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Torbek and Frost have a complicated relationship, it being distant and strenuous from the beginning. Back at Carnaval Le Croux they never spoke, they knew of each other but never interacted beyond Frost passing orders to Torbek from Kremy. So hearing that Torbek was briefly at the Witchlight Carnival wasn’t relevant, nor important to the tabaxi. But seeing him at the Inn, gnarled and scary, easily being able to thrash at his former co-workers, and down Frost in combat. Something was terribly wrong. After that, and some of Torbek’s limited sense getting back to him, trying to carry on like everything was normal was extremely difficult. Frost already struggled with feelings of estrangement, inferiority and though he wouldn’t admit it, jealousy. He didn’t believe any of it, it must’ve been a lie, some twisted trick to attack them all once their guard dropped.
The first night Frost didn’t sleep, aware of the dangerous modified bugbear in the next room. During the day he would stare, waiting for any change in emotion, baring of teeth or claws. It didn’t happen. But Frost was sure Torbek was doing it on purpose: speaking to Gricko in goblin, bowing down to Kremy, talking highly of Gideon. Sure he would look to Frost for solutions, but he must have been faking his stupidity. Torbek was a middle aged bugbear, he wasn’t stupid. He knows both common and goblin, can somewhat write, this wet cat act wouldn’t fool Frost.
When he killed Agedon, a loud humming coming from the machinery, drooling, hunting, Frost was sure he and his friends would be forced to kill him, or at least try. But they didn’t, after turning the leader of the harrengon to soup and chunks Gideon leaped to retrieve him from the water. They fussed over him, Kremy and Frost being more cautious, but for some reason his two other friends, even Twig, rushed to offer aid. Yet again, they carried on as if it was all normal, that the voice that tore itself from Torbek’s lungs wasn’t full of malice and evil. Another sleepless night, yellow eyes watching for any twitch that racked the bugbears body.
That leads to today, leaving the Soggy Court of Downfall and journeying in the forests yet again. The boat ride was strenuous, and the path forward was obscure, and they rested for a moment between two paths. One of large mushroom trees and soulless music, the other set path which look strangely bare. “We could send Torbek and see if he comes back?” Frost suggested cooly, ignoring the insulted face Torbek struck him and then the rest of the group who agreed. They settled with the rope Frost always carried, proposing to tie it around Torbek and seeing what happens next. Gricko, Gideon and Kremy are poorly examining the map, briefly glancing down the other path and Frost is left to deal with Torbek. “Alright” he began, unravelling the 50 feet of rope from his backpack on the ground. “I’ll tie it around the canisters, they won’t come out or anything…” Frost just assumed, walking towards the towering bugbear. He didn’t seem that tall though, not with how his shoulder sank,ears flattened and arms gathered to his chest.
“But they hurt.” He stated, voice low, as if it was a secret. Frost looked up at him with focus, not entirely believing him, staring in his dark magenta eyes like a disapproving teacher or parent. The tabaxi sighed, rolled his eyes gently, enough for the goblinoid to see, and dropped his arms. “The waist then.” He retorted, voice holding a slight edge that the other flinched at. He waited, Torbeks face scrunching up, as if smelling something worse than himself, as he picked at the fur on his long clawed fingers. “Oh, okay…” The voice the bugbear had contrasted his appearance greatly, scratchy and high pitched at times, grumbling through in a very feral fashion. He had a problem with stumbling his words, or drawing syllables out longer than he should. It must have been a goblinoid thing, but right now it just pissed Frost off more.
“Lift your arms then, your coats in the way.” Frost almost barked, ordered. Not loudly, just plainly. Stupidly enough, Trobek listened, and Frost could feel a pang of frustration rattle his veins. This man just brutally murdered a person, attacked his old co-workers in the night and has the audacity to shrink from merely Frost words. The sorcerer knows he is severely lacking empathy in these moments, but he just can’t find it, it doesn’t make sense. He’s not being mean, it’s just nothing is making sense, clicking into place as it should. Torbek lifts his long 10 foot long arms, ill fitting coat billowing out his frame. Frost stops himself from tutting or saying something, and brings forward the feet of rope.
He reaches out, not wanting to touch the bugbear due to his stench and clear disregard for hygiene, and loops the rope around the baggy striped shirt he wore, and pulls together for a first knot. Frost admits his surprise, the rope pulled tighter and tighter from the shirt, and was around Torbeks waist, but it looked too small. Even Frost's own waist was larger than that, Kremy's even. This couldn’t be right, biologically speaking. How is this bugbear even standing? Torbek clearly can see how Frost pauses, eyes opening from a cool gaze to eyes fully open. Frost feels his gaze, stiffens his shoulders, and continues to secure him. The hunter watches, confused, looks back to the three of his friends, and down at his other friend Frost. Anyone looking could see he was trying his hardest to think, not as smart as Gricko, or Kremy, or Gideon. Especially Frost. He is reflecting on the tabaxi’s attitude the last few days, his clear simmering distaste for him. He doesn’t want to be confrontational, but he has to find out, he can’t figure it out himself. The voice in the back of his skull has been mocking him about it, he feels uncertain.
“Frost?” He starts, voice quieter and lower, an attempt at a whisper. Frost pulls tightly, startling the bugbear, as the rope is now wrapped perfectly and tied around his small waist. Frost looked up, robes hood falling back slightly. Large yellow eyes locking with tired ones. It was scary how comfortable he was with eye contact. He hummed quizzically. The undivided attention made Torbek flustered, eyes leaving the tabaxi and going back and forth from his black ears instead. “Has, uh, have Torbek done something to upset you? Your, uhh, you just seem mad at Torbek.” He tumbled over his words, deep laughter in mockery rumbling in the base of his skull. He’s clutching his long slender hands close to his chest, thumb rubbing the fur on his other hand. “No I’m not.” Frost lies, and does so poorly. “But you are! Torbek knows you are! Torbek can tell!” He is stage whispering now, arms drooping, mouth agape. Frost’s eyes flickered downwards to the makeshift leash he’d put on the other, embarrassed by such a transparent lie, then back up to the others eyes again. “Why do you think I’m mad at you?”
The question gives Torbek brief pause, not quite expecting the question, but all so sure of the answer. “Because! Torbek hurt you, and, and Mr Kremy, and Gideon, and Gricko! And, everyone else seems to know that Torbek didn’t mean it, that it wasn’t Torbeks fault, but you keep on acting like it was Torbeks fault!” Now, Torbeks mannerisms in his hands are showing, quickly pointing at the sorcerer and throwing his hands in frustration. His brow is furrowed, nose scrunched in distaste, clearly feeling as though he is missing something. There is a beat of silence, the goblinoid looking pleadingly at Frost, arms outstretched waiting for an answer. Frost’s arms cross instinctively at the accusatory tone, feeling cornered at being read so easily to his face. “Well, Torbek, you did attack us in a random Inn in the Feywild in the middle of the night. How am I supposed to feel about that?” It makes sense to Frost. “I dunno, bad Torbek guesses! But, Torbek already said he doesn’t remember it! But you still watch Torbek like Torbek did it on purpose or something!” His voice is raising slightly, eyes closing as he tries to think hard, get the right words out to explain himself. “Did you?” Plainly he asked. “No!” Torbek yells now, alerting the other three off to the side. “How do I know that?” Frost feels bad saying it, only because he watches the flood of emotions wave through Torbeks face. Honestly, it's the most emotion aside from cowardice and despair he’s seen thus far. Confusion, anger, frustration, shock. His long furry claws clench, fists press into his forehead.
A grunt, a low growl, and Frost feels scared. He’s going to do it, attack him again. He readies his mind to push the bugbear back, slice his mind, teleport away. The chest heavies as the bugbear lets out a loud sigh, it rattles as if coming through his ribs. He doesn’t look back at the tabaxi, instead looking to the ground past him, where the other party members are coming towards the two. “Hey, what up fellas?” Gricko asks, looking up to Frost, his best friend first, who strangely averts his gaze, arm crossed, ears down. With quizzical eyes he instead turns Torbek, who has now silently turned away, rope falling to the ground. “Nothing.” He blurts, voice deeper than usual. Kremy and Gideon watch awkwardly, not sure where to place themselves or what to say. Torbek’s long arm grabs the extra rope without bending a knee, and with his back turned still stretched his arm out the the group for them to hold. “Torbek is ready.”
They are camping outside the Bubble and Charms store, having successfully made a few purchases and swapped Bavlorna’s book into their shelves effortlessly. Gideon traded the rhythm in his step, Kremy gave the colour of his eyes, Gricko bought with his favourite joke and Frost gave up an ounce of fear. He doesn’t feel different, not now at least, if anything he could afford to be more brave. The fire is set, food has been dealt out, and everyone is eating calmly. Torbek had been mildly quiet, a bit grumpy. Frost felt it, though it wasn’t directed specifically towards him. Even now, whilst eating, his long legs are to his chin and he is slowly spooning Kremy’s food into his grumpy face. Gricko knew something was up, call it druidic nature but he knows goblinoids and his best mate Frosty better than anyone. His eyes flickered between the two, opposite sides of the fire, eyes down and either a scowl or grimace on their faces. Kremy and Gideon were either oblivious, or intentionally ignoring the tension that cuts through them all but Gricko didn’t want this tension to simmer and eventually boil over.
Night came, Torbek was asleep, so was the others, but Frost sat awake. Watching Torbek’s sleeping body, every twitch or grimace. Gricko grew concerned for his normally cool headed friend, and slipped from under Hootsies owlbear grasp and scooted over to his friend. “So…” He saw Frost’s shoulders jump slightly, unusual for the normally perceptive cat. Brushing past the clear warning sign of distress, Gricko spoke softer. “What’s up with, y’know, you and what you’ve got going on?” A black ear twitched, clear sign of irritation, the goblin could read his stoic friend like a book. “Trying to sleep, sorry if I woke you.” “No you're not Frosty, you're sitting straight up!” Gideon shifted beneath his bedroll and groaned. The pair froze, waited for him to slump back over, and continued. “You’ve had your knickers in a twist the last few days, just want to make sure me best mates doing alright.” Whispered, elbow nudging the tabaxi gently, now sitting next to him on the fallen tree made bench.
A low sigh emitted from the sorcerer, as he turned to give an awkward toothy smile to his dearest friend. Of course Gricko knew something was wrong, they’d known each other for years now. “I’m just thinking…” “More than usual?” “I think so.” His eyes drifted from the now smoldering fire, and on the large but thin shape across the makeshift camp. Gricko’s eyes followed, sad smile on his face. “Do you think it’s wise for him to be travelling with us?” Head turned down, eyes focused. He looked upset for having to ask such a thing. “Well, I ain’t that wise, you know that Frosty…” He was cut off. “Well, did you think it was good? Smart? A literal time bomb without the obvious timer, with God’s knows what intent of when to explode?” Pouting, unsure, all together not how Frost should be. “He ain’t no threat to us Frosty, he’s helped us a whole bunch! Me stuck in that mud hole, uhhh, them nasty rabbits, and uh, it’s uh, we owe it to him?” He was smiling, trying to lighten the mood, but Frost’s head was set in pace. His padded fingers rubbed the rims of his robe. Gricko took his turn to frown, glancing back at the bugbear, then the tabaxi. “What would you have us do, Frosty? Leave him in the Feywild after we was the ones to get him here? He needs our help.” Guilt ran through him, watching the magenta glow emanate from the man. “I know that, but I’m talking more about now. No one could’ve predicted him ending up here, but he could still tear through us if the wrong button was pushed, or something sets him off.” The flashes of the night in the Inn racked his brain. Snarling sharp teeth, purple dust in the air, growling, howling, animalistic. Gricko’s reasurig hand rubbed his arm, as though he was the one reading Frost's thoughts. “ I just want us to be safe, as safe as we can be in this magic hag filled land.” He admitted, full of sorrow. He felt ashamed at how he knew he couldn’t protect his friends from most threats in this land, let alone Torbek.
“We are pretty damn safe Frosty, stronger than ever I’d say! Besides, we know Torbek, he ain’t gonna go killing us, well, not anymore? You know that weren’t him, right?” Being the level headed one wasn’t his fortey, but he knew his best mate needed it. “How do we know though? Gone for years, pops up again, attacks us, then acts like nothing happened. And Longscarf, you saw that? I just…” Another sign. “He’s alright, but you can’t deny something else is going on there? If even he doesn’t know, how can we prepare?” “We can’t!” The goblin threw his arms in the air, shrugging his shoulders. “But, when that time comes knocking, we will help best we can. All we can do, Frosty. Wouldn’t want the big guy dealing with all this scary bizz by himself, right?” Looking expectantly, hoping he got his point of view across. He knows how much Frost over-thinks things, and how jumpy he is in the face of danger. Gricko just needs to break it down again, root him in the now, and pull his empathy cap back on his head. Yellow eyes looked sadly over too the sleeping form, slow breaths and slight grumbling snores. He felt bad, so he just smiled reassuringly at the goblin. The two stayed up a little later, mostly in warm silence. A weight lifted from both of their shoulders. Torbek lay awake, listening.
They were absolutely filthy. The mud from downfall stuck in your fur and clothes like glue, and the group would do well with a freshen up. Especially the bugbear. Gideon was first with unbridled confidence, pulling his stained shirt over his head, kicked off his trousers and shoes and leaped into the clearest water they’d seen yet. Loud cracking splash as he landed with a loud sigh, small Hootsie soaring in after him. Gideon spent a few seconds trying to try and heat up the water with his natural body heat, before calling the rest in. Kremy too entered the water, though he slid in with a bit more grace, and sighed in relaxation next to the Genasi. Gricko practically tore his garbs off, catapulting towards a splashing Hootsie. Frost was carefully disrobing, folding his well earned robe before turning away from the water. Torbek made no motion to get in the water, feet planted and just looking up into the trees. Frost felt a bit frustrated for a moment, but composed himself. “Torbek.” He spoke plainly, watching the tall figure shrink under his gaze. “You should get into the water, get some of that grime off of you.” Frost gestured lazily at Torbek, looking at him as if he was looking over a pair of spectacles. “Yeah man, get on in here! You keep on smellin’ we’ll start thinking you're dead!” A strong accent rang out, large red arms now resting on the water's stone edge. “Uhhhhhh-” Kremy, strange looking without his top hat, peered over his shoulder. “Torbek. Get in this water right now, as your employer, it's a requirement!” Grey eyes squinting and the goblin and his adolescent owlbear daughter pushed water at each other playfully. Frost observed Torbek shuffle his feet nervously, then start walking closer to the water, pulling the dark blue coat from his shoulders.
Seeing the compliance, Frost turned to enter the water himself, smiling as Gricko was shoved beneath the water, Hootsie chirping in celebration and victory. “Ahh, this is quite nice. Thank you Gideon for heating the water.” His own striped shoulders began to relax, closing his eyes and rolling them beneath his paws. “No problem Frosty, ‘bout time we get the good ol’ spa treatment. Never thought Prismirr would be so mucky though” Large hands rubbing dirt stains from his bare arms, nose scrunching at the texture. “Well, we’ve only seen Hither as of yet fellas, if we have any strokes of luck left, next one'll be grass meadows and clear skies.” Kremy’s cold blood was warming in the water, as he too started to rub at the filth on his scales from the many days of travel. “Yeah, Th-thit-thither will be nothing but sweets, rat snacks and proper legit beds!” Gricko cheers, still struggling with the next realms name. “Hmmm.” Humming in agreement, sifting his claws through his white beard. He didn’t hear Torbek approach to his far left, but saw a long thin leg extend to plant into the water. Now that Frost see’s him, no longer drowned in long coats and striped shirts, Torbek doesn’t look too good. His limbs are thin, so thin the tubes of witchlight look heavy to bare. The bones at his hips are protruding through thin fur, ribs visible behind scared skin. Entering the water, torbek flinches when the tubes on his legs are submerged, before settling and sitting down, knees pulled under his chin. He isn’t happy, frowning despite the pleasant conversation. Long arms wrapped around himself in the mockery of a hug, ears down, eyes down.
“How says you Torbek, what ya think Tilt- Thhhh- Thither will look like?” Gricko, ever the empath, includes the bundle of wet fur in the conversation. His eyes go large as he looks up and thinks, Frost thinks he looks like someone's wet dog, unhappy to be bathed. “Uhhhh, Torbeks not sure, maybe more magical than here?” His answer feels more like a question. Also, that's a good point. “Torbek, have you been to Thither and Yon?Or only Hither?” Everyone perks up to the question, also curious about the answer. Hootsie continues to play and splash. ‘Uhhh, Torbek, uhhh…” A boney hand comes up to scratch at the fur on the side of his head, pondering and thinking with all his might. “Torbek isn’t sure, maybe not? Torbek was here when you guys came here, soo…” His nose scrunches up, as if a distasteful memory fled through him. “Well, that's a good point.” Kremy interjects, too prepared to question and figure things out. “You were hunting us back in that Inn, but you’ve mentioned some big ol’ room of lab coat wearing dwarves, and I ain’t seen no dwarves here.” The lizard folk speaks with his hands, claws waving and pointing at the man, who sinks deeper in the water when he does. “That’s right, and if the folks after you were in Hither they'd have caught you by now!” The group is building an image, like a puzzle. Putting the foggy pieces together, or at least think they are. “Oh, that’s right Gideon!” Gricko exclaims, standing in water, it reaching his chest. “Spose those scientists can’t come here then, apart from that freaky owl.” Le Croux shakes his head, shuddering at the unsettling appearance. “But what, Torbek can? They were the ones that made him that way, so how’d he get here?” The questions are piling as they continue, water relaxing their bodies, minds relaxing too.
Torbek has gone quiet again, instead of pouting his thick eyebrows are furrowed, nose scrunched up again in further distaste. Dark magenta eyes planted down into the water, uncomfortable. “You remember anything? Any flashes or places or something?” Gideon asks, voice curious, head tilted slightly. Torbek doesn’t look up, but his grip on himself gets visibly tighter, shoulders past his ears. “Torbek said already that Torbek doesn’t know.” Spoken through sharp teeth and a clenched jaw, upset. Everyone goes silent at his irritation. Kremy reels back slightly, offended. “He’s just asking, Torbek. No need to get pissy now.” Grey eyes stare expectantly. The second of silence lasts a bit too long again. “Torbeks already told you all that Torbek remembers, Torbek wouldn’t lie.” Kremy’s scaled brows raise and the hint of confrontation. “No, no, no.” The Genasi feels tension rising, putting a hand in front of Kremy’s chest. “I don’t think your a liar man, no one said that-” Cut off uncharacteristically. “Well you keep asking Torbek like Torbek isn’t telling you everything Torbek knows.” Now he looks fed up, not angry but more sad. His arms unfurl and shoulders slump, defeated. There is a stronger bat of silence now, Gricko and Frost looking between Kremy, Gideon and Torbek, no longer watching Hootsies cute splashing. It's bizarre for the bugbear to be so outspoken and assertive, it feels as though it's outside of his nature. Kremy doesn’t seem to like it, not with how his words harbour a rattling hiss. “Well we just askin’! Ain’t no need to be throwing you arms out now, we not allowed to ask?” “No, that’s not what Torbek meant!” His clawed feet kick under the water. “Then what did you mean?” “That you guys keep asking like Torbeks answers going to change!” “It might! We don’t know! You might wake up fresh and remember something brand spanking new!” Sarcasm is seeping through hissed words. “Torbek won’t! Torbeks tried!” “Hey fellas, let's take it down-” “Oh sweet baron Torbek, you might!” “Torbek won’t!!” This time, Tobeks throat rumbles with a growl, and sharp teeth are on display. Ears pulled back, large hands clenched around the rocks of the water.
“Ah! No, fellas sit yourselves down now. Don’t be yelling like that in front of Hootsie.” Gricko comes in to mediate and put the pair at ease, not wanting to see his friends argue in the middle of the Feywild. He stands, hands out and looks at Kremy making eye contact, before looking towards Torbek. He can’t lock eyes however, as Torbek has already turned his back and started climbing out of the warm water. Back turned the canisters on his back are on full display, as well as the irritated skin around it. There is a line down his spine where no fur is growing back, the skin around the Fey metal irritated and sore. His spine itself is pulling tightly under his skin, each column of the bones visible. On thin legs he walks towards his clothes, not even slightly cleaner than how he entered. “Ah, c'mon Torbek, Kremy didn’t mean it like that!” Gideon calls out, concerned. He doesn’t respond, pulling his trousers up wet legs, over damp dripping fur. He pulls on the shirt, evidently a straitjacket with its claps and stripes, throwing the coat on his back. “Torbek’s done with the water.” Voice stern, breathing angrily. “Torbek’s going back to the camp now.” And with that he strides away, never looking back, and going towards the camp they’d set up earlier. Everyone else sits still in what must be shock, Frost’s fur rising on the back of his neck as the argument broke out. In the bugbears' absence, Gricko frowns dramatically at Kremy, who rolls his colourless eyes. “Don’t go looking at me like that, he’s the one getting his panties in a twist over a simple fucking question.” Scaled arms cross over his chest, the hiss slowly leaving his voice and he rests back in the water. “Kremmyy” A blonde eyebrow is raised, as the goblin crosses his own arms. “He’s got a point man, didn’t need to talk like that.” Gideon’s voice is soft and reassuring, a hand placed on the scaled shoulder of his companion. “Well I wouldn’t have been speaking like that if he didn’t speak to you like that!” His shoulders raise and head rolls, as though his behaviour was expected and obvious. “It’s a touchy subject man, maybe he just doesn't feel like talking about it right now?” Gideon does sympathize and understand Torbek’s hesitant nature, he doesn't like talking about those Hobgoblins.
Frost is quiet, thinking and rationalizing now the yelling has stopped. The other three deliberate, cooling Kremy’s potent temper in the cooling water. Hootsie has come to Frost’s side now, pushing her head under his furred arm, asking for pets. He scratches gently with his claws at the feathers on her forehead, she chirps happily. “It looks like it hurts.” Frost says, not listening to where his friends are in their own conversation. They turn to him, confusion on their faces. “The stuff in his back hasn't healed, despite it being about 5 years.” He doesn’t look up from Hootsie, his own eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought. At his words, Kremy’s head goes down, Gideon looks awkwardly to the side and Gricko stares at him with large sad eyes. “He looks- no, he seems ill. But I doubt we are equipped to help, restore or cure him from whatever Fey magic they’ve built into him.” His hand scratches slower, sadder. He blinks up to Kremy, who nearly averts his gaze. “I don’t think it’d help if he remembered anymore of that, he can’t bear with what he knows now. Any more information,and he’d… I-I don’t know.” Feeling empathy, feeling bad, Frost looks downwards into the water. He hadn’t seen more of what has afflicted Torbek, and now that he has, he feels awful. Thin, sickly, heavy, foreign material imbedded into scarred skin, onto broken bones. The experience of attaining the witchlight over 5 years was a ring of hell itself, but to have it cling to your frame always, never leaving. It must be a heavy burden to bear. His words have struck his friends, giving them more perspective with his limited words. Gricko is sad, but is also pleased to see the conversation they’d shared had not been in vain. Guilt strikes Kremy, and Gideon remembers his own past alongside Torbeks.
The group returning to camp was awkward, but they’d tried their best to lighten the ever heavy mood. Kremy made food, offering as much as possible to Torbek because he was “Too damn thin.” Gricko was cracking jokes in Goblin, a small smile on Torbek’s face rather than the pout. Gideon sat next to the bugbear, despite cleaning himself, clapping a hand on the man's back and his shoulder, laughing loudly. Even Frost conversed with the man more, smiling at him, involving him. They are bringing the party back to high spirits, bonding, talking, and Torbek seems to be happy sitting in the attention. Rest comes easy when your stomach is full and surrounded by friends. Torbek didn’t want to ruin the mood with his weirdly bubbling tension, or the cutting words coming from that forever nagging voice. He felt bad for yelling, for storming off, but was pleased how they’d come to slyly apologize.