Chapter Text
In Trostenwald, six people met in a tavern in 835 PD. Well, six people and the cat that had been following their goblin for nearly six months. The group traveled together after a carnival, getting into and out of trouble, naming themselves after a joke from one of their members who happened to know a few words in Zemnian.
Mostly, he used the few he knew more after the cat, an orange tabby they learned, through much trial and error and a jokingly-suggested use of a Ouija board, liked being called Frumpkin, showed his appreciation for hearing the language.
The group as a whole became known as the Mighty Nein, gleefully leaving behind confused acquaintances who didn’t understand that there weren't actually nine of them.
But all told, the party spent about nine months together, picking up an additional cleric in the form of a lanky Wildmother-following firbolg, fighting off slavers, discovering plots to extend or worsen the war between the Empire and the Dynasty, setting sail, returning a Luxon beacon to the Bright Queen in Xhorhas, and defying some underwater monster hoping to be a god. It was when they returned to the Empire to fight off a cult and rescue their barbarian that they uncovered something truly unsettling.
The Martinet Ludinus Da’leth was the one to bring them to the Vergesson Sanatorium, under the premise of showing them the remaining beacon that the Empire had in their grasp. Beau, the party’s monk, had suspicions through the Cobalt Soul about the Cerberus Assembly, who were in charge of the research on the beacon, and shared her thoughts with the group before they went.
“Guys, we need to keep on our toes here,” she demanded after pulling the others away from the Martinet for a moment. Frumpkin was twining between their feet, tail puffed and hair along his spine raising. “These Assembly guys can’t be trusted, we already know they’ve been up to shady shit.”
“Doubt anyone here’ll trust ‘em, anyway,” Molly muttered back, “you’re the only Empire kid among us. The rest of us weren’t raised thinkin’ the Empire can do no wrong.”
“You weren’t raised at all , Molly.”
“From the dead counts, don’t it?”
“ Guys ,” Fjord cut in before the two could go further. “We’ll listen to what they have to say, see if it matches what we’ve learned so far. We know they have a beacon, that they’ve had it for a while, and we know that we returned the other one that they had. We stay focused, don’t buy into any bullshit—”
“And get the hell out of this asylum as fast as we can,” Nott grumbled, picking up Frumpkin to stroke in her own nervousness. “I don’t like it here, and neither does Frumpkin.”
“Nor do the plants.” Caduceus stood from where he had been checking in with the local fauna. “Something is going on here, something unnatural.”
The Nein shared a worried look, but a simple call from the Martinet got them moving again.
They found themselves traversing through the courtyard and into the far tower, escorts staying with them while the Martinet made his way downstairs. The group moved to one side, speaking quietly to avoid being overheard by their guards.
“This place is, like, super creepy,” Jester complained, rubbing her arms and shifting closer to Fjord. “Do we really need to stay here?”
“We need to see that beacon,” Beau huffed back. “You heard Ludinus, he’s claiming they only just got this one, which we know isn’t true.”
Caduceus was frowning still, ears twitching around and turning towards the windows and doors. He glanced briefly at the guards, then mumbled, “This is not a happy place.”
“What do you—?” Fjord began, but footsteps cut him off as the Martinet came back up the stairs, followed by an Archmage they quickly recognized as Trent Ikithon. The two Cerberus Assembly mages led the Nein down a spiral staircase and into an arcane laboratory, with a platinum-colored tripod holding the beacon in the middle, guarded by a female halfling and a tall, built human with dark hair. While the human’s arms were covered in gauntlets, the halfling’s were on display, showing a series of geometric tattoos.
They had a short conversation with Ikithon about the discovery of the beacon, reiterating the story that they recently uncovered it in a dig in Pride’s Call. There was an attempt to draw a mote of possibility from the beacon, but Nott was interrupted before she could finish the process.
As Ikithon was dismissing them, though, a messenger came running in, just inside the doorway to alert the Archmage that, “Sir, he’s broken through again.”
The human and halfling each grimaced at the information whereas Ikithon cursed in Zemnian before storming out, demanding, “Who left him alone this time?”
The Nein were unable to hear the response as the two left. “Uh, what just—?”
“Master Ikithon helps with some of the patients,” the human replied before Beau could even finish her question. He shifted slightly, almost as though uncomfortable to have given them that much information.
“I believe we have accomplished what we came here for, yes?” the Martinet reminded.
The Nein started towards the staircase again, Caduceus taking note of how Frumpkin was rapidly glancing around, prancing a bit and occasionally rumbling happily. As they came back up to the courtyard, though, Frumpkin let out a sharp yowl and darted towards the main manor.
“What was—?!” the Martinet exclaimed.
“Shit, sorry!” Beau yelped, heading towards the cat, but Molly Misty-Stepped over and picked Frumpkin up before the monk could take more than a couple steps.
“Mind of his own, this one,” Molly excused, going back over to the Nein. “Apologies, I’ll keep a better hold on him.”
“Right….” Ludinus did not look very convinced, but he merely sighed. “If you have any preparations to make, anything you need to do, the timeline is yours. I am not stringently pressing upon you the necessity of any due date for its arrival, but do know time is of the essence.”
“We–I feel like I would like a moment to talk amongst ourselves really quickly, but I don’t know if I feel comfortable having that conversation here,” Caduceus mentioned.
“Can you teleport us back to the city center?” Nott wondered, followed quickly by Molly and Jester also demanding of the Martinet.
“Or somewhere else, maybe?”
“Can you teleport anywhere? ”
Ludinus glanced between the two tieflings, very confused. “I… can teleport many places.”
“Because you did it like really fast and like it looked really cool when you did it and stuff. You must be really powerful.”
“…Do you have a particular request where to be taken?”
“No, I’m just saying, seeing other people try to do it, but they almost like bamfed us into trees or rocks or something . And you were just like, whoosh , and we’re in like the grass .”
The Martinet blinked warily at the blue tiefling, but still answered, “It’s easier the more familiar you are with the location.”
Molly chuckled. “I mean, y’know, it was really only one time that happened.”
“I think we still have business in Rexxentrum, no?” Nott interrupted before another argument or tangent could begin.
“Then we can return.”
There was another brief conversation about where to look to restock, and with a suggestion from Ludinus, the decision was made to teleport back outside of the Martinet’s tower in the Shimmer Ward. They said their goodbyes, then moved to a quiet, secluded alleyway outside of the Ward and began to discuss what had happened.
“Ikithon didn’t—I’ve never—I’ve never seen another person walk so daintily around the truth,” Caduceus mumbled.
“Even I couldn’t sniff the truth from the shit on him,” Molly added, still stroking a softly whining Frumpkin. He frowned down at the tabby. “And what got into you in there, friend?”
The cat mrowled sadly back at him, rubbing his head against Molly’s chin.
“Something must’ve caught his attention in the courtyard, right, Frumpkin?” Nott commented, reaching up to scritch Frumpkin’s side gently.
“The patient, though,” Beau huffed, “the one Ikithon ran off to check on? What was up with that? What could a wizard do to help someone in an asylum?”
“Yeah, they totally should’ve asked a cleric , like Caduceus or even me! ” Jester received a few incredulous looks from her friends, then quickly added, “I mean, I would’ve helped if they like needed me to, I’m totally getting better at healing people!”
“Of course you are, dear,” Molly consoled her, simpering a bit at her usual dislike for healing.
“They weren’t needing a cleric,” Caduceus redirected the discussion. “In the courtyard, I could hear something going on in the manor.”
“What?” Fjord demanded, then his brow furrowed and he added, “How’d you even manage to hear anything?”
“Magic!” Molly gleefully replied, looking ready to launch into another of his tall tales.
“There was some sort of fight going on,” Caduceus continued. “It sounded like the patient was trying to escape, and they were saying something about a spell.”
Frumpkin gave a keening meow, tail thrashing as he tried to both look around and wriggle free from Molly’s hold. The tiefling shifted his grip, hugging the tabby to one shoulder as he muttered, “Really, what’s gotten into you?”
Beau frowned, staring hard at the cat before grumbling, “I think he heard the fight, too. Something about it really upset him.”
“Oooooh, Frumpy!” Jester cried, snatching the cat to her own chest in a cuddle complete with belly rubs. “Poor thing! Were you worried for whoever was trying to get out?”
The cat let out another sad yowl.
“What sort of spell would they be using on an asylum resident that needs a wizard instead of a cleric?” Beau pondered, folding her arms over her chest with a huff.
“Nothing good,” Yasha mumbled.
“Especially one as powerful as Ikithon,” Molly added. He rubbed at his chin a moment, then sighed. “Much as I hate it, we might actually need to, ugh, research for this one.” His nose scrunched at the thought of needing to read.
Fjord nodded. “There must be spells wizards have that he was going to use, something high level given he didn’t send one of his students instead.”
“We can go to the Cobalt Soul Archives,” Beau offered. “They should have books on, what, wizard mind spells?”
The group shrugged, none of them being very well-versed in the arcane. After another moment of awkward shuffling, Fjord sighed and decided for them. “Alright, the Archives it is.”
VERNICHTEN
Blue eyes blinked open, a spark reflecting from inside that had been missing for the last thirteen months. It took a long moment for him to refocus, but a glance towards the window helped his mind recalibrate, bringing forth the exact time of day, as was normal for him.
Normal again.
He shifted to his feet, a harder task than expected with his arms wrapped in a rune-covered straightjacket. Luckily, he wasn’t fully strapped in, and a few minutes (six minutes and twenty-three seconds) was enough to wiggle an arm free. Thirty-seven rough scrapes of his fingers against the wall drew blood from the tips, which he used to start ruining the sigils drawn across the fabric he wore, hoping that enough could be destroyed to allow him to access his magic once more.
Evil man
A gasp escaped his raw throat, calling attention to the damage he must have done to it during nightmares over the past who-knew-how-long, as the voice of his familiar echoed through his head.
Frumpkin was near.
I’m here , he sang back, savoring the connection that he had missed—or, would’ve, if he’d been of his right mind before now.
Gemüt! Joy filled him from his familiar passing along emotions through their link. Come back to me!
I’m trying! he cried, rubbing a few more sigils into ruins before moving to the door, studying the lock with a sigh. If he had his spell book, he’d be able to cast Knock, but as it stood, he’d need to use a cantrip instead. His hands lit with flame, which he aimed at the door and released in a wild Fire Bolt that melted the lock enough for him to throw his shoulder into and roll out into the hallway.
Faster!
He stiffened, panic rushing through him even as he heard orderlies and clerics yelling about him being out of his “room”. What?! Did he—Are you—?
Freunde. They take care of me, but they are nicht dich.
Relief flooded him. Gut, ich bin froh. He shoved a hand into his matted hair, wincing at the tangles he pulled, then nodded to himself and darted down the hall, hopefully towards a door. Ich komme für dich.
Ra—We—tele—
Frumpkin?! His feet pounded faster against the floor, the patient ducking and dodging around any that got in his way, hands aflame once more to discourage any from approaching him.
They’re—to—entrum….
Warte, I’ll be there in—
“Bren, Bren, Bren.”
The voice froze him in place as the connection slid through his fingers, an elderly man approaching him with hands clasped behind his back. “Nein,” the patient breathed, heart pounding.
“Just had to cause trouble for yourself, didn’t you, Bren?” The man was still moving closer, hands coming forward to start curving through the air.
“ Nein! ” he yelled at the man, throwing another Bolt that the man just stepped around. The patient scrambled backwards, hitting a wall with enough force for his feet to slip out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. “ Bleib mir fern! Ich gehöre nicht hierher! ”
“Oh, Bren,” the man mollified, pulling a handful of green crystal from a pocket as he knelt beside the frantic patient, “this is exactly where you belong. Now, I think it’s time you calm down, and we both know the best thing for that.” The crystal was held between them, and the man’s breath blew across it towards the patient as he murmured, “ Schwachsannig. ”
And the spark in the younger’s eyes faded away again.
VERNICHTEN
Molly huffed an overly dramatic sigh as he flopped back from the table, the book he’d supposedly been reading thudding back down and fluttering a few pages off of where he’d held it. “This is ridiculous! We’ll never get the answer just looking at this shit!”
“Research takes time,” Beau grumbled, steadily skimming through her own tome. “We just gotta keep reading till we find something.”
“ Whyyyyy? ” Jester joined in with the complaints, having abandoned her reading ages ago and instead resting with her arms folded on the table and her chin digging into where her wrists crossed. “None of us know anything about this wizard stuff!”
“And it’s not like there’s anyone we can ask about it, either,” Nott added, pessimistic as always. “All the wizard-types around here are probably connected to the Cerberus Assembly.”
“Ohmygosh, do you think it’s some big conspiracy or something?!” The blue tiefling bolted upright, energized by the idea. “Like they’ve gotten rid of any books that could help! Or hoarded them away like dragons, to keep allllll the information to themselves! ” She gasped abruptly. “And if we keep looking, they’ll have their spies here snatch us away into a dungeon! ”
Yasha merely blinked at Jester's enthusiasm for the possibility and murmured, “I doubt a town with such a big school would prevent their students from learning, even if they are experimenting outside the Academy.”
Fjord groaned as he pulled away from yet another book, stretching his back from leaning over for so long. “I think we’re going to need to call this one. We don’t know what we’re looking for, so we’re not going to find it.”
Nott’s nose wrinkled at the prospect of failing as Frumpkin curled around her, mewling sadly. A green, bony hand reached down to run absently through the cat’s fur as she grumbled, “Shouldn’t there be someone around to help us look?”
“Yeah, Beau,” Molly cut in, leaning far enough over to shove his head between the monk and her novel, “you got another Dairon ‘round here t’help us out?”
The brunette shoved the purple tiefling out of the way, then blinked as his words sunk in. “Wait, that’s an idea….” She stood, stalking briskly away from the rest down the aisles, calling out for an Archivist to help them, reminding any who heard her that “Expositor Beau” was on “important, official business for Dairon.”
Molly chuckled under his breath, nudging Fjord in the ribs. “She’s really improving with th’whole public speaking thing, i’n’t she?”
“Just a bit,” Fjord mumbled back.
It was the matter of a few minutes before Beau was back with an older, female half-elf in tow, who gave her name as Archivist Bael’Solrath. She wore the robes they were accustomed to on their own monk, and used a quarterstaff as a cane. “Now,” she spoke with a soft, craggly voice, one accustomed to story-telling but much-used to the point of loss, “what is it you needed help finding?”
“We’re looking into spells that a wizard might use to help an asylum patient,” Beau quickly summed up for the elder. “Something clerics wouldn’t be able to use, and likely a higher level spell.”
The Archivist rubbed at her chin for a long moment, humming as she thought. “There are many spells accessible to wizards, but to help with the mental….” She wandered almost absently towards a shelf, unaware as Frumpkin hopped down from Nott’s lap and began winding about the woman’s legs, purring wildly. Bael’Solrath’s hand skimmed across the spines of the books, hovering just a millimeter from touching anything until she made a triumphant noise and snatched a single tome off the shelf, rifling through it. “Now, spells to affect the mind, used by wizards…. There’s Friends, of course, though you’re looking for stronger magic.... That puts Minor Illusion, Charm Person, Silent Image, and Sleep similarly out of play. Crown of Madness would likely cause just as many if not more problems than letting someone run free…. Suggestion could be used, but there are some clerics that know this one, possibly Hypnotic Pattern just to restrain someone…. Remove Curse is well known to clerics, and some can learn Dominate Person as well…. Getting to the stronger spells, Geas is used by both wizards and clerics, so that rules it out, Modify Memory is a possibility, Mental Prison, if they’re needing the person contained, or Sequester, while Antimagic Field would be accessible to clerics…. They could be using Sympathy to calm the patient, Power Word Stun to hold them still, or… if the patient were too dangerous, maybe even Psychic Scream to stun or Feeblemind to incapacitate. Worst case, Imprisonment.” She snapped the book closed and looked to the shocked party that were still trying to absorb the information she had given them. “Does that help you?”
There was a long moment of quiet before Fjord managed to croak out, “Y--Yes, uh, I believe it does, ma’am.”
The half-elf grinned at them. “Of course. Merely my job.” She went to replace the book on the shelf, but Beau interrupted her.
“Uh, sorry, any chance we could keep that for a bit to make notes?” she rushed out. “It’s just, you went through it too fast for us to write down….”
Bael’Solrath smirked, twenty years dripping off her form from the mischievous expression alone. “Dearie, yes, you may continue your research.” She handed the book over, the smirk never falling from her face.
Beau took the text gratefully, joining her friends in thanking the Archivist as she turned and hobbled away with her staff. With the woman out of earshot, the monk spun to her party, flipping open the book again as Frumpkin danced around her in glee. “Those spells she mentioned, what do they do? ”
As she rifled through the pages, Caduceus was the first to draw himself out of the information overload. “Modify Memory does exactly as it says, while two of the others can stun. And most can restrain someone.” He frowned. “But all of those are quite severe for a mental patient, wouldn’t you think?”
Nott scowled. “But you saw how angry Ikithon got, he probably was harsh towards whoever he was after.”
“It must’ve been a restraining spell,” Jester thought out loud, tapping a finger to her chin, “they definitely said he ‘broke through’ again.”
Beau finally found the pages the woman had pulled her information from, skimming with a finger trailing down the paper as she mumbled, “So Power Word Stun, Sequester, Mental Prison, Psychic Scream, Sympathy, Feeblemind, or Imprisonment….” She huffed, slamming a fist into the table as she sat again. “That’s still a lot of options….”
“Look into each of their effects,” Molly offered, leaning over one of Beau’s shoulders as Jester and Nott hovered by the other. “It’s likely something that would work for a while, if they’re keeping them under a spell for long periods of time.”
His comment received surprised stares from the others before he blew out a frustrated breath that shifted the hair hanging over his forehead. “Yes, I can have decent ideas occasionally, mark the date!”
Beau flipped about a bit, quickly declaring, “That strikes Psychic Scream, Mental Prison, Power Word Stun if you can shake it….”
Fjord frowned as he bent across the table to read, as well. “Wait, there’s no time limit on the stun with that one, or with Feeblemind. And Sympathy is ended once the caster’s out of sight.”
“Sequester would turn the patient invisible,” Caduceus pointed out from the end of the table. “That would make caring for them difficult, and Imprisonment would create a cell or restraint that wouldn’t be able to shift with the patient back to wherever they stay, if they’re really under the effects for long periods.”
“So the Stun or Feeblemind,” Beau reiterated for them, clapping the book closed between her palms. “They’d need to be weak for the Stun to work, but Feeblemind….”
“Feeblemind,” Jester echoed, leaning further onto Beau’s chair and worrying her lip as her tail swished behind her. “It sounds like a really mean spell to use, especially on someone who is a patient ….”
“He had the Beacon down there,” Caduceus rumbled in his quietest voice, “I don’t think it was a patient he was casting on.”
Beau and Fjord caught on first, their heads whipping around to gape at the cleric. “You think he’s experimenting on patients?” the monk hissed, not wanting to alert anyone else in the Archives to what they were discussing.
A pleased mrowl came from Frumpkin, and the group stared down at the cat as he pranced happily around them, giving a few extra chin rubs to Beau’s legs as he passed.
“...What if,” Molly mumbled, after a lengthy pause, “what if Frumpkin’s wizard isn’t dead like we thought?”
This time, Nott was the quickest on the uptake. “What if they’re trapped?"