RAVEN'S GAMBIT | Episode: 69: Rest, Ruin, and Revelry
The door groaned as the last makeshift barricade was wedged into place—Sir Cedric’s shield braced with a broken slab of masonry and wedged tight with Thalia’s composite longbow. Outside the small, square chamber, the Tomb of Horrors loomed silent and waiting. Inside, the surviving adventurers slumped to the floor, bone-weary and blood-slicked, adrenaline giving way to exhaustion.
Wave leaned against the wall, still dripping seawater across the floor beside Elowyn. Blackrazor was nowhere to be seen—along with Theron.
“We need rest,” Lira said, though her voice was raw. “Now.”
No one argued.
The room smelled of sweat, steel, and blood. The only light came from a dim cantrip Elowyn cast before collapsing against the far wall. Sir Cedric moved to her without hesitation, pulling her close. Their lips met in a familiar hush, and in a blink they were tangled together, kissing as though the world might end before morning—which, in this place, it very well might.
Tessa settled near the door, one dagger still in hand. Her eyes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, until she slid into sleep. In her dreams, Bran’s hand brushed hers, warm and calloused. His deep laugh surrounded her, soft as wind through mountain pines. The dream held no words, just the comfort of presence, of imagined safety.
Thalia yawned and pulled Elric close beside her. He hesitated only a second before letting her curl into his side. He stiffened at first, then relaxed with a sigh, resting his chin on her brow.
But the corner of the room became far less restful.
Thog grunted as he pulled Lira into his lap, the two of them already a tangle of limbs and stripped gear. She kissed him with a growl, wrapping her legs around his massive waist. Armor clattered aside, boots flung wildly as their bodies moved across the chamber like a chaotic storm. They slammed into the far wall, then the other, moaning, growling, uncaring of the cramped space or the others’ eyes.
“Really?” Thalia muttered, hiding her face in Elric’s shoulder.
Elric turned bright red but said nothing.
Elowyn stifled a laugh as Cedric continued his soft ministrations along her throat, kissing just behind her ear.
“Ow—gods—Thog!” Lira’s voice rang out like a clarion. “Do that again!”
Sir Cedric burst into a laugh, barely stopping between kisses. “Good thing we barricaded the door.”
Tessa stirred but did not wake. Thalia pulled the hood of her cloak tighter over her head, clearly wishing Elric would cast a Silence spell. Elric’s eyes remained firmly on the ceiling, as though staring hard enough might teleport him anywhere else.
A low thump echoed outside the barricade.
Everyone froze—except Thog, who didn’t seem to hear or care. Lira howled in pleasure, drowning out the noise.
The thump came again… then faded.
The silence that followed was not peace—but exhaustion pressing in like a tide.
Eventually, even passion gave way to sleep. One by one, the party drifted into slumber, tangled in pairs, bruised and battered and somehow still alive. The walls of the tomb stood silent around them, watching with ancient patience.
And somewhere, far above, the Citadel loomed… waiting.