#and i could perform magic rituals to make safe areas for us where we could rest

[eldritchlittleblackdragon]

Me: *suddenly feeling a resurgence of enthusiasm for Devil May Cry because someone I follow has been posting about it recently*

My Brain: What if we brought back our Devil May Cry Self-Insert OC

Me: Wait what-

[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Four

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and for all of your support! Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

WARNINGS: Nothing graphic, just mentions of sex, murder and dismemberment.

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes

Much of your time left in the afterlife was spent the same, with you wrapped around Dabi or the both of you lounging in his bed.

The fear of knowing you would likely never see him again had mixed with the longing for both the pleasure and the feelings that he drew from you.

You felt so strongly for him, it was new and unfamiliar, but you welcomed it. You had never felt so warm, so safe and peaceful, as you did in his arms. You feared you were addicted to it, already you wondered how you could go the rest of your life without him. The thought had crossed your mind many times that you should stop and push him away, that you were getting yourself tangled too deeply into a mess, but those thoughts were fleeting, weak in comparison to the desire you felt. It was beyond something physical, you craved him in his entirety.

You wondered if you added your name to the walls of his tomb, would it bring you back to him when you died? Perhaps you would go the rest of your life without him, but then could be together again in the end. A bittersweet idea.

Your thoughts were cut short as Dabi looked over, lifting himself slightly from his relaxed position in bed.

“Is there anything else you want to know before I ask you for the second favor?”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah, actually, why is your tomb so different? I’ve never heard of any set up like how yours is.”

“The tomb where you first entered was by my design, what I requested to have done. I had thought the burial chamber was a standard one. It was only after I died that I realized they had made a second tomb. I don’t know who crafted it, someone who must have held a grudge against me.” He answered.

“What was the point of it?” You asked.

“To trap me. Normally, you can pass through the false door of your tomb. When someone comes, it allows you to enter inside and visit with them, but because they made the second tomb, I can’t leave from it. That’s what all of those marking are along the cut outs in the wall. Seals, to bind me to the room.” He said.

“It’s also a way to spite me. The false door was carved in my image, with my scars. If not for that, I’d have looked as I did before.” His tone was growing bitter.

“What if we break the seals?” You asked hopefully.

“We could try, but I doubt it would work. Those seals were placed with strong magic. They have some type of enchantment on them. Whatever spell they used, I’m sure it won’t be easy to break.” Dabi said with a sigh.

You frowned at that. You wanted so badly to help him.

“Don’t worry, princess. When you do my second favor, it’ll be better than breaking the seals.” He grinned.

You rolled into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm relaxed across his stomach and chest.

“What do I need to do?” You asked, turning your head to place a kiss on his skin.

“After i was killed, I was mummified by my men. Before I could be buried properly, someone took my remains to a witch, probably the same one who carved the seals in the tomb.” He started and you looked up at him, listening intently.

“You’re familiar with the story of Osiris and Isis?” He asked and you nodded.

__________________________________________

Osiris’s Myth:

The god Osiris was brought to Egypt to be king. He was a good ruler who was both loved and respected by all. His brother, Seth, was jealous of his power and made a plan to kill his brother and take over the throne.

Seth snuck into Osiris and Isis’s bedroom one night and measured Osiris while he slept. He had a chest crafted with his brothers measurements.

Seth then threw a party, with Osiris as the guest of honor. They played a game at Seth’s request, whoever could fit into the chest perfectly would get to keep it.

After Seth’s friends all took their turns, they finally convinced Osiris to try. He climbed in and was a perfect fit. The lid was slammed shut and sealed, and then the chest was dumped into the Nile river, knowing Osiris wouldn’t be able to survive.

Isis heard of her husbands death and rushed to find the chest. Finally, after a few days of searching, she found it and pulled Osiris from it. She hid his body in the tall river grass, as she didn’t want Seth to find the body before she could do the proper rituals so that Osiris could pass on to the afterlife.

Late that night, Seth returned to the river. He found Osiris’s body in the grass and was furious. He cut Osiris into fourteen pieces and hurled them all across Egypt to make sure they were never found.

The next morning, Isis, along with her sister and friends, returned to the river to perform the rituals only to find her husband’s body gone.

Isis transformed into a huge bird and flew over Egypt, using her sharp eyesight to find all of his body parts.

With the help of Nepthys, Thoth and Anubis, she was able to perform a miracle. They sewed all of the pieces together and wrapped Osiris head to toe in strips of linen, creating a mummy.

On the night of the full moon, Isis used powerful magic to bring him back to life. He told her he couldn’t stay long and that he needed to travel to the world of the dead, where he would become King of the Afterlife.

Osiris told Isis not to worry as she was pregnant and would have a son who would get revenge on Seth.

Their son Horus was born, and kept hidden away from his uncle until he came of age. Once Horus did, he and Seth fought. Horus won and took the throne, while Seth was banished from Egypt forever.

__________________________________________

“When I died, the rituals were completed so I was able to pass onto the Afterlife, but my body was cut up and hidden, the same as they did to Osiris. I need you to be my Isis.” Dabi said, his tone almost desperate as he looked deep into your eyes.

“You need me to find all of your body parts? What do I do with them?” You asked perplexed.

“Bring them to me, leave them here in the tomb.” His warm breath fanned your face.

“How will I find them?” You asked.

“I will help guide you. I know I was cut into six pieces, and I know the general locations. Beyond that, you must find them yourself.” He told you, and you nodded hesitantly.

“What if I can’t find them?” You whispered.

“That’s not an option, doll.” He said, stroking your hair.

You sighed and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I’ll do my best. But, when you have them, what will happen?”

“That’s a surprise, but trust me, it’s a good one.” Dabi said with confidence. He sounded happy, maybe even a bit smug. You didn’t question him, though. You were far too interested to see what would come of it. He was a man of many mysteries, after all. He had shown you things you never thought possible, and they had all turned out well for you. You really did trust him.

At the end of the day, Dabi took you back to the tomb. What you wore when you first arrived had been washed in the river a few days prior, and already you were missing the clothing he had given you that mirrored his own.

You both stepped through the portal and while nothing had visibly changed, you knew you were back in the world of the living. Dabi had told you the general locations for where to find his body and you had written them down, the note folded in your pocket.

You turned to face him, sadness was radiating from you. He chuckled and pulled you close to him, his lips meeting yours.

“Go home and rest. You can start the search tomorrow and I’ll be here waiting for you to return.” He said against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, trying to savor the feeling of him in case things didn’t go as planned. You were worried that once you left the tomb, he would be gone, out of your grasp for good. In the two weeks you had spent with him, you feared that you may have fallen in love.

Reluctantly, you parted from him and said goodbye, sparing him a final glance as you made your way up and out of the tomb.

__________________________________________

The next morning, you woke early and went to make your case to get an extension on the project. You told them of the second tomb, of the foreign inscriptions inside and the strange contrast between both chambers. You told them how it was unlike anything you had ever seen.

They agreed, their interest peaked, and you were graced with funding to last another season. They said you should receive it in about a week, and you thanked them and left.

You met with your team, explaining what you had found and the exciting news of the project continuing. They all cheered loudly as you told them the work would resume in a weeks time. You gave them all a share of the last of the funding and told them to take the week to spend with their families.

They thanked you and left to celebrate. You kept the last of the funding, and set out to complete your favor.

You went to a stand you used rather frequently and rented a dune buggy to take you across the desert. You loaded your tools in the back and started on your way. You had checked the note often, although it felt like more of a riddle than a guide. You spent hours in the hot sun searching, and though your skin was covered, the heat was unforgiving.

The first three locations were easier to find than you thought they would be. Two of them were caves, half buried with sand, but still noticeable enough for you to spot from a distance. Both of them had been rather deep, one was built into a large area of rocks and sand while the other was much closer to the city, half hidden in a thicket of shrubs and trees. In both caves, you had found the limbs in the back, though it had taken a great deal of time moving rocks and looking for things out of place.

The other was hidden in the crevice of a cliff side. You had managed to climb up, and thankfully keep your footing, to dig it out from where it was hidden between the sharp rocks. The passage it was slipped in was so narrow that only your arm would fit inside. It had taken you six trips up the cliff to find it as you searched for rocks in a “triangular layout” as Dabi had described. It all had honestly looked the same to you, but you were just glad you managed to find it. With it, you found a small bag, and inside were a few small bones and gems. You furrowed your brow, but took it with you nonetheless.

You circled back and left them in Dabi’s tomb, unaware of the evil grin that warped his face in the chamber below.

The first three pieces had taken you two days total to find. The last three took you until the end of the week, but finally you had collected them all. His note had sent you on a wild goose chase around the desert, digging though old dried out river beds and dunes, and one had been buried under a tree that grew near the Nile river. You had spent a day and a half inspecting every tree for carvings that matched the ones in Dabi’s tomb.

You were so tired, feeling like you could collapse, and your muscles burned from all of the labor you’d endured. You were glad to help Dabi and eager to see the surprise, but at this point you really were just glad you were done. In the frustration of your scavenger hunt you had briefly debated giving up.

You dropped off the last of the limbs and then went to return the vehicle. Once you were done, you came back to the tomb and went inside, carefully taking the body parts down to Dabi.

You found him inside, waiting for you as you brought down the last piece.

You had laid them out properly, and as you stood, Dabi pulled you to him, kissing you with a bruising pressure. You moaned into his mouth and he pulled back, his eyes soft as they trailed over your face.

“You asked me before if I regretted never marrying.” He stated, and you nodded.

“I don’t. Fate brought you to me, I was meant to have you.” He said while brushing his lips against yours, his vibrant eyes glowing in the dim light.

You pushed forward, pulling him into another kiss, his words repeating in your mind as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You thought it was rather morbid, the idea of sex while his corpse was so close, but he took you there in the tomb and you didn’t protest. You were smitten with him, hopelessly in love with a ghost. But the way he felt on your skin, inside of you, it was perfect, and you couldn’t blame yourself. You knew in the back of your mind that even if you could do it all over, you would still find yourself back at this very point.

When you were finished, you dressed quickly, trying to compose yourself. Dabi told you to go up and wait for the surprise that he had promised. You did as he asked, climbing up to go sit by the entrance of the tomb, staring at the carvings on the walls, waiting for him to call you back down.

Eventually, sleep took you as you rested against the door that had been put up to secure the tomb.

You awoke to the feeling of a hand grabbing your thighs and parting them quickly, and a heat warming the front of your body. Your eyes opened to see Dabi kneeling in front of you, a wide grin on his face.

“How are you here?” You gasped excitedly, your hands running along his body as if to make sure he was really there.

“It worked! I’m alive!” He laughed, cupping your cheeks and kissing you. It felt the same as his spirit’s touch, and yet it wasn’t. It was different in a way you couldn’t quite place, but it felt just as good. Perhaps even better. Your hand buried itself in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Careful, princess. I have half a mind to take you again right here.”

You sighed, a faint “please” leaving your lips. When the haze cleared from your mind, you trailed your fingers gently down his face.

“You’re really alive?” You wondered aloud, and he nodded.

“How?”

“I have...an agreement with the Gods. That’s all I can say.” He told you, then sat back, looking you over before adding, “I have another favor to ask you.”

“So needy.” You whispered with a grin and he smiled.

“I need clothes...from your time.” He said.

It was only then that you realized his state of undress. You supposed you didn’t notice at first because the sight of him naked had become a regular occurrence to you in your time spent with him.

You nodded, telling him to wait here and that you would find him something. You peeled yourself away from him and left the tomb, heading to the city to find a clothing shop.

You browsed around, searching for things that looked like they could fit his thinner frame as you had no idea what size he wore. You found a couple pairs of sweat pants, some sandals, a few tee shirts, a hoodie and a jacket.

Figuring it would be good enough, you paid and left quickly, hurrying back with your purchases and found Dabi right where you had left him. He thanked you while quickly putting on the clothes, then left the tomb with you, hand in hand.

You led him from the desert to the edge of the city, pointing things out along the empty streets as you went. His eyes were wide in amazement as he tried to absorb everything.

You both boarded a bus that would take you to the area where you were living. Dabi’s eyes lit up in wonder at the world around him, but he kept his questions to himself. This world was unfamiliar to him, and he would rather ask you his building list of questions in private where it was safe. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

When the bus stopped, you both exited and headed a few blocks over to the place you called home. Once the door was shut behind you, Dabi took off around the small apartment investigating everything, and you laughed, his behavior reminding you of a child.

He asked many questions, and you found it extremely cute when he was in awe of the refrigerator.

Your apartment was in an extended stay hotel. It was cheaper than the actual apartments in the area, and you didn’t have to pay for things like internet or utilities. Plus there was no lease, you just paid month to month.

It was nice enough there, and as you weren’t home much, it was really all you needed. It wasn’t in the most beautiful condition, and the area it was located in was questionable, but you figured it kept the cost low so it was a compromise you were willing to make.

You suggested a bath to Dabi, who happily obliged. You ran the shower first to rinse yourself off. Dabi tried to get in with you, but you stopped him, afraid of the water hurting where his scars and staples met skin.

Once you finished rinsing, you turned the shower head toward the wall and beckoned Dabi in. You got a cloth damp and carefully rinsed him with it. He watched you, an unknown feeling swelling in his chest.

Dabi truly was fond of you, and he was honest when he said you were meant for him. You were his. Watching you rinse him so delicately, the kindness you offered, only solidified his feelings. Love was not something he had received, and if he was being truthful, he wasn’t even sure if it was a concept he could ever fully grasp, but he knew what he wanted.

He wanted you. Marriage hadn’t been a priority before, but things were different now that he had a second chance at life. He knew you would be his wife. His thoughts continued as you washed him. He imagined your stomach swollen, heavy with his child, and he felt his arousal grow and almost groaned at the thought.

You told Dabi to stand back for a moment, and you took the shower head down and rinsed the bottom of the tub to clear away the excess dirt that had gathered there. Then you started the bath, Dabi sitting against the back of the tub and you scooting between his spread legs, relaxing against his chest.

Dabi had plans, things he needed to do now that he was back in the world of the living, but he could almost forget them with you here pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of peace that you gave to him.

[whysperingwoods]

How to Fix a Spiritual F*ck-Up

We’ve all been there. Initiating contact with a spirit who shouldn’t have been contacted, firing off a poorly timed spell, letting our emotions get the best of us mid-hex… knowing how to fix a spiritual f*ck-up is an important part of witchcraft.

My journey into the occult started out with old grimoires I downloaded from online, trying to decipher the pages and do any working I could get my hands on. I had neither the knowledge nor the background to take on this type of stuff, and it led me down some scary paths. Not only was I messing with magic that was way above my capabilities, I didn’t have even the basics of warding, cleansing, or protection. So, believe me when I say whatever mistake you’ve made, I’ve probably made, too. While there were some harrowing moments, it did have its benefits in that it forced me to learn quickly.

Step #1: Don’t Panic

I vividly remember how scared I felt when I made my first big mistake. Suddenly, I was met with the realization that I had messed with something way bigger than me, on a plane that I had limited access to, and very little knowledge of. I won’t sugar coat the experience. It was terrifying. I still get goose-bumps when I think back on it, and it’s been over a decade. At the time, I thought it was something I could not go back on, something unfixable. Now I know better, and hopefully you can learn a bit from my mistakes.

Know first and foremost that everything can be fixed, and you can fix a spiritual f*ck-up. There is no mortal mistake that doesn’t have a mortal answer. This isn’t to say that all answers will be easy, or that they will all be simple. Far from it, but chances are the mistake you think you made is not as bad as it seems to be.

Take a deep breath, and steady your emotions. Remaining calm and keeping a level head will help you move through the next steps, but also prevent feeding more energy into the situation. The witchcraft catch-22 is that you want to treat the issue seriously, while also not letting it overwhelm you.

Step #2: Identifying a Spiritual F*ck-Up

Before taking any steps, you need to identify what the mistake was, if one has been made. Blindly cleansing and warding can do a limited amount of good, but a targeted fix will always be more effective. If you have a spill in the kitchen, spritzing some perfume around your house won’t help much.

Trace back your steps.

Have you done any workings lately that may have backfired? Can you trace your issues back to one specific spell? Did things start to go sour after an interaction with one specific entity, or person? How did it play out?

The key to fix a spiritual f*ck-up is to get as specific as possible. The more you can flesh out about the situation, the better. Times like these is where having a grimoire comes in handy. If you are the type of witch who fastidiously records all their workings, this step will be easy. If you aren’t, this may be a lesson to you.

Step #3: Banish and Cleanse

Based on what you identified as the root issue, take the appropriate action:

If a spell you performed backfired, perform an undoing. Every spell you do should have a counter-spell of some kind. If the counter is not explicit in the spell, this may be a difficult step. Always include a counter-spell in your workings! This is a crucial part of spellcraft, and one that is often neglected. Some spells are easier than others. Jars and sachets, for example, can be easily destroyed and disposed of.

If your troubles are related to an entity, a banishing is the way to go. This can vary in complexity depending on the type of entity, and I suggest you do your research based on the specific type of entity you are dealing with. A general banishing ritual can work if you’re not sure, and these are generally safe workings to do.

If the problems are linked to a person, they should be dealt with similarly. Stop engaging with them and perform a cord-cutting ritual to remove their influence from your life.

One of my favourite cleanses that will fix many f*ck-ups is a simple basil and olive oil cleanse. Plain old kitchen basil will work just fine for this spell, simply let it infuse in the oil over night. Rub it over your body and pour what is left into a bath and cleanse yourself. This will get rid of any lingering negative energy.

Step #4: Check If It Worked

It’s better to sort this out sooner rather than later. Most of the time when we have to fix a spiritual f*ck-up, it will target a specific area of our life. Finances, for example, or communication. Try to perform a small and simple task in the problem area and see if it is successful. It is better for us to have the issue with a small controlled test than in a serious circumstance.

Example:

I did a working to help improve my communication with others, and it backfired. Now every time I try to talk to someone, we have a misunderstanding. Once I have identified my working as the issue, I perform an undoing. To test it out, I initiate a communication with someone that I’m not particularly invested in. No misunderstandings: we’re good! My undoing worked.

You will find that most of the time, your resolution works. You can move on with your life and do a new working, if you so choose. If your resolution did not work, wait a few days and then give it another try. Sometimes we just need some rest, some time to recoup. If you feel that you’re really dealing with something way out of your abilities, don’t be afraid to reach out to your fellow witches and ask for help.

Step #5: Prevent!

The best solution to fix a spiritual f*ck-up will always be to never let it happen in the first place. Every mistake we make is a learning opportunity, so hopefully this experience helped you gain some insight into the type of forces you are working with, and helps you to exercise more caution in the future. If you’re anything like me, it might take you a few hard lessons to make it sink in. If that’s the case, this guide will be here waiting for when you need it 😛

Images by:

Tonik on Unsplash

Lubomyr Myronyuk on Unsplash

Ricky Turner on Unsplash

Gabe Hobbs on Unsplash

Elijah O’Donnell on Unsplash

[thedinanshiral]

On Solas

Decided to try to organise some of my thoughts on Solas, so here it goes.

What we first know of Solas is that he’s an elf and a mage, the elven hobo apostate. From the game we can learn he’s an electromancer (in autolevel he prioritises the Storm tree abilities), and later on a Rift Mage, one could assume because he’s the “Fade expert” but further on we learn is because he’s the one responsible for the creation of the Veil. 

There have always been elements linking him to Fen’Harel and then to the Fade and the Veil, as seen in the Fade Wall Shield dropped by Gaxkang (one of the Forbiden Ones) in DAO, a shield with a name that basically means Veil (what’s the wall in the Fade?) and has a wolf head design on it, design that somewhat resembles the Mask of Fen’Harel as seen in DA:Redemption. That Mask of Fen’Harel can be used to open portals on the Veil and into the Fade, and is activated in Redemption through an ritual that includes blood ( in the miniseries it turns out to be an elven girl’s blood).

Considering his stance on blood magic (remarkably similar to Merrill’s, by the way), I think it’s safe to say he has used it before. That’s possibly why the Mask of Fen’Harel is activated with blood, and that’s why in order to break the Veil open time and time again we’ve seen big bloody sacrifices must be made. First record of this is the Magisters Sidereal using blood magic and almost all lyrium available in Tevinter to rip the Veil open (lyrium also being blood, and elven slaves prefered for sacrifice for their special elven blood, this means a lot of blood with magical properties of one or other nature is required to break through the Veil), second instance of some form of blood offering meant to grant one physical access to the Fade is when Corypheus kills Divine Justinia during a ritual we only saw a glimpse of and was never explained. Thridly, we have repeated mentions of how spirits feel drawn to the Veil there where there’s been bloodshed, particularly battlefields. So it’s safe to assume blood in enough quantities weakens the Veil enough to make an opening.

The red lyrium idol is his. In Tevinter Nights he claimed it so, and i’ve already discussed this idol at length in a previous post. In TN however we get other bits of information, like how the idol seems to have a self-regenerating property (when it’s found intact inside Meredith’s red lyrium statue after she had used the idol to craft a sword), and most curiously, how it seems to be hollow and have some liquid inside that makes it feel like when one holds a bottle. We also learn in the Mortalitasi account that the idol may have a hidden blade and become a ritual knife. Perhaps the value of the red lyrium idol is not in it being made of red lyrium, but on its content. Say the idol we see is a hilt, it can produce a blade, and it’s filled with ...blood. I think it’s possible its content is blood.

As per Cole’s comment in Trespasser, “the wolf chewed its leg off to escape the trap”, that sounds more like he sacrificed a big part of himself, most likely his power, that he may have concentrated and stored in the very same idol used for the Veil ritual. It would also explain why the one who created the Veil would wake up from Uthenera so weakened. There’s his foci as well, but I think that one mainly held memories, and in those memories there was knowledge that could grant great power (rather than containing actual power). Why he’d be after the foci first and not the idol could be because the foci was the safest option, or the one he already knew the location of. Clearly, the Anchor was plan A, and the red lyrium idol seems to be plan B.

Then I suspect Solas has what I call Word power, a form of influence or manifestation magic. I’ve found two distinct instances where Solas seems to use this, the first being when at Skyhold he tells the Inquisitor to “wake up”, revealing their conversation was taking place in a dream in the Fade. Upon realising “this isn’t real” the Inquisitor doesn’t wake up, they only do it after Solas gives the command. The other instance is after Solas leaves the Inquisition, when the Inquisitor can talk to Cole and he speaks Solas’ words, a message Solas delivers through him.

Solas is also a Dreamer, possibly why the Inquisitor walks in on him while dreaming at Skyhold, and surely how Solas can manage to kill people in their sleep in TN (granted, those were dwarves and dwarves allegedly don’t dream, but as far as we know they may still have a presence in the Fade while asleep, just have no memory of dreaming, no awareness of it). In fact the first appearance of Solas in DA media was in TME where he meets Felassan in the Fade, while he dreams to contact him. It’s widely believed that Solas killed Felassan then and there.

Then he is clearly an artist. Seems murals are his primary medium for storytelling. He adorns the rotunda in Skyhold with murals depicting the story of the Inquisition as it unfolds. Trespasser has several more murals telling stories of what happened, and I think it’s safe to assume there’s more than one self-portrait in them. 

He’s a shapeshifter, as pointed by some codex entries that imply the Evanuris took dragon forms on ocassion, and in the Evanuris propaganda against him found at the Vir Dirthara. He is twice the shapeshifter or perhaps not a good one, depends on your perspective, if we consider his chosen form, the Dread wolf, is described as either a giant wolf with dragon-like scales, or a dragon of some lupine features.  Is the Dread Wolf a wolf that looks like a dragon, or a dragon that looks like a wolf? I found it kind of funny how in TN his appearance description includes spirits forming as wings of fire to fly him around. Personally I don’t consider Regret’s description here because that was a particular demon feeding off what he had left behind, not his actual image.

He is, in a way, the Maker. Of present Thedas, shaped by his creating the Veil. The implications of this interpretation brings forth many more questions i’m not currently dwelling on.Let’s ignore this for now and possibly forever, it gives me a headache.

He was a warrior, as expressed in his banter with Blackwall. Considering how in post-Arlathan wolves were guardians to the Emerald Knights, and how in Trespasser’s Deep Roads his statues are described as guarding alongside Mythal’s, it’s possible he was once one of Mythal’s soldiers, perhaps part of her personal Guard, becoming a friend -or more  - favoured enough, maybe rewarded for his service reaching to a point where he became almost an equal? From this analysis it could be that Solas ascended to Evanuris status after his contribution in the war against the Titans. He was rebel fighter too, as evidenced in his banter with Sera, he possibly started as part of a large army but then started a revolution that operated in much smaller cells.

He was Skyhold’s former master. That fortress belonged to him. The very name of the place, elven in origin, hints at it being the location from where the Veil was placed, or at the very least where the ritual for it was initially performed. I suspect he also had a significant presence in the Exalted Plains, something about it reminds me of the landscape from the Elven Ruins at Trespasser, also because it’s the one and only place so far where we see a shrine dedicated to Fen’Harel. In an area with an electric dragon ( yet another hint at his electromancy). More importantly, while the shrine’s codex leads us to believe the reason why elves would make the Dread Wolf any offering would be to appease him and be spared his evil doings, this shrine depicts a black wolf figure and a white wolf figure, which are reminiscing of Solas’ tarot cards, The Tower (big menaching shadow wolf figure) and The Hierophant ( fluffy white companion wolf figure). Whatever the reasons for the Dalish to erect a shrine to the Dread Wolf it seems somehow in some way a certain knowledge of his dual nature is not entirely lost. Also, there’s the gigantic wolf statue atop a mountain in the distance, biggest one i’ve seen so far:

Which brings me to the main point of this ramble, his latest symbol depincting three wolf heads on a brooch he’s wearing in DA4 concept art.

It may be symbolic in a couple of ways. First in regards to his identity as in the elf, the creator (Evanuris), and the betrayer. Secondly as in the man, the spirit, and the “god”. As well as the three different realms he is connected to: the physical world, the Void, and the Fade. Personally I doubt this is the strange symbol used by some self-identifying Agents of Fen’Harel in TN, I think what they may be wearing could be an elven rune or ancient symbol we haven’t seen yet, hence why it was described as “strange”. I mean, if I see three wolf heads, I say it’s three wolf heads. Interestingly enough, he still wears the wolf jawbone (in this new concept art, it has some new circular designs on it as well, if you zoom in on a better quality picture) and i’m forever curious why he even has that in the first place. Did he just pick it up to use as a subtle hint of his true identity, or did the bone belong to a wolf he cared about? Why has its design changed? 

So far this is what i have in mind about him. 

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

Storm Front || Season 1 Finale Chatzy

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Dark Score Lake (opposite of Undertow) PARTIES: @exorciseyourspirit @bountybossier @cryxmercy @bemyfriendplease SUMMARY: Squidward meets his makers

“Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.”

― John Milton, Paradise Lost

Mercy wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting in the agreed upon spot when the others finally showed up. It was dark, the thick trees filtering out most of the moonlight, and almost eerily quiet. As if the forest around Dark Score Lake - which lay further into the forest - was holding its breath. The air was muggy and thick, and smelled stale… like old, rotting things long-molded beneath the damp earth.  It smelled like a crypt.

The irony was not lost on Mercy.

Sitting on the hood of the old Jeep she’d rolled out of storage - much quieter than her bike, and with more room for transporting the other things she’d do quickly pulled out of the unit - she methodically worried the delicate silver chain around her neck. The two rings that were usually there were absent, safely secured in a thick manila envelope in the glove compartment of the Jeep, along with a short letter written in Mercy’s hand. The name ‘Prof. Arthur Drake’ was written on the envelope. She’d tried to call him several times on her drive over, not wanting to do this without telling him, but had ended up having to leave a message.

So the envelope and it’s contents were just a few simple measures to make sure certain things wouldn’t be left unsaid. Just in case.

Because while the odds were in Mercy’s favor to walk out of this alive and mostly unscathed, she was very aware that she wasn’t completely infallible. Especially since it had been over a century since she’d been a part of taking on something quite as large and dangerous as what this… thing had turned out to be. Some tentacled, demon-fucking, pseudo-deity with a massive cult of brain-washed followers that had already killed in the name of their ‘god.’

But killing was easy. Mercy was more than ready to find out how many of them were willing to die for this ‘god’ of theirs.

She didn’t know all the details - it had all been put together so quickly - but she did know they only had one real shot at this. Even now, there were others working towards the same goal, so their window of opportunity wasn’t a big one. The Fury looked up as footsteps approached, her normally riotous hair braided back out of her face, and a band of black ash wiped across her eyes. She gave the unfamiliar face a crooked smirk and sat up, tucking the chain beneath the protective vest she wore across her chest. “Hey there stranger. You lookin’ for the same puny demon squid-god as me?”

Patience was often a virtue, but Rebecca moved through the world today with a heavy sort of impatience that weighed on her soul. There was little time. Theo had not made it, Theo did not know what she was about to go do. No one did. No one, except the ones who she’d asked to meet her there. Nicodemus had agreed, and had said there would be another waiting for them as well, to help, because this task could not be done by one man alone. And there others, in farther spots, helping as well. Whatever awaited them at this lake, it wasn’t going to be easy. And that’s, as she looked in the mirror, her eyes glowed a moment. No going back on our deal now.

When she reached the lake, the stench was that of death. She knew it was because of the rotted fish and dead foliage, but the foreboding omen still sat in the air like a warning sign. When she approached, she found a woman, tall, slender, pale skin and pale blue eyes, greeting her. Nicodemus was not here yet, but she supposed he’d arrive soon. This was one event no one wanted to be late to. “I only believe in one Higher Power, and a demon squid is surely not it,” she said with a whip to her tongue. This ritual was hers to perform, which meant she was in charge here, and she wanted her voice to convey that in one go. Even as she gave the other woman a smile in greeting.

Anxious energy ran through Nicodemus. He had made a time of avoiding the lake like nothing else but that time was gone. Drowned. The hunter supposed he would have to return to it one day and with the intent to kill burning in him, it was a better day than any. Maybe it was the pilates that had Rebecca consider him for help. Regardless, he answered quickly and scribbled a short note to Skylar. Given that it was a big fuck off squid they were going to be tangling with, they might need a harpoon. And he knew one person that was ready and willing with one.

The hunter rolled his neck as he walked away from his truck. A death smell hung over the lake and he waded through it as he approached the gathered two. Guns, knives, ammo. He brought it all. If any of them died, it wasn’t going to be because they didn’t burn through every possibility of killing the fucker. He grunted a greeting as his eyes looked to the dark water. A cold, slimy feeling crawled along his spine.

“Guess it’s a fine evenin’ for squid killin’,” he muttered as he rested his lever-action against his shoulder. He looked between the two before he nodded to Rebecca. “What’d you need us to do?”

“I can agree with that,” Mercy said. Because whatever the hell this thing really was, it wasn’t a god. Mercy believed in the old gods, and not in any singular creator. She had seen them with her own eyes. But that was irrelevant. This woman - this exorcist - believed. And it was her power that would get rid of the entity that inhabited the creature she and the hunter were there to kill. Speaking of… Mercy looked over at the man as he approached. She gave a tip of her chin in greeting, noting the weapon he held with practised familiarity. It settled a few of Mercy’s nerves to know that there were no amateurs here tonight. Her own arsenal of weapons - including a wicked-looking harpoon - was in the back of her Jeep. “Guess it is,” she nodded at Nic before turning her attention to the other woman. The hunter asked the pertinent question, so Mercy stayed quiet and waited for marching orders.

Rebecca didn’t bother with greetings. Once Nicodemus arrived, she turned and headed towards the lake. “At the moment? Keep your eyes peeled. Once the ritual starts, I’ll need energy from one of you.” Her skin prickled, hair standing on end. A sense that she was sure she could ever rely on, but knew not to ignore. Magic. A disturbance in the ether. Ever since she’d contact the astral plane, she’d been able to feel it more deeply. Moving past that, however, she turned to the other two. “I doubt whatever this thing is is going to go down easy. That’s where you two come in. You’re up for a fight, right?”

Nicodemus glanced toward the water. Whatever had happened before, when he had killed the stranger amongst other strangers, he hadn't fought. Couldn't have. It was different now. The fire in him burned hotter. He looked back to Mercy, then Rebecca. "Do what you have to. We got the rest," he muttered as he loaded a round into his rifle. "It ain't over until it's dead." Or they were. He didn't like how quiet it was, or how still the water seemed. As if something were waiting. He supposed something was.

Mercy snagged her things from the Jeep as they started walking towards the water. She gave the exorcist a glance as the woman mentioned the ritual needing energy. Of course it did. But Mercy didn’t bother with worrying. Magic couldn’t drain her completely. It might weaken her, but she would bounce back. She always did. Mercy checked the clip of the one firearm she’d brought before tucking it back in it’s holster at her hip. She preferred blades, and had brought plenty. Mercy shared a glance with Nic before turning back to Rebecca as well. She nodded in agreement with the hunter before pulling her straight sword from the sheath across her back. The sound rang quietly across the stillness of the lakeshore. Mercy squatted down, pressing her fingers to the earth and whispering words in her native tongue. After a moment she was quiet, and fell still. Waiting, just as whatever was out there waited.

Penelope had said that the ritual need be completed by the time the moon was high in the sky, and Rebecca wasn’t eager to rush anything. She hoped the others would complete their rituals on time, but she had to bring herself away from worrying about that-- there was nothing she could do for them, except be ready when they needed her to. She went about setting up her area, clearing a small patch of grass, and setting down the pentagram mat. Pressed a hand to it and watched it burn its imprint into the ground, before pulling it away and rolling it back up. Set a candle at each star point. Wrapped the red scarf (there to replace her missing dagger) around her opposite wrist, the Kabbalah string bracelet on her other, and looked back at the other two, poised for the fight. “Here goes nothing,” she said, before turning back to face the lake. Closing her eyes to concentrate on the energy vibrating through the air. It was now or never. “Remember the deal,” she muttered quietly. When her eyes opened next, one was red and one was blue, and when she spoke, she spoke with two tongues.

The hunter spat to the side and rounded towards the water. His senses were eerily still. Still as black water. The blonde woman had pulled out a sword. Nicodemus glanced at his rifle. Hell, one or both of them were certain to work. As Rebecca spoke, the atmosphere seemed to change. Damn near like a pressure shift. The surface of the water tensed and then broke as a clenched hand lifted out of the water. Then another. The fingers lifted one by one to reveal eyes that first rolled white and then dark, black pupils fixated on those that gathered at the shore. The hunter fired into one of the exposed hands. Blood flowed from the meat as it slipped back into the water. It wasn’t long before more bodies pulled themselves from the water and crawled along the shore. A crawl turned into a run and he grinned bitterly as he looked to Mercy. Fired off another round. “Keep your sword sharp, huh?”

Mercy could feel the heaviness in the air as well. It was an uneasy feeling that made her skin want to crawl away from her bones and hide itself somewhere safe. Somewhere that wasn’t here, by the still, black mirror of water stretched out beneath a sky that was almost as dark. But leaving wasn’t an option. Especially as the water rippled, and something rose from beneath the surface. Followed by another, and another. Black eyes peered out from where eyes shouldn’t exist, and as Nic’s shotgun blast drew first blood, Mercy stood, noting the position of the others in her peripheral vision, and tightened her grip on her blade. The bodies rose quickly after that, black water running down their forms like oil. Mercy gave Nic a grin of her own, though hers wasn’t bitter. It bordered the edge of what some might call madness. “It’s always sharp,” she told him before turning towards the bodies that were streaking in their direction. The first one lost the left side of it’s skull, and staggered a few more steps before falling in a heap. The second lost it’s innards in a steaming pile before it slumped over in the path of the others.

Shotgun rounds found their mark as well, and the smell of copper and rot and gunpowder soon filled the air… air that continued to grow heavier and heavier and heavier…

Nothing except the ritual mattered to Rebecca now. As she spoke, the lines below her glowed, engulfing her in an unearthly blue light, speckled with other vibrant colors. It swirled and shimmered and wavered under the pitch of her voice, and as her voice grew, so did it. A wind whipped up around her, as the light climbed higher into the sky. The surface of the lake rippled. Rebecca could not see through the light to know what was coming, not until a figure was appearing in front of her-- but as soon as it touched the light she was bathed in, it screamed. Erupted into blue flame, and crumbled to ash. “Oooh, neat trick!” Said her other half. But Rebecca kept her concentration on the ritual in front of her, waiting for the signal from the other two, waiting for their beams of light to show.

It was only when a loud, low rumbling, from the direction of the lake, did Rebecca give pause and squint through the light. Without really being able to see even, she knew whatever was coming next, was big. And it was angry.

At the speed they were coming, the hunter had a feeling that the rifle might not be the best option going forward. That worked just fine for him. Nicodemus unloaded shell after shell, took some pride in that strange smell of blood and oil. Keep Rebecca safe. See the ritual through. Take a few bastards out. That was all the reason he needed. When the rifle emptied, tossed it to the side and slid the machete out of his belt. Snapped the gun out of his left thigh holster. Ambidextrous death had its uses. He was careful not to look behind him. If he did, the blue flame might sear the night vision right out of him. Black blood coated his forearms, splattered against his face. Between bodies, he glanced over to Mercy. She seemed to be doing just fine, sword in hand and blood in her hair.

The rumble from the river resonated oppressively loud in his head. Nearly dislodged him from where he stood, but he shook his head and grit his teeth. A feeling of nausea spread through his gut. Cold like fingers seemed to reach into his head. Something was coming. He knew it and it knew him. He swallowed it down as his machete continued to cut through. “How’s it goin’ Rebecca?”

Mercy was astounded at the number of creatures… - or where they people? She wasn’t sure… - that continued to rise up from the water. The bodies were starting to pile up along the shoreline, enough that the ones still upright were having to maneuver around or over them. Which gave her and Nic an advantage. She could see him down the way, past the pulsing blue light that contained the exorcist who was the only one of them who could truly finish this. But she couldn’t look for too long, else the light became too bright.

Nic switched to a blade as the bodies outnumbered the capacity of his gun, and Mercy could hear the familiar sound of metal meeting bone. But underneath it all, something else started to vibrate. The vibration turned to a rumble that hummed in Mercy’s chest at a frequency that made her breath catch. She shook her head too as the hum seemed to crawl up her spine and resonate through her skull. A sound like war horns echoed behind her eyes, and for a moment the Fury felt like her head might split in two. But after a moment, whatever had been scraping around in her skull left when it realized Mercy’s mind wasn’t for the taking. Mercy shook her head again before righting herself and splitting open the neck of a creature that had suddenly gotten a bit too close. It fell, as did the ones that came after. But the rumbling continued... in the air and beneath her feet. Something was coming. Something old. Something angry.

She heard Nic call out to Rebecca, and moved a bit closer to the exorcist's light - willing her to hurry the fuck up please and thanks - as the water started to churn and writhe and bubble. “Stay on your feet!” she called out to him, knowing he might already be a step ahead of her. “Watch the water too!”

Focus, Rebecca told herself, stay focused. There was a lot going on, and she needed to focus. The air vibrated with energy, clashing with the low rumble from underground, from under the lake. Her voice faltered ever so as the surface rippled and split and she squinted through the light. In her mind, even he lost focus-- and shuddered. Whatever was coming, it was big, and it scared him, too. The only reason he had agreed to help, after all. This was bigger than both of them. Then all of them here. Individual distraught was set aside to accomplish this one goal, and Rebecca would make sure everyone’s sacrifice was worth it.

But through her light, as the surface split and out came a tentacle, she couldn’t help but falter. A beam of light shot up to her left. More tentacles protruded from the lake. Water rushed past them all, withdrawing for only a moment before rushing back to the shore, swallowing the dock, the boats, the sidewalk path. It rolled up to them all and soaked their shoes, their ankles, their shins, but no one noticed, because above them now loomed two glowering red eyes, piercing through the haze and darkness around the lake. Beacons. Rebecca’s circle did little to shed light onto the monstrosity, only illuminating a small portion of the massive body that now towered in front of them all. A shapeless form in the shadows, too big to take in all at once; shining with wetness as water fell from it in rivulets, a thick, black ooze joining it. Branch like arms protruded and placed themselves onto the shores, sinking in, shaking the ground. Thick as the trees around the lake. Rebecca stumbled but did not move. A low rumble, like scraping metal or jet engines starting, sounded from the creature as it leaned down to examine them all, as if they were nothing more than ants on its table. “Ya Hashem,” she mumbled in quiet prayer, “<<Protect us G-d>>.” Before swallowing her words, opening her mouth, and daring to continue.

There was a roar in protest, and then, the real fight began.

Nicodemus settled into a rhythm as he grunted an acknowledgement towards Mercy. Cutting through meat and bone became comfortable. A mechanical motion that he fell into easily. Even as bodies fell to the mud and black blood bled into the earth. After all, it was what he had come to the lake for. To cut down the creature that had forced his hand. He tried to focus on Rebecca’s voice, even the cut of Mercy’s blade, as the water rose. Through the darkness, light split through. The light split through him. It burned his eyes and when they were able to focus again, through the slightly pinpricks of discoloration, he saw it.

Red eyes looked into his own. He had felt it long before he saw it. It went beyond his senses, beyond his teachings. It simply went beyond. Those cold fingers in his head pilfered through grey matter, pushed aside what it didn’t need, crawled ever inward. As insistent as he had been to kill the creature, to set things right, he doubted. Even so, he moved. He had to strike first. If he didn’t, he feared what might happen. A tentacle crawled forward and he lashed out at it. It was tough, thick to cut through in one swing, but he muscled through. He had to, as Rebecca continued to speak and Mercy continued to fight.

He looked up at the creature again. A third eye had opened. A fourth too. And they turned slowly. Or had they? Whether or not they were in his mind, he had already lost. Fear did nothing but addle. That doubt spread through him like blood from an open wound. The roar deafened his sensitive ears to everything except for running water. Ocean breeze. The ooze of blood. The breaking of bones. Screams ancient and new. Blood gathered in his mouth from how hard he clenched his teeth. His hand lowered against the creature. His eyes shut. No matter. He could see. And he looked toward Mercy.

A sun that looked like an eyeball caused by perfectly explainable solar flares, a black ocean from an oil spill, and the eyeball prank with the town’s water pipes were just a few of the things on Bo’s mind. Needless to say, she had a lot to deal with. And with a call about strange activity by the lake, she sprung to action. There, she imagined she’d find the lunatic that filled the pipes with eyes, or maybe those pranksters who spent all their time chanting. White Crest was a lot of things, at least she could say it wasn’t ever boring. But what she didn’t expect was a mesmerizing display of artistry. A giant squid thing, actors emerging from the water as if they’d been down there the whole time---if anything, this town could be so unbelievably creative. But this was also probably...illegal, in some way. The lake surely was public domain, but did they have to be practicing for their drama routine at this time? And so loud! What was that roar? Was that what was making the ground shake earlier? That roar nearly knocked the officer off her feat, and clearly having had enough of it, she stormed into the scene. “Hey!” She called out, hand on her hip, “I got a call about---” she stared up at the animatronic squid. It was so...lifelike. So horrifying. So large. How did it fit in the lake? Its eyes glowed with impossible redness, deep like their own lake of blood and fire. She glanced around again, shining her flashlight haphazardly; did those people have weapons? Why were people still crawling out of the lake? This was the strangest re-telling of Moby Dick she’d ever seen. Or was this some new Lovecraftian thing she didn’t know about?

She stormed over to the woman closest to the squid, the lead actor, Bo assumed. Bo had no fear, no worries, nothing in her voice or on her face but awe covered by professionalism. “Excuse me, ma’am? I’m officer David! And you’re going to need to turn down the volume on your play or LARP or whatever here. It’s disturbing the nearby---Wow, there sure are a lot of people that came out of the water, huh? Are those knives? Hope they’re fake!” She laughed, glanced around, wondered why no one else was laughing and turned back. “Ma’am? Sir? Other ma’am? Several robed people of indistinguishable gender?”

There were things in this world that defied any rational explanation, other than they couldn’t be explained rationally. Magic, parallel worlds, creatures of fairy tales and myth… gods and monsters… all existed whether one believed in them or not. Disbelief would kill you all the same. And while belief could hold a power all it’s own - as the power of the exorcist within her circle of light demonstrated - it didn’t guarantee one’s safety either.

But is sure fucking helped.

Mercy watched as the leviathan rose from the black water - “Odin protect us…” -  the twin flames of its eyes burning in the formless shape that towered over the trio on the shore. The earth rumbled beneath her feet, and alongside her a tentacle, blacker than the water it emerged from and as thick as any of the trees that flanked them, slammed itself into the sand. It had barely settled before Mercy swung at it with her sword, hacking once, twice… three times to sever the massive appendage before it could do further damage. She heard Nic still fighting in the darkness nearby, and Rebecca still spoke the words of the ritual from within her still-intact circle of light, so Mercy redoubled her efforts and cut a swath through any remaining bodies that were still a threat. She didn’t stop until she was between the exorcist and the beast.

Gore coated her skin and hair and dripped from her clothes. From the edge of her blade, the blood of the leviathan ran thick and dark and smelling of rot. It was this blood that she touched her fingertips to before pressing them to her forehead, just over her eyes. Drawing twin lines  over her eyelids, cheeks, mouth, and chin… Mercy looked into the face of the monster, and spoke in a lost tongue: “1200 years I’ve walked this earth, yet still I’m left to wonder… how does an Olde One come to be inhabited by such a lesser creature?”

The air around the Fury crackled and hummed as she paced a line back and forth over the gore-covered sand. She was so focused on her words, on distracting the creature long enough for Rebecca to finish the ritual, that she didn’t notice the moment Nic’s blade grew silent. Nor did Mercy notice a fourth person amid the chaos. One who was very, very human, and running right into the fray. She continued to speak, hoping it would delay any further attacks on Rebecca.

“But I see you now… I’ve tasted your blood… and you are not Jǫrmungandr. You will not bring the end to this world. You’ve fallen too far, grown too weak… if that parasite inside you holds you captive.” Mercy shook her head. “You are no god.”

The black water lapped at her boots.

“You’re just a slave…”  

There was too much happening at once. Rebecca’s concentration was slipping-- but Amnon could stay focused. He took the moment to seize control and eyes  flashed red. They moved in unison as a hand reached out, grabbing the closest cultist and searing the flesh on his face as light followed after in a wispy trail, as if it, too, were made of dirt and fog. Someone appeared beside them-- a woman, with dark hair and dark lips and confused eyes. She was shouting something at them, but Amnon paid no mind. He narrowed their eyes, honed in on a hand ready to strike, a knife slashing in their hand. Amnon managed to snag it just before it reached the detective, and the robed figured cried out, dropping the knife, as the light consumed him. For a brief moment, Amnon turned their eyes to face Bo, one red, one blue, both glowing with a matching light to the circle. “Not fake,” was all they said, both voices coming out at once, before they turned back to the ritual.

The warrior spoke to it in an ancient tongue, one Amnon barely recognized. But her words would fall on deaf ears, this was no old one. This was a creature of its own design. Finally, the two pillars arched in the sky. Brace yourself. They clenched their teeth, spread their legs, and planted their feet as they raised their hands. And when the beams met, they crashed with a thunderous boom more powerful than the monster’s roar. And when they reached Rebecca and Amnon, they exploded with a brilliant light, pushing everything dark away, leaving her, the officer, the warrior, untouched. But not the hunter. He was filled with darkness now, too. They had no time for him, though, and with a hefty charge, Rebecca and Amnon held their hands out. “BE UNTO THIS MORTAL PLANE,” they shouted, “WHERE PAIN AND STRIFE WILL BE YOUR DOWNFALL.” And hoped the two fighting-- and perhaps even the officer-- would remember the instructions. Now was the time to strike.

Grey matter turned to darkness as the light fell away. The crash of light had nearly blown out his eardrums. In the space between haggard breaths and silence, purpose steeled him. The parts of Nicodemus’s conscious state were steadily lulled to sleep underneath chaotic, yet somehow rhythmic waves. Some of him still fought. Just as it had happened before, it happened again. It wasn’t enough. He was forced behind an immovable wall as he started to move, compelled by something greater. The mark that had been gouged into his hand ached as his fist clenched. He could hear the voices of both the living and the soon dead. The hunter focused solely on the blonde woman who spoke in an olden language. It wasn’t His and therefore, it served no purpose. A useless tongue. Fit to be torn out.

Whatever she intended to do, He would not allow it. Rend her hands from her body, silence her tongue. Scatter her bones to the under dark. One of the robed figures cut across his path and he grabbed them by the neck. A mistake on their part. Black coated his hands, his blade, as he twisted and tore through water-logged flesh. Drenched in something wicked and silent as the grave, he advanced.

Wow! These were really dedicated actors! Bo wanted to applaud, the effects were just so realistic but they were all clearly so immersed in their roles that she didn’t want to interrupt them. She could let them go, couldn’t she? As an artist herself, she could understand their passion. Of course, her art was more baking-based than theirs, but she was an artist nonetheless. She glanced around again, the strange, wet robbed people shambled towards her and the lead actress. The other woman was hacking away at something and the big, buff man was...walking towards the other woman? Even with her flashlight waving around, it was hard to make any of the action out. “You should be doing this in better lighting,” she commented quietly, not wanting to disturb the play. “I mean, it seems like it must be a health-hazard or something!” As she spoke, one of the robed people moved towards her, brandishing a knife. “T-those are retractable, right?” The robed figure advanced, grazing her arm as she jolted out of their way. Hot blood coated her arm as a sharp pain shot through her. She clutched the wound, watching the way blood coated her fingers. Bo glanced around, the woman had been hacking at bodies, hadn’t she? These so-called robed actors? “This isn’t art!” She drew her gun, firing a round into the sky. “Stand down! Stand---” But they didn’t. She noticed finally that they charged unnaturally, as if being marionetted by some invisible force. There weren’t many of them left, but the few that were seemed so interested in the woman---the actress. Bo snapped around and fired a shot at the large animatronic squid as it roared, and then another, and another. “What is this! Am I endangering protected wildlife?” She swung her baton at a sluggishly approaching ‘actor’, only to find them groan and rise with determination. “You guys should have done Romeo and Juliet! I don’t like this play!” She fired into the sky again, clipping the squid creature with the bullet.

Mercy’s words had no effect on the beast. It paid her no heed, gave nothing in response to her taunts. But it had been worth a try. Behind her, there was a flurry of motion, and the smell of seared flesh, a raised voice, and then the sound of gunshots. Mercy glanced back long enough to see a body consumed by the light of Rebecca's circle. And then the signal they’d been waiting for pierced through the darkness.

Mercy thought her eardrums would burst when the beams came together. The sound resonated inside her head, trembled down through the pillars of her bones and vibrated in her blood as Rebecca’s light washed over her and the dark-haired woman. But Mercy didn’t see Nic, and briefly wondered if the worst had happened. But there was no time. Rebecca’s voice rang out, invoking the words that would send the creature back where it came from. Which meant it was time to strike.

From the sheath across her back, Mercy pulled a short, wooden staff, the length of which was carved with runes. She ran her hand over the wood and whispered a few words. The runes glowed a bright red - the same color as the eyes of the leviathan - before starting to move and curl towards the empty space at either end of the staff. One end extended down towards the sand, creating a thick, sturdy base. From the other end, a long, wickedly curved blade formed from the ether, glowing with the curling red light of the runes. Mercy turned the great harpoon towards one of the creature's crimson eyes… said a prayer that it’s path would be true… took aim…  

And let it fly.

Rebecca and Amnon collapsed in their exhaustion, still struggling to hold together the circle of light. “You must wound it!” she shouted at the officer, her voice only. Something felt like it was vibrating inside of her, trying to burst out. She had to hold the energy, had to wait. If she released the ritual too soon and monster would stay and all of this would be for naught. Trembling, she tried to pull herself back up, even the monster inside of her exhausted of his powers. “The creature, we have to wound it enough...to send it back...I can’t step out of this light or the ritual will be ruined,” she explained, hoping that some part of this officer’s brain could register that this wasn’t fake and they needed her help. Her eyes searched for Nic, saw the spear soaring. It caught the creature in the eye and roared, rearing back, tentacles slamming into the ground, shaking the entire area. Water splashed and lapped up around them all, cultists fell in heaps. “That!” she shouted to Mercy, “keep doing that! Aim for its eyes! They’re the weak point!”

The hunter’s pace increased as the monster roared. Pain bloomed. Some unseen panic rose up in Nicodemus’s chest. Frustration grew as he tore through more of the robed figures. They had their purpose but now they were getting in the way. His was greater. Black blood flecked his face as he stepped into dim light. When he looked at Mercy, he didn’t think twice about it and instead moved. Crashed towards Mercy like an unmerciful wave, compelled by the moon and the pulsating cold in his head. He grabbed for her throat as water sloshed up against his ankles, then his knees as he advanced toward the water. His face was stone as he looked at her. Through her. It wasn’t the hunter with his eyes on her. It was him and if he bid it, let her choke on black water until her spirit caved.

Or was it a play? Bo glanced around frantically, and though she kept fending off robbed figures with baton swings, earning her bone-shattering crunches and snaps as she smacked the thing around, she wasn’t entirely sure that this wasn’t some new kind of immersive theatre. The lady kept saying strange things, and Bo was sure she just saw the other lady fling a whole spear-thing at the giant squid. Yes, she was bleeding...but did artists not bleed for their art? The tentacle slam seemed real, and loud, and she stumbled for it. But what else was she to think about the command ‘we must wound it’ like this was some episode of Supernatural? “Okay, but do I shoot at the eyes or does she? Like what’s my storyline in this play? Or does she just--” She gestured to the woman who was now---”Fuck! I think your actors are turning on each other! No! Please! That’s violence! That’s bad!” And the buff man looked so much stronger than the woman, or so much more dedicated. She moved to separate the two, finding her path blocked by more robbed actors as they grouped in on her and the lead actress. “Eeck!” She fired her gun up into one of the eyes, like she said, wondering if it worked or not---she really just wanted to scare these robed people away, but gunshots would not deter them, being repeatedly hit with a baton did not deter them. She didn’t want to shoot, but it seemed to be the only thing she could do to keep them from stabbing the lead actress. “Can I shoot these things!? Are these people? They don’t seem like people! AH!” Another one charged at her, cutting the other arm. She shoved that one down, firing a bullet into its head--convinced it couldn’t be a person. “I-I think y-your animatronics are evil!” But the blonde woman and the buff man were people, she knew that much. She shone her flashlight at them, firing at the rest of the robed robots. “You two stop that! Stop!” She fired a few more bullets up, into what she hoped were the eyes and not just blindly into nowhere, before she turned to the lead actress--confused and desperate for a prompt.

When the spear hit home, Mercy let out a cry of triumph. It was drowned out as the beast roared in pain and anger - a terrible, deafening sound - and its long, inky-black limbs writhed and crashed around the small group. The ground trembled in the wake of the impact to the sand, and Mercy nearly lost her footing against the suddenly shifting earth.

But still she heard Rebecca call out, heard the confirmation of the beast’s weakness, heard another voice - the dark-haired woman- asking what her role was. “Yes! Shoot it!” the Fury answered as she took up her next weapon, a longbow, and nocked an arrow tipped with a long, serrated head. She fired it into the leviathan’s eye, followed by a second, causing the monster to roar even louder as both struck true. The beach was chaos - light and dark, blood and water, sand and ash, life and death… all struggling against the inevitable - but Rebecca’s light held true, and the sound of gunshots filled the air alongside the whistle of Mercy’s arrows and the chant of the exorcist’s words.

Mercy had just nocked her third arrow when something huge and hulking bore down on her without warning. She barely had time to react as Nic’s hands latched onto her neck with an iron grip that would’ve crushed a human's throat like a soda can. But Mercy wasn’t human. Nic wouldn’t be able to strangle her no matter how hard he tried. Regardless, Mercy made a slightly pained sound as the hunter’s hands started to squeeze, and her own hands snapped up to latch tightly around his wrists. This close, the bright light of the ritual circle illuminated his face… and the blank expression of a man who was no longer in control.

Fuck.

“Nic! I know you’re in there!” Mercy yelled, using her grip against his skin to push as much of her Valkyrie influence into him as she could. “Fight it!” But the water was cold and getting deeper by the second as Nic bullied her backwards. There was no time. Using Nic’s own forward momentum and size against him, Mercy planted her feet against the sandy bottom and pulled forwards on his arms as hard as she could. She then threw her entire body weight backwards and down, dousing herself in cold, black water, before putting both feet into the hunter's stomach, hard. She pulled and kicked out with everything she had in an attempt to flip him over and onto his back in the water. As Nic fell, Mercy tried to twist out of his grip, swinging her fist at his temple once he was on his back in an attempt to stun him enough to make him let go.

“Fight back, Nic!” The water was freezing against her skin as it churned around them, stirred by the furious, wounded monster overhead. “Don’t make me hurt you!”

Her power wavered. Rebecca’s eyes flickered, the matching glow from her circle fading for just a moment. No, she couldn’t let go now. She couldn’t. Power, they needed power. She felt him pushing against her, inside. He wanted to consume, he was using her weakness against her. “We made a deal,” she hissed, buckling to her knees, thick, chilling water splashing up her thighs, her abdomen, making her shiver. Hands fell into the water as well, one clutched to her head. She needed more power, she didn’t have enough. She never had enough. Fists dug up mud and grass. Eyes searched the battlefield. The human cop would not do, the hunter would not do. Zeroed in on the woman fighting. Her power was calling to them. Infinite and endless. Yes, her.

Amnon reached out, hand bursting through the light, and called her to him. A telekinetic pull, with the last of his energies, the two fighting bodies tumbling towards them. Fingers caught at the blonde woman’s chest, and pressed. “Give me power,” they said, and in the next moment, magic swelled into their arm, their chest, lit up their eyes, burning with a fury a hundred times more powerful than before. “Let’s finish this,” they said together, eyes boring holes through the battery of a woman before turning away. Raised their hands. It was time to finish this.

The hit to Nicodemus’s gut slightly winded him but what compelled him wasn’t human. It didn’t need to breathe the way that something brokenly human did. Even if his lungs seized slightly and his throat burned. His grip on Mercy maintained even as his head smarted from the shot to his temple. She was talking to him in a language he knew and chose to ignore. All that was needed was the language of blood and water. It spoke clearly enough to him. She fought against him as he dug his heels into the dirt and twisted his upper body, leverage on his side as water lapped at his wrists. The other woman said something and then, he could feel Mercy start to slacken underneath him. Noise and light, both human and otherwise, became a cacophony around them but he remained fixated on the blonde woman. He couldn’t quite get his fingers to completely circle around her neck as he forced her underwater, the tension of the attempt clear in his neck and arms. After her, one by one, they all might become the drowned. He would not permit them escape.

Mercy knew Rebecca had warned them that energy would be needed if this was going to work.

Magic always had a price, after all.

But Mercy was still unprepared.

Thunder without sound… light and heat and burning, fathomless eyes bright as all the suns of all the realms… taking what was needed… pulling it from the very essence of what she was… it felt like her flesh was being peeled from her bones…

So as Mercy fought back against Nic’s crushing hold with everything she had - every skill, every defensive measure, any and everything that had saved her life against enemies far bigger and far more dangerous than one mortal hunter, possessed or otherwise ... - she felt herself falter.

And while Nic - or the entity that was in control - couldn’t strangle her or break her bones, Mercy was no match for him when it came down to sheer brute strength. Especially as her own strength started to fade, pulled towards Rebecca’s circle, towards the light that began to brighten even as Mercy’s light started to dim.

The beast roared again as Rebecca raised her hands to the sky, and everything seemed to slow. It was in that moment that Mercy realized there would be no escaping this time. She’d seen enough of life and death to know that her life, such as it was, was forfeit. For now. But she would not go quietly.

Mercy dug her nails into the skin of Nic’s arms, cutting half-moons into his flesh. “You couldn’t kill me if you tried… for a thousand years-”

But then there was only darkness and rushing cold and the sound of her own muted screams as Nic forced her beneath the surface of the lake…

And when the black water finally rushed into her lungs and Mercy’s struggling ended, her last thought was simply:

Forgive me…

It was time.

Power surged through them and Rebecca drew in a breath. She drew herself up to stand again, caked in mud and water, and grass and blood. Inhaled slowly as she took up position inside her circle again, held up her hands. The beams energies were perfectly aligned now, and the monster in front of her turned as if to meet her gaze. It roared again. Soldiers fell. The energy in the air shifted. Nic was pressed on top of the blonde woman, and Rebecca was acutely aware of her movements stopping. But she could mourn the life lost later. For now, they needed to focus.

Raising her hands, she began the chant again. This time in her own language, using her own power. The monster screamed. It reached out, swiping a tentacle across the ground, sweeping cultists and others alike out of its way as it swung for her. But when its flesh met their light, it could go no further. It screamed in pain, shaking the world again, sloshing the water around. It tried to fight back, but their power, the power of the rituals-- it was too strong. She turned her palms to face the demon, and with one word, redirected the light.

As it collided with the monster, it sent out a shockwave. Everyone knocked from their feet. Even them. Light consumed the monster, soaking into it. For a moment, the world was still. Then fissures, like cracks in its facade, exploded with light. From wherever it was wounded. The spear in its eye, the bullet holes rained into it. The hole in its flesh where it’d collided with the circle’s light. As the light from the rituals consumed it, it spread. Out, over the lake, over the water. It consumed the cultists and the docks and worked its way up the shore to the circle. Washed right by her, right by Mercy’s unconscious body, right by the cop. And just when it seemed like it would climb all the way up to the road and perhaps down into the town-- it stopped. And receded, sucked back into the circle, back into the lake, and when it faded, nothing but the four of them were left.

Rebecca collapsed. It was over.

Nicodemus was keenly aware of how her pulse slowed then halted. That panic swelled further in his chest and pressed against every organ, like bear-trap primed to reverse. He needed to keep going. He needed to tear them all down to build a foundation that would outlast their fragile existence. As the beams lit up his eyes and near-blinded him, he stumbled back. Pain ripped through his head and a guttural roar tore through him. About shredded his vocal chords. It was him screaming, the hunter. Not whatever the hell had taken over him. The light faded and he went quiet. Aware. He looked at Mercy, the purpling around her neck and the stillness that overcame her. He had done that. Fuck. He spat out black water. He looked back at Rebecca. Collapsed and exhausted. He couldn’t find any words for what she had done. As he swallowed, his throat burned. Then he looked at the other woman. A cop. Shit. He had to go. He needed to leave. Get away from them. Get away from everyone. Fear swelled alongside panic and he moved to gather the assortment of weapons he had brought. Make sure he grabbed his rifle. His thoughts scattered, damn near impossible to the piece together. A migraine threatened to split him. The look he sent Rebecca could hardly convey the agony that chilled him, but it was all he could muster before he ran towards the thick of the White Crest woods. He wouldn’t stop until his boots wore and even then, not until his feet bled.

There was too much, too soon and too quick. Bo whipped her flashlight around frantically, the man was drowning the blonde woman, whose struggling seemed to die. The robed people stood between her and them, and she stumbled backwards, confused and horrified as the lead actress started her chant. A tentacle sweeped out for them, knocking the robed ones away, halting just in front of her face, between the light and the darkness. The creature roared, and Bo flew back against the wet ground. The world was bright, suddenly, the way she imagined it would be when she died. She might have let it be, if her mind hadn’t thought of the woman, still in the lake, and all that she had to set right. It wouldn’t be her end, not today. As the light was pulled away, leaving their world back in shuddering darkness, she clawed her way to the lead actress first. She pulled up grass and dug dirt under her nails. Bo checked her pulse---alive---then spared a glance up to the strewn bodies of the robed people---or what should have been their bodies. In their place she found their robes, stained wet and dark with something she couldn’t see. But it didn’t matter, not now. She clawed across the ground again, picking herself up only to slip in the mud and come crashing back down. Ink coated her hands and she tried again, clawing and running, stumbling and shouting. The man was gone. She committed his silhouette to memory before she turned to the lake. There, with equal vigor, she splashed and waded through the water, grunting and heaving as she pulled the blonde woman’s body out.

Once at the threshold between land and water, her feet began slipping on the mud, her arms looped around the woman’s losing their grip. And everytime Bo faltered, she dragged her up with renewed strength, determined to see her live even if the cold stillness of her body told another story. “I need--I need---” she panted into her receiver, calling for backup, ambulance, anything. “Come on,” she begged the woman’s unmoving body. She checked her pulse--dead. She began the process of resuscitation. But each pump, each breath she tried to bring back to the woman’s lungs, was met with stillness. “Please,” Bo croaked. She continued to plead long after the woman was pronounced dead. And all that remained of the oddities she’d witnessed were the giant squid, a handful of ink stained robes and a mismatched recounting that made no sense to even her. But she begged until her voice went raw. She begged for some justice in the world, some answers that could be clung to. She wept, for the unnamed woman who drowned, for the man who left his crime to be unanswered, for the woman who cast the squid away, now alone on the floor. She wept for all the horror that this town produced, and all the pieces she was missing.

This town needed saving, but how could anyone help when these were the troubles they faced? What hope was left for White Crest?

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 16: No Not Like That

Aw, been a while since I wrote one of these! Anyway: we run into some dickheads and try to solve things the not-murder way for once. 

On the road outside Bad Herzfeld, the trolls slowly begin to peel off and go their separate ways. Dr. Kjeller and his new bodyguard Kjell are the last to leave the main road, stopping to say goodbye to the small contingent of humanoids.

“Welp, dis trolls’ moot has certainly been an experience,” Dr. Kjeller sagely intones. “I would not say a success. The two of us are going to tour around and tell all the trolls we can find to stay away. I believe a trolls’ moot is not uncalled for, but we must look for a different place. Ideally one not full of weird fungus people. And, please, if there is anything I can do to help you….well, I guess you’d have to find me first.” He tips his travelin’ hat and departs. Gral tips his mask in return. He’s getting the hang of these Valdian customs!

It seems like the Orcish outriders have already left to report back to Duke Shieldeater, so it’s just us, the Fairgolds, and the beleaguered innkeeper and his daughter. What do we do with the civilians? I mean, we’re headed to Mornheim, and even if we’re gonna fix the water it seems kinda rude to drop someone off in Zombie Town. Flynn offers to introduce Aaron to his innkeeper uncle back in Holzog, to see if he can get a job there.

Flynn and Fiona are gonna stick with us to Mornheim. “Look, you had all the fun up there in Bad Herzfeld; I’m not gonna let the four of you get all the glory. You’re gonna do a big ritual and save the whole town? I gotta see this.”

We spend a couple uneventful days hiking back to Three Oaks Junction, where we’ll split up with Aaron and Rebecca. The DM tries to waylay us with a destroyed bridge over a fast-moving river, but we have a Ring of Jumping and a magical alligator. We’re fine. We roll some bad perception checks on watch and our rations get stolen by Curse Raccoons.

ANYWAY. As we get back onto the major roads, Gral is the first to notice something odd: there’s no carts coming from the direction of Three Oaks. Sure, it’s late evening, but last time we were here there was still a heavy buzz of activity through the busy trade stop. We approach extra-cautiously, making sure the civilians are in the protected center of the group.

The town comes into view, and it’s immediately obvious something has changed. A hasty palisade wall has been constructed around the town, and a banner has been hung over the gate, white with a red insignia of a bloody chain.

Shoshana groans. “AAUUUUGH, are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”

“Um, did the town always look like that?” Rebecca asks hesitantly.

Valeria shakes her head. “Not last week, it didn’t!”

Gral pulls the duo aside and gives them the Cliffs Notes: “We’re about to run into the Penitents. Talk about Rack as much as you can and hide behind Valeria. I hate dealing with these folks, but it looks like they put this place on lockdown, and we gotta make sure y’all are safe.”

Outside the gate, there’s a uniformed Penitent Knight keeping watch over a group of citizens who are digging graves. The gate itself seems to be manned by standard town militiamen, being supervised by another Penitent. Valeria casts a quick eye over the scene with Detect Magic, but finds nothing amiss. As she approaches (we’re wisely letting the paladin lead), a guardsman shouts “Halt!”

She stops at a polite distance. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service,” she announces formally. “What’s going on here?”

“By order of the town council, all who seek admittance to the town must submit to examination for heretical artifacts or influences,” the guardsman recites, scriptedly. The Penitent behind him nods in approval.

She meets his eye with an intimidating draconic stare. “We have artifacts we need to bring to the Cursebreaker Knights. Perhaps we can check them at the door and pick them up later?”

“Uhhh,” the guy says, his script clearly not having prepared him for that. “…maybe you should talk to the Inquisitor. He’s gonna want to speak to you about these ‘artifacts.’”

He has us wait a minute, and we take a quick mental inventory. We’ve got an evil skeleton tapestry, spooky lutestrings, the Eyegis, and one (1) entire Shoshana.

A group of six Penitents arrive and escort us stiffly into the town. The place is crowded as all get out; it looks like a lot of travelers have been stuck here way longer than they anticipated. There’s only two properly empty spaces: one’s some sort of enormous construction site, and the other is the area where the circus tent was; it seems nobody’s been brave enough to move into the spot or even clean up the ashy, crumbling remains.

There’s a rather unusual cart sitting among the crowded caravan parking, immediately familiar from the two reptilian beasts of burden hitched next to it. There’s a bit of a staredown happening; two Penitents are remaining remarkably steadfast in the face of two enormous, glowering tattooed figures. We can’t pop over to say hi; our escort is hustling us along and we’re not sure that knowing us would do Lucinius any favors.

Valeria’s about vibrating out of her skin, indignant at all these unfairly-detained innocents, and looks about a second away from drawing her sword and opening up a can o’ Righteousness. But no time for that; we’re being ushered inside the sheriff’s office.

The small-town hoosegow is cramped; there’s been makeshift cages built all along one wall, seemingly as some kind of holding cells, all of them full. Shoshana appraises the prisoners out of the corner of her eye. They all seem to have slight Curse mutations, but so vaguely that it could just be garden-variety weirdness. Sure, that guy could be a werewolf, but he might just be a real hairy dude. That lady looks sallow and corpselike, but not more so than any garden-variety resident of Mornheim.

Shoshana, her clawed hands shoved deep in her pockets, is strung tense as a lutestring. Valeria’s still managing to feign chilly politeness, but both of them are half a breath away from fight or flight.

Gral’s not looking at the prisoners. He’s too busy looking at the guard. There’s two burly Penitents at the door, which is unsurprising, but Gral could swear he’s seen the one on the left before.

He’s pretty sure we killed that guy back at the roadhouse.

The guard doesn’t seem to recognize us at all, but he’s pretty badly scarred, exactly in the way someone might be if they took a hit from a drow soldier’s greatsword.

We’re pulled out of our wary observations by a familiar, unwelcome voice. “Ah. Kyr Argent, wasn’t it?”

“It is,” Valeria allows frostily, as the Inquisitor glides into the room.

“It is good to see you again – in a manner of speaking,” he says, chuckling at his own joke as he gestures to his blindfolded eyes. “Yes, from the descriptions of the heroes who defeated the heretical circus, I suspected I might have the pleasure of working with you once again. What brings you to Three Oaks Junction?”

“Oh, we’re just passing through. Y’know, like travelers do,” she answers, her polite smile showing just a little too much fang.

“Yes, of course. As you can see, this town has become very useful in our war against the Curse.”

“Is it, now.”

“After the incident with the circus, the town council was afraid. Many of them had attended the performance, after all. They were worried that there might be some…aftereffects. Fortunately, my people were nearby, and they summoned me immediately to examine the town for signs of the Curse’s corruption. As we were here, it became clear what an asset this town is – just as the heretics used it to corrupt many at once, we can use it to root out those heretics who hide among us.

“On our first day here, we found one who bore the mark of the curse. I examined him myself. Foul lycanthropy. He was, of course, executed. Now, none pass through this place without our inspection, and we have found many others. You may have seen some of them outside, awaiting a more thorough examination. My work has kept me too busy to give each case the attention it truly deserves.

“The town council has been very accommodating. I have written to my fellows, and we are working on converting and expanding their humble chapel into a true bastion of Rack’s justice, where the divine light of the gods may lay bare the evil that hides among us, that walks the roads of this land spreading its poison.”

Gral mutters, aside, “Don’t think anyone’s walkin’ these roads now…”

The Inquisitor claps his hands briskly. “Now. I understand you are in possession of some artifacts, objects that you are transporting on behalf of the Cursebreaker Knights. I fear for our brothers amongst the Cursebreakers; their mission is noble but they meddle with powers they do not understand. There are things in this wood it is better not to trifle with. Bring the items to me, and I will inspect them. Those I deem acceptable may remain in your protection, but anything too dangerous must be destroyed. Should the Cursebreakers fall to corruption, we would lose some of our greatest assets in this war. Help me protect the Cursebreakers, Kyr Argent. Show me what you are transporting for them.”

Valeria nearly decks him then and there, but a quiet brush of shoulders reminds her of the trembling sorceress behind her. Not here, not now, not when we’re surrounded. If they get an excuse to get aggressive, Shoshana’s sunk.

We busy ourselves with pulling out Weird Yet Harmless artifacts. What kind of random space trinkets did we find, again? Clem shows them the Eldritch Cookbook, and we take a gamble by letting them look at the Pale King’s tapestry, which is a bit large and hard to hide.

“Very well. I will examine these,” the Inquisitor says smoothly, his tone giving no insight into whether he knows we have far more blasphemous things to hide. “Gunter! Find them lodging within the town. Once I have examined these items for corruption, I must confirm that none of you have been corrupted by their presence.”

Valeria smiles tightly. “I’m certain they are corrupted, but not corrupting.”

“With all due respect, Kyr, I have made a study of corruption. Now, because of your…esteemed position,” he says, gesturing toward her rose-emblazoned armor, “you are no doubt on a mission of some considerable importance. I will endeavor to expedite your case as much as I can.”

“Oh, there’s no need to give us special treatment. All the travelers here need to get through,” she responds pointedly.

The Inquisitor’s serene, condescending expression does not change. “You may go,” he dismisses. “I am very busy. As I’m sure you know, the work of good in times of evil is ceaseless.”

Valeria bows to the exact millimeter that politeness requires, and no further. He’s blind, and doesn’t notice.

As we’re ushered back out, Shoshana tries to catch the eye of one of the caged prisoners. They mostly just look scared, not evil, and there’s no sign they recognize she’s also corrupted.

Clem, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to scrutinize the weirdly familiar guy at the door. He looks perfectly healthy, except for all the scars. She elbows Valeria, who confirms with her Divine Sense that this is just a normal dude, not an undead. He’s either one hundred percent living, or whatever nonsense that brought him back from murder is specifically cloaked in a way that would fool a paladin’s senses.

Our escort shows us to a place to set up camp. There are several inns in town, but all of them are fairly occupied at moment. We’re pretty sure that a Knight of the Rose, hero who slew the dread circus, could pre-empt a less fancy guest, but we’re all chill with camping as long as we get to hit up a food truck or something.

We meet back up with our friends. The Fairgolds, who are pretty familiar with Three Oaks, are pretty shaken by the drastic changes. Aaron and Rebecca, meanwhile, are shocked. “Is this what the rest of the woods is like?!” Aaron asks. “I knew things were bad out here, but I assumed once we got out of Bad Herzfeld…”

“Different places have different issues,” Gral explains kindly. “Some are the kind you’re already familiar with. And apparently some places are afflicted with Penitent Knights.”

“Even before that, there was an undead curse which afflicted this place-“

“-Which we DEALT WITH just fine-“ Valeria interjects grumpily.

“-and Holzog’s safe now, but it had its own weird issues we had to deal with too. The Curse is everywhere; you can’t really get around it without clear-cutting the forest,” Shoshana admits.

We get the lay of the land. Commerce has slowed, but not stopped. The Penitents are searching everyone going through here. If they find nothing, they let you go. Most of the crowd is just people waiting for their turn to get checked. We see a few times, though - if something about you pings them as weird, they take you away.

Basically, we are in line at the TSA.

Guess we’ll take a walk.

We skirt warily around a Penitent street preacher who’s shouting something about justice, and casting out evil, and how Rack appreciates your sacrifice in these trying times.

“Sacrifice is a WILLING thing,” grumbles Valeria.

We walk around and do some casual recon. Much of the town is still a perpetual campsite/bazaar, but near the more permanent municipal buildings, several work crews are busy with construction, which the locals tell us is supposed to be some kind of temple. Quite a few rough tents with Penitent insignias are pitched by that area. The town militia is out in force, and it’s much bigger than when we passed through last week. Maybe half of the people running around on patrol are actually trained fighters; most of the new recruits barely even look like weekend warriors. Every patrol, without exception, is being supervised by at least one Penitent.

People are scared, mostly. Nobody around seems happy with the Penitents, but a lot of the people around have reluctantly agreed that Something Had To Be Done about threats like the circus, and there weren’t any other available options. No one’s enthusiastic they’re there, but neither are they vocally critical. Then again, we worry, maybe anyone who’s been speaking out or causing trouble has, uh, disappeared.

We make our way back to our own wagon. If we’re gonna go Get In Trouble, like adventurers do, it’s probably time to part ways with our civilian friends. We pool 40 gold for Aaron and Rebecca (Clem contributing nothing because giving money is WAY too personal; Shoshana giving extra because she’s projecting really hard onto them) and Aaron’s eyes go wide. Oh, right, most people don’t make adventurer amounts of cash? It’ll be enough to get them safely set up in Holzog, with money to spare. They leave to set up their own travel plans, stuttering awkward thanks.

Flynn, meanwhile, grins. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. You guys are terrible liars, I know you’re plotting something.”

We admit we don’t actually have a plan, but Valeria is adamant that This Nonsense Cannot Stand.

Let’s go recruit some allies, maybe? Gral wanders within Message range of Lucinius’ wagon, which is very clearly cordoned off and under guard. Bjorn and Ingborg are still there, but there’s no sign of the dragonborn.

“Heyy it’s us, what’s going on? Over.”

“Hello. We cannot leave. The Professor was taken. They wished to search the cart. He explained what he has and what he has found, that he is carrying important research. He would not allow them to confiscate his research, and he went to speak to the one in charge. That was three days ago; we have not seen him since. It is our duty to protect the man, but we have not seen a way to fulfil that duty without getting ourselves killed.”

We promise to keep them posted, and ask them to sit tight so when we make our move, it’ll be coordinated.

Next, Gral and Shoshana go down to the local pub to see if we can find anyone that’s particularly malcontented with the Penitents. We assume religious zealots are not much for hanging around bars. They don’t seem to be much into worldly pleasures, coughzombiecough.

Nobody’s talking too much shit until they get a couple of drinks in them but we do find some people griping, mostly merchants passing through. Pierre the Demish furrier, who we met back at the Holzog roadhouse, has turned up again; apparently the Penitents seized a good deal of his stock. And he’s been reduced to drinking BEER. He has OPINIONS about that. (It does not stop him drinking lots of it; he has to drown his sorrows at being denied worthy alcohol.)

Gral tries to butter him up a bit by letting him ramble about Demish wine. “When you drink a bottle of Demish wine, you taste centuries of tradition in that vineyard! You taste the earth itself, the hands of the farmers. It is sweet and it stings and it is good. What is this? Barley? Hops? HOPS? Hop is a verb, hop is not an object. Hop is for bunnies. The bunnies may eat the hops, and then I will cook the bunnies,” he mumbles into his unsatisfactory beer.

Gral fumbles for sommelier expertise. “I come from a smaller river village; wine tastes different farm to farm. It’s not just about the plants, but the social experience.”

“It is the same for us, yes? A region’s wine is its SPIRIT. You go to the border of the goblin swamps, and the wine there tastes like fire and blood, like the steel of the chevaliers that defend it.”  Go to Petit le Fere, it tastes like long summer nights. Go to Marsène, the wine tastes like – have you ever been in love, Monsieur Orc?”

“Uh, n-no?”

It tastes like the first time you and your lover locked eyes and laughed together. That was my favorite wine. This? This tastes like mud with pretensions of alcohol.”

“It’s not the steel of the chevaliers, but it’s the taste of hardworking people. And if the penitents have their way, there won’t be a town here anymore.”

Gral butters the guy up enough to find out a few basic details: there’s about two dozen proper knights, but they’ve got local militia and volunteers to swell their numbers. A lot of people are very keen to get on good terms with the new bosses, whether it’s because they’re afraid of the Penitents or afraid of the things out in the woods that the Penitents have promised to fight.

“I was here to get a blood-red deer pelt with wolf’s teeth,” the trader complains. “I know a chevalier who would pay dearly to have it worked into his armor. And now it has been taken away!  For my ‘protection,’ apparently. I had to surrender the rest of my stock to avoid being thrown in those cages.”

Everybody in the tavern seems to be on good behavior – sure, there’s folks displeased with the Penitents, but nobody’s gonna do anything about it; if you look like you might be up to something, you’re gonna get dragged off. And Pierre’s been keeping a low profile ever since he saw that blue dragonborn get dragged down into the basement of the sheriff’s office.

Shoshana, meanwhile, slides over to a tough-looking lady at the end of the bar in militia-style leather armor. “Hey, you look like you’d know the system here. We just got in to town; how long before they search our cart and let us go?”

“A couple days; we got a huge backlog,” the woman, who’s introduced herself as Vanessa, tells her. “Depends on how much they suspect you. Some people, they like to leave ‘em here for a while, to watch ‘em for anything suspicious.”

“You say that like you’re not involved? You’re dressed like you’re with the militia.”

“Technically I am. Second-in-command, or I was, before all this. Not sure who is now. Hell, I was the one making noise at Sheriff Wilbur about getting more muscle after that circus thing. If you folks hadn’t shown up, I dunno what would have happened.”

“So you all get bossed around by the Penitents now?”

“Look, half the kids in the militia right now barely know which end of a spear is up. The Penitents agreed to supplement what we had.”

“…yyyyyeah, it kinda feels like they’re calling the shots, though?”

She sighs. “Yeah. Look, I had the idea that we needed to beef up, bring in experienced vets. I was hoping to get mercs or something, and then they showed up and filled the role. They made some kinda deal with the town council, y’know, they’d provide extra security in exchange for being given jurisdiction over anybody found to be corrupt. Sounded fine to us at the time. See, we didn’t make the connection that if they were with the militia, they’d be the ones making the call who all’s corrupt or not.”

“How many people have been deemed, uh, ‘corrupt’?” Shoshana asks.

“More than I’d like, but not enough to get everyone all up in arms. Everybody’s pretty sure that most people will be fine. Hell, most people probably will be. When someone goes to trial, they take ‘em to the sheriff’s office. That Inquisitor guy looks at ya, says a few magic words, and most of ‘em he lets go. A few get taken to the cages for a further exam. I dunno what that means – don’t know anybody who’s been let go after that. A couple of times he just made a motion and bam, those knights beat the poor bastard to death on the spot and burned all their belongings.”

Vanessa doesn’t look too thrilled about that, so Shoshana decides it’s time to confide a little. “Even with the entire town vouching for me that I helped with the Circus, I’m worried I’m a target.”

“Well, I don’t mean to say anything, but I saw y’all leaving the sheriff’s office. You’re gonna get called in; you’re exactly the type. Even before all those stories about burning down circus tent with your magic powers.” She stares into her beer. “They’ve gotta be crazy. There’s plenty of crazy in the forest for them to deal with, why the hell are they in my town?!”

The problem is, the Town Council, which is what passes for a governing body in Three Oaks, have signed off on the whole deal. “The council’s just three people – the sheriff, Burgermeister Menner, and Remick – he’s the guy who keeps the shrine up and running. They all agreed to have the Penitents come in, but we haven’t seen much of any of them except the Sheriff since.”

Shoshana files that info away for later. “You said the sheriff’s still out and about?”

“He’s – look. Wilbur’s never been the most enthusiastic about bein’ sheriff. We served together, way back, in the house guard of the von Kempt family. Even back then he got the job because he’d been a sergeant. The guy was always happiest taking orders, rather than giving them. And hell, most of the sheriff job was just keeping things running today same as yesterday. But he got pretty spooked by the circus thing. That kinda shit’s scarier than your ordinary pack of wolves or bandits. I tried to get him to do something, but he seems comfortable with penitents calling the shots. He trusts they’re the experts and know what’s best here.”

The Burgermeister’s been pretty busy with this whole thing, apparently, and Remick hasn’t really left his little shrine. The Penitents don’t use that one – they’re more into big prayer ceremonies and dramatically flogging themselves in the street, and they’re starting construction on their own grand temple. Something about “showing faith by constructing a worthy house of worship,” and all that.

Vanessa’s grumbling about the heavy restrictions on the gates into town and the perimeter patrols, so Shoshana strategizes. “Have you had problems with people hopping the fence?”

“I mean, normally, no? Town regulations say go through the gates, but we’ve always had teenagers hopping the wall, or people with business outside who don’t feel like walking all the way to gate – never a real problem, until this whole nonsense. I’m not on patrol anymore, but as far as I can tell people are too scared to try in case they get caught. Probably a good way to get declared a potential heretic.”

Apparently the wall isn’t super well maintained; there’s plenty of places a few charming scamps could get in or out if they’re willing to scramble a little. It’s a trade stop, not a fortress.

We don’t get too much more info around town, and decide to investigate the town council in the morning. We take watch overnight, but nothing happens.

In the morning, we split up to cover more ground; Clem and Gral head to the Burgermeister’s, while Valeria and Shoshana try to hit up the local chief cleric.

Clem and Gral arrive at the biggest house in town. There’s a Penitent standing guard outside the door. They skulk around nonchalantly to the back to properly recon. There’s no Penitents watching the back, so Gral slinks up to a window to peer inside. It’s pretty normal; there’s a woman baking bread. Clem points out that we’ll definitely look like the bad guys if we break into an occupied home, so…the polite approach it is.

“The Burgermeister is not feeling well and cannot see visitors,” the knight at the gate intones.

“We’re here on urgent business,” Gral improvises. “We are the adventurers who defeated the circus; we wish to talk to him about the restoration efforts.” He rolls a properly bardic persuasion check, but it’s still like talking to a brick wall.

However, the door opens behind the stoic guard. “Who is it?” An elegant middle-aged woman peers out at us. “Wait, don’t I recognize you?”

“Yes, we assisted in deposing the circus!” Gral replies warmly. “Gral Omokk’du; I serve Duke Shieldeater.”

“Clementine Haxan,” Clem offers laconically.

“Ah, yes. Please do come in. You left town so quickly, my husband and I weren’t able to properly thank you!”

“We had urgent business elsewhere,” Gral admits, the picture of good manners. “I suppose that’s how life is.”

They make pleasantries with the woman, Meredith, who falls easily into the role of gracious host.

“We had concerns to bring up with the Burgermeister, but what’s this I hear about him being unwell?”

“Yes, he’s been bedridden the last week. A bit of the flu; he’s getting to that age. Mostly it’s just the fatigue, really.”

Clem tuts. “I’m a bit of a medic myself. The flu can be very serious when someone is in advanced years. I could potentially give a clearer diagnosis, maybe alleviate some of his pain?”

Meredith visibly brightens. “I was thinking about sending for a doctor anyway; please come on up, I’ll see if he’s ready to take visitors.”

The Burgermeister has CORONAVIRUS and we’re in QUARANTINE.

She leads them upstairs. “Dear? Aldrich? Remember those people who helped with the circus? One’s a doctor!” She listens for a moment. “You’re tired? You’ve been tired for a week. No, that’s not normal. It’s normal to get a doctor!” She turns back to the two visitors. “He’s being silly, come on up.”

“I don’t need a doctor, just rest!” we hear a harrumphing voice complain.

He is lying in bed in his pajamas. Ah, this is the burger kingdom! No, it’s my burger meistdom

“Hello sir, I’m Clementine Haxan. This is my nurse, Gral Omokk’du.”

“An orcish nurse?” the Burgermeister

“I’m not as experienced as Miss Haxan, but I served as a medic during the Ascension War,” Gral seamlessly bullshits.

“Look I’ve just picked up a bit of a bug and I need rest;” he grumps. “It’ll go away after a bit and I’ll resume my duties.”

“That may very well be true, but gods forbid it’s serious,” Clem says in her best Bedside Manner Voice. “It’ll be good to have it looked it.”

“Ugh, poke and prod me, do what you have to,” he reluctantly concedes.

Clem makes a medicine check with Dr. Wendell’s assistance. The man’s not entirely healthy - his cholesterol is a bit high maybe - but he’s hardly an invalid. He genuinely seems to have some kind of cold or flu, but it’s very mild at this point. There’s no way he should still be bedbound. Maybe it’s just Clem’s standards as an army doctor, but if a soldier came up to her with these symptoms asking to be let off duty the prescription would be “stop wasting my time and go dig latrines.”

Gral insights the guy. He’s not lying; he honestly believes he needs rest. But the way he keeps repeating the word “rest” feels a bit weird. The vibe isn’t “this person feels sick and fatigued,” it’s “this person has an insistent conviction that He Needs Rest.”

“Rest” isn’t a Prisoner buzzword, but Gral’s seen bards cast Suggestion before, and that seems to line up a little too well. Unfortunately, he can’t just Dispel Magic the darn thing; it’s too artful and subtle for that.

Gral decides to fish for a bit more info. “Before we leave you to your rest, how long have you had this flu?”

“About a week? The Inquisitor comes by every morning to update me on the town’s situation. Though I must rest and cannot attend to my duties, a town’s Burgermeister still must keep up with the times!”

“When did you first come into contact with him alone?”

“Oh, I insisted on a meeting when he first came into town a week ago.”

Interesting. The Burgermeister falls ill just in time so that the only information he gets about the town comes from the Inquisitor himself.

Wife doesn’t go out much, armed guard outside

Did he update you on the cage and the executions?

Have been capturing some neer do wells that seek to do harm to town, held for further questioning, some eliminated to protect town like common bandits or beasts.

Saw people in cages! How would you describe them, Clem.

Clem: didn’t strike me as especially dangerous folk

“Well, neither did that ringleader! He only seemed as eccentric as any other traveling performer!”

“Sure,” Gral argues, “but that’s when he had time to prepare his lies and his magic. These scared people in cages wouldn’t be able to hide if they tried. Honestly, the worst I saw was an excessive amount of body hair.”

“Fine, fine, I will inspect these prisoners personally as soon as I feel better, which should be any day now!”

“With all due respect, you fell ill right after this Inquisitor started talking to you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Miss Haxan says you’re fine-“

“No I’m not! I need rest!” the Burgermeister interjects heatedly.

“We saved the town, and we’ve had trouble with Penitents before. I believe he has a spell on you. Please, let me try to remove it.”

“I’ve no time for your insane ravings, orc. The Inquisitor is a man of faith! Now leave me to my rest. Dr. Haxan, I appreciate your diagnosis, but I tire easily these days. Have my wife show you out.”

Gral knows the effect of Suggestion is only about 8 hours, but it’s subtle mental manipulation; it lasts. If the Inquisitor is coming by every morning, that’s the perfect opportunity to refresh the charm.

The two of them head out, Clem politely prescribing a short calisthenic routine for the man and, oh, he’s on the mend but just in caaaase he’s contagious the Inquisitor probably shouldn’t visit for a few days?

His wife agrees that sounds reasonable, but it probably won’t stop the guy. They say their gracious goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Shoshana and Valeria are headin’ to church. It’s a tiny thing; there are naves for the three gods we expect, but it doesn’t have the traditional empty throne of Oberok and we’d be surprised if it had a proper hidden shrine for the trickster god Guile. There’s a few people around, and luckily no Penitents posted outside.

Valeria, of course, stops at the Rack shrine for a short prayer, still getting used to how odd it is to see him depicted as human instead of dragonborn. We notice a few little notes – the Lethe shrine’s sponsored by the local blacksmith. You too can have a sword or hammer just like these, in our showroom down the lane!

A few folks are doing their daily prayers and making offerings. They’re all locals and travelers; there’s not a single Penitent in sight, which is pretty odd. There’s no services right now, so we head over to the old man who’s cleaning up candle drippings under one of the offerings. Valeria introduces herself, at your service as per usual.

“Ah, Kyr Argent! I remember you, from that blond man’s story about the circus! Keeper Remick, at your service. How may I aid you?”

Valeria asks him how, as a keeper of the faith, he feels about the Penitents.

“Well, in these times, faith is very important. And they certainly have plenty of that. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? As a paladin, I’m sure you agree.”

“Faith is one thing, but I can’t say I’m pleased with what they’ve misguidedly done here,” Valeria sniffs.

“As I see it, they’re keeping the town safe. The Inquisitor explained it to me. It’s the will of the gods! Desperate times call for desperate measures, and, well, times are pretty desperate when you can’t even trust a circus! With your mind, that is. With your wallet, Guile walks with them, doesn’t he? Anyhow. These Penitent fellows, they seem extreme, but is there any other option?”

“There must be,” Valeria declares. “They’re detaining people at a crossroads, that’s the work of oppression.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far – see, the Inquisitor explained it to me. He is an experienced scholar of the faith, with a keen – not eye, I guess. A keen sense for the corruption that lurks in the hearts of men. I am, to be honest, just a glorified janitor!”

“I’m certain you’re more than that,” Valeria objects.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. It’s a role I’ve found fulfilling, keeping this place and these people.”

“Well, it seems like they’re brushing past this place in search of something new.”

“Yes, heh. I believe the intent is to make this town a bastion of faith. I’m sure that my little spot here will still remain in use, but more glorification to the gods is good, right?”

We botch an insight check and don’t get a real good sense of him. There isn’t the sense that he’s lying about anything – our impression is he believes it’s not his place to stand in the Penitents’ way; they must know better than him. He’s an old man who’s done a noble job, but he doesn’t think he’s cut out for determining who is or isn’t a danger to the town.

We try another tack: “I understand you’re on the town council?”

“I am. Don’t know why, really. We used to have a proper cleric, decades ago. When he died, I was closest thing to a replacement we had! As the keeper of town’s faith, I hold one of the three seats. Burgermeister Menner does most of running the town, but for the big things he calls in myself and the sheriff and we all take a vote.”

“Then you must have been a big part of bringing the Penitents in?”

“Well, Sheriff Wilbur’s the one who brought their offer to us. I did vote in favor, yes. The Inquisitor showed up personally with his people and described the whole arrangement he had in mind. The Penitents would reinforce and train our militia, and those guilty of corruption would be remanded into their custody for justice. It all seemed very reasonable; sheriff Wilbur does his best but clearly he and his deputies aren’t enough on their own, not against this sort of curse. Burgermeister Menner fell ill shortly afterwards, and I’ve been very busy here doing what I can to keep up folks’ faith.”

Shoshana butts in. “Have you actually been out to see the Penitents work?”

“Yes, once. It disturbed me, but I understand it couldn’t be avoided. The Inquisitor suggested it might be best to avoid seeing such things that upset me so.”

“But if it upsets you – wouldn’t you be the one with authority to change things?!” Valeria demands, failing a persuasion check.

“Oh, voting on anything like that has to wait until the Burgermeister feels better.”

“Can’t council members do anything on their own?”

“Like I said, we’d have to convene to vote…”

“Sure, for the big things,” Shoshana argues, “But the sheriff and Burgermeister have their own duties, don’t you have your own authority as well?”

“I - I suppose I could call clerics from other towns to take a look?”

Valeria puts a gauntleted hand on his shoulder and sparkles at him with all her charismatic piety. “You’re not just the keeper of the shrine, you’re the keeper of this town’s faith. I know you can make a difference.”

The dice land in her favor. “Yes!” the old man declares. “I will-I will do something. What is it I should do? I’m new to this. I’ve held this seat for 20 years but, well, doing something is new. Mostly council meetings are that the Burgermeister says I’d like to increase the tolls, I say the gods probably won’t argue, the sheriff says it won’t cause a riot, and then he does it. I am not suited for a crisis.”

“Well, what kinds of things do you normally do?”

“Er, sometimes I have to sit in on a trial and make sure the prisoner has an advocate?”

OH YOU’RE A PRISONER ADVOCATE, HUH. WELL BOY DO WE HAVE SOME PRISONERS FOR YOU.

“Why, don’t the Penitents do that as clerics of Rack?”

We politely do not laugh in his face. No, no they do not.

“Oh, then I must go at once!”

We’re gonna reconvene with the rest of the party, and then will see the gods’ justice done! After lunch!

The four of us, plus the Fairgolds, meet up. Flynn reports that there have been no changes; the Penitents let all carts through but seized some items, mostly books. We swap info about the Burgermeister and Keeper Remick. The town leadership is hardly good in a crisis, but the Penitents have definitely been separating and keeping them down on purpose.

The first step is to bring in Keeper Remick as our prisoner advocate for those folks being held in the basement. The old man puffs himself up with as much importance as he can, aided by all of us backing him up looking tough. “AHEM,” he announces to the nonplussed Penitent guard, “as a member the of town council and keeper of town’s faith, let me speak with your prisoners!”

Silence.

“Can I speak to your manager? I mean leader!”

The Penitent shakes his head.

“Now listen here young man, what seat do you hold on the town council?!”

The Penitent finally speaks. “I have been instructed to-“

“To work WITH the town council,” Remick retorts, showing a surprising amount of backbone. “No matter how much experience you all may have, it is my solemn duty to speak with the town’s prisoners! Allow ,e to do my duty or I will be forced to write a sternly worded letter! APOLOGIZING FOR FORCING OUR WAY PAST YOU!”

The Inquisitor glides up behind his guard, listening to Remick’s speech. “Very well,” he intones in his eerily calm voice, “You may…enter.”

We are brought down to basement. It’s a set of maybe 6 cells, more suited to being a drunk tank than any long-term holding cell. In one cell we spot the distinctive scales of a blue dragonborn, and as our footsteps clank on the stone, an equally distinctive voice begins to shout indignantly.

“You brutes, I demand you return my research materials to me! I was in the middle of some important work when- oh, you aren’t the warden. My goodness! Kyr Argent! I must say, it’s rather good to see a familiar face.” Oh, hi, Lucinius.

The cells are overcrowded – there must be 20 prisoners across 6 cells. Lucinius and everyone else crammed in with him look pretty beaten up. They all look completely normal; the ones with visible mutations have been imprisoned where people can see. These are the prisoners they wouldn’t be able to get away with holding publicly.

Lucinius has clearly got a rant building up. “I explained to them many times that I am a professor from Golden Academy, and they refused to listen! They said my studies are ‘heretical’ and my magics ‘invoke the name of the tyrant god’ – yes, obviously, they were written during the Aquilian empire, they said ‘Oberok’ every other word! It’s not a dirty word! Anyhow. Are you here to let us out?”

“We’re here to be advocates!”

“Oh, we’ve had advocates!” Lucinius huffs. “The Inquisitor is the prosecution, while one of those fanatic knights serves as our ‘advocate.’ It’s quite far from ideal; their position as advocate is that we ought to confess, if we understand the gravity of our crimes. And then they hit us a bit.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the customs of this land,” Gral allows, “but that doesn’t exactly sound like proper advocacy.”

“Well, I certainly don’t know how things are done in this country! I’ve never been accused of a cr- well, I have been accused of many crimes,” Lucinius admits. “I find it’s best never to assume about local customs. That got me into a LOT of trouble with the goblins. Did you know they have a ‘trial by fire?’ I misunderstood it, they just light a big fire to keep the courtroom warm while the trial goes all night. I went to great lengths to cast Protection from Energy! And of course it turns out casting spells as a prisoner is double illegal…”

“Double illegal?”

“Yes, it means they bring in twice as many judges.”

As he rants, the sight of innocent prisoners in miserable conditions seems to be a pretty strong argument. Remick’s fully on board with booting the Penitents out as soon as he can convene the town council.

Gral’s going to make a show of it. Loudly, he declares, “This is a violation of these citizens’ basic rights! We’ll need a full meeting of the town council before any Penitent activities continue!”

The Inquisitor hmms. “That’s…certainly something the Burgermeister could order. But nobody may leave if they have not been inspected. If we cannot continue our inspections, the town would shut down entirely.”

“The lockdown would only start once the Burgermeister declares it, which hasn’t happened yet,” Valeria interjects testily.

We’re politely and pointedly escorted out.

Lucinius shouts after us, “Don’t be long! Tell my bodyguards these people are not allowed into the cart without a warrant signed by someone of noble rank, or at least with a judicial position! Also, contact the embassy! They can’t do this to me, I have tenure-!”

The session closes as we discuss how the hell we’re going to get a Proper Council Meeting with the sheriff out “receiving instruction” from the Penitents and the Burgermeister convinced he’s indisposed. And we’ve got to get at least two of the three to vote the intruders out. That’s not gonna happen without them feeling like they have some way to protect the town from the Curse.

We fondly reminisce that our previous campaign’s party would definitely have started murdering people by now.

[pathogenic]

Chapter 8: The Swine God

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Necromancer

Chapter 2: The Prophet

Chapter 3: The Hag

Chapter 4: The Brigand Vvulf

Chapter 5: The Brigand’s Cannon

Chapter 6: The Drowned Crew

Chapter 7: The Siren

Chapter 8: The Swine God

Chapter 9: The Formless Flesh

Chapter 10: The Ancestor

Epilogue

Warning for Violent Character Death

Credits to the Darkest Dungeon Wiki page for piecing together the Ancestor’s backstory.

It was an awful idea. I shouldn’t have entered the room I found, and yet I couldn’t pull myself away.

The immediate area was a study. This was were it seemed my ancestor did the rest of his studies into magic and forbidden arcane arts. There was a bloodied table and a bucket of something foul I didn’t wish to investigate any further. There were books on spells, rituals, and herbalism, but most importantly, there were journals. These were different than the ones I had found before. While they had much of the same dates, it was like these journals never aged. The pages were still pristine and perfectly legible.

I sat in his old chair in front of his desk, journal in hand, and I started to read, and oh the things I discovered. I learned of how he met a noblewoman who was far too beautiful and of lavish parties held in the courtyard. I learned of how he realized how cruel this woman was but played into her sport. He killed her and mixed her blood with wine and had the corrupt nobles of the land drink it. He had but a drop himself and it taught him about something ancient and truly powerful. He locked the nobles in the courtyard and let them kill each other in a frenzy as he started upon his work.

It started off simple enough. There was a woman in the Hamlet who already dabbled in magic. She used herbs and mushrooms in order to understand and use her craft. My ancestor described it as a rudimentary introduction to magic, but a good place as any to start. However, his thirst for knowledge caused him to reach overseas and to employ people who dabbled in the more extreme versions of the magic he desired. Around this time, he also started to make dealings with a pirate crew to secure the supplies he would need for his studies. What he needed was best not seen by the public eye, after all. There were also mentions of a woman who started to follow him along the Hamlet. At first, he appreciated the attention, but eventually it began to wear on him.

From there, my ancestor started to change into something inhuman. The witch started to rely more and more upon the mushrooms and the herbs she used for magic to try and understand the power that my ancestor was touched by, which warped her appearance severely. In his disgust, he sent her away and deep into the Wealds. He justified this by saying he had no further use of such a crude practice.

The scholars he called upon bored him, so he killed them and raised them to see if he could. The story from there was one I knew already – the dead started to raise the dead. He found this amusing.

The pirate crew started to grow bold and charged him more and more for the supplies he needed. So one night, after the pirates ran amuck in the Hamlet, drinking and raising hell, he cursed their anchor. He said he gave it every curse he knew so it would drag them to the bottom of the sea and drown them all. It was no wonder it took Alhazred so long to remove the curse, or rather, curses.

At this point, my ancestor went beyond being simply inhuman and started to become only what I can describe as a tyrant and a monster. There is no shortage of bodies in the Hamlet. Even in the more peaceful times, there was plenty of plague and strife to help fill a graveyard. This meant that he had plenty to work with for his forbidden arts. He combined pig flesh and human flesh and raised them, just to see what would happen. He called these twisted creatures the Swinefolk. More often than not, he wasn’t pleased with the results and would dispose of them, though he didn’t detail how.

He continued with this vile craft until funds ran low. At this point he discovered a ritual that he could perform to secure more resources. He tied the woman who followed him to an idol and pushed her into the sea. The next day he found many beautiful jewels that helped fund his monstrous research.

He also detailed how a man approached him, speaking of things he shouldn’t know. He warned my ancestor that his ambitions would destroy him and the Hamlet. My ancestor didn’t wish to hear it, so he tortured the man in broad daylight. The townsfolk turned against him, so he hired brigands to keep them in line. The man then approached him once again, offering his warning a final time. Apparently from there, my ancestor showed him something so awful that the man tore out his own eyes and fled into the dungeon.

There is nothing much beyond that, just further accounts of his experiments with the Swinefolk. At that point I felt far too disgusted to continue. I slammed the journal shut and shoved it away from me. The loud clap caused something on the other side of another set of locked doors to squeal. It did not escape me that it was a very odd pig-like squeal. At that point I realized where he was disposing of those failed experiments. At that point I rushed back to the top floor of the Estate.

By then, the sun was just starting to rise, and the Hamlet was starting to wake up. I was quick to gather my heroes, demanding they prepare for battle. Naturally they were confused, there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, but I insisted, promising them answers later. I told them to gather their gear and then head for my Estate.

Slowly they filtered in, exchanging confused and concerned looks. It seemed that they thought I finally had lost it from the stress of managing the Hamlet and trying to undo what my Ancestor had done, but I knew I was in my right mind. I could not help but pace as we waited for the last of the heroes to arrive, which I’m certain did nothing to disprove of their theories about me.

Once they were all assembled, I explained what I had found within the basement. I lead them down to the locked doors and tapped the door with the pommel of my sword, but nothing squealed this time. There were looks exchanged before they went back to the previous lock to grab the key from it. The key was then placed within this lock and it sprung open.  If the smell was bad before, it was almost unbearable now. We recoiled and prepared for whatever we would find on the other side, but there was nothing that can prepare you for the sight of humans melted together with pig flesh, making malformed creatures that only knew violence.

The first of the Swinefolk we had encountered gave a blood curling scream before charging. Thankfully, these creatures were not particularly strong and fell to our blades within moments. It seemed that not all of them were this brazen, however. The sound of someone gurgling caught our attention as we realized that while we were charged by one group, another had snuck around to ambush us. Audrey didn’t stand a chance with a knife in her throat. It dawned on us that we could be attacked from anywhere if they were capable of such tactics. We stood close as a group, watching each other’s backs as we pushed further and further into the halls beneath my home and beneath the Hamlet.

It was a long and tiresome journey. My ancestor certainly had kept himself busy with this nightmarish craft. I did not want to think about how many people it took to make something of this size, not that I even had a chance to in all honesty. The attacks were enough to keep my mind busy.

At some point we became aware of a scream that drowned the rest out. Whatever made it had to be a creature of immense size. It echoed down the halls and we stopped dead in our tracks to try and figure out where it came from. Then it screamed again, and we strained our ears. We could hear the sound of something scraping and then the sound of something dragging. Whatever it was, it was heading our way.

Cautiously, we moved forward, towards the sound. It wasn’t like we had much of a choice – there was only one way forward after all. We couldn’t just go back. If this was the source of our troubles, then the sooner it was dead, the sooner the Hamlet could recover.

What we found I can barely describe. It was a member of the Swinefolk that nearly scrapped his head on the top of the ceiling. It had no lower half. It was nothing more than a pile of viscera that made up its torso and head. It slowly pulled itself along the floor with one hand, the other clutching a giant blade. Upon its head was a crown formed of iron, so I could call the beast a Swine King, but with its horrible size and impossible form, it seemed more fitting to call it a Swine God.

Beside it was a far smaller member of its species. The smaller one locked its eyes onto us and then emitted a terrible little screech. The Swine God raised its head and looked straight at us and then the giant blade was raised. It came down with a loud crash and I felt fortunate that the attack was so obvious we could easily move out of the way.

The smaller one then squealed again, and the attack fell once more. At this point, Fergus ripped away from William’s grip, lunging straight for the smaller one. He bit down hard on the creature as it gave an earsplitting scream. The Swine God immediately turned as William started to dash towards his hound. The blade moved fast this time. William defended Fergus, and because of this, the blade imbedded itself deep within him. The hound howled for his lost master, but fled the fight, not seeing any reason to risk his life any further without his master. With his tail tucked between his legs, he dashed for the door.

With his little friend now safe, the large, monstrous creature started to aim for us again. We split apart from each other, hoping to make it difficult for the small beast to determine who needed to be attacked. The swing from the Swine God were less accurate and more telegraphed, but that wasn’t always a promise, especially the more we injured the larger beast. He became more panicked and would start to ignore the barks of the smaller one. The Swine God would swing at whatever he thought was near by with no care as to the damage it caused.

With a few more strikes, it fell back into the pile of viscera it likely once was. The small beast, now panicked and alone, started to lash out. He attempted to swing and bite at as he pulled away to try and make an escape. It only took one shot from Missandei to stop his infernal screams.

Thinking that we were victorious, we started to leave. It was at this moment we heard the sounds of something dragging closer to us once more. We realized that our fight with the Swine God and his small friend likely covered up the sound of another enemy approaching, and now here it was, entering the room we were in.

If what we fought was horrific, then I lack to words to describe what entered the room next. What we were met with was a being that had no solid form. It was nothing more than viscera loosely bound together. As it moved, we could see flashes of faces, of bone, of innards, or anything you can possible imagine that was once human or swine. We found ourselves rooted in place with out fear and our disgust, allowing the hideous abomination a chance to fire a tendril with a mouth forward into our group.

[secretsantasides]

Gift #1: By Day, By Night

Gift for @aggressiveshipper

Prompt: LAMP, Soulmate au.

People whispered that the town was cursed. Monsters lived in every nook and cranny for leagues. Thieves and bandits attacked the townspeople on their yearly journeys to sell wares at the marketplace. Demons prowled the forest surrounding them, and ghosts haunted the night long after they had passed on. A sorcerer was rumored to live in a tower in the woods, and the mountains were littered with dwarves. The trees surrounding the town seemed to move in the night, and most people who strayed off the path winding through the woods were never heard from again. Dragons flew overhead every night, but were nowhere to be seen in the morning. People whispered that the town was cursed. Maybe it was.

Logan watched his students attack straw-stuffed dummies. The head of the class, Thomas, fought with the most vigor, stabbing and slashing, wildly ripping at the fake soldiers until they were reduced to shreds. He stood, panting, wiping the sweat and hair out of his eyes. Clapping his hands to get their attention, Logan shouted, “Very good, everyone! See you tomorrow!” The students dispersed, and Logan exited the training area as well, straightening his shoulders to rid them of the tightness. He walked down the small village street, past the market vendors who advertised amulets ‘guaranteed to protect you from dragon attacks!’ Logan snorted. Those didn’t work, obviously. He entered a small bakery, which was run by his best friend, Patton. The curly-haired baker was always smiling, handing out treats to children, and making everyone’s day just a little bit better. Every time that Patton smiled, a piece of Logan’s heart melted. He fell in love whenever the baker talked. Patton was only a touch taller than Logan, but every time he looked into Patton’s eyes, he knew he was looking at the stars. But he couldn’t be in love with Patton. He just couldn’t be. The mark tied his soul to others. “Hello! Logan, how was your class?” Patton smiled brightly behind the glasses that enlarged his eyes so well. Logan blushed faintly, but replied, “My students performed exceptionally well today. May I please have one loaf of bread?” Patton nodded, and passed the bread to him, taking the few pieces of gold. “See you tomorrow!” Logan reluctantly left the shop, clutching his bread and watching the afternoon sun drift lower in the sky as he walked to his cottage at the edge of town. He added his newest loaf of bread to the growing pile, knowing that he would end up giving most of it away to the students in his class. To tell the truth, Logan only bought bread every day so that he could see Patton more often. There wasn’t much else Logan did. Aside from... He shook off the thought and adjusted his shoulders again, hoping to find relief in the new position. Through the small opening in his wall, he could see the sun lowering closer to the ground, and he fixed his navy robe and headed out into the evening. Wandering into the forest, Logan watching the sun sink lower into the trees. A hollow oak afforded him a place to stash his robe for the night, and he shivered in his thin white shirt. He let the scaly wings that had been trapped inside his robe all day spread, bracing himself. The sun touched the horizon. Immediately, a shot of pain cracked through his body. His head spiraled, and the crown of his head felt like it had been lit on fire. Horns erupted from his hair, growing with his wings and Logan curled up on all fours, silently retching and crying. A tail wrapped around him next, and Logan grew, his face turning scaly. He forced himself to focus. Deep breath in, deep breath out. His clothes, instead of ripping to shreds, now melted nicely into his skin, which was quickly becoming shiny and tough. Throat burning, he opened his mouth to let a small flame out, smothering it with one huge claw before it could spread. He wobbled to his feet, and opened up the dark blue wings. Logiltis the dragon, tears still running from eyes he no longer had, flew into the starlit night. Virgil had been waiting at the meeting spot for a while, pacing around and around, impatiently wondering where the others were. Romulus arrived first, the fire that permanently burned at the end of his tail sputtering and flickering. He had obviously flown here fast. Logiltis showed up next, breathing flames onto their bonfire. He was the only one allowed to do that at this point, everyone else might set the forest ablaze again. Now they were just waiting on Patarius. The light-blue and grey tinted dragon came skidding into the clearing a few minutes later, panting. “Sorry, everyone!” he gasped. Virgil thought that he had seen a white strip wrapped around Patarius’s neck, but it flew into the fire and was burned to ashes. Logiltis was pacing around the outskirts by the trees. “It is certainly getting colder. Make sure your wings don’t freeze. They could be torn beyond repair.” “Hah!” piped up Romulus, who was sprawled out across the ground. “I don’t have to worry about that!” With a smug grin, he waved his tail around, showing off the flickering flame at the end. Virgil pushed it away, growling playfully, “I thought you cared, Oh Fiery One. You aren’t going to try to keep us from freezing?” Romulus let out an offended snort, smoke rising into the chilly night air. “Wha-bu-of course I would! I just wanted- Logiltis is right, stay warm when I’m not around to save you.” “What if we just migrate for the winter?” quipped Patarius. The others let out roars of laughter. This idea was pitched every year, and they had never once left. Virgil couldn’t go. He was certainly the only one who wasn’t a full dragon. What if he turned back while they were flying over the sea? Would the others notice? Or would they keep going without him? Logiltis sat neatly by the fire, curling his wings and tail around him gently. “I, for one, have no reason to doubt that we can survive another winter here, having made it through fifteen of them alrea-“ “Bedtime!” Patarius chirped, snuggling up to Virgil. Their nightly ritual was something Patarius had proposed years ago, “because we need to stay alert during the day, just in case humans come!” It was a good sentiment, Virgil supposed, but he didn’t do anything most days. He could barely understand other humans. The cuddle pile was steaming in the cold night air, and, despite Virgil’s troubled thoughts, he closed his eyes. When he woke up, it was still dark, as usual, but he wasn’t the first one to leave, which was honestly quite surprising. Logiltis was gone, so Virgil started creeping through the trees. It wasn’t safe to fly in the morning, given that farmers started working early. So silently he went on foot, dreading the pain of the sunrise. As the pink spread over the horizon, Virgil’s body slowly and painfully shrank back into a human. The only thing left unchanged, if only a little smaller, was his purple tail. His violet cloak was wrapped tightly around himself to shield from the cold, and as he traipsed through the mountains, he couldn’t help thinking of his winter coat. The red, fur-lined coat had been one of his favorite projects to make, the dragon scales feeling fresh and smooth under his fingers. And, yes, it was Romulus’s shedded skin. There weren’t many dragons that he knew in the woods, and he would have been uncomfortable taking their loose scales. But whenever the winter came around, and they shed their scales for thicker ones, Virgil always went back the next day and took them. No sense in wasting it. Virgil entered his cave, careful not to alert the pair of angry dragons that lived nearby. He started a fire and sat down by a blank stretch of wall, watching the firelight dance across it. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he dipped his hand into a crushed up berry mix and began to paint. Stroke by stroke, the picture grew, forming into a painting of a dragon, roaring towards the ceiling of his cavern. Virgil lowered himself to the ground, fingertips brushing across the rough stone to create three other dragons below the big one, their tails all intertwined. He stood up and stepped back, his berry stained hands tugging unconsciously at his shirt, revealing a mirror image of the mark on the wall burned into his chest. Patton was fuming. First, he had gotten distracted while transforming, and he tore his favorite apron. Then, he had forgotten to tell his friends about his other life...again. To be fair, he had meant to tell them for years. He just...got scared. He wasn’t meant to be half-and-half. And for sure, nobody else was like him. Who would be? Patton had woken to an empty clearing, the sun rising gently over the horizon, and a lot of pain screaming through him. He lay there suffering for what felt like hours, he got up slowly and started for his town. He was late! Before he exited the cover of the trees, he put a hand up to his curly hair, adjusting it to hide the tiny horns still poking out of his head. Once inside the bakery, he fired up the ovens and started mixing the first batch of dough. After putting in the usual ingredients, Patton stealthily added a pinch of everwort into it. Not enough for the harmful side effects, but with this extra ingredient, the bread would stay fresh until the buyer ate it. That was Patton’s specialty now. Years ago, Logiltis had proposed that they each teach the others a skill that they had, to learn more about the others. Romulus had taught them how to speak basic Gnome, Mermish, and Goblin. Logiltis told them how to defend themselves from any humans who would try and slay them. Patton had shown the others proper meal building, but ultimately, it was Virgil’s who had helped him the most. He had taught the rest of the dragons about poisonous and magical plants, and while Romulus was not-so-subtly yawning, Patton’s eyes were sparkling. He had gone back the next morning, picking all the helpful plants, and spent the next few months experimenting with them. But his experiments got a little out of hand when Molly Smith had eaten some of his healing bread with an infected cut. Not only did the infection clear up, but the wound scabbed up, then disappeared over the course of one night. Nobody suspected the bread as the culprit, but Patton resolved to be more careful. He still sold magic bread, but the magic was quieter, like the everwort. Sometimes, he would still try to give people magic bread, if he could see something wrong. Logan came in with a cut on his cheek? Patton’ll sneakily pass him some healing bread. A farmer comes in, exhausted beyond belief, but only halfway through work? There might be some energy bread in the back. He loved making people feel better. Even if he couldn’t tell them that what they were eating was magic. He tossed the everwort loaves into the oven and left them to rise, melding a new piece of dough with his fingers. Life was good for Patton. “Good work, Roman.” the king said somewhere in front of him. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” he replied, keeping his head bowed low. “I have another mission for you. The people of Maidenvale have reported angry unicorns charging them to steal their crops. Can you slay them, Roman?” “Yes, Your Majesty.” And so, Roman found himself traipsing through the woods, wishing for his dragon wings. “But no, I got the stupid fire-breath!” he yelled into the wilderness, scaring a few birds out of their tree. In a huff, he stormed onwards, waving away the little smoke puffs coming out of his nose and mouth. He approached Maidenvale, the sun already at its peak. He would have to hurry. Roman entered the town, flashing the medallion from the king and calling, “King Matthew sent me to take care of the unicorns, but please, go inside a building and wait there.” Plenty of people shook his hand, or whispered praise, or thanked him as they passed, which made Roman uncomfortable. “Are all these people this excited for the death of magical creatures?” he thought. “Because as a half-magical creature myself, I’m offended!” He drew his sword and entered the woods, ‘tracking’ the unicorns. This was all part of his act. He’d waste time ‘on the hunt’ for whatever monster he was currently fighting, after warning any nearby residents to stay inside. That way, no one could catch a glimpse of- An angry whinny sounded from a hundred steps away. Roman switched his sword to the fighting position, and rushed toward the noise. The pack of unicorns was charging through the woods, heading straight to Maidenvale. He jumped in front of them, brandishing his blade in the dim light. The herd halted, then snorted in fury, lowered their heads, and charged. A few quick flips and he was over their heads-and into his nightly pain. His nerves were screaming, but inside, Roman just rolled his eyes, waiting for it to be over. His wings spread, tail swished out, and horns erupted from his  head in the dusk. The herd had continued running without Roman in their path, so Romulus flew over their heads and spit fire, creating a barrier that they couldn’t cross, though the fireproof Romulus could. “Listen,” he hissed at them, hoping he had the right words. His Unicorn was a little rusty. “You go mountains. Not safe!” The unicorns did stop cantering around anxiously, but they just looked at him in confusion. He gestured frantically at the far off mountains. “Go.” Finally, the leader seemed to get it. Romulus put out the fire fence and they galloped off in that direction. Romulus flew off-at last- to meet his friends. After all, none of them had ever missed a meeting.

[aninevitablemultimuse]

@spitefulgames said: Send ‘✩’  for our witchy au :)))

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? - They’re about equal, if one’s talking calmly the other usually will, if one starts to raise their voice so does the other, but they don’t do screaming matches. Who threatens to leave but never actually does? - Kenma. Who actually keeps their word and leaves? - Milin, but he comes back. Who trashes the house? - Neither of them trash it but they move and hide things the other uses a lot so they have to spend time looking for them. Do either of them get physical? - Not on purpose, but there may be some minor accidental magic based incidents from Kenma’s end - just while he’s learning how to use his magic properly. He’s always genuinely sorry. How often do they argue/disagree? - They don’t argue often, but it’s not uncommon for one to be a tiny bit frustrated with something the other has done, even though it won’t last long. Who is the first to apologise? - They’re both really stubborn, so it varies based on whoever breaks first each time.

Sex:

Who is on top? Who is on the bottom? - Milin usually tops, but there are occassions that Kenma does, since he generally prefers both bottoming and being physically beneath a partner. Who has the strangest desires? - I’d say Milin. Any kinks? - Absolutely, they’ll try almost anything once - so long as they’re sure they can do it safely. As for specifics, I get the feeling praise would be very much involved. Who’s dominant in bed? - Usually Milin. Is head ever in the equation? - Yep If so, who is better at performing it? - Milin Ever had sex in public? - It’s always streams with Kenma. Who moans the most? - Kenma Who leaves the most marks? - Milin. Who screams the loudest? - Kenma Who is the more experienced of the two? - Milin Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? - More often than not they fuck, but making love happens too. Rough or soft? - Usually rough, sometimes soft How long do they usually last? - Per round, they’ve got a decent time frame for the actual sex part, but it’s hard to predict because almost every time they go it’s multiple rounds and they’re at it for hours. They’d go given the opportunity. Is protection used? - Sometimes, but usually not. Does it ever get boring? - Not at all. Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? - With these two, anywhere is a possibility.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? - Kenma doesn’t, but if Milin did he’d probably agree to it. If so, how many children do your muses want/have? - For Milin, with enough convincing, Kenma would agree to two, maaaaaybe three absolute maximum. Who is the favorite parent? - Somehow Kenma Who is the authoritative parent? - Both have their moments, but it usually winds up being Milin. Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? - They’d both do that, but Kenma more often than Milin. Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? - Again, both Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? - Both do, but they’d probably also both miss some - they’d make sure they didn’t miss the same ones though. Who goes to parent teacher interviews? - Kenma Who changes the diapers? - Both of them Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? - Both of them Who spends the most time with the children? - It wouldn’t be massively unequal, but probably Milin Who packs their lunch boxes? - Kenma Who gives their children ‘the talk’? - They’d probably have to do this together, so Milin could make sure Kenma actually told them enough and Kenma could make sure Milin didn’t tell them too much. Who cleans up after the kids? - Whoever happens to be tidying up or most sick of the mess at the time. Who worries the most? - Probably Milin actually. Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? - It really could be either.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? - Both of them Who is the little spoon? - Kenma Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? - They both do, but Milin probably instigates more often Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? - Milin How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? - Literal hours. It might be weird for all of 5 minutes but then they’re all in. Who gives the most kisses? - Milin What is their favourite non-sexual activity? - Hair pets! Just sitting together, doing whatever they want to do, reading, gaming, whatever, but hair pets are casually happening at the same time. Where is their favourite place to cuddle? - They’ll cuddle almost anywhere, the cuddles are the best part, regardless of the place. Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? - Milin How often do they get time to themselves? - They spend so much time together it’s unreal. Lots of time cuddling and cuddling but also lots of time alone together doing their own things while quietly happy the other is still in the room.

Sleeping:

Who snores? - I’d say both, but maybe Kenma more frequently. If both do, who snores the loudest? - Milin, not much louder but Kenma’s snores are very quiet anyway. Do they share a bed or sleep separately? - They share the bed but at first it’s just out of spite, neither one would give up the bed so they had to share, then they genuinely enjoy being curled up. If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? - They cuddle! But early on Kenma probably tried to keep distance. That would not have lasted long. Who talks in their sleep? - It’s very rare that either will, but they’ve probably both heard the other once or twice. What do they wear to bed? - Kenma wears boxers and a t-shirt, Milin seems the type to only wear boxers or sleep nude. Are either of your muses insomniacs? - No, but they don’t have the healthiest sleep schedules. Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? - Nope. Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? - Lots of cuddles, lots of holding onto the other, lots of cute. Who wakes up with bed hair? - Milin. Who wakes up first? - Milin Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? - Occassionally Milin, even more occassionally Kenma if he’s apologising for something. What is their favourite sleeping position? - spooning Who hogs the sheets? - Kenma. He’s a burrito Do they set an alarm each night? - Kenma does in the week, but it doesn’t always work. Can a television be found in their bedroom? - Yes, they use it for background noise on their lazy days in bed together. Who has nightmares? - Both occassionally, it happens. Who has ridiculous dreams? - Neither really. Occassionally one will have a weird one and they laugh about it. Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? - Milin Who makes the bed? - Maybe neither What time is bed time? - Any time past 11:40pm Any routines/rituals before bed? - It’s not a routine as such but many nights they have sex and wind up falling asleep after. Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?- Milin

Work:

Who is the busiest? - Kenma Who rakes in the highest income? - Uhh I guess Kenma Are any of your muses unemployed? - Neither, regardless of any job Milin may or may not have, being Kenma’s familiar is a full time job anyway XD Who takes the most sick days? - Kenma Who is more likely to turn up late to work? - Kenma Who sucks up to their boss? - Milin, if we make that an innuendo and consider familiar as his job title XD What are their jobs? - Well at first Kenma’s still a student but he does go on to be a streamer, and I’m sticking with the ‘being Kenma’s familiar is a full time job’ for Milin. Who stresses the most? - Kenma Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? - Not all the time, but most the time Are your muses financially stable?- For the most part, sometimes they’re a bit more stable than others.

Home:

Who does the washing? - Kenma Who takes out the trash? Who does the ironing? - I’m not convinced they’d own an iron tbh. Who does the cooking? - Maybe Milin more often but they both do - when they don’t order in anyway. Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? - Kenma Who is messier? - Neither one is massively messy, but Kenma leaves more stuff laying around the place. Who leaves the toilet roll empty? - Kenma. Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? - They both do, but Kenma more often Who forgets to flush the toilet? - Kenma Who is the prankster around the house? - Milin seems like it because anything he does is more obvious, but Kenma does more little pranks. Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? - Kenma Who mows the lawn? - Milin if they even have a lawn. Who answers the telephone? -  Kenma Who does the vacuuming? - Pfft. Vacuuming happens twice a year and they flip a coin. Who does the groceries? - Kenma Who takes the longest to shower? - Milin Who spends the most time in the bathroom? - Maybe Kenma, actually. He may not like water but if they’ve been messing around for hours he’ll need long baths to get clean XD.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? - Not really, but sometimes budgeting is a bit more important How many cars do they own? - None Do they own their home or do they rent? - When they’re at Kenma’s at least, it’s rented. Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? Do they live in the city or in the country? - Again at Kenma’s, in the city. Do they enjoy their surroundings? - They don’t particularly NOT enjoy them, but they’re not exactly attatched to the area itself. What’s their song? - They don’t have ‘a song’, but there are multiple songs Milin will jokingly call their song when they hear them, and all of them come from a playlist Kenma made so they could play it during sex and have some of the noise drowned out. What do they do when they’re away from each other? - Kenma goes to his classes, Milin hangs out at the house and reads a lot. Where did they first meet? - in Kenma’s bedroom. How did they first meet? - Kenma accidentally summoned Milin and couldn’t send him away again. Who spends the most money when out shopping? - Kenma Who’s more likely to flash their assets? - Milin Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? - Kenma Any mental issues? - Generally, not really, certainly not anything that isn’t managable, but Kenma does have anxiety that spikes quite badly in some especially stressful situations. Who’s terrified of bugs? - As much as I love the idea of big strong demon Milin being terrified of bugs, Kenma’s mild fear of them is probably the answer here. Who kills the spiders around the house? - Kenma, in panic when one scares him. Spider appears, AHH, splat. Their favourite place? - Kenma’s bedroom - everything happens there. Who pays the bills? - At Kenma’s place, at first his mum, then him. Do they have any fears for their future? - Yep, quite a few, mostly around what they’ll do when Milin has to go home and what that means for them and Kenma’s relationships with friends and family. Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? - Kenma tries, Milin succeeds. Who uses up all of the hot water? - Kenma. Lots of baths + an absolute refusal to bathe in any water less than scalding hot = no more hot water. Who’s the tallest? - Milin. Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? - Kenma. Who wanders around in their underwear? - Milin Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? - Milin What do they tease each other about? - All sorts of things, it often winds up sounding like a little argument from the outside, accusations of always leaving socks on the floor and the like flying about, but they’re playing. Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? - Kenma, and Milin probably uses it against him. Do they have mutual friends? - Only if Milin befriends Kuroo Who crushed first? - Kenma crushed and was in deep deep denial, Milin crushed and probably went right in with flirting. Any alcohol or substance related problems? - Nope. Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? - I think either could but it’d be very rare. Who swears the most? - I think they’d both swear a lot.

[cobaltcaster]

⚪3⚪Where to Conduct Your Spells

Location is important, but you must be practical and do what’s best for you. There are pros and cons to everything, and where to cast a spell is no different. There are those who will say there is nothing like the outside to spin your magic. However, if you live in the middle of downtown Los Angeles, Detroit, Atlanta, or New York, that is not a very wise choice. As we live in modern times of condominium life, the noise of speeding cars and construction vehicles outside may be too chaotic. In medieval times, for example, things like ambulances , airplanes, railroad trains, an automobile horns were not a concern. Therefore, think in the now and not about what our ancestors situations' were. Consider your specific location and determine what alternatives you have available. Inside It is easier to conduct spells inside, due to the fact that wind will not keep blowing out your candles, you have electricity for music, there is privacy and also safety. As you are accessing the powers of the Moon, try to find a spot when you can see the Moon, if possible. But above all, be comfortable. If there is a room in your home where you can see the Moon but you are not relaxed in that area, do not use it. As you are accessing the powers of the Moon, try to find a spot when you can see the moon, if possible. But above all, be comfortable. If there is a room in your home where you can see the moon but you are not relaxed in that area, do not use it. If you're conducting your spell during the day or are someplace without windows or any of you of the sky, use a representation of the Moon. A picture of the Moon works well ( feel free to draw your own ) or any item that represents the Moon. You can purchase a terracotta Moon decoration at most garden centers or make one out of cardboard or anything you have available. A Moon pendant or pin would do. Be creative; anything you feel that represents the Moon is perfect for you. Keep in mind, your privacy is a must. There should be no one else in the room with you unless they are directly participating in this ritual. If you have a large family and have a difficult time finding a place to be alone, you can always opt for the bathroom. It may sound comical, but I performed one of my best spells in the bathroom at a Holiday Inn as I was sharing a room with a friend who was not like minded. Outside To do a spell outside is excellent as you are surrounded by nature. However, the majority of people do not have acres of land where they can be assured privacy. Even in a park or on a bench, there is a probability of you attracting onlookers and people passing by. A backyard is workable, but if you have noisy neighbors, barking dogs, or a delivery person that may show up unexpectedly, it is not a good idea. Remember that you should not be trying to gain attention. Be discreet, and the power is more effective. If you are one of the lucky ones who has a privacy fence or lots of land around you, you might give it a try. The use of candles may not work if it is a windy day. Whatever you do, make sure you always feel safe. If you cast your spell in the evening and are afraid someone will sneak up on you, it will defeat the purpose. Why add stress to your spell? Usually a group of people is better for outdoor spells. Weigh the positives and the negatives and make a choice. I have perform spells outside as well as inside, and the results have not been more successful one way or the other. I must admit, though, if you have the opportunity to perform magick amidst nature, do venture to do so. The experience is very enchanting. Tree Magick For those who are able to utilize the wonders of the outside world in area that has many trees, you may want to conduct your spell under or near a special tree. It could be a tree you just get a "Good Feeling" from or a specific tree you seek has a special quality. I conduct many spells under an orange tree in my own backyard. Many cultures feel trees have creative properties and can dispel negative energy from a person without harming the tree. This is why sometimes just a walk through national forest or the local park can calm you. If you perform a spell near a special tree, take a moment and feel the energy from that particular tree. Thank the tree for the vibration that is giving you. Native Americans and other cultures believe that a tree embodies a living spirit. Don't be surprised, but hugging trees is not as uncommon as one would think. Sometimes a tree has a specific quality that we need ----- something that has been depleted within our own bodies. Hence, we have a need to put back that vital force. These are the trees we are usually drawn to, as they can rejuvenate us without taking it away from themselves. Example: If your interest in romance has been virtually zero due to conditions in your life like overworking, traveling, or just being without a partner, you may have the need to put yourself near or even hug an oak tree. The oak is said to increase sexuality! "Nothing ventured nothing gained." Following is a small list of trees expressing qualities and essences that are said to be of their nature. Ash: Peace, protection, prosperity, strength Birch: New beginnings, healing of wounds and burns Ceder: Courage, longevity, wealth, self esteem, purification Coconut Palm: Purity, honor, relaxation Cypress: Past life issues, comfort, protection; eases the loss of anything Elder: Transformation and change, peaceful sleep, self confidence Elm: Protection and meditation, stops slander Eucalyptus: Healing, protection, moon affinity Lilac: Activate chakras ( energy centers ), healing of back pain Lime: Divination, development, cleansing Magnolia: Fidelity, changes, relaxation and calmness Maple: Longevity, love, money Myrtle: Fertility, balance, youth, riches Oak: Increasing sexuality, luck, strength Pear: Clarity, energy, confidence, reduction of stress Pecan: Career issues and job seeking, money, discipline Pine: Prosperity, purification, health, exorcism Plum: Love and healing, self-confidence Polar: Astral projection, wisdom, mental healing, starting over Walnut: Depression, healing, heals infertility Willow: Wishes coming true, seductiveness, protection, energy to the sick The magick in trees does not have to be activated only when carrying out Moon spells, but can be accessed anytime as a natural wealth of refreshment to your body, mind, and spirit. Always thank the tree in silence with a nod of your head for allowing you to receive its special essential qualities and for absorbing your negativity. For the record, the tree is not harmed by this process ---- it shakes your energy away via the elements and is refreshed within seconds.

Which Direction to Face

Another gift of nature and an important factor to consider when initiating a Moon spell is the direction in which to face. Compass directions North, South, East, and West are very significant and casting the spell. By facing the proper direction, you are utilizing the vibration or energy that it offers. The powers of the four directions are a free gift of nature that is often overlooked. You can also think of the four directions as the Four Winds. You can “bring up the winds” from the north, south, east, and west. This means you will still stand facing a compass point, but will invoke the energy to blow toward you in the form of a gust. By not bringing up the winds, the flow of the vital forces are far more gentle, which is often necessary. It depends on the type of spell whether you only face a specific direction or you face that direction and also bring up the winds. One might compare it to an electrical fan with two speeds. The flow of air is coming from the same source, but you control how quickly or slowly it reaches you. Also, bare in mind that you most likely will not actually feel the wind that you have summoned. However, the invisible activity through the air will make its way to your spell area and serve you far beyond your realm of thought. There is magick in the air! For each individual spell in this book ( blog ), I provide you with the direction in which to face. I also suggest whether to bring up the winds or not and provide you the invocations on how to do so. In addition, for spells you create on your own, as well as for your own general information, I have included the following details about the vibration that emanates from each Compass Direction. NORTH corresponds to the element of earth. Face north for health issues, healing of the body, spirituality, increasing or developing your intuition, using some type of divination, for transcending the physical and trying to communicate with someone telepathically, and in asking for guidance from whomever or whatever you call your higher power. This is the most powerful direction. SOUTH corresponds to the element of Fire. Face south for love issues, relationships of any kind, creative and artistic pursuits, anything of a romantic or emotional nature. EAST corresponds to the element of air. Face east for career issues, strength, clarity, new business opportunities, financial matters and any endeavor requiring extra energy, healing of the mind, new beginnings. WEST corresponds to the element of water. Face for letting go and moving on, increasing self-esteem, forgiving yourself or someone else, cleansing, unconditional love. Special Note: When in doubt as to which direction to turn, face north, because it is the foundation of all things. If the compass direction you're using does not put you in the view of the Moon, do not be concerned. The energy of the Moon enters from all around you even if your back is to her. Try to face the other direction that I suggest in the spells as opposed to face in the Moon itself. The energy coming down from the Moon is all you need to acknowledge. For the best of both worlds, conduct your spell outside when the Moon is directly overhead or almost overhead. That way, you can see the Moon from any direction. Another suggestion is what I often do: Sometimes when I am casting a spell inside, I peak my head out the door for a few seconds to get a glimpse of the Moon to feel the connection but then come back inside and perform my ritual. Relax .... Moon vibrations can permeate through rooftops, mountains, clouds, rain, snow, and even the apartment of the people above you. [[ Back to List of Preparations ! ]]

[hildiraphillips]

Quest for the Magic Rock (2)

“I didn’t think your errand was going to take us so far out of town,” Hildira grumbled as she and Tristan journeyed some distance out of Strathmore, making for the foothills to the south. At least the journey out of the town was far less tense than the one into it- it seemed that the sensation of being watched had been Tristan himself and not some abomination still lurking in the area. 

“You see,” Tristan began as the undead and the paladin traipsed across a long-dead field. “I was once a artisan in life- a stonecutter. In death, my skills have not been sullied by my, ah- Condition. I left that lunatic death cult in Tirisfal to find what had become of my home. When I came here, I found I needed space for my work. I made my new workshop far away enough to not be disturbed by... interlopers. I imagine you know the sort. Bandits. Scourge. Idiots.” 

Hildira smiled at his assessment of the Forsaken, but otherwise nodded along, indicating for him to continue.

“My wife, she... had died only days before the plague came. Of natural causes- I searched for so long for a cure for her ailment, yet nothing could seem to stop it. When she passed, I barely had time to prepare for her burial before death itself was dumped on our doorstep. As you might have guessed, I... died around then, as well.” Tristan grew mournful, his tone somber as he spoke of death. 

He was quiet, and Hildira took it as invitation to speak in turn. “You have... my condolences,” she offered after a moment of considering her words. “For both matters. I am sorry you have been left in... your current state, as well.” It was an uncomfortable thing, to speak so directly to an undead, but Tristan seemed so harmless that Hildira felt bad for feeling in such a way. 

“So many have come in the years since then, to the town. Looters seeking things to take with them. Raving lunatics wanting to reclaim Lordaeron. Necromancers seeking more fodder for their armies. I have spent some time burying those who could be buried, hoping to hide them from the monsters that trouble them. Sometimes my efforts do not work- it makes me sad, but... what can I do? I was never a fighter in life, and even in death, I do not wish to become one. There was one particular person I was concerned with, however- one corpse I would not let them take, not as a mindless skeleton or... whatever I am.” 

As they crested the hill, Hildira saw it before her in the afternoon sun. From the dried and deadened ground rose pillars of smooth stone, and between them lay a path. “You built all this?” the paladin asked the undead- and he responded with a quick nod.

“Undeath leaves one with more time than I know what to do with. I have been here for many years, and am lucky my work has remained of little interest to those who pass through here.”

The pair walked along the stone path between the pillars until they came to stand before a statue of a woman- and a great stone coffin. She was clad in a commoner’s dress, yet her visage breathtaking regardless. In an instant, Hildira knew who she was- and who rested in the sarcophagus. Tristan laid a hand upon the box, and closed his eyes.

“You have carved a beautiful tomb for your wife, sir,” she said gently, a gloved hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Fit for a queen. And now I understand your years of toil. You’ve done her every feature justice.”

Tristan shook his head. “it hardly holds a candle to her as she once was. She was our town’s healer, you see. The light of my life. I miss her each day of this wretched existence... but I fear for her. I would not have her joined with me in the shadow of life that I live now. That is why I have kept this here. I hoped its power might ward evil away, just as touching the thing burns me. I knew one day, somebody would come for it- it is selfish of me to keep it here for her alone, but...” 

The undead man knelt as he spoke, and reached into a hollow cut in the sarcophagus’ lower portion, and retrieved a box. It was worn and old, with golden detailing on it. Though a little worse for wear, Hildira could feel what was within- the very relic she sought. Its power was so potent- no wonder Tristan had wished to keep it here. Surely, the Church would put this to good use.

“I don't think I can take this,” the knight said simply. “This is all that wards your wife from necromancy and evil. I will not, in fact. It would be wrong of me to take it back to the Church- they’d probably lock it away in a basement somewhere, or--”

“No. You’ve come so far for such a small thing. Surely, it must be of great importance, is it not? Relics like this are meant to do good... please. I know some other way of protecting her. This is why I have asked for your help. You are a mighty paladin- surely, if anybody can keep her safe, you will.” 

Tristan reached into the bag he kept with him, and withdrew a very old-looking book. “This was kept with your magic rock, in the old church. I brought it with me hoping it could help- of course, I found swiftly that I could not perform any of the magic in it. I cannot quite read it any more - my eyes - but it was in one of the earlier pages.”

Hildira took the book from him, and cracked it open. The old, leatherbound tome was slender, and the worn parchment it was made of described the artifact she sought in detail. Its history and believed powers were all told here- as was a list of rituals. As she scanned the pages, the paladin happened across what Tristan must have been referring to. 

It was a ritual of protection and consecration- among the most ancient of things meant to ward humanity from dark magics. No foul presence could cross a barrier inscribed into the ground by the Steatite, especially if it were reinforced with holy runes. No foul presence, though...

“Tristan,” Hildira began softly, peering towards him. “If I perform this, you will never be able to visit her again. I don’t think that is fair to take away from you either.”

Tristan ran his hands across the smooth face he’d carved into the stone, a tender touch that stirred even Hildira’s heart with sorrow. How could she part them from one another? 

“It is because I love my Catherine that I ask you to do this, paladin. It is selfish of me to ask any less. I have no idea if keeping the box here would have warded undead away forever- it did not stop me from coming here from time to time, after all. If you do this, my greatest fear will be eased. It is a cruel thing, to part with her resting place, but I will carry her in my heart for as long as I am around.”

“Your love, Tristan, is... pure and unsullied,” the paladin observed. “I am glad that you were not robbed of it. If this is what you ask, I will perform the ritual from this book- and travel here to make sure it is renewed every year. 

Tristan offered only a nod, and a few words. “We are not all monsters. I hope perhaps it will be remembered.” He murmured a quiet goodbye to his wife- and walked away from the stony tomb. 

The ritual took time to perform, and Hildira poured every ounce of her focus and effort into it- using the small, unassuming piece of talc to inscribe runes of holy protection and blessing at the entrance. So much strength rested in this small object- thousands of years old, yet blessed like one of the Lightforged themselves. She poured her own power into consecrating the ground as well. By the time she was done, no undead, no necromancer, nothing short of a powerful lich could cross this ground. 

Certainly not a simple, nearly-blind undead man, either. 

She and Tristan said their goodbye as the sun was setting, Hildira reiterated her promise to watch over Catherine’s resting place. As she and her horse rode south towards home, with her prize in hand, the paladin couldn’t help but wonder where Tristan would go next, his work fulfilled. She prayed that somehow, she might see him again. 

[myth01s]

[Iann met up with Tuah at We Knead Dough after opening hours after receiving a call about Tuah’s heart. Ritual was done and things were said before they share something unexpected yet not unwelcomed.]

Iann hadn't been expecting to hear from Kastina of all people, but she got a hold of him over the phone one day, for a talk about Tuah.  And coincidentally (except not really a coincidence because, magic) as they spoke, a package arrived at Stonefruit for Iann as well - from Kastina's coven.  Kastina invited Iann to open it up.  "Put me on speakerphone, I'll wait," she said in that tone of hers that brooked no argument from Iann.  He put everything else aside then, and took the package into the back office of the lobby to open it.

Inside was a couple fascinating-looking brass objects, a bundle of herbs, and a small bottle of what looked like ink.  Kastina talked Iann through the process of each of the items, before asking him if he could handle it.  Iann could - partly because it was Tuah so of course he could handle it, and partly because he'd never seen a ritual process like this before - for Kastina to entrust him, a mere human with it was not an opportunity Iann would pass up easily.

Once Kastina hung up, Iann took a few hours.  He wrote down the ritual first, then finished up work at the Inn before he gave Tuah a call. Iann checked his watch as he waited for Tuah to pick up.  "Hey! You busy!  What I mean is - it's pretty late.  I figure the bakery's closed now, if you're headed home I need to, ah, I gotta see you.  I got - I got something from Kastina."

The bakery’s opening had been a success, and it continued to be on the days afterwards thanks to the holiday season. It was the right decision after all for them to open the bakery just before the holidays, taking advantage of the festivities to sell their baked goods and delicious drink.

Tuah had been the last person to leave the bakery, checking the ledger balance once he had a quiet time to himself. He had told both Aedan and Ruby not to wait for him, since he knew he would be late. They protested, sending him text messages and pictures that said that they missed him already, but eventually let him be after he told them he’d be home much later if they continued to distract him. When Iann called him, he was still in his office, tucked away on the second storey. He furrowed his brows when Iann mentioned Kastina, putting down his fountain pen aside and leaned back against his chair.

He hadn’t heard from Kastina ever since his returned trip from Nevada, though admittedly it was his fault for not keeping in touch. It did make him wonder, however, the reason for Kastina to reach Iann instead of himself, wondering if she trusted him more than she trusted Tuah. It wasn’t an impossibility, Tuah figured, seeing that he was the indirect cause of the coven’s suffering under the Vermont’s hands. Despite the good grace that the coven had shown him, perhaps there was still lingering doubts and precaution, and Iann was his fail safe in the event that everything went wrong.

He tapped the table as he looked around the bakery, wondering if they should continue the discussion over the phone or meeting up. “I’m still at the bakery,” Tuah told Iann after a moment of silence, “would you like to meet somewhere?”

"Hm," Iann grunted, chewing on half of a candy cane as he considered Tuah's question. He looked at the open package on the desk before saying,  "I can walk over to the bakery in about 20 minutes.  I'll bring the stuff, you can take a look at it and tell me what you think hm?  Then we can go from there." Even as Iann spoke, he was getting up already, clambering into his jacket and finding a bag to pop the package into for easy transport.

Tuah trusted Iann's judgment that the ingredient wouldn't be harmful to the bakery, and agreed with the suggestion. "I'll leave the back door unlocked for you." He then made his way towards the kitchen, unlocking the door and moved to prepare a drink for both of them. When Iann arrived, the drink was promptly served to him. "So, what is this about then?"

"You look so tense," Iann greeted Tuah, the moment he stepped into the store.  He gave Tuah a crooked grin, and smacked his arm. "Relax, it's nothing bad. You got anything left to eat?" Iann looked around hopefully, as if he wasn't in a bakery.  Tuah was already making them something to drink, which Iann wanted as well.  And because this was a co-owned bakery and not just Tuah's alone, he didn't start raccooning around poking into things to find himself food.  Instead he remained in the designated area Tuah placed him, waiting patiently. "She sent me a package of some, ah, testing items.  For your heart.  See how it's doing. I'm like...a doctor."

“Should I not be?” Tuah arched his brow at Iann’s remark, though he forced himself to relax eventually. “There’s some leftover bread that I was going to give out if you want.” He admitted that he hadn’t stepped into the kitchen to cook, seeing that this was Maya’s domain, so to speak. But they were afterhours, so he figured Maya wouldn’t mind if he tried to cook something for Iann. He wasn’t quite sure if she had any ingredient for him to use, though, so Iann had to make do with what he had for now. “You should’ve rung earlier. I would’ve run by the nearby shop to buy some ingredient to cook for you.” He moved around the kitchen and gave Iann his food before taking his seat next to Iann. “Does she think the spell might fail at any time?”

"No no, no cooking," Iann laughed down the idea.  "Bread is great.  Alls I need is some butter and I'm golden.  Especially if you're making us something warm to drink."  Iann settled where he was, before answering Tuah's question.  It was along the lines of the questions he too had asked Kastina over the phone. "The spell is over.  What's around your heart is the result - but it's no longer powered by the coven, so to speak.  Some spells are done and released, and remain unpenetrable until a loophole is found around that bond.  Which in this case, means a loophole that the demon would be searching for. I guess that's why she called me - because I know how to check.  In general, anyway - I've never checked a golden heart of a vampire before, hence - " Iann lifted up the bag to show Tuah, pulling package out.  He didn't put it down on the kitchen tables (he knew enough about food safety not to contaminate Maya Parker's workspace) but he showed the contents to Tuah, holding them aloft.  "Witchery tools for checking."

Tuah’s hand automatically rested on his chest where his still heart was, feeling the hum of the coven magic in him. His brows furrowed together as he listened to Iann’s explanation, nodding every now and again in acknowledgement. He was aware of the nature of magic in which Iann explained to him, having been around witches more than any other species aside from his own kind in the past. So he understood the necessity to make sure the bond of magic remained strong. When the package was presented at him (he was grateful that Iann hadn’t placed them carelessly on the kitchen table), Tuah took great care to inspect each and every item inside it before looking up at Iann with a quiet sigh. “I suppose it’s something new for both of us.” his lips curled into a slight smile before nudging his chin towards the package. “Must we do it tonight or is there a specific date that Kastina had told you to perform these rituals?” He was willing to take more precaution if it meant it would stave off Nechrion’s influence over him. But he would need to tell Aedan and Ruby about it too. Not everything, just enough so they were aware of what was happening.

Remaining completely still, apart from his somewhat noisy breathing (result of a recovery from a cold that Iann refused to acknowledge), Iann watched as Tuah inspected the package, eventually slipping it back into the cloth bag once Tuah seemed done for now. "I suppose it is," Iann said with a smile.  "So I guess it boils down to if you trust me to do it."  He shouldered the bag at Tuah's question though, checking his watch again.  "I - no. I don't think we have to do it specifically tonight.  I guess by year's end would be fine, Kastina didn't give any deadline. Sooner is always better, of course.  Why?"

“Always,” Tuah answered, unwavering in his belief that Iann wouldn’t do him wrong, not when it came to this at least. He merely shrugged at Iann’s question. “Nothing in particular,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I do agree that the sooner we get this done, the better. If there are any loopholes to be found, we can deal with it before anything untowardly happens.” Tuah took another sip of his drink, turning to look at Iann with a soft smile. “Thank you for doing this for me.” He patted Iann’s knee, his lips curled into a small smile. “Kastina was right to trust you. I wouldn’t trust anyone else either.”  

"You'd trust others," Iann countered easily, thickly spreading butter on the bread. He took a bite, then gulped some of the hot drink, looking around the quiet kitchen.  He repeated this a few times, until the bread was consumed fully, talking between his bites. "Which isn't such a terrible thing, big man.  Having multiple people who you could trust with, ah, testing your heart."  He gave Tuah a puckish smile. "Literally or figuratively."

Tuah merely smiled at Iann remarks, patting his knee again before taking back his hand. “Perhaps,” he conceded, taking his mug in his hand, “but I still appreciate what you’re doing for me. It’s not often that I let anyone test my heart, so to speak.” He didn’t tell Iann that he didn’t trust others the way he trusted Iann, because there would be no point of it, or it could’ve been taken in a wrong way. They shared something unique that he didn’t with others, their bond and love for one another was strong and always changing along with them as they grew, both as individual and together. It would be the same with others as well, his trust was implicit and different for each and everyone of them. “Would you like another?” Tuah waved at the empty plate.

"Of course you appreciate it, you're Tuah. You wouldn't be you if you weren't polite about things," Iann replied wryly, smirking at Tuah. He wasn't getting what Tuah meant, although he could tell Tuah was holding something back.  When Tuah got this genteel (gentlemanly? There wasn't any other way to put it, in Iann's mind), Iann could recognize it as a veneer.  A genuine veneer - not all layers had to be fake, some could be quite honest - and one Iann accepted readily now.  He understood why, or at least he thought he did.  It made sense now and didn't frustrate Iann like it used to when they were still sorting their respective heartbreaks out. Now, Iann just had to fine-tune himself in response, like a watch.

Dusting his hands, he shook his head as he finished the snack.  "No, that'll keep me steaming for a few hours. So..."  Iann slowly motioned to Tuah, to indicate the ball was now in Tuah's court.  Iann had explained what the coven wanted and showed him the tools, and now Tuah could decide: now or later, and location.

“You say that as if it is a bad thing,” Tuah remarked, laughing quietly at himself. He wasn’t simply being polite; he didn’t have to when he was with Iann. But if Iann wouldn’t accept his thanks, then there was nothing he could do to change the man’s mind. “So,” Tuah echoed Iann’s words, brows arching at the unsaid question. He then heaved a quiet sigh as he mulled Iann’s question, his head tilted slightly to the side. “The winter solstice is coming up. Perhaps we can make arrangement to perform the ritual then?” The air of celebration would be heightened then, with witches giving offerings to the old gods. Magic would feel thicker in the air then too, so he hoped that would assist Iann in the ritual. As for location… “Do you require Nechrion to be present?” Tuah turned to look at Iann, “to truly test the extent of this spell?”

"It's not!" Iann protested, eyebrows raised indignantly.  He grinned then though, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "I'm the bad thing."  He stood up, tugging the bag in his hand as he waited for Tuah to make the decision.  "Winter solstice is Miguel's birthday, and he's back in town. I gotta hang with him," he said, scratching at his chin for a moment. "Besides, I'm not a witch, the magical auras won't change anything if I perform the ritual."  As for the Nechrion,  Iann frowned at the thought.  "I...that's probably not wise..." Iann said slowly.  Mostly because he kind of wanted to just to see how it would affect the ritual, but at the same time Iann realized that doing something just because 'he wanted to see' wasn't a good reason.  Not with Tuah, anyway.  "Too risky, even if it's more thorough."

Tuah laughed, crow’s feet crinkling at the edge of his eyes and laughter lines visible on his cheeks as he smiled mirthfully. When Iann got up, he did too, nodding his head when Iann told him that he would be spending time with Miguel during the winter solstice. “Are you throwing a party for him at the Inn this year too?” he asked, “I can ask Maya to bake him a cake if you like. I’m sure I can get you a member’s discount if you order a few other desserts as well.” Tuah tilted his head to the side again when Iann declined his suggestion, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Perhaps later then.” Like Iann, he too was curious what would happen if a real threat was actually present. Would the magic around his heart reacted the same way as it did in the other world when he and Ruby was in danger. Or the way it did when he and Iann was thrown into that other world where they met Annie. He rested his hand on his chest at the thought, rubbing it in circles out of habit.

"I got time now," Iann offered, watching the vampire's hand circling his chest, over and over.  He nodded towards Tuah, "And you don't need to sleep."  He shook his head about any party or cake.  "No...but thanks.  Themed parties and cakes, heh.  Sounds like he's 5 years old.  I'll never understand how 'birthday' works as a thing."

"I thought we're not doing this tonight," Tuah arched his brow when Iann seemed to change his mind. "I don't mind. Just need to let Aedan and Ruby know that I'll be running late." He moved his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s supposed to be about celebrating you being alive, as I’m told. Regardless the reason, it makes for good business.”

"I was leaving it up to you!  It's your heart, and your reservations about when you feel comfortable and all that," Iann reached forward and rapped on Tuah's chest.  He couldn't help but snicker.  "I'm clearly much more considerate with your comfort levels and personal preferences, when we're not together.  If we were together I'd already have gotten the ritual set up in my basement and brought you over as a 'surprise'."

"Ah, so you are hoping that I would say that the ritual should be done tonight." Tuah huffed a laugh. "I'm quite surprise that you haven't done so in the first place, actually. I'm so used to you taking charge and I would simply follow along." Tuah got his phone out and texted both of them, though he figured they were both fast asleep already as it was already too late in the night. Tucking his phone away, he turned to looked at Iann. "Alright then. Let's do this ritual. Shall we go to your basement?"

Iann chuckled more, swinging from the hips about like a kid who just got caught and was trying to charm his way out of things.  "I haven't, I swear!  I'm trying to be...aware...of other people's...concerns.  It's a thing!  I'm trying out a new thing," Iann nodded and hopped on the balls of his feet, quieting as he watched Tuah texting.  Seeing the way Tuah texted, brought a curly, unabated smile to Iann's face.  By the time Tuah was ready, Iann nodded, and reached for one more nearby bread, stuffing it into his pocket.  "For later," he said.  "Do you got your car here?  My van's still in repair.  Let's go back to Stonefruit.  Just drive around to the back alley, there's a door that leads straight down into the basement."  Iann nudged against Tuah, wiggling his fingers against Tuah's face.  "Not ominous at all."

“Of course you are,” Tuah said in a tone that he clearly didn’t believe Iann. He nudged at Iann’s side, clearly joking. He waved Iann’s concern away when he took more bread, encouraging him to take more since it was going to be given out anyway. “It’s in repair as well,” he told Iann, tucking his hands in his jacket. “I came here by my bike. You’re welcome to hop on it, and we can make our way to the Inn?”

"Let's hop on it, gimme a helmet," Iann said, reaching for it as Tuah handed it to him. He squished the helmet onto his head, and when he spoke again, his voice was muted.  "Hey! You and Aedan can ride bikes together. Just gotta teach Ruby how and get her one of her own, huh?"  Iann snapped his fingers and pointed at Tuah.  "Birthday gift for her.  You're welcome."

Tuah gave Iann his helmet since he didn’t bring a spare with him that evening, helping him fasten it on simply so he’d have a reason to touch the man. The engine roared as the ignition was turned on, before quietening into a loud purr. “She knows how to ride one, she simply prefers to walk or getting an Uber for herself.” Tuah turned over his shoulder with a slight smile, “Might buy her a car, however. She does share the same interest of old cars like myself.” A quick smile and then he drove them to the Inn. “After you.”

One they arrived, Iann motioned for Tuah to unfasten the helmet too.  They had the same idea, although neither of them would actually say it. But the small touches of familiarity were definitely something Iann wanted to keep going, whether he was aware of it or not.  "Oh c'mon!  The three of you, revving down main street together on your motorcycles - vroom vroom," Iann laughed as he made the motion, before he unlocked the door and trotted down to the basement.  The lights were motion-sensitive and came on as Iann opened the basement door.  He was still laughing though - because the thought of Ruby, Aedan, and Tuah, roaring down a street on motorcycles was kind of hilarious.  Funny enough, Iann could imagine Ruby most likely to do it out of the three of them. "Help me out," he said, getting right to work and handing Tuah some beeswax candles and a box of matches. "Light em and place them on the floor.  I'll show you where."  He got chalk out and cleared a space on the concrete floor, making notches in a circle for Tuah to put the candles.  Iann drew quickly, pausing only to blow his nose a couple times.  He lit the herbs that Kastina sent him, and placed them in a bowl on the east side of the circle.  All the while, he couldn't stop thinking about the look on Tuah's face - so subtle, so easy to pass over if one wasn't as discerning about Tuah Arjuna as Iann Cardero was - as the vampire had texted his new companions.  "So...tell me more about you three," Iann said as he prepped.  "Here I am conjuring up all sorts of wild imagery in my head, when I could just ask you.  How'd it all happen?  Last we chatted you were in Confusionville about even loving anyone..." Else.

Tuah laughed quietly as he followed Iann to the basement, idly taking in the interior of Iann’s makeshift laboratory of sort before turning his attention towards Iann. He grabbed the candles and the box of matches, lighting them up and placing them where Iann had instructed him to. At his question, Tuah took a moment to answer, helping Iann to clear more things out of the way. “Ruby asked me to accompany her to the manor, and… it just went from there, I suppose.” There wasn’t much to say about how it happened, though it felt like pieces slowly falling to their place. “Our conversation helped,” Tuah turned towards Iann, a smile on his lips. “It may not completely clear the confusion that I had at the time, but it helped me see things in different perspective. Perhaps that was all that I need. A perspective that isn’t my own. You know how lost I can be when I’m left with my own thoughts.”

Iann watched Tuah thoughtfully, running his tongue along his teeth.  "I do, yeah.  But...I know how much clarity you have when you're sure of something.  When you start to trust your own feelings."  It wasn't hard to talk to Tuah like this. Iann thought maybe in person, they'd more awkward, less candid and frank without the convenience of texting.  If anything, Iann was fascinated by the bloom in Tuah, a bloom that Iann could witness separately from his own feelings.

Tuah flickered his gaze towards Iann, a small smile on his lips at Iann’s remark. He didn’t have the confident to say that he was sure of his own feelings towards Aedan or Ruby, not as steadfast as he was with Iann. But he was willing to explore the possibility with them, despite his fear of losing either of them, or both. Tuah moved to place the last candle on the notch of circle and took a step back, taking it all in. “Well, I suppose I should enter the circle and start the ritual?” He looked at Iann for confirmation.

That Tuah didn't say anything to either confirm or deny was a response in and of itself.  Iann considered it, as he filled a flat copper basin with cold water, and placed it in the circle as well.  "Sit inside, in the middle.  Just enough so you can look down at yourself in the bowl of water's reflection.  I have to stand behind you, and ah..." Iann extracted the brass item from the package. "And use this.  She said it wouldn't hurt.  She said it would feel like someone knocking on your ribs, only it's knocking on your heart.  It measures the resonance and sound vibrations.  Demonic activity resonates on a different frequency from normal activity...granted I'm guessing the coven fined-tuned this to work with a vampire's frequency."  Iann waited until Tuah was seated, and then knelt behind him.  As he attached the tool to Tuah's back, he revealed his own thoughts and theories.  "Because I was thinking - I was thinking about demons, and belief.  And faith.  Not religious faith, just faith, the power it can have.  Demons have weaknesses."

Tuah entered the circle, folding his legs underneath him in a meditative position before he looked down at the bowl. “That makes sense.” When Iann tapping on the brass onto his back, he heard an echo in his mind and his chest, the magic around his heart reacting accordingly. It expanded until a golden hue started to surround his upper torso, before it returned to its place around his heart. It repeated each time Iann tapped on the brass, the result a constant throughout. Tuah kept his head bowed, his gaze towards his own reflection. The water rippled the same time as the echo, the burning sage focused the magic in the air around them to assist with the ritual. “I haven’t visited Nechrion after our returned trip, you know,” Tuah piped up after a while. “Didn’t want to risk it.”

Iann made a surprised, burbling noise as he watched the brass tool expand.  Not physically but it emanated an energy around Tuah's chest before it seemed to bury inside him.  Into Tuah's heart.  Iann tapped it again as Kastina instructed, and the gold spun around Tuah's chest again, like a neon light.  "Visited..." Iann smiled behind Tuah.  "Interesting choice of word, you make it sound like you opted to see it. But you're right - keeping away from it is the best course of action.  I - I'm glad we didn't bring it into this, too."  Iann was silent as he kept tapping, recording the measurements on his notepad as the pulses were translated into numbers on the brass tool's dial.  "Do you think...do you think there could be a way for..."  But Iann didn't want to go there yet, it was premature. "No, never mind."

A smile flitted across Tuah’s lips at Iann’s remark, chuckling quietly as his eyes flickered close. There was a sense of calm that surrounded him as the ritual continued, though he supposed it came from the familiarity of Iann’s touch on his back and not from the ritual itself. “I shall find another word to replace it later,” he told Iann, feeling as if his words slurring as thick fog started clouding his mind. As Iann spoke after moments of silence, it took him awhile to get out of the reverie, turning over his shoulder to look at the man with a slight frown, his eyes a little unseeing. Slowly, he reached out to Iann, needing something physical to tether him to the present. “What is it?” he asked, his voice sounded the same as the echo as the brass on his back.

"Nothing bad," Iann quickly said, seeing Tuah's frown and jumping to reassure him. "Look back into the water. After twenty pulses, if you only see your face in the reflection - no shadows, no flickers, so light motes, no warping - then it means the metal layer over your heart is still doing its job."  As Iann continued with the brass pulses, he continued though, since Tuah asked. "Y'know Ephram Pettaline required three seals to successfully keep the demon at bay."  Iann wouldn't mention Anaxis by name, not while they were currently checking for leaks of Nechrion.  "He couldn't have done it without help, without others.  Others who willingly wanted to help him, because they loved him.  In fact," Iann rubbed the back of Tuah's neck.  It was an idle motion, habitual, one Iann didn't even realize he was consciously doing.  He just knew Tuah liked to be rubbed there, and Iann liked it too.  All those strong muscles under his hand.  "It was magic and love, that helped put Pettaline's demon in its place.  I know your situation is different, I know you're not possessed by Nechrion.  It's trapped separately from you, but in a way that's - that's to your advantage.  Sometimes you gotta out-sneak demons to win - and it is about winning and losing, with demons.  No compromise.  And sometimes what a person considers genuine and honest, can seem sneaky to a demon." Iann paused then, as the brass tool suddenly dimmed down after twenty pulses, and detached from Tuah's back. "Like love.  Faith. Belief. Those sorts of things - and I'm not talking religiously."

Tuah did as he was told after a moment of searching Iann’s face, nodding his head and turning back towards the bowl. The thick fog in his mind made it difficult for him to concentrate, but he managed to pulled himself together to catch Iann’s words. It helped when he felt Iann’s warm and familiar touch on his nape, anchoring him further. “The sheriff inherited the demon, if I recall correctly.” If he was wrong, Iann would correct him. His voice sounded far away, his gaze unseeing towards the bowl as the water rippled in time with the tapping of the brass. “I suppose mine too, in a way.” Tuah was quiet as he mulled over Iann’s words in his foggy mind. There was a flicker in the bowl, a brief moment where his reflection was gone in between echoes before it reappeared again. “You told me Freddie offered him his own magic to seal the demon. That’s… that’s too much to ask from someone to do it for me. Even if they love me.” The echo stopped, and Tuah looked back at Iann. His mind slowly clearing and his gaze focusing, growing intense. “We need to call Kastina. There’s a gap in that spell.”

Iann's theories and suppositions flew out of the window the moment Tuah turned to him and said they needed to call Kastina.  His stomach felt like it dropped, and he swallowed hard, staring at Tuah. Searching his eyes and watching as the foggy, soft dazed look distilled into something far more focused and discerning.  The dreamer and the soldier - that was Tuah Arjuna, wrapped up into one person.  Iann stood up then, holding onto Tuah's hand to pull the vampire up into standing as well.  The ritual was over, and lingering in the circle after Tuah's report wasn't wise.  "What was it, what did you see?" Iann asked, throat dry and crackling.

Tuah reached out to grab Iann's offered hand and got up from his sitting position, brushing off the dust from his knees before addressing Iann. "I," he paused, his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to recall what he saw in the bowl. "I couldn't clearly see what it was. I can only see it's eyes staring back at me." Tuah shuddered, wondering if they had call upon something else with that ritual. "Anyway, I need to clarify some things with Kastina."

"Let's call her now. I'm sure she won't mind..." Iann glanced at his watch again but decided the call her anyway.  Even if it was the middle of the night, even later for Kastina in Nevada, Iann was sure she wouldn't protest.  Not when Tuah thought he say something in his reflection in the water.  Iann tugged Tuah out of the circle an quickly blew out the candles, then plopped the burning herbs right into the bowl of water, sending a sizzling ripple in the liquid. He leaned close to Tuah, holding up his phone where Kastina's contact number showed.  "You should clarify as soon as possible.  I don't want to be nosy about this but I think it's best we were - you were diligent."

Tuah merely nodded, following Iann's lead and rubbing off some of the chalk on the ground to make the circle incomplete. Even when the ritual was complete, he couldn't take any chance. Then they waited for Kastina to pick up her phone. "Kastina, it's Tuah," he didn't waste any time with greetings as soon as the line picked up at the other end. This wasn't a social call, after all. "I saw something in the water during the ritual, and I don't know if it's Nechrion." Silence, then curses mumbled through the phone. Kastina sounded like she hadn't gone to bed, even when it was late. So she must've been expecting their call, Tuah assumed. "The ritual that you asked Iann to perfom on me; it's not to test the spell, isn't it? It's more like... To test whether creatures are attracted to me because of it." Another pause of silence. "Am I wrong?"

Iann paced, nibbling on his nail as he watched Tuah talking on the phone.  But he paused when Tuah spun a theory of his own to Kastina. One that Iann hadn't considered, but it seemed like Tuah had been thinking about it for a while.  And why wouldn't he?  The vampire was the one carrying around that golden heart of his. He rushed in close to Tuah, motioning at the phone. "Speakerphone, speakerphone!" he implored Tuah, just as Kastina's crackling voice piped up to say, "Iann there too?  Yeah he might as well hear this as well." She then went on the explain that the golden was obviously not just gold, but a certain type of magical gold derived from a place that straddled this world and another.  Very rare, very precious.  It was meant to protect Tuah from the Nechrion, but it did have some side effects.  Kastina and her coven just weren't sure what the side effects would manifest as, until this ritual checked him out after 99 days. "It's a trade-off, like any sort of medication, especially when what you're trying to prevent is so much worse than the alternative," Kastina said.  "After all, a beacon doesn't judge.  It's not calling out only to bad things, or only to good things."

Tuah did as he was told; putting Kastina on loudspeaker and placing the phone onto the table so both of them could hear what Kastina had to say "A place that straddled this world and another," he repeated Kastina's words and heard her hummed in agreement. "You know the kind of magic my coven practice." Tuah nodded, looking at Iann. "Her coven considers themselves as guardians between this world and the spirit world. Maintaining balance and Guiding lost spirits towards the afterlife, and all that." He waved his hand in the air as Kastina mumbled at the end of her line, "That's to put it lightly." Tuah returned to the phone, before furrowing deeply and jaw clenched tightly. "Kastina," he addressed her, "what's the price that you've paid for this?" He placed his hand on his chest despite Kastina wouldn't be able to see it, "It's a trade-off, so something must be traded in order for your coven to give me this protection. What is it?"

"Don't even try," was Kastina's response, clicking her tongue.  "This isn't about the coven, Tuah!  Pay attention to what I'm telling you, because whatever happens in the future, you gotta be aware and make sure you know how to handle it. Should anything happen."

Glancing at Tuah for a moment, Iann leaned in to talk (read: shout.  He still didn't quite get the idea that he didn't need to shout over the phone anymore) to the witch.  "Kastina!  Do you think - I mean, I was thinking, if Tuah had a type of protection, a safeguard of sorts.  A bonding between people, people who want to look after him the way your coven looked after him - do you think that could make sure Tuah's beacon-heart won't harm him?"

"You mean like a coven? I don't think --"

"No, I just mean people who love him," Iann glanced at Tuah, almost apologetically for bringing this up to Kastina.  But he had to.  His priority was making sure Tuah stayed safe; and Iann knew Kastina felt the same way. She and her coven wouldn't have gone through those lengths to give Tuah a golden heart, if they didn't prioritize the vampire's safety.  "Their feelings for him, as a source of power and protection."

Tuah was about to protest before Iann interrupted, that he was paying attention. But that hadn't meant that he wasn't worried for her or her coven. Something this precious wouldn't have been given so lightly. There was always a price to be paid when one used such old and rare magic. He wanted to know, so he would be able to prepare himself should the time came to pay the price.

But Iann started spinning his theory, about tethering his soul once more to someone he loved. Tuah's eyes grew wide in alarm, making a noise of protest at the back of his throat when Iann looked at him. Once he finished talking, Kastina was quiet except for her quiet breathing. "That could work," she finally piped after a moment. "Like the one you had back in Nevada. That... I don't know what it is, but that's what kept Tuah safe, ain't it? From Artemis and Nechrion." He could imagine Kastina pacing in her room, mind storming with ideas on how to save him. Again. "You still have it?"

"We severed it," Tuah quipped, "last Christmas. Before our second trip to Nevada." His jaw set tightly before he forced himself to relax with a sigh through his nose. "I'll give it some thought. Until then, do you have any other suggestions?"

It was all Iann could do not to curl his arms around Tuah from the back, press his head against the back of Tuah's and just hug him.  As Kastina mentioned the tether she sensed in Nevada, it was all Iann wanted to do, was be close to Tuah and hold him.  Instead, Iann just closed his eyes, and didn't try to look at Tuah.  He was sure the vampire wasn't going to look at him. Not from the way he heard the vampire - who didn't need to breathe - forcibly sigh.

But Kastina's response, as much as it hurt, was also the answer Iann had been looking for. Between what Annie had said - she mocked them but Iann knew it was only mockery because of the truth behind Annie's words - and now what Kastina confirmed, Iann knew there was a hard kernel of truth in there.  Tethered. Tied.  However one wanted to put it.  Tuah needed a line, he needed something to hold him before he was flooded away and drowned by the monsters of his past.

Iann paced behind Tuah, as Kastina responded to the vampire's question.  "I know someone who weaves protection into the clothes they make.  It's like a wrap or binding one might use on demonic scars, only of course your heart ain't no scar and it ain't gonna attract other demons, just other things, good or bad."

"We - he lives in Soapberry," Iann spoke up.  "I think this town's got its own share of 'good and bad' coming its way, without more added specifically coming for Tuah.  I know the sort of wraps you're talking about, the demonic-ward ones.  But this clothes-maker...?"

"Everything has a price to pay,” Kastina reminded them.  "If you can make contact with this seamstress and have a shirt or shawl made for you, Tuah, it'll be the equivalent of throwing a lampshade on a lightbulb.  Dimmed and scattered.  It might also dull your mind though, like anti-depressant pills fog up a brain.

"Ultimately, what you gotta do, boy, is find some way to get rid of the Nechrion, once and for all. That golden heart of yours buys you time, but it ain't a permanent solution, you understand?  It just prevents that thing from poisoning your soul."

Tuah leaned forward, bracing himself on the table as he ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his face. "So my options are either being tethered to someone's soul or getting my mind dulled." Both options weren't favourable in his mind. He needed his mind to stay sharp, the fear of having his mind dulled by a charm was too much to bear. But he couldn't risk tethering himself to someone again, not when his relationship with Aedan and Ruby were still new. Even when he knew they would do it for him in a heartbeat, he still couldn't risk it. He had put Iann in too much trouble as it was. Not to mention that they were planning to start a family of their own, so Tuah couldn't possibly get in their way. "Is there a third option?"

Kastina sighed. "Our best option is to get rid of Nechrion. You know this. These options are only a temporary solution to your problem, Tuah. That golden heart too."

"I know," Tuah said, "and I am finding a way so Nechrion is locked out from this world for good." Tuah looked at Iann over his shoulder, watching him paced from one point to another, before returning to the conversation. "But the problem still stands with this magic around my heart. I assume that the magic will still be there even after Nechrion is banished?" At Kastina agreement Tuah continued, "I'd like to have all the options available to me."

There was a moment of silence before Kastina suggested, "We could remove the magic once Nechrion is banished." There was hesitance in her voice, which was confirmed when she rushed to explain, "but Tuah, you wouldn't be able to survive the ritual the second time. You barely survive the first time. We didn't even know that you -" she paused, cursing under her breath or away from the phone, Tuah couldn't quite tell, "you're going to choose option number three, huh?"

Tuah looked at Iann. "I promise someone that I would live. So no, I won't choose that option unless it is absolutely necessary." He then heaved a quiet sigh. "So we're back at option 1 and 2." he drummed his fingers on the table, brows furrowing deeply. "I'll need to think about this." He needed to discuss this with Ruby and Aedan, perhaps getting their opinion on the matter would help enlighten him. "I'll talk to you soon. Thank you for your help, Kastina."

Once the call ended, Tuah pressed his lips together. "Everything has a price to pay," he echoed Kastina's words to himself, placing his hand on his chest where his heart would be. He then turned to Iann once more. "So you're right," he leaned against the table, hands slung in front of his chest, "I do need a bond with someone to keep myself here."

"For it's worth, I'm sorry," Iann plainly stated, looking at Tuah, the heavy resignation on the vampire's face.  "That you have to depend on others for your salvation, I - I don't think that's fair."  Not that Iann particularly dealt in 'fairness', but it was one of the few times he decided to firmly point his moral compass, in the hopes of providing some words of understanding for Tuah.   Iann leaned against a stool, hands curled on his thighs as he pondered. Iann also knew that Ruby and Aedan wouldn't hesitate to make the bond with Tuah, because he already guessed that they'd to anything for Tuah, including die for him.  All those grand romantic promises.  Iann knew those - he'd gotten caught up in them too, when he was with Tuah.  With Tuah, Iann had forgotten that relationships for him needed to be work, not only the romance and idealism.  That might be good for others, but he was always a contrary fool.

They had just been so happy, it had been hard to imagine anything otherwise.  Until, of course, that 'otherwise' happened and brought them both crashing down to reality.

"You do have some time," Iann offered, trying to think pragmatically. "Maybe the beacon won't be so bad in the end, maybe like a critter here, a poltergeist there, one every six months that you just gotta deal with.  And maybe in a few years, we'll figure out how to banish that Nechrion once and for all."  Iann said 'we' without hesitation.  By this point, Iann figured Tuah knew that Iann had no intention of abandoning Tuah's demon problem.  It was perhaps a little arrogant, but Iann tended to err on the side of arrogance when it came to his demonist goals.  "Maybe in a few years, you and your gang can figure some more shit out.  You're still way in the early stages of your relationship to start throwing in the heavy shit.  No point in trying to make decisions just yet when you don't even know what the future holds for you three.  You got time.  Now we just know what to expect."

Tuah huffed a laugh, his gaze fell onto the floor as a mirthless smile painted his lips. "Unfair for me or to others that I have to depend on?" he wondered aloud, shaking his head. "If it must come to that, then there is no point of me to deny it." Since when was life ever fair, he thought. No matter how much he liked to believe that there was a reason for everything that had happened to him, the universe never cared for someone as unimportant as him, nor that it ever would. He was an idealist, sure, hopeful to a fault at times. Because how could he not, how could he be otherwise. But he also knew when to remind himself of the ground that he stood instead of the sky over his head.

It was why they worked so well, Iann and him. Iann contradicted and complemented him in ways that no one could. Not many people had come close to what Iann meant for him. Which was why their separation had hit him hard. Even now, standing so close to Iann, made him rethink of the choices that he made and what could have been's. But such thought were a dangerous territory to wade through, even for a flickering moment. Not when he had others who cared so deeply for him.

Tuah looked up as Iann tried to be pragmatic for him. The notion that Iann would be with him throughout all this made him smile, a small private one that he reserved only for Iann. He heaved a sigh and pushed himself away from the table, sauntering towards the man. For a moment, he simply studied his face; remembering the laughter lines and worried frown on Iann's face. "Perhaps," he conceded, his smile softened. He hesitated for a moment, before letting his hands cupped Iann's face. "Where would I be without you, hm."

"Well you could deny it, but that wouldn't help anyone," Iann said with a bit of wry levity.  "Hey, you know.  The situations are very different but I've never seen or understood the whole 'power of love' vibe until I was helping Pettaline deal with that demon of his. You know in the initial stages, Ruby was a part of that journey to silencing that demon once and for all. She knows what it's like, she's no dummy."  And as for Aedan, all Iann could think of was that whole O'Malley debacle, and the way Aedan seemed to interact with his spirits.  "Everyone's got things to deal with, that's no surprise.  But dealing with things together will always bring a stronger front than dealing with it alone."

The silence spilled out between them like a comforting blanket, a silence that Iann didn't mind in the least.  To share space with Tuah was enough, familiar and established enough that it didn't feel strange or uncomfortable.  Somehow, they'd made it past uncomfortable together.  He snorted suddenly.  "I so hate that Annie was right, though.  Goddamn her, even dead, she still gets one up on me."

Standing up, Iann put his arms around Tuah's shoulders, the only way he knew how to respond to Tuah's words.  It was an elegant expression of his love, a love that Iann knew Tuah had for him as well. It was mutual and unquestioning, and everything Iann had wanted from Tuah regardless of how their love affair turned out.  "You'd probably be dead," Iann said blithely, then laughed.  "I'd be dead too though, so we're even."  He leaned back, and gave Tuah a small, affectionate kiss.  "C'mon big boy.  Let's get back up to the rest of the world."

"No, she is not. But this isn't something that she had experienced before." Tuah was aware of Ruby's involvement in Ephram's situation, though he figured there wasn't that she could do since she was human back then. Not when Ephram had Freddie's fairy magic to help him heal and contain Anaxis. Nechrion wasn't contained in his body but his influence would be apparent without the magic around his heart. If it wasn't for Kastina's coven and Iann.

Iann's words rang true; dealing with difficult things would always be easier when he had a support system. He should learn by now that he had friends that he could rely on. Loved ones that would do anything for him. But old habits were hard to break, and he was still trying to unlearning these lessons that were drilled into him over and over again.

He huffed a laugh at Iann's remarks, both about Annie and their potential outcome without one another. The kiss was unexpected but not unwelcomed, and Tuah lingered around Iann's lips longer than he would like to think. He smiled. "Aye, let's go back to the world, hm." Tuah stole another kiss from Iann once more, and walked upstairs, to the cold winter breeze and the burden of carrying a heart of gold, albeit a magical one.

END.

[melissatucker]

Magical Ideas for Friday the 13th Full Moon

Good Morning Witches!!! Are you excited yet for this Friday! I know I am, I am practically vibrating! I know some people report issues with Friday the 13th (and Goddess bless our nurses and first responders because this might not be a good night for them), but I have always had the very best of luck on Friday the 13th and then to partner it with the full Harvest Moon is just a dream to me! I started sharing ideas I found on my page and had a lovely lady ask if I had any simple spell ideas for the full moon. Her question got my brain working into overdrive and I came up with a small handful of ideas. I hope everyone gets the most out of this full moon so I am sharing my ideas here for anybody that is looking for inspiration and are running low on time. As always I try and keep my workings super simple since I am a rather simple creature at heart. So cast away my Witchy brothers and sisters!!! And thank you to the lovely lady on my page for starting my brain on this creative track! It was fun and I appreciate the inspiration you brought me!

Ok so the first one I take absolutely no credit for, it’s from a Facebook page Luna and the Moon. In this you take 13 pennies, chant over them the following verse:

“Today I cast for money luck, As it is lucky, it will work today,

With these Pennies, I display, The money is on its way.

The 13th is lucky, on the Witches day.

These 13 pennies, will bring it my way.

This will harm non in anyway,

As it is lucky, if done on this day”.

Once the chant is said burry the pennies. Remember that in magic the intent is everything. You can have all the right ingredients and if your heart isn’t it in the spell will fall flat on its ass. So if you don’t have pennies because the Canadian Government phased them out ages ago, go with what you have. If you have dimes use them, nickels use them, quarters great! If you have currency from another country go ahead and use that. Mixed denominations, go for it! What really matters is the intent behind the spell!

A fun twist on this spell you could do could help not only yourself but 12 others! Charge slightly larger denomination coins such as loonies and toonies. Take the coins and stand under the light of the full moon. Hold them in your hands so that each coin absorbs the moonlight and chant something like:

“Money Flows

Income Grows

Blessings for me

Blessings for thee

Lucky Friday 13

Bring us money

With Harm to None

My charm is done”

Repeat the chant as often as you feel (or make up one that suits your personal style better). As you hold them visualize anybody who touches that coin being showered with abundance (including you!). Then the next morning give away 12 of them, either to friends or perhaps in charity drop boxes. You can even use pennies for this and give them as gifts to friends whenever they need some luck in their lives.

If you are working to improve yourself a super simple idea is to take out a pen and paper, if you want you can fancy this up with glittery paper, stickers and coloured pens. Once you have picked out your paper and pen think of thirteen things that you are working on improving in your life and write out 13 affirmations for those areas that you want to improve on. For example “I love healthy food and feed my body the fuel it needs” “I am excellent with money and love to add to my savings” “I love, I am loved”. My favourite author for affirmations is Louise Hay and her affirmations always seem to be direct and to the point (You can find some of them here if you are stuck looking for an affirmation: https://www.louisehay.com/101-best-louise-hay-positive-affirmations/ ).

Once you have selected your affirmations write them out nicely on your chosen paper. Take it outside under the light of the full moon, read each one to yourself and focus on the outcome of the affirmation. How will you feel with this affirmation coming true? Healthier, stronger, happier? Focus on each one for a moment then read the list aloud to the moon. Take your list inside and put it somewhere you will see if often. Try to say each affirmation at least 13 times a day. On the next full moon you can either keep the list and keep working on it or burn it and scatter the ashes to the wind.

One of the main themes of fall is releasing, letting go of the old so that we can rest and then begin anew. If there are some things in your life you want to let go of, such as bad habits or even people, you can do a short ritual to release them. Go to your nearest tree that is losing its leaves. Gently take 13 leaves that are ready to fall (or pick up 13 leaves off the ground). Take those leaves and using a marker write on each leaf 1 thing you are looking to release, be specific (like I release my addiction to double chocolate brownie ice cream). If the leaves are small just write one or two words that represent the thing you are releasing. Under the light of the full moon go to a crossroads (where two roads intersect). Stand as close to the center as you safely can and take each leaf one at a time. States something like “under the light of the blessed moon, I release the old to welcome the new” and then read each leaf. Then let the leaf fall to the ground and state “I release you”. Once all 13 are gone walk away and don’t look back. When you get home, if you wish, write down 13 things that will replace the 13 things that you have released.

And don’t overlook some of the simplest magic you can do under the moon. Make a batch of moon water charged under the full moon, then you can anoint anything you wish with this magical night’s power. Just fill up a jar with water, take the jar outside and make sure it is under the light of the moon. Hold it in your hands for a moment and thing of the moonlight charging the water, filling the water with its power and magic. Then leave the water out for like an hour. Bring it back inside, keep it somewhere handy and then you can use a few drops here and there. If you are a bit of a candle junkie like me and have 13 tea lights handy take them outside under the moon light. Let them soak up the moonlight and fill them with your intent that they are blessed and lucky. You can keep them for a special occasion or gift them to friends!

This full moon would also be a great day to make up or empower good luck charms. If you have handy a family good luck charm, like say a horseshoe take it under the moon and state what luck you wish it to bring to you. If you don’t have a family luck charm you could easily empower your favorite necklace or ring to bring you good fortune. Another things you could do is make up a good luck sachet or talisman for your home. Herbs such as Rosemary, Lavender, Cinnamon, Basil, Clove, Chamomile, Mint, Thyme and Ginger are all known to bring luck, good fortune and peace into your life and most can be found by raiding the spice rack! A lot of grocery stores also sell the plants for these so if you want you could pick one or two to purchase, bless it on the full moon and then let it grow!

If you just want to soak up the energy why not take a page from a friend of mine. She is going to curl up in a blanket, lay under the light of the full moon and have a good meditation session! You could also read some poetry or moon lore. A good one for the full moon would be something like the Charge of the Goddess. You could perform a Drawing Down of the Moon to soak up this amazing energy and reconnect with the Goddess. Grounding and centering would also be a powerful exercise to do on this night!  Bring out all your gemstones, ritual tools and statues, give them all a good clean and then set them under the full moon to recharge!

Whatever you decide to do this full moon I hope you take the time to soak up the energy and dream of a bright future!

[speciesofleastconcern]

Perhaps you’d like to see this blog post from 16 years ago, from just before I created Urban Nature Walk

The Joy and Pain of Alcohol and Bicycling Don't worry: I didn't drunkenly crash my bike. I did spend a good deal of yesterday riding around with my trailer attached. First I gathered firewood. Then I brought it to my (ex)wife's house. Then, since I was in the area, and I had the cargo capacity, I decided to buy a case of Three Stooges Beer. I realize, reading back that last sentence that this is some kind of warning sign. In my defense, feebly, the liquor store near my (ex)wife's house has great sales on beer. (Gavin, Barb, I'm asking you to back me up on this) A case of Three Stooges Beer is ten bucks, and it beats Bud or Rolling Rock any day. But it's still heavy in a bike trailer. Then I stopped off at Flyrabbit to pick up my snarky sign for Critical Mass that I had made earlier. "Welcome back students! Leave the car at home!" it said. There was a bunch of stuff there that for reasons of not making a long story longer I won't go into now, suffice it to say it made the trailer even heavier. Then I bought a bottle of wine to bring to the ritual planned for later that evening. The trailer was even heavier. I emptied the trailer of everything but the empty beer box and the wine, because I would need those later. Then it was off to Critical Mass. It was joyous. If anyone reading this hasn't participated in one, I insist that you do. Try it just once, you probably won't even get arrested. It's very safe, especially if you stay in the middle of the pack, slow enough for anyone to keep up, and you can space out and just watch the city go by if you want. I was doing just that as we passed near the Christian Science Center, where they happen to have a peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus) nesting box. I caught the silhouette of a bird high above, at one point going over the Prudential Tower. I realized it wasn't a gull, but probably a raptor. I watched for a while and it just rode the air currents most of the time, but just as I started to lose sight of it the bird folded its wings slightly and dove. I decided to hold off from checking off "peregrine falcon" on my bird list for now, so I can go back with binoculars and indulge myself in some quality falcon watching. When the Mass got to Allston it was too early to head to my (ex)wife's house, so I stopped over at the Model for a couple beers. I noticed they had their certificate up, boasting the title of "Best Dive Bar" for 2003 according to whatever obnoxious magazine polls the college students for such things. The air was oddly clean in the bar, and patrons would get up from watching the Red Sox to run outside to smoke cigarettes. I really never thought the Model would cave in to the city's smoking ban. Two Sam Adams later I headed up to my (ex)wife's house. The house that we lived in together is passing out of friendly hands, probably forever. Everyone was moving out, but there was still stuff in there from tenants who hadn't been there for more than a decade. I filled the beer box overflowing with the contents of a filing cabinet and put it in the trailer. RAchelle (that's my (ex)wife's name) gave me a box that had been taped shut probably six years ago. Scrawled in magic marker on the top was my handwriting: "VERY miscellaneous." I opened it against RA's advice, and shut it again, perhaps for another six years, perhaps forever. I put it in the trailer. We had our ritual, in the back yard. This tiny yard, now even more overgrown with weeds than when I was its steward, has hosted many witches' circles. We performed what was probably its last. We proclaimed our intention to divorce, and cut the ribbons that had handfasted us. We cast the ribbons into a fire that burned in a pit dug into the earth of the city, fueled by wood collected in a city park. We sipped from a bottle of wine, as the ceremonial goblets, as well as all the drinking glasses in the house, had been packed. Some friends came over, and I got drunk. The trailer was so full that I duct taped and bungi-corded the contents to keep them in. I somehow dragged the thing home. This is still all yesterday (though if the story gets any longer it's going to be the day before yesterday). I set my alarm for 5 A.M. so that I could walk the dog before leaving him alone all day. The BBC was yelling into my ear with a crisp British affect when I woke up. I wanted it to stop but I couldn't figure out what to do. I reasoned that I turned it off, that I would fall asleep or better, die, and then no one would feed the animals at work. If I didn't turn it off I would continue to be in agony. I turned the volume down and that helped. I asked the dog if he wanted to go for a walk and he raised his eyebrows sleepily in a way to suggest "Are you kidding me?" Then I realized that I didn't remember putting my bike away when I got home--I remembered coming home and taking the dog out to pee, but what had I done with my bike? I went downstairs and found that I had safely put it, trailer and all, into the basement. I just hadn't remembered it, is all. Dumbass. So I went back to sleep for an hour, BBC chattering all the while. I convinced Charlie to go for a short walk, even though all I wanted to do was lie down somewhere. Sore, swollen leg muscles whined at me. A fourteen-mile bike ride was just ahead of me, followed by a full day of work and a fourteen-mile ride home. As it turned out, the ride to work was uncomfortable, but not agony. Hangover symptoms are fascinating to me. I was nauseous, but my stomach was empty and yearning. I'm sure I looked a sight, with my mouth hanging limply open and my bags under my bags under my eyes. At about mile twelve there's a convenience store. I thought about chips or donuts and settled on a Reese's ice cream bar. It was the best ice cream ever, at that moment; the perfect mix of substantial but soft, sweet and salty. The highlight of my day at work was either successfully administering eyedrops to a great horned owl or the birth of a bunch of really really cute piglets. I wasn't looking forward to riding home. A long day of cleaning dirty cages doesn't whet the appetite for a sweaty self-powered commute. Plus I was hungry again--hungry in a way that I only can get when I'm hung over. Not that low-blood-sugar hungry that makes a body cranky with their significant other over nothing, but a head floating above a void that needs filling hungry. The only solution: more ice cream. I went to Dairy Joy and got a Javaberry (coffee and blackberry softserv swirl) cone with chocolate dip and ate it lustfully. The rest of my ride was awesome. An ice cream cone may be the perfect bicycling fuel. Tons of sugar for immediate energy, starchy cone stuff for the continuous burn, and a monstrous amount of fat for the long haul. I got over 30 mph for only the second time ever, and despite hitting way too many red lights, I still managed the trip in just about an hour. If you are reading this at work--Get back to work!! I apologize for taking so much of your time. Now I can enjoy a quiet night of not moving my legs much and drinking Three Stooges Beer.

[draumrfold]

Doomvault: Kiss of Death

We’ve stopped to take a rest, finally. I feel very drained of Ki, after BoBo regained some consciousness he managed to construct an illusion that provided shelter for us, a safe place to rest. I do wish it was a bit more spacious, I would like to try and keep a good amount of distance between myself and these people, as to not further intrude on their kindness. Throughout our rest I could hear Maliadin softly chanting prayers, luckily I was able to block him out and focus on my own balance for my meditation. I also am able to fully sleep and fully recover from having my life force sucked from me. I feel within myself my full strength return. 

When we are finally ready to set off again, BoBo informs us part of his soul is missing. His friends don’t even question what needs to be done, so we all set off to perform a ritual of some kind to restore him. Magic isn’t my strong suit, but the idea of being able to spit a soul is fascinating, just as is how one might put a soul back together. So while I’m not thrilled at the idea of spending more time in this place, I am very intrigued to witness this ritual. 

We used what they are calling a “Black Gate” to get to the chamber they needed to perform the ritual in. Using the gate was a sensation I’ve never experienced before, it wasn’t like when I was shifted in the plane tear, this place has so many secrets to learn. In the chamber, we had to wait while BoBo reverse engineered the ritual when he was done he hopped up on to one of the stone slabs in the massive chamber. He held the scroll out to Talrean who looked less than enthusiastic that the burden had fallen to him, but accepts the scroll. BoBo lays back on the stone and enters a trance state, soon into Talrean’s reading of the scroll we can see BoBo astral projected soul floating above him and slowly it drifts down on to his body and re-merges with his body. 

BoBo slowly opens his eyes, and motions for Talrean to step closer, Ashrah also takes a step closer, when suddenly they both let out gasps and retreat- curing BoBo and his noxious gases. BoBo sits up laughing, and joking, all was once more good it appeared. BoBo I am learning is something of a jokester, which while amusing, there is also a time and a place. I am not sure being stuck in a dungeon after dying and putting one's soul back together is that time or place. 

We continue on to the next area, I have lost track of not only time but also how many chambers and hallways we’ve been through. I merely follow the group, somewhere near the back. It seems Maliadin did not find solace last night as he has gone from leading us to being in the back with me, if not trailing behind us. 

While I trained and studied I never really got into the whole worship thing, perhaps that is why I never truly felt at home in the Temple. I’ve tried prayer and worship, for whatever reason it just doesn't seem to click with me, not the way my studies of death have. Maliadin, in my humble opinion, could greatly benefit from meditation, and inner reflection, as I have found all true inner growth will make you feel uncomfortable, disturbed, or scared for a little while, and that’s ok, the feeling will pass. However Maliadin has seemed to give into fear and pain, he lets death have power over him, rather than embracing and accepting it. As long as he does that, he will never be the mighty warrior he projects to be. 

When we come to face our next enemies Maliadin has fallen so far behind us that I of all people have to lead the charge. I’m uncomfortable with this because I still don’t know the extent of these peoples powers, nor do I know if they will have my back. Trust and loyalty is earned, I recognize I must give them a chance, but I am also cautious about it. 

When we enter the chamber a mage casts a poisonous gas over us, through my training, I have become immune to such things, it would appear my comrades have not, however. I know there is a wall of enemies in front of me, so I take a running start and with all my might I rush into one, knocking it backward and causing a disruption to their wall. I manage to get outside of the gas and unleash a series of blows into the foe in front of me. The other enemies circle around me and I find Ashrah next to me, I assume the others have found their way into the room, blocking a path to safety, I do the only thing I can think of that might give me an advantage in this situation. I start a booming chant in a voice that is deeper than what I should be capable of making, this eerie chant strikes fear into most of the enemies around me, as well as Talrean and Sylvanna. This gives me not only me but all of us an advantage that we’re able to defeat everything and release a Dark Elf. I’ve never seen so many different kinds of elves in one setting before. 

In the next chamber have a similar fight and I see a beast so big and ugly, I’m told that it is an Orc. I don’t think we have Orcs on my plane, I’ve never seen or heard of them before and this one looked very fierce. I am told they are not that intelligent of beings so BoBo came up with a very easy way to communicate to it not to attack us. It went well enough, he looked diseased but wished for no help and he went on his way. 

It also occurs to me that we’ve watched every other being we have rescued (that was friendly) drift off through the white doors, without having to open them. I too was rescued, so I go over to a door and cautiously step through the door to the other side, astonished, I step back through. Cursing all the elven sware words I know in dismay. Why does this stuff keep happening to me? First plane shifting now I can walk through doors. Ashrah says she can’t sense any curses, and I can feel my Ki and lifeforce, nothing seems out of place. I then purpose that this would mean I am able to traverse anywhere in the dungeon, which means I could take us right to the phylactery chamber, and save us all some time and energy. Unfortunately, the others explain to me why that wouldn’t work, and I’m a bit disappointed that this weird power cannot be of more use. 

In the final chamber that had a Shrine of binding in it, and after the fighting, we see the creature has become a zombie and put it out of its misery. We also take a short rest here, where BoBo tries to tell me jokes. I don’t really find them amusing, but I appreciate the effort. We (BoBo, Talrean, Sylvanna, and I) end up having a really odd conversation about Humans, then Tea, or rather the lack of tea, and finally the subject of pets, which I actually felt comfortable enough to introduce them to Sly- I really need to find some proper cheese for her, doubt this will be the place for that though- they are all rather astonished I keep a mouse in my pocket. It can’t be that strange. Perhaps pets aren’t as widely accepted on this plane. I’m kinda surprised she was able to plane swap with me as well as she has. I haven’t observed any difference in her behavior. BoBo, upon learning I have a pet, offers me a ring of Animal Influence so I might communicate with Sly. While part of me would love to accept such an amazing gift as to further my research, another, stronger part of me feels it is not practical for me to have such a thing, and I politely decline the ring, at least for now. Maybe I will barrow it later when I have time to record and properly interview Sly, I’ll have to think about it. 

After the conversation and our short rest, I do feel more at peace and in balance with these people. As though our Ki are aligning. Something I never really felt with Maelin and Aura. Perhaps another sign this is the plane I am truly meant to be on, or at least these are people I was meant to meet. Off of one of the last monsters we defeated we find some Bracers of Defense that the group says I can have, I am humbled they would allow me to have anything we find here. 

We continue on through the chambers, and face down more mages, zombies, and yetis, it's very tiring work if I’m honest, but we’ve rested enough that I am able to keep my Ki up, also Maliadin has decided he’s done moping and has caught back up with and is fighting as normal now. I am very glad the pressure is off of me to lead us into battle. I did fine, admittedly, but moving forward it’s probably best for either Galadin or Maliadin to lead us. 

We enter the phylactery chamber, finally, this is what everyone has said is our goal. I am very happy to finally be here. There is no immediate danger from what we see, and start work on entering the small temples, after we get the first one open, we see BoBo be flung out of the temple and into a large pit of a tar-like substance. Which is of course home to monsters, a giant eye emerges from the tar pit after we’ve pulled BoBo out, and unleashes this incredibly painful sound that knocks me unconscious. 

While I lay there unconscious I feel life and death all around me, the flow of Ki in perfect balance, with my mind I reach out and touch the life flow and feel breath come back to my body and my eyes open. I pull myself up with help from my quarterstaff. “Well, that’s fascinating,” I think to myself. 

While I studied the Way of the Long Death I remember reading a story from what I thought at the time was a wack a loon monk who claimed he had mastered death it’s self and was able to feel life forces and the Ki that flowed not only within himself but within others as well. My master thought this guy was really onto something, and so together we would meditate feeling the Ki within us, sensing our life forces and life forces of others but never being able to feel death or to be able to manipulate the Ki of others. This is the first time I’ve been able to sense death, truly feel its power, and the true power of life. The flow of Ki is reinvigorating. I guess that monk wasn’t as crazy as I thought. I will have to review the notes I made on his work later. If only there was a way to let my master know the progress I have made. He would be so excited, I hope one day to at least be able to send a message to him. 

The creature continues to knock me unconscious, and I continue to harness the power of death and I end up running weird circles around the temple, that Talrean has decided to perch on. Weird ass elf. I sprint in, punch and attack, and run back to safety because by this time I’m just assuming I’m going to be knocked out. The next time I awaken it’s to Ashra shoving a health potion into my mouth. I mumble that if she had just waited a moment I would have come to on my own. She shrugs and helps me to my feet. We clear out the rest of the floors of the phylactery chamber without any problems. 

Upon finishing our work a vision appears before us, a crackling human, who is just talking crazy, he opens a portal and pushes us all through. While we are going through the portal I hear from somewhere beside me Talrean cursing him for not rewarding us properly. What an odd time to be concerned with such things. This also means I’ve been plane shifted, yet again. I doubt it to home. I will just have to wait and see where we land. 

[fgodestinyawakenings]

FGO Destiny Awakenings: CDD #1

*Inside the Throne of Heroes* Announcement: Master Fujimaru Ritsuka and Master Fujimaru Ritsuko has requested for a Servant to aid their next Singularity. RNGesus: *nods* RNGesus: RNGesus: Seihai-kun. Could you please give the two young Masters the infamous bickering yaoi married couple to them? Seihai-kun: *nods; salutes*

AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Horrible RNG luck summons two eternal rivals together

“H…. Holy crap, this is amazing!!” Ritsuka’s blue orbs glittered as he took strides around inside the chamber. 

The first place after offering their respect to the late Director was towards the Chaldea Summoning room. 

Familiar black-green room with a familiar bright blue hologram of a magic circle in the midst. 

Ritsuko glanced around in admiration and quickly recognized, “Isn’t this the place where the Doctor communicated with us back inside Fuyuki?” 

Mash stopped beside her and acknowledged, “Yes, it’s the same as back there, Senpai. Not alone this is where the summoning of Servant takes place, it’s also where we deliver the rations supply to Master in a mission.” 

“Even so… It’s such a huge place to summon the Servants,” Ritsuka pointed out while glancing when he came back to their side. 

Mash nodded again and clarified, “Magus need an adequate and enormous space when doing so. It draws a lot of mana to summon them from the Throne of Heroes to our world, Ritsuka-senpai. 

“The mana from the Master transferred to the Servants to materialize takes a load of spirit to do so, and its output is the same.” 

Folded her arms, Ritsuko raised her hand to caress her chin. “So it sounds like calling for a powerful dragon but an ancient spirit from the past? Or even a legendary myth person?”

“Seems like it,” The raven-haired Master responded to his sister and shifted back to the Demi-Servant. “Since it’s like a magic ritual, I presume we require a catalyst to summon them? Human bones or…?” 

“Unneeded, Senpai. The artifacts could also be furniture or objects strongly ties to the Heroic Spirit. But…,” Mash’s brows furrowed before she resumed. “Because of what had happened in Singularity, we didn’t have the chance to find any relics.

“These are Chaldeas’s replacement for the catalyst to summon them.” From her jacket pocket, Mash dug and took out two small rainbow-colored star-shaped gems to the Fujimaru siblings. 

“Beautiful…,” Ritsuko muttered to herself then moved back to Mash. “So, we’re using this instead, right? How do we go about it? Do we set them in the magic circle's middle or?” 

Mash shook her head, “No, Ritsuko-senpai. Before I explained how I’ll explain what they are.”

Her violet orb directed to the gem and described, “These gems gathered from the residue mana of the enemy Servants we fought. We’re still able to summon them, but, we’re not able to determine who are we to summon.” 

“So, it’s up to the fate of who showed up and help us, huh?” Ritsuka summarized. 

The Demi-Servant nodded and added, “Yes, that’s correct. But, as the Director said… The summoning had likewise failed if they chose not to answer our call too.” 

“Hmm,” Ritsuka hummed to himself. A risk it was that the late Director had brought up before her passing. But Romani’s comments reminded how terrible situation now with no alternative source of manpower. 

With no further doubts to consider, Ritsuka gave a hopeful grin to the concerned Demi-Servant. “I’ll take my chances. We require all the help we could have right now.” 

“I agree. A risk of no one responding our summoning, but I think we should make our efforts to try. Better than have no offering to sacrifice…,” Ritsuko agreed and murmured to herself thoughtfully. “But I wonder if they would accept our hated enemy’s body as an offering.” 

Ritsuka glared right at her and reprimanded, “Okay, sis, we aren’t performing any voodoo black magic shit to curse ourselves if it backfires.” 

Mash returned a shy cheered-up smile and ensured to them. “Don’t worry, Senpai. There won’t be any curses if it fails. Only a matter of if they wished to answer your call.” 

“I guess… Let’s gamble with fate.” Ritsuka grabbed hold of one of the rainbow gems as Ritsuko did too. 

Staring at the gem, both felt an intensified warm inside. Mash’s voice however captured their attention back to her. “Does the Senpai wished to read through the summoning chant script again?” 

“I do!” Ritsuko raised her hand instantly at the offer presented to them. 

Ritsuka nodded and agreed, “Just to be safe than sorry.”

-0-

About 30 minutes passed after memorizing the incantation, both Fujimaru Siblings stood in the circle’s heart. 

Mash standing at the side with Fou carried in her arms, called out, “Anytime when you’re ready, Senpais!” 

The orange-haired Master examined the gem in her hold before shifting to Mash to verify her earlier instruction. “All we have to is to convey our spirit inside the gem, so it changes to liquid to fill it right?!” 

Mash nodded to repeat her instruction. “That’s right, focus your energy to transform into a single color, Ritsuko-senpai. You need to locate the color that stood out the most and turned the gem to that color.” 

A slight nod to acknowledge she understood, Ritsuko faced back at the gem in her palm. The rainbow aurora inside the gem swirled around in a slow movement. Her orange orbs staring at each of seven hues in following what Mash said. 

But, it didn’t take long once she scanned for the third round to recognize one stood out among all. A sharp breath breathed into her lungs, her mind settled into changing that gem into the said color.

In Ritsuka’s hand, he clutched close once it had settled to a distinct color. Blue orbs facing to the ground and his right fist stretched forward. 

When Ritsuko had drawn her right fist forward, both hands clutched tightly as two bright red and silver-colored liquid dripping out from the fist. Each droplet dying and filling the two magic circles in the respective color as they both chanted, “Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Let each be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time.”

A glow of white light radiated from the magic circles once filled, a cue for them to step outside the ring. Both siblings walking out in a cautious step before facing back again with their right hand outstretched towards it. “Let silver and steel be the essence.

“Let stone and the Archduke of contracts be the foundation 

“Let silver the color I pay tribute to,” Ritsuka recited. 

“Let red the color I pay tribute to,” Ritsuko recited at the same pace. 

Silver and Red light shone in the own circle, the two Master went on. “Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. 

“Let the four cardinal gates close.

“Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.”

Each sentence of incantation, fierce winds, and electricity being drawn into the magic circles. Mash hugged Fou, which the latter buried closer into her chest for a cover. Ritsuka gritted his teeth to hold his ground. His left hand raised to support his right and maintained, “I hereby declare.” 

Ritsuko’s left hand lifted to cover from the current and drew a deep breath. “Your body shall serve under me.” 

Two voices reverberated in the room with a further resolute tone against the violent gust. “My fate shall be your sword.

“Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail 

“If you will submit to this will and this reason… Then answer!”

At their tone, the current turned violent as it threatened to devour them whole. However, blue and orange orbs determined gazed at the front and yelled as loud as they could from the winds howling. “An oath shall be sworn here! 

“I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. 

“I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell! 

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,

“Come forth from the ring of restraints,

“Protector of the Holy Balance!”

Bzzt… BOOM!

Blue and Red electric sparks burst out from the circle and rocked the area from its powerful discharge. It covered the chamber in gray smoke while both siblings knocked back down onto the ground.

Right hand raised and waved off the smoke, Ritsuka whizzed and coughed. “Are you guys all right?!”

“Yeah! Are you sure that’s how it’s done, Mash-chan?” Ritsuko coughed and peered behind to Mash.

“Yes, but…,” The said Demi-Servant coughing from the smoke replied. “You had used much mana, Senpai!”

Not solely the three, Fou coughed in a small squeaky noise. But his ears perked at the unfamiliar sound. He shot his head to the front and squeaked at what was in his view, “Fou, fou! Kyu, kyu!”

“Fou…?” Dumbfounded at what Fou squeaking at, Ritsuka followed his direction to the front. His blue orbs widened in surprise at what stood before him in his magic circle.

Fou’s squeaking catching the attention to the two girls also caused them looked in front. Both orange and violet orbs widened at the figure unveiling from the smoke. A familiar figure in a blue hooded cloak glanced around his surroundings.

He then shifted to get a good view of himself and mused, “Oops! I guess this time I am materialized as a Caster?”

His red orbs shifted towards the three staring at him. A familiar smirk curled his lips, “Oh, it’s you guys! We met before, right?”

“C-Caster?!” Ritsuko’s tone of surprise mingled with the comfort of a familiar face left her lips when he tugged down his hood.

“The one and only, but,” Caster grinned fondly at her reception. He again made a brief scan at himself before sighing. “Well, looks like you guys still got long ways to summon me as a Lancer instead.”

A wry grin splayed across Ritsuka’s lips and apologized. “Perhaps the next round of summoning, I should input more mana.”

“What’s done has been done. It’s great to see you guys again. Seems like I will be your permanent ally under the contract established,” As Caster waved his hand to brush it off, a knowing smirk made its way to Ritsuka. “Right, kid?”

Blue orbs blinked with surprise expression, Ritsuka nodded and shot a slight appreciation grin. “I can’t wait to work with you again, Caster.”

As a broader grin appeared on Caster’s lips, he whirled and headed to Mash. Once he came closer, he placed his arm around the Demi-Servant and drew her close. “And I look forward to working with you, lady.”

“Ah!” Mash gasped at the action in surprise. But, Fou in her arms growled at the unwanted movement.

Ritsuko agreed with the fluffy companion, shared the same annoyed face. She moved to them and tugged one of Mash’s arms to her side with a protective glare. “Maybe you could try keeping your hands away from her as our comrade now, Caster?”

Again, Caster laughed at ease at the orange-haired Master’s reaction. “As protective as always, huh? Please take care of me then, imouto-chan.”

Fou hissed another fierce growl to the Caster, making Ritsuka sighed and thought. “This will take a long while to get used to…”

As another sigh left his lips, Ritsuka realized, “Speaking of Servant…”

With the smoke gone, he switched his view to his sister’s summoning circle and asked, “Where is your Servant, Ritsuko?”

“Now you mentioned,” Ritsuko along with the rest turned to her summoning circle once Ritsuka’s remarks got their attention. Unlike her brother’s, hers had no sight of a figure manifested. Her brows furrowed with concern and worried. “Did it fail?”

“Fou, fooou! Fou!”

Nodded her head a few times, Mash turned to Ritsuko and returned. “There was an explosion outside the summoning chamber, Fou-san said. It should be there Ritsuko-senpai’s Servant was summoned.”

“Yeah, I sense a Servant nearby here too as the young lady mentioned. But…,” Caster confirmed. But his words trailed off, and his red orbs narrowed at the unpleasant tingling.

Oblivious to his discomfort, Ritsuko nodded eagerly, “Then, I got to meet them!”

Her legs dashed off to the exit without hearing the precise details. Ritsuka’s orbs widened before giving chase to his sister. “Wait for us!”

“Senpais, please wait!” Mash hurriedly followed her two Master with Fou in her arms.

“Oi!” The three had moved out of hearing range, leaving Caster alone in the chamber. He let out an exasperated groan, “I don’t like this feeling at all…!”

His body dissolved in blue light and vanished from the chamber to follow the three children’s whereabouts.

-0-

In a room, the door slid open revealing Ritsuko stopped her steps to take deep breathing. Not that tough to locate since there was confusion among Chaldea staff hearing furniture falling heard in the guest room.

“Made it…,” Ritsuko heaved out another breath. Her head turned upwards and soon gasped in horror. Both orange orbs widened in shock at the sight before her.

Unknown to her, Ritsuka entered the room and studied the area. The furniture and decoration toppled over the other from the blast. Though he had thought everything would be in flames, thankfully the damage they made from summoning wasn’t that big.

“This is my first seeing this, but I feel something like this had happened before…,” Ritsuka muttered to himself. His head swung to the front, blue orbs widened in shock and vigilance. He stood before his sister and exclaimed, “You’re from that time–!”

The Fujimaru siblings stared at the familiar white-haired, tanned figure sitting on a couch. Both of his eyes closed with one leg stretched out resting on the table. A calm, deep and familiar voice escaped his lips, “… Archer-class Servant. I have been summoned and come at your request.”

“Hm?” Curious at the silence, Archer opened his eyes to look at what happened. A smirk curled his lips, black orbs stared at them in amusement. “Well, well, isn’t this something? It must be a very lucky pull I’m summoned… To meet you both again.”

Ritsuko gulped worriedly at his shifted gaze to her. Even knowing they were enemies before, she held a wary gaze back at him and acknowledged, “Archer….”

Archer snorted at her attempted strong expression, “That’s rather a scary face you have. But, it’s good you’re wary at the same time. You’ll never know when a Servant will turn their back on you.”

The orange-haired Master added while she watched him rose up and heading to them. “You've got the point there… Considering you are our enemy who fought against us to prevent us from reaching Holy Grail.”

Once he had reached closer, Ritsuka stood between them with his sister behind him. Both blue and orange eyes gazed back at the observing black orbs. A problem it’d developed to if a fight broke out here.

Mash had yet to show up and still searching for them. On another part, he didn’t know where Caster was. Even if he did, a war between Servants was the last thing needed before they could save humanity.

As though knowing his concerns, Archer voiced out in a blunt yet taunting way. “If you’re worried, you could always use your Command Seals to bind me to your bidding.”

“Huh?” Both siblings stared at him with a bewildered face as it sounded weird to their ears.

The said Servant shrugged his shoulders and repeated. “As what I said, you could order me to swear loyalty to you, tell only the truth to you, or even use it to end my life. What would you do?” 

Her mouth struggling to express sounds to question his ridiculous proposition. But, her brain also trying to process them too. Ritsuko shook her head to ask, “You say that, but what do you mean–?” 

“If I were you, the last one would be the wisest decision to an Archer like him, imouto-chan.” 

Shifting their head over to the voice’s origin, a familiar blue-haired Servant stood by the door. Ritsuka turned to him and exclaimed, “Caster!” 

“I thought my streak of luck would be better this time when I was summoned…,” Archer turned over and threw a sharp glare to the newly arrived Servant. “But I had overlooked the moment another Servant was summoned… And, it became worse when it was you whom I was summoned with, Cu Chulainn.” 

Cu let out an irritated growl and shot a glare back at him, “Back at you too, Archer. Who would’ve guessed my luck would be bad enough to summon with you…”

Red orbs glaring against the black orbs, strained silence dominated the atmosphere. But, Ritsuka sucked a sharp breath into his lungs and strode in between the two. “Hey, if you two wish to fight, take it somewhere or back at Fuyuki or something.” 

Ritsuko joined her brother to his side and reminded the summoned Servants. “That’s right! Aren’t you supposed to be comrades now or something? Comrades shouldn’t be fighting one another!”

“Hah! That’s a horrible joke, imouto-chan. Even if he’s no longer under that black mud, there’s no way I’m cooperating with a nameless Servant,” Cu snorted at her remarks. 

The orange-haired Master’s mouth dropped at his blunt retort. Though before she could snap her own response back, Ritsuka raised his hand a little and questioned. “Hold on, you say he’s no longer under the black mud?” 

“Yeah,” Cu raised and gestured to the Archer and explained. “Whatever you guys did after both Saber, and I left, the effects from that bastard vanished once he’s summoned by imouto-chan here.” 

Her brother’s words made Ritsuko turned her mind back at the main problem. She glimpsed at Archer briefly before changing back at said Caster with a puzzled expression. “He’s no longer under the effect once Saber disappeared?”

Faint hum escaped the raven-haired Master’s lips from his pondering. His blue orbs blinked on a memory evoked in his mind and murmured, “Now I remember… You and the other Servants in that Holy Grail War…” 

“As expected, you remembered Fujimaru Ritsuka.” 

Archer complimented before nodding, “That’s right. When our human Masters vanished that Saber engaged the war once more.”

He folded his arms and went on, “I was slain by Saber along with five others Servants. And, we’re brought back under the newfound recognition he’s our Master now. For reasons or another.”

“And from there, you and the other Servants targeted us under the orders of Saber to prevent from our goal being reached, no?” Ritsuka queried without a beat. 

“Under the strange, mysterious effects from him? That’s correct.” 

“I see…” Ritsuka nodded, and his eyes shifted to the side to contemplate deeply. 

Ritsuko who had been listening through the full exchange, voiced in her concerns at the Archer. “That means you’re no longer under Saber’s control or anything? And, you’re a free Servant now since we defeated her?”

“Perhaps, you would prefer to use those Command Seals to try?” Archer suggested with one of his eyebrows lifted. 

“Well…”

As Ritsuko turned to her brother, he caught her worried expression while pondering. Like a magical familiar, there were chances they would deceive you the more intelligent they were. But, this was Servants who were mostly humans as far as he remembered. 

Though, the only issue was he still didn’t know his True Name. But, Ritsuka remembered their previous fight back in Fuyuki and thought. “Then again, he didn’t look that willing to serve Saber too. He was under her control by force, so…”

A slight grin curved on his lips and signaled Ritsuko of his conclusion. Her orange orbs blinked in surprise before chuckling, earning curiosity from both Servants. She then swung to Archer with a brilliant grin. “Sure, my sole command is to teach your new Master, or both of us, how to use those Command Seals, Archer.” 

“… The two of you…” Archer uttered in complete disbelief at their verdict.

“You’re not mistaken you would betray us any moment. But,” Ritsuka showed a sheepish grin and admitted. “At the slightest, you have surely no desire to harm us since you’re no longer in Saber’s control. We’ll look forward to working with you, Archer.” 

“That’s right!” Ritsuko nodded and included her own views to it, “And asking you to commit suicide or even using those ‘Command Seals’ to obey is way too much. We may be enemies before, but we’re friends now. As your Master, please take care of your rookie Master, Archer!”

When Ritsuko expressed her own bright grin, Archer stood there speechless from their remarks. Not a single trace of deceit in their actions or words. An honest answer from them made Archer sighed. “A troublesome and naïve Masters… But it may not be such bad luck if it’s from both of you.”

Hearing there weren’t any protests from the Archer, both siblings smiled to each other in getting a new comrade. But a blunt and cold voice objected their decision. “My bad, but there’s no way I will cooperate with him.”

Towards the statement behind him, Ritsuka noticed that Cu still had the glare on his face towards Archer. “Huh?! But, aren’t we comrades now?” 

“I was thinking just about that. Accepting you, Ritsuko, or the two of you as my Masters are one matter, working with him is another,” Archer agreed. His own glare shot back to the said Caster before him. 

An unleashed snort escaped from Cu, and he remarked, “No matter where I’m summoned, I see his face. It’s starting to feel like fate? Ugh, I hate it.”

Ritsuko’s brows furrowed at how their situation turned to square one. “But isn’t it important to set aside your differences and your pasts together?! Sure, you guys had issues before, but you both are adults. You guys are old enough to go past this!”

“I’m sorry, but I would personally request as your Servant to not put me together with that dog in your mission,” Archer replied without a beat. 

An ear twitched at the last comment unnoticed by Ritsuko and his Master before him. Ritsuka let out a frustrated groan and reminded, “Hey, Archer, you don’t have an option to be picky of your working comrades–!”

His words to convince Archer interrupted when a vexed voice spoke louder behind him, “Oi, bastard, I want to confirm something. You called me a dog, didn’t you?” 

“Caster—Um, Caster…?” Before he could reproach him to pick a fight with Archer, Ritsuka hesitated upon recognizing the completed provoked expression of Caster. If there was a spell in rune magic to kill a Servant by looks, Cu had cast that. 

Yet, the said Servant who started this was unfazed, unlike his orange-haired Master. He smirked wider and even asserted his earlier statements. “Ah, I did, hound of Chulann.” 

“Hey, you two… Hold on, this is–!”

Even Ritsuko’s seek to extinguish the fire failed, Cu replied with a taunt. “Aah, now I remember… I’m not convinced from our last fight. Even I had defeated you, you weren’t even going all out against us, were you?”

“Drop it, Caster. Just let it go–!”

So as Ritsuka’s attempt as well to his own Servant. Archer let out a snort and responded. “I don’t wish to exhaust my mana against a Servant who isn’t in their appropriate class. But if you insist on a change, I’d be willing to send you back into the throne of heroes.”

In the familiar blue light burst in both hands, his well-known pair of swords appeared in Archer’s hands. Cu summoned his staff in thin air and whirled it forward, “Hah! I was wondering about the same too. I’d do the kid and imouto-chan a favor and fire you back first before they get betrayed!”

“Archer!”

“Caster!” Both siblings called out to their respective Servants before it escalated any further danger from the ongoing situation. 

Caster answered in an uninterested blunt tone without even glancing at his Master, “Stay out of our business, kid.”

“Just keep quiet and watch, Master. It’ll be a hassle if you stepped in,” Archer replied too without looking back at his own Master.

As it earned irritated vein appeared on both Fujimaru siblings’ forehead, both Servants remained ignorant with Archer taunted further. “Be thankful this time I’ll not be pulling any punches, Caster.”

“Hah! Then to thank you for that, I’ll repay it by going all out this time!”

With Cu’s quip, both arms moved readied to attack and even cast a rune spell. But as they were doing so, two voices muttered in synch, “Both of you…”

“You two…”

The wooden staff swung forward as Cu’s lips readied his incantation to crush the Archer before him. The said Servant turned his right arm forward before its blade struck against the Caster’s staff.

An immense heat accumulated within them from their pent-up anger. Ritsuka had glared at then while shouted, “Will both of you morons knock it off and listen to what we have to say?!

“Will you shut the fuck up and listen?!” Ritsuko yelled at the same time.

Unbeknownst to them, the red Command Seal on the back of their right hand glowed. And it burst into a blinding crimson light that affected both Servants. By the light, their hands swinging the weapons froze on the spot.

Alerted by their frozen position, they shifted to their Master with a bewildered expression. Cu at once shot them a pointed look at their own actions. “Oi, did you waste a Command Seal on us?!”

“Command Seal?!” Ritsuko stared at them with an expression mixed of incredulous and confusion.

The white-haired Servant opened his mouth to explain, but he realized his voice disappeared. The orange-haired Master turned to her Servant and asked, “A-Archer, what happened to your voice?!”

Rolled his eyes at her ignorant question, his black orbs gestured to the back of their right hand. Thankfully, Ritsuka followed his direction and took a peek at his own. Instead of two red markings, there was a single mark left with two in faded pink color.

“Command…,” Ritsuka’s eyes blinked as he understood what their Servants had been talking about. “Do you mean–?”

Zrrt!

“M… Made it,” The familiar violet-haired Demi-Servant entered the room, heaving fatigue breath from her lips. With another gulp of air inhaled, she swung her head to the front. “I’m sorry that I’m late! I wasn’t able to find both of you, but is everything–?!”

Her own words halted words when everybody changed their attention to her. Cu let out a sigh of relief while Archers muttered soundlessly. Mash stared at the latter with a wary but puzzled face, “That Archer… But, his voice…?”

She spun back towards her two Masters and inquired with a worried voice, “Senpai, what’s going on–?”

Ritsuko interrupted her by dashing over to her and rested both her hands on her shoulders. A relief and grateful expression were written all over her face, Ritsuko answered with a too cheerful voice, “Ah Mash-chan, perfect timing! We need your help here! There are two frozen Servants and one of them being mute!”

“I-I’m willing to help as your Kouhai…. But what’s going on…,” Mash nodded weakly with a hesitant but concerned tone. Her words trailed off as her violet orb glanced towards her other Master.

Though, she wasn’t alone as two pairs of eyes of red and black stared at him. The considerable pressure he received from them as though demanding a solution to the position they’re in.

“Voted permanently as Commander-in-charge with no violent protests,” Ritsuka commented in his thoughts and let out a heavy sigh. “Before we sit down with a cup of tea to discuss how we even got into this situation…”

His blue orbs glanced behind at the chaotic mess, letting out another heavy and dreaded sigh, and shifted back to the four. “Let’s clean this place up first.”

There weren’t any objections from the two Servants since they nodded quietly as a response. While Mash had left to pick up cleaning tools, their two Master carried small furniture to arrange them. Archer and Cu just glared at each other while tidying the area in silence.

-0-

Gathered together after cleaning the mess, everybody except Archer sat around the table after reporting of all that had transpired after the defeat of Saber. 

Archer glanced at the crew and Cu sitting behind him. He let out a heavy sigh and shifted to them, “I see. Though I now have a better grasp of your disposition…”

His black orbs stared at the Fujimaru siblings and nodded in understanding, “You have my compliments for your blessed luck to survive throughout the whole Singularity, Masters.”

“Thank the lady luck instead, Archer. She thought it’s funny to watch us running through that hell,” Ritsuka retorted. A groan escaped his lips too from the memory they’ve been through. 

Snickered to himself at his Master’s response, Cu clarified on the earlier lecture while cleaning up back before. “Anyway, do you guys realize what the Command Seals are for now?”

“More or less,” Ritsuko examined the single red seal on the back of her right hand. “They are the Master’s given authority to have our Servants obey us three times.”

The violet-haired Demi-Servant beside her Master nodded and pointed out further, “Instead of the Holy Grail War system once it’s used up…. The previous Director changed the system, so the Command Seals it’s restored after three days afterward.”

“Or two days since we left only one,” Ritsuka corrected after glimpsing his own current and matching single red seal with his sister. 

Archer nodded and elaborated, “That’s right. They also compel a Servant to do an act that’s impossible with their power solely. But simultaneously with your mana combined, it’s workable to bring about that feat. They are the crystallization of high magic and overcomes the limit of flesh and blood.”

“But they can be less effective when you aren’t exact enough. Or at least,” Cu’s amused red orbs glanced at Ritsuko and smirked. “She was specific enough to shut that Archer up earlier.”

“R-Right…,” The orange-haired Master gave a timid grin to the two Servants. “I guess that clarifies why he wasn’t able to speak for a moment.”

A huff escaping Archer’s lips was the reciprocation to her before he proceeded, “But, no matter how many Command Seals used. 

“Not every order would be adhered to absolutely. Your first order was successful, but the second order only draws our attention to you both.” 

“I suppose that‘s assuming of an even stronger Servants we’re to summoned?” Ritsuka raised one of his hand to hold his chin and peered at the white-haired Servant. The nod from Archer affirmed his queries in his mind, leaving Ritsuka nothing to press further.

Red orbs from Cu swept across the area to see no one had any further queries to ask. Taking it as a signal to move to the next, Cu then clarified their earlier report. “My turn, you say right after Saber was defeated, you guys are to recover those 7 grails from the Singularities in human history?”

Shifted to Caster, Ritsuka nodded to affirm his question and included. “Aah, that was the task we’re supposed to do next. The Doctor suggested we should summon more Servants with us before the next Singularity since we will deal with possible enemy Servants.”

“Hmm… And all of it was because of that traitor from your organization? The one who killed the Director lady with you?” 

Ritsuko’s lips made a grim frown at Cu’s furrowed brows. “Yeah… He was using power from the Holy Grail as the Doctor said.” 

“I see…,” Cu turned his head aside with a frown appeared momentarily on his lips. The orange-haired Master bowed her head with a sad grimace of her own too. She wouldn’t fault him if he had any hopes he would also meet the Director once more.

As matters had to push on, Cu turned back to them and spelled out. “Anyway, you guys are locating him too, no? You’re dealing with a human magus holding the power of the Holy Grail.”

Ritsuko’s head swung back and nodded in surprise. “That’s right, but…”

Her orange orbs along with others followed her glance towards the Demi-Servant. Realized what her Master nudged her on, Mash shifted to Cu and revealed. “It’s a gut feeling I had when I saw Professor Lev before us. There was something very different about him…”

“Fooou, fou! Fou!”

Glanced at Fou before shifting back, Ritsuka added from what he recalled into the conversation. “A different life-form was what he claimed. And, along with the lines we have deemed failure towards his King which he pointed out too.”

“Hmm… So, the Holy Grail War Saber mentioned was all from him. Also, he’s the one who incinerated our human Master in the war too. And, every other human existed in your current era now,” Archer summarized all he tuned in to them.

“Yes, that’s what we learned so far, Archer-san,” Mash’s violet orb stared at Archer to confirm his words.

“A large-scale war than the ones we Servants summoned for. But instead of our usual war, you guys won’t be dealing with any other Master since you two are the sole humans alive.” Cu noted to himself before his red orbs once more stared at the surviving humans before him.

The hidden reminder in his last sentence made Ritsuka declared with a determined tone. “But we will definitely find him and bring back our home.”

“Even knowing your enemy holding the power of the Holy Grail itself? You knew well that’s a reckless move, no?” 

“Yes, I know!” Ritsuko’s hands tightened the grip of her black skirt from Archer’s blunt hit to the sore spot. Her teeth gritted at that final reminder. The memory of Olga being dragged and electrocuted by Chaldeas globe while they stood there helplessly was something no one would forever forget.

If it weren’t for Ritsuka and Mash’s intervention, she had found herself in Death’s hands. Despite the fear, Ritsuko’s orange orbs stared back at the two Servants and declared. “In honor for the Director, we won’t let him make humanity extinct at the end of 2017. We’ll fight, that’s the promise we made to Mash-chan and everyone in Chaldea!”

“That’s our answer, Archer, Caster,” Ritsuka turned to them with his sister after glancing at her. “Even if Death welcomes us as a friendly host at its doorstep, we’ll still battle to restore humanity.” 

Silence once more ensued as the three Servants stared at their Masters. An impassive expression showed on Cu and Archer. But, Mash awed at their courage and commitment of their position as the last human Masters.

Soon, a smirk curved on Cu lips and responded, “It’s a reckless and unreasonable order from you two, but hey, I prefer taking on impossible missions.”

He rose from his seat and approached to both to an appropriate distance. “I may not like all that’s happened so far, but, it can’t be that bad working with you guys again.”

“Caster…” Ritsuka stared back at his Servant with shocked yet dumbfounded of what he listened. 

“I’ll admit, the two of you are more foolish and brash than some Master we’ve experienced. But…,” Archer let out a murmur before heading and stopping at the same spot beside Cu. “Even if you do lack magic talents…. You both have remarkable potential as a Master.”

“Archer…” It’s Ritsuko’s turn to stare at her own Servant with a dumbfounded expression. 

“A child you two are, but, I’ll grant you both my strength as your Servant and mentor in this war.” Archer raised his right fist to his chest, his eyes closed and bowed to them, “It’s gratitude I’ll repay for freeing me from Saber’s control.”

Did they get it right? Both siblings now stared at each other with an awed expression before Mash, and they stood up from their seat. Ritsuka took a gulp before confirming his words, “So, you accept us, or my sister, as your Master?”

“Of course. Right now, we should be connected. As a mage, you should be able to perceive the bond between us through our pact.” Archers black orbs shifted towards Ritsuko. 

“Pact…?”

As Ritsuko repeated the exact word, Cu raised and pointed his finger at her heart. “Close your eyes and concentrate you two. You should detect something like a cord connecting to us.”

A soundless gulp made from their throat before the two Masters nodded and closed their eyes. 

Unnecessary thoughts and external interference blurred out to concentrate the vibration of their pulse. 

Doubts and questions surfaced once more when they weren’t able to feel what the Caster told them. However, a strange unknown heat surged back and forth within their body to the unknown.

Ritsuka opened his eyes and muttered. “I understand now. So, that’s what you meant by a cord that connects us to both of you.” 

“Pact…,” Ritsuko muttered the alien word to herself. Her head tipped back to Caster and clarified after understanding what she felt. “That heat in our body escaping from us is…!”

Mash nodded at her query and answered. “Servants may be summoned through the FATE system, but what anchors them is–!”

“Both of their magic circuits. We’re linked into this world by the mana you transferred to Servants,” Cu finished the Demi-Servant’s answer. A small breath left his lips, and he raised his hand to rub the back of his neck. “It isn’t the best, but I’ll take what I have. We can’t be picky with what we have, huh?”

Surprise expression occurred on the raven-haired’s face when Cu quoted his words. Ritsuka returned with his own wry grin to Cu’s smirk. “Yeah… Then, we’ll be in your care, Caster, Archer.”

Seeing Cu grinning brightly and Archer let out a small huff, Ritsuko took a step forward and smiled at her contracted Servant. “Yup, please take care of us too, Archer!”

Black orbs blinked at her outstretched hand and happy grin to him, the pair were indeed the strangest Masters he met. He grabbed her hand in a firm hold and acknowledged. “As you wish, Master.”

Bright beam also curved on Mash’s lips, satisfied that things ended well for her Masters. Yet, she’s amazed once more at how they could persuade both Cu and Archer to cooperate despite their antagonism to each other.

A fantastic pair they were, something Fou squeaked to her in agreement as though he knew her thoughts.

GUU-

Both stomachs from both Master growled to them, faces turned crimson in embarrassment at how loud it caused. Ritsuko retracted her hand and spun aside from the group. “Erm…” 

Ritsuka coughed and expressed in a fail attempted impassive tone. “Well, looks like the outcome of cleaning this place is here…”

“Our priority right now is to have your stomachs filled. And, we’ll explain more during your meal.”

Noticed Archer’s black orbs staring at her, Mash nodded in understanding and his hidden implication. “I agree, I’ll take everyone to where the cafeteria is.” 

“Great!” Ritsuko’s relief and enthusiastic voice chirped to the proposal. Though, she turned red when her stomach growled once more. “Oh, come on, can’t you be more patient?!”

Both Cu and Ritsuka snickered and laughed at her outburst. Archer produced a slightly amused smile to her childish complaint and followed the three behind with Mash leading to the next stop.

End of Issue #1

*crawls out from the numerous events, babylonia singularity, real-life happenings, working life, procastination, writer's block & a slight fever* I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perfectly right before the final Singularity... I'm not dead... I'm alive......!!! I'M NOT DEAD HERE I SWEAR!! I'M JUST MORE ACTIVE ON MY TUMBLR ACCOUNT: fgodestinyawakenings

*coughs* Right... Once again, I'm really REALLY REALLY sorry for the long delay to the very first issue of Chaldea's Daily Digest. Those who has been anticipating for the new Servants that's going to join them as a main group is finally here! Or those who followed me on tumblr, would've seen the spoilers of who are the Servants that's more notable to be out next ^^;

Mama Emiya and Caster Cu Chulainn answered to both their summons at last! And unfortunately... Why it took this long? Because 6 chapters on this arc before the first Singularity will behave very much like a tutorial mode. Involving learning actual magic and basics about Masters and stuff. I'll go brief on the Masters part since it's something most known, magic wise I'm cracking my head to see how magic was taught to beginners

Anyone who wondered why Caster Cu in particular and why not Lancer ver... I'm more going by what was summoned via story both available and story-locked. So when's the Lancer version? Err... I'll put this bluntly especially agreeing with one of the comments. There isn't going to be multiple copies of them like those two appearing at the same time. I have an original and probably not a good twist in this change.

I'll announce another time who are the Servants will have multiple copies of themselves summoned and/or ones affected by this twist. So, if you think this sucks... It's going to get worse from here. Because what I'm planning onwards just made me questioned myself but I'm going with this flow because I've dug my grave for this

Next chapter release will take a very long while, so this chapter hopefully you guys enjoyed and something to really make up for the previous and upcoming Hiatus! Those who have been giving kudos, following and favorite on ff.net... THANKS A LOT!! IT REALLY MEANS A LOT THAT KEEP ME WRITING DESPITE HOW MUCH THE WRITER'S BLOCK AND PROCASTINATION HIT OTL