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hestiacrow · 2 years

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The Wild Travels of Jackal and Fennec

Not exactly an example of a commission per se, but this is the quality you could expect when asking me to write a one-shot for you, though it will be far shorter than this. I wrote this as a Christmas present in 2022, and it focuses on two of my current favourite NPCs, tabaxi siblings Jackal and Fennec, with guest appearances of the characters of some of my players: Firana, Eleftheria, Willow, Romunn and Yennalie.

Jackal wrenched his sister from the crumbling entrance of the cavern they had barely escaped from with all their limbs intact. The collapse threw up one last wave of dust and sand, sending it rushing towards them like a tsunami, and he barely had time to close his eyes so the tiny grains wouldn’t scratch him so badly he would lose his sight. They tangled in his hair, flooded his ears with an uncomfortable pricking feeling, danced around his cloak as it flapped behind him. Choked air rushed past his face and he hunched himself over Fennec, holding her close to protect her once again. The rush felt like it lasted forever, and when the silence finally came he didn’t know whether he had gone deaf or if it was over. Fennec shifted a little against him, claws digging into his cloak.

“Is he gone…?”

Nervous, tail swaying wildly over the sand, Jackal raised his head, squinting against the sun. Coils of dust spiralled up into the air, slowly floating down to the ground, sparkling harshly in the baking heat of the desert. A rock tumbled down from the cliff above them, clacking and clattering over the boulders that now blocked the labyrinth entrance, rolling to a stop right at their feet. The mad demon within the cave was still shrieking, scratching at the walls and trying to tear its way out of its underground prison, but he was certain he had cut off its connection to whatever was fuelling its magic. That thing wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Jackal slowly loosened his grip on Fennec’s shoulders, letting her sit up and look back at the death trap they had just outrun.

“I think so.”

A breathless laugh fell from Fennec’s mouth and she flopped back onto the sand, cackling up at the sky. Her brother watched her for a moment, worried she had lost her mind while trapped with the monster, but his ears twitched, picking up soft, slightly garbled whispers of ‘it’s over’. Jackal couldn’t help but crack a smile of his own. He had his sister back. She was safe. She opened one eye and watched him breaking into laughter in spite of himself, exhausted and too relieved to hold back. They did it. They got out.

Oh, did it feel good.

However, somehow they both knew that the collapsed cave behind them wouldn’t be enough. If they really wanted to be safe, Roguerock couldn’t stay their home. They had to leave. Go somewhere, far away, as far as they could go, to get away from the Mouth of the Reverse, as the nickname went.

And neither of them could speak of what happened here in the desert for a long, long time.

The vast expanses of sand and tumbleweed and a bipolar climate depending on the time of day had long been left far behind the siblings, bustling market tents and quick tongues traded for dark grey buildings piercing the sky and glares for anyone who didn’t belong. The horse they had traded almost a quarter of their wares for in the last town tossed its head as they approached the gates, agitated. Jackal couldn’t blame it. This place was anything but welcoming. If anything looked evil, Darkstrand City fit the bill perfectly. Buildings like spears, streets where those living there walked in silence and refused to look anyone in the eye, alleys where those who would make the most unsavoury of desert tricksters shudder.

This was not the place he had hoped for.

While Darkstrand City had a reputation for being home to one of the most infamous gangs in all of Oskaria, and almost nothing good came out of those streets glistening with the wrong thing, Jackal had hoped that it would at least be a decent starting point for him and Fennec. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, their weapons and the spices in their cart, no home, no shelter and very little money. The past few months had been very rough; it had been almost two years since they had left Roguerock, stopping in town after village after town in desperation, searching for something, somewhere they could be safe. Surely there had to be something here that could help. The city was huge, there had to be something they could take advantage of.

Unfortunately, they quickly found that this was not the case. No inn would take them, or didn’t have space for the cart, or didn’t have room, so Jackal tied up the horse in a more or less hidden location, wrapped himself and Fennec in thick blankets to stave off the cold night air and huddled up with her in the wagon. It wasn’t long before his ears pricked up and shook him out of his half-asleep state, and he went straight for his dagger. Shapes of people he didn’t recognise stalked at the edges of his vision, just far enough away for them to be out of his sight save for their movements. He had been in enough fights and ambushes in the desert to know exactly what they were up to. He didn’t know what they wanted, but he was certain it was not good.

“Strange travellers… we don’t get your kind around here,” one of them spoke, startling Fennec awake, and she instinctively grabbed Jackal’s crossbow, something they kept close just in case. The strangers just laughed, one coming close enough for Jackal to finally make out what they looked him. A dragonborn, a green one, poisonous and slouching like some kind of hunchback, his right eye milky white and disfigured by scars. While he had never seen a green dragonborn before, Jackal had heard of their kind, nasty pieces of work that they were. Sure, the desert had several dragonborns, primarily brass, gold and red ones, and very rarely the places they had stopped in might have a black or bronze dragonborn, but he had never seen one that was green before.

“What is it you want…?”

Scales shifted and creaked as the dragonborn cackled, tossing his sword from one hand to the other, “Everything you have.”

Jackal’s ears flattened against his head, “Is this the welcome Darkstrand offers? No shelter on the first night just to be attacked by some unorganised group of bandits?”

“Oh, we are plenty organised…” another of their potential assailants moved close enough for Jackal to see, a female human, hair half shaved and covered in tattoos, a club in her hand, “More organised than you, that’s for sure.”

Fennec leaned closer to Jackal, the crossbow in her hands trembling, “Jackal… what do we do…?”

“Stay close. They won’t get a thing from us,” her brother carefully drew his dagger from beneath the cloak he wore, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt. Dragonborn snarled, pointing his blade at the siblings.

“Then your life will be your payment. Get them.”

What happened next was barely more than a blur. Human was the first to lunge, and Jackal dodged her club easily, burying his dagger deep into her shoulder. Fennec panicked, her finger twitching on the trigger of the crossbow and launching the loaded bolt through the air. It pierced the head of an approaching orc with a sickening squelchy thud, sending him flopping gracelessly to the ground. Dragonborn sent a wave of poison breath straight for the wagon, and Fennec dragged her brother down, almost crying out in panic as the green smoke flew over their heads.

“What the-“ a shocked cry from Dragonborn was cut off abruptly, followed by outraged shouts from the other bandits, which swiftly became surprised cries of pain. Terrified, Fennec huddled as close to Jackal as she could, burying her face in his shoulder. Silence fell all too quickly. Jackal really didn’t like how suddenly it happened. Either they had just been saved or something worse had stepped in, crushing the bandits in the process, and he was willing to bet his life that it was the latter-

“Get up. You’re safe now, they’re gone.”

Well. Either way there goes his life.

“Get up.”

Nervous, Jackal cracked open one eye, ears still flattened and a defensive snarl on his face. His claws curled into Fennec’s hair lightly, his dagger held so tightly in his hand his knuckles turned white. The man standing over them was an elf, or at least he looked like one. He had the same ears and the same strange elegance of the elves he had seen before, but his skin was dark grey and his hair stark white, something Jackal had never seen an elf to have. He looked down at the siblings over the wagon’s rail.

“Get up and go. I will let you live this time. You are innocent outsiders caught up in the nightmare that is this city. Go, and you will be safe.”

Fennec barely moved, keeping herself hidden and staring up at the stranger, “W-who are you?”

“Nobody.”

‘Nobody’ slowly moved away from the wagon, untying their horse. He began guiding it back towards the entrance to the back alley they had hidden in, back out onto Tower’s streets. Releasing Fennec from his arms, Jackal surged forward, leaping over the side of their transport and snatched the reins from this strange elf.

“What in hell are you doing? We’re safer here than we are out there! We’ll be a bigger target in an open area, it’s like painting a target on our backs!”

“Enough. You are far safer out of the city altogether,” ‘Nobody’ stared him down, unblinking, “Leave. Before anyone else changes their mind.”

Fennec leant over the side of the wagon, still shaken, “Jackal. We should go,” she urged softly, “I think he’s right. We aren’t safe here.”

It took a moment for Jackal to break eye contact with ‘Nobody’, but he couldn’t deny they were probably right, especially if Fennec agreed with him. This city was far more dangerous than he had anticipated, especially to those unfamiliar with it. If he and Fennec stayed… he was starting to doubt they would last more than a day here. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew they had to keep going. Where they would go, he had no clue. Neither him, nor Fennec knew many of the nearby towns, if any of them at all, but any of them at all had to be safer than here.

“Where do you suggest we go?”

‘Nobody’ looked thoughtful for a moment, a hand moving to rest on his chin, “I would suggest, if you are seeking shelter, Mythcairn. Take the eastern road, it is a long route but it is the safest. You should reach it in three months if you keep a steady pace. I have heard there is someone there who will gladly give you shelter.”

“Who are they?”

“I do not know their name, only that they reside in Mythcairn’s chapel. Seek them out there, and do not tell them how you found out about them.”

Suspicious, Jackal watched ‘Nobody’ closely. He still wasn’t certain whether they could trust this strange elf, but what choice did they have? Fennec was terrified, the city wasn’t safe and anywhere else would most likely be better. He breathed a soft sigh and adjusted his grip on the horse’s harness.

By the time the sun rose, Jackal and Fennec were long gone from Darkstrand City.

Mythcairn… Jackal wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it. It was a nice little town, certainly, nothing more than a small group of houses, shops and a chapel at the middle of it. It didn’t look like much, no more than a smudge on the horizon as they approached, but if ‘Nobody’ was right then there had to be someone who could help them. Jackal was starting to run out of hope. They had been traveling for so long now he was starting to wonder whether leaving Roguerock had been a good idea after all.

When they finally entered the village, neither sibling knew what to expect. The locals stared at them, clearly not used to seeing desert tabaxis in a countryside village like theirs, but they were far friendlier than those in Darkstrand City, and were certainly less crafty than some types Jackal knew back in the desert. He couldn’t help but be grateful for that at least. Mythcairn didn’t have a tavern, strangely enough, so they stopped in at the local blacksmiths. The man working there, a tall warforged made of blackened metal, greeted them with a little bit of wariness, which Jackal could understand. They were complete strangers after all.

The warforged introduced himself as Witraph, a former alchemist turned artificer who had found his home in Mythcairn after fleeing his former research partner. He claimed that what they had heard about the strange person in the chapel was true, and he himself had been helped by them. Witraph explained that he had been stuck running from his ex-partner and had stumbled into Mythcairn completely by accident. The first person to find him was that person, a goliath warlock by the name of Rudzbar. According to the chapel’s acolytes, his patron was also the patron of the whole town, Sarvella, and she had gifted him with the ability to see whether someone was telling the truth or not. Witraph had explained to him briefly what he had been through, and Rudzbar had chosen to believe him, convincing Mythcairn’s council to allow the warforged to stay. Witraph had then used his knowledge of explosive reactions and metal in general to teach himself blacksmithing, which led him up to now, gladly providing for the home he had been given. The chapel itself wasn’t too far from his shop, and he gladly pointed them towards it.

Jackal and Fennec had heard tales about warlocks before. Having never come across one before, since magic was so scarce in this world, they had no idea what to expect. Jackal had heard tell that some warlocks had traded their first born for magical abilities, or had given their soul to eternal damnation to gain something they didn’t really have a right to. This Rudzbar character… he didn’t know what he may be like. Could he be some terrifying vessel for some kind of dark force? A slave to something he didn’t understand?

…Could he be completely normal and Jackal was just jumping the crossbow?

Fennec thanked Witraph for his help while Jackal was lost in thought, and carefully led her brother outside, back to the wagon. She patted his shoulder in reassurance, sensing his worry.

“Steady now, brother. Let’s go see this Rudzbar, alright?”

Jackal could only nod, and led their horse towards the chapel, trying to focus on the soft clicking of hooves on the packed dirt of the road. Right foot, left foot, right, left, right, left, one foot in front of the other. Dirt splattered against the stone doorstep of the chapel as he almost slammed his boot into it and tripped right into the door, catching himself on the frame before his nose could crack from the impact that didn’t happen. The horse snorted, tossing its head, and Fennec giggled behind him, the first light-hearted sound he had really heard from her since they had left Roguerock. He glanced back at her, sending a half-hearted exasperated look her way before he raised his fist to knock.

The echo of Jackal’s unspoken request rang throughout the halls, and he bit the inside of his lip. The wait felt like eternity. The bustle of the little town went silent, at least in his ears, and the rapping of his own knuckles against wood almost felt like a death toll. Fennec hopped down from the wagon, a hand on his shoulder startling him out of the nervous stupor he had trapped himself in, just in time for the door to open.

The man who answered was almost twice Jackal’s height, taller than a regular goliath, one eye covered with a black ribbon and a fur lined hat nestled on his head. Strands of lavender hair poked out from under the fluff, reaching just down to the nape of his neck, and he wore a long black cloak over his civilian clothes. The one visible eye, an almost white shade of silver-grey, looked Jackal up and down, and the tabaxi almost wondered whether there was even anything under the ribbon.

“What is it you want?” the giant stranger spoke, his voice deep and thick with an accent Jackal didn’t recognise. Under the hard stare, his voice caught in his throat and any words he had died on his tongue. He had no idea whether this was Rudzbar or some other goliath also living in the chapel, and he had no experience with magic so there was no way he could possibly sense it on anyone, even if that person was a warlock and made it stupidly obvious.

“Are you Rudzbar?” Fennec jumped in, saving her brother from the embarrassment and panic of attempting to speak, “We were told you could help us.”

The man was silent for a moment, and Jackal’s ears flattened against his head, worried that they had found the wrong guy. Had this all been some kind of elaborate trap? Some way of luring him and Fennec in while they were desperate so strangers could profit off their misfortune? He had his dagger on his hip, so they weren’t defenceless at least, and Fennec was much better at using the crossbow now, but he wasn’t sure how affective that would be against a goliath, especially an oversized one and a warlock to boot.

“Come in. I see you are truthful, so I will help in any way I can.”

…

Wait what?

Jackal paused for a moment, confused. Had they really found the right guy? And if they had, why was he so willing to help them? He knew nothing about them, so how could he know they were telling the truth? Of course, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he followed Fennec inside, leaving their horse to its own devices. The goliath led them into the chapel, past the pews and the altar, into a small alcove at the back, an office perhaps, where things were organised.

“You’re running from something. Something that haunts both of you, and you can’t go home because of it. Am I correct?”

Tail swishing back and forth wildly, Jackal bit the inside of his lip. Were they really so easy to read? How many people were able to tell? The goliath glanced at him, noticing how tense he was, and turned to a small altar behind the office’s desk.

“I mean no offence. You aren’t from around her, tabaxis are rare in these parts, and I’m assuming you wouldn’t willingly leave your home unless you were absolutely forced to, is that right?”

“How did you-“

He raised a hand to interrupt them, “My patron, Sarvella… she reads the souls of newcomers and tells me whether they are truly in need of help or if they have some ulterior motive. You two… she knows what you’ve been through, and she wants me to help. She won’t tell me all the details, not without your permission, but she’s given me a general idea. You were attacked by a force you didn’t understand and fled your home from fear of it striking again.”

Jackal couldn’t deny it. Whoever this ‘Sarvella’ was, she certainly already knew about why he and Fennec were there, and probably about their encounter with ‘Nobody’, whoever they might be. Why she hid this information from her disciple, he didn’t understand.

“So, are you Rudzbar? Are we in the right place?” Fennec asked him, all innocence and nerves.

“I am. Whoever sent you to me was correct. Who did send you?”

One of Jackal’s fangs sank deeper into his lip. ‘Nobody’ had warned them not to tell Rudzbar who had sent them and he really didn’t want to mess up anything, if not for himself for Fennec. This could be their only chance to get any help whatsoever.

“They didn’t tell us their name. Someone in Darkstrand City, they saved us from being attacked one night.”

Rudzbar visibly tensed up, still with his back to the siblings. He definitely knew something about Darkstrand, or at least could make a guess as to who told them about him. He slouched above the altar, muttering something to himself in a language neither Jackal nor Fennec understood. A sudden breeze rushed through the room, seemingly coming in from nowhere; there were no windows and the door had been closed behind them. Jackal’s cloak flapped and slapped against itself, the loud cracking of material filling the tiny room, and the siblings watched in silence as Rudzbar cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, as if resetting his body. He straightened to his full height, easily tall enough for the top of his hat to graze the ceiling, and Jackal instinctively reached for his dagger, just in case.

“Hey, no need for that!”

The voice coming from Rudzbar startled both siblings. It certainly wasn’t his, there was no accent, it was far higher, there was a slight echo to it and it definitely wasn’t masculine in any way. Fennec’s ears went flat in surprise, and Jackal wrapped his tail around hers quickly, his way of reassuring her that he would keep her safe. The goliath slowly turned to face them, his body language far more open than before. His face twisted into a grimace, but quickly fell.

“Ah, by the Reversed… I forgot about that.”

Jackal didn’t drop his stance, but his ears did prick up in confusion. This… wasn’t Rudzbar?

He let out a high-pitched laugh, still in the voice that wasn’t him, “I’m sorry you had to meet me that way. I’m Sarvella, Rud’s patron. I’d smile but… well, bad injuries that don’t heal properly leave some nasty scars, don’t they?”

Fennec perked up, still a little confused, “You… you can speak through him?”

‘Sarvella’ opened Rudzbar’s eye, the grey-white laced with a vibrant pink, “Occasionally, when I can convince him to let me. I figured you weren’t likely to believe him unless he had someone to back him up, so here I am!”

She pushed off of her altar, staggering a little with a giggled “Whoops!”. On very clearly too long legs, ‘Sarvella’ brushed past them to open the door, beckoning them to follow her with a smile that strained against the muscles in Rudzbar’s face.

“Now, let’s see if I can’t get you what you need, hmm?”

It took some time, but Sarvella and Rudzbar secured a place for Jackal and Fennec to stay for a while. They stayed in a small guest house not too far from the chapel, a comfortable little place with more than enough supplies and comfort for a few days. Their horse was sent back to the person they borrowed it from. Sarvella happily offered them a place in the village as a more permanent home, but Jackal wasn’t convinced. He didn’t feel like they were far enough from Roguerock and the collapsed prison of the thing that had attacked Fennec. Yes, they had travelled mile after mile, crossing almost half the continent, but it didn’t feel far enough. They had to keep going.

Though clearly disappointed, Sarvella explained that there was a town further north, towards the northern section of the Western Spires and at the base of Mount Wrynhell. She called it Spiritgate, a town set up only about a hundred years prior to provide homes for those working in the gold mines beneath the mountain. It was said to be a quiet village, one where trouble rarely came knocking, and since the mine closed down and the town turned its focus to farming and brewing as a way to support itself, it had slowly become less and less remarkable and more of a sleepy little hamlet out of the way from the rest of the country. Fennec immediately perked up, liking the idea of a small place where it wasn’t likely that they would be found by anyone. Everyone who knew she and Jackal had been leaving Roguerock had been told they were heading to Darkstrand and wouldn’t know any different, so even if that thing broke out of its prison, it was unlikely to find out anything accurate from any of the locals.

Reluctantly, Jackal agreed to stay in Mythcairn for a little while. He insisted on no more than a week, and Fennec couldn’t help but agree. Rudzbar, Sarvella, Witraph… they already had the town to look after, two tabaxis with a potential link to something far more dark and powerful than any of them was going to be too much for them to handle, as strong as they might be. If that thing came after them again, they didn’t want a bunch of innocent people who had been nothing but friendly to them caught up in it too, and if that did happen, Jackal and Fennec agreed that they would leave Spiritgate and disappear into the wilderness on their own. That way nobody would be dragged down with them. Jackal wasn’t sure if Rudzbar could tell that they weren’t being entirely truthful, or if Sarvella told him what she knew about them, but he didn’t want to stick around too long to find out.

A week later, Rudzbar replaced their horse with one much more accustomed to travelling with a heavy load. He told them that her name was Marble and she was a packhorse, able to pull their wagon easily and for long distances. He and Jackal carefully loaded their bags, and to the latter’s surprise, he offered a blessing from both himself and Sarvella, one that would hopefully protect them for some time at least and would give them good fortune on their journey to Spiritgate. While Jackal was uncertain, Fennec insisted that anything was better than going off on their own, and so Sarvella took over, reciting an incantation and sending a gentle wave of magic over them. Jackal nervously thanked her, before turning to see Witraph handing Fennec a longbow, having spent a little time with her and learning a few of her skills. She plucked the bowstring a couple of times, took the quiver of arrows and slung it over her shoulder, before hopping into the wagon and waving to the townsfolk. Jackal glanced over their map, took Marble’s reigns, and began leading her away from Mythcairn.

Spiritgate took a long while to reach, almost four months at the steady pace Jackal kept alongside Marble, and true to Sarvella’s words, it was a very quiet little village. Unfortunately, Jackal and Fennec arrived at a very, very awkward time. They were quick to notice the very tense atmosphere hanging over the whole town, from the Six Crow Inn to the Market Square to the old, ruined house on the way to the graveyard in the north. At their first stop, the Six Crow Inn, the halfling barkeep and owner, Anna Horner gave them the general rundown, and warned them to keep an eye on each other if they wanted to stay safe.

Two days prior, two people had been brutally murdered and burned in their house, and their two daughters had disappeared.

Jackal and Fennec had barely been in Spiritgate for two weeks before three more incidents of murder and disappearances occurred, and the local noble finally sent somebody to investigate. According to Anna and their new friend Alexis, the so-called ‘witch’ of Spiritgate, multiple people reported the first three to Count Godefroy, but it was only the day after the fourth that help actually arrived. They came snooping around the Market in the early afternoon, a group of three elves, a half elf and a tiefling, and came almost straight to them, claiming Anna had told them that he and Fennec may be able to point them in the right direction. Jackal couldn’t be sure whether she was accusing him of somehow being responsible for the killings despite not even being in the town when the first one happened or even knowing what had been going on, but Fennec gave him a nudge and he reluctantly agreed to help. At the very least, the tiefling, Rormunn, and one of the elves, Elefie, seemed nice enough. What he wasn’t happy about, however, was they asked him and Fennec to come with them, even after almost reminding her of the nightmare she had been through in the desert.

Despite all this, Fennec convinced him to go along with them, even if it was just for some kind of closure. Before this strange group had arrived, Jackal conducted his own little investigation of the crime scenes, but the strange atmosphere there that made his skull feel like it was about to implode from pressure forced him away time and time again. He had to wait a few days before actually going close to them to investigate, and while he spoke to Rormunn about what had been going on, he let slip that the atmosphere felt more like a familiar presence. That was the single sentence that dragged him and Fennec into the craziness of this investigation.

The group rejoined him and Fennec on the outskirts to the local graveyard to investigate the ruined house there, which was burned beyond recognition. From what Anna told them, and she had certainly told the investigators too, it used to be the home of a big family, the name of which most of the town had forgotten. Three years ago, the family had been killed in a fire, survived only by the youngest daughter, Loralei, who had been seven at the time. Anna had mentioned that she thought she saw Loralei living on the streets at times, but was never sure what happened to her, since every time she tried to approach the girl she ran away before the halfling could get close. Jackal, despite rarely sleeping at night and constantly being on watch for anything that could hurt him or Fennec, never saw her either. It was almost like she was a ghost, disappearing from everyone’s sight whenever she pleased.

Whatever. That wasn’t really at the forefront of Jackal’s mind, not while they were searching through this strange place. Rormunn was examining some old symbol on the only wall still standing, Yenn, another elf, by his side and running some magical checks on it or something, he didn’t care to know. Willow, the half elf, stood outside with Fi, the last of the party, watching torn shirts splattered with crusted brown and red flap in the remains of a mountain breeze. When asked, he told them he didn’t know the symbol, but he had a bad feeling about this place. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Fennec tensing and turning, dashing through the opening where the door had once been, her hands clenched into fists, signs he knew all too well. Reacting quickly, he followed her, chasing the tip of her tail up the hill, towards the graveyard.

The ensuing battle felt… strange. The blinding spice powder Jackal had experimented with had no effect on Rormunn or Fi, and he kept missing every single cursed shot with his crossbow. He knew that he didn’t have much reason to fight them, especially being five against one, two if you counted Fennec since she was dragged in too (she was actually doing better than he was, having managed to hit Fi with an arrow, while he had been attacked by a baboon Yenn had summoned and took an arrow to the hip immediately afterwards), but really, could anyone blame him? His sister, the most important person in his life, was yanked out of her comfort zone and straight into yet another mystery that neither of them wanted any part of. It was like they were trapped in some cruel cycle, doomed to constantly be involved in something that would likely only end in their deaths.

Jackal notched his last bolt to his crossbow, ducking back behind a gravestone. This one had to hit, he didn’t like getting in close enough to use his shortsword or his daggers, but he would if he had to. With Fi and Willow distracted by Fennec, and Elefie, Romunn and Yenn currently unaware of where he was, he carefully poked his head out, aiming at Willow’s leg. Not a vital place to kill, but enough to slow her down and distract the others, since she was their strongest healer. He took a deep breath, bracing his finger to pull the trigger. A sudden shout caught him off guard, and he flinched as the bolt flew from his crossbow, thudding into the mud several feet away from his target. Turning, Jackal gritted his teeth in frustration, watching as Rormunn, who was a good couple of inches taller than him, came sprinting closer, leaping over the gravestone between them, hand outstretched to grapple him. On instinct, the tabaxi twisted, grabbing his attacker’s wrist and flipping him over his shoulder, dropping him into the grass behind him. Snarling, Jackal wrestled him down, holding him there in a desperate attempt to maybe, just maybe, have some leverage over the others. His face was barely inches away from the tiefling’s, and he watched as the golden eyes with no pupil filled with some kind of panic he didn’t recognise.

“Call them off.”

“W-wha-“ Rormunn tried to speak, tripping over his words and frantically trying to piece together something to say.

“Call them off! All of them!”

Jackal didn’t hold back the angry snarl that left his mouth as Rormunn choked on his own words over and over again. He knew at least Yenn and Elefie’s eyes were on him, but Fi and Willow… he wasn’t so sure about them. His ears twitched, catching a muffled cry and a rough thump of bodies colliding with mud and earth over in Fi’s direction, and he glanced over, his grip loosening in shock. Somehow, Fi had managed to get close enough to Fennec to tackle her and pin her down, just as he had done with Munn. Something inside Jackal snapped. Fennec was in danger, immediate danger, and he wasn’t close enough to save her.

So he let go.

He released Rormunn, leaping to his feet and dropping into the fastest sprint he could manage, a hand going for his dagger. The mud beneath him splattered everywhere as he ran to his sister’s aid. Ears flattened, tail waving in panic behind him, Jackal pushed himself hard, desperate to shove Fi off her, only to slip on the slick ground, losing his footing and tumbling towards the ground. A body appeared in front of him, blocking his view of Fennec and Fi, and an arm latched under his chest and stomach, staggering a little from the impact. He didn’t know who it was, one of the spellcasters most likely since they appeared out of nowhere, and he let out a wild howl of anger and frustration, followed by a wide slash of his claws that missed by a mile.

“Steady, steady. We aren’t gonna hurt either of you.”

The voice in his ear was cold, but not uncaring. Elefie. Jackal had caught her off guard earlier, surprised her with a shoddily thrown together charm, an attempt to not cast suspicion on him and his sister. Heh, look where that had gotten them. Writhing around in the mud like a pair of worms trying to escape a blackbird. The damn investigators had won. It was over. Defeated and exhausted, Jackal tried to reach for Fennec, completely missing Fi letting her get up, and strained against Elefie’s hold, the last of his strength fading from his aching muscles.

He didn’t know exactly what happened after that. The last of his resolve shattered, and the next thing he realised once his thoughts had reconnected themselves, Fennec was guiding him back down the hill, promising him some of Anna’s spiced cider to calm him down.

It was several hours before they met the investigators again. Jackal stayed in the Six Crow Inn the entire time, slowly sipping from a tankard of spiced cider, a combination Anna had come up with, thanks to Fennec giving her some cinnamon and a couple of other spices she and Jackal had left over from the market. Darkness had fallen outside, and the tavern had slowly filled up with locals, most of whom ignored the two tabaxis. They had no idea what had happened, not in the graveyard, not in Mythcairn, Darkstrand, not in Roguerock, and Jackal had no intention of telling them, not even Anna or Alexis. He kept his hands wrapped tightly around his warm tankard, ears drooping. If anyone looked over, he didn’t really care for what they thought. He didn’t have the energy for it.

The door to the Six Crow Inn opened for the twentieth time that night, letting in a familiar group of chattering elves, a half-elf and a tiefling. Willow, Yenn and Elefie were deep in discussion together, while Fi took a seat at the bar and began talking to her instead, probably ordering drinks for everybody. Rormunn, on the other hand, glanced around the room, surveying everyone inside. He caught sight of Jackal, much to the latter’s dismay, and came over immediately after Fi passed him a drink. Fennec lightly patted the back of Jackal’s hand, noticing Rormunn approaching, and got up, heading over to talk to Anna herself. Nervous, Jackal almost reached out to grab her wrist, to make her stay with him so he didn’t need to deal with Rormunn alone, but he was too late. She was already out of reach.

The tiefling offered him a small smile, asking if he could join Jackal, who barely shrugged in response. At this point, he didn’t know whether he cared enough or not to feel anything at all. Rormunn started talking, his words going into one of Jackal’s ears and immediately out the other. Not even half of what he said registered in the tabaxi’s mind, so he just nodded along, hoping it would get Rormunn to leave him alone. At the very least, his unexpected companion didn’t seem to hold any grudge against him, despite all he had put the whole group. The fight was his fault after all, yet none of them seemed to be holding it against him. They really should be.

Jackal didn’t realise at the time, but several of the locals had suddenly got up, dashing through the tavern’s door. It was only when the panicked shouting got to such a level that he had to cover his ears to try and think properly that he realised both Fennec and Rormunn were tugging on his arms, trying to get him up.

“Get up, brother! There’s another fire!”

Another one? The previous one had only been a night before… And if they were getting more frequent that could only mean one thing. Jackal’s legs kicked into gear far faster than his mind did, and he sprinted to the village well, the closest source of water there was. He got there faster than most of the farmers; by the time two of them had stopped gawking at the burning cottage barely five steps away from the market square and come to help, he already had three buckets worth of water ready for them to take to try and put out the blaze. Despite the straining of getting the water bucket up and down the well, he noticed two elves running up the hill in pursuit of two figures he didn’t recognise. A wave of water poured down onto the burning house, dropped from thin air by one of Elefie’s spells, quenching most of the flames. Jackal hefted the last bucket he had filled and hauled it over to the final embers right outside the door, running entirely on adrenaline, before dumping it over them and hunching over, panting heavily. The bucket fell from his hands, and he was the first one to finally get a look at the crime scene. What he saw, however… it made him want to hurl.

Two more bodies stabbed and mutilated as if attacked by a madman, and the same cursed symbol on the far wall, painted in fresh blood.

That was it. Jackal knew the symbol and he recognised the strange atmosphere now. Adrenaline had pushed him closer to a fresh crime scene than he had ever been before. The same creature who had kidnapped and almost killed his sister was to blame for all these deaths, and this time he would not stand by and let it continue. That monster needed destroying once and for all, not trapped underground in a cavern where it could just wait out the years until somebody was foolish enough to poke their nose where it didn’t belong. He refused to let history repeat itself. As soon as he could see the investigators had regrouped, he approached them, insisting that he join them in investigating the two figures they had seen fleeing the scene. Willow, Yenn, Fi and even to some extent Elefie all looked hesitant, but something seemed to click with Rormunn. He grabbed hold of Yenn’s arm and gave her a look, one Jackal didn’t really recognise, and she sighed and nodded.

Fennec must have noticed what was going on, as she joined them barely a minute later. She knew just by looking at Jackal exactly what he was thinking and that there was no way even she could stop him. She breathed a soft sigh of relief and told the investigators everything she and Jackal knew about the creature that had caused all these deaths. In response, Elefie told her that they believed its name was Okomod, and it was the same thing Spiritgate’s founders had made a deal with, causing them to strike gold under Mount Wrynhell. It was likely Fennec and Jackal weren’t the only ones who had been targeted by whatever kind of creature it was, but they had been the ones who survived.

He wasn’t sure what exactly convinced the others to let him join, but Jackal found himself trekking back up the hill to the graveyard alongside Rormunn, who had cast some kind of spell that could make everyone stronger. Fennec had handed him a little bundle of bags of spices to act as little ‘blinding bombs’ as she called them, before ducking back to help Anna and Alexis try and regroup the townsfolk. He couldn’t help but wonder if she came up with that from watching him improvising during battles back in Roguerock. Either way, they could come in useful. Elefie led the group up to the crypt for the Founders of Spiritgate, ducking behind the altar there and stopping in surprise. There, hidden in plain sight, was a trapdoor that clearly none of the investigators had noticed before. A wooden ladder descended into the darkness of the stone corridor below, with still wet, muddy marks on the rungs leading down. Whoever was down there had only just got back.

“We have to go down there, don’t we?”

Willow looked nervous when Jackal looked over at her. He didn’t like it either, going into a tightly enclosed cavern with one way in. But he was going to face whatever it was, one way or another.

“I’ll go first,” he growled, and slid down the ladder before they could stop him.

The tunnel Jackal had landed in had been an old mine shaft, blocked off from the gold mine by a cave in, and in it, all the children who had gone missing during the murders of their parents. They were all huddled up either in their supply area or in the cavern they slept in, and the majority did seem to have realised what was going on or that their parents were dead, only saying that ‘Big Sister’ had brought them here to keep them safe. Jackal couldn’t help but feel a little pity for them. He and Fennec didn’t know much about their parents either and had grown up fending for themselves. This ‘Big Sister’ character… he had no idea who that could be. Was it possible it was Loralei? And if it was, how was she connected to the monster?

Venturing deeper into the tunnels, Rormunn had led them into a much larger cave, one decorated with carvings of symbols and strange drawings of dark things Jackal wished he hadn’t seen. This place looked far too similar to the one he had found Fennec in, right down to the stone altar at the centre. A young girl, no older than ten, stood on top of it, turning when she heard them come in. She was pale and thin, unhealthily so, and was wearing a tattered grey shirt that came down to below her knees like some kind of robe. Her hair was a tangled mess, long and unkempt and thinning in places. Her eyes were grey, like a storm, and they didn’t have any feeling behind them. When she spoke, her voice trembled and echoed around the cavern as she told everyone about how her family hurt her for being weak and small, and how she had met Okomod on her seventh birthday after her father kicked her out of the house in a drunken rage. Willow claimed that her past mistreatment wasn’t an excuse for what she had done, but the girl simply laughed, saying that she had saved the children from the fate she had suffered, before plunging an ornate dagger into the pedestal she stood upon and calling upon Okomod. A purple sheen spread over her body like armour, and a shield sparking with violet energy spread from a symbol on the back of her hand, one Jackal partially recognised. He had seen the monster trying to draw that symbol on Fennec.

This was the fate he had saved her from almost 4 years prior. The monster must have failed to use her and had then moved around the continent searching for someone else they could use instead.

He didn’t have the chance to react, not when the girl screamed her own name, Loralei, proclaimed that she was Okomod’s herald and allowed him to take over her body. Immediately, her eyes rolled back and began to glow a deep shade of magenta, lifting her into the air like a ragdoll. The voice that came out of her mouth was nothing like the soft, shaking one that she had spoken in less than a minute before.

“My my, if it isn’t an old foe of mine. Perhaps I should make use of you this time instead of your weakling sister.”

Jackal didn’t have time to react as Loralei’s body pointed her dagger straight at him, a bolt of light hit him square in the chest, and he blacked out.

While unconscious, Jackal had the occasional moment where he was barely seeing what was going on around him. From what he could gather, Okomod had knocked him out and used whatever magic he had given Loralei to use him as a puppet. During the short period where he could see, he had his dagger at the throat of one of the investigators, or had his crossbow aimed at the head of another, or had just been struck by a bolt of magic by Elefie or Rormunn. The battle was long over when he fully came to, nursing a throbbing migraine and a nasty wound in his side. The tiefling was sat over him, carefully wrapping bandages around his injury and mopping up any blood that escaped. He groaned, ears flattening in pain.

“Steady now. It’s over,” Rormunn’s smile was surprising to the tabaxi, though not unwelcome. Jackal looked over towards the others, seeing Willow crouching beside a weeping Loralei as Fi and Yenn looked after the other children, and Elefie set about destroying the pedestal and symbols all around the cavern.

“Why… why let her live?”

Rormunn chuckled a little, carefully helping him to his feet, “Well, we figured that it wasn’t her really doing the killing. She doesn’t have memories of the deaths, only of leading the kids to safety, and even then she was tricked into thinking that their parents were bad people.”

A thousand questions rushed through Jackal’s mind, “That doesn’t change what she did.”

“No, but she’ll likely end up living with the guilt. She’s a good kid, she just got caught up in something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place if not for her own family and the trickster nature of anyone from the Reverse.”

Jackal groaned as he stumbled a little, listening to Rormunn mumbled something about them not having any spells left after the battle and apologising for not being able to heal him fully. He shook his head, not really caring about coming out unscathed. He kind of expected that anyway, so it didn’t bother him.

“Is… Is it gone?”

His tiefling friend nodded, a tired smile flashing in his direction, “Gone, dead, destroyed, back where it belongs, whatever word you want to use. It’s gone and I doubt it’ll be back during our lifetimes.”

The tabaxi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The creature was gone. Fennec was safe, and that was all that really mattered. Their nightmare was finally over.

At least, this one was. Jackal didn’t know it at the time, but he would end up traveling with the investigators, going to places all around the continent, from Tower to Darkstrand to Mythcairn back to Roguerock and beyond. But of course, that is a story for another time.

Above: Jackal (left) and Fennec (right) as drawn by my partner, Alexis.

#dnd backstory #one shot #drabble #character study #tabaxi #dnd characters #dnd oc

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