#((but she has dreams of being a child and a tiefling man pulling her into his lap and singing in infernal))

[legendsofthewitchlight]

It wouldn't be accurate to anything, but since I have a half baked plan for Shepard's drow wife (who he meets and subsequently marries after the events of CoS; he loves her and she loves him, but its got that happy ending futility many gothic stories have) who is already a member of the Nightborne family, I kinda want to make my Lethica be Shepherd and Iolena's daughter. Technically, it'd make Lethica a little under 300, which honestly wouldn't surprise me.

The question is how do we get a full drow from a tiefling dad and a drow mom?

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Comforting

Octavia (tiefling!Agi) has a rough day and seeks comfort from everyone's favorite pale elf. SFW mostly.

Since becoming infected with the fucking tadpole, Octavia Harrow had many long days.

This day was no different, but it somehow was longer and more painful than most. She, Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach encountered Malus Thorme and his hospital of horrors with Shadowheart taking the lead speaking to him. Him. That monster. That fucking monster. Then after Thorme and the sisters were dead, they found Arabella’s poor parents.

It brought back too many terrible memories for Octavia. All she could think about was the illness and death of her mother. Octavia and her mother’s former employer Countess Luci Wildheart contacted numerous healers. These healers tried many treatments with zero success. She and the countess, along with Octavia’s oldest friend Nadia, sat with Sylvia Harrow as she drew her final breath.

And now I need to tell a child that her parents are dead.

She told Arabella, who predictably was inconsolable. Octavia had tried to give the child a hug but was pushed away. Her heart broke. Again.

Octavia returned to her tent, closed the flaps, and as quietly as she could, began to weep. I’m sorry I couldn’t save that poor man being experimented on. I’m sorry I couldn’t save Arabella’s parents. I’m sorry I can’t comfort Arabella the way she needs. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop that piece of shit hurting Astarion. Her mind drifted to the small tidbits she learned from her conservations with him. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Oh gods, Mum…I need you. I miss you.

“Octavia?”

She sniffled and wiped her aquamarine eyes. Astarion. “One moment!” She called out, trying desperately to not look like she had been crying. He needs me to be strong. I need to protect him. I need to help him. He deserves so much more than I could ever— “Okay, I’m decent.” She said, hoping her eyes were not too red and puffy.

The flaps opened, and Astarion sauntered in. Whatever witty thing was he was going to say died on his lips once he saw her. “Rough day, darling?”

Is it that obvious?!?!? Octavia nodded. She sat in a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her tail swaying behind her. Astarion grabbed the other chair and dragged it next to hers. The two sat in silence for a few moments before Astarion did something Octavia did not expect.

He took both her hands in his and squeezed him. “Whatever you need, my sweet.” He offered her a small smile. Not a fake one that he flashes so easily. This is real. He’s real.

Shutting her eyes, she felt hot tears on her face again. “Just a really bad day, love. I’ll be okay.” He needs me to be strong. I need to protect him. I need to…I need to… A broken sob escaped her, her hands now trying to cover her face. “Gods, I’m so sorry! You should go have fun with the others.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “If I wanted to go drink piss and hear about Gale breaking up a barfight one more time, I will, quite literally, kill myself. Besides,” he pulled her into a hug, which he was doing more frequently since their talk after dealing with that weird bloody Drow. “I’d rather be here with you, sweetness.”

She stopped sobbing and wiped her eyes. Again. Fucking hells, I’m a mess. “C-could you…rub my horns?”

He blinked. “Pardon me?”

Fuck. Octavia shook her head. “Nevermind. It’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if that’s what you want, my love.” He said more gently than she expected.

Finally meeting his gaze, she smiled ruefully. “Mum used to do that when I had bad dreams or was sad. She said it was something loved ones do for comfort.”

He looks genuinely shocked. Oh love, you are such a comfort to me. He nodded wordlessly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d never—”

“I know.” He said quietly, that small smile that was reserved only for her present on his lips. “But I want to. How do I…?” He gestured a little towards her horns.

Wrinkling her nose and giggling, Octavia’s head tilted towards her bedroll. “Might be easier if we lie down.”

Astarion shook his head. “No no, that won’t do. Your head in my lap, darling.” He got up and sat on her bedroll, his legs out in front of him. Patting his thighs, he smirked. “Come on now, my sweet treat.”

Octavia could not help but roll her eyes at the pet name. “Sweet treat?” She teased, making sure her horns did not hit Astarion as she laid down.

“Because you’re sweet and my favorite treat. See, makes perfect sense!” He stared down at her with a smirk, his hands meeting her horns. Slowly, he began rubbing her black horns. Just like Mum used to. It always felt so good. Could melt into a puddle… “How am I doing?” He asked gently, a small smile on his lips.

She smiled at him. “Amazing, love. You could use your nails too a bit if you want.”

“Oh really? A little nail it is, darling.”

As his nails scratched her horns, Octavia bit back a moan. Oh. My. Gods. This is not like how Mum used to do this. “Erm, maybe no nails.” She muttered, hoping Astarion did not notice me stopping a moan that I’m sure I’m made when we fucked in the woods.

He laughed heartily and resumed rubbing. “What’s the matter, my dear? Got a little too excited? Why, I’m shocked you didn’t come right then and there!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. She tried to sit up, hoping the ground would swallow her whole, but Astarion put on a hand on her shoulder. “Please, I—”

The pressure on her shoulder was firm, and he flashed his fangs. “I’m only teasing. Relax, my sweet. Relax.” He resumed rubbing her horns and hummed softly.

“I just…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, love. I know we’re still not doing any of that, and I…I…” I don’t want me being unexpectedly horny ruin our relationship. He needs to heal. He deserves better. He deserves—

“Let me make something very clear to you, Octavia,” he stopped what was doing and stared down at her, his red eyes full of emotion. “You have never, ever made me uncomfortable. You’ve been nothing but patient with all this. So put whatever horrid, putrid thoughts you have swirling about in the trash.”

Tears pricked her eyes as a hand grazed his pale arm. “I love you.” She whispered. “I just want you to be comfortable and happy.”

“And in this moment, I am.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb touching the corner of her mouth. “So please, let me get back to it, darling. After all, these horns won’t rub themselves!” His expression was light again, humming as he rubbed. “Speaking of Gale, I heard some juicy gossip while you were gone…”

When it came time to go to sleep, Octavia was shocked that Astarion not only offered to stay in her tent (we’ve only ever been in his) but also insisted on holding her as she slept. I told him he didn’t have to. He said he wanted to.

Then he put his hands on his hips and sighed dramatically. “You’re such a stubborn thing, my sweet treat. Do you want this? Because I know you. You want this, but you’re trying to be the selfless hero and put me first!” He smirked at her. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I love you. Octavia fidgeted, a small smile tugging the corners of her mouth. “You’re one hundred percent right.”

“THERE! Was that so hard? Now be a dear and lie down.��� It’s always so sweet when he fusses over me. I still don’t think I’m worth it, but if he thinks so, then I guess…I am. He spooned her from behind, his arm snacked around her thick waist. “See, isn’t this lovely? I think you’re going to sleep so well tonight, darling, and if you don’t, well…at least this is nice.”

Sleep slowly claiming her, Octavia stifled a yawn. “I’d be open to more nights like this, if that’s something you’re comfortable with, Astarion.” She giggled. “The cuddling I mean, not my embarrassment from earlier.”

He gave her soft middle a squeeze, chuckling softly. “Ah, but you’re positively adorable when you’re like that, my sweet.” Astarion nuzzled her shoulder. “Take your rest, and fear not, I shall be here when you wake.”

Just as she drifted off to sleep, she heard him whisper, “I love you. Have the sweetest dreams for me, my dear.”

[conceptstage]

Trickster’s Gambit

{CHAPTER ONE}

AO3

Coming to Nicodranous may have been the best decision she’d ever made. Second best, perhaps. Spending the last of her money on this meat pie filled with bits of bacon was currently making a very convincing argument to be number one.

Beau leaned back against the metal railing as she ate, pausing to suck some of the sauce off her thumb before it could roll down her arm, shivering slightly when a cold breeze wafted off the sea behind her and sent a chill up her bare arms. She looked back at the ocean as a wave crashed against the stone behind her and just watched the moon ripple in the reflection on the crystal blue water. She’d never seen the ocean until this morning and now she wasn’t sure she could ever go a day without being able to look at it. She spent a moment, as she finished the first bit of warm, cooked food that she’d had in almost three days, daydreaming about a little house on the oceanfront, waking up to do her morning exercises on the warm sand, a beautiful woman standing with her feet in the water and a silk nightgown whipping around her from the breeze and looking at Beau with so much love that-

Something smacked Beau hard in the chest. Normally she was more alert than this, more agile, more careful, but she had been distracted by the warm food in her stomach, the calming hum of the waves beating up against the stone wall, and the thoughts about what exactly she wanted that fantasy lady to do to fantasy Beau later tonight to see it coming. She nearly fell backwards over the railing but grabbed the metal tightly to keep herself on her feet. She looked down at her chest where she’d been hit and found an unripe tomato, wet and mushy and running down the front of her Cobalt robes.

She looked around quickly and only saw three other people in her vicinity. A young couple (a half orc and a half elf walking arm in arm, too wrapped up in one another to see what was going on with her a few away) and an older human woman with arms full of grocery bags who looked just as shocked as Beau felt. The older woman turned away from Beau and looked down a nearby alleyway. “How rude, young man!” she shouted at someone Beau couldn’t see. 

Beau took off down the alley, pausing at the end just in time to see a green cloak disappear around the right corner. “Hey!”

Beau dashed down the alleyway, confident that she could catch him. She was the fastest initiate in training, it was basically impossible to escape her on foot. She flew around the corner and screeched to a stop.

The tomato thrower was standing right around the corner, waiting for her, and she stumbled and nearly fell or crashed into him but managed to catch herself in time.

He was tall, taller than the average human, maybe an elf then. She couldn’t make out any features except for a few stands of red hair that fell out from his hood but his entire face was in shadow. The light from the street lamps glinted against his teeth as he grinned and reached out, wearing a purple cloth glove that covered his arm up to his elbow. In her shock and confusion Beau could only stand there, still as the dead, when he ‘boop’ed her on the nose.

Sneering, she reached up to smack his hand away but all she met was thin air. She hadn’t even blinked but he was gone, faded into the ether or swept away in the night air. “What the fuck?!” she exclaimed.

Beau blinked and looked around quickly. She’d come out the other end of the alley on a dim lit cobbled street, shadowed slightly from the tall, five story building at the end of the road that blocked out the moon from view. It was empty except for some quiet murmuring from inside the houses that lined the sides and the clatter of plates as the families inside sat down around their tables for dinner.

Beau refused to let down her guard, keeping her shoulders tense and her eyes flitting around for danger as she stepped quietly down the route. She looked down the alleyways but there was no sign of the prankster who had attacked her. 

She jumped at the sudden sound of laughter and followed the sound up to a window on the top floor of the tall building she’d found herself in front of. She thought at first that the laughter had been directed at her but then quickly realized that it was unrelated to what had just happened. She looked up at the open window and could see flickering fire light from inside. Just before she was about to look away and continue her search for the man in the green cloak, a shape passed in front of the window and she felt her heart stop. A young woman, probably slightly younger than she was, came to stand at the glass and looked out at the sea over the roofs across the street. She didn’t seem to notice Beau in the dark street below and Beau didn’t mean to stare but she was suddenly certain that she’d just caught sight of the most beautiful woman in the world.

She was a blue skinned tiefling with cropped blue hair that was pinned up in curls and dark horns that curled around her pointed ears. She was in a peach nightgown with lace and frills and there seemed to be dried paint dotted up her muscular arms. She was smiling and Beau could tell that she was speaking to someone else in the room but her words were just a low hum that she couldn’t make out.

Beau hadn’t meant to stare and suddenly felt creepy. She was about to turn and leave, give up on finding the man in the green cloak and focus instead on finding a safe place to sleep, but the blue girl moved away from the window and was quickly replaced by a man in a green cloak.

Beau’s eyes widened and the man looked down at her and waved briefly before pulling the window closed. “That motherfucker!” she hissed. She looked around quickly for an entrance to the building and saw some light around the corner, which she followed, still grumbling quietly to herself.

She street that she stepped out to was busier than than the other areas she’d been in the city. A dozen people of varying races and ages were strolling down the street, pausing to glance inside the open door of the building at her side but ultimately continuing on their way. A cart rumbled by and the diver, a middle aged gnome woman, nodded at her in a tired, half-hearted greeting. She couldn’t see the ocean from this street but she could hear the screeching of birds and the slow roll of the tide so she couldn’t have wandered too far from it.

There was light and music drifting out of the open doorway and as she moved closer she saw a tall minotaur standing beside it, a bouncer probably. As she walked forward, she suddenly heard a sultry voice start to drift out of the door, flowing like honey over the cobbles and into the street. A young man that had been walking by froze and looked inside the door, transfixed on the sound, until another man bumped into him from behind and shoved him forward.

“Don’t stop in the road, child,” the other man said in a deep, rumbling voice. “Have you never heard the Ruby sing before?” He huffed. “Tourists.”

Beau frowned. The Ruby? Who was the Ruby? She started towards the front door, and couldn’t even get a glance inside before the Minatuar’s large, furry hand clamped down on her shoulder.

He breathed heavily out through his nose. “2 silver cover,” he said gruffly. 

Beau only had a single copper, not even two of them to rub together. “Yeah, I’m not here for the show, man,” she said, picking up his hand by a single finger and removing it from her person. 

He looked her up and down and frowned. “I highly doubt that you are here to stay the night.”

“Rude,” she said, but she didn’t argue with his assessment. “There’s a man here that I’m looking for.” She gestured to the tomato that was swiftly drying on her clothes. “I was down the street and he threw this at me and I followed him here. He’s inside, I saw him in one of the upstairs windows.I just want to talk to him, promise.” She did not want to just talk to him but she doubted that ‘I just want to beat his ass to a bloody pulp’ would manage to get her in the door. “I’ll be in and out in five minutes.”

The minotaur seemed to believe her but didn’t relax. “What did he look like?”

“Tall guy, green cloak, that’s all I saw.”

“No one like that here,” he grunted. “Get lost.”

Beau sneered. “Hey! I know he’s here, I fucking saw him in that fucking window!” she pointed to the side of the building.

“There’s only one entrance and no one in a green cloak has passed me.” He grabbed her by her shirt and tossed her back. She nearly crashed down onto the street but caught herself and managed to remain on her feet.

“Hey!”

“Go away before I call the Zolezzo.”

Beau growled under her breath but looked around to find everyone in the street staring right at her, including a man in crownsguard armor who had a hand on his sword. Beau rolled her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Fine! For fuck’s sake, someone assaults me and I get hassled by guards? Typical.” The minotaur took a step towards her and she shrugged and turned to walk away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” She started back the way she’d come, around the side of the building to the dark, empty street. She looked up at the window where she’d seen the man in the green cloak and the room was dark.

Beau sighed and turned away, sneering down at her dirty shirt and wondering if she’d be able to wash it off in the ocean tonight without getting hassled.

When she slept that night, laying down in the sand with her back against the stone wall and her rucksack held tightly in her arms, the woman in her dream, standing in a nightgown with her feet in the water, had blue skin and dark horns.

[shadowdianne]

Candor

In another less dark news here I present a small ficlet I wrote for my roommate's (yes, the one and only) dnd character. We are playing in the Tal'Dorei setting and she created the most delightful background to work with.

Since I can't draw for my life but I adored the possibility of writing I asked to be left with my own devices and she, despite fearing I was going to write angst, let me do it. She also has given me the permission to repost this here.

M, just a clue, a small one, of which is your account, pretty please xD

Candor

The sound of the nearby chapel’s bells wasn’t strong enough to drown the noise of those chatting while walking between the haphazardly-looking stalls but Freya focused on it as she rolled her shoulders onto the cape she had been wearing non-stop ever since she had walked into Whitestone.

She missed the ability to wear her hair down, the lack of chaffing on her slightly pointed ears or the uneven feel of paint onto her cheeks, the symbols made out of carefully bought paint an important part of her morning routing she had needed to cut off in order to not stand out among the majorly human crowd of the town. Biting on her bottom lip, the half-elf stepped away from two women, their gaunt faces not dissimilar to the ones she had already gotten used to see among the cobble-covered streets of the northern place. Chill air gripping her throat, puffs of air floating through the air as the chatting won against the dying toll of the bells, she hummed as she kept on walking, throwing glances to the product present in some of the stalls.

The effects the battle against the Chroma Conclave were still visible in many parts of Tal���Dorei; the lack of what had been common commodities once upon a time the most jarring difference as well as the slowly rebuilding cities but the lack of light on the ones around her, the way children played close to their parents, not really willing to move too far from them, made her feel the same weariness that had called upon her the first time she had heard the news about how the former Lord of Whitestone had, apparently, returned to his rightful place.

De Rolo. The title and surname had meant something for her once upon a time and as she rolled the name once more against her tongue, feeling the soft tap of its tip against her velum, she glanced beyond the stalls that circled Pelor’s tree, the golden shimmer of its bark, its leaves, paling against the white beauty of the castle from which every part of the city -from its slums to its richest neighborhoods- could be seen.

She had arrived a few days ago, not entirely sure what was what she expected as her usual playful demeanor changed to one she had very rarely used ever since she had fled from the continent that waited beyond the Shearing Channel; the scent and taste of salt from the sea that awaited to those stupid enough to transverse it strong and powerful against her nose. She had thought she had forgotten it; the way her spine would protest as she hold herself to the top of her height, the way her mannerisms would transform from practical to elegant, the slowness of them ricocheting against her bones in the same way she had very quickly gotten bored on her lessons back when she had been younger. Sadly, however, it seemed like the ways of someone from the highest parts of society were never truly erased: no matter how much one tried to.

“Are you going to buy something or are you going to keep on staring?”

The question, made in a thick Tal’Dorei-an accent woke her up from her reverie, thoughts of long-forgotten mornings spent under the watchful eye of her tutors gone in a cloud of smoke as she blinked back to the present; to the forever warm roads that run through the city as blood and ichor alike. Tilting her head while grasping the ends of her cape so it didn’t flare up with her free hand, she grasped the middle of her staff with the other, the magic from the wind that played with the forever autumnal leaves of The Dawnfather’s tree swirling by and towards her, feeding her own power.

“I was just looking.” She smiled, knowing that her mouth and nose were clearly visible to those with human eyesight and regaling herself with the vision of the slightly elderly woman who puffed for a moment towards her before she returned back to the meagre metallic plates she offered -ideal for those who couldn’t afford a full set of armor! -. Staring as the pale complexion of the woman turned red from the exhaustion one must always took whenever they dealt with difficult customers, Freya walked past the kiosk before stopping by in a smaller one, bags of grain and spice laying around and against the cracking wooden planks that seemed almost strange within a city that prided itself from the rock and mountains that named it.

The merchant there was definitely more affable, younger and must had some genasi ancestry on his blood; the runes and symbols on his arms and the slightly strange shade on his skin not enough to suggest Tiefling or Drow. Feeling less exposed, Freya watched as the man smiled to a couple of young human girls that, blushing, paid for what must had been something under their mother’s request before it was her turn. The scent of slightly musky grain felt stronger as soon as her booted feet moved forward, the rustle of her cape making the man look up from the coins deposited on his hand. Nodding towards her, eyes going to the hood that protected her skin and eyes from being watched, the man pointed at what he sold.

“Everything is from the farmlands attached to the city, I wouldn’t suggest the wheat though; little bit too weak this time of the year.” His accent wasn’t as thick and it suggested some time spent learning the basics back at Emon or any other bigger city and Freya, almost out of habit, glanced down towards his hands, calloused but nimble. Smiling herself, she let her mind wander back momentarily to when she had been young enough to not be subjected to her tutors, to when she had had the ability to escape those and run to the marketplace that spread itself as much as possible with the shoreside as its frame back into her homeland. There, close to a much warmer sea, she would put her hand against the sack of grain only to simply push her fingers onto the packed bags, the feeling strange and ticklish as she dug deep into them. She found herself stopping the old and mechanical movement, the need for it obvious on her posture if the quiet chuckle from the man was anything to go by.

She was saved from some further inquiry as she felt two hands pushing against her upper thigs, the size of them human and tiny enough to suggest a kid, one that moved away with much more light on his eyes than what she had been able to spy on many of those who walked alongside her for as many days. Checking her pouch and finding it still attached to her hip, Freya stared as the kid stuck out his tongue, his blonde hair and clear green eyes a soft and sweet relief to her own sore stare. It felt almost painful, in a way she wasn’t ready to dwell on, the way the child’s bubble-like laugh reached for her before he was pulled away from his mother, curiosity obvious as his angle from beneath let her see not only her half-elven traits but the way she kept on nervously glancing every part of her magic hidden and tucked away.

Not out of fear, she would say, not out of terror or worry about the magic on itself as divinity, nature, pacts, were the usual on every other part of Tal’Dorei but she felt uneasy as she tried her hardest not to think on who the boy made her think of, on who the boy -out of sweetness- resembled another one, several others, who she had seen grown up until she had returned to Father’s summer house one year only to find the one next to it empty and cold and lacking.

Feeling magic crackling against her skin, the easy spell made out of two symbols with the aid of her thumb and forefinger almost escaped her as she considered fire, water and air as possibilities the small human child could enjoy. She halted herself on the very last second though, the wood of her focus warmer to the touch by the moment she glanced away, a small smile on her lips despite the weight of her memory as she was transported back to long afternoons and even longer evenings in where she would been spoken excitedly about objects and ideas that were still just a boy’s dream, a shadow of the reality that peppered now through Tal’Dorei: light and firepower and warmth echoing the name of an inventor, a fighter, whose title had been as evoking as the possibility of not one but two re-appearing back in the place from where they had been eradicated; their demises ones that had felt rough and sand-paper-like against Freya’s still too raw skin.

But they were alive, she said to herself as she muttered a soft apology to the man, his boyish smile as if he truly didn’t mind the lack of any sale easing up her steps while she walked further down the line of stalls, the cry of an eagle breaking through the morning air. At least two of them if the news were true and a part of her hold onto the possibility of it.

Because, she thought; at the end everything finished down the same shoreline, being it steep and cold or easy and warm: she needed them to be alive and she longed for them to be well. Even if her decision of leaving behind her own self-inflicted loss put her in a vague kind of danger she still didn’t know how to name. She had forged her own death after all; no one had told her that she would need to not pursue the lives of those who she had cared about. And she longed for that care and warmth and those stories whispered atop the tallest turret of a castle she had known like the palm of her hand back when titles and possibilities had been squandered into the wind. Shaking her head but heart beating lighter, she quickened her steps as she walked past the boy and his mother, mind made up by the time she brushed past them. She moved her fingers, magic minute but powerful a tiny flame danced between her fingers momentarily before it jumped right in front of the kid; his cheers of surprise making her burrow herself further into her hood as she suppressed a smile.

She looked back for one last time, the spell disappearing as soon as her concentration dropped; starry eyes following her, following her staff and clothes in a way that didn’t make her feel naked or raw but seen.

It was about candor, she thought as she left the castle and the marketplace behind, letting herself wander back to the Scarlet Pimpernel, the promise of some food and Valanthe’s easy small talk one she couldn’t truly deny. It was about the warmth that hid behind decisions and journeys.

The eagle screeched again, its call echoing at her back weak enough for her to not think about it twice.

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures Episode 10: “Family and Friends and Fond Farewells.”

Soooo, stuff happened last session, huh?

Coming right back from the heartwarming moment, of a group hug and concilatory pat, the party now must dispose of the elf wizard, Felaern Krissel,’s charred remains.

After a quick round up discussion, they come to the conclusion of weighing the body down into a nearby bog. Really, planning it out takes much longer than actually doing it.

With Luctan gearing himself up again and disguising himself, Belli has to wonder how the ring actually works, since once he puts it back on, he returns to the shaven human look , no peachfuzz on his face, no nothing. From what Luctan could guess, there is a specific recorded charm to it, but he is no magical expert, so he cannot be so sure.

They decide to leave town. But not at once. They first must make some appearances, look around, ask for a possible job opening or something. Look as little suspicious as they can.

Returning to Victrum, part of the party goes back to the Silver Hammer’s Inn, where they try to dissuade Gorruk from even an inkling of an idea that they may have done something to one of his tavern’s patrons.

There follows a lot of bluffing and headaching, faceplanting on the bar and groaning on the subject of shattered perspectives on people and heroes. And yet, somehow??? Luctan lives up to his chosen previous name and bluffs Gorruk into believing them (i.e. the DM was rolling low during the conversation).

A question comes up regarding the meaning of “suggar daddy”,and Gorruk just. Doesn’t answer the disguised tiefling.

With a successful negation of a disaster, the gang get some drinks and Luctan plays matchmaker for Mournimar and Gorruk, which leaves the half-orc man a-blushin’. Gorruk does show interest in a possible date. But Mournimar evidently was not in the right mindset to get together with the man, who’s customer he only recently saw on fire. But he does promiss to return eventually and have that date with the saddened and confused hunk of a man.

We also learn that Gorruk has had this bar for 4-5 years now, having it passed down to him by a man called Medive, who currently resides in Sa Doma, coincidentally, having opened a different establishment called the “Queen Nightingale”. Should the party meet him, they will be sure to tell the man that Gorruk and the Silver Hammer’s Inn are doing wonderfully.

Or. As a Nat 20 Deception Luctan put it: “ What do you mean, Gorruk? This place is a Palace. “

The party reunite with Samson, who had been cuddling up to Morgan, the Dire Wolf, during all this drama, non-the wiser of what had transpired. The lot of them get on the carriage and take off on a long road trip to Sa Doma, where Belli is to meet with Kit and her Brother.

And where Samson is to split from the party and fulfil his own, personal quest.

Night 1: 

As everyone gets to their sleeping time, Luctan finds himself having a dream. Feeling his hand get warm, due to an item he had collected about a month prior... And in his dreams, things occur.

Back in the waking world, Burk is the reigns holder as the others sleep. Rimefang happily at his side.

Felaern Krissel’s personal belongings:  89 gold pieces, 75 silver, expensive robes. Luctan holds onto these... for now.

On the second day of their travels, the highest perception people in the party notice something. A sign. Faded words spell “Love Shack, 50 miles away”.

There is not much discussion as the lot agree to follow the sign...

Along the way Belli helps Mournimar with his hair.

They reach the opening to an empty field with a small shack in the middle. As the tiefling two leave the carriage for the shack itself, everyone hears whooping and cheering coming from a carriage, coming close behind them. Lead by 3 horses, the carriage’s passangers  They’re dancing, singing, playing instruments and are all around having a good time.

The in-coming patrons look the party over:

- Like half the people wink at Mournimar

- barely few show interest for Belli.

- Luctan soaks in all of the attention once eyes fall on the “human” fighter.

- Amelia gets none of the spotlight, sadly, but Burk does get at least two people to show interest.

The enthusiasting group wave and gesture for The Cultbusters to come along. But Luck and Mournimar are way ahead of them as they are down right swaggering towards the entrance of the Love Shack.

“Stay away fools, ‘cause love rules at the Love Shack.”

Luctan rushes in, Mourni follows.

“IF you’re looking for fun, you’ve come for the right place.” A very funky tune is coming from the shack as the duo come on in.

This place is a hot spot for Ebriosus (Banned God of Forbidden Mortal Pleasures) worship . As well as for some of Fornas (God of Luck, Fate and Destiny)’ more lenient followers.

While the boys have their fun inside, Amelia and Belli keep to the carriage with the others...

Though Samson does eventually join in the shack, looking quite relaxed and blazed by the time he comes back with Luctan (wearing a Flower Crown) and Mournimar. Double thumbs up are thrown in the air. Friendship with Samson, acquired in the most weirdest of ways. High five between the tieflings.

And on that day, Luctan became a man (TM).

(There’s a green half orc, who yells “Eldritch Blaaaast” inside the Shack).

As the party takes off, Luctan blows an air kiss to the building. And a  half-elf dude catches his air kiss. Luctan swears to return one day. Maybe. Totally.

By the night of the 5th day, as the party is settling in for the night, around a campfire, they get joined by a wild looking woman, carrying three rabbits.

Thaks to Belli’s Zone of Truth, used with the woman’s consent, we learn that her name is Elouise and that she is a hunter, of sorts. She’s definitely not a serial killer or a cannibal. NO siree.

Not a townie, she is someone, who prefers life in the forest, as her appearance expresses, evidently.  Elouise is about as tall as Amelia. Ruffled hair. They introduce themselves and talk of Sa Doma. According to her, there’s a rampant problem with people of the trade. Something illegal? Criminals of all variety. Thieves, assassins, forgers, counterfitters.

As they go on in their talk, the party offers her a spot at their campfire. In exchange, and in grattitude, she prepares the rabbits and the party have a nice feast with this new friend, who they encourage to try the adventuring life out.

They discuss their journey so far and surprise Elouise with the tale of how they met a representation of Dyunificus; a golden stag. She eventually believes them (and Mourni gets the piss taken for giving away his gift from Dyunificus).

Shifts are taken during sleep. During Luctan’s, he takes the 75 silver pieces he had collected and Sleight of Hands them on Elouise’s person. Having decided not to let the opportunity of helping out someone, who was kind to them.

After Belli’s wonderful Breakfast making skills, the party and Elouise part ways. (AND WE LEARN OUT OF CHARACTER THAT SHE WAS A WEREWOLF! MY INNER TRAVIS WILLINGHAM IS SO DISAPPOINTED IN ME!)

“On the road again!”

About a week has passed since the Solstice festival. By now Luctan and Burk have spent some time training with each other. Sparring matches, working on strength and blade work. Or axe work, in Burk’s case.

They reach Baborum. The starting point of this whole journey that brought them together to begin with.

It is the Eve of The New Dawn (New Year’s Eve).

There is nostalgia in the air. It hasn’t been long, but they’ve accomplished so much since they met. And so much to come. 

In the sky, Mournimar can see them. There are many a constillations. Chuckling gnomes scurry about, doing their thing, everyone gathering i nthe center of the town and prepare for what comes next. 

There’s a brief thick silence as everyone stops speaking, before a flash of light, a crack , shimmer and fireworks. Purple, yellow and green. The sleepy eyed kids look in wonder.

“You’re doing alright, kids. You’re doing alright.” (Our DM)

As the fireworks are going off, Amelia checks for a child she had seen when they previously had been here. A boy, who’s father had passed. She sees him, with his mother. The boy sits atop the shoulders of a man, familiar to the mother, surely.

The boy is healing. For tonight, at least, he is happy.

And they are all content.

Belli makes eye contact with the tavern owners that capitalized on their capture of the cultist. Said tavernitestry to avoid eye contact with her. So much nostalgia in the air.

Samson learns from Luctan about the party’s start.

And that is the New Dawn celebration.

The morning of the 11th day, Kevin and Killer bring the carriage to Sa Doma, a massive city. FREAKING HUGE, OK?!

We make our entrance from the South-Western gate, passing by the evident buildings between the outside and the city walls. Temples, quite evident from the outside alone.

And when they go in... Half the party, all the boys at least, have certainly never been to a town like this before. So big. So thick. So filthy.

Pulling his hood up, Samson tells his fellows to keep an eye out for their stuff, lest pickpockets rob them blind.

They make their preparations and go on in. 

The others notice that this portion of the city is littered with Qorin and Embriosus symbols... Keeping an eye out, they can tell that shadyness is the norm. And anything outside of it, will catch attention. Like most of the party.

Goblins, Tieflings, Golliaths, Centaurs... Yeah. Burk is the “normal one” here.

Someone bumps into Belli as they go along. She receives a parchment from Kit. “The Lean peacock, north-east.”

They walk past some guard barracks, a dodgy looking tavern called “The scattered heart”, a guild hall for the DarkbBane Army. “The Brave Fighters standing against evil” and past the “Warmaster’s office”

There’s a city hall, currently being guarded by two almost identical tieflings. Luctan takes note of them. The male and female tieflings are red skinned, they have long black hair both. One has a figure, the female?! The male one’s got his arms folded and being way more macho than usual.

They pass through Peppery Pete’s, they spot the guild hall for the Lawyer’s Guild.

It is here, where they part with Samson. There are hugs, there are handshakes and there are salutes.

And there are finger gun genstures. Whatever a “gun” is, anyways. (We seriously question whether Luctan is The Fonz by this point, with his “Eyyyyy!”  routine).

Luctan offers Samson their services if trouble arrises.

The last place they pass by is “Liliana’s Bath house.”  (Jokes are made, as we wonder if it’s an actual bath house or just a kink thing).

They make it to the tavern. There’s a very elegantly painted bright bird. “The Lean peacock.” Anxiety is in the air. They can feel it. Hell, Belli and Mournimar embody it.

They scan the room and see Kit with the pink ribbon. A very inconspicuous looking redheaded half-elf. Sat next to her is a face they seem to recognize, but not sure where. (It’s Ficus. He looks similar to Belli. They are siblings after all.)

Ficus is a tattooed gray half-orc with red and blue tattoos on his person, a number of rings on his fingers and blue highlights in his darker shade of brown hair.

They recognize each other, Bellia and Ficus. They recognize each other.

Belli goes over to Kit and Ficus, being awkward, while the rest of the party go to the bar. Mournimar takes a seat nearby and just watches, willing to jump in the conversation if things go bad.

Kit smiles up, but she gives a half-glare, a negative emotion directed towards Ficus.  She gestures to Belli to sit. Ficus looks terrified.

“It’s nice to see you again, Kit.”  - Belli.

“It’s a fantastically tense surrounding, isn’t it?” - Kit.

“it’s certainly been a while. That was a bad start, that was a bad start. Oh God.” - Ficus.

As they talk, Kit, sitting beside Ficus, becomes something of an awkward intermediary

I thought you were dead. We thought someone had kidnapped you in the middle of the night and you were dead.” - Belli speaks, her voice evident with a mix of emotions.

I tried to leave some kind of note. I don’t-I guess-“

“Yes, a rock and you think a note is a good thing to disappear with.”

“If they had known I was going to go, they wouldn’t have let me.”

“They did everything to try and find you. They never stopped looking. Why did you leave? You’re family and you just left?! Didn’t eeven say goodbye”

“I was scared. Is that so hard to believe?”

“I was scared and I never did what you did.”

“I didn’t want what they wanted me to be.”

“They didn’t want me as a son. They wanted someone lively and fun, someone who could play the instruments and I was not this.”

“We’re bards, Ficus.”

“I’m not.”

As they continue, Mournimar subtly moves closer, by a table. Luctan keeps his eyes on the other tiefling, giving him a look of pure “WTF-ery”.

Ficus didn’t want to be like them. He didn’t want to be a “clown”. He wanted to do something bigger than perform.

“There’s more to being a bard than performing and throwing glitter about.”

He wanted to be there, be at the front. And he did. He fought in the wa of years prior. And left. 

He admits he became a thief, after being pressed to answer, by Belli. “I’ve taken contracts to hurt-to kil people. I’ve killed people.”

It’s what the bands on his neck mean.

“If you were that desperate for money, why didn’t you go back home and ask for help?”

“Because they wouldn’t understand.“

Ficus wants to make amends. He’s hidden for too long and needs to see them again. He was selfish to leave, but couldn’t take it anymore and had to go.

And it is with this OOF. That Belli spills the beans on her own witnessed OOF.

On the story of how she found her parents frozen in stone, when returning with supplies to fix the carriage.

Ficus’ face goes through many negative emotions. But the superior one that bursts through like a damn dam is grief and sorrow as he starts to cry.

Belli’s had to do a lot of things to survive. She is angry with him. BUT!

As pissed as she is at Ficus, she still wants him in her life.  He is openly weeping. There is sadness in the air. Kit doesn’t know how to comfort people. She uses one of Belli’s hands and pats Ficus with it.

At this time, Mournimar joins the conversation.  Belli introduces Mournimar to Ficus. In a hell of a way. He’s better than Ficus. But Belli still loves him and doesn’t want to lose him.

Ficus immediatelly goes invisible, much to Belli’s frustration with her older brother.

From below the table, a small tabbycat hops on the table.  Mournimar pats it, but it feels like Ficus is petting it.  Belli demands he show himself again. And he does. He is a total mess.

Kit is panicking by this point, the poor Changeling, as she doesn’t know what to do. But she will see this through. For both Narahs’ sake, she must!

Mournimar tries to encourage Ficus, but man, it doesn’t go well for the drow born tiefling. Luctan has to pull him out of the conversation and scene itself, much to Mournimar’s dismay as he desperately wants to comfort the two half-orcs.

But ultimately, he submits and steps out, towards the  “Obnoxious Bee inn”, opposite of “The Lean Peacock”. As they leave, Burk hands Rimefang over to Mournimar for emotional support, (aww), while Amelia has not stopped drinking since the whole conversation started.

The poor Air Genasi has been stressed out beyond words.

The boys go in and look around the place, but don’t find anyone recognizable.

Mournimar drinks, while Luctan gives him a sober pep talk, giving him assurance that everything will turn out well with the Narahs. After all. They’re family.

Mournimar mentions a drow named Lazarus and Luctan seems to recognize that name... Strange.

Mournimar elaborates on his history with this person and why they’d evidently be in this town.

2 years prior to all this, Mournimar got in a relationship with a drow-elf named Lazarus. Tall guy, charming, very nice to him and they hit it off. He ended up distancing himself. Next thing he knew, he found him passed out, bloodied at a shrine to FUCKING POTENCIA, after he knew what she did to Mournimar...

“He had the balls to say “It wasn’t Potencia’s fault!”“

Once the older tiefling gets this off his chest, Luctan drops another pep talk. He may not be the brightest yarnball in the oven, but even he can see things from a certain perspective.

Mournimar sighs and is getting his composure back together.

Back with the Narahs.... Emotions are a bitch.

By now, Ficus starts to calm down.  “Well, where are they?”

Belli explains that she had left them at home.  Ficus has a lot to make up for and it may  take him the rest of his life to make up for it. 

Do you kind of understand, or was this all for nothing?”

They talk well and Ficus almost smiles. He elaborates that he’s had friends keep tabs on Belli, during her recent travels.

“Do you remember what today is?”Belli’s 17th Birthday

Ficus remembers, of course. And even has a present for Belli. A necklace container shaped box.

“Yes. You’re not completely hopeless as a brother, then.”  The Sibling bonding is exciting and cavity enducing as we learn about their past shenanigans, involving pools of water, mud pies and the like.

Kit asks if they’ll go to Keemas for Night Cap?

Ficus shares that he has a place, somewhere in town. But isn’t that good with words, the poor awkward half-orc.

(From their interaction, this player can only discern that Kit is Ficus’ Belli as Mournimar is Belli’s Ficus.)

The cat that Ficus has with him is, as he puts it, his Fae familiar. One very pettible boy named “Bumpkin”. Which surprises Belli, to say the least.

There are kazoo puns made and laughter is had between the siblings as they hug it out. They missed each other.

Belli proceeds to introduce her brother to her friends, startign with Amelia and Burk. Amelia is drunk, but constute enough to handle herself. She gets to meet Bumpkin, who’s form is that of a tabby cat.

Burk is not impressed with Ficus and lets the evidently scared half-orc know this fact. And he asks if Ficus threw a rock at him.  He makes sure to let Burk know that omeone else threw a rock at him. Ficus doesn’t want Burk to kick his teeth out.

Belli drops some truthbombs, while Ficus tries to explain that the necklace he got her can do the same thing that brought Bumpkin to the Material plane.

Belli basically gets to have her own familiar! Belli has a friend necklace, which she is very excited about. A very drunk Amelia points out the boys went to the other tavern and that’s where the gray half-orcs take to.

Amelia has an emotional breakdown. Existential crisis.

Amelia gets more Rum. Burk gets another Tequila slammer.

There is further sibling bonding as they head to the Bee inn. Talk of chair theft. So much chair theft. It’s wild.

Mournimar hasn’t drunken that much, thus he is but tipsy as the two enter. Via belli kicking the door in, to announce their presence.  Mourni freezes immediately. “Oh, Fuck!” He panicks.

But the situation looks much resolved, compared to earlier. very much resolved.

The two meet Ficus and shake his hand.

Luctan having to shake it in motions to where it looks like a normal one, countering th shiver the taller man has. He oozes that charisma in ways to calm down the male Narah, while Ficus apologizes to Mournimar.

The awkward handshake ensues between the awkward boys and Mournimar asks of Sa Doma.

“To summrise it politely, it’s a shithole.” There are lovely people here. The lady at the bathhouse is one of them.  Liliana is a lovely old lady. The bathhouse is nice. 

Mournimar asks about Lazarus  When he mentions the sword, Luctan just stares, his interest peacked.

Ficus hasn’t seen this guy. Nor heard of him. His surname is fairly common.

There are sex jokes that ensue. Yes, things have definitely gone to a good vibe again.

Ficus then proceeds to tell them about sights they could partake in, depending on their disposition. And on things to avoid.

There’s a battle axe and a half woman around. Don’t tangle with her.

A brewery.

He mentions The “Queen Nightingale”, Medive’s place, where he apparently gambles???

And, should they look for them, there are many a brothels.

There are temples and the like.

Belli mentions their meeting with Dyunficus. But Ficus doesn’t believe them.

Somehow. Someway the conversation leads them to Belli barring Ficus from having a “go” at Luctan. (Yes. In ;)  way).

Much to her bro’s dismay. Ficus finds Luctan attractive. That 15 charisma, man. It’s really something.

Should they be interested, there is a school of the arcane to look into for study.

At the temple of Keemas there’s some good shit that’s not exactly legal. (Light the previously mentioned stuff).

There’s a market and there are many a shops. Including a library/tavern mashup.

And should they look for it, there is a fight club. Around the corner, behind, if you come out a door and go straight past 3 buildings, there’s an open area, where fights occur occasionally. Something to share with Burk, definitely. 

After some accidental and “accidental” flirting with Ficus, the boys return Rimefang to Burk, having decided to go to that library tavern, afterwards.

Amelia, by this point, is pretty out of it. No barfing, but she does throw a glass across the room. Luctan decides to carry her to a room, tries to buy one and is told to take her out of the establishment.

So he goes back to the Bee’s inn and tries there, with better luck as the brunette half-elven woman running the bar points him to a storage closet, where Amelia can take a well deserved nap.

“Everyone’s a little fucked up.”  - The Half-Elven woman.

“Mood, sister.” - Luctan.

Ficus even lends her Bumpkin as a cuddle buddy.

(YES, HE HAS A B! IT IS MY HEADCANON!)

As the boys leave, they agree they are horrible to Amelia, accidnetally as it is.

“This is our truth. We are horrible.”

And as the two head to the library, we reach an ending point.

Previous Episode / Next Episode

[royal-writer]

a little ‘what if’

no fancy title idea for this. I’m feeling the onslaught of sickness coming on, so I’m cutting this short. massively short but oh my god sleep.

Mama don’t just ‘like’ any man that steps up to win her daughter’s hand. Nah, you have to EARN her respect and blessin... what’s better than to see the genuine trust and love of two people, and knowing that someone has your kids best interests at heart, and that they can make them smile and laugh and bring joy to their life? true, real joy. that’s all mama wants for her child. Yee ;;

Hepsiba Medüza did not like him. Lord Amon saw it in the way she behaved with everyone, but himself. Where she was maternal. How she was warmhearted. Her elaborate actions to please. Yet it felt like all was different and reserved the instant she observed a glimpse upon him.

There were moments when she held to a toothy grin and a mother’s wisdom while fretting over their team all between her teases. She held much of Essätha in her actions, he came to realize swiftly. They had the same sort of joy in their faces when they were happy; where it gripped every feature on the face and exploded into frenzied gestures and boundless energy. They even had a similar laugh, and grinned with the same effort that would at times, peek out the extended length of their cuspids. So like mother, so was like daughter.

But despite their likenesses, they were equally different. Essätha sneezed loud, while her mother sounded like a squeaky door hinge. Where the young Yuan-ti was bold and impulsive; the wild of a raging storm, her mother was timid and soft-spoken like a doe. When tired, his dear heart curled up to conserve heat and her mother oppositely lounged to stretch over her sofa and twitch as she slept.

Essie craved adventure and freedom. She fought with passion, and would do so until her dying breath. Always a burning inferno whipping nearly out of control. Brilliant and hard to grasp or understand. Hepsiba was polite beyond measure, in contrast. Her battles were fought with kindness, or abandoned when she felt the purpose beyond lost. She held a mysterious tongue, but was generally revealing and open in nature.

Both Medüza women were their own unique type of lady. From the tight coils of light brunette in Hepsiba’s hair, to the loose curls and bouncy wave’s of Essie’s light black that the Briarton Lord’s fingers grew tangled in.  Their eyes told different stories of tragedy. One he he knew well; saw the summer solstice burn gold around the iris and fleck throughout a soft coppery tawny. The other a bright green; aloe leaves that were showing the wear and tear of time and age.

The illness that had at one time tried to consume Hepsiba had left a great toll as much as aging did. Her eyes appeared to have a wash of discolored fog faded faintly to them. The thick texture of her mane had, according to his Essie, had grown thin (which left Amon astonished; it appeared lethally dense as it was). Her skin looked paper thin and the appearance of veins were in some areas, dark in contrast. She grew fatigue at the simplest work; and if not for the kindly neighbor a bit down the way who visited frequently to help her out, it left Amon to wonder how the elder woman managed. Her body was a fraility, but her mind was sharp.

She had a knack for pushing through exhaustion. When Hepsiba was sure she could manage something; despite the lack of belief on any other, she did so. Her words would come out cutting in a way that was haunting when you did not heed her first words to back off. She was feisty in her independence, he’d give her that. The string of words she could put together sounded like the teachings of scholars; lengthy and astute.

Yet try as he might to connect with the slender aged woman, she did not try to connect with him. Her studious remarks were clipped. Her mannerisms respectful but distant. She would curtsy or bow, accept a kiss on her hand in the deepest level of respect with a smile. It was an echoed version of Essätha what felt like centuries ago. Disconnected and unwilling; not lining up with her eyes and disjointed.

Hepsiba squeezed her daughter with all the fond love of a mom; her every dream and affection put into her child. Dotted over her, but held herself back as she watched Essie continuously grow and make her decisions and become her own person. She was devoted and endlessly proud, as one should be to watch such a magnificent woman grow into her own. The haze-gloom over Hepsiba’s gaze could not stop the saturation of merriment when she looked to her daughter in a way that enticed a slice of envy in the soul of anyone who noticed. It was the kind of relationship every child longed to have with their parent. It held notes of the kind of connection you wanted to hold with everyone you held dear.

She treated Abernathy like an old friend within moments of meeting him. He was invited to return as often as he’d like with his husband for brunch, for lunch, and so on. They chatted of ‘younger days’ as if they’d lived them together. The laughter hardly ceased. He seemed to be the only one aside from Sulhadur she accepted help from in rare occasions.

The Dragonborn held her attention for his polite qualities. Hepsiba glorified his heroism and innocence with trusting pats. When dinner came, there was always an extra slab of meat cooked up and added to Sul’s plate so he wouldn’t have to eat so much of the grain and vegetables she steamed (which was fine with Amon, he found himself sneaking seconds like a ravenous wolf for her well seasoned cooking).

Quite the opposite, Rava got the disciplining gentle motherly hand. Sometimes Hepsiba’s words mingled in with Essie’s in a h soft reprimand that had everyone laughing. She scolded the young elfling when her curiosity had her leaping and taking without thinking of the consequence. She frequently pushed more health-optional food the young girl’s way, too. It didn’t stop Rava from grabbing something sweet or drinking a bottle of syrup when they left the private home at the far reaches of the village, but Hepsiba tried.

Aylin she held politeness to, even when he slipped Rava treats. When he inquired about her and the culture of her kind, she answered what Essätha would not or could not. The straightforward notion of his race’s harsh beliefs seemed to cause her unease and discomfort, but nevertheless, she smiled patiently through their chats.

Courteous she might be to the Drow, it was nothing compared to her admiration for Pri’cha. She adored the well-mannered cleric at first glance. When Pri offered prayer before supper, Hepsiba gladly joined her. She sung a few hymns of Pelor with the Radiant One; the parts said she could remember, anyway. It seemed to take no effort to like the humanoid insect. It was a sentiment Amon could agree with.

There was no judgment on behalf of Adela. The name of another Tiefling came up upon first greetings that made Amon wish to curl his lip, but he refrained. Solace contained none of Adela’s refined decency. They spoke over a small, unimpressive collection of the Medüza matriarch’s jewelry and trinkets, and when Adela presented her with a custom bracelet; simple but elegant, she’d been ecstatic and clung to the pale reddish-pink woman with boastful lines of flattery. They did not connect as deeply as she did some of the others, but there was no denying the friendliness.

Although startled by Penimra’s horrifying demented mouth as he ate, the old Yuan-ti woman tried to associate with the arrogant elf and understand him. When his euphemisms came out unintentionally biting, she remained polite and thanked him for his opinion. Penimra was given more notice than he was.

Amon tried not to suffocate in his desire to impress the mother of the woman he adored. No amount of honest compliments, or generous gifts, seemed to make her smile past a flat line. Hepsiba thanked him, offered him questions and concerns, and moved on to the next party member. Every now and then, he caught her sights upon him. The shadows made it hard to identify her true feelings, but they were watchful. Studying him intensely.

The next moment, she would be offering kisses to K’varr, or stroking Caesar’s head as the animals paraded around the small house. Although her eyes were no longer on them, he could still feel a tension in the air. Clenching to his aching jaws, setting in his taut pulled shoulders. Trying not to stare too hard as she cooked and cleaned, or performed smaller feats of magic. When she walked past, and he held his breath for fear even just being too loud would upset her.

What future would he have with the woman he loved, if her mother didn’t like him? Would she hold it against him? Would she tell Essie he was no good for her? Would there be a future for them at all, if he couldn’t convince Hepsiba he only wanted happiness for her daughter?

He had to know what he was doing wrong. Some way, some how, he would try and try again as much as he could, in hopes of getting her to like him. After all, it was going to be rather difficult to get her approval and blessing for her daughter’s hand, if he could even manage that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“More tea, Abernathy?”

“No thank you, Hepsiba. I’ve had enough.”

She smiled over her shoulder, rinsing out her mug in the deep bowl filled with water in front of her. The cracked window before the counter where she often chopped vegetables was letting in a lovely breeze today. Outside, she could make out the shape of the many house visitors. Some were sitting around talking, some were goofing off, and others were packing and unpacking items from their wagon.

The firewood Amon had chopped for her the other day still had a sharp smell sitting just outside the window. It was blowing directly into the household. Hepsiba sniffed softly, setting the glass aside to air dry. Her legs ached from standing making the massive breakfast she’d worked on since before dawn to serve her hungry new children. They came and went often, since their current work was nearby. Essätha had been sure to stock the tiny cottage with enough food to fill an army, which is what it felt like she was often doing.

Try as she might, Essätha continued buying her things and stocking the house, without taking any reimbursement. That child of hers. She’d been sending bank slip notes home ever since she took flight and left the nest. Though Hepsiba scolded her for it, it was a large help. After she’d managed to make it out of that wretched city with her daughter and failing health, it had taken a long recovery process and many clerics to nurse her back to some functional state.

Work always remained hard. Raising a rambunctious girl had been tiring to the bone, but it never made her love her spirited daughter any less. She made their lives doing small jobs; sometimes picking up a seamstress service, other times actually getting hired on for a ceremonial event as a cook when people were desperate. Her body hurt as if it was much older than it was for years, and only grew worse as time went by.

She’d raised a wonderful, brilliant adult though. Essie had made it all worth it. Labor intensive or not. She’d grown up so much; much too fast in so many ways Hepsiba wished she could take back. The youth of her brave little girl, never understanding why people were so cruel to her for being different. The nurturing ways she sometimes had to look after her when too many days of hard, grueling work left her bedridden for a day or two.

Now she had Ethan down the lane, who was a perfect gentleman and helped all the neighbors. He brought her clothes from the villagers, and she would mend them up and he would return them. They exchanged meals; his kind wife Helen visited with their kids and they helped clean up and she’d offer her help where she could.

Life was simple and quiet, but it was just the way she liked it. She was left to long for the days when her little serpent would visit again, but she had wielded her own life now. An extraordinary life of grand adventures that people spoke of even among their little town. Essätha was a name among many, with her comrades that swirled around gossip and news. What a delightful surprise for her baby to visit home, and bring all these interesting and lively people with her for her to meet.

What a courageous daughter she had. She worried for her, the more the rumors spread. It made her look around as she wiped her hands dry, but there was no sign of her pretty little girl among those outside. There was no Essie at the table, either, where Abe and Adela still sat speaking softly to each other.

The front door opened, and Hepsiba looked that was expectedly. Though she did not see her daughter, the dark-haired nobleman entered cautiously. He pushed the door closed with a gloved hand; the bottom trim of fur on his cloak brushing the floor as he stepped through the house without a glance in their direction a few yards from the door. One arm was kept firmly down to his side, not swinging as was natural to people in motion.

Hepsiba moved to follow after Lord Amon; unnoticed. He disappeared behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the sitting area, and from there she spotted the wide shape of his frame move into the hall to the bedrooms.

Adela and Abernathy were still speaking to each other in a deep conversation when she shuffled quietly after the man.

It had nothing to do with a lack of trust in him moving through the home, but she was curious. Wherever that man seemed to wander, her Essie didn’t seem to be far.

She was close to the archway when she heard voices. Hesitantly, her eyes peeked around the extended wall to spy. It was her house. She tried telling herself there was nothing wrong with a bit of snooping.

It was dark. The only lighting was the natural lighting cutting through from the open doors to bedrooms with windows. In the shaped silhouette outlines, her vision began to pick up the details of two people standing nearly in the doorway of Essie’s old bedroom.

A girlish giggle escaped Essätha shyly. She pressed a self-conscious hand across to hide her face as Amon tucked the folds of a fully bloomed pink lily behind her ear. He retrieved that same hand moments later, bringing it to his face to rest his lips against the patchwork of scales. A radiant and genuine smile was broadly displayed on her daughter’s face, where it glistened up into the sunspecks of her eyes.

As they shifted, Hepsiba pulled herself out of the line of sight from the pair just as her Essie leaned in to kiss the man.

“I love you.”

Hepsiba exhaled quietly. The whispering husk of the man was hardly audible, but those words were hard to mistake for anything else.

“I love you too, m’lord.”

She’d seen what she’d needed to see. Even with the words, she’d seen enough.

There was long silence, and then a scrap of boots against the floor. That’s when Hepsiba made her move.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There was a glow about Essätha’s eyes that only seemed to shine brighter the moment he expressed his feelings. He hadn’t been able to stop the compulsion when he’d seen the blossom, at the peak of it’s life. With a steady drag of his blade to the steam, he’d nipped it free and knew just where it should be, to compliment an even more graceful beauty than even it.

Her smile was warm and enticing. It fastened him like gravity to the ground even as he felt weightless and life beneath such a longing gaze. He held upon her delicate fingers with a careful grip, pressing her fingertips to his lips next. The shape of her face she tried to hide; tucking her chin in with a shy blush and sections of curls hanging over her eyes and cheeks.

With a little tug on her hand, Essie took a step down the hall to encourage him to follow. He felt instantly pulled to the traverse of the sun as she moved; her ethereal light beckoning him.

A figure moved into the hallway suddenly, beaming brilliantly. They moved with a slowness; and stalled Amon’s advance even as Essätha’s hand slipped from his fingers.

“Ma,” the younger Yuan-ti greeted quietly, leaning in to kiss her mother’s cheek.

“Oh Essie my little viper,” the elder Yuan-ti laughed, pecking her daughter in return as she took hold of her hand in a squeeze. “Would you mind going and finishing the dishes? I’m a bit sore today, I’m sorry.”

“I can do that mom, you go sit down and rest a while, okay?”

“Yes, I think I’ll do that dear, thank you.”

The Lord of the Emerald Expanse almost dared to think to call her back. Instead he stood uncomfortably still, and watched his darling float out of sight. It left him awkwardly alone, with the adoring look of her mother staring after her.

Maybe he’d be lucky, and she would not strike at him like a furious cobra.

When she turned to him, the expression on Hepsiba’s gaze grew calculating. He stiffened considerably more under her evaluation.

He grew even more rigid as she broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, Lord Amon!” she gushed with delight. “My word, you stepped in without a single hello or good day.”

This felt an awful lot like a setup. Unsure which card to play, he moved to bow politely to the elder woman.

“I apologize, lady Medüza-”

“Oh stop with the ‘lady’ this and ‘lady’ that,” she scoffed, shambling down the hall towards him. “‘Hepsiba’ works just fine.”

Amon was numb as the woman reached for him. Linking her arm through his, he looked on with bewilderment to the fragile looking lady of the house. Her smile was full, and worked its way up into the glint playing off her eyes.

“I- uh-”

“Would you mind helping me to the couch, Lord Amon?” she inquired in a fast-paced voice of joy and excitement. “I would appreciate the help so much.”

The sudden change in demeanor made no sense. What had he done differently today? He was perplexed by her joy, which was in that state of resembling Essätha’s bubbly glee. He’d seen that look plenty, but never was it directly aimed to him.

Swallowing his confusion and his nerves, he spoke briskly but politely as he inclined his head, and reached across to carefully place a hand over the bend of her arm.

“It would be my pleasure, lady Medüza.”

“Hepsiba, please, young man,” she taunted him playfully, patting his hand.

With all the bewilderment in the world to this sudden change, Amon took full advantage in guiding her carefully around the jutted out wall in the direction of her sofa. Whatever the reason for her change of heart, he had a foot in the door, and if this was all the chance he was going to get, he was going to make the best of it.

[limpblotter]

Wishes

a/n: warm up drabble, its not a fully fleshed out idea but I like to think Molly and Yasha found the circus by accident, pure luck and faith. And entirely triggered by Molly’s childlike wonder about his new life.

No matter how long the night may feel, in all of it’s empty vastness, the moon no matter how shrouded in its blanket, would find her way. In moments of utter blank space, there was always a moon cresting.

A new moon may seem like an empty, hollow vessel, but she was simply preparing herself, for a form might brighter and greater than the one she had last. A cycle.

The days blurred together for at least a month straight, the only thing the tiefling knew how to do was eat, sleep and stare aimlessly at nothing. His eyes adjusting slowly to the brightness of the world after being in dark for so long…so long…Sleep was a challenge, every moment he close his eyes he could feel the dampness of earth on his face and lungs, he could feel his nails crusted as he helplessly struggled to breach the surface and take his first gasps of rebirth.

Each time he would wake in a cold sweat, eyes wet as he relived the first dark moments he emerged from the ground at night…alone…unnamed…and empty. In the middle of another night he rose from his makeshift bed against some trees and began looking around, eyes confused as he heard rustling in the dark. His eyes narrowing, hissing viciously as a shadow approached from the darkness.

“its me…” The woman approached hands up, the same woman that found him over a week ago and had been traveling with him cautiously. “I left to find more kindling.” She dropped a handful of dry wood into their fire. The tiefling grew more at ease and nodded. He settled back into the tree and looked up at the moonless sky with a frown.

“Moon is gone…” He muttered almost sulking like a child.

“Tis’ a new moon tonight.”

“New Moon?”

“Aye, means that the moon is…changing, and then it will grow back into a full moon again like a cycle.” She watched as the Tiefling kept looking up. “But you know the moon isn’t gone-gone, its…just waiting behind something before it can shine again.”

“I don’t like it.”

Yasha smirked a bit, “well the night is still beautiful without her moon. Moon isn’t there you can see more stars and uh…perhaps shooting stars… as well if you look closely.”

“Shooting stars?”

“Yea you know…the ones that streak across the night. Children make wishes on them…sometimes I do too…doesn’t hurt to wish, and how knows it may come true…” Yasha watched as suddenly the purple tiefling stood up and began staring at the sky with a deep intensity… She bit back a snicker watching his tail swish and twitch before something went across his eyes and he immediately leapt back.

“I found one!” He jumped and began to follow a small blinking light that flew across his face. “Shooting star.” He pointed as the flickering light began to flutter away.

“No that’s a –“ She watched as the tiefling took off into the night. “Wait!”

He ran through high grass in the dead of night, leaving the light and warmth of their fire and campsite. He ran into a small, tall grass meadow that parted from the tree line they had been staying at and found himself surrounded by twinkling lights. Blinking, floating ever so softly around him, among the grass, a few landing on parts of his arms and horns and began to shine and decorate him.

“Tiefling!” She called out finding him standing in the midst of a light show, hundreds of fireflies floating as though they found their home.

“We can make hundreds of wishes, Yasha” He turned to her, “I can wish for the moon to return, for more stars…for work for you and I” He began naming off the things he could wish for. “…for a name…for…the emptiness to go away…”

“Friend…” Yasha slowly made her way to the tiefling. “You can wish for anything you want, but a wish can only do so much, fate can only do so much we have to make some wishes on our own. Like a name and—“ she didn’t have the heart to break his dream like splendor. For the past few days he had slowly began to emerge out of his catatonic state into a person again. “We can start with a name and work our way down that list.” She gently rubbed his shoulders before spying another few flickers of fire beyond the meadow.

The Tiefling turned to where Yasha began to look and from their proximity could see several tents set up, and people sitting around the fire. The shadows ranged from tall to short, thick and slender…

Yasha began to turn back to their campsite, hand on her sword, “Let’s go back.”

The tiefling also began to turn when a firefly off his arm began to fly towards the direction of the second campsite with the many tents, his eyes wide as he muttered. “A wish…” He began to follow the firefly, careful not to step to loudly as he approached the campsite. He moved around watching the firefly slip into the small fold of a large tent and disappeared within.

With little hesitation he did the same, watching as the small insect flew through the lit tent and landed on a table on top of a deck of cards. The purple tiefling wandered over to the table and picked up a card, examining it for a while. The back of the card had a beautiful gold and purple lace like design and the front had different paintings and images, the goddess, the chariot, the fool. He moved through the tent to the front exit and found the shadows, an elf like woman playing with flames at the tips of her hand, halflings tumbling and flipping over each other, a large, man billowing in laughter as a fiddler began to play a sweet tune.

They were….magical? Smiling, performing not for an audience but for themselves as though riding a high of a good day’s work. Behind him he felt the hand of a powerful person pulling him back from the tent’s exit. “Are you out of mind!? This is someone’s camp and …” She began to mutter as a shadow came to the tent. Yasha pulled the tiefling back behind her and slowly went for her sword as an average built man parted through the tent flaps, a slight surprise to his eyes to find two strangers in his tent. One of them clutching his cards, the other seeming defensive.

“We mean no harm…my friend wandered off and we’ll be leaving now.” She jerked the purple tiefling around who seemed too intrigued by the man wearing the tophat to notice she was trying to get them to leave.

The man stood at the door, not terrified or confused but simply…curious.

“Gustav, everything alright?” One of the burlier voices called out after him.

The man stood there with a smile, “Yes,…uh Bo do be a friend and grab two more cups of ale…we have guests.” He smiled at the pair. “You two must be a talented bunch to sneak into a campsite of a few people��without being noticed, yes…you seem strong” He looked at Yasha. “and you…you’ve got the eyes of a dreamer, you have a liking to the cards of fortune telling?”

“What are you trying to pull here” Yasha hissed.

“Nothing, I’m a curious man…who found two curious folk..and if you are equally as curious perhaps…instead of fighting or running off we can explore this curiosity together. I am Gustav Fletching” He bowed. “And this is my carnival…my family of traveling curiosities.”  

Yasha looked at him then back at the tiefling. “What should we do, purple one.” She turned to him.

He didn’t say anything…but watched as the lightening bug he had been chasing landed on the top of the man’s hat…”Wish…” he muttered then smiled at Yasha who seemed to understand what he meant by that. She slowly sheathed her sword and nodded, “I’m Yasha…and this is my friend…we are…lost travelers in search of work and…honestly anything that keeps us warm and safe for the time being…”

Gustav nodded a bit, “it seems fate has drawn us together.” He opened the tent a little more. “Come, let’s talk employment” He motioned Yasha to go first then looked back at the tiefling holding the tarot cards. “Keep them.” He smiled, “they suit you.”

[elonthor]

lady siofra:

      The delicate woman’s voice carried through the breeze like the sound of birds chirping in the wind, both far away from and all around Siofra as she sat in the greenhouse.

      “To find true love muddle the petals of a pink rosebud in a dish of milk and sugar under the light of a new moon.”  Siofra scribbled furiously in her notebook.

      “And then what, Daphne?  Add the hair of a horse born at midnight in the third stall of the stable of a barn built in an odd numbered year?”  Siofra almost missed the hint of a sly smile as the voice continued on seemingly amused. 

      “Laugh now but separately each of these ingredients might help you determine your fate, sweet child.  It’s up to you to know.”  Siofra nodded solemnly.  Normally she was hungry for knowledge and soaked up every last word Daphne breathed.  For everything Andre knew, Daphne had the knowledge that Siofra couldn’t explain.  If Daphne hadn’t started whispering to her the former queen would have surely gotten away with murdering Siofra as expediently and cleanly as the former queen had murdered Siofra’s father. For all Daphne knew, she seemed truly blase about the duties a young, unmarried, orphan regent had ahead of her.

      “I suppose it would be prudent to manifest feelings of love for my husband once I find out who he is.  Andre has allowed a potential suitor to begin his journey to the castle.  So this may prove useful sooner rather than later.”

      “Vindel?  Andre will never open the gates for someone with so many -” Daphne paused to hiss - “scars”.  

      Siofra chuckled softly to herself. “Emotional or physical?”

      Daphne’s voice floated above Siofra’s shoulder and became almost imperceptible. “Both taste sweet on the right man’s lips, child.  You’ll find out soon enough.”

________________________________

      As Daphne’s voice faded out on the wind, Siofra awoke with a bolt in her bed to find she was decidedly not in her bed.  Her journal strewn out on the floor with some blankets and pillows she had dragged there the night before.  Hemlock tea sitting by the bedside in a shallow pool at the liquid from her clumsy attempts to set it down the night before. Everything from the day before came rushing back to her.  The letter, the festival, and, for better or worse, the long islands.  The more she remembered, the more her head began to pound.  Siofra pulled out her medicine kit and began mixing things together.

      Hyskaria was undoubtedly caring for Vindel by this point assuming that he hadn’t recovered.  For all she remembered Vindel reacted rather strongly to the drinks, but save for his incessant chatter about sex and love and other things that would make Andre faint from impropriety, seemed fine and as always entwined with Hyskaria.  When she first met the pair Siofra couldn’t believe the two.  A tiefling and a prince.

      Siofra hadn’t been in the world for terribly long, but Andre’s lessons on royalty told her that no real prince would abandon his duty for love.  In fact, the entire idea insulted her entire upbringing.  She’d never admit it to them now but Siofra took the couple’s blatant happiness as a personal offense at first. Although now the thought of the two often inspired an absent minded smile on her face.

      Mint for nausea. Muddle the herb with ginger to soothe the nerves.  Rock wouldn’t need anything much either. While Siofra didn’t quite understand Rock or his poison of choice, she assumed he didn’t quite understand her hemlock tea either.  Perhaps, he was tolerant of most poisons too. Siofra made a mental note to inquire after him about this. A pinch of Valerian to calm the nerves. She knew that she and Elonthor needed this tincture to calm the pounding in both their heads.

      If the drinks affected me, then how in the many realms would he even be able to get out of bed.  That sweet poisonable elf. Her hand combed through the ingredient pouches in her kit in search of sugar, her fingers loosely brushing past a bag of pink rosebuds and her face flushed with at the sudden memory of a spell Daphne taught her ages ago.

      Somewhat flustered she pulled out the sugar, to sweeten the medicine and mask the tin-like taste of the valerian. With it popped out a bag of cinnamon. For a moment she paused, trying to remember what Daphne had said about cinnamon years ago. Siofra shook her head as if trying to shake off the thought.  Daphne was a geranium and in a completely different kingdom. Elonthor was nearby right then and needed Siofra and she somehow knew it. Cinnamon tastes great in tea and makes a good stirring implement, nothing more.       Siofra walked to the door stirring the tea and hoping that Elonthor would be pleased to have her company in this moment rather than annoyed at the existence of the world as her books led her to believe he might.  She swung open the door lost in her own thoughts when all of a sudden she ran into him.  Elonthor was at her door and her sudden shock back to reality from her thoughts left her speechless.

      “Good morning, Lady Siofra.  I trust you slept well?”  Elonthor smiled at her with a kindness that slowed her thoughts.  She nodded slowly.

      “Better now that you’re here.” She grinned and opened the door a bit wider to invite him in.  “Tea?”

________________________________

elonthor:

The library in Elegion was home to many books, especially the one upon the higher levels and within the walls of the Castle. He was lucky enough while growing up, to browse the countless texts on past battles that had been carried out, their victories and losses, studies of beasts, other races that existed outside their walls, and among all else, texts that still boggled his mind to this day: those about love, seeking out/finding love.

Most were mere tales, carried to Elegion by wandering bards, none exactly confirmed. But he found them entirely amazing. In all of his years, he never had experienced what love truly was. He’d been told by his mother of very few things when he’d come to her of certain feelings.

“My dear child, it sounds as though you have what they call a ‘crush’,” She would beam at him, and pull him close. “Tell me more about her, I want to know everything.”

She would sit beside him upon his bed as he listlessly went on about the elvish girl in his classes, or one that he had passed upon the cobblestone road to school as he wandered through the market prior, or on an errand. Each time she would listen with a smile. But soon such stories were deemed childish, as he was made to focus upon his military life, and rising in the ranks to join his older brothers and sisters, as well as his mother and father. Love was not commonplace as you grew older, not here anyway. “It is childish, he is no longer a child. Stop filling his head with silly things such as this!” He recalled his father stating rather flatly to his mother, when he arrived home one evening after shopping the markets. “He must focus, and not be blinded by such desires.”

His heart sank, and he grew cold, dismissive. Though still dreamed of change...though the thoughts of love, or even finding someone to fill such a void, were placed far back in the reaches of his mind.

________________________________

He blinks quietly down at Siofra, his form seemingly looming over the tiny female. His brow furrows upon her greeting as his head tilts to the side, as if attempting to understand what she meant by her being ‘better now that he was there’.

“I am...unsure as to what you mean by that…Lady Siofra,” He states quietly, before pursing his lips into a fine line, and peered past her, looking within her room. It seemed rather quaint, and for some reason, the scents and smells within while it reminded him of an alchemist's lab, it also reminded him of home? Which garnered a rather comforting feeling within him.

‘Better now that you are here’, he ran the statement within his mind a few more times, thinking back to the texts he’d read and there was a strange and taken aback look upon his face when it had finally clicked. He blinked rather quickly, looking back down towards Siofra, who still holding the cup of tea up towards him, seemed as though she was standing upon her tiptoes just so that he would take it.

There was a slight hint of pink upon his cheeks as she’d opened her door just a bit more in order to invite him in. Reaching down, he would take the cup from her, as gently as he could manage. “Tea? I-- uhm...that does sound...rather nice, yes. Thank you.” The scent of the tea wasn’t at all common to him as he brought it up to his lips, but she was a cleric after all, so there was no way it would...harm him? He hesitated a moment, and entered her room, taking a sip from the cup.

Honi scampered up the steps directly after his master, entering Siofra’s room, but not after the wolf had attempted to lick Siofra’s face a few times. Prancing happily after his master, he would find a place that was suitable enough for him to lay down, and sprawled out upon the floor. Elonthor peered further about the room, to and fro, eyes quickly scanning the environment before he looked back to Siofra, rather embarrassed. “Ah, apologies.” His ears seemed to droop just a hair, as if he were an animal that had done something wrong.

“Thank you for...the tea, Lady Siofra. If I might ask, what type of tea is it? It is...rather good, and soothing. And another question, if you would allow me to ask? How are you feeling this morning? I pray better than I, as it seems I defecated some of the vile ale I had consumed last evening.” He makes a rather sour face a that, as he recalls the bucket he’d moved out into the hall when he awoke.

[khrow-shinku]

The Great War S2

D&D 5e Campaign The Great War Session 2   Ara follows Rin back to her room. Rin tells Ara to start by dropping her illusion and show her who she is really talking to. Ara obliges, takes a deep breath and then explains. “I’m not a demon. I’m a tiefling, I hid it because I was raised with the belief that a lot of people view tieflings as evil and as such tieflings get a lot of bigotry directed at them and hunted by paladins. So my mother when I was very young taught me how to use the illusion spell to hide my tail and horns. I can’t really use the spell to alter my appearance in any other way, however I’m able to hide just those bits. My mother spent every day training me until I could do it at will and hold it at all times. She was so scared of someone trying to kill me. She did the same thing with herself, hiding her features too and never really talked about our lineage, however she died when I was 7.” Rin’s eyes began to water as she thought about how hard that had to have been. She hugged Ara and said into her ear gently “Oh you poor thing, I had no idea that tieflings had it that rough. I am so so sorry.” Ara responded; “Yeah, I mean sure some tieflings are bad but my mom just owned a bakery and wanted to see people smile from her food. She was just trying to live a normal life.”Rin pulled back, stealed herself and continued to ask questions. Rin asked her; “Did you know anything about those demons and why did you feel  the need to kill that dragonborn so bad, and why did he seem to know you?” Ara took another deep breath, “I don’t know about the demons. No clue why they were here or why the dragonborn killed them and not us. As for why I was so intent on killing the dragonborn, you see my father was a dragonborn from an assassin clan, he left the clan in pursuit of a normal life. He did not like killing, he dreamed of being a world renowned blacksmith. However his clan didn’t accept that. He would be in the family business or die to prevent any leaks of info about them. After he had managed to keep himself hidden for years they finally caught up to him. And yes he was a gold dragonborn so he was good, his clan is good for the most part… and that is why I’ve got the natural affinity for fire magic and thanks to my mother it is amplified. But I digress, I believe he knew who I was because he was from that clan. I have no clue why he was testing us, or why he didn’t kill me. I figured as my father’s child I would have been marked for death if they knew about me. Maybe he was an uncle or cousin? I have no clue. I was going to ask him but he fled. Sorry I don’t have more answers for you than that but this is all I know. Now you also understand, please don’t smite me now.” Rin hugs Ara again and tells her “Don’t be scared. I won’t tell anyone however I believe you should tell them yourself when you're ready. Honesty will be important in helping our group bond as we move forward if we are going to stop this.” Ara for the first time since her mother died felt the most sincere warmth from another person. Sure her father loved her but it was awkward as any father daughter would be. Resnoa while a very nice woman Ara knew Resnoa’s kindness was as much for her own benefit as it was for Ara’s. Rin’s kindness felt different, it felt like Rin wanted nothing in return. For the first time Ara embraced Rin back.  After their long embrace Ara looked at Rin and said, “Well with that out of the way, we need to go and question the bartender and his niece. They bolted out of here fast, a bit too fast.” Rin stops Ara and responds, “Yes we do but not tonight. For tonight we need to sleep. We’ve been through a lot tonight so please sleep for now.” Ara nodded and went back to her room. Everyone else had left to go to bed too except for 2. 

By this time Tinkerman had finished replacing and improving the door downstairs and had a discussion with the knights while the rogue hung out in the corner being all creepy. The Knights thanked Tinkerman for replacing the door, it made things easier on him. He also explained that some mages would be by in the morning to clean up the dead bodies and told them all to get some sleep he would likely need statements from everyone the next day. Tinkerman came upstairs into Rin’s room to find her already in bed and climbed into his bag to do his thing for the night and the rogue went to his room as well. In the middle of the night a large gentleman rents a room and enters the establishment, the sound of his large stature creaking through the halls and vibrating the floor wakes Ara up with a mild orgasm, confused about what just happened, she goes back to sleep.

The next morning the party comes down and has breakfast. At which time they meet their new party member hired by the queen of this empire, not the one who hired them. He introduced himself as Grimgore Shrike, the loxodon cleric.(loxodons have the head and size of an elephant but the body of a man). He explains that he was hired to help them by his queen after she had learned they did not have a cleric in their party. The party quickly realizes that he has 2 volumes, loud and louder. A wandering mute mage, stops in just to eat. Upon hearing the loud boisterous loxodon she puts a dampening spell on him that only lowers the volume of his voice on her way out. After they eat Rin and Ara start asking the bartender questions and find out he was just doing as he was trained to do by the town guard. When trouble happened they were to go get a knight and let them handle it and that was all he knew about any of it. He then had questions of his own like what the hell happened after he went to get the knights. Rin and Ara explain what had happened and the barkeep said his thanks for them trying to defend his bar. The party now turned their attention to something that had been on everyone’s mind since last night, the bag of medallions.  Lolxsis tried to see if they were magical, and while yes they were, there was not a specific spell attached to them more like just a general magical essence attached to it. Ara, not wanting to wait around and take it slow after seeing the one in Lolxsis’s hand glow, just dumped the bag out, and each one almost magically tried to fall closer to one of the people in the room except for 3. They began investigating them. Ara and Tinkerman due to their backgrounds in metals and alloy work could tell that the metals used in the medallions were all naturally occurring in the world however the alloy made with them was unusual. They had never seen the materials combined in this way to make an alloy and this was essentially an unknown alloy. Once each person picked up the one closest to them and examined it, each attached itself to the appropriate person and hid itself in a way that would disguise it. The party not sure what this was about and no way to know anything more at the moment chose to follow up on the only thing they knew right now, the queen here was sick, and a wizard showed up to town around the same time and left shortly after she had fallen ill. 

Once at the queen’s castle, Grim, Tinkerman, and Rin  gather around the queen and do their miracle stuff and heal the queen and remove the poison that was plaguing her. After she woke she asked why all of these people were here and who were they. The party explained themselves and the queen was confused as she hired no cleric. It was at this time her handmaiden walked in and explained she had hired them in her stead as she saw the party had no cleric and thought it best she send them assistance per the agreement she had made with the queen of Urildyr.  The queen of Dustreodan nodded and said “Ok that makes sense well, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m not presentable at the moment to have guests so please leave and come back in an hour, I need time to make myself proper.”  The party leaves the castle and heads outside to kill some time. At this time news is brought to them that the orphanage caretaker requests an audience with them. So Tinkerman, Rin, and Grim head over there while the rest of the party waits outside the castle for news to come back in.

At the orphanage, the patron running it had some questions for them. She was curious what had happened to her, she felt as if she was 5 years younger and her illness was completely gone. She was baffled to say the least, the trio explained that their attempt to heal her worked a bit too well and they actually made her 5 years younger. While yes she was better now, if the illness was of natural causes it could and likely would come back eventually someday. She responded informing them that it was not of natural causes that this pesky wizard who came into town had done something to her so now that he was no longer in town she wouldn’t have to worry about getting it again and now she had 5 years added to her life. She was so overjoyed that she fainted, the trio laid her down in her bed and got her back awake so that the children would not be left unattended when they left to go back to the castle. She thanked them for everything and with that the trio rejoined with the rest of the party at the castle.

The entire party now back together at the castle, they go in and sit down at the royal meeting table to discuss things. However before they get the chance to, there are attackers raiding her castle and they manage to get by her guards but only just. The party quickly springs to their feet, JJJ checks the door and sees 2 men approaching it and steps back and readies his shield. Lolxsis fires a firebolt at the 1st one and kills it. The queen and her handmaiden get behind everyone in the corner. Rin looks back at them and tells them “Don’t be scared, the party will protect them” and runs to the door. Her arrow misses but her firebolt hits and kills the 2nd one. Grim charges through the door and looks down the hall to see 2 more and fires a guiding bolt killing the 3rd and tries to kill the 4th but he dodges out of the way of the cleric’s sacred flames. Ara, looking to get some brownie points with the queen hoping she can talk her way into her bed later, looks back at the queen and says. “Don’t worry beautiful, I’ve got this.” She runs out the door as well and fires a scorching ray so intense it vaporized every trace of the 4th one’s being from existence. She then pulls her finger up to her lips and blows the smoke coming from the tip and says loud enough for the queen and her handmaiden to hear, “No one lays a finger on my girls.” At that time a 5th guy runs through the door and Grim and Ara give their most intimidating looks and he turns around to flee and grim smacks him with a sleep spell as he runs away. The party then gathers at the table again with the queen and her handmaiden and as they do, Ara puts her hand on the queen’s leg and lightly strokes it while winking at her and saying, “Told you I’d take care if it, now let’s continue our discussion, beautiful.”

[missslywild]

Esser’s Excerpt

The adventurers found a small pool beneath the great tree of the Oracle and they’d decided to give something precious to the small body of water in the hopes of getting something even greater in exchange. This is one of many conversations that occurred in the aftermath of that incident.

1/18/2019-1/20/2019

VICTOIRE: Victoire comes to stand by Ha. She takes in Ha's new appearance, with the horns and longer hair, then she folds her arms and looks at the pool.

"So. No more disguise, huh? Is that how you used to look?"

MONK HA: Ha ran her hand over her hair. "Yes. Well, not exactly. Most people saw me with a mask. But the hair and horns were...the most recognizable parts of me. That I couldn't remove. Until I did."

VICTOIRE: Victoire nods. "... How did you handle it? Being a monster?"

Wrong Kind of Monk01/18/2019

"I didn't, really," Ha said. "I just...tried to quit. To leave it."

VICTOIRE: Victoire inhales sharply and grimaces.

"That's, um, good to know," she murmurs.

MONK HA: Ha looks at Victoire. "I have spent the last ten years of my life running. Hiding. I thought it was the only way to keep me from being who I was. But nothing can change my past." She looks over her shoulder, catching sight of Horace and Marigold.

"I can only change my future."

VICTOIRE: Victoire's eyes trail over to where Horace and Marigold are. She smirks, and it doesn't reach her eyes. "It can be hard to run from your past, especially when it'll apparently visit you again."

MONK HA: "Yes. It is something I will have to confront." Ha said, turning back. "I am...not ready. But...it is easier, knowing that perhaps, I do not have to do it completely alone." She gazes at Victoire steadily. "Don't you agree?"

VICTOIRE: The question shakes Victoire from her reverie. "Mm? Oh, yes. Oh. Oh yes." Victoire grins savagely. "It'll be a party."

She laughs. "I would say- I would say, 'don't want a repeat of last time,' but, well."

"No, I'm glad to have you here, Ha. And I'll help you with whatever fight you need fought. And I'll need your help too, when it comes time."

MONK HA: Ha bows her head. "I will be here for you, Victoire."

VICTOIRE: An array of emotions passes over Victoire's face - it almost looks painful - but she settles on an almost genuine smile. "Thanks. Yeah." She toes the ground idly. "... Do you know what 'fateless' means?"

MONK HA: "I would assume... someone who no longer has a set fate. Or a set future. There is no right path. Perhaps... there is no wrong one too."

VICTOIRE: Victoire worries at a thumbnail with her teeth and grimaces. "See, that'd certainly make sense, based on the meaning of the word, y'know. But- but- it's- the illness still has its mark on me. Even if nothing else kills me, that will in a few years."

"Which doesn't sound very 'fateless' to me," she says, face dark.

MONK HA: "Perhaps your illness is not as hard a deadline as you thought." Ha said. "Although I am hard-pressed to agree. I also... do not know how long I will live, now that I have these marks on me," her hand brushed her horn. "Especially if we travel north. But it has been a while. Perhaps both of us will die. Perhaps neither of us will."

VICTOIRE: Victoire eyes the horns. "Yeah, that... Listen, you can't die alright? I couldn't bear to watch that. I- yeah. And- oh. If anybody gives you trouble about your horns-" she pulls out her disguise hat and dons it, transforming to look much like herself, only with red skin, a pair of horns curving back over her head, and a smile of sharp teeth, "-just let me know."

MONK HA: Ha looks down at her and laughs. "That's not...oh, you're just like Marigold," she said, "being a tiefling is...difficult, but not the largest problem. Being the Red Oni..." She trailed off.

VICTOIRE: Victoire cycles through a few more colors - blue, green, purple - just for the fun of it and then doffs the hat. "The Red Oni?" She asks, trying to be casual.

MONK HA: "Ah... That would have been..." she leaned back. "You are...21? you would have been 11. When it ended. Before your time, really," she said. "I do not know if you have heard of the Many Faces?"

VICTOIRE: Victoire narrows her eyes and slowly shakes her head. "Mmmm, don't think I 'ave, no."

"Am I 21? Oh, that's right, I am. Man, I feel so old. Anway, you were sayin'?"

MONK HA: Ha chuckled. "I was...known for many things. And my horns are a very recognizable part of me. Their shape and size... but it has been a long time," she said softly.

VICTOIRE: Victoire looks at the horns for a long moment. That drags. Finally, she says, "Okay, this might be a dumb question, but: could we cut them off again?" She cocks her head to the side. "Did it hurt the first time?"

MONK HA: Ha looked at the pool. "I think that would...be missing the point," she said softly. "It hurt, but I thought it was worth it. I thought it signified some great change." she looked back to Victoire. "But I think, even then, I was missing the point. I was merely... hiding. Like a child. It was merely another mask."

VICTOIRE: Victoire looks almost lost in thought, as she mumbles, "Yeah, that's missin' the point... But then, if the magic of the pool also prevents it... Would that mean the horns are impervious to damage?" She trails off, mumbling something about skulls and battering rams.

MONK HA: Ha blinked. "I suppose that is a possibility," she said doubtfully. "I would not like to test it. What if it is interpreted as denying the gift?" she looks down. "I should not have... it wasn't mine to give, or take, I suppose," she said quietly. "But I had to...I need to protect you all."

She bowed and ground her teeth. "I was so selfish," she said angrily. "Asking about myself. We had a mission, a purpose... and I forgot it. Why? To see if I could fix anything that I ruined years ago? I do not deserve a new fate."

VICTOIRE: Victoire pats Ha on the shoulder. "I know how you feel." Her face darkens again. "I know only a few things I deserve and still I hope none of them come to me." She sighs. "Still, even if the Oracle had told us about the Immortal Mistress, what are the odds it would've actually been helpful?"

Her face sours. "... Wish I knew where Micolash is. He would know how to make sense of this."

MONK HA: "Micolash?" Ha said. "I remember you mentioning that name."

VICTOIRE: "Oh, um." Victoire looks away, embarrassed. "He was, uh, one of the people from my- er- from our s-study group. He- well, he knew how to actually research things and put together the clues. We were kind of... Unofficial co-leaders? Sort of thing."

She sighs. "And then he up and vanished. He was really vague about why, too. Y'know, I'm gettin' real tired of vague hints and people not telling me things."

MONK HA: "Perhaps he knew--or guessed-- the results of your...research?" Ha suggested.

VICTOIRE: Victoire chuckles and smiles even as her eyebrows furrow in anger. "Oh, he knew. He was the main reason I knew. No, the reason why he left..." She waffles a bit and then digs through her bag. "Lemme just read it to you, because he was bein' just, insufferably opaque." She produces a well-worn letter.

She coughs and reads, "'By the time you read this I will already be gone'... 'Out of our control, no matter how'...  'Don't look for me'... Mmm... 'I mean that in no way as a compliment'- yes! Here we are. Ahem. 'We were rash. We were short-sighted. No, not short-sighted. We didn't set our sights high enough.'"

MONK HA: "That sounds like he is planning something worse,"

VICTOIRE: "Right? And then, and then! He has the gall to write, 'I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm sure the confusion is driving you mad. I'd be lying if I said that didn't give me some satisfaction. Not every question should be answered, Victoire,'" she finishes and looks at Ha. "I am going to punch that elf the next time I see him."

MONK HA: "I would too." Ha said, "Although it is probably not the wise counsel I should give."

VICTOIRE: Victoire nods and goes silent as she stashes the letter back in her bag. "... Do you think the Oracle told us everything?"

MONK HA: "No." Ha said. "I expect we must figure out many things on our own."

VICTOIRE: "I think... I think I saw something again. Like back in Uru'Prith," Victoire whispers. "Like with the Immortal Mistress."

MONK HA: Ha blinked. "A vision? At the Oracle?"

VICTOIRE: Victoire nods, eyebrows furrowed, not looking at anything in particular. "It... Wasn't as long as that one. Maybe only a few seconds. It was when he was talking to me. There was a moment where... I can remember him saying- something, to me, but then - it was the weirdest thing - then it was a few seconds before and he said something else. I could've sworn he was goin' to say somethin' else."

MONK HA: Ha frowned. "What do you think he was going to say? What did he say?"

VICTOIRE: Victoire shakes her head. "I... can't remember, but that 'appened right before he mentioned the- the time when the Dream Worm will be weak." Victoire grabs her shoulders, suddenly shivering. She looks at Ha, eyes wide. "I- I don't think it's just bad things that the Dream Worm is trying to prevent."

MONK HA: "You think...the dream worm changed what he would say to you?"

VICTOIRE: "Almost certainly!" She grabs Ha's sleeve, eyes intense, pleading. "How many other things has he changed without me noticin'? What else has he prevented me from findin' out?" Her shoulders slump. "How in the world am I supposed to-!"

"How in the world am I supposed to f-fight that?"

MONK HA: Ha gripped her shoulders. "You are already fighting. You are noticing. And you are telling us what you see." She said. "If he could control everything, he wouldn't need to use you in the first place. And he wouldn't need to try and deceive you."

VICTOIRE: Victoire sways slightly under Ha's grip. "I- yes, you're right." She flashes Ha a shaky smile and says, "There's always hope, right? 'As fateless, no hope is denied you', right?"

MONK HA: Ha smiled. "We are not bound, Victoire. You and I...we have choices."

VICTOIRE: Victoire shakes her head and grins, even though the tears that had started welling up. She grips Ha's arms and says, "Let's see if we can make the right ones, shall we?"

MONK HA: Ha nodded.

VICTOIRE: "Everything's goin' to be fine," Victoire says as she releases Ha and turns back to the pool.

[royal-writer]

Do we need more futurevision, hopes and dreams stories? Probs not but I’m gonna make em anyway hurrhurr

Gotta get my FIX somehow

Gowns sucked. Why did aristocrats insist on these damn things? They were so ineffective and stiff. Chest aching with a tightly strung corset, feet sore in narrow dainty little shoes. You could hardly dare to move your legs more than a shuffle or fear falling from the weight or heavens, show a slip of ankle.

Instead of feeling like a person, you felt like a display doll. Pretty and perfect.

Resisting the urge to breath their her mouth, Essätha nodded simply and politely to the chatty maiden and her escort speaking. Gods she wanted to nibble on the thick stain of lipstick on her mouth, or brush off the damn powder everywhere that made her want to sniffle.

The only satisfaction she got was knowing she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable. Rava seemed to be the only one truly enjoying the sport of showing off in fancy attire. Abernathy pulled off the look with sophistication, but was weary of his movements not to rip the suit dawning him; and Penimra was more arrogant than ever to show off his mannerisms and high-class status.

That left her, Adela, Cackle, and Sul in varying degrees of the most miserable guests at this high-court meeting.

Of course, she would insist upon being the most uncomfortable. At least the other’s weren’t hopping from foot to foot trying not to dance in place to relieve the pressure from aching lack of arch support.

Thank goodness everyone else was there to pay attention as the man gestured, waving them to follow to- somewhere- because she couldn’t pay him a lick of attention in this state. Hopefully taking them somewhere she could sit down. Or- well, maybe not. What if this stiff piece of shit ripped? Wasn’t she supposed to push it down in the back when she sat or something so the flowing bottom didn’t hike up? Christ, this was the worst-

A hand lightly pressed against her lower back. Essätha gave a sideways glance up to the dark eyes peering down at her.

Amon smirked. Briefly.

Ohhh dear. She swallowed, marching forward a few paces to where they had been ushered. The warmth of the guiding hand against her back driving her crazy.

She fell short from the rest; standing back and mostly out of sight as the clip of Amon’s heels came to an abrupt stop. Fingers massaged in to the fabric in slow circles.

Gods, she couldn’t even feel those rough fingers. Who decided having clothes like this was worth it when you couldn’t even appreciate a man’s touch, honestly. Such poor design. Terrible taste.

Clearing his throat, Amon leaned down close to her. The heat of his breath washed over her neck, sending goosebumps down her arms as she shivered.

“I’m going to tear that damn unflattering dress off you as soon as we’re out of here.”

Oh, gods. Her knees were shaking.

Teeth scraped her ear and she choked back a moan, swallowing as he whispered, “I bet I can make you beg just riding my knee. Pelor you smell so good-”

The hand against her lower back slipped down, cupping her ass.  Essätha jumped suddenly, letting out a startled cry of alarm that had heads turning back towards them.

Her face was searing red. Brighter than Sul’s scales as her legs wobbled, an ache between her legs and humiliating dampness between.

She dared a glance at Amon. Standing poised, completely stoic in complexion with arms behind his back.

That piece of shit.

“Everything alright, miss?” the gentleman escort inquired, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes- yes fine I uh- I’m sorry to interrupt I just need to use the restroom-”

“Ooh, by all means. Down the west wing, three doors down on the right side.”

“Right. Thank you-”

Stiffly, she pivoted to hurry as fast as the painfully pinching shoes would allow. A glance back as she made her way to the corner, and most everyone had put their attention back on the chatty couple.

Amon’s were on her, however. Smug and satisfied, before turning his eyes back on the two speakers.

“Filthy fuck,” she hissed to herself as she stomped down the corridor. Enjoying the rise out of getting her aroused and leaving her wanting. At an event she could do nothing about, of course! She couldn’t relieve herself here in this fancy shitdick estate.

Oooh but the very idea was there now. On the fancy beds of silk, on the table, leaning on the expensive sculptures, against the doors and in the bigass tub this place probably had and all over this expensive, luxurious house. Dirty, graphic, lewd images danced in her thoughts in a conga line. One after another, flashing before her mind’s eyes. All the position, all the moaning and groaning, Amon’s fingers digging into her hips and oh gods-

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” she whispered hoarsely, placing a palm to her forehead and smearing some of the powdery makeup.

Ah hell, how much longer did they have to put up with this shit before she could pin that snarky rich man into a bed and have her with him?

LATER…

“Hey, Essätha, where’s the bathroom here again?”

Blankly, the yuan-ti stared over at the elven child.

“How should I know?” she asked. “I don’t live here.”

“But you… had to use the restroom earlier…” Rava trailed, frowning with confusion.

Whoops. She’d forgotten about her little fib to escape Amon. Coughing into the back of her hand softly, Essie shuffled quickly past Ravamora’s skeptical glance to catch up with the other’s.

Gods, maybe she should have tried swiping something when she’d taken off. At least that would have been a good, believable cover. Now she just looked like an idiot avoiding a question.

Stepping past Amon, she caught a quick flash of a grin come and go on his face as she passed.

Smug fuck. He was going to see just where that cockiness lead him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

No way. There was no way.

“Essätha?”

That voice. She knew that voice. It fit the illusion before her perfectly. The manifestation of her imagination; eerie black eyes on a red face with bright blue hair spiked in tall tufts.

When she ran forward, it only took a second after for the tiefling to move too. They collided painfully; forehead smacking together and arms awkwardly clutching clothes.

“Sol!”

“Oh by Shar’s love, Ess’, you’re okay!” Solace sobbed, clinging to her so tightly that her fingers hurt.

“Come here come here, let me look at you! Look at how tall you’ve gotten- look at you oh Shar, oh gosh, you made it you’re okay, you’re okay just look at you!”

Startled laughter bubbled up from Essie’s chest. She reached up, wiping at her tearful eyes as Solace held her away at arms length to inspect her.

“I didn’t know- I had no idea where you’d gone and what happened to you, I only hoped-”

The tiefling’s voice cracked. Her teeth snagged her lower lip as she blinked swiftly, tears collecting in her eyes.

“You look healthy,” she choked. “You look… you look wonderful.”

“And look at you!” Essie announced in heaving, sobbing gasps. “You’re fucking glowing!”

“I know! I got new clothes!”

“You always have new clothes,” Essätha laughed between ugly, chest-heaving sobs.

Hands came up, gently cupping Essie’s face. She blinked past her tears of relief, grinning as Solace pressed her forehead against her own.

“I’m so happy to see you, Ess’. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” Essätha countered, holding her friend tightly.

They stood there, embracing each other tightly for a moment. So different but so much the same.

Essätha realized she was taller than Sol now. But where she had grown in height, Sol had grown where it counted, of course. A narrow waist, wide feminine curving hips, and much more bust. The lucky bitch.

She tugged herself back a bit, smiling eagerly down at her friend.

“Come here, I have some people to introduce you to,” she eagerly stated, looking behind her at the baffled faces staring her way.

Solace appeared briefly confused. She looked behind Essätha, her eyes suddenly lighting up.

“Oh… please!” she gasped. “Yes- please do!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ooohhh Green Bean is just the most darling little baby in the whole wide world!” Solace cooed. “You adopted a kid Ess’, congratulations! I can’t believe you raised a child without having them meet their aunt. I’m crushed, really.”

“Oh shut up,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

“At least she has better looks than her mom.”

Essie jabbed an elbow into the tiefling’s side, narrowing her eyes.

“You know I’m kidding, reptile.”

A drawn out ‘hmm’ escaped Essätha, unable to wipe the smile from her face as she watched Sol stroke the green serpent. Bobbing her head up and down, Green Bean followed the motion of Solace’s free hand as she wiggled in front of the serpent’s face.

Solace leaned back slowly then, cracking her back as she looked around the campsite. She pointed to each individual in turn, speaking softly to Essie as she did so:

“Abernathy, Ravamora, Penimra, Sulhad… Sulha… Sull? Whatever- Adela, Cackle, Ilamin, and Amon?”

“Right.”

“They seem like a lovely bunch,” she observed, watching the large group wander the camp in quiet discussion.

A soft smile formed on Essie’s mouth. She felt a squeeze in her heart as she nodded.

“They are.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out Solace watching her. There was a critical stare upon her; hyper observant.

“What?”

“Look at you,” Sol chuckled softly. “You’re so… happy. You’re glowing!”

A dark hue of red entered Essie’s cheeks.

“Well- I mean- I’ve been traveling with them for a long time- you get used to them-”

“Mmmmhm,” Sol drawled, waving her hand. “So- tell me, what are they like?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get to know them with time,” Essie laughed breezily. “Sir Abernathy’s very kind and very nurturing. He’s pretty much tied with Sul over there in protecting the lot of us. Rava’s a brat I’ll be honest, but maybe I say that because in a few ways, she reminds me of me. Penimra is trash but he’s our trash- and he’s getting a lot better at not being such a judgmental cock.”

“Promising,” Solace observed, laughing softly.

“Heh- yeah. Ilamin’s a young sweetheart; you wouldn’t meet a more caring boy. Adela’s cool; she can swap between being a stick-in-the-mud like Abernathy to the most boisterous, adventurous person. She’s taken by the way- I see that look. So is Abernathy.”

“Cackle over there is loud,” she pointed out, wincing. “Very loud, at times. But she’s a trip. A lot of character. If you want a hug though, there’s no better with all that fluffy down feather.”

A deep sigh escaped her. Watching the bunch as they gave her some space for now with her friend, gathering firewood and preparing what they had on hand for dinner that evening.

Jerking her head, Solace indicated to the last, unmentioned individual of the group.

“What about moneybags over there?” she slyly stated. “Steal anything good off of him? Does he owe you guys a debt?”

Essätha cleared her throat roughly.

“No, I haven’t stolen anything off of Amon… Correction: anything I didn’t give back, anyway.”

“Whoa. You gave something back?”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “He’s… had a lot of things to work through. I felt bad.”

Essie didn’t like the look Sol was giving her. Not one bit. But, gratefully, she turned her gaze back on to Amon with a smile.

“What- what is it?”

“Is he single?” she sang, eyeing the Briarton lord hungrily.

An ugly, foreign feeling fluttered in her stomach.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Oooooh I see how it is,” Solace purred. “Shakking up with moneybags over there, hmm? That’s why he’s here, ey? Can’t get enough of that tail~”

She rubbed her elbow against Essätha’s side teasingly.

Offering a strained, false laugh, she responded faintly, “His name’s Amon, Sol.”

That same, curious look appeared on the tiefling’s face.

“Right,” Sol cued softly. “Amon.”

“Arf!”

“ACK!”

Wheezing, Essätha tried to declaw Solace talon-like grip from her shoulder and side.

“It’s okay, Sol, that’s just Caesar.”

“That dog is huge!” she whined. “Does he bite?”

“I mean, obviously?” Essie laughed. “But you’re good, as long as you don’t force Amon to send him after you. Here, you can touch him. He’s friendly.”

Nervously, Solace reached out to boop the mastiff on the nose. He sniffed curiously, licked her finger, and proceeded to sneeze.

“Oh gross!”

A sharp, wheezing laughter escaped Essätha, gripping her sides as Solace hugged to her side with a pouty face. Tears streaming down her face as Caesar wagged his tail, head tilted with confusion as to what was going on.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She caught Solace staring a lot after that.

That night, while everyone ate, she commented and laughed and told stories with the rest of them. Getting to know Essätha’s party of friends as they got to know a bit more about her.

But the later the hours got, she became quiet. Essie could almost see the clockwork moving in her head. It was the same way the next day, and the day after that. Still polite; answering questions, offering a helpful hand where she could or was asked. Asking her own questions, smiling.

But she seemed worryingly gone from her.

It left Essie feeling confused, and dreadfully sad.

Solace watched without comment or question, most of the time. She seemed most keen to watch when Essie’s orbit moved around Amon’s and his hers; following each other in circled paths unseen that always made their way back towards each other. Eyes leaving longing gazes against each other like the imprints of hands.

The staring made her nervous. However anxious she was though, she refused to bring it up.

Whatever was on Sol’s mind, it would come out with time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’re leaving?”

The pain of the words struck a cord in her soul. All Essätha could do was stare, helpless, her heart aching.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Essie,” she soothed, reaching out for her hands. “I love you plenty, kid. But you don’t need me, you know? I know you’re okay now. I know you’re still out there. I know I can find you again; all I have to do is search for the big superstar and her group of explorers out there, protecting the world.”

“But… why?” Essie asked hoarsely. “You can stay…”

The tiefling gave a shake of her head. “No, I can’t. We’re family, but they’re your family too.”

“Besides,” she went on, giving a bit of a sad smile. “I’m… no good for you like they are. You live a different life with them. They make you better. Having me around would complicate things in the end. It’s better if I’m just a visitor to the photos, not part of the album. You have your own life now; so different from the one we had when we were children. I can’t impeach on all of this. You’ve changed but maybe I… maybe I haven’t changed enough.”

“Sol, there’s no reason to go. They like you; you don’t have to-”

A finger touched her mouth gently, silencing her.

“It’s my choice,” she stated, firmer this time. “And I’m sticking with it.”

The hand dropped from her mouth as Sol sighed, smiling. “It’s not ‘goodbye’, Ess’. It’s ‘see you later’.”

“Feels like a goodbye,” she muttered.

“I know, reptile. I’m sorry.”

They stood there, awkward in the prolonged silence. The sound of crickets chirping and early morning dew on leaves, dropping to the ground, a louder echo in the silence than their breathing.

“What are you going to do, about that Amon fellow?”

“E… Excuse me?”

Solace looked up at her, a serious complexion now.

“Ess’, when have you ever bothered learning a lover’s name before?”

“That’s not-”

“How long has moneybags been traveling with all of you?”

“Well, since we started-”

“How long is this going to last?”

“Gods, Sssol, I don’t know!” Essie hissed, her face red. “It’s just good sex, okay!”

She regretted the words instantly. They burned in her throat; made her heart instantly throb with pain. It was an ugly, hurtful lie and even if he wasn’t around to hear it, the fact she’d even voiced it was damaging to her soul.

But that’s all it was. That’s all it was ever going to be.

There was a shape of pity in Solace’s face. She spoke softly then: “I’m sorry.”

Essätha stared at her silently. She didn’t have anything to respond with. Even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could voice it without her voice cracking.

“I better be on my way,” Sol cut in, glancing off to the side. “Wouldn’t want your family to think I’m kidnapping you.”

“You’re family too, Sol. You said so yourself.”

“I’ll find you again, don’t worry.”

The tiefling leaned in, giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Stay safe.”

“R-… Right,” Essie muttered. “You too, demon spawn”

Shouldering her bag, Solace gave a wink. She turned to take a few steps, sighing. Her eyes glanced over her shoulder.

“I’d watch out for that lord, Essie,” she said gently, a small smile. “I think he might be a criminal.”

“W-What?” Essätha babbled, confused.

Solace turned away, walking down the trail. Her voice carried as she sang out the next phrase:

“I think he might have stolen something very precious from you, dear.”

The next words were muffled, and Essie couldn’t make them out as Sol stated to herself while moving away, “I just hope he decides to offer a replacement just as grand for what he’s taken.” (If he didn’t, Sol mused venomously to herself, she could always find him and gut him for hurting Essie’s soft pure heart.)

The words rang in Essie’s skull, but even as she watched Sol’s figure grow smaller and smaller as she headed over the dips of the road, she couldn’t make any sense of them.

Tiefling bullshit riddles. What the fuck did that even mean?