#aloth: he licked it. he fucking licked it.

[zwierzodudle]

the forgotten sanctum dlc sure is something

[yanara126-writing]

The Adventures of Hildraed Dawnsbane - Interlude 1 (2/?)

Farmer, Pirate, Menace, Captain, Dawnsbane. Hildraed has many titles, she really could have lived well without Watcher.

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Read here or on Ao3. (1641 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

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Aloth hadn’t exactly expected much from this place, it was at best a mudhole, and at worst something that he would prefer not to voice. Still, Gilded Vale had somehow managed to disappoint him. Not only was he alone without any guidance, he was now also being threatened with immediate disembowelment. In the dark and rain. Woedica have mercy on him.

“I meant no offense. Let's put this matter to rest over a round, shall we? My treat.” Not that he particularly wanted to spend more of his coin here, but better coin than blood.

The man before him narrowed his eyes at him even more, the bloodshot red of his eyes sending shivers down Aloth’s back as memories shot through his uninvited. He didn’t much register the drunkards next words, but he couldn’t possibly miss as… she suddenly surged forward, sending a painful stab into his brain that had his stars dance in front of his eyes. When the sight was clear again, it wasn’t only the drunkard’s eyes that were red, instead his whole face was a dep red, and the anger had morphed into a blind rage.

He wanted to step back, but his feet were rooted to the ground. Hot and cold shivers ran through his body as he stared in horror, desperately trying to stutter out apologies for whatever she’d said. Somehow he managed to slowly reach for his grimoire, not that it would do him much good in a fight three against one.

Suddenly loud laughter rang from behind the three drunkards, splitting the night and boiling atmosphere with the coldness of shock. It was an ugly sort of laughter, loud and bellowing and dry, none of the refined, tasteful chuckles of his home.

When his opponents turned around to see whoever had snuck up only to bark their soul out with laughter, Aloth too risked shifting his attention behind them.

When he first saw the woman, he thought she was a walking dead. On the second look he could concede that she probably wasn’t, but only by a hair’s breadth. Even in the dark he could see her skin was paler than it seemed to usually be, blanched of colour and warmth. Her brown hair was hanging down her face in sticky strand, covered in some sort of substance that Aloth didn’t care to consider further. Her clothes seemed practical but not cheap, which made him wince even more at their state. They were ripped in places, dirty (and probably bloody from the looks of it), and generally mistreated, in a way that made Aloth feel self-conscious about himself.

It took her quite a while to somewhat calm down again, though she didn’t seem to mind the four people watching her with morbid fascination as she smeared dirt even further over her weathered features.

When she looked up again, directly into his eyes, Aloth felt the icey fear from before return. Three against one was already bad, four would be worse. And something about her sharp stare directly into his soul told him that should she choose to end him, he would not survive.

She stepped forward and Aloth gripped his grimoire and felt his knuckles turn white.

“Ah well, now that we have that absolute gem of an accusation, how about you all fuck off and get to keep your innards for another day.” Surprise and relief flooded him as she turned her attention to his assailants, even he cringed at both the roughness of her voice and words. He doubted the drunkards would take the not very subtle hint.

“Ay, we don’t like getting told what to do by outsiders!” Of course not. Still he wasn’t fast enough, his fingers fumbling just a bit too long with the heavy book to prevent the first punch from being thrown.

Though when he finally had it out, he was too stunned to react either way. The woman fought like a typhoon, dodging hits and decking out punches with a speed that he hadn’t expect from one looking so battered. Neither had their opponents apparently, and the fight was over as quickly as it had begun. He wasn’t sure the bodies on the ground were still breathing.

The woman certainly was though, gasping for and listing slightly to the side, eyes now unfocused and almost slightly misted.

He licked his lips, looking for the right words to say. He now had confirmation that he did not want to anger this woman.

“Well… Thank you for that.” A rather listless thanks, but at least a thanks nonetheless. A snort was his answer, followed by an ugly sounding spitting sound as a clomp of blood landed on the ground.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are- are you alright?” On the one hand he wanted to kick himself for not taking the opportunity and just leaving, but now she was listing even further, eyes starting to cross a little, and he was genuinely she was about to just keel over. And now matter how frightening she seemed, she had just saved his hide. Just letting her faint here would be at very least bad manners.

“Do I look like it?” Her eyes focused just enough on him to give him the same disappointed stare his teachers had given him every time he’d failed to give an answer, and Aloth shrunk back a little.

“N-no?”

“No, that’s right lad.” She sighed and fished a hairs strand from her mouth, staring at instead of him now with the same disappointment.

Despite the very strange circumstances and the fact that he healthily intimidated by her, now that the immediate danger of disembowelment was over, he felt strangely drawn to her. She was certainly a character, and a far more capable one than he’d first expected. Looking at her more closely (and pushing away his disgust), he found a fine scar down the side of her face, and a vaguely familiar looking tattoo on the other, though he couldn’t place it in the moment. On her back she carried a sword, somewhat hidden by her bulky cloak. A little surprised by his own boldness he made decision, fuelled by desperation to get out of this mudhole and find his contact, and also by an ever stronger burning curiosity.

“Nevertheless, you have my thanks, and perhaps I could be service to you as well. How about I buy you a drink and we can discuss an arrangement?” Expectedly he watched her, but seconds ticked by, and she didn’t react, just still continuously staring at her hair with a far-off look. Insecurity crept back in. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended her somehow?

Suddenly she blinked up at him again, looking at his still halfway open mouth for second before answering in slurred words.

“Look lad, I’m far too tired for any of this and I heard exactly nothin’ you just said, so I’ll throw myself in there, and if you’re still there tomorrow, we can have a talk.” Not waiting for a response she staggered forward and past him in direction of the inn, all the odd grace from the battle lost. With her wobbling steps Aloth was surprised she was walking at all.

When her shoulder hit the inn’s doorframe and she let out an angry shout he winced and hurried forward without much thinking. Attempting to avoid the filthiest spots of her sleeve he grabbed her elbow and gently pulled further inwards and away from the walls before he could really think about it.

The way to the inn’s counter wasn’t far, and somehow still felt very long. What was he doing? He could have left, he could have let her go herself, he could have just run, but now he was here, dragging her along and standing far too close to this woman he didn’t know and who had very much proven to be dangerous. That was it, he assured himself. He just didn’t want to and up on her bad side. Yes.

The woman behind the counter sent him a both concerned and suspicious look, and really he couldn’t fault her. Even if she hadn’t heard the commotion outside, he was dragging along a filthy and bloody woman by the arm, who was stumbling like she had only drunk liquor the last seven weeks. He sent her a what he hoped was an apologetic look and walked by her as quickly as possible by the ever-heavier weight on his side, and as the woman was sagging further and further into him and he away.

When they finally reached the common room, it felt like an eternity had passed. Still he somehow expected her to jump up and deck him too. She did no such thing however, and now he was standing in front of an empty bunk, without any idea of what to do. Lacking another option aside from throwing her onto the bunk, he gingerly let go, hoping she would just lay down herself. Instead she keeled over as soon as he let go. Too late to still catch her, Aloth could only watch her slam into the hard bunk with a bang and he cringed, expecting a sound of pain.

Once again she surprised him, as she completely ignored her hard contact with the cot if she’d even noticed it, instead giving a hum of relief and relaxing into the uncomfortable surface.

Finally Aloth sighed. What even was this day? What was this week? This year? His whole life really. Gingerly he massaged his hurting temple, knowing full well it wouldn’t help. He’d just wanted to leave.

Alas, now he might as well stay another night and satisfy his curiosity. A heavy feeling of something settling into his stomach he found another empty bench to sleep, questioning until deep into the night if he’d made the right choice.

[secretsfromwholecloth]

Deadfire, day 10.

It’s a little odd to hear Edér in the DLCs occasionally address the Watcher as “Watcher”. I don’t remember him doing that much if at all before.

I don’t know why I didn’t get the quest to fetch the Titan’s Heart at the same time as all the others, but I guess I’m taking an extra trip back to Neketaka. Well, if there’s any way to get the thing without being caught stealing and having to murder everyone in Wakoyo’s office, this is the playthrough to discover it.

Answer: I thought there wasn’t and I would just have to get murdering, but then I stole the thing and didn’t get caught? Huh. I’ll take it!

Either rogues are ridiculously powerful or I’m getting less bad at the combat in this game, because so far the fights I was afraid of and kicked down the difficulty for have been hilariously, “maybe I ought to try them on Relaxed next time” easy. Mind, I’ll probably regret all my life choices if I actually do that.

So, stick around to level up people’s soulbound gear a bit more? Yeah, I think so. Nice of the game to make all the arena fights repeatable.

This is the first playthrough where I bothered using traps, so I only just now got the achievement for using five of them. Which is the last one I’m ever likely to get, looking at what’s left.

Either Edér is impervious to just about everything or I’m picking the wrong fights, because his shield needs him to get hit with afflictions to level up, and it’s not going very quickly.

All right, Anlaf and Konstanten are done with their pieces, and Edér will have plenty more opportunities. Time to pack it in and get started on The Forgotten Sanctum.

If you heard a faint squeeing noise just now, that was me.

Sadly for me, with a Watcher with no support abilities, I can’t bring both Rekke and Aloth along; one of them will have to cede their spot to a healer. So which will it be? Neither is the star of the DLC, but they both got a lot of love from it; Aloth got a lot of attention in the early and mid-game but hasn’t been in the party for a while now, whereas I just had Rekke along for much of BoW and all of SSS, but that was the first time I actually used him. You know what, I think I’ll keep Rekke, and our new and improved ranged-weapon-using Xoti can be the healer. I don’t think I’ve ever brought her along for TFS—even Oriol tore himself from her side to get Rekke, Fassina, and Aloth into the party.

Grinning all through Tayn’s introductory conversation, as usual. I like Tayn. He’s the same kind of fuckup I am, just slightly less of one.

Oh gods, the drug trip. Edér and Rekke’s lines are classic, but I do wish Fassina had something to say for herself there.

I’d say Tayn and Edér need to be friends, but no, they absolutely do not need to be friends. There’s no way that ends well for Eora.

Is...oh no. Xoti? Are you starting a screaming argument with Edér? Is that what this is?

Oh. No, this isn’t a screaming argument, this is something entirely different. Xoti, you said you were over him. Was that a lie to try and get Anlaf into your bunk, or did you get over him and then get un-over him? (There’s a pun in here somewhere about getting under him, but the whole point of this exchange is that she hasn’t and wants to.)

You know, 27-year-old Xoti calling 37-year-old Edér “a little old” is an absolutely valid opinion, but my experience and the norms of my ethnic community right on up to my mother’s generation leave me eyebrowing a bit. (Disclosure: I’m 36 myself, which may or may not be influencing my view of this.)

I’m just going to sit here and have feelings about the presence of the “Hands off. Edér’s mine.” option, though Anlaf certainly won’t be taking that one. (Clelia and Eiheune never got this conversation, but even if they had, that wouldn’t have been their reaction—Clelia would’ve whistled for the rest of the OT4 to witness the possible new addition to the polycule, and Eiheune would’ve shrugged and been like, that’s between you two, I’ll talk to him about it later.)

I’m very bad at portraying romance, yes. But I’m far worse at portraying monogamy.

The “Have you shown him your...charms?” option? No. No, don’t. She’ll actually go and do it. Possibly right here in front of two archmages, three imps, the rest of the party, and a bunch of mysterious tentacles.

Xoti’s story about trying to catch him half-asleep and then get him drunk into the bargain to lower his resistance = XOTI NO. Her getting a couple of approval bumps from Edér for telling it in a jokey way is just the icing on the fucked-up cake here.

And you know, I gave her enough time with Maia that they started throwing up romance banters, so I officially wash my hands of Xoti’s love life.

Anyway. I was heading to the Archives before I got sidetracked, right? Right.

...no, I apparently do not have a sufficiently ridiculous Mechanics score to pick the lock without dispelling the illusion first.

I’ve got some feelings about the note from Galven Regd about how everything we know about the War of Black Trees is a lie.

And some very different feelings about the manual for the flesh construct controller. If there’s one part of this series that’s ripe for kinkshaming, it’s this DLC. :D

I’m letting Rekke knock over all the book piles, because he seems to find it funniest out of everyone in the party. You’re welcome, kiddo.

I’m going to pronounce “Llengrath” with initial /ɬ/ and no one can stop me.

Oh, the mycelium in the Central Stacks. “The fungus shivers at your blow. Possibly in pleasure.” Yep, kinkshaming time.

The only inconvenient thing about giving Xoti a ranged weapon is that she hangs back too far from the front lines for her Circle of Protection to cover the melee squad. Protecting Fassina is better than nothing, but still.

Do you really think I’m not going to lick the runes when given the opportunity?

Sure, Rekke, go ahead and lick them too if you want.

So, Xoti, that Waidwen’s a cutie, isn’t he? The sort you might write erotic fiction about if you were that way inclined? You, uh, wouldn’t know anything about this book here, would you?

I can’t read “A True and Accurate Account of the Ten’s Final Stand” without having it in the back of my mind that Edér was 17 when the Godhammer went off. Seventeen! Imagining him as a skinny kid with only one-third of a clue what he’s doing, becoming Divine King of the Dyrwood or whatever the fuck and going to his death on that bridge...yeesh, it’s painful enough to think about Waidwen, who was at least a grown man when it all went down.

Oh, hello, fungus Llengrath. Ahem. It’s rude to stare, you know. Even if the eyeball falls off and rolls away afterwards.

Fyonlecg, I do enjoy listening to your VA, but you’re being very tedious right now. You and your creepy remote-controlled worm body.

The archmages’ opining on the Hand Occult falls squarely into Does This Remind You Of Anything territory, heh.

I love hearing Concelhaut complaining about everything. And you can’t do a godsdamned thing about any of it, you horrible old skull.

And I’m just going to sit here and have a metric fuckton of feelings about Bekarna, while I’m at it.

And there’ll be more fun stuff in the morning, it’s rather late.