3Disclaimer: I don't own Critical Role.
A/N: I've been playing around with this idea for a few weeks now, and it keeps changing. But I thought I'd go ahead and start writing something, otherwise I never will! I apologize in advance for anything that goes against in-game mechanics or if I forget how often spells can be used or how long they last. I'm sorta going to play a little loose with that sort of thing but overall stay true to CR and look things up! Also, I started this before Episode 78, so they're sort of just focusing on finding the missing Beacon here. :)
Wolf Cub
Chapter 1
"How hard, really, do you think it'd be to kill a werewolf? Just in case."
"Again, I will remind you that is just an old story," Caleb said, shaking his head at Nott, "People tell it to their children to keep them away from the forest."
Nott glanced over at the nearby woods where the trees grew close together on the edge and shadows gathered farther in. Her narrowed eyes flicked to Caleb, and she pulled a crossbow bolt from her pouch to inspect the new dull silver tip. "I know, I know, it's stupid, but still…we've seen crazier things than giant-ass wolf men."
Caleb nodded. "I am not saying they do not exist, but I do not think that they, ah, actually exist here in this particular forest."
Nott frowned and drew her shoulders up. "Oh, that makes me feel so much better."
Caleb made a face, and Frumpkin trotted over to flop down in Nott's lap like a purring security blanket.
The Mighty Nein had pulled off the road so they could camp for the night at the edge of the forest. Halfway between Allfield and Deastok, they were skirting the edge of the Cyrengreen Forest and pushing themselves to travel as quickly as possible. It had been luck that had led them to a freaked out traveler in Trostenwald who talked about weird, unexplainable happenings going on in Deastok, things that sounded similar to occurrences in the Cerberus Assembly researcher's notes from Felderwin.
Without a definite bead on Yasha and a certain need to fulfill their obligations to the Dynasty, they had decided to travel toward Deastok. So far, they hadn't been attacked on the road, but they all knew that it was probably just a matter of time. A couple of shopkeepers in Allfield had told them about the supposed werewolves of the Cyrengreen Forest, hence Nott's newest obsession with making silver-tipped arrows. Every night and stop along the way had involved some kind of experiment with new kinds of arrows.
The day had been almost warm, but the evening was beginning to grow chilly as the sun sunk low in the horizon. It was officially spring in Wildemount, but winter hadn't quite released its hold, especially at night. Dirty snow still clung to the ground in places the sun found it hard to reach, and crusts of ice formed around puddles along the road every morning.
"Hey, do you think I'd be a blue werewolf if I got bit?" Jester said. She was perched beside their small cooking fire, poking at it with half-burnt stick while Caduceus fixed a vegetable stew. The scent of the spices he had brought along from Rosohna swirled around the group, chasing some of the chill away.
"You're always a blue animal when you do the thing, so I think so," Caduceus said.
"Yeah, definitely a blue werewolf," Beau said. She had Fjord had just finished their evening exercise routine, which meant she was relaxing by the fire while Fjord laid on the ground, groaning intermittently.
"You wouldn't blend in very well with the forest if you were blue," Nott said, one hand in Frumpkin's fur, "Though I'm sure you'd be very pretty."
"Thank you, Nott."
Caleb made an unconvinced noise. "At twilight she would blend very well. Good camouflage."
"That's only a little bit of the day, though. Maybe I should try to not be blue if I get bit," Jester said, "Or, ooo, maybe you turn the same color as whatever werewolf bites you! Like, you know, if you get bit by a silvery werewolf, you're silvery, too!"
"Nah, I think your fur would be whatever your hair color is," Beau said.
"Why are we talking about werewolves again…" Fjord mumbled, one arm thrown over his eyes. "We had this same conversation last night. And, oh yes, the night before that."
"You butted into this conversation uninvited, so you can just go back to moaning about your barely-existent muscles, Seaweed Wrap," Nott teased.
Fjord shot a glare at her and rolled over onto his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms. He was too tired to shoot a true verbal barb back, but he wasn't willing to completely give up. "But they do exist now."
"Yep, sure do." Caduceus reached over and congenially patted Fjord on the back before he went back to stirring the stew.
Jester grinned. "So…Fjord would be a green werewolf, right?"
"No, black and grey," countered Beau, "It's the hair that's important."
The conversation devolved into more discussions about what they would potentially all look like as werewolves until they got hung up on the mystery of Caduceus' actual hair color. Was it pink or white? Did things he ate affect it? But the Firbolg was being elusive, perhaps just for his own amusement.
"But has it always been pink?"
"Pink's a nice color."
"Caduceus!" exclaimed Jester, partially frustrated. "Just tell us your hair secrets already!"
He gave her a slow smile and shrugged. "They're not really secrets."
"Then just—"
"What's that?" Beau said, straightening up and looking toward the north along the treeline. The alertness in her voice caught the attention of the group, reining them in from the frivolous argument.
"Looks like a bunch of horses with riders," Fjord said after sitting up and taking a good look. They were mostly a blur in the distance, but they were rapidly making their way down the treeline. "And…I don't know what the hell that is out in front." Something was racing in front of them, small and impossibly fast for its short humanoid shape, a dash of shadow that was somehow keeping ahead of the horses.
Nott stood, one hand on Caleb's shoulder. Frumpkin jumped away and went over to curl around Caleb's leg. "Should we hide?"
"Would we have enough time?" Caduceus said. "And there's the fire."
"We didn't do anything wrong, no one said we couldn't camp out here," Jester said rapidly.
"They might turn away from us," Caleb said.
"How about we stay here but everyone gets ready in case we have to hit somebody?" Beau suggested, "Sound good?"
In response, Nott dove behind a fallen log at the edge of the forest, positioning a bolt in her crossbow. Caleb followed her into the tree line, sliding partially behind the trunk of a massive yew tree, and a snap of his fingers made Frumpkin disappear. Beau and Fjord got up while Caduceus and Jester stayed where they were by the fire, though they were both watching the horses in the distance.
The short figure that was running out in front of the horses abruptly slowed down and then tumbled to the grass before jumping up again. They were still a way off, but everyone heard a crack of thunder and saw a few of the horses forced backward before the person took off again at a ridiculous speed, still heading south toward their camp. A dip in the countryside put the person out of sight for a moment.
"Isn't that a thing that Shakäste does?" Nott whispered to Caleb. "The thunder thing?"
"Yes, one of many things."
"How are they moving that fast?" Beau said.
"A really cool spell?" Jester suggested, "Or enchanted boots, I heard that there are these boots that can make you go so fast—"
"Oh shit," Fjord broke in, taking a step forward, hand reaching for his sword as the blur leading the pack of horses burst over the hill and hurtled into the middle of their campsite. They curved around Fjord and nearly ran into Beau before they slipped on the dewy grass, their feet sliding out from under them. Their momentum rolled them across the ground until they hit the base of a tree.
For a moment, a small person in dark clothes was fully visible, half-curled against gnarled roots, momentarily dazed. A cloth covered the bottom of their face, and they reached up with a shaking hand to yank a hood over hair that seemed short and maybe black before it disappeared behind cloth.
"Hey there," Caduceus said, giving a friendly wave.
Wild eyes stared around, taking all of them in, before the person looked up at the tree. Hoofbeats grew louder, and the riders were suddenly into their camp, causing the Mighty Neins' own horses to start neighing and stamping their hooves. With a frenzy of movement, the runner flung themselves at the tree and began to climb recklessly, sending twigs and bits of bark falling to the ground after them.
The horses clomped around the camp, and Fjord had to reach down and snatch up Nott and Beau's packs before one of the horses could stomp on them. He tossed them out of the way, closer to Caduceus.
"There it is," a brunette female in deep blue riding gear sneered, pointing toward the tree as she halted her horse. Another one, a man with a handlebar moustache, lifted a crossbow and even as Jester and Fjord shouted at them to stop, they loosed a bolt toward the tree. There was a spark like flint crashing into steel, and the bolt fell to the ground.
"Hey, assholes!" Beau yelled, her staff settled over one shoulder, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Catching a mangy thief," the brunette rider said, lifting her chin and casting a scowl at the tree. "Arthur, do try again."
Three of the riders, one man and two women, were in lavish clothes of thick satin and expensive soft leather, their cloaks thick and expensive, their weapons gilded with gold. The other five riders seemed to be a mix of servants and knights, their clothing simpler and their weapons unadorned.
The man, Arthur, lifted the crossbow and took another shot at the presumed thief. This time there were no sparks, just a high-pitched yelp that was quickly muffled.
"Maybe let's not be so hasty with the crossbows," Caduceus said.
"You've got them treed, so you can stop shooting at them," Beau said, lowering her staff from her shoulders.
"We'll stop shooting when we're satisfied and our property is returned," the brunette woman snarled, "Unless you're part of the Righteous Brand and have any kind of authority here?" The doubtful tone in her voice was thick, and it didn't sound like she would be too keen on stopping even if they were part of the military.
A bright shot of fire flared from the tree and struck the ground in front of the brunette woman's horse. The horse reared, and she would've been unseated if she had been a lesser rider. The male rider and two of the knights with the group both took a few more shots at the tree.
"Well, you definitely hit the tree, good job at aiming," Fjord said, "Now how about you ride out of our camp that you've half destroyed, and we won't retaliate."
"Do you have any idea who I am?" the brunette woman said.
"Nope, but I bet you twenty gold pieces that you're about to tell us," Jester piped in, standing up, her hands on her hips. "Probably in a really snooty way too, huh?"
The woman cut her eyes at Jester. "I will not have a thief attack my hunting party and I without exacting a punishment on said thief."
"See, you just didn't say your name because I made a bet," Jester said, "Doesn't count."
"What'd they steal?" Beau asked, leaning on her staff now, her knuckles tight on the worn wood.
The other woman, this one wearing a massive hat and a maroon riding outfit, sniffed loudly. "My favorite pair of riding gloves."
Beau blinked. "Seriously."
"And some of our food," the mustached man added pointedly. "It was expensive, very fine fresh venison."
"How much was it?" Caduceus said.
"What?" the woman in the hat said.
"How much money were the gloves and the food worth?"
"The gloves were my favorites," the hat woman fussed, "I can't put a price on adoration."
"A couple silver!" Nott called from her hunkered down spot by the log. To the riders, her voice must've seem ragged and disembodied, and by the way they all looked around uneasily, they now thought there were a lot more people with the ragtag group than they first thought.
Caduceus reached into a pouch on his belt and fished out a few coins. "Mmm, I'll give you three gold pieces, and then I think they'll let you leave. All right?"
"We came here for that thief, and we aren't leaving until we have it," the brunette woman snapped, wrapping the reins around her hand once more as her horse tossed its head.
Behind the tree, Caleb pulled out a small piece of string and a wood of wood. After a few whispered words, an invisible pair of feet crushed the soft grass near Beau. Her eyes flicked toward the spot where Schmidt was standing before she looked back toward the riders. While the brunette woman went off on a sanctimonious tirade about the state of the world and the unlawfulness of these troubled times and brutish underbelly of the Empire, Schmidt's footprints crossed over to toward the horses. Caleb eventually had to step out of the tree line to give Schmidt enough of a range, but only a couple of the riders seemed to notice him.
The woman was in the middle of a declaration against crime in general when her horse reared up, its front legs kicking the air. A moment later, another horse started bucking and then a third took off running. Caleb crossed his arms and rubbed at his neck as Schmidt slapped another horse on the rump, causing more pandemonium for the hunting party.
"We'll take care of your thief, no worries!" Fjord called over the din, stepping out of the way as one of the horses cantered away from the others.
If there was any chance of the hunting party rallying and getting their horses under control, it was demolished when Nott dashed out from behind the fallen tree, waving her crossbow in the air.
"Attack, goblin brethren!" she roared, shooting a bolt off toward the hunting party. It went wide, but it certainly caught their attention.
Jester grinned before clapping her hands to her cheeks in exaggerated horror. "Oh, no, goblins!" She cast Thaumaturgy, and the sound of goblin laughter and feet hitting the ground rolled out from the forest.
Caduceus shrugged and used Thaumaturgy as well to shake the ground, adding to the illusion.
Faced with a goblin horde, the hunting party took off, racing back the way the tree line. Nott gave a smug smile and put her crossbow away as Caduceus righted the stew pot that had gotten kicked over in the chaos.
"Dinner's going to be late," he said.
Nearby, Schmidt's invisible form started to straighten up the camp and gather more twigs and sticks for the fire.
"Maybe our glove thief would like to come join us," Fjord said, glancing up at the tree. The small figure was almost impossible to see in the shadows and branches, especially as the sun continued to set, but they were just visible.
"Only if they don't try to steal our shit or do magic," Beau said. She set her staff down and crossed her arms over her chest. "You listening?"
There wasn't any response.
"Do you think they're okay or bleeding or something?" Jester asked, "They did get shot at a lot of times." She waved up at the tree with both hands before cupping them around her mouth. "Hey, did you get hurt really bad? We can heal you!"
"They are probably scared," Caleb said, "And possibly very tired."
"They did do a lot of magic," Nott said, "What kind of speed spell was that? That'd be handy."
"I did not recognize it."
"You guys don't think they died up there, do you?" Jester said, frowning, "That'd be a bad place to die, they'd be stuck up there forever. They'd be a tree skeleton one day and everyone would be like, ooo, look at that weirdo."
"I could check," Caleb said quietly, and Frumpkin reappeared as he snapped his fingers. The fey cat wound through his legs and then darted off toward the tree as Caleb put a hand on Beau's shoulder.
Frumpkin's climb up the tree was overall smooth-going, though Caleb winced when he almost didn't make one of the jumps. Gingerly, Frumpkin settled onto a limb and meowed at the thief.
At first, the thief looked something like a bundle of dark cloth pressed against the tree, but then they pushed against the trunk, turning to look at Frumpkin. The cloth that had been covering their nose and mouth was pulled down, revealing the dirty, tear-streaked, badly scratched face of a young girl, perhaps only eleven or ten years old.
Caleb gripped Beau's shoulder tighter. "Mädchen."
"In Common maybe…?" Beau mumbled even though Caleb couldn't hear her.
"I think it means girl," Nott offered, a note of concern in her voice. "But probably not, I mean, he can't be saying that it's a little girl up there. Right?"
Frumpkin meowed again and padded closer along a thick branch, sitting down nearer to the girl. She laid her forehead against the tree and watched Frumpkin. A few greasy locks of short hair that looked faded black and grey poked out of the hood that was sliding back over her head. It seemed to have been cut a few inches above her shoulders.
"Hi," she said softly, her hand reaching toward the cat before she drew it back, "You're very pretty. What...you are with them?" There was a faint accent to her words, one that made Caleb straighten up. The girl shifted her weigh, and one of the branches creaked. She froze then looped one arm around the tree trunk, shuddering as she tried to lift her right arm.
One of the crossbow bolts had hit her on its way past, slashing open one of her sleeves but not burying in. Fresh tears gathered in her eyes as she lowered her right arm and pushed a bit of cloth back from the wound.
The gash was shallow, long and messy, but Caleb's attention was abruptly yanked toward something glinting in her arm, catching the fading sunset light. Thin, delicate green symbols shimmered as she pulled her arm closer to her chest, sniffling. Caleb had Frumpkin step closer, but he couldn't get a better look.
As she curled in on herself, though, he noticed a terribly familiar necklace dangling from her neck.
He felt Beau shaking him, and he let his senses snap back into his own body before she could jostle him harder.
"Hey, you're all sweaty, what's wrong?" Beau demanded.
"Caleb, Caleb are you all right? You look awful!" Nott said frantically.
Caleb shoved his hands through his hair as his mind whirled, thoughts battling each other to get to the forefront. He covered his mouth, feeling sick, and looked up at the tree. "I…we may have a problem."
