punderdome

[punderdome]

Infernal Jurisprudence: Chapter 7

Summary: Raphael’s prized investments explore an arcane tower.

[AO3]

Chapter 7: The Sussur Tree

Raphael was working on his contracts when he felt the twinge of a Sending spell on the back of his neck.

“Little Mouse.  Bulette.”   

Raphael immediately grabbed his scrying mirror.  Korrilla should have been more detailed.  She had an additional twenty two words.

His adventurers and his Mouse were fighting a Bulette in the Underdark.  Raphael watched the scene just to see the burning Tiefling get thrown several meters away by one of the monstrosity’s leaps.  She cried out in pain and hobbled as she tried to return to the fight.

The beast charged again, and Raphael watched as Tavara flew several meters away to avoid a clear collision.  He recognized the preemptive motion and the relatively soft landing as Korrilla using telekinesis to protect the Mouse from harm.

The Sharran had conjured guardians to protect her as she closed the distance, and the Bulette responded by spitting acidic phlegm into her face.  She shrieked and tried desperately to conjure water to rinse out her eyes.  The monster then closed its teeth on the Gith’s right arm, causing her to drop her blade as she cried out. 

The Warlock wielded a singing blade and fought back, coughing up dust and grime as the creature tried to prevent him from using his Eldritch blasts.  The vampling snapped the string of his bow and was spouting curses.  Meanwhile, the wizard stood lamely in the center of the chaos lobbing spells at the creature and not being targeted by its wrath.  Such a dumb beast to let the weakest amongst them wreak so much havoc.

Raphael felt like he was watching a mortal circus as his investments tried to kill the creature.  There was no organization of their efforts, only haphazard blows and spells.  As the monstrosity breathed a death rattle, the only one left unscathed was the donkey.

“Such a glorious day of victory!” the wizard proclaimed.  Raphael wanted to feed him to the mushrooms of the Underdark.

“Come on now,” the wizard urged.  “The tower is free and clear for us to retrieve the components.  It looks like a wonderful, safe place for us to rest and recover.”  The wizard blustered on as the Sharran patched them up as best she could, though weariness seemed to have engulfed them all.

Raphael watched with a sigh as the wizard plowed forward inattentively, causing the Warlock next to him to take a blast to the face from one of the arcane turrets surrounding the tower.

“Hells!” the Warlock exclaimed after finding cover.  The Gith used her one arm to dab a cloth doused in healing potion over the Warlock’s eye.  The Sharran looked over it urgently but found no lasting damage.

“A wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite.  But as this wizard’s not home, I say we take a peek,” the donkey said before leading the charge into the tower.

Raphael buried his face in his hands as his investments’ decision making grew even more inexplicable.  Additional arcane turret blasts within the tower to the Warlock's face nearly cost the him his Sending stone.  The Tiefling was limping with both Bulette bites and turret blasts to her kneecap.

“You promised us an easy afternoon of looting!” the vampling shouted at the wizard.  “Those were tower defenses not mushroom gardens!”

“Now that we’ve breached the tower, it shouldn’t be too much more before we find the alchemical components we’ve been looking for,” the donkey assured them.

It baffled Raphael’s mind that any of them were continuing to blindly follow that asshole any further into the tower in the states they were in.  The wizard had to be completely oblivious not to realize how battered and beaten his companions were between the Bulette and the tower defenses.

Raphael watched as Korrilla followed them, his adventurers using Featherfall to leap below to a peaceful garden containing a Sussur tree.

“Lenore’s notes do suggest that we could power her tower using Sussur blooms!”  Raphael was growing tired of listening to the wizard’s voice.  The wizard gestured towards the large Sussur tree in the garden, and none of the battered adventurers made a move towards it.

Eventually, Tavara stepped forward beneath the tree, and Raphael was awestruck at the sight.  The slightest breeze caused the tree to shed a multitude of glowing blue blooms.  Petals swirled around the Little Mouse’s face.  She was stunning in the pale blue light of the tree, carrying a bouquet of fallen blooms back to the tower.

Tavara’s face fell.  “I-” she started.  The wizard sauntered over to her and the Tiefling hobbled to her.  “My magic-”  The Tiefling took the bouquet of blooms from the Little Mouse, and she tried and failed to summon any amount of magic from her veins.

“This tree doesn’t sit well with you, does it?” the wizard inquired.  “It doesn’t sit well with me either.”

“My magic isn’t working-” Tavara’s voice held a sharp undercurrent of panic.  “I can’t.  It won’t respond to me.”  Any efforts she made to cast cantrips fizzled in her palms.

“Soldier, let’s get that elevator working and we’ll get you out of here.  Your magic will come back, but until then, stay close to Mama K.”  The Tiefling winked and Tavara nodded nervously.

The Tiefling fed the tower boiler with Sussur blooms, and the arcane tower had hummed to life, the lanterns flickering in the dim of the Underdark.  The elevator was humming with a pale blue glow.

The Tiefling herded her companions into the elevator.  Tavara crouched down to the floor, her eyes filled with tears as she tried to summon any cantrips.  The magic in Tavara’s hands continued to flicker and spark before dimming nto nothingness.  She tried again to summon lights from the Weave, but they faltered into the cold darkness once more.

“It’s not working-” she panicked.

“Don’t worry, my magic returned to me as soon as the blooms were discarded, I’m sure it’s just taking a little more time for you,” the wizard tried to comfort her.

“Tav, your magic will come back, don’t you worry,” the Warlock pulled her standing again but Raphael could see the panic brewing in her eyes.

Raphael knew of the mechanical automatons on the rooftop of the tower, serving the missing former occupant with hums and whirrs of their engines.  They would immediately recognize that his prized adventurers were not the long-deceased cleric and move to defend the tower.  His investments were in no state to challenge them: the burning Tiefling was limping and the Gith had carefully bandaged wounds on her right arm, the Warlock had hilariously taken two blasts from the Arcane tower to his face, the vampling’s bow string had snapped and needed to be replaced, the Sharran seemed like she was about to fall asleep at any moment in armor crusted with phlegm, Tavara’s magic was still sparking and uncontrollable, and it was highly unlikely they would send the Waterdhavian donkey to the rooftop alone.

They were exploring a lower floor of the tower, and the looming dangers were not something Raphael was confident Korrilla could handle on her own.  He set down the scrying mirror and snapped.

Raphael stood on the rooftop of the arcane tower.  His entrance was immediately observed by the three automatons.  The constructs gazed upon him with quietly turning gears and sharp clicking noises of joints that needed to be oiled.

“New sounds through damp and dark oppression break.  Is it the foe, that foul contemptuous heel?” the largest automaton addressed him.

Raphael addressed his mechanical audience.  “The wanderer follows the sweetest voice.  Their soul cannot breach their lonely heart-”

“An unbeknownst command by fools that would intrude.  Now steel shall ring: false tongue will speak no more,” the automaton responded as motors and gears whirred to life.  Raphael was irritated his performance was interrupted.

He called forth a shower of Hellfire that rained on the tower rooftop.  Steel chassis started to warp in the heat from Raphael’s power.  The air smelled of sulfur and burning oil.  Plumes of smoke rose from engines burned out and distorted.  There was a slight scent of the sweetness of burning Sussur essence.  The remains of the constructs glowed white with the heat from his power.

“The void presents the only choice, and thus, the wanderer must depart.”   Raphael concluded his verse.  

Raphael observed his handiwork with great pride.  The automatons were a twisted pile of metal and debris and would trouble his prized adventurers no longer.  He lightly tapped the toe of his boot against a mechanical hand laying still on the stones.  He gave another self-congratulatory kick to a Hellfire-singed servomotor with a smile on his face.  The mechanical skills on Prime Material were not nearly as advanced as the engineering of the Hells.

Raphael could hear the hum of the elevator and snapped to make his presence scarce.  He returned to his study and picked up his scrying mirror.  Tavara and her companions finished their search of the tower and returned to their camp to rest.

Raphael went to watch them in their camp as they prepared to rest after the evening meal.  He stood in the shadows to silently observe.

“Gale, I don’t know why, but my magic hasn’t returned,” Tavara’s voice was panicked as she showed him how her hand sparked and glimmered but whatever spell she was trying to cast had failed to manifest.

“Don’t be worried, my magic is as good as it was before we encountered the Sussur blossoms,” the wizard offered to console her.  Simpleton.  “I’m sure your magic will return as soon as you get some rest.”

Tavara nodded, but the wizard’s words failed to calm her.  He departed for his rest.

The Little Mouse slipped away and was kneeling by the edge of the dark river that flowed through her camp.  She held a bar of soap and was furiously scrubbing at her arms with a sponge.

“Damned pollen, damned petals.” she lamented under her breath.  Her voice was sharp and desperate.  Her arms were scrubbed raw.  She grabbed the sponge again and quickly wiped it over her raw and irritated skin.  After another round of washing, Tavara retreated to the cap of a wide orange mushroom and tried futilely to summon any amount of magic.  Tears were welling in her eyes.

“Little Mouse,” Raphael addressed her calmly.  His Mouse was teary, and in no mood for theatrics.

“Go away, Raphael,” Tavara’s voice broke.

“My, my, what troubles are you having, my dear?”  He knew her unresponsive magic was the source of her unrest but there was little chance she would admit it.

To his surprise, the Mouse was completely forthright with him.  “My magic isn’t working.”  Her voice trembled and tears fell down her cheeks in liquid form.  Raphael sat down next to her.

Raphael bade her to move closer to him.  The Little Mouse moved cautiously until they were within arm’s reach of one another.

“May I, my dear?” Raphael gave a long, theatrical bow as he reached towards her.  Tavara swallowed before nodding.  Raphael moved his body closer so that she was almost in his arms.  His hand moved towards her cheek, almost grazing her scales and wiping away her tears.  He leaned his face closer to her neck, and he heard a sharp hitch in her breath.  His hand briefly touched her ear before he ran his hand through her hair.

Tavara quickly gasped and grasped his shoulder.  “Raphael,” she murmured sharply.  The grip of her fingers on his doublet caused passion to coil within his chest, and the sound of his name on her lips was music to his ears.  The strokes of his fingers through her hair caused her to slightly lean into his touch, her breath ragged and uncertain.  Her lips were so close to his, it would have taken very little movement to kiss her.  He stared deeply into her green eyes and didn’t let go of her gaze.  Her eyes were stunning.  Jade.  Scared.  Bright.  Raphael found what he had been looking for.

Raphael moved his body away from her with a grin.  Her eyes were wide with shock.  He handed her a small branch of Sussur flowers that had gotten caught in the Trobairitz knot she had styled into her hair.  She stared at the few blooms in her palms.

Raphael snapped and the Sussur blooms disappeared in a quick flash of fire.  “There, those blooms shouldn’t trouble you any further, Little Mouse.”

Tavara blinked at him.  “Thank you, Raphael.”  She held her palm out in front of her and relaxed as a steady stream of snowflakes poured forth into the dark.  She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Of course, my dear,” Raphael smugly leaned back on the mushroom cap.  Tavara blushed as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

Raphael chuckled.  “Well, it has been a pleasure, but I must be on my way.”  He rose and gave her a deep, theatrical bow.  Raphael snapped and left her alone in the dark.

[punderdome]

WIP Wednesday!

Short but sweet! Since we're at the last five chapters of Fine Print, I'm working on getting everything nicely wrapped up for Tav's marital adventures. Some fun characters are going to make an appearance. Enjoy!

“Raphael, I need to prepare some Sending spells,” Tav asserted as she stood in front of his desk.

“I am growing quite close to assaulting Zariel’s fortress, and that would be an incredible lapse in security,” Raphael sat back in his chair and looked up at her.  “What could possibly be so important that you would risk my plans being revealed?”

Tav stared back down at him.  “Wyll and Karlach have been leading another underground resistance against Zariel.  I don’t want them and their allies to be caught in the middle of your battles with Zariel.  They may be able to help you, or at least we can get them to stay out of your way.”

Raphael pondered her request.  “You still hold affection for your mortal friends?”

“Of course I do.  Can I at least bring them here to speak with them?  I doubt you want the Blade of Frontiers and one of Zariel’s best former agents working against you.”

Raphael sighed as he pondered Tav’s request.  “Should they decide to work against me, I could easily turn them both to ash and throw them in the chamber pot for my debtors to clean up,” he threatened halfheartedly.

Tav wasn’t amused.  “If you harm them in any way, you will not like what vengeance I will seek.”

Raphael chuckled.  “I do so enjoy seeing your ruthless side, my dearest, though it still needs to be further developed to meet the standards of the Hells.”  He gave a smug smile.  

“Will you let me send them a message to come here?” Tav asked again.  He was going to ask for something from her in return, but she wasn’t sure what.

Raphael nodded an assent.  “You may contact them and invite them here, but in return they must be willing to discuss negotiations with the resistance against Zariel in my favor.”

“Thank you, dear husband.”  Tav quickly left the study to find copper wire to send her message.

“Karlach, Wyll.  Come to the House of Hope.  It’s safe.  Let’s discuss the fight with Zariel.  Raphael can help.  I love you.  Tav.”

She couldn’t figure out two more words to say but figured her message should be enough.  Tav wasn’t sure what they knew about her relationship with Raphael, but getting them to trust him would be a monumental undertaking.

Later that afternoon, Tav was reading in the archive when she felt the prickle of a Sending spell on the back of her neck.

“Soldier!  House of Hope?  Raphael?  Gross.  Why are you in Avernus?  We’ll come to see you.  Don’t trust the cambion.  Be there soon.  Love you.”

[punderdome]

Oh um... oh my.... I'll be in whatever space I currently use for writing smut.

Some old screenshots?

Yes, please.

[punderdome]

WIP Wednesdays!

The Fine Print: Chapter 15: The Study

“Raphael,” Tav started, sitting down at the chair in front of his desk.  Raphael didn’t raise his gaze to meet her and continued his work comparing contract clauses and runes in the ledger.

“Dearest,” Raphael said curtly, carrying a sum from the bottom of the page and entering it into the relevant spot on the first line of the next page.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, are you well?” Tav inquired, trying to keep the conversation short.  She was hoping for a quick kiss and to be sent to bed or to convince her devilish husband to take a break for the evening and join her.

Raphael paused to dip his quill into ink.  “I am well, Dear Mouse, though I am behind in my work.  I have contracts that need to be finalized and presented to their signatories within a short time.”

“What are you calculating?” Tav asked him, interrupting his work.  Raphael glowered at her.

“I am calculating exchange rates between soul power and soul coins.  Some of my more valued contracts command higher price points on the soul market.  Time not being infinite, I need to prioritize writing various contracts, and it is necessary to compare the souls’ values.”  Raphael lowered his eyes to the exchange charts in the ledger.

Tav risked Raphael’s wrath and picked up one of the contract scrolls that he had set aside and read through the contents.  Raphael hadn’t gone through the final edits on this contract for a disgraced patriar who was seeking to sell the soul of his spinster daughter in exchange for his family’s status being restored in the upper nobility and substantial wealth for an inheritance.  Tav sighed.  She hated reading contracts by proxy where the signatories had standing to sell the souls of their slaves or children instead of losing their own.  If the cowards sought aid from the Hells, they should at least be prepared to pay the costs themselves.

Tav read through the rest of the contract and the stipulations.  Proxy contracts tended to be far less valuable in power than contracts where the signatories sold their own souls, so it made sense why Raphael had deprioritized this patriar’s greedy plight.

Tav noticed an inconsistency in the description of wealth distribution that the patriar in question was searching to secure for the inheritance of his two sons.  Raphael could change two clauses with equivalent meanings in Common tongue and completely change the value of the contract.

“Raphael, can I have a quill?” Tav asked, looking up at him.

“Tavara-” Raphael warned firmly.

Tav snapped her fingers impatiently, waiting for Raphael to present her a contract quill to write her notes.  He clenched his jaw and handed her a quill to continue working on the draft.

Tav made a few quick notes in the margin.  Raphael watched her tentatively.  While he normally would have been interested to see what schemes she would come up with, he didn’t appear completely amused.

Tav made a quick edit to another clause of the work and handed it back to Raphael.  Raphael started to read through her notes on the proxy contract, raising an eyebrow at her.

“If you adjust this clause and also ask that the patriar secure potential contractual discussions with you and his noble children, it will remove the proxy limitation on the contract and the patriar is guaranteed to default, giving you his soul instead of his daughter’s.”

[punderdome]

some screenshots i took in my raphael playthru HES SO HANDSOME GYAHHHHHH i cant do this anymore chat

[punderdome]

Probably going to post a new chapter of HoH tomorrow. Here’s a little preview of things to come xD

[punderdome]

Raphael, son of Mephistopheles. It’s funny how two things have coincidentally kept me away from social media and limited my personal art time: a demanding workload and wanting to avoid spoilers as I (slowly) continue my run of Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

But my forgetfulness worked in my favor this time—I just realized I never posted this drawing of Raphael here!

[punderdome]

Raphael always gets what he wants

POV you saved the Baldur's Gate, all of your friends and yourself. You even get some pretty shiny diadem. Ah, everything is just great.

[punderdome]

Highly underrated pairing, these two helpful lovelies

OOH how about Omeluum and Blurg for bridal style? :3c 💚

Yes! Levitation is extremely helpful hehe

Full list of prompts -> HERE

[punderdome]

Wednesday Treatos!

I got a request from a user on AO3, and I thought about making it a little response, but then it morphed into a treato. Enjoy!

18+

From: hed i can't stop thinking about one thing from earlier chapters. Can we finally see Tav calling him 'my fuzzy owlbear'? I need to see his reaction 🤣

Pet Names

Tav watched Raphael button and straighten one of his finer doublets as she admired him from the sofa in his bedchamber.  He was carefully fastening the golden cufflinks and adjusting his undershirt so the hem sat tastefully over the collar of his doublet.  He appeared in human form and brushed any wrinkles out of his sleeves.

���Admiring something, my dear?” Raphael teased as she watched him primp.

“Always, dear husband,” Tav said back with a chuckle.

She stood up and went to assist him in straightening his appearance, smoothing his hair back behind his ears, gently touching his forehead and missing the absence of his horns while in human guise.  A smug smile appeared on his face as he lowered his mouth to her jaw and left a trail of kisses that lingered at her earlobe and softly traced down her neck.

Tav arched into him, gripping the collar of his doublet and pulling him tightly to her.  She moved her hands to grind her hips against him and tried to capture his mouth with hers.  Raphael placed a finger over her mouth, immediately foiling her plan to stick her tongue down his throat, rip his doublet off, and fuck him on the sofa.

“Tsk tsk,” Raphael chided with a lusty purr.  “I have deals to finalize on Prime Material, my dearest.”  He had a smug grin on his face as he removed her hands from his ass.

Raphael slowly removed himself from her embrace and kissed her hand.  He took a few steps towards the bedchamber door.  “Until then, I fear I must leave you waiting, my eager Little Mouse.”

Tav sighed, frustrated, and watched him turn to leave.  She smirked.  “Until then, my Fuzzy Owlbear,” she taunted quietly with a sultry undertone to her voice.

Raphael immediately stopped and turned to her, an eyebrow cocked and his mouth twisted firmly in a look of displeasure.

“What did you call me, Little Mouse?” he demanded as he walked back towards her with his eyes glowering.

Tav immediately closed her mouth and tried to think of anything more appropriate that she could pretend she had called him instead.  My rusty sitting chair?  My lucky silverware?  My fussy derriere?  My lusty debonair?  Yes!  That was the one.

“I said, ‘until then, my Lusty Debonair,” Tav lied with a bright smile on her face.

“Hmm,” Raphael started.  “It sounded to me like you had called me an undignified pet name, Little Mouse.”  He gripped her chin gently, tilting her head up to look at him.  His eyes narrowed as he stared her down, his voice low.  She knew he was trying to catch her in his claws.  He removed his hand from her chin.  “Though, it appears I was mistaken.  I would be quite displeased if I found you weren’t treating your Lord husband with the appropriate amount of respect.”  His growl in her ear was dripping with desire as he toyed with her.  “I might have just needed to punish you, my naughty, naughty Little Mouse.”  He licked his lips lightly before taking a step back.

“Oh, but Raphael, I am a naughty, naughty Little Mouse,” Tav flirted back, her cheeks flushed.

“Is that so?” Raphael’s smug smile came back.

“Yes, so incredibly naughty,” Tav insisted, slowly tracing a finger over the neckline of her dress, she gently bit her lip.  Raphael watched intently and grinned before slowly shaking his head no.

“I must take my leave to finalize my contracts, naughty Little Mouse,” he teased again.  “You will just have to wait.”

Tav moved her hand through the slit in her skirts and pulled off her lacy, black smallclothes.  She pressed them into Raphael’s hand.

“Until then, my Lusty Debonair.”

[punderdome]

Let me romance the devil man, Larian!

"Exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair - that's when you'll come knocking on my door."

[punderdome]

Sometimes you have to get the bug fixes... or romance every single romance option at the same time. Or turn everyone into Raphael.

it's annoying that video games disable achievements when you install mods. i DID kill alduin who cares if thomas the tank engine was there

[punderdome]

So I did a thing… pt. 2 (lmao) @punderdome

Here are a few memes I made from my favorite scenes in ‘Infernal Jurisprudence’:

Chapter 6:

BONUS (works for canon Raphael also):

[punderdome]

Raphael Treatos!

@crystalizedbloodd You requested a Mephistopheles fic, and here it is! I do still have plans for a multichap, but until then, I hope you enjoy your treato.

Songbird

The arrival of Infernal slavers at his court was a welcome sight.  The Lord of the Eighth enjoyed examining the goods only to reject them and send them to lesser Hells or bring the poor fools to be tortured in his dungeons or stored in his menagerie.

Mephistopheles sat on his throne and motioned for the slavers to show him their fresh wares.  A chained man emerged from the box, struggling against his restraints.  It wasn’t long before the foolish man was cowering and trying to savor his own body heat.  The raging barbarian was a good find for the menagerie and his arenas, and Mephistopheles motioned for his valets to provide the slavers with coin.

The cambions monitoring the box prodded at the next poor fool with a stick.  Mephistopheles waited impatiently to see what else the slavers had brought him.  A disgraced paladin, perhaps?  Some sort of foolish commoner who was down on their luck?  With the amount of prodding it took to bring the next mortal forward, they had to be delectable.

A pale, frail young human woman stumbled out of the box.  The slaver’s lash nipped impatiently at the back of her ankles, and she stumbled forward.  She was barely dressed, whatever clothes she had been wearing prior having been shredded by the slavers or the other beings in the box.

Her bare feet stepped quickly on the ice of the court floor.  She said nothing, but didn’t shrink in his presence.  Mephistopheles looked the girl over before nodding again to his valet to pay for his newest slave.

The girl was shuddering in the chill of the Canian atmosphere.  Mephistopheles motioned her forwards with the curl of a claw.  The girl resisted, moving quickly and trying to prevent her poor, mortal flesh from freezing.  It only took a moment before one of Mephistopheles’s guards pushed her forwards.  She slipped on the ice and fell to her knees before his throne.

The Lord of the Eighth tutted before one of his servants picked the frozen girl up off the floor and pressed her into his lap.  It only took a snap before an Infernal fur sat in his hands and he wrapped it around his newest trinket.

“What skills and value do you have, girl?” the Archdevil asked.  “I hope you are worth the price that I paid for you.”

She sat firm and unmoving.  “I was a bardess, before, my Lord.”

Mephistopheles stroked the fur that covered her shivering form.  “And your instrument?”

“I sing, my Lord.”

Mephistopheles motioned impatiently for her to demonstrate.  The girl’s voice was initially shaky and dry, but it only took a few lines for her to relax as she sang, perched on his lap.

The mortal girl’s voice was pleasant.  Mephistopheles could see how she was successful enough to travel Toril before she was snatched up by Infernal slavers.

“I hope that pleases you, my Lord,” she murmured into his chest.  Mephistopheles snapped and she was taken away to his menagerie.  The archdevil would visit her the next time he wanted to view his trinkets.

A few days later, Mephistopheles wandered his dungeons and went to visit his pets.  The barbarian was pacing like a captured tiger.  That mortal would need to be tested in the arena, and soon.

Mephistopheles stopped in front of the cell that held his bardess.  The small creature was curled up in the Infernal fur, and seemed hesitant to come out of her cocoon.

When she saw him waiting outside of her bars, the bardess walked towards him quietly.  Her bare feet moved quickly over the icy floor to stop the potential for frostbite on the soles of her feet.  Mephistopheles stroked her face, and she seemed to melt into his touch, waiting for more warmth.

“How is my newest pet?” the archdevil inquired.

“Cold, my Lord,” she responded quietly.  He huffed.  Few of his prizes said anything other than that they were well treated when he strolled his menagerie.

Mephistopheles snapped to call over the keeper of his trinkets.  “See that a brazier is brought to her, and that she learns songs from the Hells.”  The order was taken easily, and Mephistopheles returned to his court.  It couldn’t be more than a day or two before his bardess would learn the songs he enjoyed.

The Lord of the Eighth visited her the following day at her cell.  A warm Hellfire brazier burned at the center of her cell.  She was still wearing the fur but seemed more content.

“My Lord,” his creature bowed to him.

“I wish for a song.”  Mephistopheles only needed to ask for it, and his bardess obliged.  She had learned the songs of the Hells in a short time, and the Lord of the Eighth was well pleased.

He sat in his court, ruling over Cania and asked for his guards to bring him the bardess.  She sat perched in his lap and would sing for him as he pleased.  A contented hum rumbled in his chest as she sang his favorites.

It was time for him to free the girl from her cage.

She sang sweetly below him as he took her in his bed.  Mephistopheles enjoyed the noises that she would make.  She was sweet.  He was warm.

Over and over again, she sang beneath him.

Mephistopheles kept her perched on his lap as he held court.  His mortal was becoming more and more fat and round.  She sang for him as often as he wished.  He patted her belly, eager to see what was contained within her.

The Lord of the Eighth could hear the cries of his songbird.  She was in a proper bed for her labors.  She was screaming and crying, her songs ringing through the Halls of Mephistar.

Mephistopheles knew this was her final song.  The scent of blood was heavy in the air.  He entered the birthing chamber and heard the cries of his newest child.  A cambion.

Tears lined the eyes of his songbird.  She was bleeding profusely as an infant was placed on her chest.  Mephistopheles watched as her skin paled and she began to slip away.

“A name?” she asked quickly.

“Raphael,” Mephistopheles responded.

Within a few moments, her song was permanently silenced.

[punderdome]

Infernal Jurisprudence: Chapter 6

Summary: Raphael crashes a Tiefling party.

[AO3]

Rating: SFW. Fortunately? Unfortunately?

Chapter 6: The Party

Raphael was fully confident that Tav and her companions would be successful in their goal of finding the druid.  After all, Tavara was going to bring him the Crown of Karsus, and he could hardly expect to see a few goblins and a Hobgoblin present any sort of challenge.

It was almost boring to see the lack of effort required for his prized adventurers to carve through the hordes of pathetic beasts and the Hobgoblin.  Although, the sight of the burning Tiefling chopping the Drow into unrecognizable pieces with an axe and befriending some spiders in a pit provided a modest amount of entertainment.  It was nothing quite as sweet as watching giant spiders desiccate hordes of debtors, but it was entertainment nonetheless.

To what should have been no one’s great surprise, the dubious, friendly brown bear turned out to be the missing druid in disguise.  Raphael’s investments returned to the grove and a joyful celebratory party was planned for the entire grove that very evening.  Raphael found the suggestion of a joyful celebration tedious, but he was glad the adventurers would finally stop procrastinating on finding the Absolute and retrieving his Crown.  He was finding it frustrating to watch them haggle with Zhent, meddle with Hags, and waste their time rescuing wayward counselors from burning buildings.  Finally, they would stop wasting so much time and make haste to the Shadow Cursed lands.

Raphael had grown weary of watching his adventurers via his scrying mirror.  If Tavara was going to successfully retrieve the Crown of Karsus for him, he needed to get closer to her.  Korrilla would provide additional surveillance, of course, to ensure she wasn’t in true danger, but Raphael needed to become much more active in her travels.  He, the great Raphael, needed to guide the Little Mouse, so she would retrieve his Crown and gift him the Hells.

Raphael snapped and appeared in the thinning trees by the waters of the Chionthar, the ruckus of a party apparent from the clearing where the adventurers usually set up their tents.  He could smell woodsmoke and various peasant foods cooked over a campfire.  He followed the music of multiple lutes, a flute, and a lyre that couldn’t seem to stay on key.  He emerged from the woods at Tavara’s camp, which was crowded with Tieflings imbibing in drink and feasting on campfire roasts and stuffed flatbreads.

The Tieflings didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, and Raphael wandered easily through the party, observing the festivities.  He snapped and a goblet of wine appeared in his hands.  He sipped slowly, observing the cusp of debauchery.  Several pairs of Tieflings were clearly planning imminent carnal pleasures.  One of the warriors was tracing her forked tongue over the earlobe of another Tiefling as the two of them moaned softly and the tips of her fingers were slowly slipping into the waistband of his pants.

A female Asmodeus Tiefling was alternating between her assertions that she hadn’t yet consumed enough wine, that she needed to lay down, and that she needed her tongue shoved down her paramour’s throat.  Their seductions were blunt but effective, the mortals pairing off quickly and retreating to the woods to act on their lusts.

Raphael spotted Tavara deep in discussion with the vampire spawn.  He watched the pair closely, wondering what type of discussion the two were having.  Raphael recognized immediately the way the spawn was slinking up to her and seductively running his hands over her cheeks.  Raphael squeezed the goblet of wine he was holding tightly and the glass stem snapped and fell into the dirt below, the red wine dripping over his fingers and wetting the dry earth.

His Little Mouse gently withdrew from the spawn’s embrace, she gently placed her hands on his upper arms.  Raphael watched carefully.  The spawn’s face fell, and Raphael let go of a breath he had been holding.  It would have been unfortunate if he needed to drive a stake into the vampling’s chest.

The Little Mouse moved easily through the camp to the ursine druid.  Raphael fumed as he watched his Mouse brush the hair from the druid’s face.  She offered him a goblet and held a bottle out to him, but the druid wisely declined the offer.  Raphael was imagining what the bear would look like skinned and the pelt laying on the floor of his study.

Raphael’s jaw clenched as he watched his Little Mouse approach the donkey that pretended to be a wizard.  They were entrenched in conversation as Raphael hovered, watching his Mouse and the wizard chat from afar.  The wizard motioned to touch his Little Mouse several times but his hand always recoiled and retreated back to his lap.  Tavara turned away from the donkey with a blush, her form doubled over bashfully.  His Little Mouse rose from her seat near the wizard’s tent and quickly moved through the celebration at the camp.

Raphael was pleased that any attempts by his Little Mouse to seek carnal pleasures with her companions that evening had failed.  Should his Mouse desire a romantic companion, Raphael would be happy to indulge her in the House of Hope on his silk sheets.  Tavara was far too lovely for a quick rut on the forest floor.

Tavara sat down by herself on a log by the bank of the Chionthar.  She sat under the moonlight, slowly nursing a goblet of some alchemical concoction.  Raphael approached her quietly but didn’t sit down.  The Mouse turned around to see him standing in the sand of the riverbank.

“A Little Mouse saves a grove by retrieving a bear,” Raphael mused softly.  “The rescuer of the refugees saves a bear before celebrating the evening with a bat, a donkey, and a cat.”

Tavara swallowed a slight laugh.  “Cormyrian poems again?” she challenged him gently.

“I am familiar with many styles of verse, but that style seems to be more appropriate at present.  If I recall, you preferred a verse from the Dalelands?” Raphael teased.

“I imagined if I told you I preferred Ver’yll Wenkiir’s style, his verse would start to bloom from your mouth.” The sorceress gave a quick chuckle and a half smile.

“Should you prefer Abyssal poetry, I would learn to hiss with the proper emotion,” he cooed back to her.  Raphael took a seat on the log next to the Little Mouse.

“What are you doing here?” Tavara asked.  She raised her goblet to drink, but Raphael quickly snatched the goblet from her hands and poured its contents onto the sand bank in a viscous violet pool.  The Mouse gave him an immediate indignant look.

“That was my wine!” the Little Mouse objected angrily.  “I had to pay Mol exorbitant prices for that bottle!”

“It was tainted with a hag’s rot.  I assume you have no desire to experience personally what a hag curse feels like,” Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“No, I-” Tav started.  While the Hells were prone to bouts of excess, Raphael didn’t think overconsumption of hag poisons was fitting for and of his prized investments.  The Tieflings could consume whatever they wished.

Raphael moved his hands over Tavara’s forehead to purge her from the Hag’s poison she had already consumed. 

“I may recommend against consuming unknown hag potions in the future, or paying for them for that matter,” Raphael chuckled as Tavara blushed.  He snapped and a goblet of actual red wine appeared in his hands.  He handed it to the Little Mouse, who stared down at the token of his hospitality.  “The potion you were consuming was intended to cause internal bleeding.  I imagine you prefer for your blood to reside in your veins.”

“Thank you, Raphael,” Tavara said quietly, eyeing him warily.

Raphael snapped to refill his own wine goblet.  “What new adventures are in store for my most favored clients?” he inquired.  He already knew that the Underdark would provide a safer path, though he needed Tavara’s Gith companion to turn away from the Lich Queen.  He would need to subtly pressure her to gather her strength in the Underdark before facing the wrath of the Githyanki.

“You know as well as I do that there is still an additional tenant in my head,” Tavara laughed.  She took a tentative sip of the wine in her goblet.  She took a long, pensive look at the river waters in silence.

“Why did you send Korrilla to save me from Priestess Gut?” the sorceress asked as she stared out over the flowing Chionthar.

“I know what real power looks like, and it would have been quite a shame to have that power extinguished by a disgusting goblin in a prison cell.”  Raphael laughed and took another sip of wine.

“I imagine your associate told you what kind of trouble I had gotten into.”  She cocked her eyebrow before looking at him, trying to ascertain whether he had the full story of the situation: nudity, chains, and all.

“I recommend a counterspell next time someone tries to use Sleep on you, Little Mouse,” Raphael suggested sarcastically.  Tavara rolled her eyes at him.

“I only wish my magic wasn’t weakened by the tenant in my head.”  The Little Mouse turned away from Raphael slightly.  “I feel like I’m a child drowning in my magic again.”

“Then, I recommend that you learn to swim, Little Mouse.”  The sorceress turned to him but said nothing.

Raphael stood up from the log and turned to his Little Mouse.  “I imagine you require some rest before venturing into the dark.”  He needed her to visit the Underdark before the Creche, and perhaps she would take his suggestion to heart.  Raphael snapped and the rest of the wine bottle appeared in his hand.  He gave it to his sorceress.

“Pleasant dreams, Little Mouse,” Raphael said with a grin before returning to the House of Hope in a flurry of embers.

[punderdome]

I can appreciate characters other than Raphael sometimes too

I need oh so desperately to cockwarm halsin. literal hours of him using me as a blanket, his MASSIVE dick twitching inside of me, him sucking on my boobs as he whispers into my ears silly puns and promises to pound me and fill me with cum. he can get off on just the feeling of me around him. he cums in me sooo many times, just filling me with him creamy thick cum. I fall asleep on his dick and wake up to more loads filled inside of me and pooling around his dick. when I finally get off his dick, cum just flows out of me, a never ending river that he finger fucks back into me.

[punderdome]

Not an ask per say, but a message to say you unleashed a dormant thirst in me with "the fine print" and for that I thank you . Utterly obsessed with your writing of Raphael, and the level of craftsmanship you clearly put in your work. Much love and blessing upon your bloodline (pets included) for sharing your fic ♥️

Thank you! I'm incredibly flattered. I honestly really appreciate the fic support, and I know other authors do as well. It's a little nerve wracking to put creative works out on the internet, but I'm amazed at how wholesome and supportive the Raphael fandom is. We're all pretty much "Yes, bestie, let's all go fuck the devil man!" Out of context, it's pretty hilarious. In context, we have so much support for every flavor of Raphael: dark, brooding, romantic, dramatic, corny, loving, entitled, selfish, and completely unhinged.

It's a little weird that the Fine Print story is coming to a close, but I hope you enjoy so many things coming full circle. I appreciate the support so very much, and I hope you get to enjoy the ride of so many amazing Raphael fics.