#and half me wanting the cast of arcane to be happy and get along

[bruh-anator3000]

I want an Arcane holiday special where everyone looses their stuff. Like Vi can't find her jacket, Caitlyn somehow lost her gun. Ekko's pocket watch mysteriously vanished and Jayce can't find the Hextech crystals as Viktor stumbles around without his cane. Mel can't find any of her art supplies. They all get one hint. It's painted over one of Mel's scrapped works. It's on the chalkboard of the lab. On the hoverboard Ekko was fixing up. It's on the floor of Cait's bedroom. "Meet at the bridge," is scribbled underneath each monkey drawing.

When they all get there, they find their stuff used as holiday decorations. Ekko's watch is being displayed at the top of Viktor's cane. It's wrapped with with a string that connects all Hextech crystals on a garland. Vi's jacket is on a snowman that oddly enough, looks like her, thin and short twigs making her tattoo on the snowman's cheek. Caitlyn's gun is hung and an assortment of socks hang from it. All their names terribly stitched onto the colored coordinated stockings. Most of Mel's paint used to brighten up the place, random assortment of lines and shapes traced on the cement of the bridge.

Jinx pops out of the largest present with a Santa hat on, confetti bursting from her guns. No one can stay mad at her, she put in all this effort to create a make-shift Christmas party. They can get their stuff back when its done, now? Now Jinx wants to hand out presents.

Vi loves her sister, but she's stuck to Cait's side, trying to hide from the cold on her bare arms. Caitlyn doesn't mind. She just feels bad her girlfriend is freezing in the other Santa hat Jinx gave to her. Ekko is following Jinx around, getting all the details on how she managed to rob everyone in one night. She replies, "If that fat man Santa can do it, so can I!" Ekko doesn't correct her, only grabbing another hot chocolate for them.

Mel does question Jinx on what techniques she used to cover such a vast space with so little time and paints. Jinx shrugs with a cheeky smile, saying she's always managed to make every mess bigger. Mel can't deny the anger that bouls in her that her arts were taken and used but she can't deny the smile either. She considered her art more abstract than most, but Jinx showed no structure in her strokes. Only going with how her mind thought. Maybe Mel could try that techniques out herself.

Viktor stayed seated most of the night, feeling more and more guilty every time he'd tug on Jayce's sleeve to ask for something. Jayce had no issue, happily grabbing his lab partner whatever he wanted. But eventually, Jayce got a little cheeky. He helped Viktor get to the bridge with his arm around his broad shoulders earlier. Viktor said it was embarrassing to be lugged around, Jayce's height making it worse. So, to soothe Viktor's embarrassment, Jayce scooped his partner up instead of him practically dangling from his shoulders and showed him around Jinx's party.

Overall, the night went well. Toasts were made. Laughs were shared. Trauma forgotten. Because the holiday season is being with people who make you feel at home. And Jinx wanted to let them know through her own way, they meant a lot to her.

[that-random-chaos-entity]

How does your OC display love? What are some habits your OC has picked up?

Forgive me as this is a LONG post, but I felt it would be better to show, rather than tell, this one:

Words could not describe how awkward Perturabo felt being back in the Emperor's palace. It would have been bad enough if it were just his deadbeat father, a half-rotten corpse sitting in an overglorified golden life-support casket, ignoring him as per usual. But it wasn't just his father; so many of his brothers had come for this... ...this Sanguinala... ...in many ways it almost felt like the Heresy had never happened.

Vulcan, Corvus, Fulgrim, ROGAL FUCKING DORN, Magnus.... ...hell, even SANGUINIUS had come back from the dead. Raised by the same mysterious chaos entity that had turned Perturabo's world and soul inside out. Made him live his own life over and over again, through the eyes of the people around him, until he got the point. The people he impacted. The people he used, abused, and destroyed without a second thought. The people he...

...Perturabo shook his head, the physical action somehow dislodging the poisonous psychic tumor from his soul. Even though that parasite was long gone and the Eye of Terror no longer loomed over him, it had been feeding on his twisted spirit for so long that its blasted and withered hide still bled for it. Casting his self-destructive thoughts into the warp. This was a good thing (or so the Lanky Llama said). Though sometimes, when he started to brood and sulk, things would get... ...gummed up. He could shake any errant clots loose himself, but nobody helped the darkness bleed out of him like Nehetari.

And holy shit did he wish she were here right now. When she and her robotic people were around... ...the Lord of Iron actually felt like... ...himself. Or the version of himself that he wanted to be, anyway.

But no, "No xenos allowed at a family gathering," the Emperor had said. Not that it even would have mattered if they were; it was one of those weird weeks where the lanky llama disappeared on him and holed up in her room by herself. Something about a "Necrontyr biological cycle," that would, "likely make her act inappropriately," or "embarrass herself and him," but she would say no more on the matter.

Of course it would happen over the day when he needed--erm could have used her presence the most.

"Aren't you going to open your gifts, brother?"

Perturabo snapped out of his brooding to see Magnus looming beside him. It took him a second to process what he said, but when he did he scowled.

"Gifts Magnus? Really? Do think anyone here would ever give me a gift?"

"Excuse me! What am I, grox manure!?" there was no real irritation in Magnus's voice. He gestured to table in front of Perturabo, where three gifts sat that he could have SWORN were not there before. "And if you must know, you're the only brother here I saw fit to even GET a gift for."

"Aside from Sanguinius."

"Well... ...yeah..." the Crimson King shuffled his wings awkwardly. Both primarchs stole a glance at the MOUNTAIN of gifts that their brother had received. "...b-but he doesn't count."

Perturabo sighed. He didn't feel like feeling jealous of Sanguinius right now. Instead he grabbed the first package; it was obviously Magnus's gift. Whatever was in it was so warp-touched that it levitated a solid three feet off the table and changed size randomly. It turned out to be a small inter-dimensional rift that contained a book of arcane engineering, one that Perturabo had surprisingly not seen before. He thanked his brother; something that drew a surprised look from Magnus and a complimentary hug that Turbo awkwardly returned. The second gift was from Sanguinius, as it turned out, and when he opened the box he saw his own face, reflected in a simple yet elegant mirror. After a moment of wondering if this gift was actually meant for Fulgrim (clone fulgrim), he saw the inscription on the box lid which read, "to my big brother: it brings me joy to see happiness in your eyes now. I hope with this you can see it too."

Perturabo swore under his breath and slammed the box shut, furiously hoping that Magnus hadn't heard him sniffle just a tiny little bit. It was a moving gift to be sure, but after everything that had happened... ...somehow it just made the Lord of Iron feel like garbage. Well... ...more so than usual.

Thankfully, quick-thinking Magnus directed his brother's attention to the third gift. In fact, if he didn't know better, Perturabo would have sworn Magnus seemed even MORE excited for him to open this gift than his own.

"What is... ...is this from...?"

"MHMMM!" Magnus's enthusiasm was all-consuming, his grin audible in his tone. "She asked me come and pick it up from outside her door earlier this morning."

Perturabo's melancholy dissipated into a wave of curiosity. What sat before him was a perfect cube of blackstone, though if he knew anything about Nehetari, he knew that wasn't all there was to it.

Sure enough, when he picked it up, glyphs flashed along its side.

"Is... ...that..."

"Necrontyr," Perturabo murmured in deep concentration. "...and not just any form of Necrontyr; this is Ksakhemet Script."

"What?"

"Think of it as our high gothic. Except it's as if we had a high, HIGH gothic. Only the three Necrontyr kings and their families even knew how to speak this script, let alone how to read and write it. It is ancient, according to Nehetari... ...it's from a time even before the Necrontyr first started their galactic expansion."

Those statements alone were like a different language to Magnus, but his lust for ancient knowledge ignited like a blazing inferno. He would absolutely have to grill both Perturabo AND his xenos companion for more information once she was.... ...*ahem* no longer indesposed.

Perturabo turned the cube over and over in his hands, reading the ornate lettering as best he could. He'd only just started learning how to read Ksakhemet; he couldn't speak it properly because he lacked the extensive Necrontyr vocal range, but the lettering started to make sense the more he plied his fantastic mind.

"It is... ...a puzzle cube. I believe."

"D'AAWWW... How sweet...!"

Perturabo punched his brother in the shoulder, but it phased through his immaterial form.

"Shut your mouth!" He could already feel the heat creeping up his neck and he HATED it. Although he had to admit he was a little touched, if amused, that Nehetari had put together such a... ...thought-out gift.

And well-thought-out it was indeed! It became clear to the Lord of Iron that this wasn't just some slide and lock, physics based puzzle toy for mortal children. It was a custom-made testing tool designed to challenge his understanding of spacial compression, sub-atomic energy transfer, and even Necrontyr cultural theory. Each segment was challenging, unique, and soon he found himself absorbed. Magnus tagged along for the ride of course, and his respect for Nehetari grew each time he heard his brother growl in frustration, or give a small "...Ha! So that's it..."

"She has... ...quite the impressive mind. Especially for a xenos."

Perturabo grunted his affirmation. "...you don't know the half of it. She makes the Hrud look like a bunch of children." With a click the puzzle changed shape in his hands again, "...I would even say she has a mind similar to ours."

"...you don't say..."

"Hmph, she's DEFINITELY smarter than Dorn. I know that for sure."

Magnus chuckled. Of course she was.

The Lord of Iron didn't realize it immediately, but the puzzle cube was meant to serve another function, not just being an intriguing mental exercise. The more he fidgeted with it, the more time passed. Not by some technomantic power or magical means; he was just so absorbed in Nehetari's gift that he didn't notice his brothers packing up their gifts and starting to drift around and away from the throne room. Magnus, realizing he wouldn't be much help with this exercise, had taken notice of the custodes' Captain General (the one they call "kitten") and had begun to chat with him. Sanguinius was now at the Emperor's side, trying to pacify an impatient and belligerent Angron who just wanted to go celebrate Khornnuka with Lotara and Kharn. Corvus had dissapeared to... ...somewhere, and Vulkan was... ....had he somehow jackknifed himself into the psychic fireplace that the Emperor created!? Russ was laughing at him and drinking himself stupid (not that he had many IQ points to lose in the first place), but thankfully nobody was paying any attention to Turbo. Huh, who'd have thought; Perturabo was actually HAPPY that he was being ignored right now.

With a satisfying ding the cube shifted again, and to his surprise, glyphs flashed indicating that this was, in fact, the final challenge.

"Let's have it then. I'm ready..." the Lord of Iron grinned. He flicked the raised pad below the text and the final task scrolled across blackstone. Surprisingly, this time it was in High Gothic.

"...who is... ...my... ...favorite... ...human?"

He stared at the screen, dumbfounded. "Really? After all that, the last puzzle, is 'who's my favorite human?' Really?"

But wait... ...was the answer actually as easy as it appeared? Perturabo wanted to put his own name, but what if he was wrong? What if he wasn't her favorite human? He was hardly even "human" in the first place. Maybe she meant a true, normal human? But if this was supposed to be a present for him, why would she blatantly make him answer that her favorite human WASN'T him. What if...

"Hey nerd, the answer's obviously you."

Perturabo jumped to see Leman Russ passing him.

"What the-! Whe-how did you... ...you can't read!" Perturabo stammered. There was no way Leman just waltzed over here...

The Wolf Lord grinned, "Hey, ye nerds aren't the only ones who know how teh learn things. If I taught meself teh read Fenrisian runes, I can teach meself teh read some wolfin' High Gothic!"

"..."

"...that and I may or may not have used some of meh own psychic powers to read yer mind. You know, teh fill in teh blanks."

Considerably less impressed, Perturabo grumbled as he keyed the letters of his name into the cube. With another ding and a flash of green light, previously invisible cracks along the cube's surface began to glow and the cube began to shift one last time. When it finished, a tiny black tray was left in its place, revealing... ...a letter? And a pict?

"What's all this now?" Leman reached towards the tray.

Perturabo snatched it away, "Fuck off Russ! This is MY gift!"

"Oooh, is this from yer GIRLFRIEND!?"

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!!"

"Hey fuck you Leman!" Oh boy, here comes Magnus, "Like you could ever understand the subtlety and genius that went into that puzzle box! Let him enjoy his gift in peace!"

"LeT HiM eNjOy HiS gIfT iN pEaCe!" Leman crooned. "Shut her trap and go back teh yer boyfriend, yeh big red canary."

Magnus puffed up in outrage and looked about ready to turn Leman inside out. When Perturabo noticed Sanguinius inbound, no doubt to dissolve the impending battle, he took his chance to dip out. And by "dip out" I mean grab the tray and its contents, and duck under the table. It would hide him for all of a second, but that would be as long as it would take him to read the letter.

Or it would have, if Leman hadn't, SOMEHOW, been able to reach the tray before him. He snatched up the letter, practically from between Perturabo's fingers, and with utter horror the Lord of Iron watched as his brother brandished the page, cleared his throat, and began to read:

"Perturabo..."

"FUCK YOU LEMAN THAT'S NOT YOURS!!" Magnus howled. Perturabo roared in fury. Both brothers made a mad lunge at the Wolf Lord but he dodged, shit-eating grin on his face as he continued reading.

"...Perturabo,

I'm sorry, but I...."

"....failed you?"

At the mention of the word "failed", Perturabo's onslaught faltered, as did Magnus's. Leman's grin died on his lips as he read the next line, his eyes widening for a moment before they squeezed shut. He then passed the letter back to Perturabo, mumbled a barely audible apology, turned, and without a word walked off.

"That's not what I... ...uh... ...expected?" Magnus muttered. "He looked like a kicked pup. What did that letter..."

Perturabo clutched the paper looking the most feral Magnus had ever seen him.

"...you know what, never mind. That letter's meant for you anyway." He added quickly. "I'll be in the library if you need me, brother."

And just like that, Perturabo was alone. Well, mostly; the Emperor was still there, but he was oddly quiet. Sanguinius was watching him too, but from a discreet distance.

The Lord of Iron backed up into the corner of the room, still riled up but looking a little less crazy. Once he was satisfied that NOBODY ELSE would attempt to confiscate his stuff, he finally began to read what Nehetari wrote for him.

"Perturabo,

I am sorry, but I failed you. You said you wanted your brothers' appreciation for a Sanguinala gift, but of all the ones I interviewed asking for an appreciative memory they have of you, the only ones who gave me a response were your brothers Magnus and Sanguinius. So instead I instigated a situation to make one (please reference the included image). If your brother's expressions are to be believed, then I believe they all enjoyed attacking your snow bunker. I certainly enjoyed helping you defend it.

May you have a somber and pleasant celebration,

The Mehlrose,

Nehetari of the Szarekhan Dynasty.

Heir to the Silent Throne."

...Perturabo couldn't believe it.

He's asked for that as a JOKE. He hadn't actually been serious. When she's approached him, asking what he wanted as a "Sanguinala gift," he'd been in the middle of a complicated programming script and had said that just to get the point across that he didn't want to be bothered.

Slowly, and with a shaking hand, he lifted the pict from the tray and turned it over.

And she was right. This shot must have been taken by one of her tunneling scarabs. Or maybe one of her guard as they were circling the perimeter, hurling snow and distracting Russ. But however it was taken, somehow it was able to get a perfect shot of every primarch, including himself and Nehetari, hurling fucking snow or getting completely dunked on, but every single one of them had varying degrees of stupid fucking grin on their faces. Even Corvus was smiling!

It struck him: had that been her plan all along?

Minutes passed, and finally the Emperor himself spoke up. "My son, you're shaking like a Dark Elder nightclub on a Tuesday."

Perturabo didn't hear him. It took everything he had just to hold the pict in his trembling hands.

Why? Why. Why would she bother. How did she... ...why, why, why WHY? HOW!? When did she even have the TIME to plan this out!? There was no way. And not for him. Why? Why for him? And ALL OF THEM. How could she have known they would ALL come?

"Brother, are you ok?"

Perturabo snapped out of the loop to see the Angel standing beside him with a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't realized just how loudly his two hearts had been thundering, how BADLY his whole body had been shaking, until he felt that steadying touch. Instinctively he tried to regain control over his mind and body, and stowed the pict away in his belt.

Sanguinius asked no questions; he simply nodded.

"I'm going to find her..." Perturabo's voice sounded like sandpaper. He could feel the tears rolling down his neck, but he ignored them. "...I don't care if she FUCKING KILLS me; I am going to find her. She has no right.... ...she had no right to... ...to..."

"...go ahead brother." Sanguinius's smile was warm with understanding.

Salvaging what little dignity he felt he had left, Perturabo straightened up, turned on his heel, and walked shakily out of the throne room. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving his father and his brothers to stare after him in wonder.

(Sorry this is such a long post, but I started writing it and just went to town. I wanted to SHOW, rather than just tell, the kinds of things Nehetari does for the individuals that are important to her)

@gracia-regina @ask-a-scheming-sorcerer @luwupercal

[peach-the-owl]

Of a Kind Sol

Pumat Sol & Child!Reader

Request: Our favourite enchanter Pumat Sol and his arcane copies because who doesn't love them? Only crazy people. So a kid, maybe into their teens, coming into the shop and asking to learn from him how to enchant stuff and become his apprentice and later on he finds out they have nobody.

Child is a bit of a loose term for this because the reader is about 12-13 years old. I regret nothing, anyways enjoy! 😁

The Invulnerable Vagrant a humble little shop located in the city of Zadash, you walk up to the shop, adjust your cloths to look a little more presentable and take a deep breath before making your way inside. The first thing you notice upon your entry is the two identical employees walking around stocking up items and rearranging them, the third one manning the counter also looked the exact same, it was almost intimidating.

"Well hey there, what can I do for a youngin' like yourself today?" The firbolg at the counter asks kindly.

"Umm, h-hello, my name's (y/n)." You say a little shakily holding out your hand, the firbolg returns the handshake.

"A pleasure to meet you (y/n), I am Enchanter Pumat Sol." He greets you back.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Uhh… well… I had a question I’d like to ask." You put on as confident a smile as you could muster.

"And I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, respectfully. What’s your question." He gives you a patient look. You take another deep breath to psych yourself up.

"I was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help with the shop? I’m really interested in learning about enchantment." You give him a hopeful look, he leans back placing a hand on his chin in thought before looking at you again.

"So you’re interested in enchantment eh? Well that’s a question I’ll have to talk to Pumat prime about."

"Pumat prime?" You give a questioning look.

"Yes, you see myself and the other two over there," he points to the other firbolgs running around. "We're what you’d call magical manifestations created to aid the original in his work." He explains to you.

"So you're not the real Pumat Sol, just a copy to help around the shop?" You try to hide the nervousness in your voice at the revelation.

"More or less. Now you wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back." With that he gets up and disappears behind a curtain leaving you to stand there, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. After a minute he returns with who you’d assume to be the original Pumat Sol, who removes his goggles to get a better look at you.

"So you’re interested in enchantment I hear?" He asks same question as the other had.

"I am, I’ve always been interested in the ways of enchantment but I’ve never really been able to learn it for myself." You brighten up.

"Well…" he thinks for a moment, "that is, respectfully, a fine offer. I already have a lot of hands helping with the shop though." You start to deflate a little. "However, it would be nice having someone else helping me with enchantments." You perk up again.

"So I have the job?" You ask eagerly.

"As long as it’s alright with your parents-"

"Yes! Yes, of course it is." You quickly lie, cutting him off. He stares at you but smiles regardless.

"Well alrighty then, we can get started right now if you'd like, respectfully." You just nod. "Keep up the good work me." He tells the copies before he takes you back behind the curtain to his little workshop area to start your training.

For the next few weeks you’d come to the shop bright and early to learn and hone in on your enchantment skills, which you pick up on rather quickly, helping with projects and making a few small items of your own, at the end of the day you’d get your share of money and head "home" to start the day anew tomorrow. You even got your own work apron and pair of goggles. To make things easier on yourself working with four of the same guy you gave the arcane copies nicknames, Matty, Sol, and Puma respectfully, they all seemed to like the little nicknames from you so that was how you’d refer to them from then on. How could you tell who was who? Simple, you made little enchanted name tags with the help of Pumat. One day a set of new adventurers hobbled into the shop, you only being made aware of this when Matty came into the workshop with a request for something to be made prettier.

"Do you wanna handle this one (y/n)?" Pumat asks.

"Me? Really!" Your eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Why not, you’ve made great progress and it’s good practice." You get up and follow Matty through the curtain where you see the previously mentioned adventurers. They all take quick notice of you.

"Hold on a moment. Didn’t you say the forth one's in the back?" The half-orc questions.

"I'm actually his apprentice." You say with a large, proud smile. You see the red-head give an amused side look but decide to ignore it. "Anyways, I was called to make something pretty?"

"Yes!" The blue tiefling pipes in, showing the Fantastic Haversack. "See I’m going to be wearing it and I want it to match my outfit…" While she’s say all this you try to think of what to do, coming to a rather quick and obvious solution.

"What’s your favourite colour?" You ask.

"Pink!" She replies, without missing a beat. You wave your hands around, muttering a few arcane words and watch the bag simmer turning a bright pink. "Ahhh! It’s beautiful! 200 gold, here you go." The tiefling happily exclaims, handing you a bag of gold.

"You’re welcome miss…" You pause realizing you didn’t know her name, she catches on.

"I’m Jester." She greets properly.

"I’m (y/n). Nice meeting you Jester." You greet back. "Keep up the good work Pumats." You then turn to retreat back behind the curtain with a few "thank you's" and make your way back into the workshop.

"Hey uh (y/n), one more thing, you got a request for more of those little explosive spikes you made from a little goblin girl." Puma pokes his head into the workshop to inform you.

"Wait, someone actually wants more of those? But they aren’t very strong." You were surprised anyone was interested in something you made seeing as all the bigger and cooler enchantments were Pumat's doing.

"They said something about them being perfect for arrows." Puma explains.

"Oh! Umm, ok. How many are they asking for?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty! Wow, I got a lot of work to do then, it’s gonna take me a while. Thanks Puma." You give him a smile that he returns then leaves to help finish up with the costumers.

Some time went by, you continued your usual routine showing up early, working throughout the day and carefully returning "home" with a nice bag of coin for meals, all was well… until it wasn’t. One evening you were a little too confident in yourself and got a little careless, not checking for any thugs or muggers while turning down an alleyway like you usually do. You were just walking along merrily when you bumped into someone.

"Well, well. That sure sounds like a awful lot of coin for a street rat." A rather stocky dwarven man chuckles darkly. You take a few steps back towards where you’d entered but stop when you hear someone approach from behind, a tall lanky man blocked your exit pulling out a dagger. You started to panic, as much as you’d like to cast something to aid yourself, you left your spellbook and components for said spells back at the shop leaving you defenceless. You tried to dart past the dwarf hoping to loose the two further into the alleyway, what you didn’t count on was the dwarf to be nimbler then he appeared. You’re grabbed by the collar of your shirt and slammed against a wall, effectively knocking the air out of you and before you can push yourself up off the ground you feel a harsh kick to your side and a sharp pain in your arm. You try to scream for help but again before you can react your head is slammed hard against the ground leaving your vision blurry before completely blacking out…

You awaken with a feeling of slitting pain in your head and your entire body aching, slowly pushing yourself off the ground into a sitting position proving to even be a difficult task. Once you get a better look at yourself you can see a few cuts on your arms from the dagger the lanky man had used and you were covered in bruises, you reach a hand up to where your head was throbbing the most only to flinch away from the intense pain. You stare at your hand seeing it covered in your own blood, taking proper note that you were in fact surrounded by a small puddle of your own blood. You were surprised you even managed to regain consciousness, regardless your vision was still blurry and you needed medical attention, soon. You didn’t have any coin or items on you anymore leaving only one location for you to get help, a part of you dreading the idea but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with the consequences of telling the truth. Shakily you get yourself to stand and hobble your way out of the alleyway towards your destination, looking to the sky you could estimate that it must’ve been close to late morning, early afternoon by now. You approach the door and with what little strength you had left you open the door and stumble into the shop.

"Welcome to the Invulnerable- Oh my goodness! (Y/n), what happened!?" You teeter and before you fall to the ground you feel a set of gentle hands catch you, then a second set of hands help to bring you to the back. After a few minutes your able to regain your focus back, seeing Matty and Sol on either side of you both with identically concerned looks on their faces.

"Here you are, this'll help fix you up." Sol hands you a greater healing potion which you waste no time in using to help ease away the lingering pain and get rid of bruises that weren’t covered by bandages. At this time Pumat walks in and gives a small nod to the other two.

"I’ll take it from here fellas." He tells them. They get up, Matty giving you one more gentle pat on the shoulder, and head back to the front leaving you alone with Pumat. "Care to tell me what happened?" He starts slowly and calmly.

"I umm, got mugged by some dwarf and lanky man in an alleyway." You say quietly.

"Now why were you in an alleyway so late, you should’ve been home with your parents." You let out a sad sigh and turn away from him a little. "(Y/n)?" You stay quiet but give a quick side glance. "I think I deserve an explanation here." He uses a more stern voice this time making you look over at him, despite the tone you could see genuine worry written on his face.

"I-I lied about my parents agreeing to this, because the truth is I don’t have any. I was left here all alone a few years ago, nobody came for me and I was forced to live on the streets. I meant to say something sooner, but I was scared…" You trail off a bit, feeling tears prick at the edges of your eyes.

"What could you be scared of, if you don’t mind me asking."

"I was scared you wouldn’t accept a dirty street rat. For so long I wanted to belong somewhere, but I was always turned away. I thought if I lied about myself you would accept me as an apprentice, but I wasn’t lying about learning enchantment I really do like it. I just didn’t want to be turned away again." By now you were sobbing, a stream of tears flowing down your face, your eyes turning red and puffy in the process. "I don’t want to be turned away again, please don’t be mad." You finish quietly through your sobs. There’s a pause before you feel yourself being pulled into a gentle, comforting hug. You stay in the hug for who knows and who cares how long until you finally pull away.

"Believe it or not, but I get it. I didn’t really fit in when I was about your age either." Pumat confesses, you look at him confused and he just gives you a kind smile. "I mean, do you see any other firbolgs that live here. I think not." You give a small giggle at that. "Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off, head on upstairs and get yourself some rest, you can use my room for now. I can handle myself just fine."

"Really? You’re sure it’s ok?" You give a curious look.

"It’s fine, I’ll get one of the others to help clear out our spare room for you to stay in later." You blink a couple of times to process what was just said.

"Wait, stay in? Like, live here?" You ask, wanting to know if you’d heard correctly or if you were hallucinating.

"Well of course! I can’t have my favourite apprentice sleeping in the streets, I’d worry too much knowing you might get mugged again or worse. It's real bad for the health." He states sorta matter-of-factly. You break out into a large smile at this.

"That is, respectfully, a very generous offer." You say with a playful bow. "Thank you. For everything." You continue more seriously this time.

"It is my humble pleasure." He gives you a nod. "Now go on, you need to rest and recover." You give him one more hug which he happily returns before heading up for that much needed rest.

I stayed up way later then I thought to finish this…… worth it

[ragingbookdragon]

Just Say The Word And I'll Be Yours, You Know I Never Forgot. PT. 2

Asra x M!Apprentice

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: None...well, a wee bit of a cliffhanger :)

Author’s Note: And here we are with PT.2! Hopefully I can crank out 3 tm!

           Muriel wasn’t happy to see him when he opened the door. But to be completely honest, Muriel wasn’t happy to open the door for anybody, especially if they were uninvited. He knew he should’ve gone straight to the fountain and into the Arcane realms, but the longer he thought about it, the more he realized he needed help getting there and using the fountain risked meeting Asra’s parents or Nadia. That being said, the need to tell at least somebody where he was going kept lodging itself in his chest and finally, he relented into telling Muriel. And now that he thought about it, telling Asra’s best friend didn’t seem like the best option, but he was too far from the palace to tell anyone else. All things considered, Muriel’s magic was the strongest at the mountain top; if he could convince him to open a portal there, he’d have a better chance of reaching Death’s realm rather than having to trudge through the other Arcana’s, or worse, ending up somewhere much more dangerous than a higher beings’ realm. But first he had to coerce Muriel into leaving his hut.

***

           (Y/N) stared up at Muriel with a kind smile. “Good morning Muriel.”

           The gentle giant merely regarded him with a low grunt, evidence of sleep in his eyes showing as he blinked blearily.

           “What are you doing here?” he murmured, then swept his gaze over the leather duffle bag on (Y/N)’s shoulder.

           He was hesitant to mention anything specific. The less he said on what he was planning, the less people he had worrying about what he was doing. He shrugged the bag higher up onto his shoulder, idly toying with one of the buttons on his coat. “I—uh—need your help Muriel.”

           The man looked over (Y/N)’s shoulder then stuck his neck out a bit to look the other direction. “Where’s Asra?” he suddenly questioned and (Y/N) sighed.

           “He’s back at the shop asleep.” Meeting the man’s green eyes, he admitted, “And I need it to stay that way.” Before the other could speak, he added, “I need your help to open a portal at the top of the mountain so I can get to the other side.”

           For a moment, Muriel didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes widened ever so slightly told (Y/N) all he wanted to say.

           They stared at each other, then (Y/N) implored, “Please Muriel, I need your help to do this because I can’t do it on my own. I need another person to hold it open while I go through it.”

           “Asra doesn’t know?”

           “No…and he can’t know where I’m going either.” He gazed at Muriel. “Will you help me? Please?”

           After a long moment, Muriel sighed and reached for the cloak hanging beside his door. Shrugging it on, he muttered, “I don’t like hiding things from Asra.”

           (Y/N) stepped back and let the man come out, Inanna silently trotting after him. “And I don’t like asking you to.” He placed his gloved hand on Muriel’s arm and assured, “But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

           “I…understand.” And that was all Muriel said before pulling away, leaving (Y/N) to follow him and the black wolf.

***

           The top of the mountain was always made (Y/N) shiver, the crackling of electricity sounding in his ears every time he twitched his fingers. His magic seemed potent at this range, like he could cast a lighting storm with a mere flick. It unnerved him as much as it did exhilarate.

           Sighing quietly, he cast his eyes towards Muriel’s back, watching as the man swept away loose dirt and leaves from circle in the center of the large dark stones. (Y/N) never had the chance to examine them as closely as he wanted to, given that the last time he was here, they were trying to find the Magician because Lucio was wandering around—being completely honest, he didn’t miss it. But now, he had the chance to get a closer look.

           The six stones were spread a fair distance around the circle, at least a span of seven and a half feet between each one. Every stone was evenly shaped, standing at about nine feet. (Y/N) was by no means a small man, he stood just a foot shorter than Julian, and while Muriel had them both beat at six foot ten, even these stones towered over him. It gave him a terrible mental image of being squashed by one. (Y/N) ran his fingers up the side, feeling the sharp electric pop under his touch. He scrutinized the stone for a moment.

           “Are these lodestones?” he inquired, turning to catch Muriel’s attention.

           The man hummed in response. “Good for rune casting.”

           “Good for attracting lightning is what they’re for,” he countered, hiding a smirk when Muriel shot a glare at him. He cracked his neck. “Are you ready to begin?”

           Muriel nodded and took a stand in front of him. “I’ll watch you why you’re there.”

           (Y/N) stilled for a second then coolly stated, “I’m not staying out here Muriel. I’m going in there.”

           The neutral mask that usually resided on Muriel’s face fell away to unabashed shock. “What?”

           He didn’t have time to open that can of worms. “I’m going into the Arcane realms Muriel.”

           “That’s not safe. It’s dangerous to take your body with you.”

           (Y/N) nodded. “I know. But it’s what I have to do.”

           “And that is?”

           He glanced at Muriel and shifted, gathering the magic into his palms. “Can’t tell you that.” He nodded at him. “I’ll open it, but I need you to keep it open long enough for me to get inside. Can you do it?”

           Muriel grunted. “Just cast.”

           (Y/N) snorted and brought his palms together, feeling the energy shifting rapidly. Lightning ignited across the darkened sky and thunder rumbled in their ears, static crawling along their arms and backs. He felt the thread snap in the back of his mind and with all the strength he had, (Y/N) shoved his hands out in front of his body, then away to his sides, the ominous swirling gate exploding before him.

           “Muriel!” he called, and a wave of reassuring energy washed over his shoulders, signaling that the man was holding the gate steady. (Y/N) lowered his hands and stepped up to the gate. “I’m going through.” He was sure Muriel could barely hear him over the reverberating pulsing of the portal.

           “Good luck,” he heard as he took a step, and all he remembered was walking off solid ground and falling downwards into darkness.

[haikyuuanypercent]

karasuno first years playing D&D 5e

I’ve been watching fantasy high recently (okay, rewatching... for the third time), so that got me thinking about what the haikyuu characters, specifically karasuno’s first years, would be like playing Dungeons and Dragons! I know they’ve already been in a traditional tabletop fantasy setting with Haikyuu Quest, but I take that as more of an AU than as how they would actually play so here are my own headcanons:

- yamaguchi has actually wanted to play for a long time, but never had the confidence to ask since it was “nerdy” and he didn’t want to seem lame. but one day hinata is at his house and asks him about the D&D manuals on his bookshelves, and yams starts explaining the game to him, getting a lil enthusiastic in spite of himself

- and to his surprise hinata is enthusiastic too! he insists they get a game together, and they each drag kags and tsukki into it

- kageyama agrees to play because he remembers that oikawa played D&D (ofc oikawa plays D&D, he’s a huge nerd, debate me) and thinks maybe he’ll gain some insight into oikawa’s ability to strategize and work with a team

- tsukki agrees after yams bothers him a bit because he’s actually read through the manuals in yams’ room before and thought they were interesting, but didn’t want to play back then because he was too worried about seeming cool

- yams is happy to DM, and walks everybody through character creation, which is very difficult with hinata and kags

- “no hinata, you can’t play as a dragon, you can play as a dragonborn though?”

- and that’s how hinata ends up playing as a spritely little dragonborn fighter who’s on a quest to get strong enough to fight real dragons. yams quickly changes the BBEG to a dragon and even makes a note to find or make a homebrew dragon race for hinata to play as next time

- tsukki snarkily asks if hinata is sure he shouldn’t be playing as a halfling, so hinata angrily makes his character 6′3″

- kags remembers that oikawa played a bard and insists on playing a bard, which makes yams nervous because a) spellcasting can be hard for new players and b) kageyama? a bard? but he goes with it because kags seems really determined

- so kags ends up playing as a travelling half-elf bard who wants to become the most powerful bard in the world, the only problem is he put all his points into strength and intelligence instead of charisma

- “what’s a spellcasting modifier? if you have more strength, that means you’re stronger, obviously”

- yams gives up on trying to explain it to him and just hopes he’ll understand once they’re ingame

- tsukki decides to play a 6′4″ high elf wizard who’s only adventuring out of an obligation to return some arcane texts that were stolen from his family, which immediately sets off yams’ DM Instinct and those texts instantly become a centerpiece to the plot that hold a deep dark secret about tsukki’s character’s family

- they have quite a few bumps starting out as everyone learns the mechanics, but kags’ character is immediately hilarious - he’s the grumpiest bard anyone’s ever seen, and often chooses to simply smash people over the head with his lute instead of casting magic

- tsukki’s character on the other hand probably should’ve been a bard. yams considers bending the rules to give him vicious mockery because he DEFINITELY inherited tsukki’s scathing sarcasm.

- after their wizard is done demoralizing the enemy, hinata’s bubbly dragonborn is more than happy to pummel them into the ground. his tagline becomes “let’s fight, bastard!”

- there’s tons of bickering around the table ofc, but after awhile that bickering starts to become more and more in-character. and they’re all shocked by how sassy and nasty yams can be when he’s playing rude/evil NPCs

- but overall yams is a nice DM, think Brian Murphy from NADDPOD. he holds them to their dumb decisions, but gets super nervous and softens his narration a little when things go really bad

- he also puts a ton of effort and care into the campaign plot, making sure to weave in everyone’s backstory, and the players all gradually get more and more invested

- hinata’s character starts having more serious moments, and when something dramatic happens or an NPC they care about dies, he can be shockingly intense.

- kags listens attentively to any bard mentors he encounters along their journey, and eventually forgets all about his original motivations for playing the game. yams ends one session on a cliffhanger, and kags actually seriously freaks out, leaning forward and demanding to know what happens next. yams is super touched cause he’s only ever seen kags this invested in volleyball

- and when the plot twist with tsukki’s character happens, yams picks up on all the little cues his best friend gives that he’s actually really emotionally affected by it. he tries to hide it, but when yams asks him after the session if he liked the plot twist, his response is a muttered “...shut up, yamaguchi.” yams coyly responds with “sorry, [tsukki’s character’s name].”

- I could definitely see them continuing this campaign all the way up until their third year for a super emotional climactic ending, but I think they’d also probably do smaller campaigns with different DMs so yams gets to play.

- tsukki is generally a good DM, except he sets traps for hinata’s characters specifically. the enticingly glowing volleyball that explodes when you touch it was a mean trick.

- yachi also DMs a short campaign for them. she’s super nervous at first, but once she gets into it she actually loves the roleplaying element. watching her play terrifying pit fiends and diabolical liches is hilarious

if you’ve read all these, I hope you enjoyed! these are by no means all my thoughts and I’ll probably make a post about the other karasuno boys sometime down the line, because if you think ennoshita and suga don’t DM you’re dead wrong-

[cadaceus]

C2E123

I’m gonna have to buy myself a T-Shirt that says “I survived Critical Role Campaign 2, Episode 123″ because y’all... that was a lot. I also can’t believe I successfully caught up in time to tune in live tonight--but now I’m scared to do so, because oh god, that was rough! Happy Thursday, critters, let’s hope tonight goes better than 123 did! (Spoilers, of course, abound down below.)

- Using that much diamond dust to try and dispel the eye seems like such a risky gamble, since who knows when they will get more diamonds?  😭

- Wait I forgot, why do they have the point of exhaustion despite the long rest? 

- “I can smell you... I told you I had your scent...” *”beyonce??” meme but instead picture me yelling GELIDON?????*

- FJORD JUST FLYING INTO THE DRAGON’S SPHERE I LOVE MY 7 WISDOM PALADIN LMAOOOOO

- WHAT DO YOU MEAN LUCIEN HAS LEGENDARY ACTIONS WHAT 

- Both of the halflings attempting to hide behind Fjord is so funny fghjkljh 

- The fact that Ashley rolled Double 20s earlier and Double 1s now is so sad but also so funny.... balance has been restored to the universe

- Beau has 17 hit points left...... is she gonna go down here...... if she does and then falls off the dragon..... 😭

- GELIDON ESCAPED AGAIN FDGHJKFLP[FL WILL WE MEET HER AGAIN DOWN THE ROAD??

- Fjord kissing Jester after she heals him is so cute, I really wasn’t expecting that to happen

- Jester covering up her message to Dagen by peeing dghjkdlf please I love her

- I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I would pay good money for a little bound copy/”Jester’s sketchbook” that has all of the illustrations and scribbles she’s jotted down during this campaign so far

- Lucien describing the Mighty Nein as a “bunch of brightened stars in the sky” and then half an hour later, the Wildmother presents Essek as a bright star in the sky.... hold on everyone I’m thinking, just hold on

- “You look down and your bag of holding is missing” THESE LITTLE STINKERS DGCHJKDASJL;JSFHJFKL DID THE TOMB TAKERS JUST CUT AND RUN IM SO MAD

- Jester just take their threshold crest and RUN please

- Beau successfully stunning Cree on the first try!!! I’m so proud!

- Lucien being immune to necrotic damage..... Big Yikes, is that because he’s died before, a bloodhunter thing, or does it have to do with the Eyes of Nine?

- This background music is so cool and spooky, it reminds me of Stranger Things

- THE THREE NATURAL 1s ON INITIATIVE..... RUH ROH

- Matt: “Beau, you take 69 points of psychic damage” The entire cast, without hesitation: “Nice :(((”

- Wait, Lucien dispelled the night vision goggles??? Uhhhhh uh oh 😱

- WHY ARE THEY ALL GOING FOR BEAU DSHJKHFL GO AWAY GO AWAY

- It’s midnight and I have an 8am class tomorrow but I’m so tempted to finish this episode anyways...........

- ^ THIS IS LITERALLY ALWAYS USED AS THE NEUTRAL EVIL CATCHPHRASE I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN LUCIEN WOULD PULL THIS SHIT DGHJFKLF

- Is Otis like a bloodhunter/rogue/warlock combo then?

- “The arcane symbol burns, like [Fjord] has been branded or marked in some way.” THIS IS GETTING PROGRESSIVELY WORSE AS WE GO ALONG

- The fact that Yasha and her wings were on the outskirts of the anti-magic cone and it worked..... :’)

- Okay so I did end up going to sleep at like 1am but man, leaving off in the middle of this stressful fight was rough...

- The actual epitome of “We’re running, it’s bad”

- “Claim the rest, the wizard’s mine.” LITERALLY CINEMA OVER HERE I AM ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT

- Wait this triple stacked Counterspell is so funny SASDFGHJK

- Sam: “Remember when I said I didn’t want it to end? I want it to end now.” 

- LMAOOOOOOO THE NEIN ARE BARELY OUT OF RANGE, GET WRECKED LUCIEN

- “I will continue to be a twig in the arms of a barbarian woman” I wish that were me right now

- Does Jester still have the Tomb Takers’ lodestone special thingy? I’m stressed so I’ve forgotten what they’re called

- I FINISHED THE EPISODE!!! I SURVIVED, AND SO DID THEY!!!

- That must have been the longest episode of the campaign, right? That was so stressful (though I admittedly went into it knowing that nobody died.... I couldn’t stand not knowing, so I spoiled myself, I’m sorry!) Even so, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.... I also successfully caught up before tonight’s episode, so we’ll see what happens in the aftermath of this whole mess.... I think we’ll need all the luck in the world tonight y’all  😭

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #23: Medusa

Welcome back to Fate and Phantasms, today we’re making your sweet baby sister (and also kind of the oldest sister? It’s complicated), Medusa. Exile of the Shapeless Isle, Wielder of the Nameless Dagger, and just generally not well-explained at all, Medusa has a lot of skills, which we’ll break down into three goals.

The Obvious: Your mystic eyes can break down anyone you look at, up to and including turning them to stone.

The Not-So Obvious: You can summon a Pegasus by nicking your neck, and if we’re going through the effort to give you a Pegasus, by god you’re going to be good at riding it.

Chains and Whips Excite Me: Your Nameless Dagger is half dagger, half whip, and you’re good at using both ends.

As usual, a spreadsheet for this build can be found here, and there’s an explanation below the cut!

Race and Background:

Like your sister, you’rea Yuan-ti Pureblood, giving you +1 Int and +2 Charisma, Magic Resistance, 60′ of Darkvision, Poison Immunity, and free use of the Poison Spray cantrip and Animal Friendship (On snakes only), using Charisma for casting. Being an ex-god does have perks sometimes.

You’re not really and Archeologist, but you are old enough to tell ruins apart, so you’ll get proficiency with History and Survival. 

Stats: 

Put your highest score in Dexterity; you can move around the battlefield so fast you might get mistaken for an Assassin. Next is Charisma; you’re pretty intimidating, and we need to power up your mystic eyes. Wisdom is next, more for multiclassing than anything, though resisting the urge to punt your sisters into next week does fall under a wisdom save, I think. After that is Strength, which should be higher, but we need the other stats more, and we’ll be using Dexterity for attacking anyway. Pick Constitution next because we really don’t want to dump that, and that leaves us with Intelligence. You’re not dumb, we just really needed the other stats more.

Class Levels:

1. Monk 1: When you start as a monk, you gain proficiency with Strength and Dexterity saves, and two skills from the monk list. Grab Acrobatics and Stealth for more mobility. You also have Unarmored Defense, making your AC 10 + your Wisdom mod + you Dexterity mod. That’s not amazing at the moment, but we’re working on it. You also have Martial Arts, letting you replace unarmed strikes and monk weapon attacks with a d4, as well as use your dexterity instead of strength when attacking. You can also make an unarmed strike as a bonus action after attacking normally.

2. Monk 2: At this level, you gain Unarmored Movement, giving another 10′ of movement as long as you aren’t wearing any armor or shields. You also gain Ki, which at this level can be spent to gain more attacks, dodge as a bonus action, or increase your mobility for a turn.

3. Monk 3: At third level your Innate Spellcasting kicks in again, letting you cast Suggestion once per long rest. You also learn to Deflect Missiles, catching arrows (or swords, I guess, depends who you’re fighting) out of the air and throw them back. You also pick a Monastic Tradition at this level, so get ready to be a Kensei. At this level, you get two Kensei Weapons. Pick Dagger, for the obvious reasons, and Sling, because we’re obliged to grab a ranged weapon. You also have an Agile Parry, letting you add 2 to your AC if you make an unarmed attack during your action, and a Kensei’s Shot, adding 1d4 to your ranged kensei weapon attacks.

4. Monk 4: Throw your ASI into Dexterity for more damage and AC, and also get Slow Fall, reducing your fall damage by 5x your monk level. You’ll need it for all those anime jumps you do.

5. Monk 5: You can use an Extra Attack each turn, and also get a Stunning Strike. Spend a ki point to force a Con save or your target is stunned until your next turn. Are you hitting them so hard bits of them turn to stone? Yeah, probably let’s go with that. Your Martial Arts die increases to a d6, making your everything just a little more deadly!

6. Monk 6: You now have Ki-Empowered Strikes and are One with the Blade, making your unarmed and Kensei attack magical. You can also use Deft Strikes, spending a ki to add an extra Martial Arts die to your attack. Your unarmored movement also increases, giving you another 5′ to work with. 

You also gain another Kensei Weapon, so pick up that Whip so you can fully use your Nameless Dagger. Now it’s time for your mask to come off and start learning some spells. 

7. Bard 1: When you switch over to Bard, you get one skill proficiency of your choice. Grab Intimidation, you’re a pretty scary person, even when you don’t want to be. Bards gain Spellcasting using their charisma, and Inspiration Dice that can help your friends with skill checks and saves. Right now those are d6. For spells, you get two cantrips and four 1st level spells. Grab Message to keep your master abreast of the situation, True Strike to improve ambushes, Earth Tremor to remind those humans why they should fear you, and Longstrider for even more mobility.  Start loosening up that mask a bit and let your mystic eyes start to boot up with Bane to weaken enemy saving throws and Dissonant Whispers to force them back.

8. Bard 2: You become a Jack of All Trades, adding half your proficiency to any check you aren’t already proficient in, and gain a Song of Rest, adding an extra d6 of healing when people use their Hit Dice. This level, grab Healing Word for a bit of, you guessed it, healing, without having to sacrifice that cool whip/dagger fighting style you’ve got going on.

9. Bard 3: As a 3rd level Bard, you graduate from the College of Valor, giving you proficiency with martial weapons. You also get medium armor and shields, but we’re probably not using those. You also have Combat Inspiration, letting your friends add inspiration to their damage roll, or to their AC when they’re attacked. You also gain Expertise in two skills, doubling your proficiency in them. Pick Intimidation for maximum scariness, and Acrobatics for maximum mobility.

For your spell this turn, grab Hold Person to paralyze enemies. It’s not quite turning to stone, but we’re working our way up to that.

10. Bard 4: Use your ASI to round out your Dexterity and Wisdom for more damage, more armor, and harder Ki saves. For spells this turn, grab the Mending cantrip to keep your mask together (that’s important), and See Invisibility to make your eyes even more powerful.

11. Bard 5: Your Inspiration die increases to a d8, and you become a Font of Inspiration, regaining inspiration dice on short rests. Your mystic eyes continue to grow in power with Bestow Curse, adding one of a variety negative effects to a creature for up to a minute. There’s a whole list of them in the spell’s description, but you can even make up new ones if the DM goes along with it. Petrify their blood and lower their speed! Or remove their reactions for a minute! The sky’s the limit. Technically this is a touch spell, but shut up.

12. Bard 6: You gain the ability to perform a Countercharm, and also another extra attack. Both of these are useless for us, though.  For your spell this turn, grab Fear, because sometimes a +11 to Intimidate won’t be enough.

13. Bard 7: Seventh level bards don’t get much, aside from 4th level spells. Grab Freedom of Movement to help you or another creature ignore difficult terrain, which is great if you get a bit  Earth Tremor happy.

14. Bard 8: Grab the Mounted Combatant feat with this level’s ASI. This will make more sense in two levels, I swear. For now, you have advantage on melee attacks made against unmounted creatures smaller than your mount, if your mount is attacked you can redirect the hit to you instead, and your mount makes dexterity saves with Evasion, like you would have if you could’ve taken one more level of Monk. Ah well, hindsight.

For this level’s spell, grab Greater Invisibility so you can enter your spirit form.

15. Bard 9: Your song of rest becomes a d8, and you get another spell. Grab Hold Monster for more paralysis power. Stay calm, we’ll get real petrification soon enough.

16. Bard 10: Your inspiration dice become d10s, you get another round of Expertise, (pick Stealth and History) and you gain another cantrip! (Blade Ward) More importantly, you get Magical Secrets, two spells from any class. This boost in power needs fuel, so grab Enervation to drain some blood. Finally, grab the main event of this level, Find Greater Steed to summon Bellerophon into battle. You can also summon other creatures with this spell, but why would you?

17. Bard 11: Take a breather this level, you’re only getting a spell. Grab Eyebite for even more eye-based powers, letting you knock an enemy unconscious each round, frighten them, or sicken them, giving disadvantage on attacks and checks. Your pegasus can also get a copy of this spell if you’re mounted when casting it for double the fun.

18. Bard 12: Use your last ASI to improve your Charisma for more special eyes.

19. Bard 13: Your song of rest becomes a d10, and you learn Mirage Arcane, letting you make your Bloodfort Andromeda for the low, low, price of 10 minutes.

20. Bard 14: Cap off the build with Battle Magic, letting you make a weapon attack as a bonus action after using your regular action to cast a spell, and another round of Magical Secrets. Finally grab Flesh to Stone to do what you came here for, and make sure people remember you’re an earth goddess with Investiture of Stone, giving you barbarian style damage resistances, the ability to make small earthquakes around you, and the ability to walk straight through stone without issue, as long as you end your turn in an empty space.

Pros: Even ignoring your steed, you have high mobility, with 45′ of movement, extra dashes when you need them, and the ability to run straight through walls without stopping. Add to that the ability to fly (again, through walls) and that you’re using a reach weapon means that you’ll rarely have to worry about melee classes.

Cons: Rules as written mounted combat is a little bit awkward, as you can’t fly down to an enemy, hit them, and then fly back up. Also, you’ll be needing all that mobility, because you don’t have a whole lot of heath.

[nurse-buckley]

Whumptober Day 23 - Exhaustion

Fandom: Critical Role  Characters: The Mighty Nein  Word Count: 1,648  Warnings: nightmares.  Fjord is having trouble sleeping, visions and nightmares of Uk’otoa plaguing his sleep. 

“I’ll take the first watch,” Fjord announces to the group. His adrenaline is still high from the fight they’d not long been in. Truth be told, it wasn’t the adrenaline keeping him awake. The nightmares of Uk’otoa he’d been having recently had been growing worse. The visions given by Uk’otoa obviously not enough for him, his subconscious now playing a part and showing him horrendous visions of himself and his friends being hurt. 

The others agreeing, began to settle themselves down huddled together in the dome Caleb had formed to protect them. Fjord kept vigil, his mind wandering trying to think of anything but the dreams that had been plaguing him, not wanting to influence any type of rest he may be receiving later that night. 

He knew he’d have to rest sooner or later but he couldn’t seem to make it more than a few hours without waking up in a sweat, his breath catching in his throat as the panic wakes him. He’s lucky he’s managed to hide it from the Nein for this long, but he’s unsure of how wise that decision is when they rely on him so much.

A few hours later found Beau and Yasha waking up, choosing to spend their watch together for company. A small nod towards Fjord showed the pair that the watch was uneventful and Fjord settled down, laying on his side facing away from the two women. As soon as he closes his eyes, the half orc regrets it, he sees the faces of his friends, tortured and mangled from Uk’otoa’s soldiers, flashes of the previous nightmares still haunting him. 

Come morning the dome vanishes and everyone rises from their sleeping positions feeling well rested. Caduceus makes breakfast and tea for the group as they begin to discuss their plans for the day. Caduceus notices how quiet Fjord has been as of late, not wanting to interrupt, he’d kept his distance but he knew something was wrong. The Firbolg made a mental note to ask if there was anything wrong if the pair found themselves alone from the group later. 

Upon walking through the forests, Caduceus picks up on the sound of a branch snapping. The group halt in their tracks, forming a circle, protecting each other's backs as they each look around to see where the sound came from. A group of gnolls appear out of the shadows, five of them coming out of the surrounding trees and making their way onto the path, surrounding the group of travellers. They are no strangers to the creatures, deciding they could take them on with little effort. The Mighty Nein begin their fight, preparing their weapons and spells, ready to take on the creatures. 

The first gnoll lunges forward at Yasha, she takes Magicians Judge, slicing through the creature with ease, sending it backwards as she kicks the gnoll to remove her sword. Another chooses to attack Caleb, but the wizard is quick with a blast of orange light as the arcane fireball leaves his hands, engulfing the gnoll in flames. 

The fight is going well, the gnolls getting hits in where they can but the Nein fighting back with ease, synchronising their attacks like a dance. Fjord is losing the battle however, his fatigue growing easy with his already high exhaustion. He fires off an eldritch blast to the large hyena-like creature running towards him, it misses and the creature swings it’s battleaxe and slashing across Fjord’s chest. Jester sees the interaction, sending her spiritual weapon and with a flash there’s a comically large lollipop with spikes now attacking the creature. The attack gives Fjord enough time to disengage, allowing him to take cover from it. 

The half-orc looks worse for wear, the wound on his chest is seeping with blood, he can feel the pain radiating with every heartbeat. He clutches the wound, not ready to throw in the towel just yet. He summons the falchion, getting back into the fight and swinging at the gnoll engaged in combat with Beau. He swings his weapons down on the creature, easily cutting it down. 

The last thing he hears is a scream from the monk in front of him as her face turns into one of horror. He feels the familiar slash and impact from another gnolls weapon, his once smiling face from defeating the gnolls partner falls as his body drops to the ground, now unconscious. 

The Nein see the incident in slow motion, none of them quick enough to stop the creature before it attacked Fjord. Beau is quick to attack the creature with a flurry of blows, leading him away from Fjord’s body, not wanting the gnoll to attack him again. Once finishing off their own gnolls, they regroup, turning their attention to the remaining gnoll, firing everything they had at the creature before it too fell to the ground, dead. 

Jester rushes to Fjord’s side, Beau already having lifted his head onto her knees, attempting to rouse the half-orc with a gentle tap to his cheek. The tiefling cleric sees the damage that has been done and places a hand over the bloodied wound on the half-orcs chest. She concentrates hard, focussing her energy on healing the man beneath her and casts cure wounds. She watches as the energy flows from her hands into Fjord’s body, relieved as she sees the large wound begin to close. 

The Nein are surrounding the trio on the ground, holding their breath to see if Fjord would regain consciousness. They’re confused as to how he had fallen so easily, the fight that should have been so easy seemingly too much for him. 

Fjord wakes with a gasp, his head shoots up but he’s stopped by Beaus hands on his shoulders, “easy buddy.” 

The half-orc moves, gently sitting up with help from Beau and Jester, grunting against the stiffness and pain still plaguing his body. Caduceus kneels at his other side, casting healing word, helping to heal the pain and wounds further. He’s helped to his feet, being steadied as he falters slightly upon being upright. 

Embarrassed, Fjord moves forward, slightly ashamed at being taken down so easily by a creature he’s fought many times before. “Uh, you okay Fjord?” Caleb asks. 

He turns to the group, realising they were not following but standing behind, watching him leave. “Uh, yes. I’m fine, just got caught off guard I guess.” 

The Nein eye him carefully, not believing a word he’s saying but know better than to question him. They each knew that if Fjord wanted, he’d go to them in his own time. For now, a silent agreement was made that they’d keep an eye out for him. 

After another long day of travelling, the group could see Fjord was struggling. With another silent conversation between them they agreed it would be a good time, with a clearing coming up ahead, to set up camp again, they could all do with another long rest after the battle and day of walking. 

Caduceus fakes a yawn, “well, I’m exhausted.” The Nein go along with the act, deciding to stop, placing down their belongings and ensuring the area was safe to rest in. The Firbolg makes his way to Fjord’s side where he’s sitting, glancing over to his friends to let them know he was going to approach the events from earlier in the day. 

“Want to talk about what that was earlier?” 

Fjord shakes his head, not meeting his friend’s gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I think you do,” comes Caduceus’ reply. “You’ve been looking more and more exhausted each day, you don’t look well rested and in that fight, you were not up to your usual standard.” 

Fjord sighs, “I guess, I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve been having nightmares, nightmares of Uk’otoa and him hurting you all. I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t allow you all to be hurt because of me.” 

Caduceus moves a hand on Fjord’s back, comforting and grounding his friend. “You know we won’t allow him to hurt you, or anyone else. Why didn’t you come to one of us if you were having these nightmares?” 

“I guess, I was embarrassed. They’re not real, yet I can’t close my eyes without seeing one of you hurt.” 

The firbolg nods, taking in the information, it takes a moment of thinking but then the celric has an idea. “You know, Calliope used to have nightmares and what helped her was having a routine before bed. Meditating and deep breathing can help to relax your mind and body, I’m sure Beau would help you with that. Talking can help, you know you can talk to any one of us, if you're stressed or anxious don’t let it build up. Another thing that can help, which might sound silly is to rewrite the ending.” 

Fjord looks up, confused at that last suggestion. “What do you mean? Rewrite the ending?” 

Caduceus gives a laugh, lightening the mood slightly. “Only you have the ability to change how the story ends, you don’t like it? Fix it. You can rewrite the bad ending to one of happiness.” 

Fjord thinks on it for a few seconds, “that’s...actually not a bad idea. Thank you Caduceus.” 

The firbolg gives a gentle pat to his back, standing up and holding out a hand to Fjord. The half-orc takes it, standing and following Caduceus to where the others are gathered and sees Caleb preparing to make the dome for them. Jester glances over to the pair walking over, “you okay Fjord?” she asks, not making a big deal out of the situation. The man nods in response, sharing a smile with the tiefling before they head inside the dome, for another night's rest, only this time Fjord is hopeful that it will be the best one he’s had in a while. 

[love-fireflysong]

Day 23: Camp

Fandom: Tales of Phantasia Character(s): Chester Burklight, Arche Klein, Mint Adenade, Cress Albane, Claus F. Lester, Suzu Fujibayashi Words: 2527 Rating: General Author’s Notes: Oh shit, that’s right. We finally dealing with the whole cast this time, and since the prompt is Camp, I think you know what to expect...

“So, whose turn is it to cook this time?”

Claus looked up from the book he was reading, and rubbed his fingers along the brim of his hat as he thought out loud. “Hmmm. Well, Mint cooked last night, I made some curry the night before, and Suzu did something before that, can’t remember what though. So it’s down to either Cress, Arche, or Chester.”

Arche’s head popped up from where she was digging around in her bag and opened her mouth, but Chester butt in before she could say anything. “I am not letting you cook anything. I will cook both tonight and tomorrow if it comes to it.”

“You say that as though your cooking is any better than mine!”

“It’s leagues better than anything you’ve ever done, and you know it!”

Before their argument could get anymore off the rails and attract some of the local beasts to their campsite, Cress interrupted. “I’ll cook tonight, if it’s fine with everyone.”

Everyone else murmured their agreements and nodded their heads, except for Arche who batted her eyes in Cress’s direction. “Oh, that’s so nice of you, Cress—”

“Laying it on a bit thick don’t you think?” Chester grumbled under his breath. 

“—you’re so much more of a gentleman than somebody I won’t name.”

“Oh, and who exactly is that supposed to be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you go ahead and guess, or are you too stupid to figure it out?”

Cress turned away from his best friend and the half-elf witch, ignoring their usual bantering and fighting, to look at Mint helping Suzu to start a fire. He smiled softly in her direction. “What ingredients do we still have on hand?” 

Mint paused her assistance with the young ninja to stand up and dig through the pouch of cooking supplied she always carried. “Well, we are beginning to run short on a few things. We used the last of the bread and eggs when we stopped for lunch after fighting that pack of Timber Wolves earlier in the day.”

Claus took her place next to Suzu, and helped to try and start the fire going. “Probably be a good idea to stock up again soon. Thankfully, Alvanista's only another day or so away, so we can at least fill back up on bread and eggs. We’re gonna be out of luck for if we want any quality seafood or fruit though.”

Cress thought for a bit. “We got the stuff for beef stew?”

Mint shook her head sadly. “Sorry Cress, but we ran out of potatoes a couple of days back when Claus made curry.”

“You made the curry too hot, Claus.” Suzu interjected casually. “You used way too many spices, so you should be more careful with that.”

He sighed. “It wasn’t that hot Suzu, everyone else was fine. Though I will try to lower the amount that I use for you.”

Suzu nodded, seemingly happy at the compromise and returned back to the fire.

“We still have some spices though, right?” Cress waited for Mint’s nod of approval and continued. “Well, what about spaghetti then?”

The cleric narrowed her eyes in concentration as she continued to dig around in the bag, before looking at him with clear victory in her eyes. “We still have a couple of tomatoes left, though this will definitely finish those off.”

Cress let out a sigh of relief and looked down at the still empty fire pit that Mint and Suzu had made. Squaring his shoulders, he turned back to Arche and Chester who had now started pulling at the others hair, while still calling the other names.

“She-demon!”

“Shifty eyes!”

“You’re so annoying you know that?!”

“Hey!” The two of them paused in their banter to look over at Cress, though they never actually let go of the other’s hair. “You think you can give us a hand with this fire, Arche?”

Chester just stared at him agog. “Are you nuts dude? She’ll burn the entire forest down if we’re not careful!”

Arche harrumphed as she let go of Chester, nearly shoving him backwards as she turned back to the fire. “I’ll show you...” she started to whisper words of arcane power under her breath as Cress, Mint, Suzu, and Claus all backed away from the the make-shift firepit. With a quick movement of her hands, the spell finished with a small, bright red spark cupped between her open palms. With a cry of  "Fireball!" she let the spark go and it expanded into a small, blazing ball of fire that collided into the dry twigs and leaves, and set it ablaze instantly. Victorious, she turned back to Chester, hands proudly resting on her hips. “Well? Got nothing to say with that smart mouth now?”

Chester snorted and rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You got lucky. Could have burned us all to a crisp if you weren’t careful.”

“Excuse you, I am always careful with my spells. I never miss my targets!”

“Really? So you were meaning to miss those Killer Bee’s and bean me in the back of the head with that Storm earlier?”

“Like I said, I never miss.”

“Why you—”

“They act like children sometimes, I swear.” Cress turned back to look at Claus shake his head in an odd mixture of exasperation and fondness. “Can’t take them anywhere together.”

Mint smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s sweet. I mean they never seem more alive or happy as when they’re teasing each other.”

Cress snorted and stuck his thumb over his shoulder at Arche and Chester who had begun to childishly pinch each other on their arms. “You call that happy? Or alive? I’m surprised that they haven’t tried to kill each other yet, honestly.”

Suzu shook her head in agreement. “I will never understand their relationship. I don’t understand why two people who are clearly very fond of each other would say such mean things.”

“You’ll understand one day, Suzu. Some people just show their affections differently that’s all.”

“Oh, you mean like you and Mirald, Claus?” Mint said innocently. Her smile only became more angelic when he pulled his hat further down to hide his red face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Mint.”

Suzu just watched all of this nonplussed. “I don’t think I want to understand.”

Cress sighed in agreement, clapping his hand onto her shoulder as he began to collect the ingredients needed for spaghetti. “Neither do I Suzu, neither do I.” 

Seeing that Mint was busy with helping chop up some of the veggies for the sauce and Claus had returned back to his book, rubbing at one of the many, many rings on his fingers, and not having the energy to interrupt whatever it was that Chester and Arche were doing for a third time, he turned back to Suzu. “I think I remember seeing a creek or river or something a little further back, do you mind going to fill this pot up with water for me?”

Suzu leveled him with a serious look, nodded once, and in a swirl of leaves vanished from sight with the pot in her hands. With that done, he went to sit down beside Mint and joined her in cutting up veggies and peeling the tomatoes for the sauce. The soft, appreciative smile she gave him as he did so sent his stomach doing pleasant little flips. Arche and Chester could keep whatever it was they had going on, he thought that this was much nicer.

Speaking of, Cress turned his attention to the bickering duo when he started to stir the pot of peeled and crushed tomatoes and spices when he realized how quiet it had suddenly gotten. Only to see that they had stopped their arguing at some point, and were now going through their own packs. Chester stopped his rummaging and turned to his quiver.

“Hey, Cress? Do you remember how many arrows I started with today?”

Before Cress could respond that he wasn’t sure, Arche already had, not looking up from her own pack as she continued her own digging. “Thirty-two,” she replied matter-of-factly. “There are a few sticks over that way that you might be able to use to make some new arrows. I managed to save a couple of feathers from the various Chirpees and Scavengers we killed earlier that you can use for fletching, too.”

“Sweet, thanks Arche.” Chester turned his head to talk to her over his shoulder. “If you’re looking for that new spell book you found near Suzu’s village, you gave it to Mint to hold onto last night. It should be in her bag.”

“Oh right! I totally forgot!”

Cress just looked at Mint and Claus bemused, but both only shrugged at him as they continued their own duties for the night, but not before Mint handed Arche the Fire Storm spell book she had been looking for. Soon enough, Suzu returned with the pot full of water, and Cress placed it off to the side while she used her skill to once again vanish, this time appearing at the top of a tree. There she opened the scroll that they had bought off of the kunochi at the summit of Lone Valley.

The rest of the time passed in relative peace as Cress continued to make supper while Mint assisted him. Claus mumbled under his breath as he continued to twist at his rings and add new sections to his book while Suzu never moved from her spot in the tree above them. Chester sat on a nearby log as he slowly and methodically carved and fletched new arrows, and Arche sat behind him, leaning onto the log and resting her head on his back as she frantically flipped through pages of her spell book. All in all, it was as peaceful an evening as Cress could have hoped for. 

Finally though, the sauce finished and he was pleased to announce as such. “Alright guys, looks like it’s about done!”

“Finally,” Arche whined as she tucked her book under arm, accepting Chester’s hand to help her up. “Thought I was gonna die of starvation over here.”

Chester nodded solemnly. “It’s true. I could hear her stomach the entire I was making arrows. It was very distracting, almost stabbed myself with my knife a couple of times it was so loud.”

Once Mint handed Arche her bowl and fork, she didn’t hesitate to jab her fork into Chester’s side. “It’s not nice to take about a lady’s stomach like that.”

“What lady? The only lady I see here is Mint, and I’ve never once talked about her stomach.”

Claus groaned in exasperation. “Can we please have a meal in peace for once? You two can continue your flirting after we finish eating.”

Instead of appearing embarrassed though, Chester only laughed. “Who’d flirt with her? I’m not interested in shrill, annoying, pink, brats.”

Arche only nodded in agreement. “Exactly. My type is tall, dark, and handsome. Not blue, loud-mouthed, and hot-headed.”

“Who're you calling loud-mouthed?”

“Well, who were you calling annoying?”

Mint giggled quietly behind her hand as Cress gave out a serving of sauce to Suzu. Who looked askance at her bowl, and then at Cress. “You didn’t put in too many spices did you?”

He shook his head fondly and patted her on her own head. “No, I made sure to go light on them this time. You should be fine.”

“Good. Thank you.”

After getting his own bowl filled, Claus lifted the brim of his hat to take a look at the now very dark sky. “We should probably figure out our watch order while we eat. It’s getting late and we should all be heading to sleep pretty soon. I’ll take first watch though, I want to get some more writing done before I hit the hay.”

“I can take the final watch,” Suzu offered. She noticed Mint make a face of concern but raised her hand. “It’s fine. I’m used to early mornings anyhow. It’s when I do my training.”  She stuck a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth and made a satisfactory nod at the taste.

“Oh,” Mint said instead. “If you’re sure, Suzu... I can do third then.” She turned to Cress before he could say a word, giving him an uncharacteristically stern look. “You made supper tonight, Cress, not me. I only helped to cut some veggies so that doesn’t count. Which means you’re exempt from watch duty. It’s your own rule after all.” Cress shrunk back a little at that. She wasn’t wrong, she was just using the rule he had made for her when she had had to cook every night against him.

“Oh! I’ll take sch-econd vatch zen!” Arche butt in with an excited grin, mouth full of spaghetti that she frantically swallowed down. “Maybe I can finish reading my spell book tonight and have a new spell to try out in the morning.”

“Welp, guess it looks like I’m on second watch with you then.” Chester sighed like he was being put-upon to do this. “Someone’s gotta babysit you after all. Make sure you don’t get lost when you go out for a midnight flight or something.”

“I think if anyone here needs babysitting its you, but suit yourself.”

Cress, Mint, and Claus all shared a look of puzzlement. This was unusual, the two of them rarely agreed to take watch together, and if this was the only the first time it would be one thing. But it wasn’t. This was almost the fourth time in a row that they offered to do so. Something was up, and Cress wasn’t sure he wanted to know what.

With a confused shrug, Claus stuck a forkful of spaghetti and sauce in his mouth and made a face. “Are you sure you put enough spices in, Cress? This is kinda bland.”

Mint sighed as she handed the spice bag to Claus. “It’s harder then you think to make meals that both you and Suzu will eat, you know.”

“Yeah,” Chester butt in as he elbowed Arche with a snicker. “Why can’t you be like this one? She’ll eat anything as long as it’s vaguely edible.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ever insult your own cooking like that, Chester.” Cress fired back casually from next to Mint as he picked at his bowl. “Not usually your style.”

Chester just stared dumbfounded at Cress while Arche nearly fell off the log she was sitting on she was laughing so hard. Even Claus snorted into his spaghetti and Mint hid a smile behind her fork as she took a bite. Suzu seemed to be the only one unaffected, but Cress could make out the amusement in her eyes and the slight upturn of her smile.

“Cress, dude. What the hell, man?”

Cress just shrugged with a grin on his face as he took his own bite of supper tonight. Sure, camping was chaotic whenever they had to do it, but it was definitely his favourite part of them travelling together. 

[cunninginstinct]

Dark Magic

Compiled thread with @neverwinterforgottenhero​

Tension hung so taut in the air that it was practically tangible, and as the sun elf paced about in his humble shop, Sand consulted the mysterious tome she’d presented him with. Foul magicks indeed were tied to this book. Even Sand, who had known personally the wickedness of the Arcane Brotherhood, found it difficult to not be squeamish… yet utterly enraptured at the same time, in the same way that one would find it difficult to look away from a horrifying accident.

Tempting as it was to tell the distraught woman that there was no hope for her friend, and that she should leave the book under his professional care and forget the whole ordeal, there seemed to be several intriguing references in what Sand could decipher. But, looking at what was required, it was easier to tell her there was nothing to be done. Still…

Sand sighed, closing the book from both ends together. That was a mistake, as the smell of decay gusted upwards from that motion, and Sand’s sigh had just the right timing to breathe it in despite his conscious efforts to not inhale its stench. He coughed and retched for a while, feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. Hearing this, Jaral remained huddled at the very top of the staircase, tail fluffed and ears flattened.

Sand waved a hand in front of his face to attempt to clear the air as he recovered from his fit of coughing and gagging. “L-look,” he wheezed, much calmer now. “Look at the c… er-ehm. Look at the cover. See how there’s… only a few cr–” His voice broke and he hacked and coughed in a way similar to how his familiar would throw up a hairball. “There’s only a few crystals on the cover. The others seem to have been purposefully gouged out, and maybe hidden. Though I’d be simply ecstatic to tell you it may be as simple as locating and retrieving its counterparts, I wouldn’t put too much stock into your friend recovering from his curse. Possible, yes, but his chances are slim.”

The moon elf held the book underneath of his arm and clasped his hands behind his back. His expression was as grim as the tomb. “Something as powerful as this, my dear, must have some sort of guardian making sure these crystals are not recovered… whether for good or for ill. Are you really sure reviving your friend is worth the sacrifice?”

The dust clouded her vision for an instant. The mage took a long time to examine the grimoire, that didn’t seem too good. Yet she still had hope, Sand was known for his knowledge in the arcane mysteries. It was even why Lord Nasher had kept him near him. But more than that, it was the fact that the mage had worked with Ophelia, that had pushed the paladin to come here.

Oh it was not the first time she visited the shop. Yet it was maybe the first time she exchanged more than a few words with the moon elf. Until then she hadn’t noticed the cat. He too, seemed a bit affected by the dust and the smell.

It was not very surprising either, animals often sensed things better than them. And the odor that came from that flow of dust was truly horrible. She coughed a bit and tried to calm down quickly. But images of corpses flashed before her eyes.

No, no, they aren’t there, they aren’t there! You’re in a shop Rith, not there, not there…

Morninglord. With my eyes I see your holy sunrise. Morninglord. With my hands I sense your mercifull warmth. Morninglord. With my heart I feel your eternal love.

Her heart beat decreased slowly, yet she could feel a cold sweat dripping down her back. The magician didn’t seem too good either. The foul smell had invaded the shop, leaving no fresh air. Pressed against a shelf, she tried to catch her breath.

“Ugh…I see, are you alright?”

The crystals, that was the key.  She doubted that these gems were inoffensive and it looked like she was right. Every thing had a purpose, and it wasn’t the first spellbook she had found. She was used to see magical mechanisms.

She stood up, as she felt better. Her amber eyes supported the gaze of the moon elf. She was determined. She remembered too well the first time she had seen Leandre, a child back then. The blonde curls and that innocent smile hadn’t fooled her. But she had also seen how thin and dirty he was as he stole that apple. She was the one who had send him to Aarin. And yes, she was responsible. It was her fault.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes. And I’m kinda good at retrieving hidden things if I may say so.”

She paused, her tone was a bit ironic.

“That won’t be the first time I have to fight a guardian. We should elaborate a plan. when I would find it I would act accordingly. So… are you in?”

Startled by her assumption that he would simply go along, willy-nilly, into the heart of danger once more, he leaned away a little from the paladin. Holding up both of his hands in a simultaneous halting and submissive manner, he interrupted, “Oh, me? No, no, no, no. No. I have had my fill of adventuring, thank-you-very-much, and I do not intend to get myself wrapped up into the risky affairs of others over a stranger.”

He backed away, his spine (or, in this particular situation, lackthereof) brushing against the counter. “You’ll have to find someone else. No ifs, ands, or buts, my dear. While I would be simply ecstatic to put my life on the line yet again, those days are over. And my inventory will not take stock of itself.” Dismissively, he grabbed some random papers from his desk and looked them over as though she were no longer there.

The only hint he gave that he was still aware of her presence was the off-hand suggestion, “Try the mercenarys’ barracks. You’re sure to find a meatshield in there or two to help you along your way. Have a wonderful time, and ah, don’t die.”

It’s was an understatement to say that she was disapointed. Usually people were easily convinced by gold and gems. Some were also happy to help, or even eager to do what’s right. Unfortunatly the mage seemed a little to attached to his own comfort to really want to face danger.

Well it was not the first time someone said no to her. The paladin approached the cat, maybe a familiar, to hide that she had to think about a better reply to convince Sand. She reached for the cat, presenting her hand so it could smell her odor. Maybe then she could caress the lovely animal.

“Well. I still need a mage. If I understand it well, we’ll have to put the crystals back into the book to undo the curse. Maybe even perfom some ritual. And I can’t do that.”

The cat didn’t seem to mind her. In fact he didn’t seem to care at all. So she touched it very softly, Somehow it was quite comforting.

“I understand that you don’t want to risk your life for a stranger. But after what Ophelia told me about you I thought… Well that’s too bad. I need to act fast and an apprentice mage would only slow me. I need a veteran mage, one who can perform a spell while I protect him.”

Almost as a reflex she chanted softly a short prayer. Lathander give me the strenght! Then she turned to him, her amber eyes fixed on his.

“And you should know that I won’t take any meatshield. I am the shield, I have been the shield of this whole city, don’t you remember? So I’ll go alone then.”

She returned to the mage, and took the book on the counter. Her eyes were glowing with a fierce determination. A holy aura was surrounding her. She was willing to do anything to save Leandre.

Sand snootily watched as she acquainted herself with Jaral. The feline ducked his head and sniffed her hand, maintaining a respectable distance, before rearing his head to butt it into her palm, eyes closed into content little slits. A low purr rumbled in his throat. Ah, Jaral. Much more a ladies’ man than Sand ever was.

Admittedly, he felt a little bad leaving her to her own devices. Sand made an unsatisfactory host tower mage due to his guilty conscience and now here it was, throwing him headfirst into more danger and, almost worse yet, inconvenience. But did Rith really expect she would survive alone? Likely not. This was a little obvious trick she was playing on his feelings and to his unenthusiastic surprise, it was working.

One of these days, he’ll have to track down Ophelia and give her a talk about the reputation she painted of him, and how expectations go hand in hand.

“In that case, I suppose joining you would be prudent. A veteran mage would be difficult to locate in the docks district, after all, and the ones in the other quarters of Neverwinter would likely be less interested than I.” He placed both hands on the counter and leaned forward towards her, his face half-cast in shadow, one eyebrow raised. “Fair warning - I’m not risking life and limb on the whim of a stranger. I will help, but I have my boundaries.”

The feline was purring, its comforting sound was nice to hear. It was too long since she had seen such a nice cat. Well maybe not just a cat, as she was at a wizard’s shop, but still. It sure looked like one. Its fur was soft and fluffly under her fingers.

A wave of relief eased the tension in her shoulders. She felt like someone had lifted her heavy burden for now. Hearing the mage changing his mind put a smile on her face. The kind that she couldn’t erase even if she tried. Mentally she thanked the Morninglord. Then she composed herself, it was not the time to look stupidly joyfull.

“Well veteran mages seem quite rare these times. I’m really happy to see that you changed your mind. “

She approached the counter, leaning in quite close to the moon elf. Those two were like color opposites.

“That’s only fair I guess, should we discuss your boundaries right now? Or do you prefer a meal first? “

The paladin smiled.

Sand raised his hands from the counter top to cross his arms and half-turn away, still looking in her direction. “Allow me to pack first, then we’ll eat. We will have plenty of time to discuss boundaries afterwards on our way to find answers.” He sniffed and began to close up shop while she continued making friends with his familiar. “I’ll have my apprentice take over the shop for the time-being. And I trust you have authority to appeal to Lord Nasher? If you are to borrow me, in a manner of speaking, he will need to allow me the freedom to chase after you into danger without violating any codes between myself and Neverwinter.”

The mage compared wands and, with a shrug, packed both away into the bag on his hip alongside his spellbook. “Let us make relative haste, I am sure we will have a lot of ground to cover in order to help this friend of yours, Rith.” His smile was sly. “At least you had the sense to ask someone proficient enough to help, my dear. I make no promises, but I assure you I will do my best on your behalf.”

Oh so he did have boundaries, although rather tempted to address it, she didn’t say that out loud. She was honestly happy that he changed his mind. Because she knew by Ophelia how valuable his skills were. Still her joyful smile disappeared at the mention of the lord’s name. She was surprised that he too, was not totally free of his movements in the city. Maybe he was also some kind of spy.

She didn’t think about that and Ophie didn’t tell her. But well, kinda normal if any of this was a bit true. That man had pawns everywhere, even in the oddest places. That was nothing new really. She shrugged, a thin grin on her lips.

“Well, I left a note for Aarin Gend, I’m sure he will transmit the message if he thinks it has some importance to Nasher.”

As he was packing stuff, she took the grimoire back, putting it carefully into her magical backpack. Its touch made her shiver an instant. Fortunatly Rith had already packed her bag, armored, she had her weapon on her side, her shield was in the bag.

“I have a gift for that it seems. Well let’s go grab something to eat. You’re right, we don’t have much time to loose.”

[delible-ink]

Is it Folsen Yet?

Prompt 6: Au’s/Class Swap Modern AU of our boys getting together. Friends to first date--plus a community garden!

It was tradition, a raucous ritual of sorts. None of them were certain exactly when it had started, but they knew it was Jester who dragged Beau out of their apartment, and who adopted the shy half-orc who was sitting alone at the bar that first night. The rest of them joined shortly after, through one connection or another. Seven friends, in pairs or trios, found themselves crammed into a booth each week, having drinking contests, talking about life, finding commonality and making space for each other.

Every Folsen, without fail, The Mighty Nein could be found at The Rooster and the Raven, or as Jester and Molly had affectionately renamed it, the Cock and Crow. They had earned their own nickname from someone mistaking Caleb’s Zemnian “no”, and a particularly poor showing at an ill-attempted trivia night. They hadn’t gone back for trivia again, but the name stuck.

It was the perfect place for them. Good coffee, excellent pastries and a shocking variety of booze in one spot, plus it was always open. It was the only place outside of Nicodranas that Jester could get her hot cocoa exactly the way she liked it--with heaps of cinnamon.

The Rooster and the Raven became home. They were here when Fjord got his first job captaining a fishing boat, here when Beau decided she was going to cut contact with her parents, even while trying to keep tabs on her little brother. Jester threw her 21st birthday party here, and still didn’t like any of the alcohol she tried, and Molly brought everyone here for drinks after he convinced the girls to get matching tattoos with him.

They were here before the car crash, when Molly was killed by a drunk driver, when they met Caduceus, a healer who was biking past, and who tried to save their bright, beautiful friend. They were here after the funeral, and Caduceus came because he felt connected to them. He’d been with Molly at the end. They stayed on into the early hours of the morning, and the owner didn’t mind, because they knew what had happened, and in a way, felt like they’d lost one of their children that night. They canceled everyone’s tabs.

Caduceus stuck around after that night, and the Mighty Nein adopted him eagerly. He had his first (and last) whiskey here. He drew up the plans here for a community garden with Yasha with a brilliant graffiti mural that would have made Molly proud. He was here when Caleb had finally told them all, half drunk and shaking like a leaf, about the boarding school, and his parents’ death, and how, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t accept that it wasn’t his fault. Nott had held Caleb’s hand the whole time. A couple quiet tears dripped from her cheeks as she listened to Caleb speak. She’d known the story for a while now, and it still broke her heart. Caduceus felt, not for the first time, a strong desire to pull Caleb close to his chest and just hold him. That night he’d settled for being allowed to put an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and tell him he was proud of him for talking about it.

It had been over a year since Molly died. Months since Caleb had told his friends about the past he kept so secret, and both he and Caduceus had noticed the changes. Caleb would buy Cad’s tea, even though he was usually more broke than the rest of them. He would insist. Caduceus would take the far corner of the booth, and Caleb would slide in next to him, and when he got drunk, he’d slump to the side, into Caduceus, and smile sheepishly when Cad put his arm around Caleb, steadying and warm. Caduceus walked Caleb home on those nights, helped him get out of his boots and into bed. Sometimes Caleb would ask him to stay, and his hand would linger on Caduceus’ cheek, his eyes shining like topaz, pale and bright. It stabbed deep into Caduceus’ chest. He couldn’t tell if Caleb saw a ghost in him, or if these were just feelings he was too afraid of to bring into the light. Whatever the case, Cad’s answer was always the same:

“Ask me again when you’re sober.”

He hoped that maybe, just maybe, one day he would. If he even remembered these moments.

Caleb remembered, he remembered everything, but he hadn’t ever gotten the courage to ask. Caduceus was too good for him, far too good. He deserved better than a trauma-busted orphan with trust issues and an arcane history degree, trying to scrape by on odd jobs.

After a month of that question and that answer, Caduceus decided on a different course of action than waiting and wondering. It was a crisp mid-autumn morning, and of course, it was Folsen. Caleb woke to a knock at his door. He threw on pants and a shirt, scrambling to answer, thinking up excuses for his late rent. He wasn’t expecting to be met by the warm, towering presence of Caduceus, bundled in a cozy sweater and an aqua scarf. “Hey there.”“C-Caduceus. Hi. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just going to go to the garden, see how my pumpkins are coming along. Thought I’d see if you wanted to join.” Cad raised his eyebrows, a little nervous, a little hopeful, hands shoved in his pockets. His ears swished back and forth. Caleb felt his heart melt.

“Uh, um, ja. Just give me a minute. Come in. Gotta find my shoes.” Caduceus ducked into the doorway, made his way to the kitchen and leaned casually against the counter while Caleb scrambled to find clean socks. He tossed some water on his wild hair, trying to flatten it into something presentable. There was a very unruly cowlick he could do nothing about. Cad’s eyes followed him. He thought Caleb had never looked better.

“Sorry. I can’t remember where I put my scarf.”“Here.” Cad offered. He took his off, and wrapped it around Caleb.

“There. It matches your eyes.”

They stood there for a moment, Caduceus toying with the ends of the scarf before he let go with an awkward laugh.

“Let’s go see about those pumpkins, Ja?”

“Yeah. Pumpkins. Yes.” Caduceus couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as they walked, inhaling the brisk air, and stealing glances of the copper halo the sun cast around Caleb.

Caleb watched as Caduceus greeted his plants, running his fingers over the leaves of some, complementing the gourds and squash on their progress, checking the cabbages for slugs, and finally appraising the pumpkins. Caleb wished to be one of those plants, soaking up Caduceus’ radiance, his gentle caress, his kindness.  He blushed at the thought. Caduceus stood up, brushing the dirt from his hands onto his pants. “Well, they look very happy, but they’re not ready yet. I can take a butternut though. There’s one that’s ready for roasting.” He pointed. “Would you pick it for me?” Caduceus opened up his backpack, and Caleb nodded.

“I’ve never eaten butternut squash. Is it good?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. I like to roast it with apples and pecans. I would love to make some for you. I think you’d like it.”

“Maybe at Jester’s next potluck?”

“Mm. Maybe. I was thinking sooner than that.” Caduceus put the bag over his shoulder again.“Could I make you dinner tonight?”

“Well, it’s Folsen. We’ve got to get to the Cock and Crow...I wouldn’t want to rush you...”

“I’ve got all day. Spending it with you seems like it’d be really nice.”

Caleb looked at his shoes, and his hair fell in his eyes.

“Caleb?” Caduceus reached out and tucked Caleb’s hair behind his ear, lifting his face up to meet his gaze. “Would you like that? To spend the day with me?”

Caleb couldn’t look away. That gentle, open expression Caduceus wore had him transfixed.

He swallowed hard, and his mouth went dry. “Ja. Yes. I would, I would like that very much, Caduceus.”

“Caleb?”“Ja Caduceus?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Caleb closed his eyes and leaned up in response, and Caduceus met him with silken lips and a delighted hum.

Folsen had been their favorite day of the week for a while, but today, today was the best one yet.

[arcanacouncilrp]

     event four     -      june 20 - july 9

                   before.

      The air at The Lair is thick with tension. Mirror-selves (evil twins? Past incarnations?) seem to have slid into many lives in the past few weeks, though a few Councilors have yet to be approached. Don’t hold your breath - you won’t be spared whatever strategic assault this is. 

      It doesn’t appear to end with delightful little one-on-one chats, either. All of the alternate Councilors promised to return (or did they?) and that promise has yet to be kept, but their presence is still felt by those who have any inkling what is happening around them.

      On June 20th, The Empress returned to her bedroom to find her walls adorned with shifting vines, a wreath of flowers blooming on her pillow: forget-me-nots and almond blossoms. Do not forget your promise. 

      That same day, Death spied a crow watching him through windows or from trees in the distance. Watching, never moving, never intervening or coming close for another warning. Its eyes were hollow, defeated.

      Judgement’s desk was piled higher by the hour with pages of scrambled notes in his own handwriting, though hastily-written and half-encoded. He had never seen them before they appeared. Over and over all of them say one thing: there is no other way.

       A card which escapes the deck during a reading is often taken as a sign from the universe; while shuffling her deck, The Hermit watched one slide away from the others. Nine of Swords. The warning gave her pause, but she went on with her day until she found nine knives lined up to face her on the counter in the kitchen. Nine needles missing from her knitting basket. Nine tallies etched into the glass of her mirror. It was no longer a warning but a threat: you have let fear rule you, so be afraid.

      The High Priestess and The Tower both found little nudges to consider what they were told, though each carries a different tone. One is carefully tucked into the pages of a book just far enough out of place that it will certainly be noticed by its caretaker, and reads: there is so much more to your world, if only you are willing to take the reins and charge forward. The other is charred into The Tower’s closet door: do you have what it takes?

      Each time she returns to her office, The Magician finds something out of place or disorganized in a way she would never allow in this life. The message is clear enough not to need translation, but she may not be so willing to listen.

      Hardly needing a nudge, and unwilling to receive one from just about anyone anyway, The Emperor is greeted by four small words in her own handwriting on a crisply folded piece of letterhead: my offer expires soon.

      The Fool received… Nothing. Perhaps that was the message. Perhaps he was right to have no faith in himself, just as he doesn’t anyone else.

      The gift left for The Chariot may be the most interesting of all. It’s a tome in old leather, its pages so yellow and thin they feel more like fall leaves than paper, and on them appears to be magic. The sort you draw ritual circles and cast arcane spells from. The sort that should not still exist, because magic is not free. Its prices, however, are not listed within the pages. No message need accompany that to explain the challenge: how powerful are you willing to get? How much can you learn on your own?

                  now.

      In the next few days the mansion is bustling with activity. Councilors band together in groups to figure out what exactly is going on, who they can trust. Perhaps it is high time for someone to call a meeting, but how does anyone know they are not alone in these strange occurrences?

      Luckily for them perhaps, The Empress and Judgement do not have to work hard to trust one another. Quickly they realize they had two very different experiences meeting themselves. He is concerned and she is nothing but enamored by her visit - they do not quite see eye to eye, but perhaps they have important information to share with one another. Maybe they can piece the puzzle together with each other’s help. Maybe they could bring the issue to the Council as a whole, organize an official meeting and be unofficial leaders, but that is up to them.

      The Chariot has been given a key and a choice. Her book of magic contains all kinds of possibilities: scrying, small feats of alchemy, even the promise of commune with the dead. Does the thing itself feel sinister as she holds it in her hands, or can she overlook that to sate her curiosity? If she tries to hide it from the others, she fails at least once. The Tower stalks right to her, chaos itching in his bones. Two Councilors with tight control over their potent magic, flipping through an old spellbook… What could go wrong?

      The mirror selves, the evil twins, the Bizarro World alters - whatever they are, they are not yet finished with the Council. The Devil is ambushed by hers on June 21st, its silver tongue as enticing as any serpent’s. When it leaves The Devil to her own devices, she runs into The Hierophant, whose exact mirror just departed from her, too. Is this a moment of truth between them?

      The next day Strength is met on the shallow river beach by a surfer identical to her. The noise of their conversation draws The High Priestess away from his stroll, though he arrives to find only one Strength at the water’s edge. Is it excitement or fear he tastes on the air?

      At much the same time on another part of the island, an eerily familiar face approaches The Lovers when she is alone. Or when she appears to be. The Fool just so happens to be right around the corner, able to hear every word. He even watches the other version depart, sliding into the shadows like she is made of them. Whether or not he goes to the one left standing is up to him.

      Later that evening The Fool’s feet and powers carry him aimlessly around. If he is looking for some sign that he is not alone, he’ll get something - perhaps not what he wants. He finds The Hermit in a kitchen doting on him as she can be expected to, his other self keeping her at arm’s length but otherwise playing his part better than any actor. He slides The Fool a sly look, one finger to his lips.

      Justice and Temperance are easy to find, concerned only with what disrupted the ley lines and confined often to the lab for research. They send The Hanged Man off to each break location for further investigation. Wheel of Fortune pretends to tag along to be useful, quickly proving they aren’t there to offer much insight. The Sun keeps up the gym schedule even for those Councilors rattled by what they are seeing, and The Star, easily dissuaded from trying to be useful, is only available for advice to those who seek them out.

      The Moon, in a dream, meets a figure identical to her. The strange encounter only grows wilder by the moment as it begins to affect the waking world. How has this other Moon straddled the two realms? She doesn’t get an answer, her commotion summoning nearby Death to, for once, wake her from her nightmare.

      The chessboard has become tangled with unfamiliar pieces threatening the familiar order of things. The Emperor and The Magician feel the change acutely. When they end up in the same stacks in the library tracking down answers to the same question, they face a challenge which is not new, but feels strange: show their cards in pursuit of the answers, or stick to old ways and trust only themselves?

Hello to all and a happy plot day too! Strange things still abound for our colorful cast. Each little detail is being noted and put to good use for our next few events, and now we’ve introduced some rogue elements, too. Who knows what fun that will bring? Those of you who have not had the terror of a special encounter can expect us in your DMs very soon! This event will last from June 19th to July 9th, and a few specific dates are listed above. If you have any questions about when something can or should occur, just come right to us. 

As always, you have your plot-given partners to write with, but all other interactions you desire during this event are more than welcome, and feel free to continue your old threads, too! Don’t forget to get your encounters with your body doubles up on the dash so everyone can see them - no rush on those, just a little reminder! And, most importantly, have tons of fun!

[huffle-puppy]

The Stars That Bind

@drew-winchester, I promised two things--that I’d write something happier, and that I’d write this scene. This is about as opposite in tone from my previous fics for you as I could get, which is a happy thing! (And I’m glad to be writing of happiness--I’ve had a rough few months with school that have blessedly finally evened out; else I’d’ve gotten this out to you sooner.) Enjoy :3

Khadgar woke up with a weight over his chest. His eyes darted open, quick and anxious that the Legion was attacking again and somehow had made it into the city--

    Perry’s lips met his, soft and full.

    He lay there a moment, disoriented but quickly returning to the present, before wrapping up his beloved in a tight hug, kissing her back tenderly.

    The morning light strode in upon them from behind the curtains, casting a soft glow about her. She pulled back slightly, folding her hands over his heart and setting her chin on them, bright eyes and sweet smile bathing his face in radiance.

    “Good morning, Sun,” she murmured, voice a quiet song against his ears.

    “G’morning, Stars,” he replied, stretching and yawning and settling back, hugging her close again. “What’s… time?”

    “It’s something the Bronze Dragons know a lot about, dear.” Perry giggled and kissed his chin. White stubble prickled against her lips, and she nuzzled against it, scrunching up her nose. “You’re getting to be a cactus.”

    Khadgar sighed, a smile playing at his lips. “I can shave.”

    Perry laughed. “I don’t mind you being my Cactus-Mage~!”

    She kissed his chin again and moved back out of his arms. Khadgar sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, pausing looking her over. She was already dressed to go out, leather armor worn and heavy. Reliable, thick and not made for showing off the person beneath, but still…

    “Are you staying in bed all day, my love?”

    Khadgar blinked and shook his head slightly. “Hm?”

    Perry smiled softly, tucking a white strand of hair behind one elven ear. “Are you staying in bed all day? You paused, looking at me.”

    He blushed lightly. “Of course I paused, looking at you. Why wouldn’t I pause, love?”

    She giggled, a dash of purple rushing over her pink features, but gave no reply. He smiled and hoisted himself up out of bed, cleaned himself off, and dressed to go in robes that had seen so much conflict.

    “So, where to?” he asked, meeting her at the door.

    Perry’s smile faded. “Darkshore. Even with-- Even with things settled, and Deathwing finally gone--”

    “There’s still so much to do,” Khadgar murmured.

    She nodded, face set in determination and courage. His heart moved faster, looking into her eyes, and he took a breath to steady himself, nodding back. They would do as much good as they could, today. And-- perhaps--

    Well, perhaps it was time.

    There was, after all, something waiting in Ashenvale he’d set up. The elves there were patient; they’d still be waiting, surely--

    Khadgar summoned a portal around them, and moments later it crackled and crept away again to the ether, and they stood huddled together against the Lor’danel winds.

    The shoreline bathed them in what should have been a resplendent serenity. The water broke along the edge of the town and down the sandy beach for miles, waves cresting and filling the air with sighs of power before they receded and another took their place. The trees seemed almost to hum against the wooded edge of Lor’danel, and the occasional wisp darted too and fro merrily. Animals wandered in curiously to be greeted by the tall, friendly populace, and beyond the ocean’s edge, far out into the water--just a bit too far to comfortably swim--the massive tree Teldrassil stood, looming, a pillar to the everlasting victory of nature and nurtured hope. Home of the Night Elves, Perry’s people--

    His beloved, Khadgar noted, maintained her brave demeanor, yet the occasional small fidget in her fingers let him see a tired anxiety beneath. Perry was, after all, as small as he himself was, compared to the tall elves, and, though they for the most part seemed quite polite, he knew every race to have some inborn judgmental streak. He himself had worked hard to turn off those thoughts when working with Orcs, and even then some residual murmurs rumbled about.

    “Anywhere specifically you had in mind, my dearest?”

    He took her hand in his, warm and strong, and the fidget ceased as she glanced back at him. Her brief, sweet smile lit up his soul.

    “There’s a refugee camp a few miles down the road,” Perry said. “They were hit hard after Auberdine collapsed. The elementals and cultists in the area were taken care of, but I’m sure they could use all they help they could get, right now.

    Khadgar nodded, found the Saber-Keeper in the town, and chartered a ride down the shoreline to the Auberdine ruins. Perry was delighted to climb on the back of the large saber cat, and Khadgar, who had far less experience with them, tried to remain as pleasantly calm as possible. If he could deal with the Legion out in Outland, it was absolutely foolish that a giant cat would scare him!

    Especially considering that Perry, being a druid, could turn into a (albeit smaller) cat with just as ferocious claws and fangs.

    Although, perhaps he should be frightened. She was, after all, the last person he ever wanted to make angry…

    Perry giggled as he hugged her waist tighter. “It’s just a big lovable kitty, Khadgar!” she called back against the wind rushing around them. He said nothing, smiled, and hugged her tighter still.

    Soon enough, they got to the ruins of the once-great Auberdine. Khadgar looked on in sorrow at the great devastation wrought upon the town; buildings fractured and sunken into the ground; water and sand consuming the foundations; massive jutting cracks of earth spearing upwards, carving through the old town roads and homes.

    Perry looked on with him, pain inexpressibly quiet in her eyes, before turning back to the saber and thanking it for taking them this far, petting its long mane and making it trot over to Khadgar and poke its fluffy head under his hand. The mage started, looking down at it quickly, then chuckled and gave it a suitable reward of scritches before it trotted back to the road and took off back to Lor’danel.

    “Let’s find this camp, then,” Khadgar said. Perry moved over, taking his hand and squeezing it tight, and together they walked on past the Auberdine ruins.

    The camp didn’t take too long to find; off the main path leading out from the town, by the road’s sign-post, a large area of grass had been trampled down. Upon it, tents were erected from tarps that had seen better weather and the straightest fallen branches the elves could find. Against the back edge, a caravan was parked, and from it, various clothes and medical supplies were being distributed and stored away again. A scarce number of refugees huddled together against the winds, barely fifty by Khadgar’s count; less than half of the town’s populace. However, he knew, trying to shine hope back on that bleak thought, that any in better shape would’ve already made their way up to Lor’danel.

    Dentaria Silverglade, a Priestess of the Moon, pale skin accentuated by her white satin robes, looked up from one of the refugees on the ground. She stood, taller than either the human or his elven lover, but nonetheless bowed in respect.

    “May I help you two?”

    “That’s what we wanted to ask you,” Perry said softly. The elves of the camp watched the newcomers wearily, but Perry’s gaze stayed focused on the Priestess. The taller woman blinked, then smiled.

    “Help would be appreciated,” Dentaria replied. “I fear the tasks will be menial and few; we have most of what we need. Nonetheless, we would not turn down your offer.”

    Khadgar smiled. “What do you need, Priestess?”

    Dentaria turned her gaze to him. One of the elven mages of the camp, recognizing Khadgar, offered him a brisk salute before continuing his work.

    “Firewood to last the night and any herbs you can find--especially anything edible, though those with toxins we can use in salves and treatments.”

    The couple set off into the Darkshore woods.

    Khadgar, determined not to upset any of the wonderful trees--and any forest critters whose homes were in there--limited himself only to branches that had fallen. There were, blessedly, many of them, and it wasn’t long before he had to summon arcane servants to carry the back-breaking load of firewood.

    Perry, meanwhile, who they determined was far more likely to recognize specific herbs from any tall blades of overgrown grass, sprinted along in the forest, pausing by the edge of a nearby river, looking along the base and roots of each tree, giving her pleasant regards to the bears and stags and cats that roamed free through the area.

    An hour passed this way, and they returned to camp with what they’d amassed.

    Dentaria, surprised and delighted, thanked them both for their efforts. There was, as she commented bashfully, however very little the camp could give back, including even such a meager reward as lunch. Perry laughed, shaking her head, saying sweetly that no reward was necessary. The knowledge they were safer and better off was reward enough.

    The elves of the camp watched her more intently, some even smiling. Small in stature and different as she was, there was a pure heart beneath an irresistible smile.

    Khadgar certainly thought so, lost once more in her presence. It was definitely time, he thought to himself.

    He took her hand, thanking the Priestess and wishing the camp well, and summoned another portal. Perry stepped through it first, he followed, and they came out at the wondrous Astranaar, further down the continent in Ashenvale.

    The elven town, larger than Auberdine and intact, bustled with its occupants. Night Elves went too and fro, mostly uninhibited, though the occasional Sentinel, Draenei, or Worgen wandering through broke the quiet hum of their forest lives. Around them all, the trees sighed and leaned in, protection; beyond them, a natural river carved around the island of the town.

    A safe haven, beautiful, sweet.

    Perry looked around, smiling brightly. “Khadgar? We’re having lunch here?”

    Khadgar smiled to himself, glancing around. The tailor of the town, sitting out on his front porch and watching the world, got up and bowed to the mage, going inside his shop.

    “Khadgar?”

    Perry looked back to him, smile still lighting up her features. Khadgar met her gaze, thoughts racing and heart starting to pound harder, nervous. Perry blinked.

    “That’s a very wistful smile to have, my darling.” Perry moved to him, taking his hands. “What’s clouding your thoughts?”

    Khadgar looked around, sighing. The trees were so old and so wonderfully strong. Some of the branches overlapped; some even intertwined. Old souls spinning their way up to the heavens.

    Khadgar took a deep breath, looking back to his beloved.

    “Peregrïn Starfallen.”

    Perry blinked again, eyes opening wider after. Her breath slowed, and her face colored purple. After all this time, hearing him say her name in such soft, rich tones still made her heart skip.

    Khadgar started to say something, paused, then chuckled and looked down, hand moving into a pocket of his robes and fishing about for something.

    “I-- Well. Perry. I’m not-- I know I’m not the best with speeches and eloquence--” He pulled something out of his pocket, something small, that she couldn’t see quite yet-- “--and I also know, beyond any magic I’ve learned; books I’ve memorized-- histories, anything-- that I love you. I love being near you. I love every moment I have with you. So I’m going to do something that terrifies me, irrationally, far more than any demon invasion.”

    Khadgar knelt down before her, looking up with a faint smile. Perry’s breath caught, and the world around was silent, in awe, watching them. Khadgar revealed the small box he’d pulled from his robe, opening it to show a ring, a carved perfect pearl inset among the petals of a pure white starflower.

    “Peregrïn Starfallen, will you grant me the privilege of being your husband?”

    Perry gulped. A faint smile slowly danced along her face. She opened her mouth to speak, shut it again, and nodded, smile growing faster and faster. Khadgar let out a deep breath, relaxing, taking her hand in his, warm and gentle, so much coarser with war, and slid the cold band onto her slender finger.

    She looked at it, grinning ear to ear, then threw her arms around him as he stood again, kissing him with deep, tender passion. He held her close, kissing back with as much loving energy.

    How long she held that intimate contact, she didn’t know. Time was nonexistent. All that there was was him.

    She did finally pull back with a giggle, blushing deep purple. “Why, d-- darling, was that so much more terrifying?”

    Khadgar blushed, looking away sheepishly. “If you said no…”

    Perry wrinkled her nose and covered his cheek and neck with a myriad of soft kisses, hugging him tighter.

    “Do you really think, Khadgar, that I would have ever refused you? I love you with all my being. Wherever you are; whatever happens-- I will forever be yours, and you mine.”

    Khadgar smiled, nuzzling her cheek.

    Perry paused, still blushing. “Does this mean now we have to go mad with inviting everyone and decorations and…?”

    She trailed off, wincing. Khadgar chuckled, nodding over to the tailor’s hut.

    Perry glanced over. The tailor smiled and waved, beckoning her to come in. She blinked up at Khadgar.

    “You didn’t… did you?”

    He chuckled. “I thought it’d be easier than trying to create a big fuss for weeks on end and rescheduling everyone’s lives…”

    She blushed and moved over curiously to the tailor’s shop, disappearing inside. Khadgar gulped, moving over to the row of houses against one side of the town. The Night Elves beamed, appraising him, and the tailor’s wife handed him a bundle, bowing deeply. Khadgar took it, bowing back, saying in his best elven that he was extremely grateful to her and her husband before moving off to change.

    The sun, just starting to dip down in the sky, cast a golden glow through the leaves, sending shadows and beautiful patterns of nature scattered along the ground. Secluded in a small grove at the edge of Astranaar, a Moonwell of glowing, pure waters cast an ethereal light. The townsfolk were seated pleasantly or standing by the ring of trees, leaving room down the middle aisle. In the pure waters, another Priestess of Elune stood, covered in light robes and a thick, deep hood, so that the Goddess herself could see through her.

    Khadgar stood at the Moonwell’s edge at her command, dressed in an elven suit of fine white silks. He breathed as evenly as he could, yet nothing could prepare him as the crowd let out a murmur of reverence. He turned.

    Perry stood at the end of the aisle. The tailor had outdone himself: her wedding gown rolled smoothly along her top half, outlining her with dignity and regality fit for an angel itself. It was cut deep along her front and back, and along her shoulders and the border of the cut, white rose petals had been sewn in, adorning her with the delicate beauty of the finest craftsmanship nature had. The sleeves ended at the elbow loosely, and white lace, dazzled with jewels tenderly shaped in floral arcs, wound its way up to her wrist and along the back of her hands.

    Seamlessly, the tight fabric billowed out along her hips and below, giving such slender folds as the robes the maidens of the stars might wear. Against her hip was fashioned a five-pointed flower of huge white petals, and along her ears the glitter of small chains connecting piercings hung down.

    Perry met his gaze with a soft smile, vulnerable but without any shyness. She was his to behold.

    And behold he did. That such a sight of magnificence and beauty could ever appear before him, much less be wed to him--

    “Light above,” he managed to mumble.

    Perry made her way down the aisle to him, slow, steady strides. The dress billowed around her feet but never once threatened to get caught under them. The crowd murmured in awe as she passed them by, shining brighter than any star above, bathed in the soft glow of the sunlight and the glistening purity of the Moonwell.

    She came to her beloved’s side and stood still, facing him, a blush spreading slowly along her features as she looked over his visage. He was a statue come to life; so perfectly, achingly handsome, white hair and drawn face; strong and tall, sleek and powerfully magnetic in his suit, drawing her in without any attempt. Elven patterns wound around his chest, and she resisted hard the urge to brush her fingers along every one of them.

    The Priestess took a deep breath, reaching her hands up to the heavens. The lovers looked to her as the Moonwell shined brighter. She brought her arms down, slow, slow…

    Her voice rang out, deep and high, charged with power:

    “I am the Queen of the Starry Vaults, the residing Mistress of Heaven, the Moon in all her phases and majesty. I preside now over the union of two mortals, their paths irreversibly entwined; their souls, in my will, to bind together for all the eons left that Time shall spin its webs. Lest this be done with error, I offer first the chance to any and all who can think of a reason why these two may not wed. Speak, if you have words with which to speak.”

    The elves of Astranaar and all of nature beyond stayed silent.

    The Priestess of Elune bowed, then held out her hands.

    “Join hands and step into my waters.”

    Khadgar glanced at Perry. She glanced back. They smiled faintly, and with interlaced fingers stepped up the steps to the Moonwell and into the pure waters. Despite the liquid, though, neither their legs nor their garments seemed to get the slightest bit wet.

    “Face each other.”

    They did, and it took all their will not to embrace, their beaming faces full with such sweet intimacy.

    “Take both hands.”

    They did, interlacing their fingers; no balance of power between them save equality in love.

    The Priestess produced from her robes two golden cords, tying them one at a time around either set of hands. Neither Perry or Khadgar even felt the fabric, too busy looking into each other’s eyes. The Priestess receded again to her place.

    “Speak the vows of the Soul, and give your ties meaning.”

    “Khadgar. To you, I give the years of my life. To you, I give the air and the fire, and all my power with which you may do as you will. I give you my unending devotion, my loyalty, and all the hours and chambers of my heart. Within you, I give a piece of my soul, to nourish and cherish and grow, to be your calm in any storm of life, to be your shield and defense, to be your sword and guardian. I give to you all I have, all I shall ever be, and all that I am. Until Time’s wheel cracks and the echoes of Eternity fall silent again in the realm of the Divine, I pledge my soul as yours.”

    Perry spoke softly, murmuring without even knowing the words. They flowed neat and beautiful from her mouth, and with each syllable the golden cords along their arms glowed brighter.

    “Peregrïn. To you, I give the years of my life. To you, I give the water and the earth, and all my power with which you may do as you will. I give you my unending service, my faithfulness, and all the hours and chambers of my heart. Within you, I give a piece of my soul, to nourish and cherish and grow, to be strength in any time of hardship, to be your shield and defense, to be your sword and guardian. I give to you all I have, all I shall ever be, and all that I am. Until the Stars crumble from the sky and the Divine Beings of Elune and Eonar fall once again to the next cycle of Creation, I pledge my soul as yours.”

    Khadgar’s words came out smooth and entranced. The golden cords burned bright as the sun along their arms.

    “Kiss,” Elune murmured, “and be One.”

    The lovers kissed, and everything melted away. The cheer of the Night Elves around them, the electricity sparkling through the air, the wisps watching on, the trees, the earth, the sky: nothing was there. They stood together, pressed together, lips caressing, a zenith of all they could be. They felt each other, knew each other, and beyond the plane of mortality, their souls entwined and held fast, pieces of a grand cosmic puzzle that had found each other after so very long.

    The Priestess gently undid the cord, and the kiss broke. Perry and Khadgar looked at each other, breathing hard in a daze, the static of their connection no less heightened than it was, no less than it ever would be now. The Night Elves were clapping in a steady rhythm, and they looked together to the end of the aisle where a broom had been placed along the ground.

    Jump over it together, enter the new life.

    They grinned to each other, rushing forward, the world passing by in a smooth shifting set of colors, and in one motion, they were over the broom and out of the glade, off into the world.

    Rain started to fall from new clouds above. Perry glanced up and laughed. Khadgar grinned, still watching her gorgeousness, still squeezing her hand tight. He summoned another portal, taking them to an inn by the quieter end of Ashenvale, near the border of Darkshore overlooking the ocean. Without breaking stride, he went in with her, lifted her up into his arms, and carried her to the room the innkeeper had set aside for him--the best one there was to offer.

    There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her; nothing she wouldn’t do for him. Without a second thought, they were bound for this and every lifetime. Husband and Wife. Khadgar and Peregrïn.

[mahalzevran]

DA 20+ Questions

Tagged by @antivan-surana​ thanks! Tagging @situationnormal​ @the-dread-doggo​ @acepavus​ @aroundofgwent​ @lakambaeni​ @kxnways​ @fuckbioware​ (no pressure ofc) and anyone who wants to?

The rest is under a read more because it’s long

01) Favourite game of the series?

Origins, only because you got less and less op as a mage as the games went on. I love all the games tbh.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

My friend got my sister into it. They kept talking and talking about it so finally I was like “ok lets see what the big deal is” and here I am now

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

I’ve done Origins twice fully, DA2 four times fully (omg I didn’t realize this until now lol) and DA:I just once fully. I have one unfinished playthrough of Origins with a Cousland, and I’m in the middle of maybe two of DA:I. I think I’ve gone back and replayed certain parts of both Origins and DA:I plenty of times.

04) Favourite race to play as?

Elf I guess? Though I’ve only fully played as a human and elf. I’m in the middle of a dwarf playthrough and I’m thinking of doing a qunari one in the future. It might change idk.

I just really liked playing as an elf in Origins so that’s why I got into elves. But the funny thing is, I wasn’t even thinking of playing as an elf when I played for the first time. I wanted to play as a human. I just did it on a whim.

05) Favourite class?

Mage, hands down. Realistically, they’re the most versatile class. They can do range and melee since anyone can learn how to fight with weapons. But the last two games won’t let you so :)

Also, this stems from the fact that I’ve been a harry potter fan since I could remember.

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

In my full, proper playthroughs that I’ve finished, it’s slightly different but still the same basic ideas. Sided with mages, agreed with Anders, etc.

But I am planning to try an evil playthrough in the future so

07) Go-to adventuring group?

DA:O (I have two)

Leliana, Wynne, Shale - the OG crew; they were my main crew in my first playthrough and it was a pretty even party

Zevran, Leliana, Alistair - the elf crew; esp. with Rhian they’re all elves because I saw a theory that Leliana is half elf and I’m down

DA2

It’s a mixed bag. If I’m not playing as a mage, I usually take Anders a lot because we need a healer and Merrill can’t heal. I tend not to take Sebastian as much after I max his friendship. After Sebastian, I take Aveline the least. Other than that I just mix it up. Unless I’m romancing someone, then I take them every time.

I’d love to take Anders, Fenris, and Merrill out more often but I hate how mean they all are to each other (looking @ u bioware 👀)

DA:I

My first playthrough, I mixed it up a lot in the beginning but then I ended up bringing Solas, Cole, and Blackwall a lot near the end for some reason?

I love taking Vivienne, Dorian, and Solas out, especially if I’m playing a mage, because it’s such a pretty fireworks show

In general though, if I’m romancing someone I take them with me almost always.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

I think it’s a tie between Rhian and Lu.

09) Favourite romance?

To no one’s surprise, it’s Zevran :3

Solas is second because I just really like that angst.

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

I’ve read The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak, and Until We Speak (because someone gifted me the Omnibus) and The Calling.

I also have Hard in Hightown, which I should probably read lol, and the art book of inquisition.

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book?

The Calling solely because of my mom Fiona and my dad Duncan. 

12) Favourite DLCs?

Awakening because I love everyone and its also really funny that Rhian, who is 19 at that point, had to basically babysit people older than her and also run a whole arling.

I love both Legacy and Mark of the Assassin. Mark of the Assassin was really funny (though I hated the stealth part). I love Legacy specifically because when I was fighting Corypheus, both Varric and Anders K.O.’d and it was just me and Carver. It was a special family moment bringing down a whole entire magister together. I also hc that that was canon and it brought Kaia and Carver closer together.

13) Things that annoy you.

I’m gonna talk about the game bc if this is about the fandom, then that’s a whole other thing.

Anders’ writing for one. It doesn’t make sense that he’d approve of giving Fenris back to Danarius. And also that he wouldn’t tell f!Hawke that he’s bi? Then there’s the fact that Anders, Fenris, and Merrill all don’t get along when they have a lot in common.

Anything that was written by Lukas Krisdkjsdhkdk. Aveline, Sera, etc. he did a really bad job.

Also didn’t like that mages got less OP in the last two games.

There’s also the tone-deafness? Dorian, a brown man, saying slavery is ok. And also there’s the dialogue between Solas and Vivienne where Solas supposedly “owns” Vivienne. I think he says something like “may you learn”? Solas, a white person, saying this to Vivienne, a black woman, when there’s obvious colorism in Thedas? I think not.

There’s probably other but I can’t think of them right now.

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Orlais is too snooty and Ferelden doesn’t season their food. I pick Seheron and Laysh because that’s where the Asians are at.

15) Templars or mages?

Mages

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

Originally, my canonverse was Rhian, Kaia, and Luwalhati. Alden and Bolin were part of an AU. Then Alden finagled his way in there, then I decided to have Bolin in there too. So now i have twin Hawkes and Bolin is part of the Inquisition (if he’s a companion or not, I haven’t thought about)

I have plenty of other OCs that I’m planning on, but they’re currently sorted into a different universe.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Pikamon for the Origins mabari. It’s a mix between the names of my two dogs, Pikachu and Cinnamon

Cinnachu for the DA2 mabari, also a mix of Pikachu and Cinnamon.

Lu’s mount is the royal sixteen (hart), which is given to you by Clan Lavellan if you manage to keep them alive iirc, and its name is Luntian, the tagalog word for green which is her favorite color. (In a teen!Lu AU, her mount is the bog unicorn bc she’s an edgelord)

18) Have you installed any mods?

It would be more surprising if I didn’t. How else would I manage to have my characters look like the’re poc?? And also get rid of whitewashing and have some continuity. I usually just do cosmetic mods if it’s my first playthrough. Then I do like “cheats” after I finish the game fully.

Fun fact, I once spent like 2+ hrs modding Origins to have the Zev romance the way I want. I also stayed up until like 5am trying to make Solas look like his concept art lol (it didn’t really work)

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Rhian didn’t not want to become a warden. She read about them and thought they were an honorable order, but she didn’t expect to ever have a chance to become one. Her goal was to just go up in the Circle hierarchy, maybe even become First Enchanter. Then when the time came, she didn’t really have much of a choice.

20) Hawke’s personality?

Kaia is blue and Alden is purple

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

At first, I didn’t get what the big deal was with crafting. It didn’t seem fun at all lol. Then I tried it and was hooked. I don’t have them matching, but I do tend to try to match my Inquisitor with their LI in some way.

My usual procedure for armor in Inquisition is like this. I make everyone wear heavy armor and pick the materials that have the highest attributes, not caring how ridiculous the colors are. Then I go to tint them using a guide for each companion’s color scheme. This is the same for helmet but I usually have them turned off or have no one wearing one.

The only exception is Varric, Cole, and Blackwall. I have Varric wear the rogue armor that looks like his DA2 outfit, and Cole and Blackwall wear the Grey Warden heavy armor. I tint the grey warden armor using a guide for its color scheme.

I have Bull, Vivienne, and Cole wear their unique helmets.

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Rhian - She’d probably want to re-do how she told Zevran that she wasn’t exactly dead.

Kaia - Taken Quentin’s threat more seriously and killed him before he got to Leandra

Alden - He has no regrets

Luwalhati - wouldn’t have taken Sam and Wis with her so they wouldn’t have had to have died in the conclave explosion

Bolin - None, all of his decisions led him to Dorian and he’s happy with that.

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

They’re all at least part Seheron?

I also hc that neither Carver nor Bethany die because Kaia was able to cast a barrier on both of them before the ogre got them. Then they both became Grey Wardens because Carver contracted the taint in the expedition and wouldn’t join the Wardens unless Bethany came with him too.

Another hc I have is that Sebastian didn’t leave when Anders was spared and stayed to help out. But he went his separate way after because he still didn’t approve of sparing him.

Oh shoot, I almost forgot. The most against canon thing I’ve done probably? Rhian didn’t do the Ritual but she did slay the archdemon without dying. Rhian’s an arcane warrior, so when she slayed it, she was partway in the fade. Being partway into the fade was enough for her essence, I guess, to survive it. But she’s not mortal anymore and kind of a spirit now? So she periodically has to chill in the fade because being in the real world takes a toll on her.

25) Who did you leave in the Fade?

In the game, it was Stroud. I killed Loghain and no way is Alistair gonna be trapped in there. Fiona will be sad. So I made Alistair king in the game only, so Stroud was the one that was left.

This is another off canon thing I did. In my actual canon, Alistair is the warden contact. The Hawke that comes to the Inquisition is both Kaia and Alden. Alden brings Fenris with him because he doesn’t go anywhere without his Boo-Boo. Bethany and Carver also come because Weisshaupt was being weird and it seemed like they would be safer in the Inquisition. Lu + her party, Alistair, Kaia, Alden, Fenris, Bethany, and Carver all come to Adamant. Because there’s so many people, everyone was able to escape the Fade. No one is left behind.

26) Favourite mount? The nugs! All of them :) 

Though I don’t really use the mounts lol

[rannadylin]

💬 💬 for PoE, 💬 for Critical Role, 💬 for Dragon Age and 💬 for Tolkien, have fun rereading your fics :D

So much to reread, oh goodness… XD It was fun though! So here’s my picks:

I’m always especially proud when I manage to choreograph an action scene well, because those aren’t my typical thing and I’m happy when I can pull it off, so for the two PoE quotes, here’s Vi and team chasing a psychopathically Awakened preteen in Clan & Court, chapter 4:

“I would notrecommend eating that,” Anselm nodded to the bun on his own plate.“Violet…pardon me, but my conclusions which I discussed earlier with you seemto have been off. By one small degree.” And his glance flicked again to theboy, who was now nearly to the door leading down to the farmhouse’s cellar.Beside Xipil’s chair, Yaotl gave out a low whine.

Violet exchanged a glance with Edér, seated beside her, hisexpression confirming that he’d caught on at about the same time she had. Ather grim nod, he launched from his chair and around the table toward the cellardoor. Eadric was through the door by the time Edér, now followed by a train oforlans and one hound, got there. Wilfrith sat sputtering in surprise for amoment as they all disappeared down the cellar steps, then got to his feet andhurried in their wake.

They chased Eadric through the ancient passageways, finallycornering him in the chapel hidden among the catacombs. Edér barrelled throughthe doorway just as Eadric grabbed a handful of candles from the altar, theirlittle flames flickering and half of them sputtering out before the boy slammedthem down onto the weathered old tome of Eothasian prayers that lay open amidstthe lights. “Wait!” Edér shouted, even as the boy, teeth bared and handsclenched in fists, turned to face him from across the altar with its bookquickly catching fire. “Eadric, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Let it all burn!” the boy rasped in a voice not quite his own.“You want the light? I’ll show you light!”

As Edér tried to edge around the altar to get to him, Eadricgrabbed more candles, first holding them out as if to fend Edér off, and thenstarting to fling them at him, one by one. Edér swore and ducked the littleflames, which guttered out quickly on the stone floor if not in midflight. Thenfrom behind him, a greater light suddenly glowed, and he felt a tingling warmthmove through him as a ball of glowing energy, the timbre of a winter morning’ssun upon fresh snow, passed silently by with the aroma of icicles. At a glancehe saw Violet behind him, palm out towards the altar, frowning in concentrationwhile her siblings – and of course Anselm – fanned out to either side of thealtar to help Edér intercept Eadric. Looking forward again, he saw the lightshe had projected, still in the rough form of a ball of energy but he couldswear at its heart he saw a figure of light, crowned. As it moved over thealtar, one candle after another winked out and the flames playing over the bookfinally died down, replaced by a layer of frost.

Eadric was staring agape at Violet’s slowly advancingprojection, lit only dimly by the candles still burning along the walls of thechapel, when Edér finally leaped over the icy altar and tackled him to thestone floor.

And from Soul & Shield, Chapter 15, here’s the fight scene that surrounds the activation of the Haven: (gonna put the rest of these behind the cut, this is getting long…)

Anselm? Lenneththought desperately. Hi! Trouble! She dodged as one wizard’s magic missiles slammedinto the cobblestones where she’d been standing, ducked and rolled as thesecond wizard loosed a cone of ice her way. From the marketplace, she heard asudden commotion and glanced that way just long enough to see several moreattackers closing in – but behind them, several familiar faces. “Ha!” Lennethcheered, then shrieked in pain as one of the wizards caught her in a ray offire that went on burning even as she darted forward with her knives out,gritting her teeth against the pain, in hopes of stabbing at its source.

A pillar of light slammed into thefemale wizard, knocking her to the ground. The fire went on blazing. Lennethleapt for the male wizard, who threw up some sort of flaming shield just as herknives reached him, leaving her burnt once again as she struck. Lenneth growledand danced to the side as he began an attack spell, but from behind her came asudden bolt of arcane energy, knocking him off balance before he could finishcasting. Fire be damned: Lenneth danced in and finished him off, feeling theheat of his shield once more and grimacing at the scent of the ends of her hairburning, along with a bit of the skin at her elbows where her bracers ended,probably – but as the wizard dropped, so too did the ray of fire that hadlatched on to her. She stumbled back to see that the female wizard was caughtin some sort of stasis field: perfect, excellent, the whole point of luringthese people in to attack her was to capture one, right? So she turned back tothe reinforcements – both the enemy’s and her own – that had turned up at theentrance of the alley.

They were fairly evenly matched,though it looked as if the other side had brought mostly casters this time:more wizards, what looked to be a priest wearing a symbol of Magran (great,more fire was all she needed now), and an orlan whose mace glowed with the samepurple soul whip she saw now wreathing Anselm’s sword. But Lenneth’sreinforcements had multiplied to include a handful of Itzlis, Edér, and Xipil’sdog, who was now tearing into the throat of an enemy archer.

This might just work.

She kept to the shadows, takingopportunities to strike where it would do the most damage. She flung Nochtaca’spowdered chilis into the enemy cipher’s eyes, sending his mace off course justas it was about to slam into the back of Violet’s head. She tripped one of thewizards and was about to cut his throat, when all of a sudden the sky above litup like noontide.

Everything seemed to slow.

Everything from the cobblestonesbelow to the laundry lines strung overhead across the alley glittered in arcanelight.

Lenneth glanced to Violet, thinkingthe priest had invoked some sort of Eothasian thing, but Violet looked ascaught off guard as everyone else. Her hands were raised as she recited abattle prayer, but the look of resolution on her face slowly shifted toconfusion when nothing much seemed to happen.

Leneth looked around to see thesame confusion spreading among the enemy casters – and Anselm, Aloth, Lottie,all baffled as their spells failed to take effect.

Lenneth looked up to the sky, notrosy at sunset as it should be but brighter than the dawn. It was…not the skyitself that glowed, she realized. And then the memory struck.

“By all the gods,” she gasped. “TheHaven! Who invokes the Haven?” Visions overtook her: Citlatl, but smaller;temples, half-built; the light, powering up and spreading over the whole city,even the parts not built yet. But not like this. It was too much;it could not sustain such light. She shook her fist at heaven, blinded fromwithin as the battle raged around her.

Until it was Lenneth herself whowas being shaken, and she snapped out of the memory and looked down to seeViolet peering at her in concern.

“It’s all right,” the little priestsoothed. “It’s over. You’re all right, Lenneth.”

Lenneth gasped and crumpled to thestones at her feet, jostling one of the burns on her arm from the wizard’sattacks painfully against the ground as she landed in an awkward crouch. Violetknelt down with her as the rest of her allies gathered around.

For CritRole, I think I’m actually proudest of the very first thing I wrote for the fandom - Cards & Choices, a mini-fic inspired by the soothsayer’s cards drawn for Vex’s question in episode 65. It’s tiny, so I’m just quoting it all here…

I.

Vex’ahlia dreams of the sun, rising over mountains.

At first it is the stylized imagery of the soothsayer’s card, bright with exotic paints more vivid than ever seen in Tal’dorei, or perhaps just more than seen in her waking life. Somehow then the flat peaks spread out and fill out and it is now the Alabaster Sierras over which a brilliant sun rises, a new dawn chasing away the last of shadow as she stands hand in hand, face warmed by Pelor’s rays, and as she turns to say something to her companion she –

Wakes up.

II.

Percival dreams of hands.

He had only a brief glimpse of the cards the soothsayer drew for Vex’ahlia’s final question, but the coppery leaf decorating the lines of fingers interlaced stands out clearly to his slumbering mind. First it is the very hands from the card, clasped in symbolic unity and lined in metallic leaf. When the image shifts – clever fingers manipulating gears; slim hands, nails bitten to the quick, grasping a bowstring – the glint of the leaf remains at the edges, now copper, now silver, now brass, no matter how lifelike and familiar the hands become as the scene shifts, as he weaves his fingers with hers, gunmetal grey edging to glittering gold. He sees his fingers tremble as he slowly raises hers to his lips and –

Wakes up.

For Dragon Age, there are lots of favorite scenes in all my Fenhawke fic but I’m particularly proud whenever I feel I’ve gotten character voices right, especially Varric’s in the fic about Varania after her confrontation with Fenris, Beneficium Accipere Libertatem Est Vendere. Here’s one fun snippet with the dynamic between Varric and Hawke, and Varania, as they gradually befriend her over a game of cards.

“Need I remind you,”said Varania, returning her eyes to her careful stitches, “that I have no moneyand would be foolish to gamble it if I had.”

“Fiddlesticks,” Varric retorted with a wave of his hand,producing a deck of cards from where she could not see and beginning toshuffle. “Who said we’d play for coin? I fancy a game of Tell Me Truly.”

“Oh, Maker, Varric,” Hawke groaned, “not that again!”

“Come on, Hawke, you’re as curious as I am.”

“Yes, but last time - oh, bother, fine then. Go on.” Shesignaled to the waitress for drinks while Varric began dealing the cards.

Varania looked from one to the other of them suspiciously. “Whatis this game?”

“Wicked Grace, actually,” the dwarf said, “but instead ofwagering coin you wager truthfulness. Winner gets to ask the loser anyquestion. The more truth in the pot, the more audacious aquestion the winner can ask and the more honestly you have to answer.”

“That,” Varania said, tossing her head in affront, “isridiculous.”

“Yes!” Hawke shouted, so loud that heads turned. Quieter, shecontinued with a jab of her elbow at the dwarf seated beside her, “See? I’m notthe only one, Varric.”

Varric chuckled. “Sore loser. And I promised that story wouldstay out of the book.”

“What story?” Varania asked, blinking at them innocently.

Hawke exchanged a panicked glance with the dwarf. Varric’s grinwidened as he turned back to Varania. “You want to hear the story, elf, you’regoing to have to win a round.”

And finally, for Tolkien, a snippet from In the Mirror, the tale of a haunted mirror in the Prancing Pony, as told by my lore-master Lennidhren at a long-past episode of Ales and Tales…

“My good Elf,” saidthe innkeeper almost apologetically, forgetting my name as he ever does, “sosorry to bother you, but I wonder if I might ask a favor of you.”

“Gladly,” I replied, rising to greet him.

“I was hoping,” he continued, “you could take a look at thismirror for me. Being a – what is it they call you – a scholar and such, withall your book-learning –”

“A Lore-master,” I provided the term he was hunting for.

“Yes, yes, quite,” said he; “being so good with the lore andsuch, it might be perhaps you’d know something about a piece like this. Fellerjust brought it around with a lot of other little things to sell; not much tospeak of, the most of it, but this one caught my eye. Looks fairly old, don’tit? I’ll wager you’ve seen a thing or two of its sort before, with your loreand all, and maybe you can tell me what sort of a bargain I’ve made.”

I thought better of explaining to Master Butterbur thedistinction – faint though it may be – between a Lore-master and a dealer inantiquities, and simply took the mirror from him. ’Twas old, indeed! Seldomhave I seen bronze-work of that sort; but once in a book I glimpsed a sketch ofthe doors of the king’s house in the city of Gondolin long ago, and the motifworked there was worked in miniature on the border of the mirror in my hands.

So I told the innkeep of my suspicions, and oh, did he preen tothink that a thing from that glorious city should have passed into his keepingover the course of so many years! But it puzzled me. “Gondolin lies now beneaththe wave,” I reminded him. “How came this thing here? I wish you had stayed theman that brought it to you. I should like to ask him where he got it.”

Yet that opportunity was beyond us now – if not quite as farbeyond us as the land of the mirror’s making. Barliman made the rounds of thecommon room, for it behoved him to tell the tale again and again to every oneof his guests, and to show off this marvel of a mirror. Then as the night grewlate and the folk, tired of hearing how Barliman Butterbur paid a pittance foran Elf-king’s own mirror (so grew the tale in the telling), departed for theirown homes or to their hired rooms in the inn, Master Butterbur produced aladder from some back room and climbed up to hang the mirror right above thefireplace.

[runespoor7]

Plum Aeducan Returns (spoilers for Orzammar)

*blows off dust after more than a year the playthrough went languishing*

Let’s start with a classic round of talking to the companions.

I’d forgotten how much Sten loves Plum. He’s the companion with the highest approval, we’re at “kadan” terms of endearment, and everything.

...I’d also forgotten Plum apparently “started a romance” with Zevran when I wasn’t paying attention. (By start a romance I mean she flirted, it’s not supposed to mean anything or go anywhere in her mind. It’s just cheerfully grim semi-professional flirting. gallows flirting.) This Bears Watching TM as I could see her actually going for it and ditching Alistair - and I cannot overstate how much she isn’t supposed to ditch Alistair. (not to mention that Zevran is turning out to be quite the attraction to several other wardens I have planned, and I prefer to have a wide range of LI across varied playthroughs). So that’s gonna be a fun loss of approval as well!

She’s not as close to Morrigan as Iris is, but she finds Morrigan rather charming. She’s witty and full of arcane knowledge that seems very useful. And she’s very kind: Plum certainly wasn’t expecting Morrigan to extend sympathies when Plum told her that her mom died a long time ago.

And then it’s on the way to Orzammar, because I’ve got that and Denerim+Brother Genitivi left, and… Plum’s been thinking about returning to Orzammar, and she’s a bit doubtful about this “sacred ashes” thing. Maybe if she returns in Redcliffe with a dwarven army, she can circumvent the problem of needing Arl Eamon awake and convince Teagan to call the Landsmeet now.

At the Frostback mountains, I realize that Sten doesn’t have his sword yet, if the dialogue with the guy who sold it is any indication, and that I was probably planning on bringing Sten along for this part, because it would be fun. I don’t want to reload, though, so instead Plum navigates the conversation by getting the info she wants and demanding 3 sovereigns for not mentioning him to Sten when she tells Sten where to find his sword. Funding a war is expensive.

Also at this point - just above Orzammar, where she’s returning for the first time - Leliana chooses this moment to have such a relevant banter for a moment I was confused and thought she was speaking to my Aeducan.

> Leliana: There are many great tales of lost kings who return to their lands to reign in glory...

> Alistair: I am not lost. Nor, for that matter, a king. And there is nothing glorious about me.

> Leliana: You are Maric's son; you are the rightful king of Ferelden.

> Alistair: I am the son of a star-struck maid and an indiscreet man who just happened to be king. Look, I can't be king. Some days I have trouble figuring out which boot goes on which foot.

> Leliana: Complete fools are made leaders of kingdoms all the time, and you're not a complete fool.

> Alistair: What an utter relief.

> Leliana: And don't worry about the boots. Kings don't need to dress themselves. that's what advisors are for, isn't it?

> Alistair: And star-struck maids, apparently.

that was amazingly on point, it literally couldn’t drop at a more pertinent moment.

It also reinforced my determination for Plum’s ending, so that’s great. Leliana, you’re a pal.

Upon arriving at the entrance of Orzammar, she learns confirmation that Bhelen didn’t manage to get himself crowned king, which falls somewhere between baffling and exasperating. Stone, he’d managed to get rid of both Trian and her! What more did he need? She could stomach her brother sending her in exile for the crown - exile hurt, but the Blight is a distraction (a vocation?) - but not for nothing!

then Loghain’s messenger jumps on the news that she ‘killed her elder brother’ and starts calling her “kinslayer”, to which Plum tells him that if he does so again she’ll kill him, and the guard thinks she means him. Gah.

at the end she does get in, but she kills the messenger just like she’d been itching to since the first time he called her “kinslayer”. Usually she’s not half so kill-happy, but he deserved it. Surfacers should know better than to look down upon Orzammar, even an exile such as her.

Fun fact: the Captain of the Guard who tends to make a good impression on outsider wardens (at least he’s unimpressed with both candidates and just wants things to function) when you enter is super unpleasant when you’re an Aeducan!

Plum thought she knew what exile meant; she didn’t think that she’d never feel more of an exile back in Orzammar. People call her Warden when they don’t insult her. (This is all because Bhelen botched the job enough that he couldn’t land the crown, she’s disappointed, after he set her up there was no doubt in her mind he was an excellent politician.)

Meeting Nerav Helmi is enlightening! First, Nerav seems to believe Plum wants Harrowmont to have the throne - but then, Nerav supports Harrowmont, and Nerav and Plum were on good terms. Second, Bhelen lost the support of part of the Assembly - his supporters now only amount to exactly half the deshyrs. Nerav does confirm that House Aeducan stands behind Bhelen, though. Once they wanted Plum on the throne, but they wouldn’t consider “taking it back” to vote her queen. That’s actually a good thing: Plum’s got a Blight to fight, and fighting darkspawn was always her stronger focus. House Aeducan standing united behind Bhelen is good. Third, some believe Bhelen killed the king; of course, given the circumstances, Harrowmont might have done it. But more importantly, Harrowmont isn’t brave enough to accuse Bhelen himself. So it gives off the impression that the common is fighting Harrowmont’s battles for him despite Harrowmont pretending it’s fine. Not that surprising, but still a terrible look. Oh, and apparently Plum’s father named Harrowmont his heir based on suspicions that Bhelen was behind Trian’s death and Plum’s exile. (this wasn’t the right thing to do, father. smashing down our house doesn’t fix anything. you do not lay down before a mouse because your cat scratched you. It doesn’t fix Plum’s exile, and it weakens House Aeducan, so Plum isn’t getting any less bitter about her father. Old age turning him into a soft old fool.)

ALSO I MET THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTER OF ORZAMMAR, that is to say, Dagna. (so young! baby Dagna of Origins aaaaah) ...who wants to go to the surface. to the Circle. To which Plum has major objections, because 1)you want to leave Orzammar, 2)funny story about the Circle… so I was already anticipating having to turn down Dagna (and breaking my own heart in the process), but then Dagna: “It would be a valuable exchange. Orzammar would learn of one of the great natural forces of the surface.”

Plum, whose failure to save Irving and have magic at her disposal to fight the Blight hounds her to this day: “......KEEP TALKING.”

Harrowmont supporters are hilarious. “Lord Harrowmont is such a good, caring man. He’ll make a great king.” Plum: Commoners, I swear. You can see they have no idea how cutthroat politics are.

It’s less hilarious when Plum comes across Lord Helmi, who has incredibly forward, equalitarian views on castes, and reluctantly supports Harrowmont on the grounds that he “looks a bit more forgiving,” whereas Bhelen looks like “nothing matters to him more than winning.” :( Bhelen used to be so overlooked and popular, what happened there. Also Plum’s willing to vouch for Bhelen having progressive sympathies.

Moving on, blablah, Vartag Gavorn is an ass, also Plum really doesn’t like the way he talks to her, but that’s still better than Harrowmont’s captain being all “yea Lord Harrowmont always was very fond of you because he’s too good for this world, too pure, but I know you Aeducans, you ain’t meeting him without proving you mean it”, which. Okay sure Plum is working with Bhelen and would “betray” Harrowmont without thinking twice about it (look, Harrowmont has no business running for king, also he’s too soft for it. also his politics are backwards, that hasn’t changed since the last time Plum rolled her eyes real hard when her father nodded at Harrowmont’s advice), but Bhelen framed her, how does it make sense that she’d work with him now???? (Harrowmont captain: *knows Aeducans*)

At least meeting Harrowmont’s captain told her that Bhelen is also interfering with Harrowmont’s champions at the Proving. Well that’s good, she was starting to be concerned he was being passive about the whole affair.

SO ratting Lord Harrowmont’s “””proposal””” to two noble Houses it is, then. Quotation marks because Plum swinged by the Shaperate to check on things, and learned that Bhelen had the papers altered. Clever. Here’s to hoping the Shaperate knows better than to get involved in politics, Plum didn’t say who gave her the papers, of course, but it’s already common gossip she’s working with Bhelen. Eh, win some, lose some. Also worth noting: warrior caste girl hoping to be proved a noble. If Plum lands that, it’ll be one more voice cast correctly in the Assembly…

Lord Helmi acts a bit disgusted with the reveal, but mostly disgusted that he’s going to have to work, instead of lounding around Tapsters doing nothing but drink ale and act the Dashing Disreputable Noble Son. Plum tactically keeps her eyeroll to herself. He leaves the conversation muttering that he needs to take a second look at Bhelen, if he’s worth Plum’s loyalty, which isn’t exactly where she was going when she told him she just wanted to keep the throne in Aeducan House, but that’s the same result.

Other things Plum did: flatly walk out of Brother Burkel’s speech about opening a Chantry. Send Carta thugs running. Witness with pleasure Leliana’s awestruck delight at the beauty of Orzammar.

Kiss Alistair in full view of the ancestors and the Stone (and oh, her heart gets softer when he looks at her like so)

start into the Deep Roads back to Aeducan Thaig to get Lord Dace to renege on Harrowmont’s false promises, fond fond trauma memories.

Things she didn’t do: protest her innocence at any point. It would be undignified. And it’s better if she’s the clear murderer in people’s minds. Less chances for Harrowmont to also get Bhelen discredited. She’d prefer not to be thought one, but if it’s the sacrifice required of her to get this city back on track, then by the Stone she’ll shoulder it.