighs to herself and follows the Patriot. Unsure how this chat is going to go. She knows she should have come sooner. As Celina walks past the bar, she feels the emptiness of the place now there’s so few people around. She makes her way through the door and shuts it after her.
Celina expected a private room but instead she is met with crooked, switch back stairs. She sees a flash of the Patriot's heel as she has already begun heading up, not waiting for Celina. The young tiefling quickly follows, realising the odd angles and tight space of the stairwell is meant to discourage quick moment for those unfamiliar with the space. Just when she thought she had lost sight and sound of where the Patriot went, she comes to a landing with the door slightly ajar.
As she stands there, looking at the gap between the partially open door and wondering if the Patriot kept going Celina hears their voice from within.
"If you're quite done dilly-dallying, Miss Zabinski..."
Celina follows the Patriot into the room. She realises it’s a room she’s never been in before. She starts to question the reason for the change of rooms. She’ll say nothing as she walks in and again shuts the room behind her. She’ll glance around this new room taking everything in. After a few moments she’ll ask curiously “Why are we here and not your usual place?”
The room, Celina realises, is a study, small and cozy. The Patriot has moved over to a section of the bookcase where she runs a gloved finger over the spines of several books before tapping the third from the left. A thick tome falls back and a whole two foot by three foot section opens up, revealing a cool box.
"Because I could do with a drink and the bar is lacking a bartender," comes her monotone reply.
Celina finally takes a good, long look at the Patriot and sees an exhaustion in the slope of she shoulders that wasn't there before. It's been hard on everyone since the invasion but perhaps for the familia, harder than Celina thought. Now that she thinks about it, she wasn't the only one who lost Sammy, the Patriot did as well – and Cluq and Leaves, and probably others she does not know about. Those of the familia that survived had to pick up the slack, and when you're short of hands, it means those that remain have double the work, at least.
Glasses clink, a shaker is shook, and a mix is poured into two stout crystal tumblers. There's a thunk as a sphere of ice is added to each drink and then the Patriot turns towards Celina, offering a glass.
"Here." Celina takes the drink. "To those we have loved, and those we have lost. No mourners, no funerals."
She clinks her glass against Celina's and downs the beverage in one fell swoop before Celina can even lift it to her lips.
Celina looks surprised for a brief second, she wasn’t expecting the Patriot to down the drink so quickly. Celina is impressed but doesn’t show it obviously. She holds out her own drink in her hand and nods to the Patriot. She follows suit and also downs her drink quickly. She has no clue what she’s drunk. She only briefly thinks afterwards she hopes it’s not poison. But part of her don’t care either way.
Celina stares down at her empty glass and twirls it in her hand for a few moments before looking towards the Patriot “So, just tell me one thing, what the fuck happened here during the battle? I thought here was supposed to be safe? But now there’s…. so many dead”
A humourless chuckle bubbles up from Patriot as they give Celina a discerning look before turning back to mix another cocktail, this time, stronger.
"What fool told you that Daring Heights was safer than the Fort, hmm? If that truly was the case, tell me, why did all the nobles and merchants leave at the whisper of 'invasion'?" She pauses in her mixing and looks over her shoulder at Celina. "Or was that your own wishful thinking, Miss Zabinski?"
Celina remains silent.
"Hmm," the Patriot intones, her mouth a thin, hard line as she turns back to her mixing. "What happened here is what happened at Fort Daring, is what happened to the firore popolare, and what happened to Samed Smithy. Dragon fire."
Celina listens to her rant and when she’s done she snorts “Ha, Daring Heights? No, not what I meant. I was referring to safe being here. This actual place…”, she points around the room indicating the Red House, then she looks back to the Patriot “with the familia. You always say the familia looks after one another”. She ends the last statement with a glare over to the Patriot. She feels some anger bubbling up. She grits her teeth “I already heard about the fire, but I am still fuzzy on some of the details. Where was he exactly when the dragon fire happened?”
The Patriot glares right back at Celina clearly not amused by her anger.
“He was doing what you so righteously pointed out we do — Mr Plumbstead was looking after one of the familia.” They look down at their drink to stare into its depths. With a sigh that seems to shake the wind in the room, The Patriot takes two heavy steps, then sits down in the chair behind the desk.
“Cluq was worried about… things at home. She was going to run off on her own but Mr Plumbstead insisted he accompany her, to watch her back. To make sure she got back safely. They didn’t.”
Celina pauses for a moment processing everything. After a few moments, she sighs sadly “Ugh, of course. That is very…”, she pauses realising she started that sentence acting like he’s still alive. She quickly corrects herself holding back the slight pain she feels “was very Sammy…”.
Celina looks away from the Patriot for a moment to gather herself. She still feels angry because she told Sammy to stay safe. But now she’s feeling sadder if that story the Patriot just said is true. Good and kind Sammy who couldn’t resist helping people, which caused his death. Why didn’t he just leave Cluq? Stupid Cluq… Cluq and her… ways. As she is thinking of Cluq, it dawns on Celina that she that didn’t know that goblin girl at all. They never got a chance to chat. She feels a small bit guilt over that but won’t admit it. Celina starts to think of something else to get her mind off the guilt and sadness. Celina focuses for a moment, she can’t help wondering if there’s more the Patriot isn’t telling her. Is she lying about the story? Is Celina missing something? Can she really trust them? Is the whole story true? So far, everything sounds normal...
She turns back to the Patriot “And… tell me again who found the bodies and confirmed it was theirs?”
They take a slow sip of their drink before giving an answer.
“I did.” The Patriot carefully puts the glass down on the desk. It doesn’t make a sound.
“They were on their way back and I was keeping an eye out for them, when I noticed a maimed dragon kept coming back this way, almost like it was looking for something. Or hiding. I’m not knowledgeable enough in dragon behaviour to say for sure.
“I saw them, sneaking along, coming back. I tried to signal to them, warn them but… The creature must have spotted them because before I could act it was raining fire everywhere.”
The Patriot had been looking Celina dead in the eye the entire time during the telling of this tale. Their voice was controlled, measured, the tone of a person who has thought long and hard about a sequence of events, analysed every possibility and still found the answer the same: failure.
Celina recognized this feeling well. It’s what was living inside her now.
Celina weighs up everything they've said. It sits heavy with her. She didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. Hearing the answers to her questions made it... too real. She gets a lump in her throat but she holds it back. She stands there in the silence for a few moments, processing everything. Not sure if he should leave the room or stay. The tension fills the air around her. Celina doesn't move. Eventually, she makes up her mind and takes a few steps. She walks over closer to the Patriot's desk and slouches against the wall.
She lets out a long sigh and grumbles sadly under her breath.
"Thank you for telling me the truth".
She takes a moment to breathe and then meets the Patriot's eyes sounding more normal. "So what happens now...? With this place? You're down a few good people"
“We continue on. We hire new staff. A tavern needs a barkeep.” The Patriot leans forward, their elbows resting on the desk, fingers steepling together. Their eyes are piercing, yet distant, watching Celina carefully. “But should that concern you anymore Miss Zabinski? Does it concern you anymore? Or are you no longer interested in helping your familia now that your husband is gone?”
Celina snaps right back at her “Well, I am here aren’t I?”.
Celina glares at the Patriot for a moment. Then she relaxes her composure and sighs “I mean, I could have ran or left town again after… Sammy’s death. Normally that’s what I do. But I didn’t… I stayed this time. For you and the familia, or at least what’s even left of it now. Despite everything that you’re not telling me about the familia, I stayed”. She shrugs her shoulder “I mean what have I got to lose at this stage, right? There is nothing else”. She pauses and adds “So, what can I do to help?”
The Patriot studies Celina for a long moment, not answering her questions. After what seems like too long, they pick up their drink again, swirl the glass, then down it in one go.
“You’ve got a point. You stayed. Despite what some people said, I believed you would come back.” There’s the smallest hint of a smile on their face, and a glint of pride in their eyes as they look at the tiefling. “Because people like us do not break. People like us do not forgive. People like us never, ever forget.”
They stand.
“The thing about the Dawnlands is that there’s always something happening. The familia tries to keep its fingers in as many jam pots as it can, but after last month’s losses some have come to realise we are not doing enough. You, Miss Zabinski, are going to be the start of our leg up in the world. You have connections that the familia needs — that I need.”
They’ve gone over to a section of the shelves and have pulled a ledger from the shelves bound in blood red leather. The Patriot comes back over to the desk, flips it open, their eyes trailing down the page to stop halfway down. Their grin is sharp and coloured with a promise of pain. Then they look up.
“We are going to go hunting, and we’re going to start with the drake that took our people from us.”
They drop the ledger on the desk and flip turn it around to face Celina. On the page is a messy yet distinct sketch of what is clearly a red dragon with a maimed front-left claw with no fingers on that hand and a large snarling maw.
Celina watches the Patriot closely as they explain. Celina is very intrigued. Being told off is what she was expecting or to be given another sort of punishment. But this feels like she’s being rewarded now. She smiles… Celina loves being at the centre stage and it feels like it for now.
As the Patriot goes to pull out the ledger and points to the drake, Celina moves closer to get a better look. She studies the picture intently. She can feel the anger bubbling under the surface. She’s never hated the face of something more. This dragon took her whole world and she has a face of her enemy now. “So… this is the dragon that killed… everyone? Leaves, Cluq and… Sammy”. She pauses and adds “But wait… I thought all the dragons were gone. You know where this one is?”
“I do not. But that’s where you come in Miss Zabinski. You can research in that Academy, or even speak to some of the other adventurers more freely than I. I… have my own network I will be reaching out to.”
“But it’s still alive…”. She paces a few steps around the small room, grumbling to herself. Memorising in her head, the face of the dragon. It’s maimed left claw. The snarling maw. She feels pure rage for this thing. She turns back to the Patriot and stares directly in their eyes showing the anger she has burning away.
“Oh, I’m in. Let’s get this fucking dragon”.
As the sun is starting to set, Celina is in her room in Daring Heights by herself drinking. A thought suddenly comes to her, she hasn’t talked to the Patriot in a while. This is true. She disappeared and hasn’t talked to them in weeks. She feels a sudden urge to visit the Patriot now, it's time. She's avoided her long enough. Celina grabs her things, finishes off the end of her bottle of wine and makes her way over to Red House.
Most of the destruction that had happened due to the Githyanki attack happened in Castleside -- the side that had Fort Daring in it. Curiously enough, though many of the residences and other businesses around The Red House got singed or damaged, the crooked tavern itself somehow managed to avoid the worst of it.
But just because the outside was the same didn't mean the people inside were.
Leaves, the Tabaxi bartender Celina met the first time she came here all those months ago, is not behind the bar, and the small goblin girl with the shit eating grin, Cluq, is nowhere to be seen. Then she remembers. Both of their names were on the list.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
Celina didn't hear them come up behind her but when she whirls around, standing there, looking both disinterested and unimpressed is the Patriot. The two stand there looking each other over for a little bit, Celina a little unsteadily as the quick turn making her tilt slightly due to her drunkenness.
Without a word the Patriot walks past Celina, behind the bar and through the narrow door to the back.
Celina sighs to herself and follows the Patriot. Unsure how this chat is going to go. She knows she should have come sooner. As Celina walks past the bar, she feels the emptiness of the place now there’s so few people around. She makes her way through the door and shuts it after her.
Celina expected a private room but instead she is met with crooked, switch back stairs. She sees a flash of the Patriot's heel as she has already begun heading up, not waiting for Celina. The young tiefling quickly follows, realising the odd angles and tight space of the stairwell is meant to discourage quick moment for those unfamiliar with the space. Just when she thought she had lost sight and sound of where the Patriot went, she comes to a landing with the door slightly ajar.
As she stands there, looking at the gap between the partially open door and wondering if the Patriot kept going Celina hears their voice from within.
"If you're quite done dilly-dallying, Miss Zabinski..."
Celina follows the Patriot into the room. She realises it’s a room she’s never been in before. She starts to question the reason for the change of rooms. She’ll say nothing as she walks in and again shuts the room behind her. She’ll glance around this new room taking everything in. After a few moments she’ll ask curiously “Why are we here and not your usual place?”
The room, Celina realises, is a study, small and cozy. The Patriot has moved over to a section of the bookcase where she runs a gloved finger over the spines of several books before tapping the third from the left. A thick tome falls back and a whole two foot by three foot section opens up, revealing a cool box.
"Because I could do with a drink and the bar is lacking a bartender," comes her monotone reply.
Celina finally takes a good, long look at the Patriot and sees an exhaustion in the slope of she shoulders that wasn't there before. It's been hard on everyone since the invasion but perhaps for the familia, harder than Celina thought. Now that she thinks about it, she wasn't the only one who lost Sammy, the Patriot did as well – and Cluq and Leaves, and probably others she does not know about. Those of the familia that survived had to pick up the slack, and when you're short of hands, it means those that remain have double the work, at least.
Glasses clink, a shaker is shook, and a mix is poured into two stout crystal tumblers. There's a thunk as a sphere of ice is added to each drink and then the Patriot turns towards Celina, offering a glass.
"Here." Celina takes the drink. "To those we have loved, and those we have lost. No mourners, no funerals."
She clinks her glass against Celina's and downs the beverage in one fell swoop before Celina can even lift it to her lips.
Celina looks surprised for a brief second, she wasn’t expecting the Patriot to down the drink so quickly. Celina is impressed but doesn’t show it obviously. She holds out her own drink in her hand and nods to the Patriot. She follows suit and also downs her drink quickly. She has no clue what she’s drunk. She only briefly thinks afterwards she hopes it’s not poison. But part of her don’t care either way.
Celina stares down at her empty glass and twirls it in her hand for a few moments before looking towards the Patriot “So, just tell me one thing, what the fuck happened here during the battle? I thought here was supposed to be safe? But now there’s…. so many dead”
A humourless chuckle bubbles up from Patriot as they give Celina a discerning look before turning back to mix another cocktail, this time, stronger.
"What fool told you that Daring Heights was safer than the Fort, hmm? If that truly was the case, tell me, why did all the nobles and merchants leave at the whisper of 'invasion'?" She pauses in her mixing and looks over her shoulder at Celina. "Or was that your own wishful thinking, Miss Zabinski?"
Celina remains silent.
"Hmm," the Patriot intones, her mouth a thin, hard line as she turns back to her mixing. "What happened here is what happened at Fort Daring, is what happened to the firore popolare, and what happened to Samed Smithy. Dragon fire."
Celina listens to her rant and when she’s done she snorts “Ha, Daring Heights? No, not what I meant. I was referring to safe being here. This actual place…”, she points around the room indicating the Red House, then she looks back to the Patriot “with the familia. You always say the familia looks after one another”. She ends the last statement with a glare over to the Patriot. She feels some anger bubbling up. She grits her teeth “I already heard about the fire, but I am still fuzzy on some of the details. Where was he exactly when the dragon fire happened?”
The Patriot glares right back at Celina clearly not amused by her anger.
“He was doing what you so righteously pointed out we do — Mr Plumbstead was looking after one of the familia.” They look down at their drink to stare into its depths. With a sigh that seems to shake the wind in the room, The Patriot takes two heavy steps, then sits down in the chair behind the desk.
“Cluq was worried about… things at home. She was going to run off on her own but Mr Plumbstead insisted he accompany her, to watch her back. To make sure she got back safely. They didn’t.”
Celina pauses for a moment processing everything. After a few moments, she sighs sadly “Ugh, of course. That is very…”, she pauses realising she started that sentence acting like he’s still alive. She quickly corrects herself holding back the slight pain she feels “was very Sammy…”.
Celina looks away from the Patriot for a moment to gather herself. She still feels angry because she told Sammy to stay safe. But now she’s feeling sadder if that story the Patriot just said is true. Good and kind Sammy who couldn’t resist helping people, which caused his death. Why didn’t he just leave Cluq? Stupid Cluq… Cluq and her… ways. As she is thinking of Cluq, it dawns on Celina that she that didn’t know that goblin girl at all. They never got a chance to chat. She feels a small bit guilt over that but won’t admit it. Celina starts to think of something else to get her mind off the guilt and sadness. Celina focuses for a moment, she can’t help wondering if there’s more the Patriot isn’t telling her. Is she lying about the story? Is Celina missing something? Can she really trust them? Is the whole story true? So far, everything sounds normal...
She turns back to the Patriot “And… tell me again who found the bodies and confirmed it was theirs?”
They take a slow sip of their drink before giving an answer.
“I did.” The Patriot carefully puts the glass down on the desk. It doesn’t make a sound.
“They were on their way back and I was keeping an eye out for them, when I noticed a maimed dragon kept coming back this way, almost like it was looking for something. Or hiding. I’m not knowledgeable enough in dragon behaviour to say for sure.
“I saw them, sneaking along, coming back. I tried to signal to them, warn them but… The creature must have spotted them because before I could act it was raining fire everywhere.”
The Patriot had been looking Celina dead in the eye the entire time during the telling of this tale. Their voice was controlled, measured, the tone of a person who has thought long and hard about a sequence of events, analysed every possibility and still found the answer the same: failure.
Celina recognized this feeling well. It’s what was living inside her now.
Celina weighs up everything they've said. It sits heavy with her. She didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. Hearing the answers to her questions made it... too real. She gets a lump in her throat but she holds it back. She stands there in the silence for a few moments, processing everything. Not sure if he should leave the room or stay. The tension fills the air around her. Celina doesn't move. Eventually, she makes up her mind and takes a few steps. She walks over closer to the Patriot's desk and slouches against the wall.
She lets out a long sigh and grumbles sadly under her breath.
"Thank you for telling me the truth".
She takes a moment to breathe and then meets the Patriot's eyes sounding more normal. "So what happens now...? With this place? You're down a few good people"
“We continue on. We hire new staff. A tavern needs a barkeep.” The Patriot leans forward, their elbows resting on the desk, fingers steepling together. Their eyes are piercing, yet distant, watching Celina carefully. “But should that concern you anymore Miss Zabinski? Does it concern you anymore? Or are you no longer interested in helping your familia now that your husband is gone?”
Celina snaps right back at her “Well, I am here aren’t I?”.
Celina glares at the Patriot for a moment. Then she relaxes her composure and sighs “I mean, I could have ran or left town again after… Sammy’s death. Normally that’s what I do. But I didn’t… I stayed this time. For you and the familia, or at least what’s even left of it now. Despite everything that you’re not telling me about the familia, I stayed”. She shrugs her shoulder “I mean what have I got to lose at this stage, right? There is nothing else”. She pauses and adds “So, what can I do to help?”
The Patriot studies Celina for a long moment, not answering her questions. After what seems like too long, they pick up their drink again, swirl the glass, then down it in one go.
“You’ve got a point. You stayed. Despite what some people said, I believed you would come back.” There’s the smallest hint of a smile on their face, and a glint of pride in their eyes as they look at the tiefling. “Because people like us do not break. People like us do not forgive. People like us never, ever forget.”
They stand.
“The thing about the Dawnlands is that there’s always something happening. The familia tries to keep its fingers in as many jam pots as it can, but after last month’s losses some have come to realise we are not doing enough. You, Miss Zabinski, are going to be the start of our leg up in the world. You have connections that the familia needs — that I need.”
They’ve gone over to a section of the shelves and have pulled a ledger from the shelves bound in blood red leather. The Patriot comes back over to the desk, flips it open, their eyes trailing down the page to stop halfway down. Their grin is sharp and coloured with a promise of pain. Then they look up.
“We are going to go hunting, and we’re going to start with the drake that took our people from us.”
They drop the ledger on the desk and flip turn it around to face Celina. On the page is a messy yet distinct sketch of what is clearly a red dragon with a maimed front-left claw with no fingers on that hand and a large snarling maw.
Celina watches the Patriot closely as they explain. Celina is very intrigued. Being told off is what she was expecting or to be given another sort of punishment. But this feels like she’s being rewarded now. She smiles… Celina loves being at the centre stage and it feels like it for now.
As the Patriot goes to pull out the ledger and points to the drake, Celina moves closer to get a better look. She studies the picture intently. She can feel the anger bubbling under the surface. She’s never hated the face of something more. This dragon took her whole world and she has a face of her enemy now. “So… this is the dragon that killed… everyone? Leaves, Cluq and… Sammy”. She pauses and adds “But wait… I thought all the dragons were gone. You know where this one is?”
“I do not. But that’s where you come in Miss Zabinski. You can research in that Academy, or even speak to some of the other adventurers more freely than I. I… have my own network I will be reaching out to.”
“But it’s still alive…”. She paces a few steps around the small room, grumbling to herself. Memorising in her head, the face of the dragon. It’s maimed left claw. The snarling maw. She feels pure rage for this thing. She turns back to the Patriot and stares directly in their eyes showing the anger she has burning away.
“Oh, I’m in. Let’s get this fucking dragon”.