#[ ACT 2 ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸-𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 )

[bhaalswn-arch]

" i still can't make it make any sense "

I have lost the meme. ( I think the dark urge got to it first !! )

If the wizard of their party cannot make heads nor tails of it, then surely the sorcerer could help. ( ARCANA CHECK FAILED. ) It is something magical in nature; both assumed correctly. "Isn't it so painfully obvious? It's... something." And it was puzzling the both of them; sorcerer and wizard. It is however an aberration, the words unfamiliar. He held the amulet in his hand, peering at the unfamiliar etchings of the runes on the back. "Must be a spell, an incantation. Or a curse if spoken." He grabbed at the chain and dangled it in front of Gale: "You want to consume its magical potential? It's no good to us if we can't figure it out. Or would it be consumed magic poisoning if it's something wrong?"

[bhaalswn-arch]

Was it fine? Because it didn't seem like it: it seemed like the obvious cover-up. Pretend you're fine and breathe, that sort of thing. Something that anyone would do to hide their pain. ( But you want to see more of that pain. You want to drink every second of it. ) No. Stop it. He demands his own ruined mind to cease.

He hissed between his teeth, unable not to sympathize with the pain. Her guardian was already gone: concentration pierced like the arrow that had slammed into her shoulder. The skeletons were going to be more of a pain, and she was right: they need to find the source. Something, no, someone was bringing them back up. Or reanimating more up.

His lightning spell fizzles out, and Alkas opts for a different spell. "There must be someone who is doing this to fuck with us. Or an anchor, whatever it is." He grits his teeth. Annoyed. Frustrated. And secretly guilty for not watching his own back that Eira had to get hurt in the first place. "Or we could slowly back out of this. Draw it out; whoever it is. It sounds cowardly-ish. But we could therefore see who follows if they're so eager to keep on raising the fuckin' dead."

There was only so much one could do when nearly outnumbered by a horde of the undead. Eira had surrounded herself with radiant energy, watching as her own spirit guardians attempted to smite the skeletal warriors as they approached, felling them, only to watch in horror as they rose again, with little hint as to how to find the source of their reanimation. She often did well enough to hide her fear and clung to optimism whenever one of the enemy stayed down, but there was only so much a prayer could offer when her resources were very nearly expended.

Perhaps it had been that overwhelming sense of dread lingering at the back of her mind that made it difficult to put words together and warn @bhaalswn of the arrow nocked in his direction by the skeletal ranger. He'd been preoccupied with preparing his own spell to see it, and the enemy had been too quick for him to get out of the way in time. Eira did not even stop to consider an alternative as words failed and she fell into action. The arrow did not meet its target, but the pain that radiated from her shoulder was enough to encourage a cry of pain as the concentration on her spirit guardians broke, and the radiant energy fizzled away, dimming their surroundings.

❝ It's fine - it's fine, ❞ she gasped, feeling her legs give out as she fell to her knees on the aged and shattered stone at his feet, using the little bit of healing magic she had left to help some of the injury as she snapped the arrow three-quarters of the way with a pained grunt. She'd deal with the rest later. ❝ If we don't find the source for their reanimation and end it, we're as good as dead. ❞

― CONTINUED FROM 【 HERE 】

[bhaalswn-arch]

Bottoms up, Alkas thought to himself as he downed the second tankard of Gods Knows What. It was bitter and it burns the inside of his throat. This grotesque brewer was no joke. He eyed over at Beth. "You want a taste? I do not want to be the only one who drinks this."

starter call ( act 2 ) / @grimdarkfables

[bhaalswn-arch]

tag time :)

[ 01 ] ── * THREADS ( 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘥 ) [ 02 ] ── * VISAGE ( 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 ) [ 03 ] ── * MUSINGS ( 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 ) [ 04 ] ── * HEADCANON ( 𝘱𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴 ) [ 05 ] ── * STUDY ( 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 ) [ 06 ] ── * AESTHETIC ( 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘥 ) [ 07 ] ── * ANSWERED ( 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 ) [ 08 ] ── * DESIRES ( 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦 ; 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 ; 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 )

[ ACT 1 ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 & 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 ) [ ACT 2 ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸-𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 ) [ ACT 3 ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 )

[ BAD ENDING ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ; 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘥 ) [ FOR THE ABSOLUTE ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 ; 𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭'𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯 )

[bhaalswn-arch]

sender takes an injury meant for receiver

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! ( accepting !! )

Why can't the dead stay dead? Which was ironic because of how many times Alkas casted Speak with Dead to find out answers. Though they stay dead afterwards. So no big deal, right? But something was causing these bones to reanimate. Was it something in this land? The shadow curse? There were some strange things in this land. Unexplainable in ways that Alkas can fail to understand.

A skeleton ranger had aimed; their makeshift bow at the ready. It aims towards Alkas who was beginning to cast a lightning spell. The arrow soared but it couldn't hit Alkas. No. Someone had caught it instead. Eira. Lodged in the shoulder. The lightning spell was cast; energy pulsed through the air and electrified the skeleton ranger. "Shit, are you okay? Shit."

[bhaalswn-arch]

The caution was heard loud and clear. Death was imminent. It was inevitable but improbable depending on the stubbornness one acquires. But coming from a necromancer? To heed a warning like that should be taken seriously: "I may have my memory lose but I haven't lost any common sense, yet." Alkas had added, now looking around intently; golden-brown eyes searching for something, anything that'll be useful.

"How many times? Hm? Is there a permanent number? Or is it all just hypothesis?"

With every hour their little ragtag band draws closer to the source of this land's woes. Every path here seems to lead to a new unraveling of secrets long-buried and perhaps best left to the dead, but Iraestra has never believed in letting them rest for long. Only the living can gain from what the deceased hoard with them in their rotting crypts.

"I would urge caution. Death could be imminent," she warns. "Resurrection scrolls are only a paltry matter of gold, but there are only so many times a soul can be tethered to flesh once more before the connection begins to wane."

@bhaalswn

[bhaalswn-arch]

@princguard has given Alkas a bloodied kiss

( Your urge was blood was insatiable, and yet that rancid part of you felt oddly satisfied with what was now on your lips. Blood from an innocent. ) Alkas cleaned his mouth, using the back of his hand to do so. The blood got smudged, a faint hue of pink now spread across the corner of his mouth and cheek.

His attention was snapped over to Lark. Her mouth pressed to his. He closed his eyes, focused on the kiss rather than the horrors that he committed. It was sweet. But the blood was in his mouth - the metallic taste invading his taste buds. ( But some part of you enjoyed it nonetheless. The Dark Urge purred. ) Then Alkas leans back, pondering. "I guess that's a way to clean blood off someone's lips, though maybe not efficiently."

[bhaalswn-arch]

who said we were owed happiness ? what about what we owe others ?

darker vibes. ( accepting !! )

"And what do we owe others? Our undivided attention? I have two hands, and the urge to kill!" He puts his hands forward, fingers curling into his palm to heavily emphasize where he's getting at. Nails biting into his palms. Hard. But not enough to draw blood. But it certainly left crescent-shaped marks. "I do what I can. Is that not enough? I try to do my part. Happiness barely scratches the surface; I am doomed from the start, Halsin." He walks around, pacing back and forth.

"I... I do want to do more though. You have a say in this camp as the others do. What should we do?"

[bhaalswn-arch]

“Please tell me I don’t look as bad as I feel.” from astarion 💀

HURT / COMFORT : STARTERS. ( accepting !! )

Alkas tilts his head, golden-brown eyes searching across Astarion's appearance. Pale. Sanguine eyes. A hunger that is always present; sometimes further away after a recent feed. ( Perception Check Succeeded. ) Eyebrows furrowed. Alkas noticed something the pinched look. The way someone would hide pain. Suppressing it. Hiding it from plain view. Alkas' gaze dips down, searching. There it is. A wound. Was it possible for even vampires to get infections if they don't tend themselves? "You look like shit." Alkas responded, not bothering to hide the truth from Astarion. "Handsome, but still looking like shit."

"What in the hells did you do? Did this happen in the last battle?" Maybe the shadow curse was doing something. If Astarion was inflicted with it. Who knows.

[bhaalswn-arch]

when was the last time you slept?

MORE QUESTION PROMPTS. ( accepting !! )

That was a good question, and such a good question will be met with a fabricated story; spun and weave in white lies. Though, it may be clear that it was a lie with the shadows underneath his golden-brown eyes. He hums. Thoughtful about it. Then he answers with a shrug: "I'd say a day ago, or so? Why?" The reason why he hadn't been sleeping was using what time he still had to read and research on certain things. ( You wanted to know more about Bhaal; Lord of Murder. You think there's a connection, you're so sure of it now as it feels almost familiar. )

Though, maybe it was good for him not to sleep, because if he didn't sleep, it meant that he didn't have to dream.