#Fel Orc

[dylan-grimmkell]

"Why be strong enough when there is stronger still?" ~ Grommash in the Warcraft movie.

Felgijak is an absolute until of a fel orc and loves the feeling of Fel flowing through his veins.

Thank you @Da_Ddy22 for this amazing art of my Orc Warlock.

Happy Orctober!

[findmeinshattrath]

We know that some of the Fel Orcs in BC were mag'har who were captured and transformed by force in Hellfire Citadel. That tells me that there are probably at least some Fel Orcs who could have joined back up with the Horde after the Fel Horde was defeated, maybe in hopes of figuring out how to undo the transformation.

[martyrette]

꧁༒~ Gravehorn ~༒࿐

I miss my Warcraft 1-3 Fel Orc.

She basically had to kill her starving Rylaak to feed her clan when Draenor went poopoo and is now uber depressed about it. She dedicates every kill to her Rylaak in hopes of keeping her fed in the afterlife. She sorta went all out though and became a literal war machine.

That’s how Crypt’s Orc Shadow Council member found her and went “Even MORE Fel?”. She almost killed her little brother figure in her bloodlust during a spar and is now questioning her life choices.

[yorea-art]

Remm the warrior orc. Tried playing with the colours a bit here by only using the yellow-red range! I'm pretty happy with how that worked out. Did a vague attempt at a background too, it could definitely use some improvement 😅 Made in 2019.

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[warlordfelwinter]

Tales from the Dancing Sea Dragon

Part One: Dragon Heist

Chapter Nine: Job Well Done?

--

job done for now, at least

~3.5k

--

A burst of flame and force slammed into Corivier’s chest, hard, sending him staggering backward. Celeste caught him, smelling char and blood, hearing Corivier’s labored breathing, feeling him waver as he struggled to stay on his feet. 

No, no, no, Celeste thought, hands clenching on Corivier’s arms as panic rose in his chest. He had tried so hard not to get attached to people, not to let them close, for this exact reason. He didn’t want to lose anyone, not like that. Not like this. Not again. He didn’t know when he’d slipped up. He hadn’t known Corivier and Nyalori that long, he didn’t know anything about either of them, and he’d let himself get attached to them already. 

No, he thought, something else rising and overriding the panic. Anger. No. I’m not losing anyone else. At the thought, his hands tightened and a golden glow emanated from them, rushing swiftly through Corivier, and Celeste heard his breathing steady, just slightly. 

He pushed Corivier forward and the elf took the momentum, running to the side and ducking behind a few crates away from another spell. Celeste ran forward in his place, leaping into a neat roll behind some debris as Nyalori launched a spell at the half-orc, knocking them back away from Floon. An arrow shot across the room, missing the half-orc but hitting something else that let out a distorted noise.

Celeste looked over the debris as Renaer ran forward, getting into melee with the half-orc. He was about to join him when he noticed the brain scampering over. It already had a few of Corivier’s arrows in it. Celeste vaulted over the half wall of debris, bringing his staff down directly onto the little creature and splitting it in half. 

He heard Renaer scream and turned, seeing that the half-orc had grabbed him and fire was emanating from their hands. He spun, kicking the half-orc in the back and staggering them, forcing them to let go of Renaer. Two arrows slammed into their chest and watery lightning struck them. They snarled, launching a firebolt at Nyalori, which clipped her shoulder as she tried to dodge. 

As she shifted back, she screamed, not in pain but in anger. Her voice twisted, echoing on itself, and lightning wreathed around her. The ball of light Celeste had seen around her before shifted, also twisting to take on a faint form, like a figure, wrapping its arms around Nyalori, guiding her spell. Faint hands clasped over hers on her trident as she thrust it forward and the figure twisted, losing shape again as it was pulled along with the lightning. A lance of electricity that slammed through the half-orc, tearing a ragged hole through their chest, and hitting the back wall in a thunderous explosion. 

The half-orc staggered and began to fall. They grabbed Renaer’s leg on the way down, their hands burning with the last vestiges of energy. Celeste slammed the metal end of his staff into their head, knocking them to the ground where they let out a few last labored breaths and went still. 

Renaer immediately went to Floon and untied him and tried to calm him down, and Nyalori went to Corivier, speaking arcane words to heal some of his wounds. They all came together near the stage, sitting on the ledge and catching their breath. Nyalori opened her bag and pulled out some bandages and other healing supplies, starting to treat what wounds she couldn’t heal with magic on both Corivier and Floon. 

Floon was in a bad way. He had obviously been tortured and his eyes were unfocused, staring at some middle distance as he nodded absently at whatever Renaer was saying. Celeste thought, maybe, he knew sort of how he felt. It looked similar to how he had felt in Elturel. When everything was just too much and his mind had given up processing any of it. 

They rested for a while. Celeste, being less injured and not preoccupied by healing, wandered the room, listening at the doorways and making sure no one was coming. Especially that nightmarish thing that had been in here before. No one did come, which was as much a relief as it was suspicious. 

“Celeste, come look at this,” Renaer called, from the stage. Celeste trotted over to join him as he pulled a small chest out from under the chair that the tentacled figure had been sitting in. He handed it over to Celeste, who opened the lid, surprised it wasn’t locked. 

Inside, he found a decent amount of coin and two vials of red liquid. He took the chest over to Corivier and Nyalori, when Renaer made no move to take any of the coin. 

“What do you make of these?” Celeste asked, holding one of the vials out to Nyalori. 

She looked curious and took it, holding it up to the light and then popping the cork out and sniffing it. She dipped a finger in and tasted it and then nodded. 

“Healing potions,” she said. 

“Oh, those would have come in handy,” Celeste said, handing both of them to Nyalori. She already had knowledge of healing, so it seemed best for her to have them. 

“They still might, depending on how we want to get out of here,” Corivier said. He was clearly still in pain, but looking much steadier for Nyalori’s help. 

“Maybe it would be best to go back how we came,” Nyalori said. “It won’t be the fastest but…” 

“Probably safest,” Corivier agreed. 

“Apart from the slime,” Celeste said. “But maybe it left.” 

—

For once, they were lucky, and they didn’t have to fight the slime creature on their way back. With Corivier leading and without a need to be stealthy, they were able to make their way back to the sewer entrance in little over an hour. Celeste was thoroughly exhausted, his nerves frayed by everything they’d encountered tonight, and soaked to the skin with sewer water. The others looked little better. 

As soon as Nyalori climbed out of the sewer, she yanked her stolen boots off and threw them back down into the water. Renaer dropped the grate back over the entrance and looked at them all. 

“Right, well, we should probably get back to Volo. Did he tell you where to meet him?” 

Celeste shook his head. “Back at the Yawning Portal, maybe?” he suggested. 

“Good place to start… though we should probably get cleaned up before leaving the Dock Ward,” Renaer said. He looked around and got his bearings and then led them through a few streets back to where they had been earlier in the day, and to the door of the Buoyant Bliss Bathhouse. It appeared to still be open, despite it being past sundown by now, so they all tiredly filed inside. 

The woman working at the reception area glanced over all their sewer soaked clothes and said nothing, just pointing them through into the baths. 

Celeste stripped out of his clothes and dropped into the water. He had been to bathhouses before and he had always thought they were luxurious places, with water that steamed and smelled of flowers. The water here certainly wasn’t hot and it didn’t particularly smell like anything, which, after smelling sewage for so long, was a relief. He dunked his head under, washing out his hair, and when he came back up he found that Renaer had stripped as well and was busy washing. Corivier and Nyalori had both gotten in fully clothed, though he couldn’t quite tell if that was because they were too tired to take their gear off or because they were being modest. Floon simply sat by the edge of the water, methodically washing some blood off of himself, his gaze distant. Celeste pulled his clothes into the water after he was done washing himself and tried to get as much of the sewer out of his outfit as he could. 

After an hour or so, they were all relatively clean. Celeste had wrung as much water out of his clothes as he could, though they were still damp as he got redressed. He knew the fabric would dry quickly, it was made for that. 

They left the bathhouse and followed Renaer up through the Dock Ward toward the Castle Ward. He wove his way through the labyrinthine streets as confident as if he’d lived here his entire life. Celeste watched him as they walked, ever more curious about the man. He was a lord, son of the old Open Lord, yet he knew the Dock Ward like the back of his hand and seemed perfectly at home in the streets and in a fight. 

Everyone has secrets, he thought. He glanced at Corivier and Nyalori, thinking about Zem and whatever powerful strange magic they had seen from Nyalori tonight. He wondered what other secrets they had, but he found the thought didn’t bother him. He had secrets, too. 

Renaer took them back to the Yawning Portal. It was still lively at this time of night. Nyalori was the first to spot Volo and got his attention as they walked over. He was alone at a table, anxiously sipping at a drink. As he looked up and saw them, and then saw Floon with them, the nerves vanished from his face to be replaced with a beaming smile and he rushed over to embrace his friend. 

“Oh, Floon, I’m so glad you’re all right! Thank you my friends, thank you! Come, come, you must tell me the whole story!” He ushered them over to the table and they ordered drinks, telling Volo the entire story of their adventure. 

“My goodness, what a twisting tale!” Volo exclaimed when they had finished. “And I truly can’t thank you enough for this.” 

“Well…” Corivier said. “I mean, I don’t want to sound… You did promise us money,” he said, giving up on a more tactful way of putting it. 

“I… did,” Volo said, suddenly looking somewhat sheepish. “And I do apologize that I don’t currently have the coin I promised—blame my publisher—but I do have something even more valuable I can give you!” He pulled a scroll tube from his bag. “This did not come cheaply and, honestly, I’m a bit loathe to part with it, but you are right that I promised you payment and I do not have payment to give, so I must give you something. Never let it be said that Volothamp Geddarm would renege on his word!” 

Nyalori took the scroll tube and opened it, pulling out a document that she stared at for a second before handing to Celeste. 

“It’s the deed to a property in the North Ward, in Trollskull Alley,” Volo explained, as Celeste read it. “An estate, really. It used to be quite the prosperous tavern and, with a few renovations, it could be again. This is really a valuable thing I’m parting with here. If you fix this place up and re-open it, you could easily be making ten times whatever I promised you.” 

Celeste looked up from the document to find Volo looking hopefully at him, and Corivier and Nyalori looking at him to give Volo an answer. 

“I mean, I think we should take a look at it,” he said, rolling the deed back up and putting it back in the tube. 

“Good, good, yes,” Volo said, clearly relieved. “If you’d like, meet me here in the morning, we can go see the magistrate, have the deed transferred over first thing! I’d recommend you find a solicitor if you’re thinking about opening the tavern again, always good to have someone to handle the pesky business side of things for you. I know a few I can recommend—” 

“I have a solicitor,” Celeste said, mostly just to stop Volo from rambling. It wasn’t entirely a lie. He did know a solicitor, but opening a tavern might be a bit beneath his interests. 

After a little more chatting, they bid Volo goodnight and got up from the table. Renaer caught Celeste as they were leaving and pulled him aside. 

“I just wanted to thank you again,” Renaer said, “and offer… I mean, if you ever need help. I have a lot of resources and contacts at my disposal. I’d be glad to repay the favor.” 

Celeste hesitated. “Actually… what do you know about the dragonwards?” 

“Not a lot, honestly. Why?” 

“I’m worried there may be something wrong with them,” Celeste said. He hesitated just a moment before forging ahead, deciding he could trust Renaer. “I have it on the word of a celestial that Waterdeep may be in danger of being destroyed by a dragon. I think maybe Tiamat. If she’s coming, she must have some way to get through. Do you think any of your resources might be helpful to look into that?” 

“Celestial…” Renaer said, confused. “Right. Halo.” he said, glancing briefly above Celeste’s head. “That’s… um… troubling to hear, if I’m being honest. I’ll definitely look into it and have my friends keep their eyes and ears open.” He hesitated for a moment and leaned close. “The Harpers are here, if you need us. Don’t hesitate to contact me.” 

Celeste blinked, surprised. He’d heard rumors of the Harpers, as everyone had, and it suddenly explained a lot that had been confusing him about Renaer. He nodded. 

“I live in the North Ward,” Celeste said, and gave Renaer his address. “If you find anything, feel free to come by.” 

Renaer nodded. “Have a good night, then, you’ve earned the rest.” 

“Good night,” Celeste said, and hurried outside to catch up with Corivier and Nyalori who were waiting for him. He got them a coach back to his house, not wanting to walk that whole way when he was already almost asleep on his feet. 

Once they were at the house, he unlocked the door for Corivier and Nyalori, hearing Zem almost immediately get out of Corivier’s bag. He stayed on the porch for a second, checking his mail out of habit. To his surprise, there were two things in the letter box. He grabbed them and went in, speaking the word for the lanterns to light up the house. 

Celeste leaned against the counter, deciding which letter to read first, while Corivier got Zem something to eat. 

“Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding when you said your neighbor was going to get food,” Corivier commented. 

Celeste walked over and leaned into the pantry, laughing quietly when he saw what Corivier meant. Efni hadn’t just bought him some meat for the dragon, she had completely filled every shelf, restocking him with breads and cheeses and fruits and vegetables. 

“That’s Efni for you,” Celeste said. He went back to his mail, deciding to unfold the note first. He recognized Efni’s handwriting immediately. 

‘Celeste,

Didn’t know when you’d be back but your icebox has ice in it and hopefully enough meat for the little one for a bit. I’ll keep it stocked until you tell me otherwise. I also got some more food for your pantry. I’ll keep that stocked too, especially if you’re having company over now!

As for the research you asked me to do, there wasn’t much about the dragon ward on the city. I suppose makes sense—could be a security risk if everyone knew about it. But what I could find was that it’s called Ahghairon’s Dragonward. It’s allegedly undispellable, but doesn’t extend to the harbor or into Undermountain. Several texts alluded mention of some sort of artifact hidden in the city that can apparently grant a dragon type creature the ability to ignore the ward, but it wouldn’t say what the artifact was or where it is or who has it. Probably smart. There was no mention about its effects on dragons who aren’t born yet, so I think we have to assume the wards creators didn’t anticipate an egg hatching in city limits. Damn wizards, always shortsighted. 

As for Tiamat… There seems to be several schools of thought about her origins / why she’s locked in Avernus. Tiamat is described as a fearsome entity, a monstrous behemoth creature with five chromatic dragon heads (black, red, green, blue, and white). The Dragon Queen, Queen of Chaos, Queen of Evil Dragonkind. Tiamat is described as an arrogant, greedy, hateful, spiteful and vain chromatic dragon. She is singularly focused on obtaining more power and wealth, and disdains mortals and sees them as disposable tools. 

Still has a following, though, I guess. She has numerous times tried to take control over the Realms for herself throughout history. Apparently, Bahamut is ever watchful against the machinations of Tiamat, and while he refuses to interfere with mortal affairs, it seems he does get involved if Tiamat is involved. There was some allusions to an ancient draconic poem about the creation of the world, but I couldn’t find it. 

Legend tells that she was cursed when she slew an unknown giant entity and was doomed to become a prisoner in the layer of Avernus of the Nine Hells, only able to leave the plane if summoned by a powerful ritual. Other accounts say Tiamat was sent to the Hells as a punishment for opposing the gods when they first came to the Material Plane, while other accounts even say that Tiamat went to the Hells by her own choice. 

There was some messy texts and accounts that were hard to follow about her time as an archfiend in the Hells. Something something about her being betrayed by the Lord of the Hells and that Asmodeus himself locked her in Avernus. So, who really knows why she’s down there, but as of right now, she is still down there. I think we would know if she was suddenly not. Not much information I could find about if it’s even possible for her to escape but since she’s basically a deity of some sort, I’m sure someone has tried. 

Anyway. Love you sweet boy. Let me know if you need anything, I’m always around. Maybe I can babysit the dragon if your friend and the dragon want. Ha!

Efni 

P.S. - You coming to Jezzara’s birthday party?’

Celeste read it over a few times, trying to digest all the information. It was enough to change his thoughts about what was going on. He recalled Hanala saying something in his dream about people in the city trying to get something for ‘her’, for Tiamat he must assume. He wondered if it might be this artifact Efni mentioned. If they could allow Tiamat to ignore the ward then it wouldn’t matter if the ward were working perfectly or not. He made a mental note to talk to Renaer next time he saw him and ask the Harpers to look into that artifact instead. 

The other note was in a nice envelope and he opened it and pulled out a single sturdy sheet of dark emerald green, embossed with gold. It was an invitation to Jezzara Xilith’s 353rd birthday on the 18th of Mirtul. With everything going on the past few days, Celeste had forgotten. 

He looked up at Nyalori and Corivier who were tossing bits of food for Zem. 

“How long are you planning on staying in Waterdeep?” he asked. 

Nyalori shrugged. 

“I’m not sure,” Corivier said. “Do you need—I mean, do you want us to—we can find somewhere else to stay, if you want your house back,” he said, stumbling slightly. 

“Oh, no, that’s not it!” Celeste said, shaking his head. “You’re welcome to keep staying here, if you want. It’s just that my neighbor is celebrating their birthday in a few days and I was wondering how many people to say I was bringing.” 

“Oh, um… Sure, I mean, if you think they’d want us there.” 

“What’s a birthday?” Nyalori asked. 

While Corivier tried to explain the concept to her, Celeste quickly wrote ‘Celeste plus two, maybe three’ on a scrap of paper and tucked it in the envelope. He trotted back outside and over to the next house, putting the envelope in Efni’s letterbox, before heading back inside. 

He stretched as he walked back into the kitchen, bidding the other two goodnight and heading up to his room. He changed out of his still slightly smelly clothes of the day, wincing as he found bruises and sore muscles. He ran fingers over the place on his ribs where the duergar had hit him. It was bruised, but otherwise there was no scar, no evidence that a weapon had carved through his abdomen. He shivered slightly as he thought about the sight of his own blood coursing down his side. A sight he would likely have to get used to, if he was going to continue on this path as Hanala wanted him to. 

He dropped heavily into bed, almost immediately falling into the deep, dreamless sleep of full body exhaustion.

[vaporwavemonk-art]

After restoring peace to the realm, The Robins' adventure comes to a close! Whether defeating dragons, reestablishing Giant society, or their many social shenanigans, the (somewhat) heroic tales of Tetra, Luster, Trill, Breakfast and Fel will continue to be told for years to come!

[bookitocat]

Games with the Orc της Kathryn Moon

Στην ομάδα μας προστέθηκε η #fel😈 και μας χαιρετίζει με μια ωραία κριτική του βιβλίου Games with the Orc της Kathryn Moon. Είναι monster smut και για αναγνώστες 18+.

της Fel 😈 (+18 Βιβλίο. Περιέχει ακατάλληλη γλώσσα.) Heyo! Διχαζόμουν με ποιο βιβλίο να σας συστηθώ, πολλές επιλο��ές… Τόσες αγάπες! Ειλικρινά δεν ήξερα, τι να πρωτοδιαλέξω! Όμως, κατέληξα μετά από πολύ “ώριμη” σκέψη στο βιβλίο που προτείνω περισσότερες φορές από όλα τα υπόλοιπα αλλά κανένας δεν με ακούει. Κανονίστε… Διαβάστε το… Σας απειλώ! Να σας συστήσω το Games with the Orc της Kathryn…

[moonlit-minuet]

My first every etching series I made this year! 6 etching blocks I made of my friends and I's dnd characters, I dub the series Tainted Goddess

[cince-arts]

Kissy (Fel-Orc OC)

Ok slowed pacing but will get on top of posting.

Here’s the actual finished concept I did of my fel-orc Kissy. Though she was designed in WoW, I’m planning on taking her out (like all my ocs). May have some fun WoW content with her when I can Artwork/Character (c)  @cince-arts  

[kawareo]

As a suggestion, I would love to see your take on child Gortash and your durge.

Had this one sitting in the askbox forever lmao

Anyway yeah, babies with similar taste in fantasy novels! Rambling under cut

For me, Gortash is a few years older than Durge is, and they've met at best once before Enver went to the House of Hope, when Durge's parents went to buy him new shoes at the cobblers'. Even then they've only talked for a few minutes while their parents did business.

Durge grew up for the first eight years of his life with a lovely couple, a tiefling mother and half orc other mom, and because he used to wear his mother's old clothes as they were kinda poor, he was mostly much girlier than he is now. They lived in a mill by the river, just a bit out of Baldur's Gate, and provided flour to the bakers in the city.

His parents found him at their doorstep when he was a newborn, and they've adopted him immediately, aware of how weird it was for a drow to live on the surface, but since both of them are considered 'scary' races, they thought they could handle it. They were very protective of him when people called him scary or weird, a bit too much, sometimes, like when he killed a bird and didn't seem to understand why that was wrong, or when the neighbor's daughter fell down a well and died, and people blamed Durge for it.

He was otherwise a sweetheart, if a bit lonely, and his mother especially was worried about that - but it made sense for him to make up an imaginary friend, Sceleritas Fel, with whom he then talked to for months before poisoning his parents on his ninth birthday and disappearing.

After that, he got put in charge of the cult of Bhaal, much to his new sister's displeasure.

[renaultmograine]

just found out Richard Epcar is one of the fel orc commanders in that one dungeon and it's REALLY WEIRD hearing what is ostensibly Alexandros speaking orcish

[dylan-grimmkell]

Felgijak Gorebelly Blender Render Model Comm by @ramavataramaart

A comm of my Fel Orc Warlock Felgijak this time a full model of what he would look like in game! Thank you again, Rama, for your hard work with this comm!

[findmeinshattrath]

There actually was a BC era quest for Horde, the quest giver was Caza something or other, in which the quest giver talked about researching a cure for Fel Orcs.

I am aware of that quest, yeah. Part of my thinking in my post about Fel Orcs was that some would join up in hopes of that working out or to help figure out the cure.

[alannah-corvaine]

The moon of the Thirteenth reminds me so much of Hellfire Peninsula, it just needs a couple orcs, a busted wizard's tower, and the occasional death by roving Fel Reaver.

[auntarivia]

Alright, there it is.

I have no idea for a title tho.

It's been a while since I read 'The last Guardian', so forgive any inconsistency. Although I feel like the self-insert is the biggest inconsistency here lol.

Also English is not my first language so forgive me any errors as well.

Enjoy.

Echo of their steps and heavy breaths ran through the empty, wet corridors of Karazhan. Julia wasn't with them, but they didn't have time to wait or search for the Librarian, even though it was her plan. Whenever she was...

Scream of pain reached them from the top of the tower. Khadgar cursed under his breath. She was there already.

He burst through the door, with Garona and Lothar right behind him. All three froze in place when they saw the scene in front of them.

The ritual circle was ready, but neither Julia nor Medivh were in it. Instead, the Librarian was lying on the floor with her back naked and covered in blood. She was reaching desperately towards the circle and trying to crawl there, but she was unable to because of the Guardian.

Or whatever he just became, since Khadgar could swear that it wasn't his Master. His face was twisted into some weird demonic features, with a pair of horns growing from his head and eyes burning with green light. He was sitting above Julia, pressing her back with his knee and craving symbols in her back.

So this was that 'Sargeras' the Librarian warned them about.

Medivh, or Sargeras, or whatever it was, turned his gaze towards the intruders and growled like a beast. Librarian also looked up. Her eyes were bloody, tired, and dull. She let out a desperate sigh when she noticed them.

Guardian pushed her away, making her scream from pain once more, and threw himself towards Khadgar. The young mage dodged his attack and gave Garona free access to the demon. She struk him with her arm in the chest, making him lose his breath and take a few steps back. Then she jumped at him, angry like a feral cat, and pushed him to the ritualistic circle. They both fell on the ground and orc pinned Medivh to the floor.

"Khadgar!" yelled Julia with her sore, scared voice.

Garona rolled from the circle just right when Khadgar started the incantation. Medivh got up on his knees and tried to stand up when the circle lighted up with a soft green light. Librarian, despite the obvious pain that has been shaking her body, spread her blood on the edge of the symbol as her eyes started glowing in the same light as the circle.

Medivh let out an inhuman scream as the light started surrounding him and a green mist wrapped around his body. Then suddenly, the demonic attributes left his body and turned into a demonic torso, rising above him from his back.

"Now, Lothar!" Librarian's voice was desperate and full of pain. She knew that they had only once chance and it couldn't go to waste. Her drained face went even more pale when Lothar's sword swung millimetres above Medivh's head, right onto Sargeras' throat, and cut his head off clean. His body exploded with a wave of fel magic, throwing Lothar against the wall and sweeping Garona and Khadgar off their feet.

A silence has occurred as all five of them were laying down, drained by the fight and the ritual. Garona was the first one to manage to get on her feet, but she could only stand in place, confused and unsure who needed her help the most.

Finally, she decided to go towards Lothar, who was the closest to her. She helped him get up, but before any of them were able to say anything, a painful groan of the Librarian brought their attention. Exhausted, woman tried to crawl towards Medivh but was still too weak to manage to move. She gave the other two desperate look that they understood immidetly and went towards the Guardian. Lothar kneeled next to him while Garona walked further to Khadgar.

"He's breathing," said Lothar and looked at Julia. Woman managed to smile softly and then just closed her eyes, as if she finally allowed herself to faint.

***

She woke up feeling her chest burning from pain, and took a deep breath that caused only more agony. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around. She was in her room, the window was covered, and light was dimmed. Her chest was wrapped in a clean bandage, and on a nightstand was a glass of water. She reached towards it and took a few slow sips. Almost as if he was waiting behind the door, Morose walked inside, holding a platter with a bowl of soup.

"Ah, miss Julia, you are awake. I'm glad, " he said in his unnaturally calm voice.

"Morose! Where are they?!" Librarian didn't wait any second to ask what she was worried about.

"Miss Garona and sir Anduin Lothar had to head out almost immidetly after your accident..."

"Good, we can't lose them. But Medivh? And Khadgar?"

Morose hesitated.

"They both are... alive and conscious, but I can't say they got without a scratch. They are now resting and..."

Julia didn't wait for him to finish. She rushed out of the bed and, forcing herself to ignore the agonising pain, threw herself towards the door and corridor.

"Miss, you are almost naked!" yelled Morose after her, although he didn't seem to be really bothered. He knew too well that trifles like that wouldn't stop her.

Julia ran up the stars, jumping over a few steps at the time. She barged into the Medivh's chambers without a warning.

Both Medivh and Khadgar were in Guardian's main room. Medivh was sitting on the couch while Khadgar was standing in front of a mirror with a bowl of water standing next to him. Both men turned towards Julia almost immediately. The

Librarian first looked at Medivh, and after deciding that he was in an acceptable state, turned her gaze towards Khadgar, which caused her to gasp softly. She rushed towards him and then carefully reached her hand towards his face. The grey hair, wrinkles... she tried so hard to avoid this, and yet Khadgar still suffered the same fate of losing his youth.

"Oh, Khadgar..." she sighed sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"Come on, I know I shaved for the first time, but it can't be that bad," mage responded with a chuckle. His old voice broke Julia's heart. At least he still had his sense of humour. And his eyes... they still had that young spark.

"Hey, it's fine, really." Khadgar tried to comfort the Librarian. "At least I look smarter now. I just have to get used to having back pain after taking too many steps."

He finally managed to make the woman smile.

"Well, if this comforts you in any way, I think that you are a real silver fox now." She winked at him.

Khadgar laughed nervously and looked away with his cheeks getting bright red. He still was that innocent boy, after all.

"I'm glad that you both are in a mood for jokes," Medivh's cold voice brought their attention, "But it's not time for this."

Julia carefully studied Medivh's face. He looked... acceptable. His face had few wounds from where the demonic scales appeared before, he was also more pale than usual, and his eyes were sad and angry, but other than that, he looked alright.

"How do you feel?" she asked softly, taking a few steps towards him.

"Show me your back," Medivh ignored her question and stood up.

The Librarian hesitated. She was concerned about her friend and his well-being. After all, everything they did was for him, so she preferred to make sure he was fine first, but arguing with Medivh wouldn't work anyway. She sighed and turned her back towards the mage. Guardian started unwrapping her bandages, which caused Khadgar to blush furiously and look away.

"Don't be a prude, Khadgar. I need your help now," Medivh rebuked his apprentice and waved at him to join him.

Khadgar stood behind Julia, and both with Medivh looked at her naked back. The Librarian looked at the mirror to see their faces, which caused her to widen her eyes and tensing muscles from stress. Both men looked concerned, Khadgar even afraid.

"What is it? Is the wound not healing?" she asked in a worried voice.

"It's not that." Medivh shook his head. Then he pat Khadgar's arm and pointed at the woman's back. The apprentice understood immidetly as he rushed for a piece of paper and coal. While he was sketching, Medivh gently ran his hand through Julia's back.

"Do you remember if... I said anything during doing this?"

"It wasn't you, Med. It was Sargeras. Don't blame..."

"Answer my question," Medivh cut her and met her eyes in the mirror.

"You were just mocking me," Julia replied, resigned. "Calling me stupid and weak. Saying that I would be just as easy tool as you."

Khadgar and Medivh exchanged looks, which caused the Librarian to worry only more.

"What is it?"

Neither of them replied. Khadgar only gave her the piece of paper on which he was drawing her wound. The woman looked at the sketch and frowned. It wasn't a normal scar. It was some kind of a demonic symbol, like a summoning circle.

"Do you feel something inside of you? Some other presence?"

Julia quickly shook her head and turned towards Medivh. They eyes met as both of them were just as worried and confused about what was it. Khadgar finally broke and wrapped his coat around Librarian's body.

"I'm sorry, I can't..." he mumbled nervously, but neither of his friends paid attention to him.

"You... you aren't pregnant, right?" Medivh asked nervously, just as if it was the worst possibility, and then let go his breath when the Librarian shook her head again.

"Then, what does it mean?" Khadgar managed to get himself together enough to ask a question.

"I have no idea." Guardian looked away and bit his lip, as if his next words were about to be the hardest thing to say. "But I don't think you should stay in Karazhan, my lady..."

"Med, don't blame yourself." Julia grabbed his wrist. "You weren't in control, it was Sargeras, you..."

"It's not about blame, it's about your safety! You could still be in danger, we don't know what those runes do!"

"That's why I should stay in the place with answers!"

"That's why I'M gonna look for the answers, and YOU are gonna stay away!"

"What?! No-"

"Please, stop arguing!" Khadgar's desperate voice broke in between their yelling. "Master, Miss Librarian is right. It's not your fault, but now we both should help her."

For a moment, there was a cold silence. Medivh sat down and glued his eyes to the floor.

"It's my fault. Everything that happened is my fault. I hurt you, both of you. You are not safe with me."

"Bullshit." Julia joined him on the couch and put her hand on his arm. "I knew the risk, and I was ready to take it. You know what I know, that was my choice. You are alive and clean from Sargeras, and only that matters."

"I still don't understand." Khadgar also sat down. "It was your plan, Miss Librarian. Why didn't you wait for us?"

Julia looked up into Khadgar's young blue eyes, contrasting so much with his wrinkled face and grey hair. She wanted to avoid it so much...

"I thought I could do this on my own. I wanted to save you, I was afraid that you would get hurt. And you were..." She once again looked away, ashamed.

"Hey, you said it yourself. I'm a silver fox now." Khadgar chuckled and elbowed her gently. "We are all alive and only that matters."

"I still think you should leave. Both. For your own good." Medivh kept being in his depressive mood, unable to look up. His feeling of guilt was clearly visible for his friends.

Julia pulled him closer to her and hugged tightly.

"Shut up. We are staying with you, " she declared. Then she felt Khadgar's arm wrapping around her as he decided to join the hug.

"Yeah, Master. Respectfully - shut the fuck up. We are staying."

[rinwellisathing]

Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors Part 4

Enver tossed his coat and briefcase on one of the overstuffed couches in the cramped waiting room of his office as he returned to the trailer that night. His current security personnel, a tall red dragonborn and a burly half orc, both in Flaming Fist surplus (it certainly paid to have connections in the city) nodded to him as he entered the office and his personal assistant, a primly dressed tiefling woman with smooth black hair and purple skin, offered him the day's relevant files to look over before placing a glass of whiskey down on his desk for him and collecting her things. “Have a good night, Miss Everett.” Enver raised the glass to her. The woman nodded. “You as well, Mr. Gortash.”

Enver returned his focus to the papers on his desk, taking a sip from the whiskey glass and picking up one of the files, his eyes skimming over the words, barely able to focus. Most of these were legal documents found in the abandoned cars and campers of the family's victims, things Enver really wasn't 'dealing with' so much as making sure they disappeared to hinder identification. Still, it was always interesting to find out who these people had been. One never knew what a little knowledge, a little information, could be worth and so very often it paid to at least commit some things to memory. Besides that, he knew that for whatever reason, 'Papa' Sarevok expected his children to kill with a certain level of frequency. Sentry and Gary got antsy when they hadn't come across proper 'sacrifices' in a while and he would be lying if he said he didn't believe either man would turn on him if they were properly desperate. After all, that sense of danger was certainly part of what made fucking them so arousing. Still, Enver certainly didn't want to be their main course any time soon, and so he began to make note of some names and next of kin for past victims, people who might warrant an anonymous tip that maybe, just maybe, their loved one was still out there and in need of rescuing.

He wasn't sure how long he had been working when the scent of blood began to prick at his nostrils and a shadow cast over his paper before several were sent flying as a lean body flopped across his desk, those sharp, somewhat uneven teeth grinning up at him eagerly. “Hiiiii Envy.” Sentry grinned, pressing his blood slick fingers to the paper Enver was holding, pressing it down to look him in the eye. Enver sighed and shook his head but couldn't help but chuckle. “Sentry, what are you doing here at this hour?” “I got bored with my night time chores and the sacrifice won't be for hours, so I came to do a little extra credit for dear old dad...well, and do a solid for a friend.” He giggled. “I see, and you were so eager to see me again you just had to stop by...all covered in blood...tracking it into my office.” Enver blinked, peering past the tiefling and his eagerly wagging tail and towards the foot prints across the carpet. Sentry rolled his eyes. “Oh Fel will clean it up, you know him. They'll send him round to get me in a little while and he'll make it all good as new.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, but also this is sort of business as well as social, because I've got some stuff for you.” He reached into the pocket of his flannel and produced a fine leather wallet, several gaudy rings, and a gold pendant Enver recognized as being popular in Amn.

He looked over the things Sentry had handed him and squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply. “Sentry....These aren't from a tourist, are they?” The pretty tiefling shook his head, grin never leaving his face. “You killed your friend's boss, didn't you?” Enver sighed, rubbing his temples.

Sentry nodded, grin widening. “He was a prick anyway. I went to go talk to Rolan and see if he wanted anything I got from the car wreck earlier and his boss was there instead, he bitched at me for wasting time and said he'd fire my buddy.” “Did you at least clean up THAT mess?” “Don't worry, I hid him AND I made it look like 'The Mad Devil' did it in case anyone finds him.” Sentry grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Dragged the body to the abandoned diner and everything!” “And no one saw you doing that?” Enver asked with concern. “Nope! All the windows were dark, most people are in bed at this hour...” He hinted coyly. Enver relaxed just a bit, there was something enticing about the way the blood slicked Sentry's pale, freckled skin. The way it accentuated his silvery hair. He pressed a hand to the tiefling's face, pulling him into a kiss, earning a deep, sensual purr and a nip at his lips. He unbuttoned his own green silk shirt and climbed up onto the desk, taking Sentry's wrists in his hands and deepening the kiss as he felt the tiefling's tail wrap around his leg eagerly.

------ 'Rolan, Hey buddy! I know what you said about more cassette tapes but my big brother said they're cluttering up the house and I need to get rid of them. Sorry! Also something came up and I need to stop by the lawyer's place so I can't do the pub tonight, but here's some gold to cover your drinks cause I left you high and dry like this! Thanks! Sentry'

Rolan blinked as he looked from the hastily scrawled chicken scratch letter to the box of cassette tapes and various articles of clothing and boxes of miscellaneous items his friend had left on the counter. He raised an eyebrow, surprised Lorroakan hadn't shouted at Sentry and chased him out of the store for this. Or maybe he had, thus the letter. He shrugged. It was closing time anyway and at least his friend had left him some pub money, this was honestly preferable as now he had a night to himself.

He pocketed the gold and the letter, beginning to close down the store, deciding he would inventory, price, and stock this junk tomorrow. A small, nagging thought at the back of his head wondered where his boss had gotten to. Lorroakan was irresponsible and incompetent, yes, but certainly he wouldn't leave the store unattended? Rolan shook his head. Of course he would. He would do it and then blame Rolan if anything happened, yet another stupid cruel 'test' to make Rolan 'really earn that tuition money'. He rolled his eyes and scoffed with disgust at the thought as he made his way out the door and locked up before heading down the road to The Waning Moon. He was eager to have a moment of down time after work before Cal and Lia came home, so he didn't spare a second glance into the alley behind the shop where the bins were located and the fall air had given way to allergy season, dulling his sense of smell. He didn't pick up on the coppery scent of blood coming from the bins. ----- “Officer Zevlor, I had no idea they had expanded the high way up into these woods...and here I thought they were protected habitat or whatever it is those druids preach.” Sheriff Z'rell was a tall, imposing female orc dressed in the dark grey uniform of Reithwin's Finest. Her arms were folded across her chest as she stalked a circle around Zevlor, looking him up and down with a smug sense of satisfaction, having caught him out of his jurisdiction. “Or could it be you're trying to act on my territory again? With your crackpot theories about murder cults and cannibals?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You've seen too many bad movies, sir, and people around here don't take kindly to your haughty little city boy stereotypes.” “There was a wreck on the side of the road, Z'rell. I thought they might have come up this way looking for help.”Zevlor replied evenly. It wasn't entirely untrue, that WAS his initial thought, the idea that the family in that house might be up to no good was really secondary technically.

“Kar'niss and the others are hauling it to town as we speak. We take our jobs seriously here. Why don't you do the smart thing and get back to your beat? Or, if you really need a breather that badly, pop into The Waning Moon for a spell.” Z'rell took a step towards him, neatly between him and the clearest path towards the house now. The tiefling frowned, eyes narrowed as he looked from Z'rell to the house and then back the way he came. Pushing down a wave of anger, he weighed his options and let his expression soften, swallowing his pride and turning around. “I'll be at The Waning Moon, then. If the owners of the car show up, would you let me know? Just so I can get back to HQ with a resolution.” He sighed. Z'rell smirked. “Of course, so long as Judge Ketheric doesn't find anything questionable, no probable cause to detain them. Moonrise County business comes first, you understand.” Zevlor forced a smile and nodded. “Of course, Sheriff.”

----- Jaina could hear voices outside the bedroom door, she gently shook Wyll awake, brow furrowed as she listened intently to try and pick up what they were saying, but they sounded angry. One she recognized as the drow they'd met in the woods, but the other two hadn't spoken as much at dinner, so she was having trouble placing them. Her best guess was the dragonborn and the imposing human. “The father made him for you, Chosen. He is your responsibility.” One of the voices growled. “Already you let him run amok and reach beyond his place, I warned you this is what would come of indulging him.” “Well, at least we're beyond the denying him who he is bullshit, so that's progress.” A smooth, dangerous male voice cut in, the subtle reptilian hiss to it probably meant this was the Dragonborn. “At any rate, brother Sentry is young, but he understands how important tonight is, he will come when he's called.”

“Well time's running out and he was supposed to come right back after he took that shit to the incinerator. Worse than that, Orin refuses to listen to me, she's insisting she doesn't have to. He did that, it's his influence!” The Drow snapped. “Or the fact that you whine more than you actually contribute.” The Dragonborn replied lazily. “I know you're going to protest 'but Gary, I brought the sacrifices!' and you did. Good for you. But how long has it been since you've made a proper offering to father that wasn't a group effort?”

“I....that highway patrol guy....he's got an eye on me!” The drow sputtered. “Then be creative. Hunt somewhere else or make him your target.” The dragonborn sneered. “Now I know a big, strong patrolman with weapons is probably too big an ask for you, brother, but there is an entire commune of peaceful druids down in the valley ripe for the picking and yet you never bother.”

The conversation continued as Jaina leaned in close to Wyll. “Sacrifices?” “I heard that too” He nodded, frowning nervously towards the door. “I think it's time we found a way out of here.” Jaina inclined her head in agreement, scooting out of bed and making her way over to the window, attempting to open it with some effort before the strain in her arms became too much. Her eyes scanned the top for any sort of latch or lock, only to find that it had been broken off, leaving the window jammed. “Shit...” “Hey, what about this?” Wyll nodded towards a strange slat in the wall, about large enough for someone to perhaps crouch into. He pushed it open, revealing ropes hanging down. “A dumbwaiter.” “But what if it leads right into one of their rooms? Or worse, some kind of....I dunno, ritual chamber?” Jaina asked, gripping her upper arms nervously. “Is that any more dangerous than staying here and waiting for their brother to come back?” Wyll asked. “I guess not...” Jaina looked anxiously at the hole. ----- Alfira bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, breathing heavily. She threw off the covers and stumbled to her feet, hurrying blearily to the window and pulling back the curtain. Slowly, she pushed the window up to get a little fresh air, the nightmare still vivid in her mind. She was awake, she was safe. She was in her apartment in the back of the radio station back in sleepy little Reithwin Town, not the bloodstained performing arts building back at Elturgarde College. She told herself it had already been almost two years since Lihala's death, even if they somehow still hadn't caught the killer, whoever it was was a long way away.

She peered back towards the bed, watching the gentle ebb and flow of Lakrissa's soft breath as she slept, even letting the occasional snort or snore calm her and bring a smile of relief to her face. She was warm, alive, waiting for her. This was silly, nightmares couldn't hurt Alfira any more than those dumb horror movies her girlfriend loved so much. She turned to give one last glance out the window, the crescent sign reading 'Waning Moon' blinked in the distance and the night was quiet other than the low buzz of that and the few other neon signs that were still on. And another buzz, a different one, more frantic and uneven. The smell of blood tinged the night air somewhere nearby and Alfira tried to tell herself this was a hallucination, a side effect of the nightmare, but no. She heard flies buzzing and she smelled blood. Warily, she closed the window, flicking the lock on it before going to pull her hoodie from the door knob and slip on her canvas sneakers, grabbing her keys from the table as she slowly and quietly made her way out of her apartment. A small part of her was screaming at her to go back to bed, whatever this was didn't concern her, she was putting herself in unnecessary danger over something that wasn't her business. Another part still told her it was just some unlucky animal a dog or cat had gotten to, something so mundane and unimportant...But if it was, she needed to know that for a fact. She reasoned that she could not safely return to her bed without making certain that was all this was.

She slowly made her way down the side street and into the back alley between Sorcerous Salvage and Last Light FM, moving as quietly and cautiously as she was able. She barely even breathed, afraid that slightest bit of sound would cost her everything, and when she finally reached the bins behind the shop, she swiftly covered her mouth with her hands and bit back a scream of terror as she saw the carnage that awaited her there. ---- Rolan looked up as he heard the bell above the bar's door ring, signifying someone else entering the establishment which he seemed determined to remain in as long as possible. His eyes darted towards the door and as quickly as he'd looked over, he turned back to his drink, face flushed and head lowered as that highway patrol officer, handsome...well...if you liked older men that is, Rolan supposed, entered the bar and approached the counter, taking a seat a few down from him. “Ah! Patrolman! Welcome! What're you drinking tonight?” Thisobald boomed enthusiastically, bringing down a dubiously clean mug and placing it in front of Zevlor. “Ah...whiskey, I suppose...no ice...” Zevlor murmured, accepting the drink as the boisterous barman poured it for him. There was something in his voice, Rolan noticed. A note of worry. The younger tiefling decided to ignore it. It wasn't his business and anyway, Zevlor's looks didn't negate the fact that he was an outsider here sticking his nose in local business and making things difficult. Rolan hated that do-gooder nonsense. He'd learned all his life you keep your head down and watch out for your own, it had served him well so far, and it was what would eventually get him and his siblings out of here and to the city. Still, he couldn't help but spare the occasional glance at Zevlor, curious what was bothering him.

As the two drank in silence, the door jingled again and Alfira stumbled in, eyes wide with terror, struggling to find the words to say. She was dressed in pajamas still, a hoodie and sneakers haphazardly thrown on and her hair still wild from sleep. All three men looked at her, Rolan's eyes wide with surprise, Zevlor's face brimming with concern, and Thisobald pulling down another mug. “T....There......He....It's....oh gods.....” Alfira whimpered between small frightened sobs. “Take a deep breath, girl. We're listening.” Zevlor held out his hands in a gesture of peace. “There's been a murder.” Alfira managed, sinking into a chair and breathing heavily.