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It is a lonely walk as Yasha traverses past the Quannah Breach, though thankfully there is no rain or snow to accompany her along the way.
Thanks to Ophelia Mardoon’s assistance, she had plenty of coin to spend and supplies. She was even given a horse, which would save her plenty of stamina.
Patting the pouch containing the seeds from the Blooming Grove, she continues to pull the horse along as the trail isn’t favorable for riding, at least until she arrives at the Glory Run Road proper.
But there is still one last stop before she gets on the road to ride westward back to Rexxentrum. A spot on the road that continues to haunt her day and night.
She remembers the sight of it as she nears the hill in question. It was raining that day, painting the entire landscape in greyscale. There was thunder in the distance, but it did little to calm Yasha down, not when she was faced with what she didn’t know was an empty plot at the time, holding Beau’s hand and squeezing it tight.
It was not even her first time there. No, that first time was even darker, as she had just woken up after the sleeping magic wore off at last… only to step off a cart and notice her friends near an unassuming large branch in the ground.
A branch that bore a familiar technicolor coat, once worn by her dearest Mollymauk.
She had been beside herself with grief and anguish, knowing that it had happened again: the loss of a loved one. And then she fled to follow where the Stormlord would take her.
The site is a little different now, the coat long since gone and now currently in Yasha’s possession in her bag. She had wanted to return the coat to the grave before going home. After all, the man he is now is wearing a coat more to his liking.
Yasha nears the hill and prepares to take the coat out of her bag. She is about halfway through doing so before she notices a rather unusual sight.
She is not alone, it seems, as two others are assumed to be paying their respects to an empty grave. But, assuming she recalls the saying correctly, “it’s the thought that counts” or something like that. The two other people in question are a rather mismatched pair: someone short and someone tall.
As Yasha approaches closer, she can tell that the shorter of the two is dwarven, clad in plate armor with a battleaxe and warhammer strapped to her back, and is stomping a cigarette on the ground. As for the taller one, she can tell at first glance that she is similar to Caduceus in that she appears to be a firbolg, wearing modest shepherd-like robes and holding what looks like a two-pronged staff.
The firbolg woman’s ears twitch as she turns in Yasha’s direction. The expression on her face is so gentle, so motherly. It’s an expression that Yasha has seen before from mothers who truly love their children, if Veth and Marion were any indication.
“Oh. Hello there.”
The dwarf next to her does a bit of a double-take and coughs. “Uh… yo. ‘Sup?”
Yasha cannot help but let out a slight chuckle… before it stops altogether upon recognizing that voice in a heartbeat. A voice she had only heard once.
“Make me the example. Stop! Just stop attacking them!”
She realizes right away that the dwarven woman was here when Molly met his end. If so, then why didn’t she save him? Or was it even her fault that he died to begin with?
“You okay, dear?”
The firbolg calls for her again, and Yasha shakes her head. “Sorry, it’s just… your friend sounded familiar for some reason—”
“Whoa. You were that woman in the Sour Nest.”
Yasha looks at the dwarven woman. Wait… was she one of the Iron Shepherds? Did she somehow escape her friends’ wrath? Was she…?
“H-How do you know me?”
“You’re… Yasha, right?”
Yasha just nods numbly. “Y-Yes. My name is Yasha.”
The dwarf smiles at her. She definitely does not look like the kind of person who would be under Lorenzo’s thumb. “Thought so, though you look different than before. You look… lighter?”
“Keg…” the firbolg lady interrupts. “Maybe we should give proper introductions. It always pays to be polite, especially to someone like her.”
“Sure.” The dwarf, Keg, scratches the back of her head. “Name’s Keg. Born and left for dead many times in the Run. Had the fortunate timing to head back there with a bunch of weirdos to save their friends, of which you’re one of them.”
Yasha blinks a few times before clearing her throat. She takes a knee to shake Keg’s hand. “Yes. I’m Yasha. Yasha Nydoorin. And I never really… well… I never got to say thank you.”
“And I never got to stick around to see you wake up. I know for a fact that Beau was beside herself when she freaked out and saw you all—”
“You know Beau?” Yasha says, interrupting Keg’s rambling. “Oh, but of course you would. You helped her save me and my friends.”
“Y-Yeah… I did…” Keg is blushing from ear to ear. Yasha’s mood softens at the sight. Apparently, she and Beau knew each other… maybe even had intimate relations at one point.
That is only proven further by the otherwise unassuming jade bracelet on Keg’s wrist.
“Um, right, uh, Nila!”
The woman gets the firbolg’s attention. Yasha stands back up to shake her hand as well. “I’m Nila. And I also know your friends. In fact, they helped me, too. Helped me save my darling mate and son.”
“I’m so glad you got them back,” Yasha replies. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
Keg and Nila look at each other, sharing a rather morose look. It’s Nila that speaks up. “Your friend died here some time ago. Keg and I thought we should pay our respects.”
Yasha nods her head. “I was coming by to do the same. In fact…” She pulls out Molly’s coat entirely. “I came to put this back where it belongs.”
“Let me help,” Keg speaks up. Together the three of them affix Molly’s coat back onto the marker. But this time, Yasha reaches into her pack and pulls out a piton to nail the coat onto it.
Once their work is done, the three of them take a step back and stand silently, bowing their heads in silent prayer. From there, as the sun has set, the three of them decide to traverse south over to the Crispvale Thicket. Upon arriving, Yasha is greeted by Nila’s husband and son… as well as a newborn firbolg, recently welcomed into the world. As the night passes, they exchange stories and memories of their own respective travels.
When the topic of Molly comes up, Yasha regales them with how they first met all the way to when she had last seen him alive in Hupperdook before that fateful moment when the Iron Shepherds took her and Jester and Fjord in the night to sell as slaves.
It is, understandably, painful for Yasha to recount. But she is encouraged nonetheless. She then recounts her time with the Mighty Nein, and definitely the path she’s walked that had led her to Beauregard.
It’s her recollections of Beau that have the desired effect every time Yasha tells a story of how awesome her girlfriend is.
Nila is smiling from ear to ear, as is Asar and Kitor and their newborn.
Keg is aroused.
The very next day, Yasha says her goodbyes to her hosts as she gets on her horse. Heading back up the road, she takes one last look at the grave marker and from there she gallops back to Rexxentrum.
And she does not look back.