Threadbare

Reunions and Reconstructions

Threadbare woke, and for a moment, he didn't know where he was.

Then he felt cold, hard arms around him, and realized that he was snuggled up with Celia. So that was good.

And with that came more recent memories, trickling one by one into his mind, displacing the dream vision that had been there. He remembered the reunion with Celia and the others now, remembered Celia going to bed with him and asking Zuula for one of her dream visions for each of them. Remembered how happy Celia had been, talking to him and staring into his eyes from less than an inch away.

He was back with his little girl, and while all might not be right with the world just yet, it was definitely on a better track than it had been yesterday.

There were many things to check on, there was much to do, there was limited time for all of it... but Threadbare pushed aside all of those aside, and snuggled into Celia's arms, resting his ear on her face and simply letting himself BE for a while. He'd earned this, he thought. And so had she.

And after a time, her eyelids snapped open, her arm tightened around his chest, and she rolled her head side to side under his, examining the cabin before sitting up and placing him on the coverlet.

Good morning, he said, tipping his hat. I hope your dream went well.

It was the usual Shaman thing, said Celia, glancing toward the metal mirror on the wall and patting her hair into shape. I was one with the land, and watching the tiny creatures live and die on it from the perspective of nature itself. You know how that one goes.

No surprises here, either, Threadbare said, sitting next to her. It was a lot less vivid than the vision Midian gave me.

Midian?

An elf woman. She should be around here somewhere. I think she's an Oracle. And maybe a little... Threadbare looked around, making sure he wasn't about to accidentally insult her. She may be a little mentally unstable, he finished, once he was sure they were clear.

His brief scan around gave him more information. The ship wasn't moving; the engines were still. Also, there was a distinct lack of noise from the rest of the ship.

That was new. And a little concerning.

Should we see what everyone else is doing? Threadbare asked Celia.

Yes no. No, wait a minute, before we go out there, Celia said. She slipped down, slipped her nightgown off, before rummaging in her pack and pulling out clothing and armor. She kept her head turned from him as she dressed, but in the mirror he could see her face shifting. He knew what this meant. She was looking for the right words, parsing them through her mind before they passed her lips.

So Threadbare waited, sitting on the bed and resting his paws on his legs. Golems were good at patience, and he knew that eventually his little girl would figure out what she needed to say here.

He wasn't disappointed.

You've noticed it. You've tried to tell me about it, Celia said, turning to him, glass eyes meeting his shoe button gaze. There's something wrong with me. There has been for a while, but it's been getting bad lately.

Threadbare curled his paws on his legs, kneading the fur. This was dangerous territory. But this was also the first time she'd admitted it without reservation.

Yes, he said, and the word hung in the air a long moment, before she sighed and nodded.

And oh, the relief when she did.

This may not be entirely right, but Chase's friend, Thomasi, he thinks he knows what it might be. Something called PTSD.

I don't know what that is, Threadbare said. Does it show up on your status screen?

No. Because it's not a condition, it's an adaptation. My brain works differently, because I've been through terrible things. So I'm adapted to deal with terrible things. Which means that when I'm not dealing with terrible things, I have problems because the back of my mind is always expecting terrible things... she looked away. And it's not been terrible. It's been good, even if things haven't been perfect. It's been good with you, and I've been worrying you, and I'm so, so sorry about that

In a second Threadbare was off the bed and hugging her. She cried then, sobbing down onto his head, lifting him up so that he could properly hug her, squeezing him so hard that his stuffing shifted inside him. He held her until she quieted, then a little longer for good measure.

Eventually she patted the back of his head twice, as she had many a time before, and he let her go. She shifted him to one arm, walking him over to the bed and tossing him up gently. Don't forget your hat and cane.

Technically it's a rod, he said for what was probably the hundredth time. But you're quite right. He retrieved his accessories from where he'd stowed them. Then he turned to her, searching her with his eyes. Celia. You don't have to be sorry about this, or anything. I'll help you however I can. We all will. You're not alone.

I know this now. Sometimes I'm going to forget it, though. You've been so very patient, please be patient a little longer. Because what I have has a name, I know that now. And if it has a name I can find a way to win. Now that I know what I'm fighting, I won't lose. Her lips clinked upward into a smile. A weary one, but a smile nonetheless. Now let's go out and see what trouble they've found without us.

As it turned out, the trouble they'd found was dinner. For the first time the captain's cabin was open to Threadbare, and that was where their friends had migrated to. Anne, Thomasi, The Muscle Wizaard, and Cagna ate while the assorted golems and doll haunters that were Threadbare's friends and allies sat or stood around the large and luxuriously-appointed room.

In the back of the room, Stormanorm III prepared food over a small stove. But he froze when Threadbare entered, and his eyes were hot as he stared at the little teddy bear. It was anger, yes, but there was something else to it. And Threadbare had a feeling that this would need to be addressed quickly, before the pirate did something everyone would regret.

Ah, the bear o' the hour! shouted Anne, waving a mug of something alcoholic at him, and beckoning with her free hand. Come in, come in! I was just tellin' 'em about how ye saved me bacon down in the hive. 'Twas a near moment wi' Karey, before ye leaped in and took the shot meant for me heart.

A pot rattled on the stove, and Threadbare looked over to see Stormanorm's hand shaking on the pot's handle.

I have a question about that, Threadbare said. Not that, but what happened afterward. After you killed Karey.

No rattling this time. Stormanorm was completely still.

What's ta question? Anne said. She came at the queen, and she missed. And I did what I had to do.

Threadbare felt Celia grip his paw, fingers squeezing.

He knew why. That had been her father's mantra, even as he passed into madness. That he had to be a hard man, making hard choices, because it had to be done. That was supposed to excuse almost any evil he committed, because somehow it was for a greater good.

It's done and we can't undo it, Threadbare said. But I was wondering if you'd like to speak with her again.

Now it was Anne's turn to go still.

And to Threadbare's relief, Stormanorm put the pot down and turned halfway, studying him with one eye just visible over his veil.

I killed her, Anne said flatly. So unless ye've got her haunting ye... ah wait. Is she in one o' yer little dolly friends?

Anne put her mug down, leaned back in her chair just a bit, and Threadbare watched the handle of a pistol ride up as she got prepared to draw.

No. She's in a soulstone. I made it for whoever lost the fight.

Ooooh, breathed Madeline. Now she gets the chawse. Doll or move ahn.

Ah. This be yer kingdom's thing, that's right, said Anne, leaning forward again. Necromancy fer second chances and all that. Just like ye, lady. Ah... pleasure ta make yer acquaintance, finally. Anne tipped her hat to Celia.

The feeling's not mutual, Celia said, crossing her arms.

Would you like to speak to her? Threadbare repeated. Or if not you, then someone else?

His eyes found Stormanorm, and the rabbit man paused, turned to gaze down at him fully, eyes now uncertain.

Aye, I think he would, Anne said. Yer relieved, boy. I'll finish the cooking meself.

No need! said the Muscle Wizaard. I'm a pretty good cook, let me give you a chance to try some of my world-famous antipasta...

Threadbare patted Celia on the arm, then walked outside. And after a second he heard the door shut behind him as Stormanorm followed.

Speak with Dead,Threadbare intoned, pulling out the soulstone and placing it in the center of the deck.

Your Speak With Dead skill is now level 32!

The world faded, just slightly. Color ebbed, and the air grew chill. The sunlight grew pale and gaudy, and the Soulstone seemed to suck it in, growing even darker.

Until it pulsed with green light.

Okay, before ye say anything, brother, this was still our best shot. I had to take it.

Karey, you damned fool, Stormanorm III said, squatting down next to the crystal. I told you this would happen.

I almost had her.

Do I need to kill the bear? Stormanorm said, glancing over to Threadbare.

Nay. I ain't sure I could have taken her even if me shot had been true. Still woulda been bladework after, and she had more fight in 'er than I figured. So don't be doin' a vengeance here, especially not wi' all his friends aboard ready to womp yer tail for treachery.

All right. Let's go through the list then, Stormanorm said, glancing over at the cabin. Do you need me to kill Mom?

Nay. And look, I know we discussed this, and we swore we'd tend to each other's unpaid debts and business afore passin' on, but I don't need that anymore. Anything untended I'll tend to meself. After I pay this here bear fellow to make me a new body.

Stormanorm's eyes widened, and he glanced between them. Ye can do that?

I can, said Threadbare. They really didn't brief you on me?

Ma told us ye were a big threat, and to leave ye to her if ye showed up during the kidnapping. Then we got to town, and Jean said ye were away on a mission so it wouldn't be a problem, Karey confirmed. But I been listenin' to the others talk, 'cause I got nothin' better ta do in here. Ye be the one who made their bodies. All o' them.

That's true, Threadbare said, leaning on his rod, paw resting on the brass knob of the bear's head. You want me to put you in a new body?

I do. I be prepared to bargain.

Stormanorm sounded uncertain. You know you'd still be undead, right? We were told about doll haunters. Jean was very thorough when she explained that. And you remember all those undead we fought before? The sunken ships, the hidden treasure caves, the corrupted islands? You remember how many dead bastards we carved our way through? You want to take the risk of becoming something like that?

Brother, Karey's voice was resolute. Here's the thing. None o' them sorry sacks of bones were me.

Stormanorm stared at the pulsing crystal for a moment, before he barked laughter. Ha! No. No I don't suppose they were, were they? If anyone could do this and still keep some semblance of brains in her skull, it'd be you. Bargain away, and if you can't cover it you can owe me.

If you provide the materials, I'll make you a body for free, Threadbare said. We were technically allies when the fight happened. I feel as though I should take care of you here.

And what materials be ye talking about? Karey asked. Reagents, like the ones you used to make the fox?

Reagents and crystals. But the type required varies, and generally the better you have, the more powerful a golem shell I can craft...

It took a little time to explain the various options, and figure out what was available. Fortunately, given the wide range of crafting jobs that his friends had, there wasn't much they couldn't cover. Well, not his Mercury Golem option. They just didn't have the raw materials for that, or a safe place to prepare it. Threadbare really didn't want to poison the groundwater. It seemed like a nice patch of woods, and he didn't want to turn it into a toxic wasteland.

After they'd come to terms, Threadbare followed them down into the ship as they retrieved treasure from various caches that Harey Karey and Stormanorm had secreted throughout the vessel.

While they were doing that, Threadbare couldn't help but notice that the ship was thoroughly empty of crew. Where did everyone go?

Out into the woods. Mam sent them foraging, since we were grounded until you two woke up.

Yes, why are we grounded? Threadbare asked.

Two reasons. One is so we can figure out what you want us to do. The other is that the engines started misfiring, and well, the only people who could fix them were sleeping.

Finally, down in the cargo hold, Stormanorm shifted aside a crate and drew out a small pouch. Opening it shone a faint green light on the ceiling above, as the contents glittered and shifted. There we go. You only need one dose, right?

Just one, Threadbare confirmed. But I'll need clay to make the shell, and a kiln to fire it. That's going to take a little time.

No ye won't, said Karey. Stormy, go get Mobbers.

Mobbers?

You'll see. Actually let's all go. You can do this anywhere, right?

I can, said Threadbare, hesitating. Who is Mobbers?

Mobbers, as it turned out, was an ancient doll that had been repainted to look like a rabbit beastkin. Its ball joints were worn down with play, its porcelain was stained and cracked, and its hair was wispy and worn. Two little cloth rabbit ears that had clearly been converted socks at one point hung from where they'd been sewn on her little tricorn hat, and a pair of derringers were grasped in her porcelain fingers. One leg was a pegleg, and she had an eyepatch over one empty socket.

Ma got that in a raid somewhere, seven years ago, Karey said. Then she had the crew make some fixes to make her a little more piratey.

I see, said Threadbare. She is mostly porcelain, and that meets the requirements. But she is pretty damaged. If you like I can mend her, and it will restore her back to how she was before the alterations.

Nay! said Karey. I be a Pirate, even now. And a Pirate wi'out scars be no Pirate at all. Twould be disrespectful to Mobbers, too. When ye think about it, she's sacrificing everything fer me. I'll not cheapen that.

Very well, said Threadbare, pulling out his sewing kit and tools. Let me add a mouth mechanism so you can talk, and then I'll do the transfer.

In a matter of minutes it was done. Next came the ritual. He dusted the reagent over the doll, Karey's soulstone was placed at the center of mass, and Threadbare solemnly chanted Clay Golem. Golem Animus!

Your Clay Golem skill is now level 14!

The green dust fizzled to nothing.

The crystal melted, flowing out to surround and invade Mobbers' form, disappearing into the porcelain and leaving a new sheen behind.

And Mobbers flexed her hands, dropping the derringers as her jaw moved, red-painted porcelain lips going up and down, up and down.

It's not like breathing, Threadbare advised. There's a lump in your throat that moves, feel for it. Then pull on it to draw breath in, push breathe out to talk. It will take some practice, so don't get frustrated.

So often he'd given this advice. And it always made him feel warm, when he watched one of his newly reborn friends finally get the hang of it. And they needed to. In this world, speech was everything. Without it, you were cut off from the power and utility of your skills, and the other various tricks that gave thinking creatures a leg up on survival.

And like so many before her, the first word that Karey managed to croak out after she worked out the mechanisms of her new tongue and palate was the same word that Threadbare himself had uttered when he could finally speak.

Status.

That was to be expected.

What wasn't to be expected was the squeak of alarm, the leaping to her feet, or the sudden impromptu dance that she burst into, running around in circles, peg leg rapping the hull with repeated TUNKing noises.

What's wrong? Stormanorm said, moving toward her only to have her totter backwards, waving her hands.

Is it the level three thing? Threadbare asked, anxiously. I'm afraid I can't make better soulstones than that, my skill just isn't high enough. Don't worry though, you'll earn them back in

Eight! Squeaked Karey, and Threadbare knew.

That dance wasn't a spasm of fear. It was pure excitement. And he made his lips curve in a smile, in that way that had taken him so long to practice.

Don't worry about it, he said, putting his paw on Stormanorm's leg. She just found out that this body lets her have eight adventuring jobs.

What? Stormanorm's voice wheezed out of him, as his eyes went wide. Eight? That means... oh sweet sister. Oh sweet sister, you can DO it now!

Karey leaped into his arms, and Stormanorm danced with her, leaving Threadbare thoroughly perplexed.

I still feel as though I've missed something, Threadbare said, rubbing at where his hat met his head.

Come up to the Captain's Quarters with us, Stormanorm said, slowing down, and putting his sister gently to the ground. We're going to break the good news to Anne and let her tell you why this just changed the game for the line of Anne Bunny...

Jobs were the cornerstone of every civilized, uncivilized, and downright savage society.

Jobs allowed those who took them on to harness abilities that were sometimes magical, sometimes mundane, but always useful.

And the trick with jobs, was that you could mix and match them to your heart's content, pulling from a wide assortment of skills to suit your lifestyle and ambitions.

But there was another trick with jobs. And that trick was known as unlocking. For when you combined skills from two or more jobs that worked well together, you could unlock an entirely new, secret, job. Or not so secret, as the case may be. Everyone back in the Carob Bun Isles knew that if you succesfully got paid to be a bandit on the high seas, then you would unlock the Pirate job.

This was known as a Tier II job. And Pirates were more of an open secret, really.

But there were pirates and there were PIRATES.

And the mightiest of Pirates in that patch of ocean had found that you could take matters further.

They had found that by combining their Pirate job, and certain other complimentary Tier II jobs, they could unlock mighty and powerful jobs that allowed them privileges, respect, and status above all other Pirates.

It was, in fact, a requirement to join the Council of Freebooters.

But...

...it was a requirement that no beastkin could ever hope to fulfill.

For Beastkin could only have six jobs. And all of the Tier III Pirate related jobs had required a seventh slot open for the final capstone.

Even guild shenanigans and swapping out jobs couldn't fix it; you couldn't maintain a Tier III job, unless you had both supporting Tier II jobs, and you couldn't have the advanced Pirate Tier II jobs without four basic Tier I jobs.

So to the Bunny pirates, the last surviving descendents of the infamous (and rather pulchritudous,) Dread Pirate Stormanorm, there had never been a way to climb the ranks to the Council of Freebooters. There had never been a path to the closest thing the Free Seas had to nobility. It was just another door barred to the beastkin, another thing that humans could lord over them.

Until now.

All this, Threadbare and the rest of his friends got from about ten assorted minutes of Anne whooping and celebrating by blowing holes in the ceiling, Stormanorm providing what exposition he could, and Karey happily and loudly, (once she had the hang of her voice,) plotting her path to power.

You say Storm Caller be Shaman and Air Elementalist? Zuula asked, once Karey had taken a break from monomaniacal laughter.

Aye! Karey squeaked. And then Storm Caller and Pirate combine to make...

Hurricane King! Er, Queen in this case. Ye still be a lady, aye?

Aye! Karey confirmed.

Hurricane Queen! Me own daughter can be the Hurricane Queen!

Council's already got a Hurricane King, last time I checked, Stormanorm cautioned.

Bah, Anne said. Give me a few bribes, a bit o' luck, and five minutes and there'll be a vacancy. Or two, maybe... she paused and gave Stormanorm a speculative look. The King o' the Planks has been a bit full o' himself lately, and ye were thinkin' o' picking up Ruler, as soon as we found a good regicide opportunity...

Stormanorm took a step back. If you want your line ended without heirs, sure.

Anne stopped, and shook her head. Right, right. Been a long night. Bad idea. Enough dead lately.

Speaking of that... Stormanorm glanced over to Threadbare. Why isn't my sister mourning her lost life? Not that I'm complaining, but...

I'm just not feelin' mopey, Karey said, shrugging and sitting down, clinking her calves on the wood of the desk.

It's because she doesn't have any glans! Fluffbear squeaked.

The cabin went quiet. The toys looked at her.

What? Fluffbear asked.

I think you mean glands, Celia said. A glans is ah, a different part of a person.

Oh, okay!

Yeah we figured out what it was, Kayin said, hopping up to sit next to Karey, drumming her feet along too. Turns out a lot of people's negative feelings are caused by chemicals that their bodies make. So when you're in a Soulstone, or a golem body, you don't get the chemicals, and your feelings get a little more muted.

For a while, anyway, Celia replied. Eventually the magic brings them back. I think. If there's one thing I want to take from this, it's that we need far more research.

This be a path that we would never have found by ourselves, bear, Anne Bunny said, settling back into a chair. And now that I know this be how it works, I think we should be a bargaining. What would it take for ye to craft a golem body for meself, when I die?

Nothing, Threadbare said.

So cheap, then? Anne's eyebrows rose.

No, Threadbare shook his head. I mean that I won't do that for you.

The room fell silent again.

Anne's eyes snapped open wide, and she slapped a hand down to her cutlass... before forcing it back up with a visible effort, glaring down at the little figure standing resolute before her.

Why? she asked, through gritted teeth.

Can you tell me the name of your daughter? The one who died at the dark water dungeon a few days ago.

Anne blinked. Threadbare watched her face as her eyes looked to the side, and gold buckteeth bit down into her lower lip. Nay, Anne admitted.

Plumbarista, Stormanorm III said quietly.

And for that I will make your son a golem body, if he wishes, for when he passes on out of his current shell, Threadbare said, his voice soft and gentle. But I do not approve of how hard you have been on your children. And I don't think making you immortal would help the surviving ones in the long run. I wish you had spent more time with them as family, rather than crew. I think it would have been better for everyone.

Oh shit, Stormanorm said, as Anne went still.

Threadbare could feel the waves of raw anger beating from her, could see her hands shaking, her eyes fixed on his, blazing with rage.

But then Celia broke the silence.

No more food. No more drink. No more sex. No more sleep, without help. Just you, trapped in an unliving shell until death takes you for good. Just the raw essence of who you are. Are you good with that, Anne Bunny? Is that truly what you want?

Anne didn't even look her way. But her eyes softened, just a bit. And then came the words, flashing into view right between them, the words only Threadbare could see, that told him that nobody was going to die here.

Your Adorable skill is level 94!

Ahhhhh... Anne said, leaning back in her chair, and closing her eyes. When ye put it that way, I'd be miserable as a miser in whorehouse. Nay, twas but a fleeting impulse. Not a plan to be settin' in motion here and now. We've got enough o' them to worry about.

We just spend way too long discussing dem plans to begin wit', said Zuula. When we gonna go and do dem?

Well now that the sleepers be up, there's some engines need fixin', said Anne. Proper like, this time.

I'm eager to get my hands dirty, said Celia. I've never had the pleasure of working on magitech before.

We'll need to team up on it, Threadbare told her. If you can handle the mechanical problems I can take care of the enchanting.

Don't you want to know the plan? Cagna asked.

I do, said Threadbare, heading toward the door. But we've got time before the foraging parties come back, so you can tell me in the hold without anyone overhearing that shouldn't.

It's not a bad plan, said Thomasi, falling in next to Cagna as the others started to trickle out of the cabin. The difficult part will be concealing everyone until the moment's right to strike...

And Threadbare listened as they recounted what they'd come up with. But a part of his mind was still on Anne.

She'd given up too fast and too easily.

Threadbare knew he would have to keep a close eye on Anne Bunny.

And that's everything we could think of, Cagna said a few hours later, as Celia and Threadbare finished the last repairs. It had gotten him another Tinker level, and some experience using his various skills. But right now his mind was on far more complicated things than machines.

Celia?

Yes?

I'm going to go check in with everyone, he told her. This is the last free time we have before things get very troublesome. Do you mind if I do that?

Just don't get kidnapped again and I'll be fine with it, Celia offered up a smile, but her tone said she wasn't really joking.

Cagna fell in with him as they headed upstairs, collecting glances from the pirate crew that had returned in the meantime.

I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised, the dog beastkin told him. I was worried you'd changed sides and decided that Anne was a good person. It can happen with kidnapping cases.

She's not a good person, but not an evil one either, Threadbare said. Pirates seem a bit confusing.

They're seagoing Bandits who make up stories about themselves to feel better about the robbery, Cagna muttered. That's all.

This is my first time meeting any, so I'll defer to your experience. And incidentally it's very good to meet you. You seem very organized and helpful.

Sudden motion to his side, and he looked up to see her tail wag under her cloak. It seemed possibly rude to draw attention to that so he said nothing.

I'm just trying to help. Chase was convinced this was important. Big important, Cagna said. Nexus of fate or something like that. Cagna chewed her lip. I helped her try a few divination experiments to nail things down, but we never could. It's like Hoon didn't want to say too much, more than he does usually. It worries me.

How can I help settle your nerves? Threadbare asked.

She actually smiled, the first one he'd seen on her. Now that I've met you and watched you work, you already have. Just keep being you, and... well, there is one thing.

Oh?

Keep a leash on that princess of yours. She's a loose cannon sometimes. And with that she knelt, slapped him gently on the back, straightened back up and headed off across deck.

But no sooner had she gone than a burbly voice said Sup, man?

That and the flap, slap, of wooden flippers on deck announced Glub's approach.

He'd picked up a woolen long hat somewhere, and an eyepatch.

You don't usually bother with clothes, Threadbare observed as the wooden fishman picked him up and gave him an easy hug.

They're gifts from the crew. Once the ladies found out I could talk, we started trading stories. They're pretty cool, and all. Course I knew that from listening to them when they thought I was just a golem and stuff. He sat Threadbare down, and after a bit of small talk they found their way to the edge of the ship, looking out across the clearing.

That was kinda ugly business at Queen's Ford, Glub said. A few people got killed when the pirates bombed the town. I mean, we killed a shitload of bees, too, but I get the sense they don't care about the workers. Just the queens.

Threadbare nodded. Anne told me that she tried to threaten the queens when they arrested her. But they retreated and threw swarms at her. But you're right, we need to do something good for Queen's Ford to make up for all the trouble they caused.

I mean... wasn't our fault. But we're hangin' with the crew that did that.

We are, Threadbare nodded. And we need each other until this is done.

Yeah... Glub's wide, lidless eyes stared out at the ocean of trees. That'll be soon, right? I never thought I'd say this, but I'm missin' home. We got a lot to do back there.

We do, Threadbare said, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. And we'll do it together. Just like we did the first time around.

Yeah, we did pretty awesome there. Glub flexed his knuckles. Been workin' on my water elemental stuff. If we get into a fight on our end, I should be able to help a lot more'n I used to.

Hopefully we won't have to. Threabare waved, and took his leave.

Madeline was next. He'd noticed the wooden dragon studying him from the crow's nest. A quick, scrambling climb later, and she was extending a hand to help him up the last leg of the trip.

Ya did pretty well fah a little guy. Those rope laddahs ain't made fah foot-tall beahs.

First of all, Threadbare said, and hugged her as tightly as he could.

Madeline folded her wings around him, and nuzzled the back of his head, bending her draconic neck in a 'U' shape. Missed you too, mistah beah.

It's been too long. I'm very glad you're alive.

Undead.

Oh you know what I mean. How was your trip? We didn't have time to talk before.

Well, afta I went through the pahtal, I found myself in a completely different place...

Madeline told a story of a land of rolling hills and warm winds, heavy grapevines and beautiful woods. A place where each city was its own nation, and the remnants of a great empire stood as a stark reminder of the power of time. Or the powah of tahm, as she called it.

So I made my way to the biggest city state and bullshitted myself as an ambassadah. Which I mean I knew you wouldn't have a prablem with. But I figahed I could use this to keep an ah out fah our people, any sahvivahs that made it through. Ya know?

And instead you found Chase and her people.

Good kids. Well, not the old guys. They're good too, though. And Cagna's a little too paladiny fah my tastes, but she knows her role.

I also understand congratulations are in order. Garon told me through decree.

Married. Yeah. She shifted her bulk, settling around him. Though what that even means fah doll hauntas I have no clue.

I think you get to decide that as you go, Threadbare said. But you're facing it together.

That's how it always is with us. I think he'll do fahn.

I hope so. Celia's had some troubles of late. But we're figuring them out... no, she's figuring them out. I wasn't very helpful with that part.

Madeline studied him. Kayin told me about some of that. I'm naht surprised. She was a human, and this is a human prablem. You and me? End of the day, we're monstahs. Even if yah a cute one, ya still a monstah.

Does Garon have any problems like this?

No. But... remembah, he spent a few yeahs as a vampaia. Chained to a bed, mostly cause he wouldn't settle dahn. He uh... he had more experience being undead. So Celia's gonna get through it, just like he did. Just gotta give her tahm. Be her beah. Easy, yeah? Been doing that all ya life.

I have, haven't I? Threadbare asked. Thank you. I'm glad you're back, Madeline.

So am I. One last hug, and it was down to the deck. A little poking around, and he found the Muscle Wizaard down in the cargo hold, gulping down fruit juice from tankards in both hands..

Well hello there! the large man boomed, as Threadbare waved a greeting. Is there something I can do for you Mister Threadbare?

I'm just checking on everyone, Threadbare said. You must be very thirsty.

I'm practicing. Watch! Force Shield!

The air in front of him frosted over, as if ice had gathered on an invisible window. Then a moment later it was gone.

It's going to take a long time to train that up, said the Muscle Wizaard, taking a long pull of juice. But it'll be great once it's done! It is so nice to finally have magic of my own.

You didn't before?

Oh no. Let me tell you... And the Muscle Wizaard, whose real name was Bastien, told him of growing up poor in a land where only the very rich or very talented could become Wizards. Of how he'd worked hard and never given up his dream, and now, well into his middle age, he had finally realized it.

So this is why I'm going to do my best to help you... and also because my friends need me to, Bastien said, finishing the last drops of juice and mopping sweat from his brow. Oof, that's rough on the sanity. You want some grape juice? There's about half a keg left, if you need your own sanity topped off.

Oh no thank you, I don't drink,

I'm pretty sure it's not alcoholic.

That took a bit to explain, and Bastien slapped his forehead when he got it. Three levels of Wizard, and I still goof up like that. I've got a long way to go...

You'll get there, Threadbare said, patting his oversized boot kindly. I'm glad you're happy. We'll work hard to make sure everyone else is, too.

He seemed very nice, and he gave one of the best hugs Threadbare had had in a long time. He wasn't very complicated, but Threadbare didn't mind. Simple was good, sometimes.

Kayin was harder to find. She was stretched out on one of the far engines of the engine room, keeping an eye on Celia as she worked.

Hey boss, she said, waving with her tail. Are you doing the thing?

I'm doing the thing, Threadbare confirmed.

I'm good. Oh! There's someone spying on the castle. I remembered that way too late. Think you can get a decree to Garon?

A few minutes later, Threadbare nodded. That's very worrying. I'll send the decree immediately. Thank you for catching that.

You're welcome! I'm just sorry I didn't remember it earlier.

It should be fine. That was only a few days ago. Hm... Complex Decree, he said, heading back upstairs and dictating a short warning message. It took two, to get the pertinent details across.

On the way, he heard some distinctly human sounds coming from the crew quarters. A quick peek in showed him that Thomasi and one of the crewbunnies were very busy, and he decided that the man was probably fine. That particular activity usually cheered living people up.

Missus Fluffbear took a bit more tracking. Eventually he found her in the armory of the ship, sorting through the weapons, and putting them into different piles.

Hmm... you're good! she said, holding up a boarding pike twelve times her height and inspecting it, before putting it against the wall and toddling over to look at a saber. Woops! That's too many nicks! Mend!

That's not a bad idea, Threadbare said, moving in to look at the piles. Do you want some help with that?

No thank you, I'm almost done! How are you, brother? Are you okay?

I am, now. It was hard being without my little girl for a while.

I understand. I felt the same about Mopsy. Except you've got Celia back, and Mopsy won't be back. Fluffbear put down the saber. I'm still figuring out how I feel about that. Mostly sad, but it's deeper.

Yes, Threadbare said, hugging the little bear. Her plate armor was cold. Golems had no body temperature.

We're going to be doing this a lot, aren't we? Fluffbear said.

Hugging?

No. Watching the ones we love die.

Yes, he said simply.

I don't think that's good for us.

No. I don't think so either.

She hugged him back then, tiny arms far stronger than his own. Don't you die, okay? I don't... I don't think I want to feel that sad. Ever.

I won't, then, he told her. And after a few more moments, he let her go and went looking for his last friend.

But she found him.

Dreadbear, Zuula said, as he peered over the railing from the bow.

He turned and she was there, yellow eyes glowing in the night, peering out from a loose coil of rope. Zuula.

You come to see how we do?

Yes.

Zuula doing well. Fight yesterday, fight tomorrow. Good times.

It may not come to a fight. I really am hoping we can talk this through, Threadbare said, walking over to sit next to the rope.

You and I know it will not be dat easy, Zuula said. Which be fine. She be feeling an urge to kick names and take ass.

Zuula was a bit loose with her pronouns at times. Most orcs, Threadbare gathered, didn't fuss over small details.

It's fortunate you returned when you did, Threadbare said. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Mmm. You know dat Anne gonna be trouble, yeah?

Oh yes.

Good! Not so foolish bear. Zuula been watchin' dem bunnykin. Much like orcs, but many differences. Orcs and humans, dey got a ting in common. Dey are de ones who eat de prey. Bunnykin... not so much.

They don't eat prey.

No. Dey be half prey and half human. Humans are predators wit' anxiety. Bunnies be simple prey. So dey gotta prove to demselves that they are not prey, over and over again. Is why Anne is so dangerous.

She has nothing to prove to us, Threadbare said. Or herself. She was beating us when we fought, the first time.

Are you not listening? Unclever bear! No ting to prove to us. Every ting to prove to herself. And Zuula, she be tinking most bunnykin like dis. Driving, striving to find a balance by going too far to de human side, and not honoring de bunny side.

I don't know if we can help with that, Threadbare shook his head.

Perhaps we cannot, but we must be aware of it, Zuula said. Keep you eyes wide, and ears open. Think. Watch what dey do when tings start going wrong. Don't be watching Anne. Watch de tings dat are certain to set Anne off.

And what then? Threadbare asked, but he didn't expect an answer. And he wasn't disappointed.

You do de right ting. Or we all be fucked.

She was silent after that, and he sat with her as the ship made ready for liftoff, pondering the Shaman's words.