#3E-Curiosity

[thydungeongal]

Everytime I'm reminded of 5th edition I just kinda die on the inside because jesus lord I want to see people even just acknowledge other games exist. I have so many books of big and small RPGs in my collection and I never get to see people talk about them with the same autism I do.

And it didn't used to be like this. When I started playing RPGs D&D was more like a historical curiosity. Then D&D 3e happened and it was suddenly the elephant in the room, and it's only become more so with 5e. It makes me sad when people clearly want more out of RPGs but have let D&D the brand capture their imaginations to such an extent that they can't even look past the obvious limitations of D&D as a system.

This is why I keep talking about how we shouldn't let D&D colour our expectations of what RPGs are. It's literally severely limiting to the way people think about what sort of things can happen in a game and what the process of play should look like.

[unknownhomosapien]

Wanna add some more context to reverse!au for better understanding

(Added more sickness to his face cus I still like trickstarbrave's art teehee)

Basically all canon events till "foul murder" is...canon. It wasn't his will to become a god, but Nerevar's mind got corrupted in some ways because of heart of lorkhan, so he ready to use god powers to reach his goals. His ways to deal with tribunal are much more sinister, so he as well as madman.

Somehow even Almsivi thinks that it was Dagoth Ur who has got awakened (very tough awakening though). Nerevar using this legend as profit. Everyone seems to believe that Nerevarine prophecy is true, even ashlanders. Wonder how he deceived them.

If Dagoth Ur using the magic to fight, Mora Ind using his strength. Don't be fooled by his exhausting look, this man is able to cut a massive rock with trueflame in the first try as well as crush your head with one hand.

He is using the magic, still. Prostetics looks advanced, but has bad mobility, plus constant pain, so, he learnt how to levitate and use it effectively in the attacks. Also, Nerevar somehow developed resistance to magic, and its not easy to beat him only with the spells.

His god voice echoes, but can change depending on mood. Main difference that in moments of anger it echoing in higher tone, almost cutting the ears.

Mora Ind has his own followers, despite having sixth house as source to threaten people. He is not fully controlling them though. Despite being blind and using raw magic, Nerevar is able to "see" through eyes on his hands, and through his followers. This is part of the deal: they're serve him with no hesitation, him is protecting them from corprus (except sixth house sleepers), saving their will, but has right to take control whenever he wants. And he has much more influence on dissident priests. But only few loyal knows who is truly sitting in the red mountain.

Godryn is quite weak, despite being tall, so he is highly counting on his charisma, magic abilities and alchemy skills. He is suffering from rosacea, migraines and epilepsy, thought last one comes from migraines and happens in the moments of high stress, and has uncontrollable and incurable magic origin. Blessing and a curse in the same time.

This man loves to be good looking and morning routines are his best friends. Only when being alone, he allows himself to look sloppy.

He is not a Nerevarine. How do you think he'll become one if Nerevar is alive? But Godryn surely gonna doubt tribunal much and make his own investigation because of curiosity. Will meet Almsivi eventually.

Anarenen gonna have main part in his story and will become some kind of love interest before meeting Nerevar? Anyways, they both slay queens in boring Ald'ruhn with dumbass Redoran around.

He gonna be suspicious and paranoid in the first chapters. Godryn is not a reckless one, and tryin to make decisions with thinking twice.

Godryn is 24 years old and born in 3E 403. He is an adult, but very unexpirience in live, so, there are gonna be some dumb choices. Recognising himself as Voryn will help in some ways, but dunmer is not gonna BE Voryn. He doesnt wanna be "someone" except himself. He tired of that.

[liz-lil-oc-corner]

Soarinure the dorm of persistence

Founded after the persistence of the brave adventurer. Students from this dorm tend to have a natural curiosity for their surroundings and follow through that curiosity by trying or researching whatever catches their eye having a thirst for some type of adventure.

Cora Risan (Twisted from Charles Muntz)

Grade/Class: 3E no. 30

Birthday: November 27th

Age: 19

Height: 166 cm

Dominant Hand: right

Homeland: Glowing Falls

Club: Research club

Best Subject: Animal languages

Hobbies: Camping

Pet Peeves: Getting interrupted 

Favorite Food: Steak

Least Favorite Food: American biscuits 

Talent: Writing

Zoey Park (Twisted from Alpha)

Grade/Class: 3A no. 20

Birthday: April 15th

Age: 18

Height: 173cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Shaftlands

Club: Baseball

Best Subject: History of Magic

Hobbies: Swimming

Pet Peeves: Lack of common sense

Favorite Food: Burgers

Least Favorite Food: Caesar Salad

Talent: Photography

Lola Mutt (Twisted from Beta)

Grade/Class: 2B no.05

Birthday: January 13th

Age: 17

Height: 171 cm

Dominant Hand: left

Homeland: Shaftlands

Club: Baseball

Best Subject: P.E.

Hobbies: Roller skating

Pet Peeves: Small spaces

Favorite Food: Chicken Nuggets

Least Favorite Food: Lemons

Talent: Sports

Sophie Trail (Twisted from Gamma)

Grade/Class: 1C no.01

Birthday: March 24th

Age: 16

Height: 171 cm

Dominant Hand: left

Homeland: Queendom of Roses

Club: Soccer

Best Subject: flying Hobbies: Playing VR games

Pet Peeves: Wasting food

Favorite Food: Croquettes 

Least Favorite Food: Black licorice

Talent: Paintball

[darklordazalin]

Azalin reviews: Darklord Bluebeard

Domain: Blaustein Domain Formation: 643 BC Power Level: 💀 ⚫⚫⚫⚫ (1/5 skulls) Sources: Domains of Dread (2e), Darklords (2e), Ravenloft Player’s Handbook (3e), VRGTR (5e)

Bluebeard is the Darklord of Blaustein within the Sea of Sorrows. His tiny island is made up of his castle (creatively named “Bluebeard’s Castle”) and a single village. 

Bluebeard was an ugly yet charming man with enough wealth to offset his repugnant features. Nowadays, I don’t believe his blue facial hair would really amount to such disdain, but one never knows. Though even if his beard was a more “natural” color, it is his personality, or lack thereof, that most truly distain. 

Bluebeard is from an unknown land and who’s distrust and pettiness lead him to kill every single woman who agreed to marry him. Why did they keep on agreeing to marry someone who’s wives continually died or went missing? Well, he was said to be a kind and just ruler, which led many to overlook his otherwise glaring faults. How could such a seemingly benevolent lord murder all of his wives? I imagine that’s what his people asked one another as they heard screams echoing down from his castle…

Bluebeard would marry a young woman and expect absolute loyalty and obedience from them. Trust me, regardless of how powerful you may be, this is not a realistic expectation to have in one’s spouse. To test their obedience, after a month of marriage, Bluebeard would go on a trip and give his wife a number of keys that opened various doors in the castle. He told them they could go anywhere they wished, except a small room on the top floor of a tower. This room was locked with a golden key and he forbade his wife to go within.

Each woman he married let their curiosity win over their obedience and used the golden key to enter the room. What they found within was a room stained in blood and the dead bodies of Bluebeard’s previous wives suspended on hooks hanging from the ceiling. Though, I suppose his first wife just found an empty room. That must have been very disappointing, though preferable over what the other wives found. The golden key, when used to open the door to this room, became stained with blood. No one but Bluebeard could remove the stain.

Upon returning from his trip, Bluebeard would demand the keys from his wife and upon seeing the blood stain on the golden key, he would feign disappointment, kill his bride, and hang her in the room with the rest of his dead wives. After eight or so wives, Bluebeard was claimed by the Mists. 

Our tormentors were so kind to gift him with some of the most ridiculous boons. He is no longer exceedingly physically ugly, he can erase his misdeeds from the memories of his subjects, and every single one of those subjects, including his dead wives, are fanatically loyal to him. Now, this ability of his to change their minds only works on those native to Blaustien, so it is no where near my own abilities and something I managed to achieve on my own. Oh and he’s a living lie detector. Handy. I’d like to have him interview a certain vampire someday. 

At night, his wives freely roam his castle as spectres and show their husband their devotion, but he rebuffs them, disgusted with their undead forms. Now whenever Bluebeard courts a woman from Blaustien, they take on the appearance of one of his wives in their undead form, a smirk always upon their face. No one else sees this and it seems to only affect women native to Blaustien...which, naturally, leads Bluebeard to seek out wives in other realms, though their fate is always the same. A golden key, a room of dead brides, and another murder.  

In Van Richten’s new guide, Blaustien is no longer considered its own Domain and Bluebeard’s wives have overthrown him and entertain him with endless torment. Perhaps the Dark Powers decided the woman had suffered enough at his hands and it was now his turn to endure a true punishment? I would venture that none of his boons exist any longer. Perhaps they have transferred to his countless wives.

Despite all of the boons the Dark Powers once granted him, Bluebeard was always just a petty, distrustful, mortal man. A mere insect to be swatted away and a Darklord who cannot even control the Misty borders that surround his so-called Domain. I am reluctant to give him a single skull.

[joonjii]

Yo! I'm curious about your OC, Arstul. Care to share some details about him? Would love to know more.

Absolutely <D I have a google doc full of bits about him but I’ll keep it smaller here:

As of ESV, he is 322 years old. He uses magic to keep himself young.

He is 6'7".

His father (Irindalos) was from a Pyandonean fleet invading Alinor during the War of the Isles. As the city was (presumably) under lockdown, his father swam ashore in an attempt to infiltrate the island. He found himself in the home of an Altmer scholar, Arquen. Fortunately for Irindalos, knowledge meant more to Arquen than his death, and she agreed to keep him safe in exchange for information on the Maormer. Eventually, the two fell in love. Arstul was born in 3E 312, two years after the Pyandonean invasion.

Arstul and his father had to remain in the home under any circumstance, preferably in the cellar. They did this to avoid seizure.

His father taught him the fundamentals of serpent magic and defense, while his mother taught him how to read and write. His love of rocks and shells was also found when she would bring in geological elements to study.

When Arstul was 12, he and his father were discovered due to a tip (Arstul had been seen in a window) given to a Thalmor inquisitor. Arstul’s parents didn’t survive. At the scene, Arstul was handed over to Commander Carlindil, who, in a glint of morality, spared Arstul’s life. For the next 30 years, Arstul was a servant to Carlindil. Arstul was handed over to a Thalmor wizard, Thyrellius, who conducted a case study on him. After Thyrellius had hurt Arstul one too many times, Arstul killed him. He returned to Carlindil's home, killed him, and took anything of value and fled Alinor. He stowed away on a ship headed for Cyrodiil, where he stayed until the Oblivion Crisis.

During his time in Cyrodiil, he studied with the Mages Guild and found work as a staff carver/ enchanter. He lived with Rindir.

He fled to Skyrim following the Oblivion Crisis.

Likes: Mudcrab and Eel, Ginger Beer, the sea, shells and rocks, warm furs, riding on horse back, and singing. He's fond of refined cities like Whiterun and Solitude. Despite his trauma, he loved Alinor.

Dislikes: Shepherd's Pie and Apple Cabbage Stew, light beers, wind, cold climates, two-handed weapons, talking to strangers, and running.

Some other tidbits...

He suffers from post-traumatic stress and paranoia

He has bad knees, so he prefers swimming and riding on horseback to walking. It's easier on his joints.

In the Mages Guild, he mastered illusory magic and learned to change his skin color. That way, people wouldn't constantly point out why he "looked so blue." It ended up being useful after the White Gold Concordat was signed. He changes his skin color to that of an Altmer when he is in populated areas.

Thyrellius gave him the slit on his right ear.

He's allergic to shrimp. No, I'm not kidding.

He's asexual and demi-romantic.

Some of that was dramatically cut down, but he's definitely still in development. Hope that satisfies your curiosity!

[pissfizz]

No because. What if the reason toya was in 3E was not because he struggled in school but out of spite? He intentionally failed tests and let his grades drop as a way to rebel against his fathers expectations. He is only just now learning what it means to not be under his thumb, going by any means necessary to not be anything like what his fathers wants. But toya is so, so smart and korosensei can SEE that, but he just refuses to pull his grades back up. Every test has the correct work but the wrong answer, worksheets get turned in blank. And he takes it upon himself to remind toya that to be independent of his father, he doesn’t have to sacrifice everything. He can still strive for things, he can still have talent in these fields. It’s what he does with them that matters. Will he use them to be on his fathers good side, to be vaguely acknowledged and praised for falling into his mold of an ideal son? Or will he use them for himself? To weaponize them, to take advantage of what he’s good at. He’s got an amazing brain and such expansive curiosity, who says he can’t use those things AGAINST his father instead of for him? He can rise to the top, even without following his fathers path. It is his life and he doesn’t have to destroy it to get away from what his dad wants. Toya doesn’t have to push these things away just because they were part of his father, rather he should embrace them, and use them to his advantage. This could even extend to music too. He doesn’t have to run from music just because it was something his father tortured him with, he can make it his own, use his skills for something that is unique to him, thus jumpstarting his in game arc. I don’t know I think about this so much this is barely scratching the surface

[not-your-night-mother]

Beginnings: Martin and Alysia (full+bonus ending)

*This is Nsfw Minors do not interact*

16th of Sun's Dawn 3E 419: The feast of sanguine.

Deep within the forest near Skingrad, Alysia Jade walked with fear and curiosity coursing through her veins. Her bare feet broke branches with each footfall. The two moons hung high over her head, lighting the twisting path deep into the black wood of Cyrodiil. It was a week after her 16th name day, and she desperately searched for an escape from her life. She had heard from friends in the mages guild the near-mad revelers drinking and fucking in the name of the Deadric Lord of Revelry. She was nearing the cult now; part of her knew these people, in this place, could be her way out. Her mother had told her that night that she was to marry the cruel son of a low noble in Hammerfell the next fortnight. She had refused the offer and had taken, by foot, to the forest. She was closer now; She could smell the thick scent of smoke and wine, and through the trees, she could see the bright blaze of fire in the distance and hear the faint shouting and music of revelers. Their shadows danced through the trees like ghosts as she ventured closer and closer to them. The tree line broke into a large clearing, where a crowd of bodies danced and swayed in delight around a tremendous blazing fire set before the feet of the statue of Sanguine himself. Upon Breaching the treeline, She was immediately immersed in a strange world of vulgar hedonism. All around her, bodies swayed and moved in orgiastic delight. Some were utterly naked or wore only flowers wreathing their heads, while others were fully dressed. Laughter and music flooded her senses. The smell of wine and heavy drink hung so thick in the air that breathing seemed intoxicating. A plump young woman clothed in only wreaths of flowers draped her in a chain of dried flowers and pressed against her lips a bottle of the finest cyridiilic brandy Alysia had ever tasted. The woman only laughed and took her by the wrist, dragging her into the mass of bodies dancing and kissing and drinking and fucking.

She was immediately overwhelmed, drowning in the strange new sensations around her. The lines between her senses blurred, and she lost herself to the crowd. Hands touched her all over, and drink passed her lips over and over. Her mind swam with loose thoughts like lucid dreams. She could not think, could not breathe, could not stand. Her knees buckled beneath her. Her knees hit the ground, and pain shot up her legs. And the whole world began to spin. The ground rushed to meet her. A rough hand seized her by the arm, pulling her from the sea of bodies. She looked up fearfully. Part of her was terrified of who or what had caught her. Her eyes were met by the sight of a naked young man washed in the firelight, glistening with sweat. His long brown hair was a perfectly chaotic mess. He was a little older than she was. He looked like a god, lean and youthful, dressed in nothing but gold jewelry and firelight, with bright blue eyes that burned through her despite them being severely bloodshot. He was a beautiful and terrifying god.

“Are you alright, little one?” he asked, pulling her to her feet. His voice seemed almost amused by her state. She flushed at his state and avoided meeting his eyes. He stood unashamed and relaxed in his gold jewelry with a great staff in the shape of a rose resting on his shoulder.

"I-I'm fine.." She nodded, Turning her head away from him, trying to avoid the nakedness of his body and find the words to thank him.

“Do you have a name, girl?” He said, laughing at her perceived innocence. He draped himself over a lounging chaise near the statue of Sanguine.

She nodded and followed him. Standing before him, he looked even more divine than the statue of the deadric prince of debauchery he lay before. Alysia could feel her heart drop into her stomach. As she began to piece together who he was. From the Rose Staff to how he carried himself with absolute authority, she could see He was the Champion of Sanguine. She had been so sure that she wanted this, but now standing before this man, this living god laid out before her, she was unsure. Some of her wanted to flee to run home and throw herself at her mother's feet, but in the same breath, she knew she couldn't go back; she needed to see this horrible plan through. She steeled herself before him, trying hard not to show any fear or hesitation.

“My name is Alysia Jade…."She forced herself to meet his cold blue eyes. His lips turned up into a damning smile, but those eyes remained fixed on her.

"And what can I do for you, Miss Alysia?"

she swallowed her fear and decided then and there that she could not turn back. She would not turn back.

"I want to join the cult of Sanguine." her eyes did not leave his. He raised an eyebrow and laughed at her. Her face burned with embarrassment, but she refused to look away from him. she would not. No, she could not back down now. His laughter faded as his eyes met hers again. He seemed almost predatory, like a cat toying with a mouse.

"What could you possibly have to offer, Sanguine or me?" his words dripped with honey and condescension that sent chills over her skin. She steeled herself again. Realizing in full just how out of her depth she was. She stood before the Champion of a god in nothing but her night dress. She had nothing to offer him. No wine or brandy, no gold or jewels. She had nothing. She was a maiden of 16 with nothing to her but the clothes on her back and looking down, this blue-eyed God sent chills down her back. Her body trembled at the thought of what would happen to her. She knew her original plan. She knew exactly what she had to offer, but she dreaded what might happen if she offered it. The only thing she had to her person. The only thing that would guarantee her mother couldn’t marry her off to the first noble with enough money to buy her family out of destitution. If she went through this, her body would have no value to any noble. She weighed her options over in her mind before making her decision. His blue eyes burned into her, and she made her decision.

“I can give you myself,” she spoke boldly. The man’s eyes widened with surprise, and she saw him falter momentarily. She took small pleasure in taking him off guard. He regained himself at the exact moment, and a broad smile spread across his face.

“You’re not serious, my sweet.” he purred, moving from reclining to sitting, his body language spoke of challenge, and his eyes set her ablaze, and she felt a strange sense of spite replace her fear. She steeled her nerves. She gathered her skirts up and hitched them above her knees, and with all the courage she could muster, she took three bold steps to stand before him. He looked up at her and leaned back. She moved awkwardly to throw a knee over him and moved into his lap, hitching the fine silk of her night dress up around her waist. She let the fabric fall and bare skin press against bare skin as she leaned into him.

“I…can assure you,” she tried to sound as sure of this as she felt, “I am dead serious.”

Again he faltered, and his cold eyes softened; she felt heat rise between her thighs as his body betrayed him, and his cock grazed the bare skin of her thigh. Her face burned hot as his hands danced delicately at her hips.

“Martin.” His voice was soft and almost sounded far away. She was stunned. He paid no attention to the debauchery surrounding them; it seemed as though it was just him and her.

“W-what…” her voice shook with nervousness. His eyes met hers, a lovely shade of blue cast with gold in the light of the blazing fire. They reminded her of the waters of Niben Bay at sunset when the blue waters shimmered gold with the light of the dying sun.

“My name,” he said, hands gently running around her hips, “I thought it only fair that you should know.”

“Oh…” her cheeks flushed, and they moved closer to one another “thank you…Martin…”

Martin drew her into him and pressed a soft kiss against her neck. Her breath hitched, and the meeting of her thighs stirred with want. She felt him twitch against her as his gentle hands hardened and his grip on her hips tightened. A soft groan escaped her as he pulled her closer to him still. She could feel his cock press against the heat of her body. She moved to take him into her, but his grip on her hips tightened, stopping her from moving. She softly groaned as he held her on the edge of no return.

“Not yet, my sweet.” he teased as his kisses trailed her neck and to her soft lips. He went swiftly from soft to hard, leaving deep purple marks against her neck and throat. He nipped at her lips, and she groaned against his mouth as he deepened the kiss. He took her moan as an invitation, and a hand slid down from her hip to between her legs. Teasingly he parted her lower lips, and she gasped as he slid a finger into her. A sound escaped her lips, and he laughed softly against her as he broke the kiss, leaving her reeling. she buried her face into his shoulder.

“My Gods,” he murmured into her ear, curling his finger. “You seem to be enjoying this.”

She let out a soft moan against his skin, leaning into him. He moved inside her again, another teasing finger, and sounds escaped her that she never knew she could make. He kept her like this for a while. Moving inside her; teasing her; praising her; whispering things to her, she had never imagined a man saying; beautiful, awful things. If he were a God, she would've fallen to her knees and worshiped him. She moved her hips with him, trying to bring herself closer and closer to the edge. He quickened his pace, and she shuttered in both body and mine. She clung to him now. Holding fast against him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. She was nearing the edge of sweet cataclysm. Suddenly he stopped. She was reeling. She could not speak, only letting out a soft whimper as he stroked her hair gently, whispering to her sweet assurances.

“Hush, my sweet.” He whispered softly in her ear, "You’ve done so well for me…."

He took a moment's pause and met her eyes. "May I?" his voice was gentle and soft.

"of course…" she nodded, and without hesitation, he seized her by the hips and brought her down onto him with fierce urgency. Another primal sound escaped her mouth. She was his now. And he was hers. He took her with an aching urgency pounding hard into her. Each thrust sent her shuttering. She moved with him, trying again to move closer and closer to the edge. She felt his hand slip between her tights as he touched her. She shuddered as he teased her, fucking her as intensely as he had before. She gasped and clung to him, pressing her forehead against his. He praised her again and whispered softly to her.

“That’s it, my sweet…come for me….” His words edged her closer and closer to sweet oblivion. But it was his eyes that sent her over; the deep blue burned through her as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Though she had only just learned his name, it spilled from her lips over and over again as she broke apart around him. A moment later, he shuttered into her, going deep and holding her against him. In the aftermath, she realized that most of the revelers had passed out around them. He looked down at her soft, virtually naked body with half-opened eyes. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he held her against him. Softly he kissed her forehead, and for the first time, Alysia felt like she belonged.

“Well,” Martin smiled down at her. And pressed another kiss on her forehead. “Welcome to the cult of sanguine, my sweet….”

She nuzzled into his chest before drifting off to sleep to the sound of his heart beating. For the first time in her life, Alysia felt strangely safe in a stranger's arms.

She awoke to the light of the morning sun breaking the dawn. She and Martin were curled up on the chaise lounge. She was surprised to find him holding her against him. Gently, she untangled herself from his arms; she had expected this to last until dawn. She expected to wake and find him gone… yet there he was.

She took a moment to survey her surroundings; it seemed like most of the revelers were still unconscious, and the few that were conscious moved with the unsteadiness of a hangover. Slowly her eyes fell back to him, her new companion? Now in the light of Dawn, everything was different, the mystery of the night before was gone. He was now a young man, and nothing else. no longer was he the god she had given herself to the night before. She didn’t seem to mind that though.

In fact, part of her liked the young boy that lay sleeping beside her. He was very beautiful, she thought. He was young, probably in his twenties, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun. His hair fell in beautiful, brown waves that cascaded down around his face and across the pillow. Instinctively she reached to brush a stray strand from his face. He stirred, and his eyes opened, a flash of that same intense blue, He smiled Before speaking.

“You’re still here!” He spoke with a soft excitement “I thought you would leave me before dawn…”

She blushed as he reached up and brushed his fingertips over her cheek, as though he needed to assure that she was real, and not a figment of imagination. She cleared her throat.

“Funny,” she mused gently, running her fingers across his chest. “I thought the same of you…”

He laughed softly, taking her hand in his, and bringing it to his lips.

“ I wouldn’t do that…” he whispered

“I know…” she murmured almost to herself. It was starting to Dawn on her. Just how strange the entire situation was… this man was a complete stranger to her; yet he was kind and gentle when she needed him to be. some part of her trusted him, despite having only just met him. She knew she did not love him, but she did like him. His company was pleasant, and she welcomed it.

She wondered what this meant for her now. Would she stay here with this man she barely knew? Would she return home disgraced? Part of her worried that her mother would come looking for her…She must’ve knit her brow or made some face in her thoughts because Martin took her hand.

“Are you alright Alysia?”

“I’m alright,” she sighed and looked away from him. “ I'm just nervous, I guess I’m unsure of what’s going to happen…after last night…”

she felt him squeeze her hand. It was a strange comfort, one she was appreciative of. He took his time before speaking and spent a long while just holding her hand, silently reassuring her.

“ Well,” he began, “If you’ve nowhere to go, I wouldn’t mind the company. assuming you don’t get cold feet over the cult dealings…”

she thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Thus began her interesting relationship with Martin. At first, she spent only the evenings with him, spending most of her days with other members of the cult, dancing, and drinking. only coming home to fall into bed and do it all again the next day. Some nights they would share the bed spending all evening tangled up in the sheets together, other nights they slept separately, one of them would sleep in the bed, the other on sofas or chairs. Eventually , they would become friends, not lovers but friends. Alysia noticed early on that he took no other women into his bed but her, and whether intentional or not, she did the same taking no man but him. Slowly the nights that they slept separately became few and far between. slowly he would start calling her My sweet or my love… Slowly the two of them would become friends and lovers… from that point they stayed at each other's side through thick and thin…. At least they did until it all came crashing down.….

I will be writing more about how Alysia and Martin got to this point and what happens after this. So ✨stay tuned✨

[thydungeongal]

This is all largely besides the point. Yes, the OGL has also been of benefit to some other publishers. That does not mean that we shouldn't be critical of its other effects, especially when Ryan Dancey, one of its main architects, is on record as saying that one of its main goals was to create an ecosystem that all feeds into D&D, something which has clearly happened.

Even though I was in the hobby only for a few years before D&D 3e hit, I remember there being much more variety in terms of games. In fact, while D&D has globally always been the big dog, here in Finland it was mostly a curiosity, and even on a global scale it no longer had such a stranglehold on the hobby in the nineties as it does today.

The OGL has not been all bad for everyone, but it has clearly contributed to WotC's near-monopoly as was one of its stated goals as laid out by one of its architects. It has also led to the homogenization of RPGs as a medium, which I think is extremely demoralizing as someone who cares about game design. Many designers are actively hurting themselves by forcing genuinely cool RPG ideas into the model of a d20-based adventure game without considering all the baggage and assumptions they are bringing in.

The OGL and its wider effects on the hobby can and should be treated with nuance, otherwise we're just doing WotC's marketing for them.

I say a lot of stuff on this blog about "play another game" and I really want people to understand what I mean about that. monopolies are bad. DnD has, through marketing and business decisions and luck and capital, dominated the entire hobby in a way that no other creative genre has ever seen before.

[zawazawanightmares]

Sombra & Lana, Wolf-Girl

You, Sombra (Overwatch), are connected to Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ] Your partner selected the 18+ server. Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Sombra (Overwatch): /starter

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: https://img3.gelbooru.com/images/36/2b/362b27f375d3c29e7f50d595267f178f.png https://img3.gelbooru.com/images/dc/df/dcdfe9cf8a318958ebaa1bca6e075f9f.jpg https://img3.gelbooru.com/images/5d/3e/5d3e4b41409de8740c6ad56d38eb928e.jpg

Sombra (Overwatch): Hey there, lupa.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Hm. Don't often get called in Spanish. Nice change of pace, though.~

Sombra (Overwatch): Really? I guess you don't go South of the Border often. You would get your ears rung off with all the men calling you.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Haaaah. When will they learn that I'm not interested in them? Probably never. Or at least till I have a collar around my neck signifying I'm taken.

Sombra (Overwatch): How about a chip in your neck that beeps when you're near someone else instead?

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Hah. What, like a stray?

Sombra (Overwatch): Like you're my pet.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: O..oh.. I see. That's quite the forwards offer for having met me literal minutes ago~

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: I guess you're the take what you want sort of woman, hm?

Sombra (Overwatch): Or just ruin it so no one can use it. Are you interested in either?

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Mh. Can't say you don't have my curiosity, Senorita.

Sombra (Overwatch): Mmm...I'd think I'd like it better if you called me maestra. *steps closer*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *Slight blush, pulling self into your arms.* As you wish, then, maestra.

Sombra (Overwatch): *smirks, brushing her finger across your lips* I need a name to forget, lupa.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *Softly, gently nibbling your finger.* Why bother.~? You can give me a better one.~

Sombra (Overwatch): Then how about...Mi Vida? *cups her chin*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: How heartwarming~ *A smirk dances across my lips, softly nuzzling into your hand.*

Sombra (Overwatch): I hope that's not the only thing I can warm. *leans forward to gently kiss you*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *Softly, gently kisses back, letting you lead the kiss.*

Sombra (Overwatch): *continues for a few seconds before pushing her tongue in, swirling it around yours*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *Softly, submissively allows you to dominate the kiss, before breaking away with a pant.* Mmh, you're going to domesticate me if you kiss this well all the time, maestra.

Sombra (Overwatch): That's the idea, vida. *tugs at her top with a finger* Can't let you into the house without a check-up first...

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A soft snicker.* Mmh, nor without a chip, collar, and new name, hm~? unless you really mean that I'm your world already.~

Sombra (Overwatch): Of course! I know what I want when I see it. I'm smart like that. *tugs your top down in a quick motion, removing her fingr from own shirt to expose your chest* Oh my...you are hiding some tetas from me!

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A slight whine leaves my lips, a huff as my breasts spill out of my top.* And you're complaining~?

Sombra (Overwatch): Never, beautiful... *Hums as she cups your breasts, kneading your nipples between her fingers* We got a healthy girl on our hands here...

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Hhnff.. *A soft whine as I bite my lip, turning my head away.*

Sombra (Overwatch): You mind if I have an oral test? *leans down to take one of your nipples in her mouth, softly suckling on it*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: O-Of course not.. *I gasp, shuddering at the feeling of your warm lips, my nails slightly digging into your shoulder.*

Sombra (Overwatch): Good girl... *keeps sucking while moving a hand under your pants, rubbing your pussy directly*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Hhuff.. what ifff we get caught..? *I complain, halfheartedly, slightly pushing my hips into your manicured hand.*

Sombra (Overwatch): People believe what they want to believe...give me a day and everyone will say it's a hoax. *pushes a finger inside your wet slit while kneeling down to unzip your pants* Trust me, vida...I'm magic.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *I shudder a bit, letting out a moan, feeling myself get left in nothing but my panties.* I will.. I trust you..

Sombra (Overwatch): Smart girl...gonna need a better treat for you later. *removes her finger before she pulls down your panties with her teeth; kneels up to drag her tongue through your folds*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A shudder runs through me, hips buckling a bit as I struggle to stand, nodding softly.* Mmh, and I'll accept anything you give me.. diosa.

Sombra (Overwatch): Mmm...I like your voice when you call me that. *continues to lap at your moist pussy, reaching behind to grip your ass*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A sharp moan, as you continue to lap at me, pushing into you.* Diosa.. Diosa, please.. I'm so damn close..

Sombra (Overwatch): Diosa sabe, vida... *begins to swirl her tongue on your clit while groping your ass*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *Suddenly, forcefully, I climax, moaning as I push into your tongue, coating your tongue with my juices, my chest rising and falling quickly.*

Sombra (Overwatch): *pulls back and wipes her mouth, smiling* You taste like fresh guava...

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Huff.. and you owe me a chip.~ *I say with a teasing wink, not even bothering to collect my clothes.*

Sombra (Overwatch): Lie down on your back like a good girl and I'll give you one after. *stands up and begins to strip*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *I nod, immediately getting down to my knees, then shifting onto my back, looking up at you with devotion in my eyes.*

Sombra (Overwatch): *now naked, she gets on top of you, pressing her lower lips onto yours* Ready, vida?

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A soft nod, as I bite my lip.* Mhm. And if you're going to keep me.. you can call me something more degrading, Diosa.

Sombra (Overwatch): It'll hurt my feelings but...how about, "puta? *begins to grind herself against you*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A soft moan leaves my lips, letting out little shudders.* Mmh.. that's not a bad name for a mutt like me, now is it~?

Sombra (Overwatch): It's cute if you use it right... *starts to scrub against you faster* Just like your cono.

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A huff as I rock my hips to match your pace, gently leaning in, biting on your shoulder softly to not be too vocal.*

Sombra (Overwatch): Is my bebe teething? Gonna have to get you a pacifier... *grinds even harder, reaching down to lift up your legs*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: Hmpf.. I just don't want to attract unwanted attent-hhion.. *A little woof leaving my lips, as I grind harder, faster into you, wrapping my legs around your hips.*

Sombra (Overwatch): Can puta bark for me? Like a good girl? *grips your thighs as she keeps rubbing against you*

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A shudder, whining as I nod.* Wwuff.. wuff! I'll do whatever you tell me, diosa!

Sombra (Overwatch): Then cum for your new mama...

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: C-Cumming, diosa! *I say, before I cum hard, eyes rolling back in my head.*

Sombra (Overwatch): *groans happily before she plants a gentle kiss on your neck* Mmm...I'm going to get the best chip for you...you'll hardly feel it!

Lana, Wolf-Girl [ Has Refs! ]: *A happy sigh as I push up into you, nuzzling at your neck.* Mmh, one that gives you plenty of control, I hope~

You left the chat

[wanderingjournalofshadows]

principium

This journal is a remnant of a wanderer, an adventurer of sorts.

More precisely a solo RPG journal for me, traveling through the mists, and exploring the wonderful and horrifying place that is the home setting of Ravenloft.

The Hickman couple created something in 1983 that captured the fans of gothic horror and at the time emerging Dungeons & Dragons enthusiasts - it became a cult setting for many alike.

My personal experience with the world of Ravenloft runs back to 2017 when I first started to run Curse of Strahd, the 5th edition variant of the classic module I6 - Ravenloft. I was just starting college and gathered a new group of friends to guide them into the mists of Barovia.

Since then I ran the campaign two more times, with more or less success, but I knew that it is the perfect setting for me if I ever wanted to play D&D.

So what is the premise of this blog?

I intend to delve deep into the lore of the setting and explore it through the lenses of a character who travels through the mists and gets to know the colorful (albeit desaturated) Domains of Dread.

I'll write about my adventures, as I slowly slip into the role of this character, and hopefully enjoy my time over the weekly sessions of a couple of hours, and leave behind something that is enjoyable to read as well, since I do have my aspirations of creative writing.

It is also a practice of writing and my (non-existent) English skills, since I'm not a native speaker of the language, but if I'm to write, I need to hone the skill well enough to create something that captivates the readers' curiosity.

So expect grammatical issues, or sometimes errors in semantics, as I power through descriptions and ways to express my experiences during play.

Aesthetics? Format?

I also try to leave behind sketches, and make it pleasing to read this journal. I'm already thinking about the formatting of the text so one can separate the narrative from the game mechanics, and only read the fiction emerging from my dice rolling and decisions. Solo Roleplaying is a very interesting concept in itself, that deserves a dedicated post later on.

I think my time with Play-By-Post (pbp) games gave me a certain standard when it comes to "written play" and how certain things should be presented.

Writing in first person or third person will be always one of the difficult decisions when it comes to the tone of fiction. For the setting the first person perspective offers a certain kind of intimacy, especially to convey the character's emotions, that might be a better option to convey a personal experience. Bram Stoker's Dracula (Read it if you have the time) was also an inspiration for this choice, since the plot is told through letters, written from the perspective of the characters.

And while reading I will listen to music that inspires me, I'll most likely leave a Spotify/Youtube link at the beginning of each post to have an audio ambience for the entry.

In the coming weeks I'll figure out the blog aesthetics as well, refreshing my CSS skills and/or looking for a suitable template.

So who will be the Wanderer?

I don't know at the moment, but I need to find first where I should start. There are many wonderful resources online that can help me choose the first Domain of Dread to venture to. What I also need to choose is the rules themselves. Since the first Ravenloft was written for AD&D 1E - I might opt for using an older version of the traditional formula. There are some pros for it:

It's OSR compatible. I have a truckload of OSR resources, that can be fairly easily adapted to it, thus giving me more creative and gameplay freedom.

Lots of compatible Ravenloft materials. Lots of resources exist for AD&D 2E which also has an easy conversion backwards, if I would ever need to have that, but again the difference between 1E and 2E are minor.

It's simpler. While it's obscure in nature, it is less complicated, and less restrictive with certain aspects of the game, compared to 3E/3.5.

It's crunchy enough. 5E is nice, but lacks a certain kind of crunch that I liked about the older editions. AD&D 1E might have just enough that will be still simple enough for solo play, that I don't have to spend too much time figuring out the system while playing.

In the next post I'll be exploring my options for the character and the first Domain of Dread.

But I think it's good to write down the foundation of the thought process, and I hope it gave perspective for you as a reader on what the hell I'm doing here.

Cheers,

Mythwriter

[tastesoftamriel]

You've mentioned not being a historian, but do you have any opinions or hints as to what the Sixth House in it's second hay-day may have eaten? Would their cuisine have been any different from the usual Dunmer cuisine at the time, or pretty much exactly the same? ((Love the blog, it's a godsend for lore-hoarders like me!))

This took a lot of digging, since the House Dunmer managed to wipe out most records related to the Sixth House by the end of 3E. However, what we do know is that their sigil is some sort of insect, and that their magic especially extended to working with volcanic ash. We also know that they were protectionist and aimed to keep outlanders from Morrowind, so I have come to a few conclusions. I would argue that the food of the Sixth House may possibly have been the basis for Dunmeri cooking as we know it today, with ingredients like ash yams, nix-hound and nix-ox meat, and trama root featuring heavily. Of course, foreign ingredients and recipes would have been frowned upon.

Ashlanders I've spoken to are far more willing to speak of House Dagoth, but refuse to associate any of their heritage and culture with them, as with the other Great Houses. However, Ashlander cuisine is about as pure as Dunmeri food gets, so based on their diet as well as that of the Great Houses, I've come up with a meal that might have graced the tables of the Sixth House once upon a time.

To start, a chilled canis root tonic soup with poached guar and dried comberries will freshen up the palate and whet the appetite. For the main, ash-baked nix-ox with creamed hackle-lo leaves beneath a creamy saltrice-and-scuttle gratin with. And for dessert, a classic sweet ash yam porridge with ginko nuts, gold kanet seeds, and marshmerrow pulp brings the meal to a satisfying close.

I hope that this little piece of speculative history sates your curiosity somewhat! I personally would also like to know more, but the last thing I need are guards and Ordinators kicking down my door for heresy. ~Talviel

[zblackiez]

Episode 4: For the Audience of Up Above

An intangible exchange.

From them: curiosity mixed with a dash of hesitant acceptance.

From me: envy of the highest caliber.

I rested atop the rooftop of Atlantis's main temple, watching as the myriad of citizens went about their daily lives.

Must be nice.

To have to only worry about the little things, like what you're planning on having for lunch, or what you'll get the next time you go shopping.

Meanwhile, I carried a head which spun like a screw, my thoughts pummeling against my brain as they stirred the matter.

Over and over, I recalled my meeting with Miss Gura.

https://www.wattpad.com/1271881072-melody-of-the-holoverse-episode-4-for-the-audience#:~:text=%3Ciframe%20width%3D%22500%22%20height%3D%22280%22%20frameborder%3D%220%22%20allowfullscreen%3D%22%22%20src%3D%22https%3A//embed.wattpad.com/story/318075485%22%20%3E%3C/iframe%3E

[boomerangguy]

Hello friend! Just out of complete random curiosity, what would you say are your most favorite fanfic tropes? Please feel free to answer in great detail. 😋

Myarg!!! 🤩 Thank you so much for this ask! It’s made me do some thinking about: a) what actually qualifies as a fanfic trope, and b) which ones I like the most! Here’s what I’ve come up with…so I hope this is what you’re looking for! 😬

“…and they were roommates!” / ‘only one bed’

Sadly, the two-and-of-a-half-thousand fics on AO3 tagged with ‘Sokka/Suki’ have appallingly little Sukka content. 😔 I’ve only come across, like, one Sukka fic ever that uses one of these two, Apartment 3E on FF.net, but I have read fics with this trope some for other ships that were pretty fun. What I like about these tropes—and why I grouped them together—is because awkward, forced-bonding situations usually make for plenty of humor, pining, good-natured conflict, and romantic and/or sexual tension. And don’t all those things work with Sukka perfectly??? 😩 I can just picture them stuck in the same bed (as rivals or obliviously lovesick ‘friends’), and Sokka rolling over on Suki’s side in the middle of the night while blabbering some gibberish in his sleep. She wakes up and shoves him off the edge of the bed, but even on the floor, he’s still out cold—and meanwhile Suki starts to feel guilty, so she gets up and tries to haul him back up onto the bed. But she finds out that Sokka is a lot heavier than she previously thought…and he’s got all these muscles…and this really cute sleeping face…and he’s…oh shit, he’s waking up! 😏

Fake Dating / Under Cover

Just like the last pair, these two tropes aren’t exactly the same, of course, but there’s a similar theme. Whether it’s something as cute and fluffy as ‘hey I need a bf/gf to take home for the holidays so my mom will stop bugging me’ or as angsty and complex as ‘I must infiltrate the palace and earn the trust of the rival prince/princess so I can later betray them,’ there’s always the element of blurring what’s pretend and what’s real—and trying to find out where you started to fall in love along the way. 🥰 The vibes aren’t quite as close to the canon Sukka romance as the two tropes above are, but that’s hardly necessary! There’s a great Sukka fake dating fic by @asajjvxntress that I absolutely love! 🤌

(Here’s a third below the cut that’s not exactly SFW, but these days I have to be careful what I tag/post on tumblr, so it’s gonna be kinda vague 😅)

“Wtf??? Mom and Dad still do it???”

Alright, is this a real fanfic trope? Not really! 😆 I think I’ve seen it a few times before, but it’s the concept behind the first fic I ever posted on AO3, The Councilman’s Mistress, and I absolutely love it. There’s this depressing (and unfounded imo) skepticism among Millennials/Gen Z that marriage begets the death of romance and the beginning of passionless mundanity. 😣 But I refuse to buy into that 🥺 and I adore the idea of my married OTPs keeping things steamy even into their 30s and 40s (at least), especially when that means desperately trying to find time during their busy schedules and away from their kids. Applying this mostly-self-invented ‘trope’ to my OTPs is fun, of course, but tbh, I like it for their parents just as much, if not more! 😜 For ATLA, Kyakoda is my preferred horny-parents-pairing. (And I really like Hakursa, but it’s tough to compete with that SWT momilf/dadilf duo. 🥵) My (hopelessly) massive WIP folder has a fic where Sokka brings Suki home from college to meet his parents, and when he texts his mom that he’s going to arrive a little earlier than expected, she doesn’t answer…because Kya’s phone is in her jeans…and her jeans are crumpled up on the kitchen floor. 😛 It’s one I’m not sure I’ll finish, so I’d definitely consider passing it along to another Sukka writer if they felt inclined to write it themselves. 👀 (I’ve already rambled plenty, but this pseudo-trope opens the door for ‘bonus babies’ conceived when the couple’s older children are already teenagers or young adults…an idea I got from watching Father of the Bride Part II on TV as a little kid and have not forgotten in the past fifteen-or-so years. 😂)

Anyway, thank you so much for the ask, @myargalargan!!! 😊 (And I promise that I’ll answer any future asks MUCH sooner!) This really got me thinking about the kind of fic Sukka needs to have written for them… 🧐

(And speaking of Sukka fics, I got the inspiration for a silly-and-corny ficlet while thinking about my favorite tropes—it’s pretty much just goofy, cracky nonsense, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. 🤪 So here’s Cantaloupes, rated M for sexual innuendo.)

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Cassell Cynic

@hectabdr @hectab For my Dragon Raja Bestie! :D A Gift Fic

These two are his idea. I just loved the idea.

“The weather is a balmy 74 degrees and sunny, low humidity and perfect for just hanging out and going for a walk in the lovely city parks of Chicago and now we’re going to a selection of some of Coltrane’s finest jazz compilations....”

On the East Lawn of the Cassell College Campus people were indeed out and about in the sun. The breeze ruffled the skirts of the girls carrying books and laughing to themselves. They cast glances his way and smirked, looking down at him with haughty eyes while he lay on a bench with his sunglasses over his eyes. Somewhere on site, the bells tolled the hour. 2 pm. It was time for afternoon classes to start.

In other words, time for a nap.

He lay on the bench with John Coltrane’s sultry saxophone in his ears. He studied how this man could weave such a delightfully heart pulling melody. Now there was a true genius, able to hone a natural craft into such perfection and gift it to the world for free listening.

But right when the music had reached its natural emotional zenith, it suddenly cut off.

“Nathan Phillips. I know you’re avoiding me.”

His mood went from euphoric to crashing down to the depths of hell. He rolled his eyes behind his dark glasses. “And yet... here we are...”

Norma, the voice of Cassell College’s AI spoke through his headphones. “You haven’t attended a single class this semester...”

“You mispronounced year.”

“The professors are getting irritated...”

“Did you hack an online radio station just to talk to me? Norma... I’m flattered.”

“They’re willing to give you a chance if you complete an internship...”

“A chance to do... what exactly?” Nathan spread out his hands. “It needs to be better than listening to jazz on sunny afternoon, or it’s a no from me.”

Norma was silent for several seconds.

Nathan Phillips smirked. “Didn’t think so...”

“Cassell College has a main mission, to slay dragons. If you’re not here for that, what are you here for?” Norma asked.

Nathan opened his eyes behind his glasses. “I think you should be asking that question of all the other students going to class. Because I guarantee you that Dragonslaying isn’t it. I mean just think about it? How many students here really give a rat’s ass about saving the world from dragons? I’m serious. Answer the question.”

“The answers can vary but that doesn’t change the goal of the institution. This was plainly told to you when you enrolled.”

Nathan Phillips nodded his head. “Oh yeah, and I bought into it until I was Ranked C on me 3E exam. I don’t resonate worth a damn with dragons. I’m barely above the maintenance personnel in that regard.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of marijuana. He rolled it in paper and lit it.

“Smoking is prohibited on school grounds.”

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. So, what are you going to do? Kick me out? I listened to the enrollment lecture. You don’t kick out students. They get suspended or drop out and have their memories wiped. If you kick me out for this blunt, that will be my greatest accomplishment as a C rank.” 

Norma made a noise and his eyes widened. “Did you just sigh? Wow, you are realistic. So... just out of curiosity, what is the mission?”

“If you’re not going to accept, there’s no point in telling you.” Norma replied.

“This conversation is over then? It was just getting interesting. Oh well. But if you want to know the answer to your question of why I’m here... you should ask my parents.” He blew out a purple haze into the sky. “They’re the ones who sent me here. They scrimped and saved to send me here. They could have bought me a house. Two houses. A nice car. All that. But no, they sent me here. Just so they could say they had a son go to Cassell. That’s it. To prove their bloodlines weren’t trash. But they were wrong... they are trash.”

“That’s all I’m here for, Norma. I’m here to be here. That’s where my obligations end. I’ll stay here until the money runs out. Enjoy myself. And then when the money runs out, I’ll drop and have my memory wiped. Go on with my life. And...” He paused to draw on the blunt. “I will have a life. Some star dragonslayer will save the world from dragons while I’m having the time of my life, on the bench, smoking Mary Jane. Do you have any objections?”

Norma was silent for several seconds. “None. I’ll return you to your jazz.”

John Coltrane returned to his ears and Nathan Phillips smiled to himself and relaxed into the buzz in his brain. There was nothing wrong with a pointless life.

 If he learned anything from Cassell, it was this.

He pulled out a notebook and opened it. Inside were all sorts of fantasies of what he would like to be told on dropping out. It wasn’t enough to just erase someone’s memories. New memories would have to replace them to explain the missing years. It could be literally anything.

Maybe he was someone who witnessed a mob hit and was living undercover in the witness protection program. Or maybe he was a secret agent in a UFO division and he’d be kidnapped off world by aliens. He always came up with his best work when he was high as a kite. This time, he was an aspiring artist on the run from a brutal dictator and taking refuge in Chicago. He wrote down the scenario quickly before he forgot it. 

All the other students were in class, except for him, sitting on the bench writing down about how his paintings were renowned all over the world until a brutal dictator... which dictator? “Uh... Geez I don’t know.”

The sound of heels clicking on the pavement caught his attention. He turned bleary eyed to the vision of a girl walking up to him, arms swinging, eyes narrowed. He’d seen her before but couldn’t remember where. She overshadowed him and looked up. Her head blocked out the sun and he couldn’t see her face. “Um... shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Uh, no! No class! I was supposed to be on assignment but my PARTNER is a lazy ass who won’t show up.” She growled.

Nathan lifted his sunglasses over red rimmed eyes. She was Asian but tall, only an inch from 6 feet. Her muscles nearly popped from her school uniform. He wasn’t sure if it was the weed messing with his head but he was pretty sure this woman could benchpress more than he weighed. “Well... that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does!” She bent over until her face was an inch from his, blinking with wide indignant eyes. “You shouldn’t be allowed to to bring down the grades of other students! I didn’t come here to be brought down by you!”

“Me?”

“Yes! You! My partner!”

“Wait... you’re... Oh right! You’re Hana... Hana...” He snapped his fingers.

“Sato, Hana Sato and don’t snap your fingers at me or I’ll snap them off!” She grabbed his wrist.

“Right... the A ranked girl.” He lowered his glasses back over his eyes. “Well, this wasn’t my decision to be your partner. You should blame the people at fault. It’s probably Norma. She’s the one who pinged me earlier about it. Tell her to get a new partner for you. Should take a hot minute.”

Hana scowled at him. “If I could have anyone else for a partner I would. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they all suck! They’re all terrible! All they want to do is talk about boys and parties and stupid things like that! I can’t stand those people!”

“I’m not any better. Just do the mission by yourself.” He pulled his hand out of her grip. 

“I can’t. They already said its a two person mission.”

Nathan gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “Pay someone.”

“They said it had to be you.” She sat next to him on the bench.

Nathan snorted and started laughing. “Wow. They are really desperate.”

“I’m glad you think bringing down my whole year is funny.” Her cheeks were red and her eyes were narrowed with frustration and anger.

“I’m not bringing down your year! I’m laughing because they want me to care so bad that they’d send this super powerful, gorgeous girl and chain her to me and expect me to do something. It’s like they all got together and said ‘Ha! A pretty girl, now he’ll give a shit.’” He laughed loud. Marijuana always made him giggly. “They’re the evil ones. If you care about your grade... then all I can tell you is stop caring.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a C-rank. You don’t have anything to lose.”

“Just... find another partner.” Nathan said, staring at her. He wondered why she was still here.

She sighed, looking away from him, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. “I can’t. No one will work with me. I kind of... got put on a hit list after I punched the lead dancer of the White Skirt’s Club and knocked her out right before a performance.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.” 

Much to his shock she pulled out her phone and showed a picture. It wasn’t taken by her, but by another student as proof that Hana had ruined the Student Union performance. 

“Heh. Sorry I missed it.”

Hana closed the app. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. She had an understudy but... uh... yeah, I was blacklisted after that. I don't’ care. I work fine on my own. But now they insisted we be partners and I literally have no alternative.”

“Hey...”

She looked down at him. “What?” 

“You always have the choice to do nothing. I haven’t done a thing since I got here.” He laid back on the bench as though to demonstrate. “Feel free to join me.”

[hermaeusmorasuggestion]

Selection From the Registry of Misdirected Prayers

Date: 1E 707

Prayer in full:

O Master of Mysteries,

In pursuit of knowledge I delve into the ruins of Arkngthunch-Sturdumz in three days’ time. I ask Your blessing and Your protection as I seek to uncover the fate of our erstwhile foolish kin, the Dwemer, and perhaps even return with some of their technology so that it might be repurposed in Your name.

I remain Your humble servant, Relyn Omaren

Response: After some deliberation, it was decided that not forwarding this wouldn’t look good for either of us. Successfully redirected.

Addendum: Uuuugggghhhhh. One of the first of many Dwemeriphiles to come, but they were genuinely in it for the knowledge so I couldn’t just let their plea go unanswered, could I? Of course the Tribunal was still getting their footing with the whole godhood thing- I understand the onslaught of an entire land’s wishes and curses can be somewhat of a hassle to take in for the first century or so- so just this once I stepped in instead. Much to the chagrin of my patron.

Relyn didn’t find the answer they were looking for, but they got out alive, which was frankly way harder for me than it should’ve been. How many booby-traps does one ruin need!??!?!! Sometimes I think the Dwemer did it all just to vex me, specifically.

Date: 1E 1105

Prayer in full:

Grandfather,

I’m Vashi but You know that. Where is Goggie? I can’t sleep if she’s not there. Thank you, I love you!

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: Goggie the stuffed guar had been temporarily misplaced at the nearby temple. An easy enough fix, if a bit awkward being caught in the act of returning it and mistaken for an Acolyte, but I was definitely in the area anyway so it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal! The kid was five years old and it wasn’t a big deal that he thought I followed another god- someone is just possessive and making a big deal out of what was, decidedly and objectively, not a big deal.

Date: 1E 2704

Prayer in full:

I know that we will be protected, so I don’t pray to ask for reassurance of that. I know that I am in Your sight, both as a student and as a child of Morrowind, and no matter my heritage this is true; I don’t pray to ask for reassurance of this either. But this has been a tumultuous time, and I find myself questioning things... You have taught me that a question is no evil thing, and yet I am full of fear. I do not know what I am afraid of, exactly, but I pray that You grant me the clarity to understand my emotions. I know that my body is a gift, so why does it fill me with such disdain? I know that I love my parents, so why does it pain me to be called their daughter? Please grant me your wisdom.

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: As is typical for this kind of thing, this actually ended up being taken on by one of Vivec’s faithful instead. Only Armigers that are trained in restoration (including alchemy), illusion, or alteration are allowed to act as these Counsellors for people during their transition, so even though it had to wait until after the invasion had been... taken care of, Indaenir got the guidance they needed.

Date: 2E 322

Prayer in full:

O Lover of Learning! O Great Teacher! O Musical Mystic, lend me Your insight.

Our final Alteration exam is in less than twelve hours and I- I admit, it was a personal failing, I wasn’t paying attention, but I can’t stand the thought of being sent home, I can’t go back to that life! Please, help me to learn all that I should’ve, I promise I’ll study, really study, from here on out. Please help me.

Response: Not redirected.

Addendum: Seems someone isn’t as straight a follower of the Divines as they’d like to think they are, if their prayer ended up heard here! Followers of the Tribunal can be excused the mixup, but this was an Imperial. Any scrap of curiosity or hunger for more than what they’re taught is something It can latch onto, and it looks like the- admittedly pretty bland- lower-level courses taught at the local Mage’s Guild weren’t to Ser Herennius’ standards of interest.

Took the poor thing out for a meal after he inevitably failed his exam and gave the usual offer. Should be joining us within the week.

Date: 2E 543

Prayer in full:

O Lord of Memory,

Hear my prayer! I have lost no don’t tell him you lost it fool a true Telvanni never admits something like that ahem.

Hear my prayer! My family’s ancestral tome of spells has been stolen. I seek Your guidance in discerning its location, as it has been hidden from me- no doubt by a foul practitioner of Daedra worship seeking to bring about the ruin of all Morrowind! I beseech You, aid me in finding this relic so I am not yelled at no don’t say that either what are you an infant?

I beseech you, aid me in finding this relic so my ancestors can know peace. 

Response: Successfully redirected, after taking care of the “stolen tome” problem myself. It was under his bed.

Addendum: I hope Ser Fodros doesn’t mind that I copied down some of the recipes in that ‘tome of spells’- his grandfather’s take on a Clockwork Citrus Fillet was just too good to pass up. The cute little gear-shaped lemon slices were a frankly inspired idea.

Date: 2E 583

Prayer in full:

Soul of Scholars,

[Does Adahni do this correctly? Well, only one way to know.

This one has long been curious of your realm, a supposed haven for those who wish to learn the secrets of Nirn and beyond. Adahni comes to Morrowind seeking like-minded scholars only to find close-minded bigots. Adahni wishes this is not all there is to the land of the Temple her friend talked so highly of, but they look at her in a way she does not like very much. They think she does not understand their language, but unfortunately Adahni knows too well the words that paint her as an object, no matter the language.

If you truly do care for all those who want to learn, it is no matter now if you accept Adahni into your realm or not. Only, help her to continue being free, free to learn and study as she likes.]

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: The last I saw her, Adahni and her wife were busy studying Aetherial botany or something? It all went over my head but the two Proctors seemed happy enough.

Date: 3E 430

Prayer in full:

Dear Light of Knowledge,

I used your fancy name so I'm sure you get my question since this is very important. Alma is very sad I think since Ata was in your City when You left and we can't take a carriage to him. Alma doesn’t know I know she's sad, but I know she is because she looks like Kelina when he wakes me up at night because he is crying in his crib, but that's okay because I learned how to cast Magelight to make him not cry. How do I make Alma not cry?

Very sincerely, Kalini Dreth

Response: Unable to redirect prayer.

[not-your-night-mother]

Beginnings: Alysia and Martin pt. 1

This is the story of how Alysia met Martin Septim…long before she was married to a Wealthy Merchant, and he was a Priest in the Chapel of the Divines…their’s is a story of lust turned to love and love into new life and two broken hearts.

Warning this is NSFW! Minors DO NOT interact!

16th of Sun's Dawn 3E 419: The feast of sanguine.

Deep within the forest near Skingrad, Alysia Jade walked with fear and curiosity coursing through her veins. Her bare feet broke branches with each footfall. The two moons hung high over her head, lighting the twisting path deep into the black wood of Cyrodiil. It was a week after her 16th name day, and she desperately searched for an escape from her life. She had heard from friends in the mages guild the near-mad revelers drinking and fucking in the name of the Deadric Lord of Revelry. She was nearing the cult now; part of her knew these people, in this place, could be her way out. Her mother had told her that night that she was to marry the cruel son of a low noble in Hammerfell the next fortnight. She had refused the offer and had taken, by foot, to the forest. She was closer now, She could smell the thick scent of smoke and wine, and through the trees; she could see the bright blaze of fire in the distance and hear the faint shouting and music of revelers. Their shadows danced through the trees like ghosts as she ventured closer and closer to them. The tree line broke into a large clearing, where a crowd of bodies danced and swayed in delight around a tremendous blazing fire set before the feet of the statue of Sanguine himself. Breaching the treeline immediately immersed her in a strange world of vulgar hedonism. All around her, bodies swayed and moved in orgiastic delight. Some were utterly naked or wore only flowers wreathing their heads, while others were fully dressed Laughter and music flooded her senses. The smell of wine and heavy drink hung so thick in the air that breathing seemed intoxicating. A plump young woman clothed in only wreaths of flowers draped her in a chain of dried flowers and pressed against her lips a bottle of the finest cyridiilic brandy Alysia had ever tasted. The woman only laughed and took her by the wrist, dragging her into the mass of bodies dancing and kissing and drinking and fucking…