Reunions and Reconstructions (2/2)

“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.