Life of the Party D&D Oneshots

Temples, Taverns, and Tact | Part One

OC: Pat (they/ them) — Cleric — 23 — half-elf

The teleportation charm worked quickly, sure, but it was far from comfortable. Boblem looked quite green when they landed in the unfamiliar temple, and Vanden had never been quite so pale. Except, perhaps, when he'd managed to get run through and thrown off a balcony. He'd been rather pale then.

"That was fun," Elyse said sarcastically, leaning heavily on one of the horses. The rest of the Party, excluding Boblem, of course, glared at her.

"Aha!"

The entirety of the Dawnbringers flinched as a loud voice echoed around the barren stone walls. "Welcome! I assume you are the Dawnbringers of Shadeborne?" A younger half-elf stood in the doorway, their face stretched in a wide smile.

Vanden stepped forward, colour now returning to his face. "We are. I'm Prince Vanden of Mirrortail." He gestured to the others in turn. "This is Astra, Elyse, Sariel, Boblem, and —"

They all saw him at the same time. Cassian was slumped against the wall behind the teleportation circle, head hanging, eyes closed.

"Cassian!" Vanden lurched forward, followed immediately by Sariel and then the others. Vanden crouched down and checked his pulse. It was completely normal. Sariel sat on her heels beside him, hands folded in her lap.

"He's . . . meditating." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Sort of. It's like he's in a trance."

The cleric, by that point, had managed to squeeze their way to the front of the Party. They didn't look particularly worried. "He's been summoned by a god. Or, perhaps a powerful spirit. I cannot say."

They made their way back to the door, smile back on their face. "Come, I will show you to your rooms. We could only spare three here in the temple, so you will be sharing. But, we were told you wouldn't be staying long." They gestured to Cassian. "He can rest in one of the rooms. I'll send an acolyte to keep an eye on him. And someone will bring the horses to the stables shortly."

Vanden hesitated, but, in the end, picked Cassian up without too much trouble. He carried him, bridal-style, through the halls of the temple.

Elyse was, quite visibly, uncomfortable with their location. She seemed to switch between keeping her head bowed in reverence and, perhaps, a bit of fear, and between keeping her chin up, looking sharply from painting to stone glass to the acolytes.

"So," Vanden asked, Cassian's dead weight beginning to take a toll. "May I ask your name?"

Without turning around, the cleric called out, "Patroclus. But you may call me Pat. Everyone does."

Pat stopped in front of a small corridor lined with doors. "Your rooms are the last three on the left." With that, they turned and left, most likely going back to the main room.

Vanden, without waiting for the others, made his way to the first of their rooms. He managed to awkwardly turn the handle, what with the man in his arms, and go inside. It was a modest room. A wash basin, a mirror, a furnace, a bedside table, a bed, and a wardrobe. Vanden dropped Cassian down on the bed, unceremoniously. The others made their way into the room.

"So," Astra began. "Who's okay rooming with who?"

"I recon, at this point, we're all pretty comfortable," Sariel admitted.

Elyse shrugged. "I don't care as long as I can run the furnace all night. It's cold as hell here."

"Well yes," Cassian, eyes still closed, stretched not unlike a cat. "That would be because we've gone about as far north as we can." One eye popped open and looked Vanden up and down. Whether he was looking at the man himself or the stylized clothes he wore was up to the interpreter. "Perhaps we should've gone South."