#// we survived but damn does she hate clerics

[ingloriousmisfits]

ooc ;;

Elizabet, charging into battle with her magic sword: no fear

Elizabet, after getting whacked by a cleric for half her health: one fear

[lairofsentinel]

During the game promotions I guessed what companions were going to be my faves in bg3 just by knowing how Larian works. It was enough by seeing their design and their “brief backstories”. So far, I only failed with Wyll. So, I want to keep these thoughts here, expecting tumblr not to delete them out of the blue as it usually does with my posts, and to reread them once the game is complete to see how their developments went.

[Baldur’s Gate 3 Early Access Spoilers] [basically talking about companions and what we saw so far in Early Access]

I was not expecting companions to be so antagonised one another. How can you manage to have a cohesive group when 4 out of 5 companions are constantly disapproving you, when your actions are more than reasonable! xD I always hate when companions disapprove you when you accept a quest. Sure, not to accept a reward from a NPC after a job done? Sure, it makes sense. A greedy companion would disapprove such action, it's ok.. but just accepting a random quest of a NPC needing help? Like... “c’mon, it’s a RPG, fucking Astarion, it's not Cazador I'm talking to. Why do you disapprove my need for xp and items? Or what, are you going to give me the XP I need?” xD Damn.

Also... I guessed just by playing many Larian games that Astarion was going to be a bit annoying to me. Simply because I'm accustomed to what Larian tags as “noble”. It's most of the time annoying (not ex-noble, but noble). Astarion has a lot of Red Prince with Sebille's background. I mean, it has layers of DOS2 characters, not that they are a copy-paste of them, which would be an incredibly unfair thing to say.

He has similar characteristics to that unbearable red lizard: noble, power-hungry, thick petulant or flamboyant levels to get to know him, untrustworthy in the beginning, easy-come-easy-go fellow. He differs from Red Prince in the fact that he truly is against any kind of slavery, and his slave past makes him twisted and wicked. Which is something I was also expecting since we know how Larian works with slave background in chars such as Sebille. 

Slavery makes the slave acquire twisted tastes, not because they were meant to be twisted chars by nature, but because they had to learn to enjoy that twisted-ness in order to survive. It's a nice place to explore evilness and neutrality. And I believe they will do a better job with Astarion, so far I see. He doesn’t want to be a “true vampire” to have a coven of slaves by his own... which is a soft relief to me. But he indulges into some other vices that Cazador applied to him in extreme levels. Or he has strange desires if we think that he dreamt with Cazador. We know that the creature we dream of is “what you are attracted for” or as Gale said: “it's a symbol of power and desire”. So, that image being Cazador... is more than disturbing. Preeeetty complex mindset we have with Astarion, I believe. Not my cup of tea, but I would lie if I say he is not an interesting character to see.

In fact, I believe that this time, all 5 companions are extremely interesting, not like in DOS2, where characters like Beast [or in my personal opinion Red Prince] turned out to have a poorer development in comparison with Lohse, Ifan, Fane or Sebille, and they tried to fix it in the Definitive Edition.

But, returning to BG3: Lae’zel is... basically Sebille +2, powered. Straightforward woman, pretty intense, aggressive, dominant, confident. She can kill you if she only wishes to. She differs from Sebille in the fact that she is a soldier, and lacks of  Sebille's slave background. Instead, Lae'zel inherited Red Prince's past (warrior of the prestigious House of War from the Lizard Empire) with most of Sebille's personality. However, she is too aggressive to me, all the time. I don't know.  Not even Fenris with a mage Hawke was this rough xD. Let's see how she evolves during the rest of the story. I'm not too eager to see her if there is not a promise of depth in her.

Shadowheart is hard to read. Oh, god, they made her pretty hardcore follower of Shar indeed. She is a walking mystery. That weird power in her hands that frightened her, the gith'yanki artefact. So many mysteries, and she is all the time pushing you away. It would be a sin to link her to any char from DOS2, since Early Access doesn't give us much of her past beyond the things we can assume by reading her tags: Urchin, Evil Cleric, Half-elf. With the little bits we got from her, we can assume she became a cleric of Shar because she was a street girl, and a cult of Shar raised her or something along those lines. But she has the hell of a potential. I love her a lot.

Wyll is also mysterious. I thought he was going to be evil. I was wrong. If I force myself to relate him with previous chars in DOS2, maybe it could be Beast. Wyll is an ex-noble, he seems to be trapped in a big mistake done in his past (Mizora), and he is desperate to fix it somehow. Beast had an infamous legend on his shoulders, and Wyll wants to be a hero and a legend in this world (which aligns a lot with Beast's goal: to give to the people a good peaceful world where to live). We don't know much to say more. Or at least, he didn't talk to me enough in my two super bugged playthroughs,

Now, this brings us to the last companion: Gale. In my opinion, Gale is Ifan +2. Wizard Ifan, without Ifan's contempt for books and scholarly stuff. Gale has an easy-going personality, even kind when you tell him rude things (at some degree, of course) and with a big mistake in his past that has the potential to kill an entire city with a bomb (pretty close to Ifan, his bomb, and his relationship with “god” Lucian which ended up in a massacre of elves... Gale is a step behind that situation, basically.) So, Ifan and Gale share many things: their problems with genocide bombs, the extreme admiration/love towards God-like entities, the guilt and maturity that comes when mistakes are acknowledged, and their determination to fix their own mistakes. I need to write a post aside for him, because... reasons.[[here]]

[hesesols]

Into the WILD

Day 16 of Ichiruki month 2020

Trapped inside fantasy MMORPG. Send help please?

Rating: T

FF/ao3

.

The first thing that strikes him as odd is that the ground underneath him is dewy soft. Not that the carpet in his tiny student accommodation isn't soft. It just isn't as soft by comparison and doesn't smell so strongly of grass and urgh- he hates pollen with a vengeance.

It makes his nose itch like mad and –

Wait!

Last time he checked summer was already over and the northern hemisphere was entering early autumn.

.

Brown eyes open in alarm.

The sun is in his eyes as he sits up and he's lying in a sea of golden tulips and ruby red camellias, blades of grass and crushed flowers under his fingertips.

He isn't alone.

There are others next to him. Each one garbed in unusual medieval clothing- intimidating-looking armours with spikes and brightly-coloured capes, fur-trimmings and equally garish-looking armbands; brandishing weapons that range from claymores to wooden staffs. Everyone seems to be in more or less the same state of disbelief and wide-eyed amazement at their new surroundings.

Where are they?

And holy shit! Is that a real-life armoured bear?

.

"You look like you could use a hand there, Kurosaki."

"Ishida?"

Ishida or at least who he assumes to be Ishida- his annoying cousin of sorts and fellow guild member- stands in front of him, offering an outstretched hand. Ichigo recognizes the voice but those pointy ears, the gleaming ivory bow that stands at a grown man's height and strange cleric-like clothing- those are definitely new. He grabs hold of it and pulls himself up, wiping at the grass stains with a fierce scowl before turning to the strange elf-like creature.

"What are you wearing?

Uryuu snorts, "I could ask you the very same question, Kurosaki."

Ichigo glances at the midnight black armour he has on- light weight, extra resistance to magic and +25% endurance to all physical attacks- wait, where did that come from?- the reassuring weight of Zangetsu in his hands-

He blinks.

.

Name: Zangetsu. Also known as: Sword of the Moon, Cursed Fang. Status: Legendary. Raid item from the Sacking of the Gollum King's Palace at Hueco Mundo. The mythical black blade forged by the Grandmaster Yhwach over the Fires of Sokyouku for a full year and a half in preparation for the Conquest of the Soul King's Throne (see also Conquest of the Soul King's Throne). Grants the wielder—

.

Reeling from the surprise, he falls flat on the grass.

How the hell did that just happen? How did all those words and background information just pop into his head unprompted? Almost like they're in a fantasy RPG gam—

"What's going on?"

Uryuu's smile is grim and sardonic, sliding the half-moon glasses up the bridge of his nose before he tells him, "Don't freak out but I think we're inside the game."

.

.

.

"Anything?"

Uryuu shakes his head.

Ichigo sighs. The lines of communication are down and no one has been able to log back out into the real world since they first entered.

"This doesn't make any sense at all!"

10,000 WILD players across the world and different servers who were online and active at precisely 12 midnight that day somehow found themselves transported into the game world and trapped there as their game character persona.

They're calling it the Lockdown.

No one has a clue as to why they were the only people affected, nor do they know how they came to. One minute they were logged in, playing the game as usual; the next thing they know they're lying flat on their asses in this strange new world strongly reminiscent of the game world of WILD, as their respective game characters.

He's one of the lucky ones he thinks. As a human Swords Master, there isn't much alteration to him besides the clothes and the muscle bulk added to his physique, unlike Chad who woke up as a bear armed to the teeth with a war axe and metal gauntlets. It wouldn't have been a pleasant wake up call for anyone, much less someone who wakes up trapped inside a fantasy MMORPG.

"What about Keigo then? Have you managed to locate him yet?"

Uryuu's eyebrow twitches. The pale blue glow from his hand falters for a fraction of a second when his attention shifts to shoot his guild leader a nasty glare.

Ichigo growls before mumbling out an apology to the raven-haired Cleric. He knows of course that Uryuu is trying his best and really in a strange new world that seems equal parts deadly and fascinating, the best is all they can do.

He's just … frustrated over the lack of answers and to make matters worse, one of their own still remains unaccounted for. Out of all the guild members who decided to switch servers during the Lockdown, it just had to be Keigo- scatterbrain extraordinaire. He wouldn't trust Keigo not to get sold on some crazy-ass get-rich-quick scheme in the real world, let alone in this virtual reality full of bloodthirsty monsters just waiting to make a nice dinner out of unsuspecting players.

The double doors to his studies are suddenly pushed apart, jolting him out of his thoughts. Orihime stumbles in barefooted and narrowly avoids tripping over the trail of her druidic dress robes in her excitement. Her cheeks are flushed and the pretty flowers in her flower crown bloom and blossom in magnificent shades of pinks and violets as she makes her announcement.

"Kurosaki-kun! I have his location!"

Ichigo jumps to his feet.

.

Finally!

.

It's the first piece of good news he's had since he found himself stranded here with the rest of his guild members.

"So where is the idiot then?"

Behind her, trails Tatsuki- their resident cynic and Shield Maiden who purses her lips and informs both him and Uryuu rather miserably, "You're not going to like this. He's in the Forest."

Ichigo resists the urge to face-palm as he sees Uryuu rubbing at his temple.

"Keigo must have been on his way back to HQ and decided to take the shorter route," Uryuu rationalizes things- as the team tactician he excels at it, "he couldn't possibly have known."

That's right. Keigo couldn't possibly have known that he would get sucked into the game and be left standing in place of his game character.

Tatsuki gives a derisive snort, "Doesn't make a difference. A level 25 Bard like him can't possibly survive the Forest of Hueco Mundo alone. He's going to get himself killed. The Forest is no man's land- level 70+ Hollows and player killers aren't warded out."

All eyes turn to their orange-haired team leader.

"What do you want us to do?"

Call it instincts but Ichigo has a nasty suspicion that player death in their new world would also mean certain death in the real world. The thought makes him nauseous and for obvious reasons, he isn't too keen on testing out the theory himself.

Keigo may be a pain-in-the-neck and downright insufferable at times but damn it! He's one of them. He's their pain-in-the-neck and they can't just leave him there.

In the real world, Ichigo Kurosaki may be just an ordinary university student bogged down by studies but here in WILD, he's a guild leader, it's his job to look after his guild members and he pledges to make sure that every single one of them makes it back home to the real world in one piece.

Ichigo heaves a loud weary sigh, grabbing the sleek black katana by his side.

"Let's go get our idiot back!"

.

.

.

"I told you we should have gone left instead of right!"

Tatsuki can feel her skull throbbing. She should have just stayed behind with Chad and Orihime.

"Stop yelling at me! It's not my bloody fault that you're so fucking incompetent that you couldn't get a better map!"

"Oh so I'm the incompetent one?! Never mind I was the one who organized the rations! We would have starved to death days ago if I hadn't triple checked our provisions!"

Tatsuki grimaces as the feel of exhaustion creeps in as does the unbearable chaffing on her thighs. It wasn't just the lines of communications that were shut off with the Lockdown. It turns out the Portals- their main means of transport have also been disrupted and that means that the full distance between Karakura and the Forest had to be covered by good old-fashioned horse-riding.

They've been riding nonstop since they left Karakura, trading horses with NPCs in the farmlands nearby to push ahead at a gruelling pace and rescue Keigo as soon as possible. It is a noble cause but the trade-off for the weeks' long worth of hard-riding leaves the three riders surly and sullen. This virtual reality that they're trapped in certainly feels real enough, right down to hunger pangs and sore muscles.

Chaffed thighs, bland food, little sleep and the heat (the sheer humidity was making her hair frizz) made for horrible traveling condition and it seems that both Ichigo and Uryuu are about to hit their respective boiling points.

She rolls her eyes, tugging at her horse's rein to halt.

"Both of you need to shut up before –"

A sudden rustling in the bushes nearby draws their collective attention and sure enough from the depth of the overgrown bushes, a Hollow emerges. This one seems more reptilian in features, flickering pink tongue and all. Something jumps at the back of her mind but Tatsuki ignores it.

The Guide is nothing more than a useless collection of WILD lore and trivia.

She doesn't need a lecture on Hollow classes and their special attacks to know that the only good Hollow is a dead one.

With a loud battle war cry, she unsheathes her blade and leads the charge, throwing herself against the beast.

.

.

Ichigo leaps through the dense foliage with Zangetsu drawn and bloodied in his hand. Despite Tatsuki's misgivings about his foolhardy plans and recklessness, the woman is just as bad with her own brand of battle lust, leading the charge like a crazy berserker.

All hell literally broke loose the second they stormed through the clearing. The sheer number of the Hollow horde overwhelmed them and forced them to break formation and the three of them took off in different directions in a bid to divide the remaining Hollows' attention.

He ducks behind a tree to catch his breath. Having lost sight of both Uryuu and Tatsuki during their retreat, he is in a sour mood and more than a little embarrassed that a level 98 Swordsmaster like him is being forced back by a horde of weakling Hollows in level 50s.

"Psst. Ichigo."

Ichigo grips Zangetsu tightly, eyes nervously darting at his surroundings. He could have sworn that he heard Keigo's voice. Well it's either that or he's officially losing his mind.

"Over here."

A head pops out from the bushes next to him and Ichigo reacts accordingly- nearly slicing the newcomer's head clean off his shoulder and Keigo almost becomes a casualty of friendly fire before Ichigo sees through the heavy layer of disguise and stops the blade mid-swing.

"Keigo?"

The bard is barely recognizable with his slashed and dirtied tunic, patches of dirt and dried leaves covering his face.

"The fuck you doing- sneaking up on me like that! I could have killed you!"

Keigo couldn't have cared less. With a loud wail and snot running down his face, he throws himself at his saviour and professes his undying gratitude in between hiccups and tears.

"ICHIGO! I knew you would come for me! I never doubted for a second!"

"Get off me! You stink!"

The happy reunion doesn't last as the roar of a Hollow and heavy footsteps of a lumbering giant still their movements. Ichigo pushes Keigo away from him and readies his blade, but even his quick reflexes are no match for the suddenness of the attack.

"ICHIGO!"

The Hollow's swipe knocks the air right out of him and sends him flying. The tree trunk of a young sapling snaps in half as his back connects painfully with it. The pain disorients him and he is enough of a doctor's son to recognize the signs of concussion. Also, he thinks he might have cracked a rib (or two) as fresh blood- metallic in taste gurgles past his throat.

His vision clears in time for him to see the Hollow- a Dragon class one with beady yellow, thick, iridescent scales covering its front and gigantic wings sprouted at his back, rearing up for another charge.

This time at Keigo, who is down on his knees- eyes wide with fear as he scrambles to get away from the advancing Hollow.

There's no time to think. Ichigo pushes everything he has- the very last spurt of HP and MP within him towards Keigo, taking his place before the monster with gapping mouth, awaiting certain death to come.

.

.

"Out of the way!"

His eyes snap open just in time to see a small lithe figure, sunlight reflecting off the bone white armour- so bright that he squints, leaping through air and landing gracefully on the Hollow's back. A glint of light flashes yet again and before his very eyes, one of the Hollow's tattered wings is cut off, an arc of blood spurts high into the air and the Hollow's roar of anguish follows.

"Are you deaf or stupid? Get out of the way!"

Ichigo doesn't hesitate. With Keigo tucked under his arm, he pushes past the pain and sprints for the clearing.

With them gone, the mysterious stranger makes quick work of the beast, easily dismantling its other wing before diving for the kill; sinking the white blade somewhere between the soft scruff, flabs of excess skin free from the scaly armour.

Ichigo watches in silence as the dying monster screeches in pain, a swan's song in roars of fury before it topples over with dead eyes, a fine cloud of dust from where its body fell.

With the urgency of the situation gone, he focuses on the newcomer. Sheathing Zangetsu as it becomes apparent from the markings and sigil on the stranger's shield and helmet that he is a Paladin, one dedicated to the path of the light. They're in safe hands- for now at least.

"Where did you come from?"

The Paladin regards him oddly.

"What do you mean?"

.

"Princess!"

Half a dozen of swords are suddenly drawn and held under their throats by what seems to be a band of armed knights. Their armours gleam with the same bone-white shine and the leader of the men- a tall redhead with inked markings across his forehead approaches them with a fierce scowl and the intent to kill.

Next to him, Keigo yelps.

"The fuck!" Ichigo curses. His chest hurts, he's barely standing on his feet and now this?

Can this day get any worse?

.

"Watch your mouth, you punk!" The redhead growls threateningly, "You're in the presence of the Princess."

Amber eyes narrow. Did they think he's stupid? There's no one vaguely even female in their company unless—

The Paladin removes his helmet and a cascade of black hair- dark as the night pours forth. Apple cheeks, soft petal lips and elfin features curtailed somewhat by the iciness of her stare and her unsmiling face.

Their eyes meet.

.

Oh!

.

The short stature suddenly makes so much sense. Ichigo gulps.

"They're Heroes, Renji."

Renji scowls and gives them a dirty look.

Ichigo's eyebrows knot in confusion. "Hang on- what do you mean by Heroes and how are you a princess? Royalty isn't a job class and Paladins don't call themselves Princesses. I don't care what level you are, that's not allowed by the game admins."

The smile on the woman's face- Ichigo doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he's about to be made into a fool of epic proportions, especially when she pushes past her armed guards and tilts his face up by the chin with the tip of her white blade.

Smirking with dark violet eyes gleaming, she tells him, "That's because I'm not a Hero. Look closer."

Sure enough- when Ichigo focuses his gaze at her, her presence is shrouded in golden aura. The Guide pings- very belatedly and most unhelpfully, he might add.

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Name: HRH Princess Rukia of the noble house of the Kuchiki, heir apparent to the throne of Seireitei. Status: NPC

.

He bites his tongue.

"B-But- but NPCs aren't sentient," Keigo blurts out.

Ichigo turns just in time to see him give out a pained yelp, being pummelled by the angry redhead, "Oh I'll show you how non-sentient my fists are!"

He winces. That looks like it would hurt… a lot. But Keigo's an idiot with thick skin, he'll live.

Rukia- her name rolls off his tongue easily. He refuses to even entertain the idea of addressing her by her royal title. For starters, a princess isn't supposed to be a Paladin, or know how to fight or use a sword, or look this good while having him at her mercy.

He gulps when violet eyes narrow at him.

"And you? Do you think that NPCs are non-sentient beings too?"

Ichigo is a fast learner and gives a quick shake of his head.

"Good-" her lips curve into a smile, hair dipping low to tease at the contours of his face as she whispers into his ear- "Because this NPC just saved your life. I'll show you just how deadly I am with my sword before you dismiss me as just another background token NPC."

The sword tip leaves his neck.

"Now, hold still."

That's all the warning he gets before a green glow is emitted from her hands- smelling faintly of mint and something fresh he can't quite name. He shuts his eyes, letting the healing magic wash over him, knitting most of his superficial cuts and wounds back into place.

When the light fades, his chest still hurts but at the very least he feels a little less light-headed and breathes a little easier despite the pain.

He wants to thank her- both for her healing and her timely rescue from the Hollow but she refuses to meet his eyes.

"Renji," she barks at her captain of guards who immediately stands to attention.

"Take them with us. He needs a proper healer. I can't set his broken ribs."

"It's Ichigo!" he calls out, interrupting their conversation and earning himself a hard glare from Renji but Rukia's gaze is almost thoughtful.

"Can you still ride, Ichigo?"

He nods.

A horse is brought to him under Rukia's instructions and as soon as he is properly mounted with Keigo seated behind him, the woman sounds the horn, black hair unbound and flailing in the wind as she leads the company into a gallop.

"To Seireitei!"

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FF/ao3

Review, like, comment or reblog to send some love my way pretties~~~

I have a thing for fantasy AUs. Can’t you tell? Click on link for rec list of some off-main Isekai/Game animes. I have a special place in my heart for them.

[mllemaenad]

(Chantry Asker) I don't defend the Chantry because I think is "has to be good", but part of what Dragon Age encourages us to do is consider the difficulty faced by well-intentioned factions. The Inquisition, for example, has problems, becoming vulnerable to infiltration, and depending on how you played the game, may have done worse. It's not easy to help people, but the Chantry TRIES. Many Thedosian groups don't even do that. If not the Chantry, then to whom do the downtrodden and hopeless turn?

But Anonymous person: this is exactly what I mean. Whence comes this desire to treat the Chantry like some kind of beleaguered, underfunded kindergarten teacher?

“She’s trying, okay? She’s trying.”

Do you feel the need to defend Mass Effect’s Cerberus, too? Sometimes an evil organisation is just an evil organisation.

Why on earth do you think the Chantry is ‘trying’? Again: absolutely no one is saying that a particular revered mother (or Chantry brother or sister) may not be a good person who attempts to help people. That’s not in question. But ‘the Chantry’ is a continent-wide political organisation with massive resources and influence. It is led by a divine and by grand clerics, and on the other side by lord and lady Seekers and by knight-commanders of the templars. It has shaped the world. That’s the scale we are working on here.

No one group in history has impacted life in Thedas more than the Chantry. The influence of this church of the Maker prevails across most of the continent’s kingdoms, and the bulk of humanity pays at least lip service to its tenets. Belief in the Maker has started wars and forced those outside the Chantry to the fringes of society.

– The World of Thedas Volume I

So that’s a good start.

"The Keepers, Shaperate, Qun, Augers, Seers, and Shamen don't help. Only the Chantry.”

That’s one of the first things you said to me. And it’s so confusing because ... it reads like you really don’t grasp that these people are not in Lothering because, largely, they have been driven to the margins by Orlais and its Chantry. They can’t be there. They would die. 

Just as an example – can you imagine what would happen to an augur who set up in some Chantry-dominated village? Started summoning his gods, offering guidance and assistance, suggesting spirit possession to help training young mages? The poor bastard wouldn’t live out the day. But that wouldn’t be his fault. His people aren’t the ones practising religious persecution.

How – how – does that demonstrate the virtue of the Chantry? You can’t give someone points for being the only game in town when they’ve killed all the other players.

The Chantry began and has continued to be a predominantly human organisation. Other races are seen to be further from the Maker. The elves have their false pantheon of idols. The dwarves worship themselves. The Qunari are the worst of all, actively crushing worship of the Maker and desecrating Chantry values in the name of the Qun.

–  The World of Thedas Volume I

They have built the racism right into their doctrine, so that’s nice. And the religious persecution. And just ... zero self-awareness in that they hate the Qunari for converting by force when they do the same thing.

But let’s think about your "downtrodden and hopeless”, shall we?

Why is it that most of the elves in Thedas live in abject poverty, and regardless of their skills are effectively barred from bettering their lot? Oh, that’s right. Because the Chantry invaded their homeland, stole it from them, and forced them to live in slums and convert to the Chantry faith.

But you already know that something went wrong. A small elven raiding party attacked the nearby human village of Red Crossing, an act of anger that prompted the Chantry to retaliate and, with their superior numbers, conquer the Dales.

We were not enslaved as we had been before, but our worship of the ancient gods was now forbidden. We were allowed to live among the humans only as second-class citizens who worshipped their Maker, forgetting once more the scraps of lore we had maintained through the centuries.

– The City Elves

Why is it that most mages are dependant on Chantry run Circles to house, feed and clothe them? Oh, that’s right. Because the Chantry kidnaps them as children, prevents them from inheriting their family titles and property, and steals their children in turn should they have any.

Chantry law requires those with significant magical ability to join the nearest Circle and live under its supervision. While Thedosians with extremely low levels of magical talent are generally permitted to go about their lives, they are still closely watched. In most nations, practising magic and not joining a Circle is to be branded an apostate and, thus, a danger to society. Those who survive capture are turned over to the Circle to become students or prisoners, depending on the circumstances.

– The World of Thedas Volume I

So that’s ... pretty great. It sounds as though you’re suggesting – best case scenario – that the Chantry should get points for setting up a soup kitchen for the homeless, when they were the ones who burned down those people’s houses. And built an ugly mansion on the land.

But that really is a ... best case scenario. It doesn’t really fit with the reality of how the Chantry operates. I mean: the Chantry takeover in Kirkwall was a fucking disaster. Meredith had death squads. I mean – death squads. That whole situation was a dystopian nightmare.

And then there’s whatever the fuck is going on in Tantervale:

Chantry law is all but absolute in Tantervale, earning the city its dour reputation. The city guard is obsessed with enforcement. A street urchin would get a year in the dungeon for something that would get him a pat on the back in Orlais.

– World of Thedas Volume I

So ... yay for theocracy? And then there’s the clusterfuck in Jader:

The overpopulation and poor living conditions led to an outbreak of disease that nearly crippled the city, followed by famine in the poorer sections when it was quarantined.

Mother Giselle, whose prosperous chantry was in a wealthier quarter, wrote to Val Royeaux asking for assistance from the Chantry. When help was not immediately forthcoming, it is said that she addressed the clerics of her chantry. “As Andraste herself said, ‘My faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion,’ then so shall faith sustain the hungry in this time of need,” Giselle told them. “As we have devoted our lives to divine contemplation, such a diet should come to us quite easily.” With that she took the unprecedented step of taking all of her chantry’s food into the poor quarters of Jader, distributing it to peasants who would otherwise have starved to death.

Shocked and shamed by what some in Val Royeaux privately referred to as an ostentatious bullying tactic, Chantry officials coordinated relief efforts. Food arrived quickly, along with instructions on how it was to be distributed: first to the Jader chantry to end the hunger strike, then to the Orlesian peasants, then to the Fereldan refugees, and finally to the elves of the alienages. Mother Giselle famously replied to the orders by saying, “If we believe that some have fallen further from the Maker’s grace than others, then those who have fallen further are in greatest need of our care. We cannot fill their souls until we have filled their bellies.” With the support of Lady Seryl of Jader, who was directing relief efforts of her own, Giselle ignored the directives and fed the poor of the city without regard for race or nationality.

Her actions saved thousands of lives in Jader and made her a beloved figure among the poor in Orlais and Ferelden alike. Those actions also destroyed her chances of any official political advancement in the Chantry, as the grand clerics did not look kindly on being shown up in such a manner.

– World of Thedas Volume II

So, five important points here:

1) Mother Giselle’s actions are ‘unprecedented’. So stepping up like that and forcing the Chantry to give aid in a time of crisis is not actually standard practice.

2) This is a clear example of a person attempting to do good and being stymied by the Chantry hierarchy.

3) The Chantry is, in case anyone forgot, really fucking racist.

4) Ending a famine also ended this woman’s political career, because the Chantry just cannot stop being The Worst.

5) While Giselle is undeniably doing some really awesome stuff here, that bit about not being able to fill people’s souls before filling their bellies indicates that even good people tend to do harm when following Chantry doctrine, because they can’t just ‘do good’. They’re also pushing conversion.

Whenever and wherever the Chantry has real power, they tend to do terrible harm. They do it on such a scale, on such a level of ‘these bloody hands may never be clean again’ awful that ... a few acts of kindness can’t easily redeem them.

To be critical of the Chantry, I don’t need to have another option. I can critique a thing without going further – especially since ‘The Chantry killed everyone else’ is ... pretty much why other people aren’t around to help. But ... it really isn’t as if no one else knows how to do good? 

I mean – look at Alistair. Assuming you made him king, he shows up with ships to bring the Fereldan refugees home, and offers aid to rebel mages. He fights with Meredith about it. That aid continues into Inquisition. While the Chantry is busy tearing Kirkwall apart, Alistair is helping. Anders runs a clinic for the poor and dispossessed in the Kirkwall sewers. He’s so damn popular that a mob turns up to defend him. That’s just one man. Most people like him are locked up, so they can’t help. Imagine a thousand clinics run by spirit healers.

Or ... did ... no one listen to Merrill?

Merrill: What does your Chantry do? I mean, you keep saying how great it is. Anders and Isabela tell me to stay away from it. But what does it do? Among the Dalish, the Keepers teach the children, preserve our history, perform magic. The priestesses here just... sing.

Sebastian: The Chantry does many charitable works. It cares for widows and orphans –

Merrill: Who in the Dalish would just be part of the clan, like everyone else. I just don't get it.

...

Bethany: So, there's no Circle among the Dalish?

Merrill: Any child with the gift of magic is apprenticed to a Keeper... in another clan if there's no need in her own.

Bethany: That sounds nice.

Merrill: Magic is a gift of the Creators. Why wouldn't we use it? It just seems... wasteful for humans to lock their mages away where they can't do any good.

– Merrill Dialogue

The Dalish would regard ‘charity’ as a communal duty, and magic as a tool to help people. She’s not wildly impressed by the Chantry, which is not doing enough good of any kind for her to notice. Merrill lives in one of the poorest parts of the city. So. Maybe her way might be worth a try?

Individuals can do good. Organisations can do good. These things are not in question. But the Chantry is – and I say this again – an imperial religion. Its primary function is to serve the Orlesian empire, which is racist, power hungry and deeply religiously intolerant. Empires are bad news.

I’ve seen the examples you’ve given. They exist. Some of them are real instances of a Chantry official, or a small, local chantry, doing a Good Thing. But I have to ask ...

Can you really look at a set of scales that has ‘genocide’ on one side and ‘helped out a single mum that one time’ on the other and say “Sure, that balances”?

[dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition]

1, 3, and 4 for all four of them? Or just asa & ori if youd rather have a shorter post gdjdgdg

let’s do my two main kids because i will go on forever

1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?

asa: i wanted to play a grave cleric, for one. a lot of asa’s stuff comes from me trying to sort of reverse my experience of woodland child to city adult; she went from a city kid to a feral adult. there’s some wolfpupy in there, too, as a goof, and a a little bit of both cr2 clerics, for the sake of maintaining the Repressed Cleric Canon. i was listening a lot to sidney gish’s great album no dogs allowed when i made her? which, dog jokes aside, very much influenced her personality.

also, like, all the weird medical shit i was going through this summer, that i still continue to go through? and i was working at a theater that did shitty slasher screenings on the reg? of COURSE i got back into werewolf narratives!!! god!!!! they’re fuckin cool and relatable and FUN.

 high energy characters are a challenge for me because i am a terribly sleepy person. i am not bouncy. i am not crying over cute things in public. i am Sleeping. asa is... not sleepy. at all. she’s very happy-go-lucky and a little bit paranoid. which is fun!

ori: the party needed a melee fighter and i wanted something weird. she’s a huge challenge for me because low-charisma is a nightmare for me, tbh--i have a compulsive need to be liked and being generally charismatic is very much one of the few social skills i’ve managed to actually develop. i have a weakness for the bruiser-with-a-soft-center trope, also, so... i gotta play with that every opportunity i get, you know? the idea of taking down your walls and letting yourself be soft with others is a very difficult thing that i am still learning and still terrified of, so rp’ing that is very very cathartic for me, also.

i also wanted to fuck around with my love of, like. magic that flares with emotions stuff? so her design is very much based around that, as is her relationship with her blood magic and her patron--she’s forced herself to be a very closed off, fearful person, because the last moment she was genuinely, openly afraid was the night that she became... broken? a danger to society? in the eyes of everyone she ever knew.

i don’t usually like to play into, like. overt angst. because i usually find it pretty boring and Overdramatic. so her backstory is kind of a weird thing for me to work with, because it accidentally--as i got into the world’s lore, and into what i wanted this character to be like, it got sad! i’m really, weirdly, liking it?

3. Who is the closest person to them?

asa: hm. her goddess, i guess? the party is still new, and she likes them a lot but she is very nervous that they hate her, and she hasn’t been in contact (until. so goddamn recently. fuck.) with anyone she knew before all this for a few years, now. but her goddess is kind of... constant, in a way, even if she’s not physically present. i always prep augury--and i plan to prep divination and commune, too--because of this.

this is the main cr2 cleric influence that i referenced above, really--clerics are lonely!

ori: she’s only known the party’s sorcerer (who. shares a name, completely coincidentally, with asa’s mother figure) for like two weeks but if anyone even looked at him wrong she would kill everyone in this room and th

ori does not do friends and she does not WANT to do friends but wow people are being nice to her???? what the fuck???? is this what people can be like???

(when she was unconscious and near death last session somebody said “she’s the only person we can all agree that we like in this fucking group!” and i was like. damn if she heard that she would have a panic attack she would not know how to handle that.)

4. What were the conditions surrounding their formative years?

asa: being a scrappy orphan is like, a quarter of her charm. she very much saw herself as a protector of the kids she saw kind of get into her same position of, you know, having to do ye olde mafia shit in order to survive, even as a youth, so. she would get into a lot of fights, and she would get hurt, and she would sort of--let herself get into the scary shit, so that others didn’t have to. she does not trust the authority that surrounded her at all

ori: she was being shaped into something that--well. she thought she wanted. it was very much a fucked-up family situation, where she was being trained to be this perfect monstrous killer under the guise that she was Special and would be able to explore the world and study strange things which fascinated her. it was bad. she wanted to be special, though. she just kind of wished that she could... you know. maybe go pick flowers, or walk on the beach instead of, like. spending all day learning about blood rituals.

[merlinmerlot]

A word has its memories, and a memory has its words

(also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633124)

(tw: Major Character Death, fairly detailed violence)

Where Beau faces death.

Fuck.

How eloquent the word was. Fuck. It slipped between her phrases easily, a snack between meals, a purposeful four letter word with all the variety she needed.

It defied her parents, her tutors, anyone who had any sensible rich ass manners about them. It was the easiest way to split a conversation, make an enemy with an uptight asshole, and keep acting like the dick people knew her to be.

It was also a pretty tight curse too, and a verb, adverb, and however else Beau could fucking find a way to use it. She almost found pride in it. She loved how she could define her life and set her path with just one word - among others.

"Holy fuck!" Beau felt herself reeling, and then she's flying, 5, 15, 25 feet until the stone wall cracks against her spine. She let out another half shout, half curse, as the searing pain across her back exploded against the crumbling rock.

Beau was used to pain, used to the consistency of it, the 'fucks' and the wiping of blood and the broken ribs and bruised knuckles. She was used to falling down, over, and over, and she's used to always getting back up, no matter the hit.

-

"Fuck off!" Beau froze, word catching on her throat before its released, like the air was tightening around her throat. "Uh-"

"Beau-re-GARD!" Her mother loomed, and Beau could feel herself shrinking in the gaze, what courage and spunk she had left slowly fading. "I can't believe it! Where did you get that mouth?!"

Beau let out another curse as her ear was unceremoniously pulled to the side. "I'm very disappointed, Beauregard. First, you utterly disobey our orders. And now you disobey our manners? What has gotten into you, girl?" Her father's eyes were like black holes, catching onto whatever they could find and pulling it in.

"Maybe I just wanted to have a little fun," Beau muttered half heartedly, struggling to keep her footing as she was continually pulled to the left.

"Fun? Is that what you consider fun?" Her mother stepped back, letting go as she let out a frustrated noise. "That is, that is not what our family does. You should know this!"

"I understand you're going through a phase, we've all had those moments, Beauregard." Beau gritted her teeth as her father motioned, her fists tightening around dry blood. "But you need to understand that we have other priorities. You're going to have a business to run, and you have to be ready."

"But what if I don't want to run our stupid business?" Beau snapped, finally meeting her father's gaze. "Maybe I want to do something else, and not be stuck here in this... this fucking town!"

She ripped away from her mother's reaching hand. "I hate you! And I'm never going to come back!"

"Beauregard!" Her parents voices blurred as beau dashed away, scrambling for the door and into the dirt and darkness and darkness, voices echoing and mumbling and collapsing into one.

She was in darkness. Cloaking darkness, whispering and familiar. Silence.

"Beau..." Echoes, and echoes, like she was on cliffs yet mountains and valleys all at once. There was a smile, laughter in the distance. Green. A feeling on her lips. Stone skin. Was she breathing, oh god was her heart even beating?

"Beau!"

And then everything imploded into itself once more.

The battle, the fighting, there was Nott shooting crossbow bolts at a pissed off monster that scrambled around the darkening cave. Fjord ducked as a tail wrenched its way into view, flicking out a hand to send another eldritch blast in its wake. Caduceus was practically attached to the wall, stone sticking to his back as he held the barely withstanding bless upon the party, whom fought against the being that clawed and screamed.

But there was also a familiar face, one right in her vision, following Beau's expression with features she knew all too well. Purple eyes, button nose, freckles and curving horns. Emotions that flickered from concern to relief to determined optimism.

"Jes... What happe-"

"Stay right here, Beau! We gotta kill this monster, ok? Stay here and be safe!" Jester stood up, stepping forward to take a wide stance above Beau. Her hands circled a large, bright light, that streaked toward the monster with a sudden deafening pop, like sound itself couldn't keep up.

The beast's skin bubbled from the heated pressure of the light, stumbling into a roll hastily dodged by Yasha. Caleb took the moment to send another fireball in its wake, crumbling the already darkening skin into paste. A clawed, beastly paw collided into Nott, who managed to not be flung by holding onto the fur with all her might.

Beau could feel the pain still soaring through her body. But she had to get up. She had to make sure her friends would survive. She took a step. Then another. The lightning about her knuckles electrified her veins as she cracked her fists together.

But the winged death, Yasha, sliced the monster into 2. The two parts almost seemed whole, until red, raw monster meat sloshed onto the ground, head lolling against bloodied rock. It was over before Beau could even lift a finger.

Like most fights, there was a moment of lingering caution and adrenaline, as the party readied for some other monstrosity to make itself know to them. But it never came.

Beau collapsed once more against gravel wall, exhaustion kicking in, an exhaustion she didn't quite recognize.

"Fuck." How well it explained her situation, how acutely it described how she was feeling, yet it did so without all the seriousness and the emotions and the vulnerableness.

"Beau!" And the team gathered around her, and she had a feeling this wasn't like the last times she went down. No, this was different.

"Did I... Shit, did I die?" Beau winced, holding her head. "Ugh. Fucking felt awful. Definitely not what it's cracked up to me."

The party exchanged flickering glances, before Caleb grabbed a hold of Beau's arm and tried to get her up to her feet. "Eh, well, you're fine now, Beauregard. Now let's get you a place to rest."

"Yeah, we all need to sleep. And, uh, your ribs still look broken as all hell," Fjord huffed, and Cad quickly waved a hand around Beau to heal some of the worst injuries. "Damn, that fight was something else."

"We've been having many of those lately," Nott murmured.

Beau turned to look at Jes, who took a hold of her once it became known that Caleb did not have the strength for it. "Thanks, Jessie. For, uh, reviving me."

"Oh, well, you know, just cleric stuff," Jester laughed and beamed, but Beau could see the acute pain flickering across her eyes. It was a strained look Beau had become attuned to. "But your welcome, Beau! I'm always glad to save you whenever.

"Did you, like, see anything weird? Oh, maybe you saw the traveler! Did you? He would totally want to meet you."

"Well... Maybe." Beau sighed, reaching out to touch Jester's arm. "I'll explain in the morning, okay?"

"Sounds good!" Jester planted a kiss on Beau's forehead, before leading her away from the battle field. "... But promise me you won't die anytime soon, okay?"

"I'll do it for you, Jes."

It's too bad 'fuck' never drove away the mighty nein.

[readbythestarlight]

c2e47

WE’RE FINALLY BACK YAY!

Based on Twitter Liam is more excited to be back than anyone and it’s great

Ayyyyyyy Matt looking good with that facial hair

Sam as President of D&DBeyond?

I’d vote for him

Oh I’m excited about the future D&DBeyond ads now

God I missed them over the break

A nat20 in the first rolls of 2019 this is a good omen

Damn Matt still killing it with the maps

I miss Ashley again already

Sam’s flask: "I am available to host the Oscars" I’d actually watch the Oscars if he did

Nat1 for Beau so that’s a bad omen

Oh ouch a nat1 for Jester too

Oh god there’s so many giant ocean monsters

Oh damn Caleb killed one already! Good job babe!! First kill of 2019 goes to the wizard.

Still two big ones tho and boy they are ugly

Oh god ANOTHER ONE

Beau PLEASE it’s too early to be nearly giving me a heart attack

lol Marisha hit Liam and made him spill some of his tea

Nott is here to save the day! She is the true hero of the M9

"That sounds like a waste of Beau’s time" Beau you are being rIPPED IN HALF

Travis is looking stressed (probably because he knows how it’ll fuck Fjord up if somebody dies during his backstory mission)

STUNNED IT YES atta girl Beau

Yay Beau is freeeee!

Wasted enemy nat20 excellent

SHIELD OF RETRIBUTION nice!

NICE just SHOVE that big crabby guy back

YASHA WITH THE FIRSR HDYWTDT OF THE YEAR YEAHHHHH

Yessss girl! They’re both stunned

Yeahhh nat20 go Beau!!!

My girl Nott taking out the next one yesss!

Poor Matt is a bit frazzled it’s okay Matt you’re still the best DM

Somebody get to Caleb quick now or he WILL go down

Beau and Fjord off to save their squishy wizard friend bless them

YESSS the ladies getting the job done tonight!!

Oh god CALEB

Paralyzed, poisoned, grappled oh no

Oh thank god for the transmuter stone

It’s a nest I’m calling it

YEAAHHH NOTT!

Nott and Caleb are going to have to work things out soon

Cad talking to plants is my favorite

Cad is just my favorite I love him

I don’t like the idea of them going underground under the ocean nope

Nott hates Fjord but also trying to hook Fjord and Jester up still because as far as she knows Jester still like-likes him

J: "Do you want to climb through it?"

N: "I don’t want to but I will. It’s my job."

The whole group needs to come together and realize that they have put Nott in a position of feeling like she is the one expected to go first into the dangerous unknown and that she probably feels expendable because of that

Cad apologizing to the seaweed when Yasha rips it

I’m curious about why Fjord is so instant that he needs to leave one of the orbs at all.

Oh look another skeleton

Oooo mystery potion

Oh no

Oh no is it Vandrin...?

Look at Travis’ face when Matt was describing everything he looked like he knew something

Don’t touch the skeleton there’s something about the skeleton

Travis was REAL afraid it was Vandrin

...Maybe the seaweed crushes you as you try to get out

Oh or maybe the crabs crushed him it’s fine

Oh I have such a bad feeling

"If something does go wrong that should be my burden." Oh Fjord.

Fjord gives me so many feelings, like I think he wants to to the right thing but he also wants answers and he’s got guilt and he’s got fears and he’s like got no idea what he’s doing and the group keeps looking at him like he does and I just have feels about Fjord

I’M HAVING A LOT OF FEELINGS WITH THIS FJORD AND JESTER INTERACTION

"dont turn evil. I mean if you do I’ll still be your friend it’s okay some people are just evil" Jester <3

Cad casting "protection from evil"

Everyone’s so worried about Fjord

I’m worried about Fjord

GASP HE USED HIS (real?) ACCENT

Oh god oh god he’s loosening the bindings oh god

He better get some cool new magic from this

I DONT LIKE THIS

Liam and Marisha look as stressed as I feel

So that must be the third temple. On an island or some place with mountains.

SWIM FJORD SWIM GET AWAY

Oh god I don’t like this

Wooo control water go Jester!

The clerics saving the day that geyser would have fucked then UP

AYYEEE MY BOY CONTROLS WATER NOW

...that’s actually bad tho god he shouldn’t have put that second one in. A single lock left isn’t enough security.

Oh god another ship RUN

Oh shit Caleb heard Fjord’s accent

Boy this whole thing has just been STRESS. I hope they just run away from this shop and leave sailing behind for a while.

We’re gonna have ourselves a proper sea battle here we go

Nope we’re gonna run?

Get Fjord and the clerics on the back to push

Goddd I can’t shake the theory that Sabien and Vandrin both survived and Sabien convinced Vandrin that Fjord was who blew up the ship to get the orb. And since Fjord now has U’kotoa as a patron it’s gonna look bad.

HOLY SHIT Cad capsized a fucking ship

Guys come on don’t fire on a capsized ship

Nott, Fjord, And Beau get WAY too caught up in the heat of the moment. If they weren’t so worked up they wouldn’t be shooting on an already dealt with ship

Oh sure now you pull in the survivors

"We just got taken out by the Ball Eater..."

A smiley face with risks and big googly eyes

Jester messaging her mom again I’ve missed that

So much loot!!

B: “We should put some money aside to pay the crew.”

F: “They die before we reach the shore.”

Everyone: 8O ???

Beau’s got lots of family issues that I can’t wait to delve into later

“You only get one family” FALSE she has found a new family you goober

Oh no

Oh Beau sweetie

Oh honey. That’s so sad.

Beau has a baby brother tho wow that could be fun later.

Oh baby giiiiirl.

Oh jeeze Nott’s tribe too...

Fjord just wants to find Vandrin like that’s been his main goal the whole time and I cry a little

Fjord wants out that’s good news

Although if U’kotoa does choose someone else then there’s only one temple left so that’s bad

Ooo the glowy orb will definitely be useful

Caleb says tree and Caduceus IMMEDIATELY puts the rock in his pocket

Nott should get the armor she rarely gets the new things. Although it would be cool if Jester had it too.

“I can claim ownership in name only, but we all know who the captain of this ship is” ORLI THAT’S SO SWEET!

That’s exactly how I hoped it would go tbh

“I wonder what Vandrin’s doing right now?” WHAT?!

“staying out of sight. making amends.” HE’S ALIVE!!!

I can’t wait to delve into Nott’s stuff. Going home. FINDING OUT WHO SHE’S BEEN SENDING STUFF TO.

The friend is the guy she freed isn’t he?

N: “You can make people see things that aren’t real and you can... can change things from one thing to another. You’re very good at that, aren’t you?” STOOOOOP

God I missed these nerds.

I’m not gonna be able to watch live for the whole next semester because I’m an idiot who signed up for a Friday morning clinic *cries* but I can’t wait for everything that comes next!

Happy Twenty-Nein-Teen, Criters!

[fortunatowrites]

Journey of the Mimic

Writing Prompt: A group of adventures return home to find out that their pet is missing. Their pet is a Mimic.

“What’s a mimic?” asked Charlie, the newest addition to the fateful band of adventurers.

She was a cleric and had decided to join up with this band of a fighter, barbarian, and mage when they came to the rescue of her city from an evil sorcerer.

“It’s a little hard to explain,” spoke the fighter known as Theobes.

Theobes turned his head to the half-orc barbarian, Grognock.

“Mimic is creature that change to objects. It look like chest, but full of teeth and a tongue.”

“Yeah, that’s good description,” spoke Annabelle, “Now where the hell did it get off to?”

The four adventurers were returning to their base, a small fort in the middle of some hill lands, and were now actively searching the place for a treasure chest that drags itself across the floor. After combing through their entire base, they finally concluded that the mimic was gone.

“I found these keys on the seat,” spoke Charlie.

“Oh great, the door was left open and the keys were left out,” Annabelle said angrily.

“Well, let’s just be glad only our mimic is gone?” asked Theobes, trying to hide his guilt.

“Alright, this could be a horrible situation and we’ve gotta fix it,” spoke Annabelle.

“Why’s that, boss?” asked Grognock.

“We’re just outside the city of Hillgrand, Grognock.” “They think we’re heroes,” spoke Theobes.

“They don’t know mimic from us.” “That’s a good point!” Theobes said excitedly. “Then we can immediately forgive whoever left the base door opened and unlocked!”

Charlie and Annabelle exchanged looks of disbelief before reaffirming they were going to find this mimic before it wreaked havoc on the city. As they got ready to leave, Charlie noticed a pool of blood seeping from beneath a closet door.

“Uh… guys?” she asked.

Grognock stomped over to the closet and put his hand around the doorknob. Charlie could swear she saw a sadistic smile on his face as he ripped the door open, destroying the doorframe. Inside there was a large wooden chest, blood dripping from the closed lid. It opened up to reveal a set of teeth and let out a small bark.

“Chomper is home!” declared Grognock as he pet the mimic.

“Thank goodness that’s resolved!” Theobes said, miming the act of wiping sweat away from his forehead. “Time for a deserved rest.” “Alright, crisis averted. I wonder how he ended up in the closet though.” “Maybe he chase rat.”

-

Some time earlier...

The sounds of a lock being undone clicked through the silent hall.

“Presto,” a voice declared.

Five unruly men and a large half-orc woman entered the base: a band of rogues. Chomper sat in the corner, absolutely still and assuming the usual shape of a treasure chest. Anticipation almost made him quiver as he watched his would-be meals wander through the base.

“Damn, look at that, Gabryell!” said a short man with tan skin and equipped with several swords.

Gabryell, a tiefling with red skin and a pair of short horns that poked out from under his hair, looked over at the large chest. “Wow, these morons just leave their valuables out for us. They’re just asking us to rob them, aren’t they, Saffron Double-Threat?”

They gave a surly chuckle and started walking over to the chest. They stopped short as another man ran in front of them.

“Guys, wait! What if they’ve got dogs here?” asked Demontooth.

He was a dependable fighter and great for their operations, but had the unfortunate downfall of suffering from a phobia of dogs. “Well I don’t smell any,” replied Gabryell with a sneer.

“You can’t smell anything at all!” declared Hantrus.

“Then I guess there’s nothing here!” joked Saffron.

Everyone but Demontooth roared with laughter. Hantrus lugged up some chains and set them on the ground. Looking at the feet of who he spoke to, he declared their next actions.

“Let’s be quick. Demontooth, chain up the chest. Double, let’s search for any guards. People or dogs. Gabryell, help him Demontooth with the chest.”

“Uhm, my eyes are up here,” declared Saffron. “Double-Threat,” spoke Arii Squawk, “Don’t give yourself to the reaper too soon. I need you still.”

The four of them stood at attention while the boss walked over to a chair and sat down. The fifth man trailed right behind her. “What do you require, mistress?” asked Wartdragon.

“Fill the wagon for the boys while I make myself at home.” “Right away, mistress.”

Chomper got ready to attack as Demontooth timidly approached the chest, watching for dogs. Unfortunately, he was faster and threw the chains on the mimic. It stunned Chomper and in his daze, he was chained up. He tried to morph away but there was magic on the chains, something to help move chests that had been magically sealed or locked. It also had the side effect of preventing Chomper’s shapeshifting.

As Chomper was carried out by Demontooth and Gabryell, he saw the rest of the rogues looking through the base. Set on the back of a carriage amongst other wares, Chomper could do nothing but wait. Chomper wasn’t intelligent enough to formulate big plans, but he understood that the base was his home and he didn’t like being taken away. That was also the home of his friends and he hoped the three of them would return soon. Unfortunately, they had recently set out and were in the middle of trying to survive the dungeon of a mad sorcerer.

About half a day later, the wagon was being parked back at the rogues’ base of operations. “Why does Wart get to stay behind with the boss?” complained Gabryell as he unloaded the cart. “You ever notice he’s missing an ear and fingers?” asked Hantrus.

“Yeah. Clumsy guy shouldn’t have blades, right?”

Saffron laughed before answering for Hantrus, “Dude’s got a gambling problem, idiot.” “So?” “So, he owes his life to the boss. He used to be a noble or some crap before he got himself into so much trouble. Now he’s been trained to be her living weapon.”

“Oh,” Gabryell said as he began moving the unloaded stuff inside.

Demontooth grabbed the chest and began dragging it in. “Where do you want this, Hantrus?” he asked, looking directly at the man. Hantrus, avoiding eye contact, turned his head towards Demontooth and pointed to a corner. “I’ll start cracking it open while you guys lay out the loot.”

It took some time for Hantrus to gather his thieves’ tools and return to the room with the chest. As he approached, suddenly Saffron called out. With a sigh, Hantrus set down his tools and went across the hall to their room. Chomper could faintly hear them conversing.

“Wow, that is an interesting relic. Demontooth, you’ll have to use your connections to find a fence to get a price on this. I’ll check it for anything special, just grab it when you’re done in here.” “How come Demontooth always gets to do this stuff?” asked Saffron. “Cause I grew up in an underground city, idiot,” retorted Demontooth. “Ah. Well I came from the desert and we did tons of trading there. My dad can tell us where to fence it.” “Fine! Both of you do it,” Hantrus said with a huff.

Returning to the room, Hantrus set the strange statue in the corner of the room. Gabryell shut the door to the loot room with a slam, yelling something about Saffron’s dad. Finally, Hantrus picked up his tools and began to remove the chains from the chest.

Suddenly, the chest had two eyes that stared directly into Hantrus’ eyes. Hantrus froze with fear and anger as there was nothing more in this world he hated than eye contact. “FOUL DEMON!” he cried and lunged forward to stab it with a lock pick.

Chomper’s mouth opened wide and Hantrus tried to scream with terror as he fell into the mouth. Nothing would be heard as Chomper’s large tentacle-like tongue wrapped around his head to silence him and pull him in. Chomper’s eyes turned to the statue. He used his tongue to grab it and fling it at the front door. Through sheer luck, he hit the door directly on the doorknob and in a critical spot, causing the door to break and swing open. The statue rolled away under the cart.

Gabryell threw open the loot door and ran into the room.

“The chest is gone!” he called.

Demontooth and Saffron came running out and looked around.

“Do you think Hantrus stole it?” asked Demontooth. “Impossible,” replied Saffron. “Clearly he took it to some fence, the lock must have been too hard. Look, he even kicked the statue over.” Saffron pointed to the relic that was laying on its side, near where the chest had been moments ago.

“Well, let’s go take care of that then.”

Saffron and Demontooth hopped in the wagon while Gabryell began walking over to a stable to grab a horse.

“Where are you going?” asked Demontooth. “I’ve gotta report to the boss.” “Just ride with us, we’ll go there after getting rid of this statue.” “Fine,I guess.”

The three of them began to ride into town. A few moments later, Saffron brought them to a stop.

“My dad says there’s an old trader here.” “Good lord,” Gabryell began. “He’s real, dammit!” shouted Saffron. “I’m the Double-Threat because my ghost dad is haunting me!” Demontooth just sat quietly and stared forward, hoping this wouldn’t take long.

“Fine, go follow Ghost Dad. Hope you don’t get killed in a back alley.” Saffron took the statue and walked off into the back alley. There was the sound of a scuffle and a scream. Demontooth and Gabryell looked at each other for a minute. “Dad, what do you mean you hated me? Oh god, no!” Demontooth jumped out of the carriage and ran down the alley. There was blood strewn about, a bloody knife, and the statue sitting on the ground. “Oh no,” Demontooth said as he looked around. “I think he really did get jumped and killed.” Gabryell pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and stayed out of the alley. He fumed for a moment and then told Demontooth to just grab the statue and get out of here. When Gabryell went back for the statue, it was now the shape of a dog. He yelped and fell over. Frozen with fear, he quickly tried to draw his sword. It was already too late as Chomper’s tongue wrapped around his leg.

Gabryell ran down the alley upon hearing the screaming again and saw almost exactly what Demontooth saw the first time.

“I’ll kill you guys for this,” he called out as he grabbed the statue and ran. “Damn it...  I gotta go back to the boss!”

Less than half a day later, they returned to the base. Gabryell picked up the statue and proceeded to go inside. As soon as he stepped in, Wart lunged out at him with a dagger. Instinctively, Gabryell backhanded him and kicked him aside.

“Oh. My bad, man.” “No… It’s okay,” Wart replied as he got up.

The boss came walking out from down the hall, swinging around a ring of keys.

“Looks like we should just upgrade by moving all our stuff to here,” she told Gabryell. “Where’s the other three?”

“Hantrus ran off with that chest,” he said slowly, judging Arii’s face as he talked, “Saffron’s Ghost-Dad got him and Demontooth kidnapped by some thugs while trying to pawn this stupid statue.”

“We’ll find them and make them pay,” Arii responded. “Hantrus will return with an opened chest, for sure.” “Where should I put this statue?” asked Gabryell. “Well, it’ll look out of place if they walk in and see it. I want to take them by surprise. Set it in the kitchen.”

“Yes, m’am.”

As Gabryell stepped into the kitchen, the statue had a tongue reach out and spill cooking oil. Unable to smell it, Gabryell walked right into it and slipped, falling on the stone flooring and cracking his skull. His scream of pain rang out and through the base.

Wart poked his head in to see the statue had taken the form of the chest again and was eating Gabryell. He screamed and ran.

“Arii! It’s a mimic!”

“Damn it all! We’ve got to kill it. It won’t fight us if we stick together.”

Wart nodded and ran besides her. She equipped her crossbow and they walked towards the kitchen. As they walked in, they simply saw blood and oil on the floor. They looked around as they investigated the kitchen, trying to spot anything out of place.

Suddenly, a chest with large spider-like legs fell from the ceiling onto Wart, knocking him to the floor. Arii pointed her crossbow at it and it skittered back into the main entrance room. Lifting Wart back to his feet, Arii chased behind it. They both entered the room but Arii immediately noticed the extra chair by the closet.

“Damn it,” she bluffed, “It must have gotten away. I’m going to hang my crossbow in the closet. Wart, grab a seat.”

“You want me to sit and relax, mistress?” he asked.

“Yes,” she growled. “But not in my seat.”

Wart began to walk towards the mimic and then he realized what he she meant. As she opened the closet door and turned her back, the mimic lunged at Wart. Quickly, he dodged out of the way as it stumbled across the floor, the legs skittering out from underneath it again. Arii whipped around and tried to shoot it, but it used its tongue to grab her arm and shake the crossbow away. Using her orcish strength, she pulled the creature and slammed it into the closet. Before she could free her arm, it bit off her hand. Ignoring the pain, she yanked her arm free of the monster and slammed the door. Using the keyring, she then locked the closet.

“Stupid monster!” she said cradling her wound.

Wart walked up to her and ripped off his shirt for bandaging. They wrapped up her arm and she handed him the crossbow. “Watch the closet. I’m going to get some medicine. Wait here, Wart.”

As she walked away from the base, an arrow thunked into her back. She turned back, more angry than surprised.

“My name is Elandrial Thorntree.”

He shot her several times and she collapsed in the doorway. Slowly unlocking the door and cracking it open, Elandrial saw nothing inside. The mimic was hiding. He quickly shoved Arii into the doorway and felt something pull her inside. Then he immediately shut and locked the door again. Throwing the keys on the seat, he then turned and left. As he walked down the road, he saw a band of adventurers returning home.

[the-rogue-apostate]

Out of the Darkness - Chapter 6

Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but it’s here now!

Have a screenshot to go with it! 

Anyway, as always, I’ve posted a link to the fic on Ao3 as well in a separate post. But here’s a quick link for you anyway!

No warnings other than the usual apply for this chapter. 

Stay tuned for more screenshots, & please enjoy (under the cut)!

   Chapter 6  

   Kara was safe, at least for the time being.  

   As far as the people of Haven were concerned, she was a hero. It wasn’t something she took lightly, but it just wasn’t sinking in for her. She could still hardly believe any of it was really happening.  

   Varric Tethras, who somehow decided to stick around, felt the same way. She’d met up with him after her encounter with Cassandra and Leliana in the Chantry. He was still friendly as ever, and pretty soon they’d become kindred spirits in the “I can’t believe this shit is real” club.    

   He’d been kind enough to fill her in on a few key things she ought to know; mostly about Cassandra. She could tell immediately that he was intimidated by her, though he covered it with a thin veil of sarcasm. He’d already told her that she was a Seeker of Truth, a secret order that outranked the Templars in the Chantry, and that she’d pretty much been running the show as far as the Inquisition was concerned. He was also kind enough to mention that Kara, believe it or not, had missed much of her “frothing rage” while she was unconscious; she found it hard to believe that Cassandra could have been more frightening.  

   Things had also calmed down considerably since she closed the Breach; though it had only been a temporary fix, it was enough to stall the “end of the world” mindset among the soldiers and villagers. Initially, though, there were still a handful of people who were skeptical about Kara’s involvement. According to Varric, three separate people attempted to kill her while she was unconscious - they had since been removed from the village.  

   He was definitely worried, though, that much Kara could see. He covered it well with his sarcastic quips and jokes about “running at the first opportunity,” but he had the look in his eyes of a man who had seen some truly terrifying things. Someone who’d spent days fighting demons without an end in sight; she knew, because she saw that same look on everyone she’d met that day.    

   The conversation didn’t last very long; she had tons of questions for Varric, mostly about his writing, but felt there was a time and place for such talk. She’d only have an hour of free time before her presence was requested back at the Chantry. Cassandra explained that the advisors to the Inquisition wanted to meet with her, and to discuss the best way to move forward with the situation at hand. After all, the Breach might have been stable, but it was still in the sky. She knew she couldn’t provide much input, only the tool to close it, but she didn’t dare refuse.

~  

   “Does it trouble you?”

   Kara didn’t even realize she’d been contemplating her hand as she and Cassandra walked down the long corridor of the Chantry. When the Seeker’s voice interrupted her reverie, sure enough, the first sight she saw was the green shard in her palm. She sighed.  

   “That would be putting it lightly,” she remarked. “I just wish I knew what this damn thing was, and how it got in my hand.”  

   They stopped a few feet away from the door. Cassandra’s gaze softened slightly.  

   “We will find out,” she assured. “What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed - provided the mark has more power.”  

   Kara wasn’t sure she liked where Cassandra was headed. What did she mean by “more power?”  

   “The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”  

   There it was.  

   “Do you really think that’s wise? I mean, a ridiculous amount of power had to be used in order to open the Breach? Do we really want to risk making things worse?”  

   Cassandra chuckled slightly. “And people call me a pessimist. Come, we will discuss this further.”  

   The best word Kara could use to describe her reaction to Cassandra’s response - underwhelmed.  

   Kara immediately recognized two of the three advisors as she and Cassandra entered the room. There was Leliana, of course, who had been there seemingly from the beginning. The Commander, whose name Kara didn’t yet know, who they’d encountered on their way to the Breach. And finally, a third woman, who wore her hair in a perfectly braided bun and donned a yellow and purple silk dress; out of the five of them, she definitely looked the most out of place.  

   “You’ve met Commander Cullen Rutherford, leader of the Inquisition’s forces,” Cassandra began, motioning to the man across the table.  

   Kara made eye contact with him, and he smiled politely.  

   “It was only for a moment on the field. I’m pleased you survived,” he told her.  

   She simply responded with a small smile and a nod, holding his gaze a little longer before returning to Cassandra.    

   “This is Lady Josephine Montilyet,” she continued, referring to the well-dressed woman. “Our ambassador and chief diplomat.”  

   Josephine nodded. “I’ve heard much. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”  

   Her accent indicated to Kara that she was Antivan, making her seem that    much more out of place.    

   “And of course, you know Sister Leliana.”  

   For what was likely the first time, Leliana flashed her a small smile before replying.  

   “My position here involves a degree of-”  

   “She is our spymaster,” Cassandra said bluntly.  

   Leliana’s gaze narrowed a bit. “Yes...tactfully put, Cassandra.”  

   The timing of the moment was almost humorous, but Kara knew it wasn’t the time for snickering. She simply nodded once more.  

   “It’s good to meet you all,” she told them.  

   “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good,” Cassandra continued.  

   “Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana declared matter-of-factly.

   Kara blinked at the suggestion. Was this woman serious? She didn’t think it was a bad idea, exactly...but were they really considering asking the rebel mages for help? She could never imagine the mages agreeing to such a thing, especially with the Inquisition technically originating from the Chantry. Not to mention their constant struggle of evading the Templars; even before Kara left Redcliffe, the Templars had been close to bearing down on the village���  

   “And I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.”  

   This suggestion had come, rather sharply, from Commander Cullen. Surprisingly, though, no one else in the room seemed to be like minded.    

   Cassandra sighed before saying, “We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-”  

   “-might destroy us all,” he countered. “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-”  

   “Pure speculation,” Leliana cut in.  

   “I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.”  

   On instinct, Kara took a small step back from the table, hoping the others didn’t notice. She was admittedly caught off guard having learned the Commander was a Templar. For obvious reasons, she’d spent her entire life avoiding them, and never thought to find herself in the same room with one by choice. Still, he did say was, and it wasn’t the time to dwell on such things; and as far as she knew, everyone was savvy to the fact that she was a mage, anyway.    

   As far as the Breach solution was considered, as much as she hated to admit it…  

   “I think the Commander might have a point,” she found herself telling them. “The power that most likely caused the Breach had to be some sort of magic. Using more magic to try and fix it might just make it worse.”  

   There was a tense silence in the room. Commander Cullen nodded upon her response, while Cassandra and Leliana’s expressions couldn’t quite be read. Thankfully, Josephine chimed in.  

   “Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet,” she explained, gesturing to Kara with her quill. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition - and you, specifically.”

   Once more, Kara had to hold back a snicker, though she wasn’t nearly as amused. Normally, she could care less about the Chantry, but having them specifically “denounce” her meant they were calling attention to her - she couldn’t think of anything worse.  

   “That didn’t take long,” Kara commented plainly. “Glad to know that they still think I’m guilty.”  

   “Shouldn’t they be busy arguing over who’s going to become Divine?” Cullen joked, almost bitterly.    

   “That is not the entirety of it any longer,” Josephine told her. “Some are calling you - a mage - the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ - and that frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”  

   “Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt,” Cassandra realized angrily.  

   Josephine made another comment, but it was drowned out by a loud whooshing sound in Kara’s ears. Or perhaps it was manifested by her mind, considering she was convinced that it had stopped working. For she couldn’t possibly have heard the ambassador correctly just a moment prior.    

   “I’m sorry, I-I need to stop you for a moment,” Kara cut in, turning to Josephine. “Did you just say I’m being called the ‘Herald...of Andraste?’  

   “That is correct,” she replied politely.  

   Kara glanced between the four of them briefly, and scoffed before asking:  

   “How exactly am I the Herald of Andraste???” She could tell that she sounded manic, but she didn’t care.  

   “People saw what you did at the temple. How you stopped the Breach from growing,” Cassandra explained. “They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you...they believe that was Andraste.”  

   Oh is that all?  

   “Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-” Leliana added, before being cut off by Cassandra once more.

   “-which we have not.”  

   Leliana shot her a pointed look before continuing. “The point is everyone is talking about you.”  

   “It’s quite the title, isn’t it?” Cullen pointed out, seemingly amused. “How do you feel about that?”

   Kara felt it would be inappropriate to scream at that moment, so she attempted to calm herself internally before replying.  

   “Well...it’s...a little unsettling, to put it lightly,” she told him calmly.  

   He snickered. “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”  

   Kara didn’t know much about the Commander, save that he used to be a Templar. Ordinarily, that sort of fact would shape her opinion of him indefinitely, but she couldn’t help but appreciate his sense of humor when it came to the Chantry.    

   “People are desperate for a sign of hope,” Leliana continued. “For some, you’re that sign.”  

   “And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong,” Josephine added.  

   Kara was beginning to panic. She was more well-known than she thought; there was no way that could end well. For her...or for the Inquisition, from what they were telling her.  

   “Is my presence here going to cause any...serious issues?” she asked.  

   “Well let’s be honest - they would have censured us no matter what,” Cullen told her, almost reassuringly.  

   “And you not being here isn’t an option,” Cassandra declared.  

   “There is something you can do, if you wish to help further,” Leliana chimed in. “A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”  

   Kara was more than willing to help the cause, but she didn’t see how being thrown to the sharks would be in any way helpful. Despite Leliana’s confidence, this was one request Kara had to question.  

   “Why would someone from the Chantry help a declared heretic?”    

   “I understand she is a reasonable sort,” she explained. “Perhaps she does not agree with her sisters?”  

   It was rare, but there were a select few individuals in the Chantry who weren’t completely brainwashed by the organization. And to now have a woman who wanted to simply speak with her rather than bring the wrath of the Maker down upon her was somewhat encouraging.  

   “Fair enough. Where can I find this Mother Giselle?”    

   “You will find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe,” Leliana told her.  

   “At the Crossroads, I’m guessing?”  

   “That is correct.”  

   Kara nodded; she knew the area all too well. She’d visited the Crossroads a few times in the last few months, and assisted the refugees whenever she could. She very well could have spoken to this Mother Giselle and not even realized it; there were many who flocked there to help those caught up in the war.  

   “Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you’re there,” Cullen suggested.  

   “We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine added.  

   Kara held back a groan as she thought of the prospect of being the “face of the Inquisition,” gathering supporters everywhere she went. She was more than willing to help the cause, in addition to remaining to close the Breach, but she was never one to rally people together. It came with the territory of keeping to herself...it had always been better that way.  

   And then, as if reading her mind once more, Cassandra spoke up.  

   “In the meantime, let’s think of other options,” she told them. “I won’t leave this all to the Herald.”  

   She was really starting to like this woman.  

~  

   Before the meeting was adjourned, Leliana explained her plan for advancing on the Hinterlands. The area was wild and dangerous to begin with, but with the Mage-Templar war, it was worse than ever. Rogue mages and Templars hunted each other on a daily basis, and neither side gave a care to who was caught in the middle. The Crossroads had become something of a refuge for the civilian casualties, in addition to those who didn’t want to take sides in the conflict. She sent word to her scouts in the area and advised them to eliminate as many rogues in the area as possible. Hopefully it would allow them enough time to get Mother Giselle out of the area alive…  

   In the meantime, however, Kara was about ready to lose her mind. As she exited the Chantry, the phrase “Herald of Andraste” kept repeating in her mind. She could barely comprehend the implications of such a title. Surely, the people who came up with it couldn’t have understood, because there was no possible way that Kara was delivered unto the people of Thedas by the Holy Andraste herself.  

   “Good talk?”  

   Kara jumped as Varric suddenly appeared before her. She’d been so lost in thought as she made her way back through Haven that she didn’t even notice his approach. She looked down at him as he cocked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by her bewildered expression. Honestly, she didn’t feel she had to say more than four words for him to understand her mood.  

   “‘The Herald of Andraste?’”  

   “Ah,” he said, raising his head slightly. “Yeah, after a few of the townsfolk tried and failed to kill you in your sleep, the title started floating around. I didn’t think it would catch on, myself, but there are a lot more believers out there than I thought. I would’ve warned you sooner, but I couldn’t think of anything better to say than ‘Oh by the way, everyone’s been calling you the Herald of Andraste.’ Not the best thing to spring on someone out of the blue, in my opinion.”  

   Fair enough, she thought.  

   “Well, here’s hoping I can live up to that title...which I won’t.”  

   Varric smirked empathetically. “I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. I mean, the fact that you survived that explosion at all is pretty amazing in my book.”  

   Kara looked up at the Breach, contemplating it for a moment. A sudden wave of sadness overtook her, and she hoped it didn’t show.  

   “It is...isn’t it?” she muttered. “The only survivor...it’s hard not to feel guilty after something like that, despite how incredible it was.”  

   She looked back to him and saw him staring at the ground thoughtfully. Fearing she was making him uncomfortable, she quickly followed up with:  

   “I can’t focus on that now, though, I know. I’ll just do as much good with the time I now have.”  

   Varric reached up and patted her on the arm. “That’s a good attitude to have; the kind we all need to have. There are a lot of people in the Inquisition willing to take up arms against this disaster, which is what we need, but this…”  

   He turned away from Kara and stared up at the Breach a moment.  

   “You know, heroes are everywhere...I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky...that’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”  

   Kara was taken aback by his words, mostly because he was exactly right. This wasn’t a job for just anyone with a sword willing to put their life on the line. This really did need a miracle... and somehow, she knew, people were expecting her to be the miracle. All because of the mark in her hand…  

   “You may be right about that,” she told him. “I just ho- oof!”  

   Her sentence was cut off as a sharp pain suddenly ripped through her stomach. She doubled over slightly as she hugged her abdomen with one arm.   

   “Whoa, hey, you all right there?” Varric asked, clearly concerned as he rested a hand on her back.  

   Kara didn’t know how to respond. The pain was intense, but odd, almost like… 

   Oh…  

   “I think I’m fine, Varric,” she told him, straightening up. “I think my body just realized that it hasn’t eaten in a week.”  

   Varric breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled.  

   “Don’t worry, I think I know how we can fix that.”

[theinvulnerabletide]

Space Things: moon, Betelgeuse, Centaurus, sombrero galaxy, wormhole for Whisper; Neptune, aldebaran, delphinus, bode’s galaxy, comet for Oriana; Jupiter, deneb, Phoenix, andromeda, black hole for Maggie; mercury, Canopus, Orion, cigar galaxy, nebula for Lyra; earth, Sirius, Libra, cartwheel galaxy, supernova for Thirteen; mercury, alphard, Cygnus, Milky Way, meteor for Celandine; Uranus, Vega, hydra, sunflower galaxy, pulsar for Az’ar; Pluto, Rigel, Cassiopeia, black eye galaxy, comet for Kori

H’okay this is going under the cut because it is almost 2000 words and got very, very long. I apologize if you are on mobile. 

For Whisper: my terrible disaster tiefling sea sorceress:

Moon: What are you currently studying/hope to study?

Whisper is currently studying like…one and a half things in her free time. Which is taking forever because she’snot exactly a bookish person. She is currently learning Primordial (and is onlyabout 130 days from fluency!) and is muddling her way through spellcomposition.

Betelgeuse: What’s something you can never forget about?

Oh man. There’s a lot of things thatweigh on Whisper’s mind, but her obligations might be the heaviest, especiallywhen her loyalties start to conflict.

Centaurus: Favorite holiday?

Fisher’s Respite. Back home it was likea full-on Irish wake (after a very long church ceremony, which Whisper foundfascinating) and Whisper was even allowed to party with the adults for a littlewhile after she was old enough. Some of her favorite memories are from herfamily’s celebrations.

Her second favorite is probably TheGreat Hunt because of all the food. Though meeting a certain Wizard might havesoured that some.

Sombrero Galaxy: Do you have a crush right now?

Define “crush.” Because Whisper wouldcrush you for insinuating anything. In her own words, she likes most of theparty well enough, finds them all pretty attractive and would probably sleepwith them if she knew they weren’t going to be weird about it.

That’s what she tells herself, and Ithink she’s probably even convinced herself of it. But there’s definitely areason she’s only slept with an old friend and a professional since the partyjoined up. *waggles eyebrows*

Wormhole: What’s something you wish would happen, but knowwon’t?

Whisper has been waiting for a veryspecific thing to happen almost her entire life, and she’s half given up hopeof it ever occurring, so… being told she can come back home.

For Oriana, my aasimar paladin of Wahreight, and the Lady of Ambrose Grove;

Neptune: When’s your birthday?

Oriana doesn’t know her actualbirthday, but she chose day 197 (16 Alma'artius) as the day to celebrate on.

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about?

Doing her job the best of herability. The weird thing about Oriana is that she definitely believes in hercalling, in protecting and serving and making the world a better place. Shedesperately wants to protect the people she cares about and those who can’thelp themselves.

Delphinus: Favorite study?

I won’t say that Oriana hatesstudying, because she was methodical about it growing up and placed pretty highin all of her classes because of it, but she’s not a cleric, so she’s not inthe whole research division. More retrieval and dissemination.

That said, she really is enjoying theent philosophy books that Shade gifted her with, and I’m sure she’ll pick up afew more in the same vein once she’s finished with them.

Bode’s Galaxy: Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Not that she knows of. Though theremight have been someone who came up with her through paladin training and justnever came forward?

Comet: What’s your big dream?

Her dream used to be to make headlibrarian and perhaps get a small temple of her own to administer, but now it’sjust making the town of Ambrose Grove flourish again. She just wants to bringpeace and prosperity to the people she’s been made the guardian of.

For Maggie, my brand-newhuman warlock~

Jupiter: Do you have any siblings?

Yep! Maggie has a younger brother namedJack, who is training to be a wizard.

Deneb: Have you ever been out of your home country?

I don’t think Maggie has even been outof her province. She’s been out of Estwald a few times, to go into the forestto meet her patron, or out to smaller villages to help out with supernaturalthreats, but that’s probably as far from home as she has ever been.

Phoenix: Favorite thing to wear?

Maggie has a thick dark woolen long coatthat she wears in leiu of armor, a blue scarf she usually pairs with it. Theclothes underneath change, but her boots probably never do.

Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social?

Maggie’s entire world basically comesdown to work and her family, out of necessity. Letting people get too closecould expose her and give the Church exactly what they need to see her hung.She’d rather not have that happen.

Black Hole: What’s the last thing you want to see?

The last thing she would ever want tosee is her faerie godmother again. But the last thing she wants to see, like before she dies? Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a sunsetover the ocean; she’s never been to the ocean, but she hears its beautiful.

For Lyra, myhalf-elven rogue/pirate captain of the Star Song.

Mercury: What’s your full name?

Lyra Cooper is her whole name. Her mother never gave her a middle one. 

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone?

Lyra has broken more than a few bones.Some of them from jumping off of buildings and not being able to stop herselffrom hitting the ground, some of them deliberately done by the head of the thieves’guilds she’s been in to teach her a lesson. She had an arm and her nose brokenby Blackthorne himself.

Once she jumped off the bird’s nestand tried to swing down via a rope, but she missed the rope and hit the deckwrong and broke her ankle.

Orion: Favorite month?

Hm. It would probably be Mirius. Lyraalways did love the spring.

Cigar Galaxy: How’s your flirting skills?

Pretty good, all told, when she turnson the charm. She has been taught how to engage and flirt and be all kinds ofcharming. But she never flirts if it’s not for a specific purpose.

Nebula: If you could undo one thing in your life, what wouldit be?

Her mother’s death. If only hermother had survived, well. Who knows where she’d be now? Definitely not thecaptain of a skyship, but all those intervening years of pain and near-starvationand killing and hurting people for a living would also not have happened, andshe wants that almost as much as she wants to see her mother one last time.

For Thirteen, myfish-out-of-water Tabaxi rogue/monk.

Earth: Where’s your home?

Thirteen hails from a jungle islandoff the main continent of the world we were on. Faraway or something like that?Idk I can’t remember what it’s called and I am Too Lazy to get up and find thecampaign map.

But she grew up in a hidden Tabaxisociety and has since been exiled.

Sirius: Have you ever failed a class?

Hell no she hasn’t. She was in thetop percentile of all her classes because she is that damn good.

Libra: Favorite color?

Gold.

Cartwheel Galaxy: When was your first kiss?

Tabaxi don’t kiss like humans orother humanoids do. I don’t think their mouths are made for it. They do touchnoses though, and I think that would have been at about 16, with some male inher class who she just managed to beat.

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die?

Find the asshole who killed hermentor and rip his guts open.

Celandine, my preciousgnome wizard prodigy

Mercury: What’s your full name?

Celandine Salvia Darkhollow.

Alphard: Have you ever lost a friend?

Yes, I think she has. Aside from hersister, Greldamine, she had one good friend until she was about 6 years old,Emelina, who lived next door. Celandine doesn’t quite remember if she died orjust moved away, only that when they started 2nd grade, Emelina wasn’tthere.

Cygnus: Favourite weather?

Thunderstorms, definitely. Rain helpsher focus and the lightning provides power for all sorts of experiments.

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend?  

I think she would count Greldaminehas her oldest friend, since Greldamine has been there since before she wasborn.  

Meteor: What’s something you wish you could tell, but can’t?

The thing is, Celandine doesn’t havemuch of a filter on her, and she doesn’t know when shutting up is the bestoption, so most of the things she wants to say get said.

Maybe she wishes she could talk toher parents more frankly about what being a teenager is like, but she knows shewould get grounded and her tools taken away if they learned 1/8th ofthe shenanigans her and her friends have gotten up to this first year of highschool.

For Az’ar: the Shadar’kaiLore Wizard

Uranus: What’s your hobby?

Az’ar doesn’t really have anyhobbies. She has one goal and basically everything she does furthers it in someway or another.

Vega: What’s something you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t?

I think the only thing she regrets atall is having to kill so many Shadar’kai on the way out of the Shadowfell. But theywere in her way, and since they were offering her violence, she had to returnit. I bet she regrets not stealing away while most of the tribe were asleep,though, or hiding her attempt to leave better.

Hydra: Favorite sound?

The not-quite silence of an emptylibrary.

Sunflower Galaxy: Would you date/make friends with someoneout of pity?

Oh, hell no she would not. I thinkthe furthest she’d go out of pity is to kill them.

Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years?

1.) Determine a non-lich,non-necromatic way to remain alive forever.2.) Become the most powerful mage in all the realms.3.) Find the gods wherever they hide and kill them for good.

Kori: Oh heythat’s me!

Pluto: What time is it right now where you are?

5:56pm, CDT

Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster?

I have. And I do enjoy them a lot,though it’s been a while for me. I think the last time was when my family wentup to the Wisconsin Dells and we spent the day at Mount Olympus? Good day.

Cassiopeia: Favorite book?

Oh, gosh. This is such a hardquestion because not only does it change all the time, but I have like 60 ofthem at once.

I’m going to go with the His DarkMaterials series for my favorite books of all time (followed very closely bythe Abhorsen Series by Garth Nix), and my current favorite book is Space Operaby Cathrynne M. Valente, and my favorite short story collection is theConservation of Shadows by Yoon Ha Lee.

Black Eye Galaxy: Do you believe in love at first sight?

Love? No. Weird visceral attraction?Yes. I have had some very intense first eye contact before. And even that muchsounds super weird so I’m going to stop there.

Comet: What’s your big dream?

Oh, man. A partner or two, a house orapartment that’s big enough for everyone, maybe with a yard with just enoughroom for a garden in the back, and a room I can use for a library/office. Abook series that’s actually making money that is still in print, even if I haveto work a job or two on the side of writing. We’re living comfortably andpaying our bills on time and I get to see my friends pretty often, and there’sd&d on the weekends and maybe I get invited to stream stuff occasionally.

That’s really it. Quiet mornings, a cat or two, lotsof reading.

[fernsplaysthings]

Curse of the Crimson Throne update! I haven’t written this down in a while and it really helps when we’ve been playing every week for a whole year pff

We’re still in Scarwall. Let’s lay that out first.

Iliya: I’m small, I could fit through the bars... DM: Sorry, you’re too busty. *Later* DM: Iliya you can fit through here. Iliya: Didn’t you say I was too busty? DM: I only said that because I thought it’d make you happy. Iliya:...It does. I’m so predictable. (Made better with the context that I am a lesbian and DM is gay and, although a sarcastic pun lord, a really sweet guy.)

DM: There’s five doors here...behind four of them are goats... Me: NO. NO MONTY HALLING US NOW. (Followed by about an hour of Monty Hall Problem based puns and jokes that really pissed off Syys’ player.)

We had two goals; break the curse on the keep that is Scarwall and find the legendary blade of Iomedae, Sarethial. 

We’ve got to the point where one of those is completed.

To break the curse we needed to find the ‘spirit anchors’ that were holding the Chained Spirit in place, kill them and then kill the Spirit. There were four spirit anchors all of which were poetically described in the song our resident ghost tarot reader sung for us.

The first anchor was easy. Iliya made Wenyld really big and he basically stood in front of everyone with his magic shield up and we demolished the anchor and it’s friends. 

Nafe got hurt pretty bad on the initial charge, but otherwise we were fine.

Between things; Iliya because agoraphobic, Syys suddenly hated Orcs, Nafe was terrified of the colour blue and...Iliya became trapped in a tower.

And then we met the Banshee that attacked us on the fly over. It was disgusting. It managed to get it’s Wail off and two of us failed our saves so we had to take 140 damage. Well, that’s more than enough to kill Iliya. Luckily our DM is a story driven, generous soul and our Harrow points can save us from death effects and leave us at 1HP. We did manage to kill it but gods it was bad.

The second anchor was a devil locked in a tower. That one kind of sucked for Nafe too. He was impaled by a evil’s tail and came very close to dying. Wenyld popped a Dispel Evil off though and we banished it back to wherever it came from. Not bad (if you weren’t Nafe).

Somewhere between all this we went back to our Halfling Alchemist Goetus worshipping companion we met and it turned out that she...wasn’t a Halfling at all but a monster wearing the Halfling’s skin. Luckily he was an ally and offered all of his resources and knowledge...

In return for our skin. One of us.

Like...literally someone’s skin. Peeled off. To be worn.

After a moment of planning how someone would...survive that (and myself and Wenyld’s player being super excited about how fucking metal this Halfling was to peel her own skin off) Wenyld jumped at the chance to be totally flayed.

Laori, our Zon Kuthon worshipping Cleric who was helping us out had a big old healing skill ready to fix Wenyld as soon as his skin was gone.

And once he was ready...the monster literally grabbed Wenyld by the face and ripped all of his skin off in one go. The DM delightfully described the gore and the huge amount of blood that had been splattered over the room.

Iliya was enthralled. Nafe puked his guts up. I think Syys and Atticus were mildly disturbed and had hidded away from the splash zone.

Wenyld got better.

Except now all of his hair was gone and the cursed ring that made his ‘stache blue had been removed.

We spent a moment touching Wenyld’s super silky smooth new skin.

And then realised he was totally naked.

Anyhow, third anchor.

An Umbral dragon. It wasn’t horrible. Not...too bad. It had a disgusting breath weapon that stung but otherwise we took it down pretty cleanly.

The next enemy that gave us trouble was a Priest of Zon Kuthon and it’s giant monster friend that were guarding the fuuucking Star Tower we found in the middle of this terrible place.

Syys got pummelled into oblivion.

And then...the final anchor.

We wandered into a cathedral at the base of the Star Tower. A few red curtains and a couple of statues of Zon Kuthon about...and an alter.

On the alter our DM described a pile of ash and splinters of bone with a jewel encrusted skull sitting in it. We all had a bit of a moment because...

Iliya loves shiny things.

Wenyld loves cool skulls.

(We realised this was about to be the best Wenildiya aesthetic.)

Syys slipped into the Ethereal plane to see if he could find the next spirit chain and it was wrapped around the skull...

So Wenyld dispelled it and it was done.

Syys identified this as a dormant Demilich.

And we freaked out and kinda avoided it. Almost left except...

Except...

DM: Oh hey...Iliya. You should...appraise those gems, huh? Me: But that would disturb the ashes... DM: They’re several thousand GP each. Me:... Atticus: *Shoots the skull*

Demiliches, especially this guy, are tough. Zev Ravenka is notorious in CotCT for party wipes and TPKs. He comes with special instruction on how to gently nerf him so that you don’t brutally murder all of the PCs in 5 turns.

We were shitting. We’d prebuffed and everything.

Everyone made their save against his Banshee Wail.

And then Nafe critted it with his x4 Holy Rifle and 1HKO’d the asshole.

Anticlimactic AF.

So now it was back to the Chained Spirit that was causing the curse.

It floated 20ft up in the air at almost all times and we found out it could resurrect and bring to us...enemies...we...had killed.

He bought up the Corpse Orgy first.

Iliya obliterated it with a Fire Snake.

The Chained Spirit could also cause big damn Charisma drain. For most of our party this isn’t too much of a threat except Iliya only has 7 CHA. Wenyld is on 10. We had to keep a running tally so someone could toss out a Restoration at some point.

Aha.

We were slowly whittling this guy down until I made Wenyld big again, he pulled out his scythe, buffed himself to the ears and confirmed a crit on this bastard for 117 damage. Which pissed it off.

And instead of getting weaker it went apeshit and in one turn downed Wenyld to -11 HP and 0 charisma. Dropped Iliya to -10 charisma. Punched Syys’ face off...and his Graveknight that he’d bought back was grappling (a now gorrila formed) Atticus to death.

Nafe crit again and saved everyone’s life.

It was amazing. We’re so close to done.

[lairofsentinel]

Neverwinter Nights 2 – Mask of the Betrayer

This expansion felt SO Pillars of Eternity the more I got close to the ending.

[spoilers ahead]

0. About the game I loved the concept. This is not a game about Evil vs Good, but a third option: faithless. It was written in a way that inspired some reminiscence to Neil Gaiman’s works, and a lot of soft, subtle concepts that we deeply explored in Pillars of Eternity. I loved this expansion. It only needed Sand in it to be better :P.

I have to say that when I started to realise where the whole plot was going, I was afraid for my OC since my char has no deity. I thought that detail was going to play a bigger role in the plot, though. Sadly, it didn't.

1. The first character I first fell in love with Gann. He is just so chill and calm. After the fight-storm of your companions in the official campaign, the Dream-boi is lake water. Also, I enjoyed a lot these creatures called hagspawns. I had no idea there were such creatures in dnd. And how ironic for Gann to be a beautiful one. Maybe because he was the result of Love. True love. Quite cheesy concept hidden in him xD.

2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now Sand!!!. I know, He is not here... technically.

He is in the dreams, though. I'm glad he survived thanks to transmutation magic (according to Jero's words); probably turning into iron or some metal. Sand is a smart survivor <3.

Though, poor Casavir. He was boring but not to ear that fate :(. But focussing on this expansion, I would say that Okku was a surprise. It was lovely to have a God Fey Bear companion.

3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t. There are none in this expansion. I didn't play with One of Many, so I don't know. But considering the bits I've read in wiki, probably that one.

I would say that The Dove was a kind of “meh” character to me, but at the same time, the concept (not completely developed to my taste) she carries is one I love for Paladins and Clerics: divine warriors that question their gods or lose their faith. I always wanted to see and explore a character such as that, which sadly, DnD doesn't allow you much since Paladins and Clerics need some entity from which drag their powers. But the concept is amazing. The ending I got for The Dove is not bad either: she will be constantly attacking the Wall to destroy it, becoming an ex faithful of a God that now she fights against, and her wings became black (signature of The Fallen Asimars) doing the “right thing”.

 I LOVE that concept. Her personality, though... felt pretty meh. It makes a lot of sense considering she is an asimar and followed those dull gods, but it makes her a bit too oversimplified. I also liked her colour-blindness as a metaphor of how binary she sees the world in the beginning. Which is an amazing contrast with her ending.

In general, I liked all the companions, one more than others (with the exception of One of Many, to whom I didn't meet)

4. The character I love that everyone else hates It's still Sand. Haha. For this expansion: Akachi? I liked what he did. I always love those characters that defy their Gods or can't accept their smallness before them. It's such an heroic concept. And the twist that such action was not simply epic defiance but true deep love, it was really nice. I felt sad that I could not convince Kelemvor to let Akachi and the Red Woman stay together in the afterlife. That would have brought truly peace for those two. Damn Kelemvor.

5. The character I used to love but don’t any longer None? I liked all of them in different degrees.

6. The character I would totally smooch Okku and Gann.

7. The character I’d want to be like The Red Woman. I keep choosing Red Wizards, it’s a bad thing. But the hell of a mastermind she was with all that plan, uh?.

8. The character I’d slap It's Qara still. The feeling remains despite the expansion.

9. A pairing that I love like Akachi and the Red Woman. It was a nice twist; and both of them did a lot for the other. It was not like the usual heterosexual romantic couple in which one of them does everything for the other and the whole thing seems a bit one-sided. Here it was a full circle, and we can see deep devotion to each other, despite their terrible mistakes. Mistakes born from deep love, like Gann himself. Mmph. 

10. A pairing that I despise None. This Expansion was truly chill with the companions. I liked them. All of them felt mature characters with flaws and strong points but nothing ridiculous or childish or pathetically psychopathic. I liked that. Though, I can’t speak for One of Many.

[confused-stars]

A Bad Cycle

(Davenchurch if you wanna read it like that? Not explicitly stated though. It’s just angst, I don’t know what to tell you.)

Once again, the Starblaster enters another planar system, masterfully weaving her way through the sky under Davenport's experienced hands.

His position in the pilot's seat changes just a bit as they break through and rematerialize, but he's long since gotten used to that.

There's quiet voices behind him as the others shake off the initial dizziness. They're not catching each other up yet, that'll happen during dinner, but there's a lot of "I missed you"s and "I'm glad you're back"s.

Davenport can tell without looking that everyone gathered together for a group hug. He doesn't mind not being part of it. He'll get what he needs once he's safely landed the ship.

"Barry, you got a second?" he asks. There's some mumbled complaints from Lup and Magnus, but a moment later Barry puts his hand on Davenport's shoulder.

"You doin' alright?" he asks, and Davenport huffs out a laugh. Barry is the only one who knows. Barry was the last one left, until six months in. After he died, Davenport was on his own.

He doesn't want to worry anyone. He did fine by himself. He's their captain, he can handle it.

"I need you to keep an eye on Merle until I get the chance to talk to him," he says instead of giving an answer, "If he goes into parlay this early again..."

Barry nods. Squeezes his shoulder. They feel the same way about that. Barry had to watch the others die the same as Davenport, Barry is the one who held Lup through the final hours, taking care not to actually touch her skin so he wouldn't catch the infection.

Merle could have helped them, he's a capable cleric, no matter what he thinks of himself. At the very least he could have minimized their suffering, and he would have been there after... Davenport wouldn't have been alone.

But instead he went to talk to John a week into the cycle, and that was it. And Davenport... Davenport is angry.

He gets angry a lot these days, but the last year must have been his hardest so far. It just doesn't end. It keeps going and going and one day they'll be just to exhausted to run anymore.

The only reason they haven't given up so far is because they hold each other up. And even that is just so much harder without the beacon of hope that Merle has become for all of them.

But Merle... Merle prefers talking to the being responsible for their suffering. He's not even gathering important information anymore. Davenport doesn't understand. What is it about John that draws Merle in like a moth to the light? How can they get him back?

Davenport tries not to think too hard as he brings the Starblaster down on top of a steep cliff, the strangely red-ish ocean a hundred feet below. He lands carefully and looks out at the new world for a while before he gets up to join everyone in the kitchen.

Taako is making pasta, Lup is cooking some pudding for dessert; comfort food for the weary travelers.

Davenport clears his throat. "Merle? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Everyone tenses up a bit. They know what he's going to say, they know how angry he is. Barry... Barry knows even more about how he feels, and Davenport isn't sure he's comfortable with that.

Merle still seems oblivious. He gives Davenport an easy smile that only serves to make him even angrier. It's been too long since he's seen that smile.

"Sure, Dav."

Davenport turns and heads for the bridge without a word.

"So I feel like I'm making some actual progress with John," Merle tells him lightly as they walk, "He's still hiding stuff, but I feel like I'm getting through to him as a person. He actually told a joke this time."

Davenport balls up his fists. Stops in his tracks. "I'm glad you had fun with him, Merle," he says, not looking at him.

He can feel Merle deflate next to him. "That's not what I-"

"Don't you want to know what you joking around with John cost us?" Davenport starts walking again, he doesn't want the others to hear this. He doesn't want to worry them.

"Dav... what the hell are you talking about?"

"Captain," Davenport corrects sharply, as if any of them ever called him captain, as if they weren't a family instead of just a crew.

Merle falls silent, but Davenport only turns around when they get to the bridge and the door closes behind them.

"Dav..." Merle says again, confused and worried. He reaches out a hand but Davenport backs away. Holds himself straight, hands behind his back as he starts pacing.

"Lucretia got sick two months in. It was bad. She was in so much pain towards the end... and there were no people around, no one to help her. No one to heal her." He glares at Merle before resuming his pacing. "It was highly contagious. Transmitted through skin contact. Magnus got sick next. Then, a week later, Taako started showing symptoms. Then Lup. They all hurt so much, Merle. It was such a hard way to die. Hard to watch, too."

Merle reaches out for him again, but Davenport shakes off his hand. "Barry got killed while trying to get back the light. There was a dragon guarding it. I barely even made it out."

He turns and pokes his finger into Merle's chest. "All this would have nearly ended because of your... your infatuation with the monster that's trying to kill us all!"

He wants to punch something. Burn all his spell slots on a monster or two. Instead, he takes a deep breath.

"From now on you're not going into parlay until the last week of a cycle. That's an order."

Merle looks at him with wide eyes. They're full of regret and worry and guilt and... something Davenport can't read.

"I didn't think you'd need me that much. I'm sorry."

Davenport barks out a laugh. "Didn't think we'd need you? Merle, even without an emergency we need you around! You don't know what it's like not having you here because you always take the first opportunity to run off to John-"

"That's how I make myself useful!" Merle holds up a hand to stop him from speaking. "It's the one thing I can do where I feel like I'm contributing to the end goal. I'm not just repeating, I'm actually working on changing things. It's not... an infatuation or whatever. It's never... Dav, you know I wouldn’t do that to you. All of you."

Davenport hates himself for not knowing that. He doesn't feel like it's true. He turns away from Merle. "You're dismissed."

Of course Merle doesn't leave. He'll never leave someone in need.

His arms come up to hug Davenport from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. "I am sorry. I didn't think... You're all such capable fighters, and I didn't think of an illness killing them like that... I don't know if I'd even have been able to help."

Maybe not. Davenport stays tense, even though he wants to lean back into Merle's warm chest. He's missed physical contact. "You'd have been there," he murmurs, "Maybe you'd have survived with me, at least. I wouldn't..."

He doesn't want to talk about it. He really doesn't.

"You were alone for six months. You have a right to be upset." Merle is always so understanding. Damn him.

"I... everyone was gone. It's my responsibility to lead you all, and I had to watch you die one by one. And then everything was just... empty." His voice sounds weirdly squeaky, decidedly gnomish and Davenport hates it.

He’s the kind of man to enjoy his privacy every once in a while, and he's often wished for a bigger ship to get some distance, but these six months were incredibly hard. His family was gone. All of them.

The time before, with just Barry, wasn't the best either. They rarely talked. Barry would lock himself in his lab, trying to locate the light, and Davenport would sit down with one of Lucretia's journals.

But at least Barry was there. After he died, Davenport was on his own. In an empty ship, left with his thoughts and worries. No one to talk to, no one to be strong for. He can’t even remember how many breakdowns he’s had during that time. If they didn’t reset every time he would be much skinnier now, too. Sickly looking from the lack of sleep.

Davenport leans back against Merle. Sighs. "I'm still angry with you. Just... hold me a little while longer."

Merle... does that.

[fucknofortunato]

Journey of the Mimic

Prompt:  After returning from a quest, an adventuring party can’t find their beloved mascot: a pet mimic named Chomper.

“What’s a mimic?” asked Charlie, the newest addition to the fateful band of adventurers.

She was a cleric and had decided to join up with this band of a fighter, barbarian, and mage when they came to the rescue of her city from an evil sorcerer.

“It’s a little hard to explain,” spoke the fighter known as Theobes.

Theobes turned his head to the half-orc barbarian, Grognock.

“Mimic is creature that change to objects. It look like chest, but full of teeth and a tongue.”

“Yeah, that’s good description,” spoke Annabelle, “Now where the hell did it get off to?”

The four adventurers were returning to their base, a small fort in the middle of some hill lands, and were now actively searching the place for a treasure chest that drags itself across the floor. After combing through their entire base, they finally concluded that the mimic was gone.

“I found these keys on the seat,” spoke Charlie.

“Oh great, the door was left open and the keys were left out,” Annabelle said angrily.

“Well, let’s just be glad only our mimic is gone?” asked Theobes, trying to hide his guilt.

“Alright, this could be a horrible situation and we’ve gotta fix it,” spoke Annabelle.

“Why’s that, boss?” asked Grognock.

“We’re just outside the city of Hillgrand, Grognock.” “They think we’re heroes,” spoke Theobes.

“They don’t know mimic from us.” “That’s a good point!” Theobes said excitedly. “Then we can immediately forgive whoever left the base door opened and unlocked!”

Charlie and Annabelle exchanged looks of disbelief before reaffirming they were going to find this mimic before it wreaked havoc on the city. As they got ready to leave, Charlie noticed a pool of blood seeping from beneath a closet door.

“Uh… guys?” she asked.

Grognock stomped over to the closet and put his hand around the doorknob. Charlie could swear she saw a sadistic smile on his face as he ripped the door open, destroying the doorframe. Inside there was a large wooden chest, blood dripping from the closed lid. It opened up to reveal a set of teeth and let out a small bark.

“Chomper is home!” declared Grognock as he pet the mimic.

“Thank goodness that’s resolved!” Theobes said, miming the act of wiping sweat away from his forehead. “Time for a deserved rest.” “Alright, crisis averted. I wonder how he ended up in the closet though.” “Maybe he chase rat.”

SOME TIME EARLIER

The sounds of a lock being undone clicked through the silent hall.

“Presto,” a voice declared.

Five unruly men and a large half-orc woman entered the base: a band of rogues. Chomper sat in the corner, absolutely still and assuming the usual shape of a treasure chest. Anticipation almost made him quiver as he watched his would-be meals wander through the base.

“Damn, look at that, Gabryell!” said a short man with tan skin and equipped with several swords.

Gabryell, a tiefling with red skin and a pair of short horns that poked out from under his hair, looked over at the large chest. “Wow, these morons just leave their valuables out for us. They’re just asking us to rob them, aren’t they, Saffron Double-Threat?”

They gave a surly chuckle and started walking over to the chest. They stopped short as another man ran in front of them.

“Guys, wait! What if they’ve got dogs here?” asked Demontooth.

He was a dependable fighter and great for their operations, but had the unfortunate downfall of suffering from a phobia of dogs. “Well I don’t smell any,” replied Gabryell with a sneer.

“You can’t smell anything at all!” declared Hantrus.

“Then I guess there’s nothing here!” joked Saffron.

Everyone but Demontooth roared with laughter. Hantrus lugged up some chains and set them on the ground. Looking at the feet of who he spoke to, he declared their next actions.

“Let’s be quick. Demontooth, chain up the chest. Double, let’s search for any guards. People or dogs. Gabryell, help him Demontooth with the chest.”

“Uhm, my eyes are up here,” declared Saffron. “Double-Threat,” spoke Arii Squawk, “Don’t give yourself to the reaper too soon. I need you still.”

The four of them stood at attention while the boss walked over to a chair and sat down. The fifth man trailed right behind her. “What do you require, mistress?” asked Wartdragon.

“Fill the wagon for the boys while I make myself at home.” “Right away, mistress.”

Chomper got ready to attack as Demontooth timidly approached the chest, watching for dogs. Unfortunately, he was faster and threw the chains on the mimic. It stunned Chomper and in his daze, he was chained up. He tried to morph away but there was magic on the chains, something to help move chests that had been magically sealed or locked. It also had the side effect of preventing Chomper’s shapeshifting.

As Chomper was carried out by Demontooth and Gabryell, he saw the rest of the rogues looking through the base. Set on the back of a carriage amongst other wares, Chomper could do nothing but wait. Chomper wasn’t intelligent enough to formulate big plans, but he understood that the base was his home and he didn’t like being taken away. That was also the home of his friends and he hoped the three of them would return soon. Unfortunately, they had recently set out and were in the middle of trying to survive the dungeon of a mad sorcerer.

About half a day later, the wagon was being parked back at the rogues’ base of operations. “Why does Wart get to stay behind with the boss?” complained Gabryell as he unloaded the cart. “You ever notice he’s missing an ear and fingers?” asked Hantrus.

“Yeah. Clumsy guy shouldn’t have blades, right?”

Saffron laughed before answering for Hantrus, “Dude’s got a gambling problem, idiot.” “So?” “So, he owes his life to the boss. He used to be a noble or some crap before he got himself into so much trouble. Now he’s been trained to be her living weapon.”

“Oh,” Gabryell said as he began moving the unloaded stuff inside.

Demontooth grabbed the chest and began dragging it in. “Where do you want this, Hantrus?” he asked, looking directly at the man. Hantrus, avoiding eye contact, turned his head towards Demontooth and pointed to a corner. “I’ll start cracking it open while you guys lay out the loot.”

It took some time for Hantrus to gather his thieves’ tools and return to the room with the chest. As he approached, suddenly Saffron called out. With a sigh, Hantrus set down his tools and went across the hall to their room. Chomper could faintly hear them conversing.

“Wow, that is an interesting relic. Demontooth, you’ll have to use your connections to find a fence to get a price on this. I’ll check it for anything special, just grab it when you’re done in here.” “How come Demontooth always gets to do this stuff?” asked Saffron. “Cause I grew up in an underground city, idiot,” retorted Demontooth. “Ah. Well I came from the desert and we did tons of trading there. My dad can tell us where to fence it.” “Fine! Both of you do it,” Hantrus said with a huff.

Returning to the room, Hantrus set the strange statue in the corner of the room. Gabryell shut the door to the loot room with a slam, yelling something about Saffron’s dad. Finally, Hantrus picked up his tools and began to remove the chains from the chest.

Suddenly, the chest had two eyes that stared directly into Hantrus’ eyes. Hantrus froze with fear and anger as there was nothing more in this world he hated than eye contact. “FOUL DEMON!” he cried and lunged forward to stab it with a lock pick.

Chomper’s mouth opened wide and Hantrus tried to scream with terror as he fell into the mouth. Nothing would be heard as Chomper’s large tentacle-like tongue wrapped around his head to silence him and pull him in. Chomper’s eyes turned to the statue. He used his tongue to grab it and fling it at the front door. Through sheer luck, he hit the door directly on the doorknob and in a critical spot, causing the door to break and swing open. The statue rolled away under the cart.

Gabryell threw open the loot door and ran into the room.

“The chest is gone!” he called.

Demontooth and Saffron came running out and looked around.

“Do you think Hantrus stole it?” asked Demontooth. “Impossible,” replied Saffron. “Clearly he took it to some fence, the lock must have been too hard. Look, he even kicked the statue over.” Saffron pointed to the relic that was laying on its side, near where the chest had been moments ago.

“Well, let’s go take care of that then.”

Saffron and Demontooth hopped in the wagon while Gabryell began walking over to a stable to grab a horse.

“Where are you going?” asked Demontooth. “I’ve gotta report to the boss.” “Just ride with us, we’ll go there after getting rid of this statue.” “Fine,I guess.”

The three of them began to ride into town. A few moments later, Saffron brought them to a stop.

“My dad says there’s an old trader here.” “Good lord,” Gabryell began. “He’s real, dammit!” shouted Saffron. “I’m the Double-Threat because my ghost dad is haunting me!” Demontooth just sat quietly and stared forward, hoping this wouldn’t take long.

“Fine, go follow Ghost Dad. Hope you don’t get killed in a back alley.” Saffron took the statue and walked off into the back alley. There was the sound of a scuffle and a scream. Demontooth and Gabryell looked at each other for a minute. “Dad, what do you mean you hated me? Oh god, no!” Demontooth jumped out of the carriage and ran down the alley. There was blood strewn about, a bloody knife, and the statue sitting on the ground. “Oh no,” Demontooth said as he looked around. “I think he really did get jumped and killed.” Gabryell pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and stayed out of the alley. He fumed for a moment and then told Demontooth to just grab the statue and get out of here. When Gabryell went back for the statue, it was now the shape of a dog. He yelped and fell over. Frozen with fear, he quickly tried to draw his sword. It was already too late as Chomper’s tongue wrapped around his leg.

Gabryell ran down the alley upon hearing the screaming again and saw almost exactly what Demontooth saw the first time.

“I’ll kill you guys for this,” he called out as he grabbed the statue and ran. “Damn it...  I gotta go back to the boss!”

Less than half a day later, they returned to the base. Gabryell picked up the statue and proceeded to go inside. As soon as he stepped in, Wart lunged out at him with a dagger. Instinctively, Gabryell backhanded him and kicked him aside.

“Oh. My bad, man.” “No… It’s okay,” Wart replied as he got up.

The boss came walking out from down the hall, swinging around a ring of keys.

“Looks like we should just upgrade by moving all our stuff to here,” she told Gabryell. “Where’s the other three?”

“Hantrus ran off with that chest,” he said slowly, judging Arii’s face as he talked, “Saffron’s Ghost-Dad got him and Demontooth kidnapped by some thugs while trying to pawn this stupid statue.”

“We’ll find them and make them pay,” Arii responded. “Hantrus will return with an opened chest, for sure.” “Where should I put this statue?” asked Gabryell. “Well, it’ll look out of place if they walk in and see it. I want to take them by surprise. Set it in the kitchen.”

“Yes, m’am.”

As Gabryell stepped into the kitchen, the statue had a tongue reach out and spill cooking oil. Unable to smell it, Gabryell walked right into it and slipped, falling on the stone flooring and cracking his skull. His scream of pain rang out and through the base.

Wart poked his head in to see the statue had taken the form of the chest again and was eating Gabryell. He screamed and ran.

“Arii! It’s a mimic!”

“Damn it all! We’ve got to kill it. It won’t fight us if we stick together.”

Wart nodded and ran besides her. She equipped her crossbow and they walked towards the kitchen. As they walked in, they simply saw blood and oil on the floor. They looked around as they investigated the kitchen, trying to spot anything out of place.

Suddenly, a chest with large spider-like legs fell from the ceiling onto Wart, knocking him to the floor. Arii pointed her crossbow at it and it skittered back into the main entrance room. Lifting Wart back to his feet, Arii chased behind it. They both entered the room but Arii immediately noticed the extra chair by the closet.

“Damn it,” she bluffed, “It must have gotten away. I’m going to hang my crossbow in the closet. Wart, grab a seat.”

“You want me to sit and relax, mistress?” he asked.

“Yes,” she growled. “But not in my seat.”

Wart began to walk towards the mimic and then he realized what he she meant. As she opened the closet door and turned her back, the mimic lunged at Wart. Quickly, he dodged out of the way as it stumbled across the floor, the legs skittering out from underneath it again. Arii whipped around and tried to shoot it, but it used its tongue to grab her arm and shake the crossbow away. Using her orcish strength, she pulled the creature and slammed it into the closet. Before she could free her arm, it bit off her hand. Ignoring the pain, she yanked her arm free of the monster and slammed the door. Using the keyring, she then locked the closet.

“Stupid monster!” she said cradling her wound.

Wart walked up to her and ripped off his shirt for bandaging. They wrapped up her arm and she handed him the crossbow. “Watch the closet. I’m going to get some medicine. Wait here, Wart.”

As she walked away from the base, an arrow thunked into her back. She turned back, more angry than surprised.

“My name is Elandrial Thorntree.”

He shot her several times and she collapsed in the doorway. Slowly unlocking the door and cracking it open, Elandrial saw nothing inside. The mimic was hiding. He quickly shoved Arii into the doorway and felt something pull her inside. Then he immediately shut and locked the door again. Throwing the keys on the seat, he then turned and left. As he walked down the road, he saw a band of adventurers returning home.

[braindamageforbeginners]

Week 1, Day 1, Treatment 1

I’m back home, after a day at the hospital. If things continue at the current rate, well, I’ll probably be dead in the near-future (median life-expectancy of GBM patients is 14 months), but at least I’ll make a dent in the reading list.

I began my day with a potentially dangerous, experimental drug. I’m going to focus on the positive and think that this is a step closer to being Hunter S. Thompson, and try to forget the fact that the nurse had to put on protective laboratory gear before handling something that she then injected into my veins. Also, because I’d been warned about keeping super-hydrated throughout this process (and because I have hard-to-find veins), I’d been chugging Gatorade since I rolled out of bed, so hooking me up to an IV  to hydrate me was just gilding the lily. Or over-filling the water balloon, to be more accurate. Anyway, apart from spending a disturbing amount of time, uh, let’s say, “discarding” all that excess fluid, there aren’t too many side-effects worth reporting (we’ll get to that shortly). Admittedly, spending about ten minutes peeing after 18 hours being pumped full of an unknown substance is disturbing, but if that’s the worst I suffer today, I’ll count it as a victory. However, the day is not over, and I have not taken my bed-time chemo drugs, and, as Herodotus wrote, “Judge no man fortunate until he is dead.”

However, as far as side-effects, I’m not too worried about vomiting any more. The nameless anti-nausea drug is amazingly effective; like, I could easily see myself becoming addicted to this stuff. Not because there’s any sort of fun, psychedelic effect, but because I hate puking, and this medication is so effective that I think I could wolf down a rotting raccoon carcass without any side effects (other than contracting rabies, I mean). Obviously, I’ll be putting that to the test over the coming weeks, but life would seem to have improved significantly in that regard (and, I’ve been told the chemo side-effects should be further lessened if I continue my extreme hydration-regimen).

I am, however, experiencing some side-effects; I feel bad, but not horrible. Specifically, my muscles feel sore and cramp-y, which, while unpleasant, isn’t the worst I was fearing. And, according my mad scientist oncologist (specifically, my Southern California Mad Scientist Oncologist), side-effects are indicative that the miracle drug is working well. And, based on how my muscles feel, it’s working. The major complaint, apart from lethargy, is, I shit you not, hallucinations. So, I plan to spend tomorrow lying on the couch, being tormented by my subconscious. This is different from normal because now there will be a visual component, and I’ll have a note from my doctor (also, I’ll eventually have to pry myself off the couch and get irradiated). Also, the worstest side-effects aren’t predicted to show up until week 2 or week 3; bad news is, they don’t think I’ll start recovering until week 10. Worse news - much, much worse news - is, after the six-ish weeks of radiation (for those of you keeping count, I have 30 radiation appointments, but since they don’t work on weekends, that works out to six weeks; and chemo every single day throughout), assuming that’s successful, I’ll get on a chemotherapy rotation, which means I’ll get three weeks off, and one week of chemo, for a whole year. FOR. ONE. WHOLE. YEAR. Which means, at my current life expectancy, I’ll be on some sort of unpleasant drugs for the rest of my life. Still, as I’m very aware, the phrase, “we’re extending treatment” is vastly preferable to the phrase, “we’re stopping treatment because it’s not working.” Also, if I do lose any hair, the clinicians think it’ll be in a very small, specific spot. Still, adding even another unpleasant side-effect seems excessively cruel.

And, I got some very reassuring signs today regarding my physicians. I never had any reason to doubt their competence, but, I have survived three tumors (so far) for fifteen years (the breakdown is; I got tumor #1 removed fifteen years ago, since then, I’ve had two more tumors), but it’s always good to have that confidence affirmed. Before I get there, a brief restatement to all future cancer patients (and humans in general); I’ve said it before, the crucial difference between a fatal disease and a dangerous disease is your medical team. Do not screw around with this, your life will depend upon it; do some research (Yelp does not count), and go straight to the best (the actual best, not the “Trump Steak” best). We now continue with the anecdote currently in progress.

During one of my many, many administrative/clerical intake interviews/vital signs monitoring sessions, an aide asked who my oncologists were, and I said, “Drs. X and Y,” and she, “Oh, they’re the best.” Now, it’s always possible - especially since we have a commander-in-chief who is hell-bent on destroying superlatives - that she was exaggerating, or just saying it because they bought her coffee or something, but, I know from fifteen years on the receiving end of modern medicine, that the nurses and administrative staff are usually where the buck stops, and they know a lot more than they let on, so their endorsements are usually reliable. Also, immediately prior to my serum injection, I was visited by Research Coordinator (and, to preserve everyone’s anonymity, I’m going to be extremely vague), who assured me that they only test drugs that are extremely promising. Which seemed like a regurgitation of Bioethics 101, until he also admitted that my oncology team will occasionally accept money to test drugs they know won’t work, then weasel out of that commitment through various medicolegal means and just keep the money. That might be some sort of standard, cancer research hack, but it’s still brilliant. And, even if they weren’t acting within the bounds of the law, there’s not a jury that would ever convict them.

As far as the radiation treatment, it went mostly-fine. To dwell on the negative (or to forewarn all future brain cancer patients), the weird plastic-mask thing is the most disturbingly claustrophobic thing I’ve ever encountered. I thought it was freaked out about it when they were fitting me for it, and it felt like some sort of weird fetish. Now, it feels like being smothered. The good news is, if you can resist the impulse to panic, and just remember to breathe, it’s not too bad after the initial shock (hopefully, that’s applicable to all my experiences over the next year). So, if you have claustrophobia or a fear of being smothered (a greater-than-average fear of being smothered, let us say), I’d definitely recommend asking about sedation beforehand. Hell, I’d ask about sedation the minute you get a cancer diagnosis, but especially look into it if you have claustrophobia and you’re getting radiation treatment and/or MRIs.

Anyway...

WEIGHT: about 210 lb (95-ish kilos). There were some fluctuations throughout the day (I got weighed several times throughout the day) between 209 lb to 217 lb, but that’s explained by both the incredible amount of fluids I’ve consumed throughout the day and whether I remembered to remove my shoes. CONCENTRATION: Pretty good; I made some decent headway in the Wodehouse novel I’m reading, even while being pumped full of saline and super-soldier serum (which is really saying something, because I really needed to use the restroom during that whole process). MEMORY: Not bad. I’m still missing or forgetting occasional stuff, which is a little upsetting, but I can still quote pertinent studies I read a few years ago. APPETITE: Decreased, but I’m still eating. I’ve also been drinking way too much water and/or Gatorade, and I started the day with a large, bacon-egg sandwich (heart disease be damned), and all that would chip away at the appetite even before factoring stress and experimental drugs in. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Normal. Normal-ish. I’m feeling sluggish now, at 9 pm, after a long day spent in waiting rooms, so it’s not like I turned down the opportunity to go jogging because I was feeling poorly (spoilers: I only ever run when being chased, or when I’m late for a plane). SLEEP QUALITY: Pretty good, for me. I got eight-ish hours of sleep last night, which is great for someone about to start cancer treatments, but I still have a big sleep debt. COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Not bad, but I’m very slightly wobbly when finishing tasks/movements that require coordination. Starting them and the middle, I’m fine with, for some reason. PHYSICAL: Very much the same as yesterday, which is good. No new headaches or body-based symptoms, and the eternal suture-headache is quite tolerable. SIDE EFFECTS: The muscles in my upper body hurt. A lot. But it’s no worse than if I’d gone to the gym with someone named “Biff,” so I suppose I shouldn’t gripe too much, but it still hurts. And I can’t take aspirin, because I’m already at risk for bleeding thanks to the damned chemo drugs (I guess that’s my pain level - “Needs aspirin and will complain bitterly if deprived, but will survive without”). I’m peeing a lot - an awful lot - but I’m also keeping extremely hydrated, so I’m not sure that’s a side-effect. I feel oddly alert - like I’ve had half an espresso - but my body isn’t moving fast enough to keep up with my mind. It might seem excessively negative to keep track like this, but I actually intend to take careful notes in this area and send them all to my researchers at the end of all this.