Seagulls seemed to scream overhead as Yashira stretched out on the sand dune. A haphazard couple of blankets had been tossed down to keep her outfit as sand free as possible. Pulled out of her usual working clothes into something more summery, the sun seemed to warm parts of her soul that she hadn't realised were cold. Her sun hat and glasses seemed to keep out most of the glare. She was sure it was Charlie's idea to have a nice vacation after the nonsense in the Eldeen Reaches. It seemed like only yesterday he suggested it on the train home from Passage.
She took a deep sip of some delightful fruity cocktail Ban had whipped up from a stash he brought with him. Everything felt rosy and calm for the first time in what seemed like forever. Nerys sat beside her, nose deep in some trashy novel Yashira had never heard off, Ban was cooking, Charlie and Damien were off having a walk and she could hear the soft goblin snoring of Ruckus as he dosed in the sun.
"Oh my god Yashira, this place is like so beautiful." she heard the pink hued words before the full ensemble of pink and white patterns pulled into her view. Chantalyn Sarhain. With some strawberry ice cream. Where did she get strawberry ice cream? Yashira frowned - there was something...off about all of this, something cold and heavy starting to weigh her down like an anchor. But it's just strawberry ice cream, why would that cause an issue? Yashira looked behind the blonde woman to see the form of Drego fucking Sarhain loaded up with a whole heap of similarly pink items. "I am like, so glad you like, recommended this place."
Yashira looked at Chantalyn and then back at the group. She didn't remember that conversation. She remembered discussing with Charlie on the train from Passage and we decided to go straight...
No. No no no no no. If we went straight from Sharn to this beach, when did she ever meet Chantalyn? More to the point, she couldn't quite recall how they travelled here. Train most likely. But the actions in her memory were fuzzy, partial regurgitation of other train journeys she had been on with the group. The spidery connections of causality were being severed at eash logical reasoning, each careful examination of the time line. She couldn't remember what country this was supposed to be or what sea that she could smell the spray of.
"Nerys." Yashira said, somewhat ignoring the comments from Chantalyn. "Where is this beach?" Nerys looked up from their book, smiling softly.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure it's Aundair. Damien recommended the place." Nerys nodded, "Are you getting too much sun, Yash?" Yashira frowned a little, that was absolutely not what she remembered. It was bad enough that this simple moment of peace couldn't last but something or somebody was messing with her memories. Everyone's memories. What for? To get us all here in a single place?
Oh you should be careful with the sun, Shirri." Chantalyn said before licking some ice cream. The motion was a little on the flustering side but she did not have time to deal with stupid sexy Sarhains right now. "Especially with like, your whole skin situation. Very unhot." Drego placed down the collection of Chantalyn's items and stared quizzically at Yashira. Of course. Of course he had to be here.
"Yes, detective, let's get you under one of the parasols." Drego said, the usual joie-d'vivre muted. "Chantalyn, you can place down your own deck chair." There was a faux protest and Yashira stood up from the mound, walking over to under a large blue parasol. Drego had followed her, his face unusually solemn. "So, thoughts on the situation?"
"Situation?"
"That we have suddenly appeared in some beach area with modified memories of getting here, for reaons unknown?" Yashira frowned at him before he relented. "It is not my fault you're so easy to read."
She rubbed her temples, trying to ignore any distractions. Especially Drego - I am a distraction with stupid chest...wait, what?
"Why is your chest hair like that." she said, almost an accusation than a question.
"Oh, I don't have any. Too sick a hobgoblin." Yashira and Drego turned around to see someone that was absolutely not a hobgoblin. In the recesses of her mind, there had definitely something like them before bu she couldn't quite grab onto the exact phrase. Regardless, they were a twitchy, lanky mess , mostly bald except with a thick ponytail of brown hair cascading down his back like a shitty waterfall. She didn't understand the rest of his clothing but she could pick up on sight that he must have similar powers to Damien, perhaps some sort of teleportation powers. The general twitchiness, the pinprick eyes and various unknown substances littering his face indicating some sort of substance use. Drug use and high level magic was not especially a combination that she liked having to deal with.
"Apologies but I don't believe we've met." Drego said, whatever was ticking away in the silvered machinery of his mind beyond what Yashira could ascertain but mind reading is for kalashtar and con artists. She knew how he operated, she had seen it enough by this point. "I am Drego Sarhain and this is Detective Yashira Medani." The "hobgoblin" stretched out a hand.
"Kyn." the hobgoblin said. Yashira shook his had and immediately regretted it for it was sticky as an ooze. "Anyway, yeah, I'm just here for the party. You two aren't narcs are ya? You both have narc energy. Full offence. Never met anyone with the first name detective that wasn't a fucking narc."
Yashira blinked a few times before looking over at Drego who had an expression on his face that was half way between concern and bursting out laughing. It somewhat looked painful. "What party?" she said after a few moments. The one named Kyn shrugged.
"I dunno but I reckon you should be having a few more guests soon." Kyn stopped what he was doing, sniffing the air. "Oh shit, those hot dogs smell amazing." He disappeared instantly, reappearing beside Ban who nearly hit him with the frying pan.
"There's more coming?" Drego said, frowning before looking around. Yashira stared as what seemed to be acres of pristine beach with no real signs of other people. She couldn't see roads or houses or anything aside from it. Where the fuck were they? There was a glimmer of movement as she saw the air warp and spasm suddenly, the area almost glowing. Yashira nodded over to it, both of them approaching it carefully when figures emerged from what she could only describe as a gap in reality. All six of them seemed to be wearing crudely made or filthy armour. One seemed to be some sort of tree, possibly from the Eldeen Reaches. A half orc and what seemed to be some winged armour following him diligently with glowing eyes. A rat shifter who looked like he hadn't bathed as long as Yashira had been alive. Some disgruntled looking dwarf. A huge, horned orc too.
"What are those tattoos." Yashira whispered. Drego's eyes were a little wide.
"That's not...that's not possible." he muttered, casually pulling a rapier from some pocket in his heavily patched shorts. "They're Ghaash'kala."
"And those are?"
"They fight demons in...well, the Demon Wastes. What the fuck are they doing here?" Drego said, a small twitch in his jaw showing the strain. Yashira sighed, pulling a dagger from her bag. She did not like this one bit.