By the next morning most in the Circus had forgotten Aerie’s indiscretions, except for Akabi who emitted a low rumble whenever she passed near. Lucretious explained they had been hired for a few shows in Waterdeep, but magic that protected the city from extraplanar invaders also prevented her from being able to just whoosh them away. So the plan was to head south overland, stop in at a few more towns and villages, maybe start promoting the new puppet show - an idea on which Aerie still was not entirely sold - before returning to Baldur’s Gate.
For Aerie it was a good a direction as any so she tagged along. They even gave her a horse - a haggard old gray spotted mare, but an avariel of small stature wasn’t much of a burden to carry. Aerie felt far more at ease once out of the city, among cool air and rolling hills and far fewer voices assaulting her senses all at once. The only one that really kept pestering her was Lucretious.
“I know about your early adventures, of course,” the ringmaster lounged in a chaise held aloft by skeletons now adorned in feathered caps, “your travels with the children of Bhaal and your one elf war on slavery. Want to fill in some of the gaps?”
Soon after defeating Amelyssan, Aerie had let go of Minsc. She’d thanked him for protecting her while she found her feet, but now there would be other young adventurers who needed his help far more than she did. At the time it had been true. She thought he wanted to return to Rashemen, but when she’d visited there herself years later she hadn’t found him. Others she did stay in touch with, periodically; wandering just seemed to be in her blood so sending and receiving messages was often difficult. But yes; she fought slavery wherever she encountered it, determined to save anyone she could from suffering like she had, and in so doing often crossed paths with and collaborated with Jaheira and other Harpers. One day, by chance, she encountered another avariel who guided her back to Faenya-Dail; after so many decades of not knowing the fate of her parents, or they her, she was finally reunited with them and many friends and teachers from her childhood. It was the happiest she had ever been. Until one evening over dinner it just struck her that she didn’t really know who any of those people were, and they didn’t really know her either. So she left, tried to settle, couldn’t, and just wandered ever since.
What she told Lucretious was, “hmm… not really.”
“Oh come on; you could be an inspiration to so many! Perhaps an act to rival Dribbles the Clown!”
“I hate clowns.”
“Phobia?”
“No. They’re just not funny.”
“Nonsense! Wait until you see Dribbles and his dog Buddy; anything is paws-ible! Funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Well now I just feel really sorry for you.”
“Oh go on,” the exasperated Lucretious fanned herself, “just give me something. Like tell me one thing you are afraid of.”
Aerie did in fact like Lucretious. Maybe it was just the charisma she exuded due to being a very well practiced performer, although if she never turned it off was it really a performance? But she didn’t really trust her enough to confide in. On the other hand, if she already knew so much about her early adventures then, “it’s hardly a secret,” Aerie shrugged. “I’m claustrophobic.” Winged folk in general weren't good with being confined, likely not helped by the fact she literally was for a long time and nearly died.
“Yet you chose a life that involves so much crawling around dungeons, and even the Underdark a few times I gather.”
“Well, with help, I worked through it. Now it’s only really tight spaces that bother me at all.”
They were interrupted as the horse belonging to a blue tiefling man - Ervir, an acrobat - trotted up alongside Aerie. It seemed the boy - Thyneus - was eager to ask her more questions as well. “What’s the furthest place you’ve ever been?”
“Well,” Aerie thought, “I spent a few years in Sigil, The City of Doors said to lie at the very center of the multiverse. I knew some actors from there, and from there I visited several other worlds; some like this, some very different. On one giant machines ruled everywhere, like shield guardians but as big as mountains and the whole land quaked when they walked.”
“Wow! That must have been scary.”
“It was at first, but so long as you stayed out their way they didn’t really notice you. Sometimes it’s good to be small.”
She spoke a little longer about some of the places she’d been, from Icewind Dale to The Outer Planes, after which Ervir thanked her and rode on ahead.
“So,” Lucretious drawled, “you’ll happily answer any question the boy asks, but when it’s me suddenly you’re more guarded than a sacrifice’s virginity. I’m hurt.”
Aerie snorted. “I respect his curious nature.”
“I’m curious too.”
“No - you’re exploitative. Big difference.”
They had been on the road most of the day when the little convoy of wagons stopped. Aerie rode on to find the cause while admitting that she was starting to enjoy herself; she would never have gotten away with talking to people in her old circus like this. Most of the time she would have kept her head down and furtively mumbled in response to any question. Now she didn’t fear anyone’s wrath it was like getting to go back to school to tell your teachers everything they’d been wrong about, which she had done too.
The big red bugbear, Fyodor, had been leading and called the train to a halt, his leathery face creasing concernedly at canine tracks crossing the dirt road ahead. Too big to be wolf, and too long to be bear. “Werewolf,” he growled.
Several of them by the looks of things; a whole pack. They must have been chasing something but there were no other tracks to indicate what. Werewolves weren’t necessarily a danger if they retained enough of their humanity to be spoken to. Aerie volunteered to look, gliding up into the canopy to conceal herself; the prints were large and no effort made to cover them so one hardly needed to be an expert tracker to follow.
In her old circus she’d gotten used to cleaning up some foul odors. She’d traipsed through sewers and had foul concoctions thrown in an effort to overwhelm her senses. But no stench ever hit quiet as hard as fresh blood and spilled intestines. The good news was she’d found the pack. The bad news was something else had found them first.
She floated down from the branches now following a trail of twisted, some half-transformed corpses, her eyes shimmering and body trembling as she realized they hadn’t been chasing; they’d been running. And some of the bodies were so small… just pups...
A howl up ahead stirred her to run, breaking into a clearing just in time to witness the last seconds of this pack. A huge matriarch snarled and slashed at an equally large barbarian. Incredibly agile for his size he avoided it and stunned her with a punch to the snout, his axe buried deep in the chest of an already fallen pack member. The matriarch charged, tackling him, but he swiftly moved around landing on her back, one thick arm around her throat. Then as his muscles bulged he began to pry apart her mouth until, with a sickening snap, her jaw came loose and for a moment the forest was silent as the barbarian stood, then spat.
Aerie watched this in horror. She of course had no idea what had gone on here; maybe this pack had been up to no good. But they had been fleeing, and the cool way this man now turned to regard her like she were something on display in a museum having just a second ago been locked in a life or death struggle, just deeply unsettled her.
“Job done,” he gruffly said, retrieving his axe.
“Job… done?” Aerie blinked, still sorting through everything she just saw. “You had to kill all of them? Even the pups?”
He shrugged, “they were monsters.”
“They were children!”
He looked at her, heaving the axe onto his shoulder as he began to swagger her way. Aerie flinched; she had magical contingencies if she was attacked, but still this man towered two feet over her and was clearly a strong warrior. She would rather not have to fight him up close. Instead he swaggered on by, his weight forcing her aside as he warned, “they were in my way.”
