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Chapter Text

The next morning dawned dim and grey, the clouds portending more rain. Gilmore did his best to appear awake while Sherri sat across the kitchen table, wolfing down what remained of the leftovers from dinner last night. “This really takes me back to Abdar’s Promenade,” she said, wiping a tear. Having a suspicion that her crying was not entirely brought on by sentiment, Gilmore poured her a glass of the doogh he had prepared for breakfast. “Do you think we’ll ever see it again?” she asked. “The old shop the way it used to be?” 

“I sincerely hope so,” Gilmore told her. “But no time soon, I imagine.” He reminded Sherri to save some food for Pike, who joined them a short time later. 

Gilmore and Pike had just finished resetting the barrier for the day when a messenger arrived from the castle. “The regent requests your presence,” the page said. “Seeker Assum has escaped from Emon and wishes to debrief the council as soon as possible.” Gilmore turned to look at Sherri.

“Assum’s alive?” she asked in surprise. 

“So it would seem.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Pike asked, excited. “Let’s go see how he is!” Sherri stayed behind while Gilmore flew Pike and himself up to the castle and the war room. With half the city’s mages along with Vox Machina and Kima away, what remained of the council was Cassandra, Salda, Eskil, Keeper Yennen, Jarett, and the two of them. At this hour, Jarett was still sleeping, so they entered to find less than half the council present, listening to one Assum Emring spin his tale of having escaped the occupied ruin of Emon. 

There was just one problem: that was not Assum. 

Just as they were about to enter the room, Gilmore gripped Pike’s shoulders, jerking her back against him. Pike glanced up at Gilmore to see what was wrong. He pulled her aside, out of earshot of those in the room. “He may have been sent as a spy for Thordak,” Gilmore whispered. 

“What?” Pike looked like she didn’t want to believe it. “You really think so?” 

“Why would the dragon have allowed him to escape now, after so many weeks?” 

“I don’t know,” Pike said. “Maybe Thordak slipped?”

“Just in case, let’s do our best not to share any information with him. At least until we know more. Spy or not, he should have enough to tell us that we shouldn’t have to do much more than listen this first meeting.” 

Pike nodded. “Alright. But I sure hope you’re wrong.” 

“I’m not wrong,” Gilmore said, resigned. “Much as I would like to be in this case.” They entered the war room together, and Gilmore made certain to interrupt the conversation before any more might be revealed. “Brother!” he greeted “Assum” in Marquesian. “My heart is glad to see you alive and well after all this time!”

Gilmore was hoping to trip up the imposter with a foreign language, and he thought he’d done it when “Assum” paused, awkwardly. But after no more than a beat, the imposter rose and embraced Gilmore, offering a traditional greeting. “Gilmore! My dear friend! Not as well as when we last met.” He indicated the chemical burns that had left scars marring his face tattoos. “But well enough.”

“Of course you remember Pike,” Gilmore said in Common. 

“Ah yes, Pike. So good to see you again, young lady.” “Assum” said. 

From the look on her face, even Pike seemed suspicious after that. But she pasted on a smile. “Assum! We’re glad you’re okay!” She walked over to her council chair and climbed up into it. “Gosh, I don’t think we’ve seen you since…” she looked to Gilmore. 

“Well, it would have been that night...yes, that last night we all had dinner together at the keep.”

“Yeah, that one!” Pike chirped. 

“Ah yes,” “Assum” pretended to remember. “Dinner at the keep. What jolly times those were.” When Gilmore sat down next to Pike, she grabbed his hand and squeezed hard enough to make his knuckles pop. Now they both knew. But what did they really know? Assum was an imposter, yes. But what did that mean? And where was the real Assum?

Gilmore spent the next two hours doing his best to subvert any attempts the other councillors made to share information about Whitestone and their plans with “Assum”. Over and over again, he had to concoct new questions regarding the details of “Assum”’s escape. About what Thordak was up to, the state of Emon and its people, the palace, the number of lizard folk Thordak had in his service, how many wyverns, etc. 

And all the while, Gilmore did his best to examine the imposter. Was it a magical disguise? If so, it was nearly perfect. The details of Assum’s chemical burns seemed strange. Those were not burns from a red dragon’s fire breath. Not to mention, the last time Gilmore had seen Assum, he had borne no such scars. How would Assum have come upon such burns if he’d been in Emon all this time? 

Shortly after Pike was called away to assist with something at the new temple construction site, Gilmore worked it out. It was the affinity humming inside his body as from the distant strike of a tuning fork that gave it away. And the lingering molecules of acrid smoke only a dragon’s sense of smell could have detected. Raishan was good. Not only was her disguise near indetectable, she’d known precisely whom to impersonate in order to get quick access to the most powerful people in the city. 

He was still contemplating a subtle way to let Raishan know that he knew when Gilmore felt a Plane Shift spell complete somewhere in the city below. Oh gods. What timing. Perhaps he could reach Vox Machina and warn them before they walked into the war room, unsuspecting. 

Hello, uncle, a foreign voice spoke inside his head. Gilmore turned to meet “Assum”’s eerie green eyes. In the background, Eskil was droning on about something. I see you’ve found me out. I hope you’re not thinking of betraying me to your friends. Surely you wouldn’t do that to one of your own kind.   

So she had seen through his disguise just as he’d seen through hers. Stalemate. Tell me where my friend Assum is, and perhaps I’ll reconsider.

Your halfling “friend” is even now hiding beneath the city of Emon, working with the Clasp to undermine the Cinder King’s authority. He is quite well. 

And why should I believe you? Gilmore asked her. 

Come now, uncle. You and I are family. Do you think I care enough about the life of one puny mortal to lie to you about it?

Tell me why I should trust you, then, Gilmore said.

Because Thordak’s army flies east as we speak, and I could tear your pathetic illusion to shreds in moments. But I won’t. Now that I know you’re here--Out of respect for you, uncle. 

You’re lying, he said.

Care to wager the lives of everyone in Whitestone on that?

She had him. She had him, and there was nothing Gilmore could do. And now they were all literally at the mercy of Raishan’s whimsy. Perhaps if she’d come a few days ago, before Gilmore had given up so much of his power to the barrier, when he might have stood a chance at taking her on, when Allura and Drake and Kima had still been here… Somehow, Gilmore thought the timing of Raishan’s arrival had been no coincidence. 

If what you say is true, then tell them. Tell them Thordak’s army is on its way.

She smiled at him, and it was a smug, evil smile. Very well. And she did. 

It wasn’t long before Vox Machina were there in the doorway, covered in some kind of black tar and stench, looking at Raishan in bewilderment. She made a point of addressing them before any of the council could speak, perhaps nervous that Gilmore would change his mind about their agreement. 

He listened to the lie she told about how Assum had gotten his scars, just vague enough that folk like Vox Machina would not ask questions. The scarring seemed to invoke quite a bit of sympathy from them as well. She was good. 

Gilmore eavesdropped when Cassandra greeted her brother. They’d found the bow, which was good news, and something about a title--oh yes. The barony Percival had awarded Vex’ahlia to bolster her self-confidence after that devastating visit to their father. What a clever move on Percy’s part. Gilmore could sense Vex’ahlia’s attitude had warmed toward him considerably since he’d last seen them.

When Vex produced the Wrath of the Fey Warden, Gilmore’s interest was immediately piqued, as was Raishan’s. “Very good,” Gilmore congratulated her. 

“I would love for you to take a look at it, Shaun,” Vex’ahlia told him, holding the bow out.

He quickly took it from her before “Assum” could ask to see it. “I would love to have a look at it.” Gilmore sat back to examine the legendary weapon. A heavy sense of loss and resentment lingered on the object; there was a story there. As he held it, the wood began to move, wrapping back around one of his hands. As if Gilmore needed any more surprises today. “That’s weird,” he said, nervously, making the twins and Percy laugh.

Once their brief greeting was done, Cassandra invited Vox Machina to join them and listen to what “Assum” had to tell them. Gilmore focused on the bow, tuning out Raishan’s speech, which he’d already heard several times now. How much of it was true? He wondered. And why had she really come to Whitestone? Was she the advance party, sent to set things up for the arrival of Thordak and his army? Gilmore wondered if she really meant to call off her plan now that she’d recognized him. It seemed too easy. And uncharacteristically altruistic for a chromatic dragon. 

He listened as Vox Machina asked the destination of Thordak’s army. This time, Raishan named two alternate cities. That made Gilmore wonder. Was the red army headed toward Whitestone or not? And if not, would Vox Machina’s underground bunker in Westruun survive the onslaught of Thordak’s army? Gilmore noted that Raishan mentioned Tophor this time in her retelling of the survivors. He made a mental note to ask her about Tophor as well. 

Gilmore rolled his eyes when Vax asked about their old keep. As if a building were what really mattered when thousands of mortals were at the mercy of a red dragon. He listened as Raishan admitted, humbly, that she’d done so little for the city of Emon. He was very tempted to say something shady, but now was not the time.

Then Keyleth cleverly asked about the whereabouts of the white and green dragons, having no idea she was asking Raishan about her own whereabouts. Her micro-expression before Raishan began to answer was amusing. In fact, she seemed at so much of a loss that she glanced over at Gilmore, perhaps daring him to say something.

Gilmore kept a straight face, carefully placing the bow on the table. “Well, first and foremost, this is a glorious piece. I could only hope to eventually create something of its majesty.” He passed it back to Vex’ahlia before Raishan got any bright ideas. “A bit creepy in ways, but I think you’ll make good use of it. Once we completed the barrier--which takes quite a bit of concentration each day to maintain, though Pike has been of great aid to me; between the arcane and divine magics, I think we found a fine balance. Hopefully. 

“But anyway, I’ve been putting the rest of my energies towards trying to procure this information. The green, Raishan, as I believe you told me...” He fixed his eyes on her as he spoke, “...eludes my watch, my gaze. There is a lot of…” He waved his hand in a circle, aimed right at the disguised dragon in question. “...protection around that one. I get the sense that, of those in the conclave, she is probably the most trained in my arts.” She gave him the ghost of a nod, “Assum” agreeing with this new information. 

Vex’ahlia said that made sense, as Raishan was the one who’d released Thordak. “She’s on my shit list,” Keyleth announced with her usual tact and aplomb, pulling a laugh from Gilmore at the look on “Assum”’s face. 

“I think she’s on a lot of people’s shit lists,” he said. “Mine as well.” He probably shouldn’t be having this much fun at Raishan’s expense, but this had been her idea. “The white, however--I know not its name,” he lied. “But I was able to look towards it. I was able to find it sitting amongst a large pile of rock and rubble, in what looks like a fallen city, crumbled and destroyed. From what I saw there were smoldering ruins, toppled landscapes of buildings and temples, arcane crystals crashed and cracked deep inside a ravine. There the white dragon perched, setting out this slow rolling winter amongst what seemed to be a shivering horde of dragonborn.” He chose not to share the extent of the slaughter. It was a hard thing to have to describe, and he didn’t want to give Raishan the satisfaction of seeing his grief.  

Vox Machina immediately erupted with concern. “Draconia?” Vex’ahlia asked.

“What remains of it,” Gilmore confirmed. He watched as the horror and fear dawned on all of them. But he refused to be the bearer of such news. Not now. Not in the presence of the enemy. As they questioned him about his vision, Gilmore kept it vague and as reassuring as he could. 

Keyleth asked if he’d seen all of this through a simple scrying spell, clearly having her own ideas about scrying. Percy warned that they had to be careful scrying lest Whitestone be discovered. If they only knew. Gilmore kept his eyes on Raishan, challenging her to say anything. She just...smiled.

Not a minute later, there were heavy footfalls from the hall and two of the castle guards burst in, shouting for Cassandra. Gilmore stood, hearing the heavy beat of dragon’s wings approaching the city. He turned to Raishan, glaring bloody murder. No one else had heard it before then, but now the dragon chose to make his presence known, roaring his approaching fury. It was not Thordak. Gilmore would have recognized his voice. That only left one other it could possibly be. 

“Gilmore, does the screen keep us hidden?” Vex’ahlia asked, frightened. Gilmore turned to look at her. They were in so much trouble. Any other day, he would have replied more confidently, but not now. Not with an enemy in their midst. Raishan could easily sabotage all of his hard work at any time. 

“We’re about to find out, aren’t we?” He looked back at Raishan. 

Why, you look nervous, uncle.

Gilmore was about to reply when Vax gripped his arm, startling him. “What about the bow?” he asked. “Is there anything you can tell us about the bow?” 

Truly? Was he asking about such a petty thing at a time like this? Apparently all of the boy’s sense had gone out the window since they’d last spoken. “In due time,” Gilmore replied. “Keep it at the ready.” But of course, Vex’ahlia had already grabbed it as she’d run out the doors with Grog. Vax followed his sister, and then Keyleth and the two de Rolos started to debate a strategy to protect the city. The roar came again, closer this time, and all of them ran for the stairs.

Chapter Text

The roar came again, closer this time, and all of them ran for the stairs.

All of them but Gilmore. Gilmore stayed where he was, eyes locked on Raishan. “You will not interfere. I have your word on this?” 

“What, and miss the chance to watch you struggle?” She laughed. “You honored your part of the bargain, and I will honor mine.” She stood, walking casually to the door. “What is it the humans say? ‘Good luck’, uncle.” Then, before his eyes, Raishan shapeshifted into his duplicate and followed behind the others.  

But Gilmore had no time to worry about that. He made his way to the highest tower, climbing out into the wintry air, grown even colder with the approach of the white dragon’s army. Did this mean Raishan had been lying about Thordak’s army? Or was his army even now destroying Kymal in a coordinated attack? Well, Gilmore only had the ability to save one city right now, and it was going to take everything he had.

Seeing as well as hearing the army approaching now, Gilmore focused, spreading his arms wide as though he could hold the barrier physically. He went into a meditative state, tuning out the psychic pinpricks of fear and terror from the city below so that they would not disrupt his working. Slowly, Gilmore began to spin the barrier thicker so that it would better contain any sound from the city below. A visual illusion was nothing if the white dragon’s forces could still hear the screams of the mortals beneath it. 

He could feel the horde approaching, the displacement of air by many wings. Gilmore felt Vorugal looking, scenting, searching for them. And that was perfect. It meant he did not know for certain where they were. So whatever Raishan had told him, his perception could still be manipulated. Gilmore just hoped she would keep her word and let what would be happen on its own. Right now, this was a contest between Gilmore’s magic and the white drake’s hunting skill. And that was a contest he thought he could win, so long as no one in the city below did anything stupid. 

The sounds from the people of Whitestone quieted, and that helped. Gilmore continued to build the illusion, adding fine detail to the empty stretch of mountains the white dragon saw below him instead of the city, all of the scents of the wilderness that matched the rest of the Alabaster Sierras. The wyverns and their riders began to sound off to one another, reporting back their findings, which were negative. Gilmore felt they were close to giving up, and it gave him hope, but he pushed on, as sweat poured down his body. 

With his peripheral attention, Gilmore watched Vorugal’s forces call retreat and take off in formation, leaving the valley. He did not know how long he remained there, holding the spell, but Gilmore refused to let go even an ounce of his concentration until he was sure they would not return. 

“Looks like the spell worked.” Gilmore heard Grog approaching with a smile in his voice.

“Good work,” Vax said from somewhere in Grog’s vicinity.

“Gilmore!” Vex touched his arm, her voice shaking. “Good job.” And that was when he finally began to relax. 

Gilmore lowered his arms and stepped down from the platform, enfolding Vex’ahlia in an exhausted embrace. They both seemed to need it. “I’m going to need a spa day, because I’m done,” he told them.

“Where’s Pike?” Vex’ahlia asked, and the entire group took off in search of the cleric, abandoning Gilmore as quickly as they’d come. Grog lingered behind to pick him up in a great hug before he followed the others, and Gilmore patted the goliath on the back, grateful but exhausted. It was too bad Vax’ildan had not seen fit to do the same, but Gilmore was too tired to feel depressed about it. 

He leaned heavily on his cane as he made his way down the stairs of the high tower. Gilmore was hobbling across the battlements when he heard Jarett’s familiar, rapid footfalls in the distance. Jarett pulled Gilmore into a crushing hug and just held him for long moments. “You did this,” he said, his fragile mortal body trembling much as Vex’ahlia’s had been just now. “I don’t care what anyone says. You did this.” He kissed Gilmore on both cheeks before letting go and tucking himself under Gilmore’s free arm to offer support. “Let’s get you to Keeper Yennen.” Gilmore felt worse than awful. He was not about to argue with any of it.

Glancing over the battlements, Gilmore’s eyes found Vox Machina moving through the city, embracing and congratulating one another. And then “Assum” found them. Knowing Vox Machina, they would give her all and any information she asked for and then some within the next ten minutes. There was no sense crying over spilled milk. 

But it did serve to remind Gilmore. “While we’re alone...there’s something I must tell you about Seeker Assum. There’s not much we can do about it now, but there will come a time when we can...” Gilmore gave Jarett the same story he’d given Pike--well, almost. He added that Assum was not the real Assum, but an unknown imposter who should be watched much and told little. 

“I cannot say I am surprised,” Jarett replied, cool as a cucumber. “I was going to say, I know the Seeker has been an active ally of the Clasp in Emon since the dragon came. I was surprised to see him here. His story...it did not track with my knowledge.”

“I love you, J’arett.” Leave it to Jarett to already know before Gilmore told him. 

“My lord?” 

“Er. You know what I mean.” Whoops. 

“Of course, my lord.” Jarett soldiered on, barely showing his disappointment.

***

After having used up all of the Keeper’s heals for the day, Gilmore had Jarett escort him down to the city to see if there was any damage control left to be done in Vox Machina’s continuing conversation with Raishan. When they were just nearly within earshot (by dragon hearing standards), Gilmore patted Jarett on the shoulder. “Let me go on ahead. It’s probably better we reveal as little of our personal alliances as possible to ‘Assum.’” 

Jarett nodded. “That seems wise.” He let go of Gilmore reluctantly, and watched as the mage approached the group alone. 

Gilmore listened as Vox Machina tried to work out how the white dragon had found Whitestone. Because blame was easier than rational thought and logic, most of them immediately blamed Gilmore and the scrying he’d been doing on the ruins of Draconia. 

Percival, at least, seemed to have realized the actual problem. “We probably do--We should assume we have a leak,” he was saying as Gilmore came close enough for Vax to notice he was there. 

“Well I’m going to blame Shaun,” Scanlan announced happily. 

“Is he Shaun now?” Percival asked, disconcerted by the informality. 

Gilmore walked around the group to park himself right behind Scanlan. “You’re more than welcome to,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at the gnome. 

“Sorry!” Scanlan said, laughing nervously. Clearly he had not seen Gilmore coming. Gilmore gave Scanlan a look as he sat down on a nearby stone bench to listen in on their conversation. In spite of the cold, he was still perspiring. Gilmore dabbed his forehead with a translucent blue silk scarf.  

He listened quietly as Percival tried to convince the others there was a spy in their midst. Gilmore watched Raishan maintain her poker face while listening to all of this talk with interest. When Vex’ahlia suggested that their location could have been betrayed by Raishan in human form, Gilmore nearly laughed out loud. Why did they stumble on all of their best ideas by accident?

Jarett chose that moment to come jogging up, looking as though he had been running through the city looking for them. Gilmore would have believed it himself if he didn’t know better. “Is everyone alright?” he asked. 

Vox Machina questioned him on the state of the townsfolk, and Jarett reported that everyone was fine. He turned to Gilmore, making a point of saying. “Whatever you did, keep doing it, please.” It was so tempting to say something inappropriate and flirtatious in response, but Gilmore maintained a facade of fatigued indifference, because of Raishan. 

There was a lull in the conversation, and Gilmore stood, gripping Vax’ildan’s shoulder for support because he could not take Jarett’s again. “Hey,” Vax looked back at him, having been paying little to no attention to Gilmore up to that moment. He chose not to take it personally. 

“Alright, so. What’s your plan? What’s the next order of business?” It was Gilmore’s unsubtle way of telling Vax he wanted attention after just having saved the city.

“Get you a drink, I think,” Vex said with a smile. Well, at least one of the twins cared about him.  

Gilmore sighed. “A drink would be great.” Percival suggested they continue to strategize over drinks, which was, frankly, a much better idea than doing it in the middle of the street in front of a spy. Well, two, now that Jarett was here. 

“Come,” he told them. “I can definitely use that right now.” Gilmore led them to the nearest tavern that the townsfolk had been using as a gathering place until commerce resumed, continuing to lean on Vax, who had not yet protested, though he was not really acknowledging Gilmore’s presence, either. With a nod from Gilmore, Jun Hee set up their drinks and cleared the room so that Vox Machina could speak privately. 

While all of this was happening, Vax finally drew Gilmore aside, crossing his arms over his chest so that no one would think they were anything more than friends. Fine. It was probably best Raishan not know about his relationship with Vax either. “How are you doing, personally?” 

“Me?” Gilmore asked, hollow-eyed and grey faced. 

“Yeah,” Vax said, looking concerned.

“Wonderous! I’m doing great!” Gilmore smiled brightly. When he attempted a chuckle, he could not quite manage it, and Gilmore gave up the pretense, too tired to maintain it. “I’m exhausted,” he sobbed, hiding his face in his hands as he struggled to get himself back together. 

“Shaun, I--” 

Gods, were they now back to ‘Shaun’? “I’ll be fine,” Gilmore cut him off, calm once more.

“You sure?” Vax asked. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Gilmore lied, resigned. 

“Alright.” But he did not think Vax quite believed him. 

“It’s been a long time since I put my energy and talents towards anything beyond making shiny things. Feels nice to be helping others.” He was just a simple merchant, after all. Not a metallic dragon who’d devoted centuries to preventing mortals from committing mass genocide on one another.

“Well, I feel like we’re seeing your true talents.” 

Gilmore was too exhausted to tell if Vax was flirting with him. If he wasn’t, it was a sweet thing to say. Either way, Gilmore won. “I’m at my wits’ end with these,” Gilmore said, humbly. “Do you want to see true talents? You should ask Allura to show you what she’s capable of when she gets back.” And perhaps she could shoulder the burden of the barrier for a few days while Gilmore finally got some sleep... 

Vax bought it hook, line, and sinker. “She is pretty nifty.” Gilmore just sighed, the pain from the effort he’d just expended on the barrier finally starting to set in. “Well, come on,” Vax said. “Come have a drink.” 

That sounded like a full-on invitation. Gilmore put an arm around Vax’ildan’s shoulders and leaned on him as they made their way to the table that had been prepared for the group. It felt good to be close to Vax again.

Chapter Text

Gilmore kept his hand on Vax’ildan’s thigh as Grog produced drinks from their bag of holding. Gilmore supposed anything would do in a pinch, and the wine wasn’t half bad. Now if only Raishan would stop pumping Vox Machina for information…

Grog caught him off-guard by asking the location of the City of Brass. Raishan began to rattle off some nonsense about Wildemount, but Gilmore interrupted to tell them the truth, and that Vox Machina was not to go there, because it was too dangerous. After the fact, he realized he might as well have dared them to go. 

They immediately declared they were intent on going and assured him it would be fine because they’d already been to the elemental plane of fire. “We saw Thordak there, actually,” Vex’ahlia told him proudly.

“Oh! Even more of a reason not to go!” Gilmore could tell he was getting punchy when his laughter sounded slightly hysterical even to his own ears. Perhaps sleep-deprived drinking was not the best idea. Gilmore tried to maintain his fragile sanity as Vox Machina explained to him why the fire plane was a safe place to visit now. Madness. 

“Draconia is in Wildemount?” Grog asked him, a plan seemingly forming in that increasingly brilliant mind. 

“Draconia is in Wildemount, yes,” Gilmore told him. He hoped this new line of inquiry meant they were considering taking on the white dragon first. Especially after their experience today. 

Percy didn’t seem to agree with Grog’s idea. He asked if there were any Vestiges in Wildemount. Which was quite funny, because they’d actually never confided to Gilmore where they’d been told any of the Vestiges were. Granted, he and Vax rarely talked business, and Gilmore had seen the others for less than two days since their encounter with the sphinx. 

“Whereabouts are the Vestiges?” he asked them. 

They all began to speak at once, talking over one another, repeating the City of Brass and throwing out wild notions like the bottom of the ocean, and then Gilmore could have sworn he heard Vex’ahlia mention Marquet. “Where’s Ank’Harel?” Scanlan asked shortly thereafter.

“Ank’Harel is on the continent of--what’s it called?” Keyleth asked. 

Did they really not know? Gilmore felt Jarett’s grip on the back of his chair and turned back to lock gazes with him briefly. Gilmore chuckled ruefully, turning to Vox Machina. “Ank’Harel. It’s been a while.”

“Ank’Harel is on the continent of Marquet,” Keyleth finished, informing Scanlan as though Gilmore did not exist and had not been speaking. Maybe there was something wrong with the girl. 

Gilmore shook his head slightly. “It’s where I grew up, or nearabouts, at least.”

Suddenly all of their eyes were on him. “Where you grew up, Gilmore?” Scanlan asked.

“Well, not in the city,” Gilmore told them. “A little ways out a bit.” He watched Raishan lean forward on the table, enjoying his untruth telling. 

“You’re Marquesian?” Scanlan asked, struggling with the pronunciation as many Tal’Doreians did.

“Originally, yes, but I’ve been living here most of my life,” Gilmore lied. “Soon as I had the opportunity to leave...It’s a free plane here in Tal’Dorei and all the shops I can muster.” Gilmore’s face fell suddenly. “Until they all got destroyed.”

“Good times,” Vex’ahlia joked. 

“It’s fine,” Gilmore told them. “I’d made the bottom floors too small anyway. More space. Next time.” 

Vax looked like an idea had come upon him, and he turned to Gilmore. “You ever want to revisit home?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Maybe.” For a split second, Gilmore was tempted. But only because it was Vax who’d asked, and because the look on his face was…conspiratorial. Inviting. 

But, no. Gilmore could not go back. Especially not in the company of Vox Machina, and Vax’ildan in particular. “Nah.” He pretended to change his mind. “I need to stay here and maintain this.” Which was not the reason why. 

“Yes you do,” Vex’ahlia said, understanding the importance of his role in the defense of the city. “If you don’t mind,” she finished, with a kindness and courtesy that her compatriots rarely showed him. 

“What about the Endless Plane of the Abyss?” Scanlan asked, casually.

Gilmore nearly choked on his wine. “I don’t know much about the Abyss, but I know that it’s probably the worst place ever.” Understatement of the year. Even Gilmore had not expected Vox Machina to go to hell quite so quickly.

“Worse than the fire plane?” Grog asked. 

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. At least someone was listening to him. 

Vex’ahlia noted that was where demons came from, like the one that had killed Pike. Gilmore felt like he’d skipped a page. They discussed the possibility of finding Hotis there, and then decided to put off that particular quest. Thankfully. 

Then Grog demanded a map, asking where the Ozmit Sea was. He was really extraordinary. Next, he was trying to strategize how to approach Vorugal, and Gilmore’s hope rose. Until Vax put down Grog’s intelligence and said Percy was their strategist, effectively silencing Grog. Did Vax and Grog still hate one another? That might explain it. Gilmore let go of Vax’ildan’s thigh, placing his hand on the stem of his wine glass instead. Calling Grog unintelligent was the definition of punching down, and he was disappointed in Vax.

Percy began to drone on about wars versus battles and defensive strategy. Fortunately, Jarett chose that time to speak up. “The more time that goes by, the more chance there is that the battle, the war will be fought here. On our turf. The faster we move, the better chance we have of bringing it to theirs, so let us not dilly-dally.” 

Gilmore could have kissed him. All their talk of finding Vestiges was frankly terrifying. If they did all of their treasure hunting first, it might be a year before Gilmore could ever leave Whitestone. If the barrier did not kill him first. “I agree,” Grog said, making him Gilmore’s second favorite person in the room currently. 

Keyleth mentioned an insane idea about sending Scanlan in disguise to spy on one of the dragons. Before he could reply, Percy interrupted to ask Gilmore if he could create an air raid warning for the city in case one of the dragons returned to seek Whitestone.

“That’s actually--I wouldn’t say rudimentary, but it’s definitely within my skill set,” he told them. Not to mention there were artisans in the city who might well be able to construct something non-magical that could do the job. 

Then Vox Machina all began firing off questions about the barrier at once, what it did precisely and how it was maintained. “Is there any way that we can help you make this barrier more permanent and stronger?” Scanlan asked. To be honest, it was a question they should have asked a week ago. It was a bit late now.  

“I don’t know,” Gilmore said, finally. “This was crafted for this reason. This isn’t a long-standing existing incantation. This was crafted through the minds of Drake Thunderbrand and Allura and myself and with Pike’s aid. This is a new magic; it’s experimental, and to be perfectly honest, I’m very glad that it succeeded because it was…”

“Just guessing?” Vex’ahlia finished. 

Gilmore nodded. “Essentially.”

Vax interrupted to ask about their Spinning Ball of Death™, because apparently it was ‘ask Gilmore all of the inane questions you can think of’ hour.  

“We’ve been a bit distracted,” Gilmore told him. 

“That’s what I thought,” Vax said. But then why had he asked? 

Percy interjected that he wanted to use the singularity to their advantage, saying the war room should be relocated to the top of the ziggurat. In some ways, that was a terrible idea. But in others...Gilmore glanced at Raishan. He doubted her disguise was as solid as his. In the presence of the anomaly, her true identity might be revealed. 

“I love your mind, Percy,” Gilmore said, pointing his finger at Percival in approval. “Have I told you that? I love your mind.” It reminded Gilmore of another brilliant tinker whose mind he’d loved for a few centuries, give or take a millennium. “I love it,” he told Percy.

All of this attention on Grog and now Percy must have triggered Vax’ildan’s jealousy, because suddenly his hand was on Gilmore’s knee under the table. Gilmore smiled, reaching down to thread their fingers together.

“That’s probably a bad sign, but thank you,” Percy replied. What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

Vax leaned toward him, and Gilmore could feel those roguish brown eyes on him. He really was the textbook example of a person who had not received enough attention in childhood.

“We’ll do that immediately,” Gilmore told Percy, rubbing Vax’s thumb with his own, under the table. “That sounds like a grand plan.” 

When “Assum” agreed, Gilmore was darkly amused. Raishan had no idea what she was in for.

Unfortunately, then Vox Machina were back to arguing about whether they should seek Vestiges or fight dragons. Once more, Jarett stepped forward to interject some common sense. “If you’re looking to go to the Ozmit Sea, you’ll probably need a ship of some kind. It’s quite a far travel, and that distance as well as the docks on the west coast right now are--well, they’re locked down at Emon.”

“How long is the travel to Marquet?” Vex’ahlia asked, and Gilmore’s heart leapt uncomfortably in his chest. It was strange to think of them all going there.

“Travel by boat, across the Ozmit, maybe about a week, a week and a half,” Jarett told her. “Skyship, maybe half as long?” 

Gilmore interjected before they could get too bogged down in analogue details of travel. “Technically, I have a Teleportation sigil outside the city. I could probably just get you there.” He just hoped they would not ask him to go along again. 

“Walking is really good for health, though,” Vax joked, seeing how silly they’d been. Gilmore smiled at him, nudging him playfully. Under the table, Vax hooked his boot around Gilmore’s leg. 

“Are we at all just forgetting the fact that Draconia is lying in ruins?” Grog asked. Was his mind always so strategic? Gilmore wondered. 

“We don’t have time,” Percy argued. Vex’ahlia pointed out it wasn’t about time but the dragon they would have to face there. Percy argued that they needed more Vestiges before they could face the white dragon. But now Scanlan was arguing Grog’s point, and he was very persuasive. For a moment, the conversation became about what Assum was doing to help, and Gilmore hid a smile as Vox Machina talked ill of his usefulness right in front of Raishan.

Finally, she interrupted, smiling unamused. “Seeker Assum is still at the table.” 

“Yeah, he’s right there!” Keyleth agreed.

“We’re drunk. We will talk about you in third person as much as we want,” Percy said. Gilmore hid his mouth with his sleeve, too close to laughing at the look on Raishan’s face as Vex’ahlia tried to explain away their rudeness.

“That’s alright,” Raishan said, finally relenting. 

“Plus, it’s really fun to say your name,” Vex added.

“I’ve heard it before, I assure you,” she said. A juvenile joke, to be sure, which seemed to rankle the dragon, who’d only been using it for a few hours, more than it did the actual Assum, who’d had it his whole life. 

The discussion returned to Draconia, so things were looking up. Until Percival began to argue again that it would be foolish to take on the white dragon now. 

“Grog, I think you’re thinking of a battle we can win, as opposed to a war we’re losing.” Percy said.

“Yeah, no, look. I’m not trying to pick a fight with a dragon, I’m just going to make sure that dragonborn are there and we can help them.” Gilmore could tell from a certain look in his eye that Grog had remembered Draconia was where Tiberius had gone when last they’d heard. 

“We can help them by killing the dragon,” Percy said coldly. 

“Yes,” Vax agreed, in an off-brand show of tactical cowardice. 

“Wow.” Grog was clearly disgusted with both of them as Vax and Percy exclaimed over how unusual it was that they were agreeing for once.   

“Actually, that’s pretty sound,” Raishan interrupted, defending Grog’s plan. “If you manage to defeat the dragon there, you’ll probably gather the survivors and have them join the cause against Emon. If you have the means of transporting them. Remember, once a dragon’s down, it’s on.” Gilmore watched her carefully, trying to surmise her tactic. Did she want Vox Machina to fight Vorugal before they were ready? Or had she had a falling out with Thordak and really meant to support their efforts to retake Emon?

He was still mulling it over as Vox Machina began to argue about whether or not they could fight the white dragon and try to brainstorm ways to get Vorugal to fight Thordak or Raishan. Soon the whole party was teaming up on Grog, insulting his intelligence again, which Gilmore did not like. If this was how they treated one another, it was a wonder they ever accomplished a thing. 

“You know what, Grog? You are really strong,” Vax said. “That’s the end of it. I have nothing else to say.” Gilmore looked down at him. That was mean. And there had been no call for it. Not to mention Vax’ildan himself was hardly the smartest person in the room. Vax felt the weight of his stare and looked up at Gilmore, still grinning at his own mean joke. Gilmore shook his head at Vax, and his smile slowly faded.  

The others began to concoct a plan to get Vorugal to attack Raishan, which was amusing for Gilmore, who got to sit there and watch Raishan’s face as this conversation happened. In fact, he nearly missed it when they asked him a question, drawing him into the discussion. 

“Do we know how they communicate?” Grog asked. 

“Yes, we do. There were some baubles in a wall in Krieg’s secret cave,” Vax said. It sounded like an innuendo when he described Brimscythe’s lair that way. 

“Yeah, but now,” Grog said, ignoring Vax. 

“Well, I assume something similar,” Vax said, annoyed.

“They have other balls, right?” Vex asked, nearly causing Gilmore to spit wine across the table. 

“Gilmore, Assum, do either of you have a theory on how they communicate?” Grog asked. Gilmore hid a smile. It was almost as if he knew. 

He glanced at Raishan. “I have not been to any of their bases,” Gilmore lied, feigning ignorance. “Assum, you’ve been watching Thordak…” He elegantly hit the ball into Raishan’s court and sat back to listen to her answer.

“Well, within his domain in the Cloudtop, he has...a number of various spies that are sworn to him that act as his network of information to and from the Cloudtop and his throne of black glass and molten rock. He does have singular pillars placed around that contain four orbs that he would speak into on occasion.” That sounded like truth to Gilmore. Perhaps she was plotting revenge against Thordak. 

It sounded right to Vox Machina as well. They mentioned that Umbrasyl’s palantiri were already shattered when they found his lair, a detail Gilmore had noticed as well. The poor child. Was that why he had been left so defenseless? He’d had a falling out with the rest of the conclave? Gilmore wanted to ask Raishan more about that.  He made a mental note. 

The children were off and running with an idea to plant idols of Vorugal in Emon to enrage Thordak. Which wouldn’t get them to Draconia to save anyone. Scanlan took one last shot at Assum’s name, and it made Raishan’s left eye twitch. That was between the gnome and Raishan, as far as Gilmore was concerned. He’d made his bed. But all she ended up doing was approving their plan to use statues against Thordak. Gilmore reached for another bottle of wine. This was going to be a long night.

Only after he’d given up did Vex’ahlia begin to calculate how long it would take Vorugal and his army to get back to Draconia. Then Grog, Scanlan, and Keyleth started to brainstorm what they could do in Draconia before the white dragon returned. And Vax joined, trying to persuade Percival that it was a good opportunity for recon. Gilmore stroked Vax’ildan’s fingers under the table, approvingly. And then Keyleth was asking Scanlan about casting a disguise on them, and it sounded like it might actually happen. But Percy was yet to be persuaded. The discussion went on and on. Gilmore had never regretted spending time with Vox Machina more. 

Finally they decided that they would go, but they would have to rest in Whitestone tonight. Which might be cutting it a bit close with Vorugal’s return to Draconia, but it was still possible. And… Gilmore glanced down at Vax, getting some ideas. Was he too tired? Perhaps. But Jarett had wound him up a bit last night. 

Just as they were leaving, Percival declared that nothing was settled, which was very patrician of him, as he’d been outvoted by the group. He said they would decide in the morning, and Gilmore really had no more energy to spend listening to their bickering and tomfoolery. He squeezed Vax’ildan’s hand before letting go, and followed them out of the tavern, hoping to have a word in private before they parted ways. But Percy grabbed Vax before Gilmore could, and the two men took off for a walk alone, leaving the others to head back to the castle. Jarett gave him a nod before following behind them. 

Gilmore should really go to the temple to request the next cleric on shift. But before he could leave, Raishan placed a hand on his shoulder. Uncle, a word. The two of them stepped back inside the tavern. 

“More bargaining?” he asked her in Draconic. 

They are fine to pursue Vorugal now , she spoke directly into his mind. It would be best for them to start with him in any case. Emon calls for a siege and armies, which will take time to amass.

And why are you suddenly turning on your compatriots ? Gilmore asked. Why the sudden change of heart? 

Thordak broke a promise to me, she hissed. And he must pay. 

I don’t believe you, he said. 

I care not what you believe. You can take my help or leave it.

Oh, don’t act as though I’ve offended your honor, he said. It was you sent Vorugal to Whitestone today. Don’t deny it.

She shrugged. I believed they had a chance.

And what of the innocents here who would have been killed in the process? Unacceptable.

Well, yes, I know that now. Now that I see you are here. 

Do not attempt to employ such a tactic again, he said. Or you will answer to me.

She pretended to cower in fear for a moment, then laughed. Yes, uncle.

I mean it, he said. This city is under my protection. Respect that, or we will have a problem.

Yes, uncle. 

Is it true what they said? Umbrasyl had cut himself off from the rest of the conclave before his death?

She nodded. The drakes had a falling out. You know how males are.

That poor child. He didn’t stand a chance.

She looked at him for a moment. He was of your issue?

Gilmore nodded. Then my condolences. She surprised him by embracing Gilmore. He patted her awkwardly, half expecting to feel a knife in his back at any moment.

Thordak took our eggs. 

What? 

She leaned against him. I laid a clutch. As we planned this--well, I planned it. For him. He took them to ensure my loyalty.

Good god.

Please. She looked up at him. Help me get them back. He’s gone mad. He won’t even let me sit on the nest. They may not have survived, even now. 

Gods. How much more time? 

If it’s not too late? Perhaps a month before they’re due to hatch. 

He clasped her hand. You have my word. I will do whatever I can. But working with Vox Machina was like herding cats.

And you have my word. This city will remain safe. Once I have my eggs, and Thordak is defeated, you will not see me again.

Gilmore nodded. This was a mission he could get behind.