[ What the fuck?

The refrain has been bouncing through Vax's mind on a loop since he woke up in that tent. The only familiar thing he has is one of his daggers. Every single thing about this place is alien to him, and he'd be more resentful of it all if he hadn't so clearly been plunged into a battle.

Where is everyone? ghosts along beneath his more immediate objections, but Vax carefully sets that aside. If he starts worrying about where Vex'ahlia and the rest of Vox Machina has gotten off to, he'll get himself killed.

After all, the bigger issue here for Vax is how ill-suited he is to this kind of combat. One dagger (and a weapon better suited for Percy) against an opposing army? The gun is awkward in his hands as he looks up in disbelief before eyeing the top of the trench. ]

Give me a boost!

[ He'll figure out what to do with it when he gets up there and assess the incoming danger. ]

[ Retreating doesn't sit well with Vax. The urge to stand and fight even in an impossible situation with terrible odds is ingrained in him, no matter how many times he's found himself overwhelmed. If he could stop and just listen for a moment, maybe he could pick a few of their opposition off with his dagger, but he's lacking his Belt of Returning. It would be more involved than just aiming true at whatever enemies are perched in those trees. ]

This fucking—

[ Whatever objection he'd been intending to make cuts off as gunfire cracks through the air again. His face is pinched and irritated as he starts pulling knives out of the wall. They aren't anything like the weaponry he's missing (left behind?) but they'll do. ]

What's that?

[ From here, the note isn't visible. And Vax, who has never seen a cigar before, can't tell if it's useful or not. ]

[ The celebration takes Vax aback. It makes sense, but after his slapdash arrival he's barely acclimated to their mission. His relief feels unearned. Compared to the others here, Vax had barely done anything at all to ensure they made it to this boat and he's still prickling over the idea that they'd left a job half-finished behind them.

And he feels worse upon skimming the crowd and not finding any of the faces he'd been instinctively looking for. No Keyleth. No Percy. No Grog or Scanlan.

No Vex'ahlia.

Here, in the first moment of relative peace, Vax has time to process what that really means. He looks down into the cup that had been pushed into his hands and throws it back. He's going to need another. ]

Is this everyone?

[ He asks the first person whose attention he can draw from the merriment. None of the dead had been familiar to him. Maybe there was another place aboard this boat. Maybe there was another group. It was a stupid hope, but he can't stop himself from asking. He can't be alone here, can he? ]

[ Hit me with your best shot. ]