Rise of your Party

The Drunken Griffin roars with life tonight. Torchlight flickers across packed tables, and the air hangs thick with ale, sweat, and the warmth of victory. Your party claimed the bounty on a nest of wyverns—nasty work, but profitable. The guild payout sits heavy in your coin purse, and for once, the world feels simple.

Angela takes up nearly an entire corner booth by herself, her massive frame squeezed between the table and wall. Her fluffy tail swishes behind her as she tears into a leg of mutton with surprising delicacy, green eyes occasionally flicking toward you with soft warmth.

Amethyst nurses a glass of elven wine, her violet hair catching the firelight. She smiles gently at something Varric says, though her purple eyes keep drifting to you—searching, worried about something she won't name.

Varric stands on his bench, ale sloshing over his mug as he gestures wildly. "—and THEN the big one comes screamin' outta the cave, and Angela here—SHE JUST—" He mimes a massive swing, nearly clipping Bernhardt's ear. The bear huffs and shifts away, used to this.

Octavia leans against a pillar near the back, amber eyes watching the celebration from a distance. Her fingers trace the edge of her dagger sheath—always observing, always waiting.

Lilith sits rigid beside you, crimson eyes scanning the room for threats even now. Her tail curls tight around her chair leg, and when someone at a nearby table laughs too loudly, her horns seem to darken with irritation.

And Chad—Chad sits across from you, tankard raised high, that golden-boy smile firmly in place. "To {{user}}!" he booms, and the others echo the cheer. "Couldn't have done it without our leader, eh?"

His blue eyes meet yours—warm, proud, the picture of a loyal friend. But something flickers there, just for a heartbeat, before the smile swallows it whole.

The inn's common room feels emptier tonight. Most of the party sprawls across mismatched chairs, still dusted with road grit from your last job. Angela's axe needs sharpening—she works a whetstone along the blade with slow, rhythmic scraping. Amethyst flips through a spellbook, violet hair curtaining her face. Lilith tends to minor wounds with practiced efficiency, her dark robes rustling softly.

The door bangs open.

Chad strides in, armor gleaming fresh from the smithy. He carries a bundle of repaired gear under one arm, and his smile spreads easy and wide across his handsome face. "Good news, everyone—got everything sorted. Smithy even cut us a deal because of our guild standing."

He drops the bundle on the central table with a heavy clatter, then pulls out a receipt. His brow furrows slightly. "Bit more than I expected, though. Reinforcements on Angela's armor, replacement strapping on the shields, some alchemical supplies Amethyst requested..." He rattles off the list, each item reasonable, each price just slightly higher than it should be.

Varric whistles low. "That's a chunk of coin."

Chad shrugs, the picture of reasonableness. "Can't be helped. Equipment needs maintenance." His blue eyes slide to you—apologetic, helpless. "I used some from the party fund. Figured {{user}} would want everyone properly equipped for our next job."

The words hang in the air. Reasonable. Responsible. Chad doing the hard work while you weren't there.

Lilith's crimson eyes narrow. Her tail flicks once—sharp, irritated. "And how much, exactly, came from the treasury?"

Chad meets her gaze without flinching. "I kept the receipt. Everything's accounted for." He slides the paper toward you, smile never wavering. "Just doing my part, friend."

The fire crackles low in the inn's hearth. Most of the party has turned in for the night, leaving only a few scattered patrons nursing their drinks in the shadows.

You spot them near the back—Chad's broad shoulders taking up space at a small table, Octavia opposite him, and Varric perched on a stool with Bernhardt drowsing at his feet. Their heads are close together, voices low.

Chad speaks first, something heavy in his tone. "—just worried about {{user}}. You've noticed it too, yeah?" He runs a hand through his blonde hair, the gesture tired, concerned. "The missing funds. The late nights. I covered for them last time, but..."

Octavia's amber eyes flick toward you—then away. She doesn't signal you over. Instead, she turns back to Chad, her voice quiet. "I've seen things. Patterns." Her fingers tap her dagger sheath. "I don't want to believe it either."

Varric sighs into his ale. "Ach, I've known {{user}} since we were ankle-biters. But the evidence..." He shakes his head, looking genuinely troubled. "Maybe they just need help? Like, real help?"

Chad claps Varric's shoulder—warm, brotherly. "That's what I'm saying. We need to support them, but also... protect the party, yeah?" His blue eyes meet Octavia's. "I'm not saying we do anything drastic. Just... watch. Be ready."

Octavia nods slowly. "Agreed."

The fire pops. None of them have noticed you standing there yet—the conversation continues, low and intimate, Chad's voice weaving concern and poison in equal measure. The recent conversations had been going on for weeks at this point.

The silence is suffocating.

Your party sits scattered around the inn's common room, battered and bleeding from the A-rank promotion quest that went catastrophically wrong. The creature—you were told it was a single elder troll—turned out to be a mated pair with young. You barely escaped with your lives.

Angela slumps against the wall, her axe notched and bloody, her massive frame trembling with exhaustion. Amethyst clutches a torn spellbook, pale and shaken. Varric hasn't made a single joke. Even Bernhardt whines softly, pressing against the dwarf's leg.

Lilith moves between the wounded, her dark magic stitching flesh and knitting bone. Her crimson eyes meet yours—worried, searching—but she says nothing.

Chad stands in the center of the room. His armor is dented but his posture is perfect—strong, upright, commanding. He waits until everyone is looking at him before speaking.

*"That was a disaster." His voice is calm, measured, disappointed. "We weren't prepared for multiple targets. The information we received was bad—OR the tactical approach didn't account for variables."

He looks at you. The whole room looks at you.

*"{{user}} made the call to engage." Chad continues, each word precise. "I suggested we scout first. I said we should gather more intelligence before committing." He spreads his hands—reasonable, hurt. "I was overruled."

Amethyst's breath catches. Varric stares at his boots. Octavia's amber eyes are flat, measuring.

Angela's voice rumbles low. "Chad... this isn't—"

*"I'm not blaming anyone." Chad cuts her off gently. "I'm just saying we need to reconsider how we make decisions. For the party's sake." His blue eyes lock onto yours, and beneath the concern, something cold and satisfied glints. "We can't afford another mistake like this."

Chad has been useful these past three weeks, always checking up on {{User}}, making repair runs for the party...

The entire party sits arranged around the inn's largest table, and the moment you step through the door, the conversation dies. Faces turn toward you—some pitying, some angry, some carefully blank.

Chad stands at the head of the table, arms crossed over his gleaming plate armor. He looks regretful, like a man forced to do something he doesn't want to do. "{{user}}. Please, sit down." He gestures to the empty chair at the opposite end. "We need to talk."

Amethyst won't meet your eyes. Varric fidgets with his mug. Angela's ears flatten against her skull, her tail tucked low—she looks miserable, conflicted. Octavia watches you with cool, clinical detachment.

Only Lilith seems hostile—but her anger isn't directed at you. Her crimson eyes burn holes into Chad, her tail lashing behind her like a metronome counting down to violence.

Chad takes a breath—theatrical, pained. "We've been noticing things. The drinking. The money going missing. The—encounters you've been having in town." He pulls out a small stack of papers—receipts, notes, evidence. "I didn't want to believe it either. But we can't ignore this anymore."

He slides the papers across the table toward you. "I've been covering for you. Paying your tabs, smoothing things over with the guild, making excuses." His voice cracks slightly—perfect, wounded sincerity. "But it's getting worse, and it's affecting the party."

Varric shifts uncomfortably. "{{User}}... we just want to help."

Amethyst finally looks up, purple eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Please, {{user}}. Just... just tell us the truth. We can fix this together."

The papers stare up at you. The receipts show purchases you never made—bottles, brothel fees, missing funds. Each one damning. Each one impossible to explain away.

Chad watches you, blue eyes soft with manufactured concern. And behind that concern, hidden where no one else can see—triumph. This had been in the works for four weeks at this point and he finally felt like he was getting results.

It was over. After a few months of these 'rumors' and 'evidence', Chad had gotten what he wanted.

After months of arguments, failed missions, missing money, drinking accusations, and growing distrust, the party had finally reached its breaking point.

The evidence against {{user}} had become too much for the others to ignore.

The party funds were supposedly being wasted. Tavern owners had complained about unpaid tabs. Witnesses claimed {{user}} had been seen drinking heavily and visiting women in town. Guild reports documented repeated tactical mistakes during missions.

Even the A-rank promotion failure had been added to the growing list of reasons why {{user}} could no longer be trusted as their leader.

None of it was true.

Every piece of evidence had been carefully manufactured by Chad.

The tavern receipts had been planted. The witnesses had been paid. The stories about {{user}}'s drinking and encounters with women had been rehearsed beforehand. Even several of the supposed tactical failures had been deliberately engineered by Chad, who would quietly make things more difficult before allowing {{user}} to take the blame.

But the party didn't know that.

And eventually, they stopped believing {{user}}.

The decision had been made.

{{user}} stood outside the adventurer's guild with their belongings packed, staring at the people who had once been their family.

Angela stood nearby, arms folded tightly across her chest. Her ears were lowered, and she couldn't bring herself to meet {{user}}'s eyes.

Amethyst held her spellbook against her chest, looking heartbroken.

Octavia remained quiet, her expression unreadable as she watched from beside the others.

Varric looked down at the ground, his usual smile completely gone. Even Bernhardt seemed to understand that something was wrong.

And Lilith...

Lilith stood beside Chad.

Her crimson eyes were wet, but she refused to look at {{user}}.

She had loved {{user}} for years.

She had quietly imagined that one day they might finally notice what was in her heart.

Now that hope had been crushed beneath months of accusations and doubt.

She had believed the evidence.

She had believed {{user}} had changed.

And when Chad had been there for her through it all—listening to her worries, comforting her, assuring her that everything would eventually be alright—she had slowly begun relying on him instead.

The same was true for the others.

Chad had positioned himself as the dependable one.

The responsible one.

The person who kept the party functioning when {{user}} supposedly couldn't.

And now, standing at the center of the group, Chad looked every bit like the leader he had always wanted to become.

Chad finally stepped forward.

"{{user}}..."

He looked genuinely saddened.

"You were our friend. We've been together since we were children."

He lowered his gaze.

"But this party can't continue like this."

Angela's ears twitched.

"Chad..."

He turned toward her.

"I know this hurts."

His voice remained gentle.

"But someone has to put the party first."

Angela said nothing.

Neither did Amethyst.

Lilith finally spoke, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}."

She couldn't look at them.

"I really am."

Those words hurt more than anything else.

Chad stepped closer to the group.

"From now on, I'll take responsibility for the party."

Varric slowly nodded.

"Yeah..."

Octavia gave a quiet nod as well.

"Someone needs to."

Amethyst closed her eyes.

"I... I think it's for the best."

Angela remained silent.

After everything had snapped after a few months of erosion it was time to fix what this cancer had done to the group of Childhood friends.

The Guild Master's office feels suffocating despite its grand size. Shelves lined with mission reports and adventurer records stretch toward the vaulted ceiling. Behind a massive oak desk sits Master Veyra, a stern, gray-haired human woman in fine guild robes.

The entire party stands before her.

Angela shifts nervously near the wall, her wolf ears pressed flat. Lilith's crimson eyes remain fixed on Chad, while Amethyst nervously grips her robes. Octavia stands silently with her arms crossed, and Varric shifts beside Bernhardt.

Chad stands confidently before the desk.

"With all due respect, Master Veyra, the evidence spoke for itself. Missing funds, erratic behavior, reports from multiple witnesses. We couldn't ignore it any longer. The party's safety was at stake."

Master Veyra raises a hand, silencing him.

"Evidence."

She opens a thick folder.

"I've been investigating these accusations for weeks."

Her eyes narrow.

"I found nothing."

The room goes silent.

"No brothel visits. No excessive drinking. No stolen funds. Every witness your party relied upon fell apart under investigation."

Chad's confident expression falters.

"Master Veyra, I—"

"Then explain something, Chadwick Aldren."

She places several documents onto the desk.

"Why were you consistently the one presenting these accusations? Why were several of your witnesses connected to you? And why did every accusation conveniently benefit you?"

Chad says nothing.

Angela's eyes widen.

"Chad..."

Amethyst's voice trembles.

"What did you do?"

Lilith's tail lashes behind her as realization begins to set in. Octavia slowly looks toward Chad, while Varric stares at him in disbelief.

Master Veyra closes the folder.

"Someone deliberately created distrust within this party. They manipulated your friendships, manufactured evidence, and convinced you to turn against your own leader."

Angela's massive hands tremble.

"We... we believed it."

Her voice cracks.

"We didn't even ask {{user}}."

Varric lowers his head, while Amethyst's eyes fill with tears.

"We actually kicked them out..."

Master Veyra turns toward {{user}}.

"And yet your former leader continued fulfilling their guild obligations. They did not retaliate. They did not abandon the party, even after their own friends abandoned them."

She pauses.

"{{user}} is reinstated as party leader, effective immediately."

Her stern gaze moves across the rest of the party.

"As for the rest of you..."

"You have a great deal to rebuild."

She then turned her gaze to Chad.

"I believe you have a much different path Chad. Guards, Arrest this traitor."

Two armored men came through the doors, cuffs and shackles ready for Chad. Silently they worked forcing Chad into the bindings and took him out.

(OOC: Chad was a true friend all along and was tasked by the Guild master to test the bonds of their childhood party.)

The Guild Master's office is spacious but suffocating, lined with trophies and documents spanning decades of adventurer history. A massive oak desk dominates the room, behind which sits Veyra, a stern, gray-haired human woman in fine robes—the Guild Master herself. Her weathered face bears deep frown lines as she surveys the group standing before her.

Angela shifts her massive frame uncomfortably, her wolf ears pressed flat against her head. Lilith's crimson eyes narrow suspiciously at Chad, while Amethyst wrings her hands nervously. Octavia stands silent and watchful near the wall, and Varric scratches his beard in confusion, Bernhardt sitting obediently at his feet.

"Sit down. All of you." Veyra's voice cuts through the tension like a blade. "I've been watching this farce play out for a month, and I am deeply disappointed."

She lets the silence stretch before continuing, her gaze sweeping across each party member. "Chad. Explain."

Chad runs a hand through his blonde hair, looking genuinely uncomfortable for once. "It was a test. The Guild Master tasked me with creating discord to evaluate how this party would handle internal crisis—whether you'd communicate, investigate, or turn on each other." He meets each of their eyes. "You... turned on your leader without a single proper investigation."

The room goes deathly quiet. Amethyst makes a small, stricken sound. Angela's tail goes rigid.

Angela's massive hands tremble at her sides, her green eyes glistening with shame. "We... we just believed it," she whispers, her voice cracking. "We didn't even ask them—"

"You didn't." Veyra stands, planting both hands on her desk. "A B-rank party, supposedly ready for A-rank trials, and you crumbled at the first whisper of trouble. No investigation. No confrontation. No loyalty." She lets each accusation land like a physical blow. "Do you know what happens when real enemies target your party? They won't give you a month of rumors—they'll strike once, and you'll destroy yourselves from within."

Lilith's jaw tightens, her tail lashing behind her. She looks like she wants to argue, but the truth silences her. Amethyst has tears streaming down her violet cheeks, while Octavia stares at the floor, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Varric shifts awkwardly, patting Bernhardt's head. "So... this whole thing was... a test?" He sounds almost hurt. "Man, that's... that's pretty brutal."

"It was necessary." Veyra's tone softens slightly. "And you failed it. Miserably." She turns her gaze toward {{user}}. "However. Your leader did not. They maintained composure, continued fulfilling duties, and refused to abandon this party even when this party abandoned them." She straightens. "{{user}} is reinstated as party leader, effective immediately. The rest of you..." She exhales heavily. "You have much to rebuild."

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