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infanttree · 7 years

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Art by the amazing @fluorescentwolf!

It started with a few lines in the middle of a letter.

And please tell Grog that I miss him so much. Things are still very busy with the temple, and I am picking up lots of boulders all by myself. There’s a few that are too big for me though, and if he doesn’t come and visit soon, I’m going to get Kern to come help instead.

Scanlan did as he was asked and read the letter aloud to the goliath over their dinner. Once he was finished, he looked up to see Grog’s face, and immediately said, “I’m sure she was just joking, Grog. She’s not going to replace you with Kern or anyone else. Once we’re done here, we can head over to Vasselheim, okay?”

The goliath nodded in a distracted way. His lips pursed and his brow furrowed. It wasn’t often that Grog was deep in thought, so Scanlan waited for the moment to pass. It didn’t pass quickly, though. For a few minutes, they were both quiet.

Finally, Grog said, “Pike never writes to me ‘cause I can’t read. I want her to write to me instead of to you with ‘tell Grog somethin’ in the middle.”

“Well,” Scanlan said, after a moment of thinking himself. “How about you write her a letter then? You tell me what you want to say to her, and I’ll write it down for you, exactly the way you said it. Then we can send it off.”

“But that’s not really me writing it.”

Scanlan frowned, then excused himself. He returned a few minutes later, having raided Percy’s room for a few large sheets of drafting paper and some pencils. He spread one out in front of Grog and handed him a pencil, then set up one of his own. “Then I’ll write it down, and you’ll copy each word. It’ll be your words, and your own hand writing them.”

Grog considered the pencil in his hand, dwarfed by his fingers. “I dunno. Isn’t this stupid?”

“I don’t think Pike will think that. I think she’d love a letter you wrote.” Scanlan had to stand on his tiptoes to reach high enough to pat the goliath’s hand comfortingly. “Let’s get started.”

Dear Pike

I hope you are OK. I miss you. Today I killled some bandits. Plaese write back.

-Grog

It took a few drafts to get it even that accurate, so once it was down to only two errors, Scanlan declared it perfect and rolled the drafting paper into a nice scroll.

The letter was much larger than what the ravens of Whitestone were used to, but it wasn’t heavy, so after a bit of fussing Scanlan was able to tie it between two of the birds and sent them on their way. For the next few weeks he saw Grog scan the skies each time they were outside Whitestone castle. (He wasn’t a religious gnome, but he said a quiet prayer to whoever was listening that the letter had arrived okay.) In the meantime, he and Grog met once a day. At this point--with the help of some ability enhancement from Keyleth--the goliath knew his own name and Pike’s name at a glance, as well as most of the alphabet. Grog wasn’t always there on what they looked like, but Scanlan had taught him the song.

Scanlan had seen some frightening things in his long life, but nothing quite matched up to an oversized goliath swinging a greataxe and singing the alphabet song as he cleaved his way through a flock of harpies that threatened a herd of Whitestone’s cattle.

Three weeks to the day, Cassandra approached the party in the courtyard of the castle, just after they returned from another short mission. “Grog, you have a letter from Vasselheim.”

“Really?” Grog’s face lit up and he grabbed the roll of parchment in a rush, only to stop when he noticed the letters on the front. His lips moved as he looked at the familiar shapes.

G-R-O-G

“It’s for me! There’s some other words here, but it says my name.” The goliath’s grin was the same as it always was when he thought of his best buddy Pike. She’d written in large, clear print and filled up the single sheet with her response to his letter. He looked it over once, picking out the few words he knew and sounding out one or two more, then handed it to Scanlan to help him with the rest.

Dear Grog,

I was so happy to get a letter from you. I miss you too, so much. Today we cleaned some more rubble from the temple, and I had lunch with Lyra from the Slayer’s Take. She talks a lot, doesn’t she? Keep writing to me, please. I will always write you back.

Your sister,

Pike

Scanlan finished reading it aloud, then looked up at Grog. The goliath was beaming, and carefully took the parchment back to look over it again. He squinted and held the letter up to his face, as if that would help him decipher more of the words. “Hey, Scanlan?”

“Oi,” Scanlan said, though he knew what the rest of the question would be. “Should I go take some more drafting paper from Percy’s room?”

“Yeah!” said Grog, with a grin.

“Ahem,” despite his tone, Percy was grinning as well. “You can also just ask for it, or buy it yourself. It’s not that expensive, but I like not being out every time I want to work on something. I’ll go get you some now though.”

Percy met them in the study a few minutes later, with several rolls of drafting paper under his arm, as well as a few oversized pencils. “These are typically used for woodworking, but it will probably be easier for you to handle than the ones I keep in my workshop. Just don’t press too hard, the lead is a little softer in these.”

Grog’s eyes lit up as he took the writing utensils and looked one over. It certainly felt more sturdy in his hand than the little ones he’d broken so many of already. “Thanks! Did you make these for me?”

“No, Grog. I bought them for you and Pike. I’m certain she’s looking forward to the next letter from you.” Percy smiled up at him and picked up the other pencils that were already on the table from the previous day’s study session. “And I also got them so you’d stop stealing mine. Now I’ll leave you to your writing.”

Scanlan climbed up onto the table so he could crouch beside the drafting paper. “Let’s start with what you know, Grog. Write Dear Pike at the top, and we’ll go from there. You’re gonna sound out some more of the words this time, and I’ll correct your spelling if you need it.”

Dear Pike,

I miss you still. Whitestone is too quiet except for the harpies. We killed some harpies last week. Scanlan has been helping me with writing every day. Persy gave me some new pencils that are big. It is better to write like this. Did you ever join the Slayers Take? You should or else they will hunt you down because you are a MONSTA. Stay safe until you come back to us. Everyone says they miss you too. Dont get too strong without me.

-Grog

This next letter was longer than the last one, spanning two sheets, and required some clever knots to secure it to the ravens. They also wrapped the whole thing in a waterproofed cloth to keep the two sheets of paper dry on the long journey. Scanlan and Grog watched the whole awkward mess of package and birds head off to Vasselheim, the former grinning and the latter deep in thought. (It was usually easy to tell when Grog was deep in thought. It didn’t happen that frequently and it looked fairly painful for the goliath.)

“Hey, Scanlan?”

“Oi, what do you need, big guy?” Scanlan had to crane his neck to look up at his friend, at least until Grog picked him up and put him up on his shoulder.

“I just wanna say thanks. For spendin’ all this time teaching me. Pike and Wilhand tried to teach me to read back when we were young. I wasn’t good at it and it made me real angry. I’m glad I’m learnin’ now, though.” Grog didn’t look at him as he spoke; his eyes just followed the black speck that was the ravens until they disappeared into the Alabaster Sierras.

Scanlan patted the top of Grog’s bald head, a feat only accomplishable because he was already on his shoulder. “Hey there, don’t worry about it. You know I’d do just about anything to make Pike smile, and she’s gonna love this letter. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I bet the reason you’re doing better with your reading and writing now is that you’ve got someone worth writing to.” Scanlan’s eyebrows perked up as he had a thought. “Maybe next you could write to Wilhand, or to some of the other people important to you.”

“I should write to Wilhand!” Grog said, and finally looked away from the skyline. He turned and headed back into the castle, towards the library and their makeshift classroom. “Only Pike and Wilhand are far away thought. The rest of my family all lives here.”

“You can write to them anyway. I’m sure they’d like to get letters from you. And you won’t have to wait weeks and weeks for the responses from them either.” Scanlan pointed ahead of them, where Grog was taking them anyway. “Onward, to literary accomplishment!”

Over the next few days, the rest of Vox Machina were surprised by ravens showing up, bearing large pieces of paper with simple, messy printing. They all knew what Grog and Scanlan had been up to for the past few weeks, but it was a little unsettling to get letters from the goliath when they were in the same building.

Dear Vex

I found this for you. Can I have some more money for more paper? I want to write more letters to my buddy Pike.

-Grog

When Vex unscrolled her note, she was surprised by a bundle of cardinal feathers that fell out. She looked at the bright red feathers--pristine, and therefore unlikely to have come from Grog catching the bird and then biting its head off--and tucked them away to use for fletching her arrows later. She could give him a few more silver, no problem.

Dear Keylieth,

I like how you turn into a rock monster. Can I throw you and then you turn into a ellemental? That would be fun. Please give the other letter to Persy.

-Grog

Keyleth opened her letter and read it, smiling the whole time. She passed the other folded piece of paper to Percy, who turned and looked over at Grog and Scanlan, who were seated at the other end of the library. They’d been there every free minute for the past few weeks, and their lessons had turned into a comforting lull when he was reading. “Was the raven really necessary? We’re just over here.”

“Just read it, mister lord-of-the-castle!” Scanlan yelled back, without looking up from what he was writing.

Dear Persival Fredrickstine Von Musel Kowalski De Rollo the Third,

I’m never gonna write your whole name again.

-Grog

Percy sighed, then looked over at his friends again. “Thank you, Grog. You do need to work on your spelling, though.” “What?” Grog asked, confusion evident in his voice. “Scanlan helps me with spelling!”

Percy sighed again and wadded up a piece of paper--not the letter, but something with a crossed-out formula on it--then threw it at the gnome’s head.

Vax’s letter was delivered via a wad of paper aimed at his head. It had his name written out, as well as a rather crude drawing of a goliath standing on a man with pointed ears and feathered armor.

The next day, their breakfast was interrupted by a loud cawing. A raven landed beside Grog’s plate, and it hopped on one foot until the goliath was able to untie the cord that bound the scroll to its other leg. The bird waited for some sort of tip or acknowledgement, but it was not forthcoming. Instead, the goliath unfurled the paper and began to read, his lips moving as he sounded out the words.

Dear Grog,

Your last letter was lovely. I promise not to get too strong before you get back, but I am thinking of trying my hand in the fighting pit. I bet I’ll be able to make some money there. No one’s going to expect me!

I hope everyone in Whitestone is doing well. Tell Percy and Scanlan thank you from me. I love your letters and I’m glad they’re helping you. Give Scanlan a big hug in particular. I know he’s been working with you a lot. When I get back from Vasselheim, we’ll need to go visit Papa Wilhand in Westruun. He’ll be so impressed with everything you’ve learned.

I hope to hear more from you soon.

-Pike

Grog smiled and looked down at Scanlan. The gnome looked back up at him and nodded, “Just let me finish my breakfast, and then we’ll get started on the next one.”

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