#caduceus clay week

[c-kiddo]

early cr2 u are my one and only

[id in alt text]

[ducessaeva]

looking mighty fine <3

[reilora-borealis]

"I pray to the Wildmother for earplugs" CADUCEUS CLAY KING OF MY HEART

[critter-tea-rex]

Caduceus "The Aro Ace King" Clay making his grand return during ace week really is the most iconic shit

[fjorests-of-wildemount]

Really hoping Caduceus shows up in the Reunion if for no other reason than the comedy of having now acquired a giant Celestial bull friend and also having heard whispers through the plants of a threesome between a werewolf, a gnome, and a faun in the middle of the Savalirwood, which he of course thinks is the plants getting overexcited and inventing stories but is cool with either way.

[somewhatsentientspellbook]

It has been such a pleasure over the last few episodes, seeing Ashton embrace the title of ‘hero.’ The moves that they are making are really cementing themself as a leader with a desire to positively affect the world. I love this shade on Ashton, and I can’t wait to see where it goes, though I have been struck with a somewhat worrying/exciting thought.

Not too long ago, I was reminded of Taliesin’s original plans for Percy, that plan being that his story would end tragically. Of course, we know that the story didn’t turn out that way, and Percy is now living in Whitestone with his wife and children. But it got me thinking that Caduceus’ character wasn’t designed with classic tragedy in mind, and also achieved a happy ending. Then I started to consider Mollymauk. Did Taliesin intend for the tiefling to have the tragic end he got? My gut instinct is to say no.

That's how this table came into existence:

We’ve got a missing spot, don’t we? We’re missing a character that successfully achieves its predetermined tragic ending.

Taliesin has a love for creating characters with questionable and self-destructive coping mechanisms. Percy and his affinity for making deals with demonic entities and creating weapons capable of untold destruction, Molly and his hedonism and indulgence of drugs, alcohol, and mischief, and even Caduceus’ repression and ignorance towards anything that makes him uncomfortable. Ashton Greymoore is no exception. Their anger, gambling and alcoholism are all one big coping mechanism for their childhood and chronic pain.

Part of me believes that this hero mentality has become another coping mechanism for Ashton to abuse. By stepping up, Ashton has been lifting the burden of leadership from other party members, the notable cases being Laudna, Orym, and FCG. He’s been encouraging them to explore their emotions, and ever since the Solstice, he has made himself the person they can lean on for support. Ashton wants to be a hero, even if it’s at the expense of their own well-being.

Ashton has made it clear on multiple occasions that their chronic pain is handled better under greater pressure, and soft, delicate touches cause them far more discomfort (even if the softer touches lead to less trouble in the long-term). But the problem with becoming a ‘rock’ for others is that Ashton must put himself under immense emotional pressure. While they may handle it far better in the short-term, that tactic is going to cause more damage the longer they indulge it. I feel like the lyrics of ‘Heroes' by Emmy Curie best describe my feelings on the matter:

"But you’re forgetting the thing about heroes, kid, they always have to fall"

(For the record, the song is simplistic but pretty, and I highly recommend listening to the whole thing. The lyrics apply to so many characters, and not just from Critical Role)

While I love this arc for Ashton, part of me is left wondering if Taliesin has been building up this character for the purpose of falling even further. Is Ashton going to achieve the tragic ending that Percy was deprived of? Will he be the one to occupy the final quadrant of that table?

[critterfloozy]

A Reflection or Molding

for @critter-genfic-events critter gen week day four - grief/mourning

Caduceus experiences a loss. Essek does his best to comfort him.

(1427 words, happens a few hundred years after campaign 2 so everyone you would expect to be dead is so, plus another character death)

Caduceus should clean up Caleb’s grave  - Veth’s sunflowers were encroaching again.

Not all of the Nein had been buried in the grove. In the end, Caleb had chosen to be buried near his parents in Blumenthal, where he’d spent his years after retirement. But they all had their own shrines. The corpses were the least important part of a grave, after a while. Caduceus would be shocked if there were more than a few stray bones left of Veth over a century later.

Even if there was no Caleb underneath, it still represented Caleb. Essek was coming, and would be the first non-Clay to see the newest grave. It was important that Caleb’s grave should be nicely tended.

If that meant he had less time to deal with the new grave, well. That’s just how it happened. It didn’t have to mean anything. 

Caduceus had finished up tidying up Caleb and was contemplating getting up off of his knees again (an act that he found required a lot more contemplation these days) when he heard Essek’s approach. Essek still looked maddeningly young to Caduceus’s eyes, though he knew even the drow must have some signs of age. The stylish clothes helped him look young, maybe. He adventured less, taught more these days, but was still a few centuries away from retirement.

The thought of having a few centuries more made Caduceus feel tired.

Essek approached the familiar graves and gave them respect, while Caduceus finally made his way onto his feet.

“You’ve done a great job tending to them,” Essek said as a way of greeting.

“Yeah,” Caduceus said in response. “Good to see you again, but sorry about the circumstances.”

Essek nodded and hovered closer, looking like he’s not sure whether or not he should touch Caduceus. Caduceus didn’t want to make it easier for Essek at this moment. 

Eventually, Essek decided upon retreat and cleared his throat. “Where’s Clarabelle?” 

Well, it was going to happen sooner or later. It was the reason Essek was here, after all.

Caduceus led them to a spot in the back of the cottage, next to the wall surrounding the graveyard. It was a freshly dug grave, even with the mushrooms that the Wildmother encouraged to grow there. No marker yet - Calliope was still working on it.

Caduceus gestured to the grave, not wanting to say it out loud.

He found that he didn’t have that much energy to do things he didn’t want to do these days. Nobody could really make him do them anymore, either.

Essek knelt at the grave, and said a few words in Zemnian. Caduceus wondered if Kryn high society didn’t really do rituals, so Essek adopted what he learned from Caleb, Or maybe he just preferred Zemnian mourning.

A question for another time.

“How did it happen?” Essek asked after he’d finished. He was looking up at Caduceus. A wide brimmed hat and sunglasses protected his eyes, but the horribly sympathetic tone of his voice came through loud and clear.

Caduceus cleared his throat and shifted more of his weight onto his staff. “Had something to do with growing up in the Savilirwood, near the rot. Got in her, and didn’t want to get out.”

They’d tried. A whole family of devotees, and Caduceus had been the Wildmother’s favored son, once upon a time. Or he felt like he’d been. Nothing they did helped, and no Divine Intervention arrived.

Caduceus spied a glint in Essek’s sunglasses. He’d narrowed his eyes, and his lips twitched like he’d figured out a puzzle and was trying to figure out now whether or not to voice the solution. “You’re not afflicted with the same rot, are you?”

Ah. Yeah. The rest of the Clays had wondered the same thing. He was the next closest in age to Clarabelle, after all.

“Nope. Just lucky.” He tried for a shrug, but it was hard when leaning on a staff.

Essek got to his feet, then resumed hovering. Caduceus looked on with a little envy at how fluid that motion was - maybe all those centuries of floating was easier on his knees. His lips twisted in thought for a second. “Or perhaps.. I wonder - have you ever been resurrected?”

“Veth blew me up one time.”

“Well, it is possible that when you came back, the resurrection took away the rot.”

“Hmm, maybe.” He didn’t really want to think about it, either way. Having a reason wouldn’t make anything feel more fair.

“Is this your first time dealing with something like this?” Essek asked.

“First funeral?” Caduceus gestured widely at the rest of the graveyard. If there was anything he knew, it was graves.

Essek looked at Caduceus from over the rim of his sunglasses. unimpressed. “You know what I meant. Is this your first death of someone that you were close to - First family member.”

“The Nein were family.” And he’d buried most of them. All except for himself and Essek, and some of their children,too.

Essek huffed in exasperation. “First person you’ve lost where you couldn’t sink into taking care of the other people grieving, because they’re too busy trying to take care of you.”

Caduceus didn’t respond. Calliope and Colton and Corus and Cait would all probably let them try to comfort them, but it didn’t feel right. Like they were just humoring him. They all needed to keep busy, too.

“You told me something when Caleb died. Do you remember what it was?”

Caduceus thought back. How long ago - two hundred years? Before Cait had been born. It had been an autumn day. “I told you that it would hurt, and that it might continue to hurt from time to time, but less often as time went on. I think I used the metaphor about a box and a ball and a target.”

Essek nodded. “I promised to tell you the same when the time came. Would you like me to?”

A wave of anger took Caduceus by surprise. “No,” he said, and then controlled himself. He knew it would be better, eventually. It didn’t help with the now.

He was so tired.

Oh. Huh. This might have explained some of the responses he’s gotten in the past.

Essek nodded and smirked briefly, his fangs poking out of his mouth. Then he stood next to Caduceus, looking at the grave.  One of Clarabelle’s old murals was painted on the wall - one with a mix of different flowers and swirls of color. One of the last things she had done was touch up some of the colors.

“Do you know a lot about those orchids?” Essek gestured to some of the purple flowers near the center, some strange yellow center around some complicated looking petals.  

“Seems like they’d be a challenge to grow.” In truth, Caduceus hadn’t known that the flowers Clarabelle had painted were orchids.

“They were made to be pollinated by - ah, I forget. Some insect that died when the gods fought in the schism. The name is not the important part.  It resembled that pistil in the center there. Long after the last of those insects died - the age of Arcanum and two Calamities have happened since - and we still know what they look like because of this flower.”

“Hmm.” Caduceus was sure Essek was going to get to a point eventually - he had his lecturing stance - but he kind of wished that Essek would get there sooner rather than later.

“There are people out there who will never know Clarabelle, but would still see the reflection she’d have on the world - through you, through Calliope and Cait and Corus, through all of those other people she’d touched through the years. They may not know her name, but they’ll know her shape.”

Essek searched Caduceus’s face again, and touched his elbow. It was a rather restrained touch, all things considered - but for Essek to initiate it, it was the equivalent of a full bodied hug.

“Someone told me something similar, back when Jester died. It helped me then. It may help you, and if not - I hope that the simple circumstance - that you still have a friend that cares and sympathizes - may bring you some solace.”

It did, in a way. Caduceus tried his best to hold onto that feeling.

“You should come inside. The rest of the family is here, and there is more food than we can ever hope to eat,” Caduceus said in response. It was the closest he could get to thank you in that moment.

Essek seemed to understand anyway.

[everything-things]

Made this outfit to go to the Critical Role Live Show in London last month. It's loosely inspired by Caduceus. I tried to take up some of the colours from his character art and decided on the design of the pink blouse based on the shirt we briefly see him wear in the animated intro. Unfortunatly, I got super sick and couldn't go to London afterall, so I have never actually worn it.

[dathen]

Happy ace week to Walter Pensive and Sherlock Holmes and Jonathan Sims and Caduceus Clay and the Audio Tour Guide and Sasha Rackett and Winona and Murderbot and Rudyard Funn and Jo March and Essek Thelyss and Miles Edgeworth and the Broker and Aubrey Killian and Zolf Smith and Keyleth and

[c-kiddo]

feeling especially so tired and disabled at the moment (so, projecting on him. because hes so disabled coded fr to meee)

[ID: a digital sketch of caduceus from critical role with pink colouring for his hair and nose. he's lying in bed under a thick duvet, reading a book with a tired expression and dizzy spiral above his head. his feet and tail are sticking out the end of the duvet. end ID]

[kendrawells]

Mighty Nein Origins: Caduceus Clay comes out this week 🌸🍵🍄

[lazywitchling]

[This is a fictionalized account of something that was communicated between myself and J, my familiar spirit. For storytelling / convenience / communication's sake, I will write it out as a conversation with words as if he were a person standing next to me, but the reality of it was less tangible and more... woo-woo. While dialog is fictional, the message that was communicated is accurate.]

--

I had my recently purchased copper pendulum in the pocket of my work jacket, and was fiddling with it in stolen moments in between stocking the walk-in cooler. I wasn't divining with it, just playing with it like a fidget toy. I had a theory about the conductivity of copper being good for communication with spirits, and judging by how apparent J was making himself, the theory was pretty sound.

"Some materials are easier for me to touch than others," he said. "Metal, stones, sticks, feathers, seeds..."

"Natural materials," I summarized.

"Sort of, but not always." It didn't exactly explain much, and my confusion was evident. So J continued with an explanation. "Show me what's in your pockets."

I pulled out two of my pocket trinkets, knowing which ones he meant. In one pocket, a small potato that had fallen onto the deli floor. A good thing to have on me to absorb unwanted 'bad vibes', of which there were many in retail. In the other pocket, a plastic d20. Not a nice one, just the generic blue one from the starter kit, so that I wouldn't be sad if it fell out of my pocket.

J 'pinged' the potato first. A nice spiritual reverberation, a sharp crack like a heeled shoe hitting a marble floor. Then he pinged the d20. A dull thud, more like a boot in mud.

"So... natural materials," I repeated.

Head shake. He indicated a wooden crate on the shelf I was stocking, then gave me an image of one of the plastic action figures on my bookshelf at home. "The action figure is easier to touch than the crate."

He'd lost me now. I was trying to figure out what the copper pendulum had to do with an action figure.

"It isn't necessarily the materials," he explained. "Natural material is one factor, yes. But narrative is also a material."

"So... my Caduceus Clay figure isn't magically resonant because he's made of plastic, but is beause he's also made of story?"

Somewhere in woo-woo land, I got the sensation of the little bell and woosh sound of a character level up in an RPG, and approval from J. The idea started clicking into place less like a slow conversation now and more like a file upload.

I had a plastic Yoda figurine that I found in my basement. He had long ago lost his robe and walking stick. The painted details on him had started to fade a long time ago. But I decided he was my Lucky Yoda, and I carried him in my pocket for every theatrical production I was part of all throughout college. When one of my cast mates was nervous about their role, I would pass Lucky Yoda off to them. 'Here, take Lucky Yoda. He'll help.' Soon enough, people would ask for him for comfort, or start asking about him during tech week to make sure I was going to remember to bring him. On days when I forgot him, the production was worse, even when I didn't mention to anyone that I hadn't brought him.

Was Lucky Yoda more or less powerful than a four leaf clover would have been? Common advice I had seen from other witchy sources said that the closer an item is to its natural state, the more powerful it will be. A tree has more power than a log which has more power than lumber which has more power than a picnic table. By this logic, Lucky Yoda should have been far removed from any sort of magic. But there was no denying that he had an effect on myself and my cast mates. (Whether or not this effect was magical or psychological is not something I'm here to debate. Believe me or don't. I'm not your priest.) A clover would have had more 'nature' magic to it, sure. But Yoda had story, and that story gave him power. J might not have been able to 'ping' Lucky Yoda as well as a clover just by nature of its materials, but the narrative of him was something that J could ping.

The ethereal concept of 'story' seemed to have a more concrete physical substance in the world of spirits. And I am reminded of the folklore that angels or fairies cannot be creative, and that the ability to create is uniquely human, a little spark of the divine in us. And in the world of spirits where everything is intangible, why wouldn't the intangible nature of a story be just as concrete as everything else in their world?

"Now you're getting it."

I found myself standing stock-still in the cooler at work, staring blankly at a half-unloaded cardboard box of packaged soup while the vaguely blob-like form of a spirit bounced happily at his student's understanding.

I shook my head off and got back to unloading. "So... story: good conductor. Copper: good conductor. Plastic: bad conductor."

"Plastic without care and creativity, yes." J gave me the image of a flimsy, shitty, plain dollar store pencil box. One of those ones where the plastic didn't form correctly, so there's little bits of sharp plastic that you can break off of the edges. "If there's anything you don't want me to touch, you can put it in one of these. But don't put stickers on it, otherwise it starts to get easier."

"I think I get it. Thanks! Here, would you like some soup?" I place a plain plastic container of soup up on the shelf.

"Ha ha."

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have nine fics dealing with Grief or Mourning -dealing with the losses in the recent episodes of Critical Role, older losses, and imagined losses still in these character's futures. Check them out beneath the cut, and remember to comment and kudos if you like them!

divorce the first by Ink_Beneath_Her_Fingernails (3496,Not Rated) Warnings: Brief mentions of Molly's death, but it's not a focus. Pairings:

Common is the only language all of the Nein share, but it's not the first language of any of them.

Reccer says: There's such an aching sense of longing and grief and mourning in this fic that leaves you with the feeling of an old pain, almost too small to bother dealing with, not that you even could, but every day it sticks around like a rock in your shoe. It manages to slip under your defenses in a way fiction about things like death can't always do, while still touching on loss. There's also some really excellent development of worldbuilding and Wildemount here.

Proud by awaytobeunshaken (557,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast

Beau isn't sure how to feel after her father's death. Caleb tries to comfort her anyway.

Reccer says: I liked it

a white and soundless place by BeatriceEagle (7064,Teen) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Pairings: Una Ermendrud & Caleb Widogast

A portrait of grief, from either side of the thing.

Reccer says: Una and Leofric feel like people, rather than saints.

psychopomp by hydraxx (3357,General) Warnings: Pairings: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Essek comes back to visit Blumenthal over the centuries after Caleb dies, while a long series of local innkeepers observe his mourning process.

Reccer says: It's a really sweet look at how Essek processes losing one of the people important to him, with background worldbuilding!

A Wisdom Without Face or Name by violettressed (17280,Teen) Warnings: major character death Pairings: Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss, Artagan & Jester Lavorre

Jester Lavorre spends a lifetime learning how to let go.

Reccer says: A great fic if you need a cry - there's little sparks of humor left by everyone being in character that make the entire thing even more heartfelt

Things to Do in Whitestone When Your Best Friend is Dead by untropicalisland (3038,General) Warnings: major character death Pairings: Ashton Greymoore & Laudna, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Ashton Greymoore

Ashton tries to make sense of FCG's death while the party regroups in Whitestone following their return from Ruidus.

Reccer says: Ashton and FCG's relationship was so great, it's nice to see something that's got Ashton processing their death. And the Percy and Ashton's dynamic is pitch perfect and *chef's kiss*

Synonym for Tragedy by thetickingclock (1060,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Orym/Dorian Storm, Fearne Calloway & Orym & Dorian Storm, Dorian Storm & Cyrus Wyvernwind, Dorian Storm & Dariax Zaveon

Dorian and his brother. The music is different now.

Reccer says: Beautiful and haunting

like wildfire, it starts in my chest by ellis (ellabellachicketychella) (1523,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Dorian Storm & Cyrus Wyvernwind, Dorian Storm & Dariax Zaveon

If this is grief then the poems got it wrong-- or, i love how dorian's grief is rage so much. i wrote a little about it

Reccer says: A brilliant character study of Dorian after episode 93

To hold, to cut by thetickingclock (1665,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

A series of vignettes about the coping with grief through shared work

Reccer says: It felt true

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be focusing on Fjord Stone! Know of something focusing on his backstory, or maybe his interior life during the campaign, that orphanage heist that happened after? You should rec it!

After that, we'll be changing things up a bit. Mentorship will be happening on the 15th, but after that, we're going to switch to a twice a month schedule - starting with Scanlan.

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

Oh! Also! Critter Gen Week is happening! We've been using the themes for our reclist - so if you're inspired by what you're reading, consider writing (or making art) for that week!

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

This week, we have seven shadowgast character studies! Featuring looks at aftereffects of manipulation, poverty, learning how to work as a team, and more. Check the out under the cut, and as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

to love something small by jakia (9662, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Abusive/Neglectful parenting

Essek, the Mighty Nein, and the slow road to redemption

Reccer says: A comfort fic for me, I return to it again and again. Love this look into Essek

swallowed with all hope by renquise (14319, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In Eiselcross, Essek writes reports, makes new acquaintances, tries not to die in snowstorms, and thinks of all the things he did and could have done.

Reccer says: THEE Essek at the Vurmas Outpost fic, IMO. Thoughtful and amazing worldbuilding and so much heart.

clear waters by wanderinghooves (5951, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In which Essek communes with the Wildmother, eats soup, and is in love with Caleb Widogast.

Reccer says: The conversation with Melora is great, but what I really love are the other characters in this - Fjord and Caduceus and various glimpses of other Clay siblings

poisoning the well by saturdaysky (1549, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Old habits are hard to break, even if you have shed the skin that formed them.

Reccer says: A short fic that really delves into Caleb's past and how hard those thought patterns can be to break - angsty in the best way

of more delight than hawks and horses by Anonymous (1431, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb, Essek, gifts, and money

Reccer says: I love this little look in how different members of the nein are about money, and how thoughtful it is

simple math by SaltCore (4310, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Beau knows Essek can be ruthless, and she knows he loves Caleb. The point where these facts meet still manages to surprise her, and she never has been able to let anything lie.

Reccer says: A look at how ruthless Essek can still be - great Beau voice, great Essek voice, and also a look at how Essek might be on the Nein's side, but that doesn't mean he's fully reformed

a place to call home by DotyTakeThisDown (1015, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek has a surprise for Caleb.

Reccer says: It's soft and sweet - and the tower as insight to Essek's mind is one of my favorite tropes

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with a recurring theme - Hidden Gems (fic with fewer than 150 kudos)

[its-your-mind]

on this the eve of the m9 reunion I for one would like to wish the most VISIBLE of weeks to canon aspec icons caduceus clay and essek thelyss. both have AMAZING senses of fashion. have worked hard to be POWERFUL spellcasters. can walk into a room and have an IMMEDIATE vibe check on every person in it. have not a SINGLE social skill between them. an absolute pleasure to have them both playing for the “eh… don’t get it” team. ty matt and taliesin for your service.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Colette Clay

Pairing: Cold Graves, with special guest @hyperionshipping and Caleb

Warning: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth

“Oh, Nic, she’s soooo cute!” Jester squealed as the Nein gazed at the week old baby nestled in Nic’s arms. The Firbolg was smaller than average, but bigger than any human baby. She was covered in a silver-gray fur with a small tuft of brown hair on the top of her head in a little mohawk.

They were gathered in the center of the grove, relaxing on the grass and blankets set up. Nic chuckled at Jester’s words, bouncing her daughter gently. Caduceus joined the group, setting down a small array of food before sitting beside his partner.

“She’s not as cute when she’s crying at midnight,” Nic teased, tickling her daughter’s nose with her finger.

“What’s her name?” Beau asked, staring skeptically at the baby. Did she and Yasha want kids? They had talked about it on and off over the last decade.

“Colette,” Caduceus told them softly.

Nic giggled. “Have to keep up the tradition after all.”

“So how many are you two planning on having?” Caleb asked, already in his brain planning on how to rearrange Caduceus and Nic’s shared room in the tower to accommodate the new addition. “Are you one and done, or can we expect more little ones?”

“Oh, um…” Nic and Caduceus looked at each other. Did they want more children? Colette was a surprise, but planning out more kids seemed logical.

“For now she’s an only child,” Caduceus answered, giving his finger to Colette who tightly gripped subconsciously.

“Yeah, I mean, you know Cad and I aren’t all that into sex anyway. It was just a one time thing and it resulted in our little rainbow, so for now just one,” Nic added.

“Well, you know, if the two of you ever need a break you have a few options for babysitters,” Caleb said, smiling softly as Tricks leaned against his back, the tiefling draping his arms over the wizard’s shoulders.

Nic couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “I love you guys, but I trust none of you with my daughter.”

“What about Veth? She’s a mom.” Yasha suggested, pointing to the rogue who was making silly faces at Colette. She had yet to giggle.

“As a mom, she’s wonderful, but as an aunt…” Nic sucked in a breath. “I fear she’ll be a terrible influence.”

“What about me?!” Jester protested.

“You’d be the worst influence,” Caduceus replied light-heartedly.

Jester pouted, leaning against Fjord’s chest with her arms crossed. Her fiancé rolled his eyes playfully. “Can we at least hold her?” Jester asked.

Nic tensed at the question. Since the moment Colette entered the world she had a strong protectiveness over her daughter. It took her a whole day to gather the courage to let Caduceus’s parents hold their granddaughter. But the Nein? Sure, they were her and Caduceus’s closest friends, but they weren’t known for being careful.

Sensing her anxiety, Caduceus rested a hand on her back and subtly casted Calm Emotion on her. Nic eased, relaxing at his touch and letting out a sigh. He had been using it on her more and more lately. She was a ball of nerves, and that spell was the only thing giving her any sense of peace.

“If any of you drop her, you will be blighted,” Nic threatened calmly, looking at Fjord.

He was taken aback by her staring directly at him. He was offended at the accusation. “Why did you look at me when you said that?”

“Honestly, Fjord, you are kind of clumsy,” Jester told him matter-of-factly.

“I am not clumsy!” he objected.

“I’ll hold her first,” Beau begrudgingly offered, holding out her arms. Nic placed Colette in the monk’s arms and helped Beau position her arms so the baby was comfortable. She stiffened up as she held the newborn, afraid to move and hurt her. Yasha didn’t miss a beat and began cooing at the baby.

“Oh look at you. Look at your little cheeks. And those ears, they’re so floppy and cute,” the barbarian put on a baby voice, gently squishing Colette’s cheeks. “I could just eat you up. Yes, I could. Yes I could.”

“So how are you feeling?” Tricks asked Nic, moving to settle in Caleb’s lap.

“Greater restoration, some healing spells, and I feel great,” Nic waved her hand. “But I’m so exhausted. She eats so much, and so often. I feel like Veth’s endless flask. But this is nothing compared to the actual labor. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was a whole week.”

“I could barely get her to sit still long enough to eat,” Caduceus chimed in, handing Nic a cup of tea he poured. “But Colette’s birth was special.”

“I wanted her to be born outside in nature so I gave birth out here in the yard of the grove,” Nic told them. “Actually, she was born directly in that spot you’re sitting on, Fjord.” She pointed to the half-orc.

“What? Oh, ew.” He pushed Jester off and moved to the side, off the spot Nic was talking about.

“She was born in the rain, though. It was actually a sunshower. You know, when it’s raining but it’s sunny out,” Nic said, taking a sip of her tea. “And afterwards, when it stopped raining, we looked up and saw the most beautiful and vibrant rainbow ever.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Jester sighed dreamily.

“Don’t do it. Don’t give birth. It’s hell. I’ve been stabbed in the stomach and it was less painful that having a baby,” Nic warned, snuggling into Caduceus’s side.

After a few minutes Beau leaned over and quickly placed Colette in Fjord’s arms. He let out a yelp, not expecting to be handed the newborn. “Here Fjord, you hold her,” Beau said. She couldn’t wait to pass off the baby.

“Ah!” He was startled, cradling Colette carefully. Nic’s threat echoed in his mind. “Good… baby.”

“She’s not a dog!” Veth snapped.

“I don’t know! I’ve never held a baby before!” Fjord exclaimed nervously.

“It’s not that hard,” Jester said, taking her from him.

“Be careful with her. I spent ten months making her,” Nic said, a bit anxious as she watched Colette be passed from person to person.

As if on cue, Colette started to cry. The shrill scream pierced the moment and it set Nic on edge as she was already reaching for her daughter. She took the baby from Jester as Veth spoke up.

“Way to go Fjord!”

“What did I do?” Fjord asked.

“It’s not you,” Caduceus assured, watching as Colette clung to her mother. “She’s hungry.”

“Again,” Nic said, standing up. “Excuse me.” She walked away, heading into the temple to feed Colette.

“It seems like a lot of work to take care of a baby,” Jester commented.

“Actually Colette has been an easy baby so far,” Caduceus told her. “It’s Nic that’s been a handful.”