4.1 - Acquisition (Patreon)

4.1 - Acquisition

Gale

To say his sleep was troubled would be a genuine understatement.

Gale was… not accustomed to being wrong.

Oh he’d certainly made mistakes, the most colossal of which directly contributed to his present circumstances as both powerless, infected and incapable of doing anything about said infection. But mistakes were part of experimentation, of learning, of pushing boundaries and a wizard lived to do those things.. 

But being wrong was something different to a mistake. A mistake was an action done incorrectly. Some, miscalculation or sheer happenstance beyond one’s control. Being wrong meant that something you knew to be correct, the information you’d gathered, the idea in your mind, or even just your belief was fundamentally untrue.

Gale was a learned man, one of the best. And he took pride in his ability to deduce, research, study, analyze and infer perfect conclusion through pure ratiocination.

He’d done so here; followed the same process as he usually did and he’d been so certain of his conclusions, so sure about what he was seeing.

And he had been utterly and completely wrong.

Hebert’s enmity with the other three girls had been clear from the very beginning but they were all educated, and so he assumed it stemmed from that, jealousy from academics was certainly not an uncommon fact in Blackstaff academy. Perhaps at its most petty it would have been a recent practical joke gone wrong or romantic frustrations, a stolen boyfriend or some such, the simple misadventures and overblown conflicts of youth.

And he had been wrong.

The sordid tale had been laid bare and it wasn’t petty grievances. It was an active and malicious campaign of harassment and persecution. 

And why?

Because Miss Barnes said she needed to be strong.

Gale was no stranger to the pursuit of greater power but never had he approached anything even remotely close to what those girls had done to achieve his own ambitions regardless of the hardships he’d faced along his path.

A fruitless pursuit as well -to make matters even worse-. Miss Barnes seemed no stronger now after lifting the curse than she did while affected by it. Even with the rather loose definitions that one could use to label ‘Strength’ she was a far cry from any he’d seen.

In truth, the only thing that put his mind even remotely at ease was the cache of magical items the Hag hoarded in her hovel. Gale had quietly pilfered three for his needs, it should tide him over in the coming weeks. He hadn’t yet told the others and hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because the truth was, if they asked him to leave once he revealed the danger… he did not like his survival odds.

As the morning sun rose over the swamp Gale could hear several of the others already moving about; and with sleep no doubt being as frustrating a venture now as it was all throughout the night Gale peeled himself free of his bedroll and moved instead to make himself useful for the morning ritual.

It would be best to get an early start. Even though the Hag was dead, a Bog was still a bog. They would have a long, miserable march ahead of them today and most of tomorrow as well.

They would be having pork meat. No spices. Barely even a pinch of salt… again. It would be another tasteless meal, but beggars could not be choosers as the saying went. The meat and a bit of bread would make a decent enough meal. 

Perhaps around twenty minutes later, just as the pork meat was beginning to sizzle did Miss Hebert finally wake up. 

“Hey you!” He heard Karlach chirp smiling like sunshine caught in a bottle. “Finally up!

Hebert looked almost confused, as though someone had struck her over the head, she blinked slowly as if getting her bearings, and even from this distance he could see as the memory struck her, and her expression slammed shut, like the great portcullis of some fortress crashing down to bar anything from entering or leaving.

Durge walked over to the two of them. “Good, you’re awake-” The man crouched infront of Hebert, resting on his haunches. His voice lowered and Gale couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. 

He considered approaching, but dismissed the thought after a brief moment. There was no need to swarm the poor girl.

After a moment Durge, Karlach and Hebert approached. “We’re heading out.” The Dragonborn said. 

“To where exactly?” Shadowheart demanded with a raised eyebrow. 

“Just that way-” Durge gestures towards a slightly drier than average patch of dirt about, fifty or so meters away. “-we’re going to see if we can get a handle on the ability she demonstrated yesterday.”

“Have fun.” Astarion glibly replied.

“You could join us-” Karlach’s voice was teasing, but the fangs in that smirk did give it a malicious sort of air. “Give us a good practice dummy.”

Astarion laughed. “And risk ruining these perfect nails? I think not, darling.”

Karlach shrugged, “Meh- you’re boring. But suit yerself.”

“I think you’re more than enough fun for the both of us.” Astarion shot back, waving happily as the three walked off.

Gale watched from a distance, really most of them did, interested in what exactly Hebert had done yesterday.

Before he could see very much however a familiar voice called behind him. “Mr. Gale?”

He turned around and Miss Clements was there, book in hand. The girl was practically staring at his feet, wringing her hands over the leatherbound tome. “Umm… Would you be- that is- ummm.”

He knew what she wanted to ask, it was obvious enough but he was angry enough that he chose to make it difficult.

He saw her hands tighten over the book. “Are you still willing to help me learn?” She finally spoke.

“That depends.” He said “Will I be, assisting you in acquiring knowledge that will be used nefariously? For petty abuse? Because I will not be responsible for another Halaster Blackcloak.”

The girl winced, and the misery in her expression made him regret his words rather quickly. He’d never been good at staying angry.

But even so-

“I will warn you.” He continued, in the most grave tone he could muster. “I will continue assisting your education because regardless of your past actions, I have no interest in you dying because you could not defend yourself, but should I catch even the most minimal indication of that abhorrent behavior showing itself again then my assistance will be rescinded immediately, permanently and if necessary I will erase the knowledge utterly from your mind entirely.” Not that he had the necessary power to do that anymore but he knew people who did.

Madison looked at him, and with a look of determination on her features the connection between them suddenly lurched open.

It was a halting, rough thing, clearly conveying her inexperience commanding the wriggling intruder, but her truthfulness was clear, coming through in the connection as she said her next words. 

“It won't ever happen again.” She said. 

And the connection shut, as though her strength gave up against the tadpoles’. 

Gale nodded. “Very well… then let’s continue.”

—

They traveled once breakfast was done, and Durge exchanged theories and hypotheses regarding what powers Taylor had acquired, discussing them with Gale at first.

There were only two possibilities, either that it had something to do with her innate power, insect control which seemed… unlikely. Or that it had something to do with the encounter on the Nautiloid. 

At that point, they’d brought in Lae’zel. She was their foremost expert on Gith- although she’d taken remarkable offense to them stating such because, in her words ‘That prisoner was H’shar’lak! Not Gith!’

Apparently that was an important distinction.

But, indignant though she might have been regarding the verbal faux pa she did acknowledge that the skills might be useful, as already was demonstrated and so she did her best to recall what she knew about the Githzerai warriors allowing for something of a brain storming session on how best to help Hebert gain a grasp on these skills. 

As for the other children, well-

Sophia had kept to herself for most of the day, scouting ahead, or so she called it, Gale was just certain she wished for the privacy; a goal no doubt hampered by the fact that Wyll accompanied her. 

Madison had spent the day practicing her ‘mage hand’ under Gale’s instruction. He supposed the threat of death given the nature of their journey made for a remarkable motivator, because she was indeed picking up the basics quickly. Even discovered a fairly innovative use of mage hand. Using the hand to form something of a foothold to let her skip across narrow stretches of bog water. Of course the hand would pop like a soap bubble after a second of her full weight, but that second was all she really needed.

And Miss Barnes…

Well…

Truthfully, if he hadn’t gotten the story just yesterday he would have assumed that Miss Barnes had been the one suffering the campaign of harassment, not Hebert. The girl walked alone, and while Hess and even Madison occasionally tried to speak and initiate conversation it never quite lasted very long.

Like Madison, the girl was nigh useless in combat, unlike Madison, she did not seem to have any real prospects of fixing that. Gale wasn’t even entirely sure she had the capacity to do so. What brief glimpses he’d gotten of her mind between her waking up at the final confrontation with the Hag told him that something was deeply wrong in her psyche, some part of her that was jagged and breaking apart under the weight of everything happening. 

In spite of her past actions, Gale didn’t want her to die anymore than he wanted Madison to die, but he knew that as she was he would be no adequate teacher. He’d had a half dozen students each more talented, more driven and far less damaged than her before his great error. He’d lost patience with all of them. As it was, even with Madison he was only finding said patience due to the extreme nature of her circumstances, keeping in mind that in her realm Magic was utterly non-existent. 

With Barnes he wasn’t sure he could manage the same, even if he could begin to understand her fragmented psyche. 

Wyll might perhaps be a better fit, he had patience Gale lacked, but it seemed that he’d taken to watching Sophia. Wether that was to protect her or protect others from her Gale could not rightly say yet. 

Lae’zel and Astarion were laughably unfit, not unless they were actively trying to get the girl killed or otherwise harmed for either one’s amusement, or whatever other arbitrary desire tickled their fancy. And he’d caught some of Shadowheart’s nightly prayers, hidden though she tried to keep them. If she was a Sharan, it would do no good to put an already fragile young mind in reach of that cult.

Karlach’s hostility automatically precluded her.

Which left only two options. Himself or Durge.

Even if Durge didn’t already clearly favor Hebert, the Dragonborn, having fallen into the role of nominal leader of this merry band, had other responsibilities.

Something needed to be done, even if only to absolve himself of the guilt that would follow if he did nothing and one fine day Miss Barnes was found dead in a ditch somewhere, gutted by a Goblin blade. 

Gale searched for an answer all through their trek across the bog.

—

It was night by the time they left the swamp. They were filthy, exhausted, and irritated. Thanks to Miss Hebert the path had been illuminated by the blinking lights of fireflies, pulsing to let them see in the night and now, it was time to find an appropriate ground to set up camp. 

And then, Hess returned. 

“Head’s up,” the girl called, slipping out of the shadows. “Got some shit up ahead.”

“Where’s Wyll?” Durge demanded. 

“Keeping an eye on it. Looks like a scouting group roaming around” She answered. “Goblins, and some big boys, three of em. Boy-scout called em Ogres.”

Ogres. Not as formidable as a Hag but few things were. Three of them, with Goblins for backup, weren't exactly an opponent one wished to underestimate, not unless they wished to serve as said Ogre’s meal when things didn’t go their way.

“Lead the way.” Durge demanded. “Hebert, keep us appraised of when we might be within sight of them.”

The girl nodded, following quietly behind.

Stealth was not this groups forte. Between Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s armor, Durge’s size, Karlach being quite literally on fire and glowing like an open furnace, his admittedly limited experience and Madison and Emma being just as inexperienced the only three who made a valiant attempt at a clandestine approach were Hess, Astarion and Hebert. 

Even so, they made the attempt, sticking to the side of a hill on their approach to avoid line of sight, Gale could just about spy  Wyll hiding in the hollow of a tree just a few dozen meters away as they began to crest the hillside.

Beholding the scouting band with his own eyes, it was nothing beyond what he’d expected, thankfully. About two dozen Goblins and three Ogres. 

“What’s goin on?” Karlach whispered at the foot of the hill behind them with the other two girls.

“Nothing we didn’t expect.” Gale whispered back. 

Durge frowned. “Gale, can you detect something odd with that Ogre in the center?”

Gale blinked, looking closer.

“There’s… magic around him.” The Wizard answered, somewhat flabbergasted. An Ogre with magic? He tried to spread his senses out further. “I don’t sense a nearby caster.”

“Neither do I.” Durge answered before looking to Taylor. “Can you sense anyone else in hiding nearby?”

“No.” She whispered. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Ogres are famously dim-witted.” The Dragonborn answered. “They don’t have the capacity for spellcasting.”

“Maybe he’s got some magic on him perhaps?” Karlach ventured. “Maybe a fancy whacking stick?”

“We’ll find out.” Durge said before turning to look at Taylor. “You have them?”

The girl nodded. 

The fight, if it could even be called that, was laughably short.

A half dozen spiders biting into each and every Goblin all at once would do that.

As such, all they had to do was deal with the three ogres. 

They were massive Brutes, each as wide as a barn door and probably twice as tall, bugs leapt from the dank, wet gloom of the surrounding areas to swarm them, stinging and biting at their thick hides and the flesh around their eyes.

Gale saw them swiping, pawing at their faces with roars as they squished insects against their flesh with their club like hands and more swarmed into their mouths and throats, but they still were barely even phased, just chewing and swallowing the bugs by the mouthful.

Then, the third, the one with Magic around him, unmistakable cast the shield spell.

A translucent bubble coiled around the beast, granting him a reprieve from the swarm, just in time to look around and find them.

The anomalous Ogre reached, grabbing hold of the massive tree that served as his Club before hemoved to hurl it at them like a gigantic Javelin. 

“Oh bugger!” Gale cursed.

“Incende!” Wyll’s voice seemed to echo through the swamp, carried on the wind with the magic that suffused him as he sent a Fireball hurtling through the air to explode the Tree in the ogres hand, sending splinters of shrapnel and wood chips bursting everywhere.

The winds howled, thunder rumbling in Durge’s hands as Lae’zel roared and charged.

“Is the fight starting!?” Karlach called from her hiding place behind the hill, beginning to climb it in a mad scramble to catch up “Bloody hell warn a gal!”

Gale thought quickly, casting a blast of ice, sending it sailing past Lae’zel’s shoulder to impact the ground infront of her, the wet muddy soul sucking ground hardening with the cold.

Lae’zel slid and skid during her first steps but adjusted quickly, moving like she had been walking on ice all her life as she closed the distance.

The shield spell winked out and was immediately recast again, granting another six second reprieve the Ogre roaring with rage before he cast another spell, the unmistakable afterimages and distorted trick on the eyes that was the ‘Blurr’ spell as he charged Lae’zel.

For all that the Gith was taciturn and easily irritable, she was fast and she was good. She ducked and weaved under the Ogre’s heavy blows, all but dancing around him, her blade cutting through hide that was inches thick with clean, precise strikes as she did.

The shield spell dropped, and this time didn’t return. 

The other two Ogres, through the swarm were able to see the ensuing fight and rushed in, looking for an enemy they could hit.

Durge intercepted them.

The Dragonborn roared, a blast of sound and roaring thunder exploding out of his palms in a wave that seemed to make the ground itself ripple infront of him, throwing the two Ogre’s back.

Three shade wreathed arrows sunk into the anomalous Ogre, seemingly bypassing its thick hide and corded muscle completely, sinking up to the fletching into its arm, its flesh distorted around the projectiles as it roared in pain, the arm useless at its side now as Wyll joined Lae’zel in the fight.

Karlach leapt, skipped and hopped across the marsh, reassuring Durge, rather loudly that ‘I’m here, I’m here, no worries.’ even as Astarion took aim, shot, and then tripped on a wet, moss covered rock his ass sliding very wetly into the mud.

The elf certainly had an inventive and exotic vocabulary if nothing else.

Lightning danced and crackled with teeth popping snaps and cracks through the air blasting out of Durge’s hands to burn at one Ogre’s flesh. The second trying to get to his feet only for a blinding bolt of radiance to sail across the expanse like a shooting start out of Shadowheart’s hands to strike at its eyes all the while the bugs kept swarming, biting, stinging clawing, never letting up.

It dragged on for a handful more seconds.

But barring the utterly miraculous- the conclusion was foregone. 

By the time the last beast, the anomalous one, fell, trying to flee of all things, its body looked to be more wound than unblemished flesh. Covered in slashes from Lae’zel, hacking, half cauterized chops from Karlach’s axe, frostbite from himself, electric scars from Durge, burns from Wyll, arrows from Hess and Astarion and countless welts from innumerable stings- it had not died quickly or painlessly.

And yet…

“I can still sense magic from him.” He said. 

“It’s stone dead.” Shadowheart pointed out.

“It must’ve eaten something.” Durge determined kneeling at the monster’s side. “Something powerful enough to let something like it cast at least three spells.”

“Well unless you’re gonna wait for it to shit it out I don’t think that’s gonna help mate-” Karlach shook her head. “Not unless you’re-”

Durge drew a very long, very sharp looking knife.

… “Right.” Karlach nodded. “Should’ve guessed.”

“It can definitely be something useful and shouldn’t be left behind.”

“That’s nice now can one of you magical utility pieces be kind enough to cast that cleaning spell on me. Urgh. I can feel it sinking into my boots.” Astarion gagged. 

Wyll smiled ‘sweetly’ “Say please.”

If Astarion rolled his eyes any harder they would be staring at the back of his own skull. “Please, Wyll,  will you kindly lend me use of your cleaning services.”

A finger waggle and it was as though the dirt was never there.

“Make camp beneath that stony overhang.” Durge pointed somewhere behind him. “I’ll deal with this.”

“How do you know that’s even a safe spot?” Shadowheart contested. “This was right in the middle of a scouting route they might send another group and then we’ll be in trouble.”

“It’s safe.” Durge said.

“How do you know? No item is so useful its worth us dying for-”

“Withers is already waiting for us there.”

Gale stopped, standing straight and looking again, squinting through the darkness, curse humans not having decent vision in the dark.

But… yes. Yes. He could just spot him. Standing there under the rock outcropping, Withers was just… standing there. As though he’d always been there.

Well… Gale supposed that was one bit of usefulness he hadn’t expected from the undead. 

—

Hours later, when Durge returned, covered in blood and smelling of viscera, not looking bothered in the least even though he needed a shower, the Dragonborn set down a circlet, brimming with magic.

It had chips, as though it had been chewed on. The enchantment binding the magic too it was damaged but… stable.

“A circlet of intelligence.” Gale breathed as he looked at the item. “Many a young affluent mageling in Blackstaff held these. A way to get quite a leg up. They were banned of course, a Wizard shouldn’t rely on an enchantment that can be lost to cast his spells, but it didn’t stop many from trying.”

“Of no use to you I take it?” Durge’s question was rhetorical, but still Gale couldn’t help but scoff.

“Certainly not!” He dismissed. “I was lauded in the academia entirely on my own merits. I reckon I can likely outperform anyone using this device in either casting or scholarship.”

Durge shrugged. “It will still fetch a fine price regardless.”

Gale was about to comment on that when suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, an idea struck him.

His eyes darted over towards Miss Barnes, sitting beside Sophia and Madison by the fire, as quiet as ever.

“Actually.” Gale began slowly. “Give it here… I think I have a fitting purpose for it.”

Durge raised a questioning brow ridge.

(X)(X)(X)

There's going to be an Interlude next chapter and then after that we're finally going to get an Emma POV see what's going on in that head of hers :3