“Hey, Brawny. Can I get a mulled wine to go?” Magra leaned against the wooden bar while Aeldevan waited for her by the front door. Skamos and Feyre took up a couple seats at the bar, the gnome barely able to cross her arms on the counter. Ilyana found a table in the corner furthest from the cacophony of the other patrons, and Wolfgang curled up under the table by her feet.

Magra tossed the owner a coin before taking her warm mug and heading back outside with Aeldevan. In the moonlight, the steam from her drink slowly drifted up into the frigid night sky. She walked the rest of the way to Lirien's with her druid teammate without a word, the two enjoying each other’s silent company in the still night. 

The only thing that was bound to disturb the peace was a door in Magra’s way, but Aeldevan intervened before she could get too heated. “Magra, remember, Lirien is providing us a service. We can’t just break down her door. Leave that for the dungeons and people we don’t like.” He carefully opened the door while his friend restrained herself by squeezing her mug, almost crushing the ceramic with her force. 

“Lirien?” Magra called out. “I’m here to pick up my cloak.” 

“Perfect timing! I just finished it up.” The little seamstress shuffled out of the backroom and with a flourish, revealed the half-orc's lustrous new cloak. 

Magra quickly shoved her mug into Aeldevan’s hands, the liquid still hot and splashing over his hands. She couldn't see his pained expression as she was already donning her new apparel. 

“A spin! Give us a spin!” Lirien giddily clapped her hands together, thrilled to see her customer so excited. 

Magra obliged, fitting her large hands into the spacious inner pockets, and waved the cloak in theatrical motions. “This is exactly what I wanted! The length is perfect, and it’s so warm.” Magra wrapped herself in it and closed her eyes, a comfortable smile settling on her face that rested on the fine fur. Her eyes snapped open. “The pearl! It looks perfect.” She gave it a lick, and nodded agreeably at Lirien, the taste just how she remembered it. 

The halfling chuckled at Magra’s unorthodox yet endearing way of tracking her items. As she grabbed her own cloak off the hook behind her empty counter, she noticed Aeldevan elbow Magra gently.  

The half-orc cleared her throat. “I did forget to ask you something earlier.” She fumbled in her bag of holding while the halfling waited patiently. “Would you be able to make me a couple bracelets with these?” She held in her hand her remaining zircon stones along with various marbles and pearls. 

Lirien inspected them closely before responding, “I’d love to help, but you’d have better luck talking with Luna Stardust.” 

Before Lirien could continue, Magra whipped her head to Aeldevan. “Let’s go! Maybe she’s still open.” She sprinted out the door, shouting a thank you to Lirien over her shoulder. 

Aeldevan shook his head with a smile, turning to Lirien. “Thank you for all your help. Have a nice night.” He gave a small bow and left to catch up to his friend who he could see whirling her cloak in the snow like wings.

◊◊◊

Luna was opening her door to leave when Magra almost smashed into her, the snow-streaked stones not helping her stop. Luckily, the shopkeeper quickly sidestepped, so the barbarian ended up stumbling into the shop, catching herself on the counter. 

“Sorry about that!" Aeldevan shouted, the chilled air stinging on inhale. "Good thing you opened your door.” He paused between words, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yes, me too.” Luna didn’t seem amused at her door having been almost obliterated. “What brings you two back here at this hour?” 

Magra approached from the dim interior, the fire in the hearth at a low crackle. “Lirien said I should ask you about making a couple bracelets for me.” She produced the items more quickly, having had put them in her new cloak’s readily accessible pockets. 

Luna looked at her with slight apprehensiveness, “I would, but I was actually just closing up before going to get some food.” 

Magra, usually slow with thoughts, surprisingly came up with a good idea on the spot. “Why don’t we go grab you some food, and meanwhile you can work on the bracelets. I’ll throw in eighty gold pieces and a beer if you can get it done tonight.” 

Luna was surprised not only at the good idea but more from the offer Magra extended. Usually she would only charge twenty for a rush job, but she didn’t need to tell them that. “Deal, as long as you’re quick with the food and pay upfront.” 

“Here’s half.” The half-orc said without room for argument. “We’ll be right back with your food and drink.” 

As they headed back towards the tavern, they saw Luna turn her lights back on and draw the curtains closed to begin her work.

◊◊◊

Laughter and shouting in the Rumbling Mug could easily be heard from the quiet street. The noise intensified as Aeldevan opened the door. He and Magra made their way to the bar where their friends were sitting with half empty plates of food. 

“Nice cape!” Skamos commented when he noticed Magra walking over. 

“What took you so long?” Feyre asked, a drumstick between her teeth. 

Magra sighed as she sat down to give her feet a rest. “Well, after we picked up this beauty,” she twirled an edge of her dark cape, “we ran over to see Luna cuz I wanted some bracelets.” 

Feyre chuckled. “You don’t seem like the type to wear jewelry.” 

Magra huffed, raising her chin and rolling her shoulders back. “Maybe I’m trying something different.” 

“Brawny!” Aeldevan called over the barkeep, interrupting what could have become an argument between the rogue and barbarian. “Can I have whatever she had to go?” He pointed a thumb at Feyre’s plate, now only covered in crumbs. “And a round of drinks for my friends, please.” 

Skamos smiled up at Aeldevan who had his arm around him. He blushed when the half-elf gave him a quick peck on the forehead between his horns. 

The rest of the group whooped in thanks as one of the regulars walked in. 

Magra spun slowly on her chair to face him. "Hey, Trent.” She mockingly waved with her bandaged hand. “Wanna go another round? I have a second hand.” She smirked as she leaned back to put her elbows on the counter. 

“You’re on,” Trent sneered, his nasally voice making him far less threatening than he tried to appear. “I’ll drink you under the table.” He slammed ten gold pieces on the bar top just as Brawny was bringing out the food Aeldevan had ordered. 

 “Well, I guess this is my cue to leave.” The druid picked up the parcel and turned to Magra, “I’ll go bring this to Luna. Make sure you eat something first before any drinking games.” He narrowed his eyes at his friend, who in turn rolled hers.

As Aeldevan walked out the door, Magra spun back around to disregard his warning and grab the drink of the first round: Owlbear Ale. When the second round came out, Treant Ale, Magra proceeded to point at Trent and mock his name, “Tree ant Trent!” As he glared at her, Skamos faceplanted on the bar, half his drink gone. 

The third round offered a poor quality Skullbuster ale. Magra took inspiration from this as well. “Hey Trent, I’m gonna bust your skull!”  

Trent stood up quickly, her words getting to him, but he sat back down when he remembered his hand was still injured. He quickly gulped down his glass and slammed it on the counter. 

As Magra hiccupped through her glass, she saw Feyre’s head go down next. Magra’s vision started to blur, but she gave Trent one more jab. “Good job, tree ant.” Another hiccup escaped her mouth. “You may’ve won this round, but I still stabbed you.” Her slurred words turned into slurred laughter before she fell back, passing out on the counter alongside her friends. 

As Trent carefully stood back up and collected the coins on the counter, he looked at Magra with begrudging respect. With a snort, he turned to stumble out of the tavern, closing the door hard on his way out. 

The slam startled Skamos awake despite the noisy tavern. “Magra!” He loudly whispered into the half-orc's ear as he shook her muscled shoulder. 

Magra groaned as she came to. “What is it? Does tree any need a squashing?” Her speech and vision were still all over the place, but she looked up to see her friend’s eyes sparkling with an idea. She sat up a little more with curiosity. 

“Remember that brain spider thing we fought?” Skamos’s eyes grew bigger as his excitement increased. “I’ve got a bottle of that thing’s brain fluid. Wanna do some body shots?” His hand was already reaching for it in his pocket. 

Magra grabbed a glass of water that Brawny had poured for them at some point and threw the liquid in Feyre’s face. 

“Ay!” The gnome shouted awake, her hands coming up as if she was woken up to fight. Wiping away water from her eyes, she saw Magra and Skamos with wide grins. “What’s the big idea?”

◊◊◊

Walking back from Luna’s, Aeldevan ran his fingers over the beaded bracelets on his right arm. They hung a little loose, so they should fit Magra’s arms perfectly. Despite the short notice, Luna had produced two well-crafted, beautiful bracelets. The first bracelet's transparent, pale blue-green zircon stones sparkled under the moon’s soft light with the demon pearl’s yellowish red sheen accenting them perfectly. The second bracelet was a lustrous bronze bangle with Magra’s color-shifting marble at its center, making small rainbows dance on Aeldevan’s alabaster skin. 

He looked up when he heard coins jingling, just in time to catch a side glance and head nod from Trent walking by. Aeldevan raised an eyebrow as he looked back, wondering if Trent had left with more coins than he went to the tavern with. 

The Rumbling Mug was just as rowdy as when Aeldevan had left. He began opening the door, eager to see if his friends were sleeping at the bar. 

“How’d the drinking-” He stopped midsentence when he saw Magra laying belly-up across two tables pushed together with everyone surrounding her and cheering. He noticed her new tunic was pulled up, exposing her pastel green bellybutton with some clear-pink fluid in it. As Aeldevan closed the door, his eyes stuck on Magra, Skamos stepped forward from the crowd and slammed his face into Magra’s stomach.

The Tiefling stumbled back, wiping some of the viscous liquid from his mouth with the back of his wrist. He spasmed a little, looking like he took a strong shot on top of being drunk, before collapsing to the floor. 

Not one to let an opportunity pass her by, Feyre quickly went to kneel by Skamos to make sure he was okay. Or at least that’s what it looked like to everyone else. Feyre swiped what she could from Skamos’s coin pouch just before Aeldevan knelt beside her. 

The druid pulled one of Skamos’s arms around his neck for support. “A little help please, Feyre?”

The gnome did what she could to help push up Skamos’s body. Once he was standing, she quickly turned to count her gold. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we went to bed.” Aeldevan said it just loud enough for Feyre and Magra to hear. “And you better have not ripped that tunic!” he said sternly to Magra. 

A couple people were helping Magra to her feet as they patted her back. She carefully shimmied her tunic back down to cover her midrift, smiling smugly as she noticed none of the seams had torn.  

“Come on little buddy. Let’s hit the hay.” Magra nudged Feyre on her way to her room. 

Feyre followed, tucking her new seventy-eight pieces of gold in her pocket. 

◊◊◊

The next morning’s sun brought a little warmth to the frigid air. Haven’s Blade sat at one of the tavern’s tables, eating a variety of breakfast foods. 

“Here, Skamos,” Feyre handed him sixty-eight gold coins. “I found these and wanted you to have them.” 

Skamos took them slowly, fully aware that Feyre found the coins in his pocket. “Funny, I noticed I was missing seventy-eight.” He let the conversation drop when Feyre made a face like she didn’t know where they could be, shoveling food in her mouth as a distraction. 

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you guys what happened after I took that shot of brain spider fluid.” Skamos’s announcement was met with curiosity and excitement from Feyre and Magra, but Ilyana and Aeldevan were unamused. 

“That’s what you sucked off Magra’s body?” Aedlvean’s voice raised as he spoke. He quickly looked around to see if anyone heard. “I can’t say I’m surprised, though...” 

Skamos rolled his eyes. “Well, they say you can see memories of the person the brain came from if you drink its fluid. So yeah, last night seemed like a good time to do it.” He looked around the table, seeing if anyone else wanted to interrupt. 

“So, I think the devourer was a familiar to some vampire. She seemed really powerful. Like I could feel what this brain was feeling and hear things, not just see its memories.” The group looked at him in surprise but stayed silent so that he could continue. “I’m pretty sure I heard someone refer to her as the Red Countess. The brain was given to that mind flayer we fought as a gift. I’ve never been, but I think it traveled from the northern wastes.” 

“Wow.” Feyre finally said after a few quiet moments. “Hopefully we don’t cross paths with her! Although I don’t think we’d have a problem.” She gave a wry smile as she patted her dwarven dagger on her hip. 

“Aeldevan,” Magra’s words were barely discernable with the wad of mashed food in her mouth. “Did Luna get my bracelets done?” 

“Oh, right,” Aeldevan revealed them on his arm and easily slid them off. “I didn’t have to wait long. She worked pretty quickly.” 

As he handed them across the table to Magra, Feyre’s eyes followed them from hand to hand. “Those sure are pretty...” 

Magra saw the way Feyre smiled mischievously. “Don’t even think about it, or I’ll turn YOU into a bracelet.” 

The half-orc placed them on her forearm, and they fit perfectly around. Admiring the craftsmanship, she almost forgot to pay Aeldevan back for the rest of the payment he covered. “Thanks for your help, friend.” He nodded in thanks as she passed the coins to him. She felt Feyre’s eyes again. “So help me, Feyre!” Magra’s stare balanced between anger and annoyance, never knowing when Feyre would strike next. 

Feyre pretended to be looking at something in the opposite direction, twirling the remnants of her breakfast with her fork. 

“Still no word form Jacob?” asked Ilyana. She reached down to give Wolfgang some scraps of her food. 

“Oh yeah! I did hear from the bread boy.” Magra smiled at the thought of him. “He got the stone.” 

“And you’re sure it was him?” Skamos leaned closer to Magra so he could ask without other tables hearing. 

Magra thought about how Jacob and she made a secret agreement the week prior, just before she went down into the catacombs. If time was short and they needed to know it was the other person, then they would sound a battle cry as their signal that they were okay. Last night before she fell asleep in her bed, such a battle cry was emitted from her sending stone, unmistakably Jacob's. Despite the loud sound, she was able to fall asleep in comfort. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Magra gave Skamos a reassuring smile. She dusted breadcrumbs off her hands and whistled for Nick. He came trotting from the side of the bar, carrying a deer bone in his mouth. After petting his sides and scratching under his chin, Magra stood up to stretch. Through a yawn, she addressed the group. “Alright, let’s go find out what the wizard wants.”

◊◊◊

The group followed Aeldevan and Skamos, one having the address and one knowing where that actually was. 

“Uh, this should be it, but maybe it was a mistake.” Skamos looked up at the three-story unkempt building. “I heard this used to be a really nice building, but it always looked like this since I was little. I don't know why he'd have us meet here.” 

"Yup, that's in need of some serious work," Feyre commented, looking very unimpressed.

As the group rounded the corner to the front of the house in Merchant’s Quarter, Olorin and Rurik were seen standing where a door used to be. As the two stepped back, Alderheart came into view. The wizard muttered something and waved his hands, lifting Aelderheart and setting him in place in the doorway.  

As soon as he was where he belonged, a wave of magic rippled from him and throughout the house, both inside and out. The tattered roof and shutters became brand new, the molding wood regained its sheen, and broken windows were magically filled with crystal clear glass. Through the repairing windows, they could see water-stained walls be wiped clean as if freshly painted, and broken chandeliers and sconces adjusted themselves to hang correctly with gemstones glinting in the just-lit firelight. The once luxurious house had been returned to its former glory. 

Olorin and Rurik admired the home, smiles spreading across their faces. When they noticed Haven’s Blade approaching, the wizard waved to them. “You finally made it!” The old man was much more animated than usual. “This is why I asked you to come here today. As you can presume, this building is from where I had originally taken Aelderheart in order to guard the catacombs. Thanks to you all, he is finally back where he belongs in the light of day.” Aelderheart's wooden face was beaming in the background, soaking up the sunshine.

“We’re all glad we were able to help him return home.” Aeldevan spoke for the group, seeing them all with smiles.  

“Magra, is that a tear?” Skamos nudged the half-orc. 

The barbarian quickly wiped her face. “Of course not. I don’t cry.” 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Feyre chimed in. “Sooo, was that all you wanted to talk to us about?” 

Olorin’s cheerful face turned quizzical. “Well, don’t you want to take a look around your new home base? That is if Aelderheart allows it; he alone decides who may enter.” 

“You mean this huge place is for us?” Feyre’s volume increased alongside her elation. “That’s awesome!” 

Magra charged forward, eager to check out the place. 

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Magra!” Aeldevan shouted after her, but she was already at the top step. 

Surprisingly, she stopped just short of ramming Aelderheart. “I just want to clarify that I don’t hate all doors, just some doors. But I promise not to bash my head through you.” 

Aelderheart smiled and through a laugh replied, “You could certainly try.”

◊◊◊

With the house restored, vibrant and clean, Haven’s Blade too felt a surge of energy coursing through their veins. But just as Magra’s hand was about to grab the doorknob, a horn blasted through the city. A group of soldiers were seen rushing to the Solaris Portal at the east side of the city. While running, a guard captain shouted to Haven’s Blade, “investigate the west gate! Orcs and strange moving trees have been sighted!” 

Olorin silently ushered the group to go help while Rurik had already run off himself. A loud boom sounded from outside the north wall, and now citizens were running every which way either to help or take cover. In the chaos, Nick bolted into an alley, and Wolfgang ran towards the east gate, causing Ilyana to run after her. 

Skamos and Aeldevan took point while Magra was catching up, hoisting Feyre onto her shoulders. A dwarf who had been nearby and heard the captain started running alongside them. No time or breath to waste, introductions could wait until the threat was neutraliezed.

Once at the Gloaming Portal, Feyre and Magra checked the area slowly. At first things seemed normal, but then they noticed a tree in the distance moving despite there being no breeze. Another boom reverberated through the air, coming from wall to their right. Aeldevan tried detecting magic, but nothing within range lit up other than his allies.  

Suddenly, a dark elf dressed in black mage robes stepped out from one of the trees and pointed in Haven's Blade's direction. “At ‘em, boys!” 

Thinking quickly, Feyre used her circlet of blasting to send a scorching ray right at the elf. The target was hit, but she didn’t show any signs of retreating so easily. 

“Wutchyer business here?” Magra shouted as she walked with authority towards the mage. Seeing two orcs hiding behind the foliage, she stopped and repeated herself. The elf only looked back in defiance as if to say Magra was not worth responding to. 

The half-orc was losing her patience, which had surprisingly lasted more than two seconds. “Best be on your way. You’re not getting through this gate!” A snicker from the elf was enough taunting for Magra. “Fuck you!” 

Being closer to the orcs, Magra swung her halberd through the bushes. The wide swing caused one of the orcs to start laughing at her. 

“That was a practice swing! Mind your business, cuz you’re not getting another warning shot.” Magra’s blood was boiling at this point, with none of the enemies taking her seriously. The same orc who had laughed at her gave two swings with his longsword, but Magra was too swift and evaded each swing.  

“Haha! How’s it feel?” Magra felt much better now after getting her own turn to laugh. 

The mage, no longer paying attention to Magra, sent out a blast of fire towards Skamos and the dwarf, Ruvira. Just before the blast hit the ground where they were standing, the two of them escaped into a dimensional door provided by the Tiefling. The other side of the door opened up right behind the mage. 

Meanwhile, Aeldevan had drawn his sword, and with a slash towards the dark elf, he erected a long wall of fire whose heat caught her and the second orc off guard. 

Seeing two enemies dangerously close to the mage, one of the moving trees lobbed a large rock and made contact with the Skamos’s head. Stumbling back, the bard tried retaliating on the treant with his Hellish Rebuke but was nullified by the dark elf who by now had noticed them. 

With the elf focused on Skamos, Ruvira dashed forward with her maul and whacked the mage in both kneecaps. The effects were instantaneous, the dark elf gripping both knees and cursing the dwarf in Elvish. 

Magra and Feyre were preoccupied with both the orcs, exchanging blows and blades. Feyre dealt a devasting strike with her adamantium dagger laced with ettercap poison on the first orc, and Magra finished him off with her deadly obsidian axe. 

Angry at the death of what might have been his brother, the second orc slashed away at the half-orc and gnome. Feyre was too small and nimble to be taken out by his large swings, although she wasn’t unscathed. As she spun around him, she used both her dagger and scimitar to slice the tendons at the back of his legs, making him drop to her eye level.  

“Hock tua!” the gnome circled the orc and spat in his face. 

As he wiped the slime out of his eyes, the last thing he saw was Magra’s axe coming down on his head. He was dead before the axe's necrotic energy could even affect him. 

On the other side of the battlefield, the mage stumbled back from Skamos and Ruvira, blasting a line of lightning through them both. Even in the daylight, the flashing light of lightning made her laughing face look possessed. Skamos's spells kept being canceled out by the mage, but that left her unable to block attacks to her allies. 

Aeldevan ran up the gate's inner steps onto the wall, getting a better view of the landscape. From there, he could see the treant winding up to hit Skamos again. The half-elf focused on the wall of fire and contorted it to wrap around the foe. Its wood immediately began to smolder and leaves catch fire. Despite the massive damage, the treant stomped through the ring of fire and socked Skamos in the face with two knotted branches for fists. 

Trying to get the animated tree’s attention, Ruvira whacked it twice with her maul. She managed to break off sizeable chunks of barks, causing the treant to get sappy and not happy. With its back turned, Magra was just close enough to bury her axe into its wooden body. 

Afraid of another direct hit from the treant, Skamos cast Cloud of Daggers on it. Unfortunately, the treant wasn’t done. In a sweeping motion, branches of bark bludgeoned Skamos into unconsciousness and made contact with Ruvira as well. In anger, she wailed on the tree with her maul until she finally felled it. 

The mage had a sadistic look on her face as she continued to cackle while throwing fireballs at Ruvira and Skamos's unconscious body. "I'll burn you all to ashes!"

Seeing the poor state his lover was in, Aeldevan extinguished his own flames and brought down a bolt of lightning on the dark elf, hoping to get her attention. Amazingly, the lightning barely stunned her, and her eyes of night stayed on the closer combatants.

Feyre, the agile climber she is, scurried up Magra’s body and fired an arrow at the mage with her magical crossbow, a fiery blue light trailing behind it. After her friend dismounted, Magra ran to try to chop off the dark elf’s head, but the mage managed to weave out of the way. As she evaded Magra’s deadly swings, the elf cast a thunderous wave and hit Feyre and Ruvira, hoping to slow down two of the three melee fighters still chasing after her. 

Fed up with this maniacal foe, Aeldevan focused all his might into the storm above, holding his sword to the sky. The crackle of electricity in the clouds finally caught the dark elf's attention just as Magra grabbed the mage's tunic. The dark elf looked up into the sky as Aeldevan brought his sword down. She opened her mouth to scream, but instead of sounds coming out of it, a long bolt of lightning surged in and traced along her veins. Before anyone could blink, the mage’s body exploded into electrified pieces that splattered the ground and Magra’s face. The electricity tingled Magra’s face and actually seemed to cure her. It turned out that Aeldevan’s plan to have her wear the electricity-absorbing vine tunic had played out sooner than he expected. 

Seeing Skamos lying on the ground across the field, Aeldevan leapt off the wall. He ran, pushing through the stinging pain in his ankles, but Skamos was still too far away. Harnessing the rest of his magic and strength, the druid pressed his hands to his lips and blew a healing kiss onto the bard’s. Skamos's mouth sparkled in a glittering light as the magic flowed across his body, lifting and spinning him slowly until his feet softly touched the ground.