#circus of the last days

[nobigneil]

"Of course, what fun! I'm going to fucking kill you"

[cyberneticghosts]

Don’t worry, they don’t really mean it (they think), it’s a bluff (mostly).

(Resists the Urge but it does help with intimidation rolls).

Riithtethel is missing a horn, an eye (traded it to the hag) and has scars from Orin and boooooyyy does it scare people shitless.

Also I was originally gonna draw them in the adamantine plait armor, as a fighter, but it would have taken forever to draw… I’m doing a monk class run anyway.

[red-dead-sakharine]

Bring your devil to the circus

Raphael x Tav/Reader tags: gn!Tav, soft grumpy raphael, humor, fluff, tiny bit hurt/comfort

Who needs the orphic hammer, when you can negotiate a much sweeter deal? This is a silly idea that popped into my head, and I'm making y'all suffer through it as well.

"Done." you put the quill down, and Raphael immediately made the contract vanish - to his House of Hope, no doubt - the ink barely dry yet.

"A pleasure, little mouse. I daresay this was quite the bargain. Had I known of your proclivities, I would've--"

"Come!" you didn't even let him finish. He was just puffing hot air right now, and you just - could - not - wait - to get your part of the deal. Grabbing his wrist, you yoinked him after yourself out the door, dragging him down the stairs through Sharess' caress with glee.

He grumbled to himself but followed your lead. After all, he had agreed to this deal - although he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake. There weren't any loopholes he might've overlooked, right? No, no, there couldn't be. He wrote the damn contract himself, after all!

Out of the door and up the street you went, still keeping his wrist in your clutches. He had fallen into pace, though he still tried to free his arm every now and again, but your grip was iron. The mischief on your mind was just too good.

"I am quite capable to walk on my own, little mouse." there was a warning in the way he said those last two words, but you ignored it. He had agreed to play along for 24 hours, and by the gods you would make the most of it. You had - both - insisted on putting in a clause preventing abuse, injury, and the like, but most other activities where fair game. If you wanted him to play on a seesaw, he would have to comply.

As you approached the entrance to the circus, realization dawned in Raphael, "Oh no. No!" You giggled, keeping your iron grip on his wrist. "You will not make me go to the damn circus!" "Oh, I very much will!" you turned to look at him, grinning from ear-to-ear. He looked like he wanted to protest but decided differently. He was bound by contract after all. Instead he gave you the darkest of glares, "Had I known what kind of a heinous sadist you are, I wouldn't have agreed to this." You just laughed gleefully, and approached the bouncer with his ghoul at the gate.

The ghoul, Benji, took one long sniff and started shouting, with a claw pointed at Raphael, "STINKY! SMELLS OF EGGS!"

You could feel Raphael vibrate with annoyance and barely contained rage, so you gave him a little pat on the arm with your free hand, "There, there. It's just a stupid ghoul."

"BENJI NO STUPID! THIS ONE'S STINKY!"

You were sure, the deep growl Raphael produced, could be felt through the ground.

Benji's human handler gave a nervous chuckle, "Oh well, smelling a bit funny isn't a crime. Come on in! Welcome to the Circus of the Last Days!" You could practically feel the annoyance radiating from Raphael as you dragged him through the gates.

"Look, it's not that bad." you tried to calm him down at least a little bit, "I promise, if a clown tries to boop your nose, I'll let you incinerate him." He groaned, but you could feel him grow a little less rigid, "How kind and utterly unheroic of you. And here I thought you were a committed do-gooder." "I have my limits. Clowns are one." you replied flatly, and it actually made Raphael give an amused snort. "Maybe there is hope for you yet, little mouse." He took a deep breath, letting his gaze wander over the dreadful place he found himself in, "Now what, pray tell, do you want me to do here?"

You gave him an impish grin, "First we'll go spin the wheel!" He rolled his eyes, as you dragged him forward, your hand still firmly clutching his wrist.

"WILL THE WHEEL OF WONDERS DUB YOU WORTHY? COME - SEE!" you heard the djinni yell as you made you way towards him, "BEHOLD - AKABI'S WHEEL OF WONDERS. SPIN TO WIN PRIZES BEYOND YOUR TINY MORTAL IMAGINATION." "YES, WE WANT TO SPIN THE WHEEL!" you yelled back, and you could hear Raphael's hand smack against his forehead as he facepalmed next to you. "AHA! FIRST YOU MUST PAY!" You looked expectantly at Raphael, who eventually looked up from his facepalming, his eyes finding yours. Then his expression slowly changed from an unspoken 'what?' to a glower, "Surely, you do not expect me to pay for this nonsense, little mouse." "Of course! You're the gentleman here, I'm just a mouse." you grinned at him, and you could see his jaw muscles clench. Grumbling and muttering curses in infernal, he dished out the money, so you could spin the wheel.

"LET US SEE IF YOU HAVE LUCK'S FAVOUR." Akabi barked, and the wheel spun. You side-eyed Raphael, who was watching the wheel and the djinni intently. When it landed on a blank, he scoffed, "I'm not surprised a djinni would stoop to rigging a game of luck. But this is just pathetic." "You would accuse me, Akabi: Destroyer of Planes - of cheating?" the djinni had lowered the volume to indoor voice for the first time you've seen, and it gave you such a kick to know that Raphael was the cause. You finally relaxed your iron grip on his wrist and instead slid your hand down to interlock your fingers with his - though he did not reciprocate, he also did not pull away. "I'm only pointing out the obvious, 'destroyer of planes'," Raphael managed to make the title sound like an insult, "Wouldn't it be such a shame, if everyone knew what a fraud you are. And pathetic on top, having to rely on a magic ring for your trickery." He scoffed.

You could see the djinni grow angry, and began to wonder who would win in a fight between the two. "How about you give my companion here one of your prizes and we'll just move on?" Raphael offered, and the djinni seemed annoyed but caved, "FINE! CONGRATULATIONS, MORTAL!" he chucked a ring at you, which you barely managed to catch with your free hand, "NOW BEGONE, MEWLING CURD!"

You grinned, and gently tugged Raphael away from the disgruntled djinni. It didn't take much to sense the ring was enchanted - you would let Gale have a look at it later, and pocketed it. This was never about any prizes after all. "That was brilliant!" you beamed at Raphael, who only gave you a sideways glance in return. But you could still see the slight smirk that was tugging on his lips. He sighed theatrically, "I'll admit, it was entertaining to put the puffed up windbag into its place." "I knew you'd enjoy yourself here." you replied with a grin, as you started wandering towards your next target, still holding the devil's uncaring hand. "Now, don't exaggerate - this entire place is still revolting to me." he wrinkled his nose, and you rolled your eyes.

You approached the dryad entertaining a small crowd on her wooden dais, and you could feel Raphael lag behind a little. You held his hand tighter - he still didn't reciprocate - and pulled him gently forward. "It's a dryad." he stated, as if this would deter you from your course. "I can see that." you replied simply. "Boring, plant-loving creatures. What could you possible want from one?" "You'll see." you dragged him up the stairs towards the wood-skinned woman, and you could all but feel Raphael's bored annoyance as he was contractually obligated to follow along.

"You return to me, stira. Have you brought the one you spoke of?" the dryad, Zethino, greeted you. Raphael gave you a look - something between anger and curiosity, but you deliberately avoided looking at him directly, instead focusing on Zethino, "I have. Can we do the thing?" "What thing?" Raphael cut in, tone harsh. "You were not told?" Zethino's melodic voice offered a stark contrast to Raphael's. "Told what?" The dryad looked at you and you held up your free hand, "It's a surprise?" you offered as a flimsy explanation. She looked back at Raphael, her eyes wandering over him, then back to you, "Stira, he is not what he seems." "Oh, I'm well aware." you assured her, "That's not a problem for you, is it?" She cocked her head slightly, looking between you two, "Not for me, no." "Okay great! Let's do the thing then." you tried to hurry this along, before the devil popped a blood vessel. "What. Thing." he asked again; his tone more menacing now.

"I will look into your hearts and see if your bond is strong." the dryad's melodic voice explained, and Raphael's brow furrowed, his eyes wandering from you to her now, "'Our bond'?" he echoed in confusion, and you tugged slightly on his hand, that you were still holding. He looked down to the joined appendages, then up to you, then to the dryad, then back to you. You've never seen a man this confused. "Let's just start." you stage-whispered, and the dryad smiled. "Close your eyes. Be still as stone to earth, and remember to breathe." she instructed with her melodic voice.

You did as asked. Technically, Raphael was obligated to play along - the contract made sure of that - so you hoped it would work.

"I see you." you heard the dryad muse, "Know you. But do you know each other?" You heard Raphael scoff. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in front of a log, crossing a small creek, with a waterfall in the background. Raphael was on the other side, looking wholly unimpressed.

"Listen. Think. Raphael, the devil in disguise, what does he most desire in this world?" the dryad asked you in her singsong voice. You clicked your tongue, "Easy. The crown of Karsus, so he can stick it to his father Mephistopheles." Raphael raised a surprised brow, "How do you know who my father is?" "I asked Yurgir, why he was so afraid of a cambion, before I talked him into killing himself." you explained with a grin, and stepped onto the log. Raphael didn't say anything in response, but judging by his expression, he was impressed.

Zethino turned to Raphael, "And Tav, the unexpected hero. What drives them in their journey?" The disguised cambion snorted, "Low hanging fruit. Get rid of the tadpole, and make people happy along the way." He sounded dismissive, as if it was a damnable flaw of yours, but the fact that he knew it off the cuff like that, made you grin. "Quite right. Spreading a bit of happiness never hurt." you smiled. He scoffed. The dryad pushed him gently a few steps onto the log.

She turned to you again, "Your bond hums in tune. There is sunshine, but there is also rain. What does Raphael loathe?" You cocked your head a little and looked at him, thinking for a moment before you responded, "Chaotic, untidy disorder, and bad manners!" Raphael narrowed his eyes, "It's true. There are many things about your world that I loathe. Chattering children, litters of kittens, the noise, and the chaos of it all." You smiled and stepped forward, "You and me, both." He raised a brow and looked like he wanted to question that statement, but Zethino cut him off.

"And what does Tav despise the most?" Raphael looked at the dryad, then to you, "People who hurt dogs." You had to laugh, "It's true! There's nothing more deserving of punishment in the hells, than hitting a dog. But, how did you figure that one out?" Raphael brushed his nails on his doublet, looking as non-chelant as can be, "Oh, I just heard the Sword Coast Couriers are missing a kennel master." he looked at you with an impish grin that oozed approval. Likely more of your method, than your defence of animals though. And it was true. After seeing how the lady at the kennels had treated her dogs, and raised a hand to Scratch when you brought him by, it wasn't a hard decision to drive dagger through her eye. Raphael took a step closer.

"Your bond beats in pleasure. It is an honor to behold." the dryad sang, "But does it hold in darkness still? What is Raphael's deepest shame?" You could see the fiend's brow furrow, and heard him mutter something about stupid questions. The waterfall was too noisy to make out his exact words, as you regarded him for a bit, while pondering. He crossed his arms and stared down at the water while he waited. You had an inkling what the answer was, but you weren't sure if it was something you should say out loud. But in the end, you figured you came up with the right words, so you responded, "Being a cambion and not a true devil. But--" You could see the change in his expression, from grumpy to... alarm? to anger. And his gaze turned on you, burning hot. You held up a hand in a calming gesture, "--but I don't think it has to be. He's the most devilish devil I can imagine. And he'll always be a true devil to me." You offered a smile. It was genuine, and heartfelt, and honest. You meant every word of it, and you hoped he was able to see that. His eyes grew a bit softer, but you couldn't quite interpret his expression, and he didn't say anything. He did make a small gesture though, signalling for you to step closer. And so you did.

The dryad, perhaps wisely, did not comment on what was said and instead continued, "One more question remains, we move back into the sun - what was Tav's greatest joy?" You could practically feel Raphael's gaze rake over you, while he pondered. His arms were still crossed, but he lifted one hand now to rub his chin in thought. He hummed before he eventually offered a response, "Signing my contract." You couldn't prevent a wide grin from growing on your face, "I can think of a few other joyous moments in my life, but I'll admit, that was one of them." Raphael smirked and stepped closer, dropping his arms to his sides.

You stood in front of each other now, and you held his gaze. Looking into those big brown eyes of his. Smiling eyes.

"I press my finger to your bond and find a hidden shield - unrecognized yet, but impenetrable if embraced. It is... beautiful." Zethino mused in her melodic voice, and the meadow around you vanished - replaced with the circus again. "Go in peace, seedlings, and follow your hearts. The most unusual bond I have been graced to witness - it will be just as strong as it is strange."

"Thank you." you managed to say, and took Raphael's hand again to drag him away from the dais. You interlocked your fingers with his once more, and this time he closed his hand around yours, too.

[greycloakofevereska]

Lucretious

BG3 NPC'S 4/?

[medra-gonbites]

Gale, buddy, what are you looking at ?

Oh -...?

Well, it's a little rude to stare like that but I get it.

Why, yes, I would like to take the love test !

(once my partner is done smouldering at your glorious breasts.)

[3gremlins]

i love this kobold merchant and their cute, jaunty little hat, like 10/10 no notes

(okay one note, i would like them to come join my camp please)

[cchickki]

Gale’s love test 💜

[scuttlingcrab]

The Great Hunt

An Absolute Waste of Time

Summary: Raphael is MAD. So full of rage and malice he is about to burn down the entire Sword Coast before the Mind Flayers even arrive. What could possibly get the Devil's knickers in such a twist? Tav, oh that cheeky little mouse, sold the Orphic Hammer. And for what? Gold, of all things.

In this second instalment, Raphael tears through Baldur's Gate, from the Circus of the Last days to the Blushing Mermaid, trying to locate it.

He has never stooped so low…

Check out PART 01: In Search of a Hammer here!

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

The Devil stood in an alleyway across from the Beehive General Goods, feasting his eyes on the flames as they devoured that worthless shop whole. The building was destroyed faster than thought, leaving nothing left but a lump of charred scraps. That didn’t stop a throng of mortals from gathering; just like maggots infesting a corpse, they quickly exchanged gossip in a hushed buzz, chewing over theories as to what could’ve possibly caused such a tragedy. 

Muffled squeaks came from below Raphael, the noise grating against his ears. He gazed towards the sound, sending a stabbing look at the creature responsible for creating such an annoying racket. A large rat was confined in a jar, frantically clawing its glass prison in an attempt to escape. Raphael’s smile held a touch of mockery as he picked it up, rocking it only just to cause the rat to fall over. 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, my dear Oliver.” Raphael whispered, bringing the glass closer to his mouth. He hissed at the rat, briefly showcasing his Devilish fangs before concealing them again. “The next time someone calls upon you, asking for a particular item, it would be in your best interest to show them the utmost respect. That is, if you’ll ever be fortunate enough to walk this earth on two legs again.”

The rat’s beady eyes widened as it recoiled, finding no means of escaping Raphael’s scathing glare. Instead the creature screeched in terror and began running around in circles. Pathetic. Raphael halfheartedly discarded the jar, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked deeper into the alley, further removing himself from the growing chaos in the streets. 

As cathartic as it was admiring his work, and torturing that insufferable shop owner, it would get him nowhere. Time waits for no man, or Devil, and Raphael had to act quickly if he was ever going to succeed in his plights to unite the Hells. 

Raphael nearly shattered Oliver Tefoco’s soul into a million pieces, threatening to simmer his corpse in a cauldron and make jam of his remains. He would sooner have fed that to a stray dog than let his tongue touch such filth, but Oliver was none the wiser. All this effort just to extract what was needed from that worthless creature. The whereabouts of the Orphic Hammer. He got his answer, eventually. These maddening mortals would be the death of him, they had no ounce of intellect, no common sense, throwing around an item as valuable as the Hammer like it was yesterday’s trash.  

The Devil stopped abruptly, resting his hand against his hip. His chest tightened, his breathing growing more erratic as his heart began to convulse. No. His fingers burned, the tips pulsing red, on the verge of erupting into Hellfire at any moment.

Raphael needed to restrain his temper. After all, he was saving it for one person in particular, the very mortal who deserved all his wrath, and all the pain and suffering that would soon come raining down upon them. Tav. The sole fool responsible for these recent inconveniences and his current rampage through Baldur’s Gate. If they hadn’t so gleefully sold the Orphic Hammer for gold, Raphael would be sitting comfortably in his best silks, sampling his most decadent wines, and waiting for the final battle to begin. It’s that same little shit who had somehow lodged themselves straight into his head, becoming his very own parasite. Any other unfortunate mortals who just so happened to get caught in his fiery rage were merely collateral. They could all burn, turn to ash, for all he cared. He wouldn’t stop until he had the Hammer and his Crown.

Snap!

A fiery gateway appeared before him and he stomped through towards his next destination: The Circus of the Last Days. 

--

Popper the Kobold was having the very best day of his entire life. Well, maybe that wasn’t true, he’s had plenty of good days, he could count them all on one hand. Wait, no both hands. He was sure he had more good days than this. To be honest, he couldn’t remember much of what happened yesterday. He was too focused on the juicy prize in front of him as he dragged a fresh corpse through the Circus of the Last Days, leaving a trail of blood behind him. 

He just couldn’t believe his luck, like earlier, buying that hammer for practically nothing! His very first hammer too! What a deal. It was the biggest, prettiest hammer he had ever seen, the top reminded him of blood, tasty blood, that’s why he liked it so much. And it sparkled like a diamond. He was really looking forward to smashing things with it, lots of different things, but then he found that corpse. Oh, yes. Nothing was better than a fresh body stuffed with loot. He practically skipped all the way back to the Circus as he hauled it, so chuffed with his little ol’ self for making such a swap. Probably his bestest swap ever! 

Popper swatted away all the nasty looks from the humans as he pushed through the crowd at the Circus’ entrance. They all stared at him like they knew the dead person he was holding. He even made a few of those smaller, weaker humans cry and run away, but he paid them no mind. Maybe they’ve never seen such a delicious snack before. Maybe they were jealous… that’s right, jealous! He better get straight to business then, the sooner he could pull that body apart, the faster he’d be left alone. It would be no good, absolutely no good, if Lucretious noticed he brought another corpse to the Circus. They’d steal it, just like the others! And experiment on it with their dirty magic. This was his corpse! His! He’d show them!

The Kobold finally reached his tent and threw the corpse in the centre of his living space, quickly scurrying to a large crate stuffed in the back, near the privies. He dug through the crate, packed with all his very favourite toys, pulling out random scissors, broken knives, and even a few odd bits of monster parts, things he definitely forgot were in there… until he finally found it: a large rusted cleaver. It was covered in a thick layer of grime. It had seen lots and lots of bodies, yes it had!

“This is most perfect!” Popper explained, to nobody but himself.

Whack, whack, thump, whack. 

He immediately began slicing at the corpse, hacking off limbs in no particular order or with any care, licking his lips as he pulled apart an arm and ripped up a leg. Before long, he got himself into a rhythm, chopping faster as his stomach growled with excitement. Oh, the treatos he would have!

Popper was nearly finished too, until he stopped, unexpectedly distracted. He scrunched his snout, tilting his head up high as he smelled the air around him. He stuck his tongue out, licking the air like it was an icy treat. Something smelled like burning and tasted rotten, like the Hells. 

Screaming came from the crowd near the stage as Popper watched a thick coat of smoke rise into the air like a huge balloon.

“Maybe they’s be adding some new magics? Or… they’s really be loving Dribbles’ new replacement?” Popper whispered, nodding to himself. He was ready to start again, but he noticed something else, something weird coming towards him.

A tall man, dressed real fancy like, definitely not in normal people's clothes, pushed through the other humans; not even saying ‘scuse me as he did so. The ground at his feet turned black as he came towards him. Oh, this man was mad. His face was all scrunched up, his mouth curling in all sorts of directions. Maybe he ate something that didn’t agree with him? But the oddest thing of all, this man was staring directly at Popper! Giving him a creepy look, meaner than anything he’d ever seen, even from Lucretius. 

“You!” The man shouted, his voice shot through the air like an arrow, making Popper drop his cleaver. 

“Y-you come for me? You must be wanting my treatos!” 

The man was very tall, casting a long shadow over Popper. The Kobold nearly fell over looking up at him. 

“Oooh! You is casting some real fancy magics.” Popper pointed at the ground as flames appeared at the man’s feet, like he was standing in the middle of a campfire. “You is the most perfects human for the stage, sirs, has you—“

“Treato…?” The man began, his face getting more twisted, just like the roots of a tree. Actually, the more Popper stared at the man, the more he realised his eyes were the scariest, most terrifying things he had ever seen. There was definitely fire in those black eyes.

“Uh… yes? Duh! Treatos. I have lots. Is that not why you’s are here? Popper only has the bestest treatos, yes sirs. And magics. If you has any—“

“If I cracked open your skull…” the man continued, “what would I find inside? Hmm? Oh, I know. There would be no brain, that’s for certain. If there was anything, I would imagine it to be the size of a grain of rice. Undetectable to even the most skilled physicians.”

“Yous what? Take your fancy smelly clothes and eat shit, you human bastard! I has the biggest brain and I is…”

Popper had a poor temper. He always got in a lot of trouble for snapping at customers if they said certain things to him. Once or twice, well maybe more than that, he bit someone’s hand clean off. And another time, he nibbled at an elf's toes. All because they said his treatos were mouldy! Nobody makes fun of Popper. Their toes didn’t taste any better. He hasn’t done that for a while though. Lucretious would fire him right out. And he needed this job. But boy, did Popper want to bite this man. Real good. 

The man pointed his long fingers at Popper and he noticed the man’s skin was red, just like his, and he had long black fingernails. All of a sudden, Popper wasn’t very hungry anymore. 

“You will cease this stupidity at once.” The man’s voice was low, as if a growl. “I have wasted enough time already. So we will cut to the chase. Heed carefully what I say, you flaming imbecile. And you will answer me plainly. Else I will take you far away from here and slowly pick your worthless body apart, scale by scale, until nothing remains.”

Popper gulped, his tail curling between his legs. The only thing he could do was nod back at this man, who really wasn’t much of a man, the more Popper thought about it. 

“Good.” The man said, placing his hands on his hips. “Where is my hammer? I know you have it. I spent the last hour torturing a man only for him to cry out your name repeatedly.” There was a long pause as Popper stared up at the man, unsure what to say, confused as to why this man would be torturing anyone, let alone looking for a hammer. “Do I need to spell it out? Perhaps I need to use a simpler language for the likes of you.” 

The man leaned down, within inches of Popper’s face.

“Oh… Oh!” Popper raised his finger in the air as he just realised something. “I in fact, once had a hammer. But not for very long, you sees, it just so happens…” 

Popper continued to tell the man how he came to find the hammer, the one matching his exact description, which Popper found very funny. What were the odds! But he stopped laughing when the man glared at him again, showing some sharp teeth when he grinned. Which wasn’t very gentlemanly. 

At that moment, the Kobold wished he still had that hammer. So this man could go away and he could go back to doing other stuff. Like thinking about what he was going to eat for supper. Actually, the more Popper thought about it… that corpse probably wasn’t worth it. This was turning out to be too much trouble. Maybe it wasn’t his lucky day after all. He even found himself wanting to apologise for all the times he ever wished terrible things on Lucretius. 

They weren’t so bad. Or scary.

Not at all. 

--

Raphael despised the Circus of the Last Days. It was a vile place. Absolutely vile, the lot of it. He couldn’t fathom these mortal buffoons parading around and calling themselves enterainters. And the worst part of all? The clowns. They were a mockery of the stage and its true purpose. There was no art in what they claimed to achieve. He hoped a few of them might perish in the day’s ahead. And by no means a quick death either. Something excruciatingly slow and agonising. Like roasting their bodies over a spit of Hellfire, a thousand times over.

These raging thoughts grew bloodier, more gruesome as he moved on, going from one location to the next. He was certain his heart could sink no further, but he was quickly mistaken as his search for the Orphic Hammer proved to be never-ending. Somehow, the damned thing kept evading him, always missing it by mere moments as it was handed on to the next moron who decided to gamble with their fate. Raphael’s anxiety grew worse, wrapping around him like the tendrils of a Mind Flayer; squeezing his limbs, crawling up his neck as he progressively found it harder to breathe, to concentrate. 

Of course Raphael had no issues getting what he wanted from Popper. But that itself came at a cost. Raphael had received too much information, practically hearing that creature’s entire life story. No detail was spared. It would forever be ingrained in Raphael’s memory, the monotony, the stupidity, of it all. 

In the end, Popper had met a band of mercenaries and traded the Hammer for a corpse. A putrid corpse. Raphael eventually tracked them down, the group lurking about some caves near the Lower City like a bunch of thieves. But did they have the Hammer? Of. Course. Not. It couldn’t have been that easy. They had lost it. Naturally. In the sewers, of all places, abandoning it after they came across some wizard. Or so they said. He was very much looking forward to meeting this ‘supposed’ wizard. Before Raphael left the mercenaries to their business, he viciously snapped his fingers, causing all their precious loot to melt away at their fingertips. The ones who had it on hand screamed in agony as the gold, the necklaces, even some of their armour and swords, merged with their flesh. Served them right.

“Bah!” Raphael screamed, his voice echoing off the slimy sewer walls. When the sound faded, the only thing he could hear was the continuous dripping of water as it leaked from the decaying ceilings above him. 

Raphael was lost, wandering the sewer system beneath Baldur’s Gate for what felt like days, years even. His boots were soiled, completely ruined. He was covered in filth up to his knees as he trudged through the cesspool. He would certainly be burning this entire outfit when he was through. No spell or potion would be able to cause these rancid smells to disappear. A shame, really. This was one of his favourite doublets. 

As he manoeuvred his way through the snaking, narrow pipes, he made a mental note to revise Tav’s current contract; adding in an additional clause, or perhaps two, for every minute he spent searching for the Hammer, and for the ruination of his wardrobe. 

The stench of the sewers progressively worsened as Raphal entered a large chamber, the excrement somehow smelling more bitter. He took a step forward and nearly slipped, holding onto the crate next to him to avoid falling face first in the muck. He looked down, only to discover he was stepping in grease. 

“I will wring their sorry, little, pathetic neck!” Raphael cursed, steadying himself as he began to take careful, calculated steps through the rest of the chamber.

“What’s this cousin?” A squeaky voice spoke as a Drow appeared from behind a corner, revealing themselves rather flamboyantly. He was dripping in the same greasy substance that covered the floor, and surrounded by what seemed like an army of grease elementals and mephits. 

The Drow pointed at Raphael, “Ah! It is but another Absolutist, come to see what we–” 

Raphael took one look at the Drow and rolled his eyes. 

Snap!

The entire room instantly turned into an inferno, every creature within the vicinity of the grease was consumed by flames. Their screams lost against the raging fire. Raphael didn’t even know who that Drow was, nor did he care. There was no more time for talking. 

He continued through the extensive network of sewage pipes, navigating every underground hallway, tearing apart every room as he dug through boxes and discarded chests, but he found no Hammer.

He eventually stumbled upon a man standing alone in a hallway. The mortal was dressed in plain armour, his face riddled with all sorts of interesting scars. Perhaps at another time he would've loved to pry open that mortal and find out how he got those marks. There was no one else around him, and he simply stared at Raphael, with absolutely no care in the world. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen an Orphic Hammer floating around this cesspit? Hmm?” Raphael said as he approached the man, standing in front of him. 

The man held Raphael’s gaze, but he did not respond.

Raphael gritted his teeth, his fists trembling as he raised one hand in the air, preparing his thumb and middle finger for this man’s immediate extermination. The Devil was emotionally exhausted; the weight of it all, his infernal obligations, his hopes, his doomed destiny… it threatened his strength, his resolve. If he sat down, slumping against the grimy walls of the sewer, he would fall into a deep sleep from which he might never awaken. Hammer or not, this charade needed to end, this unfortunate act was going on for far too long. Raphael almost wanted to applaud the entire situation, for whoever was behind the scenes orchestrating his madness. His despair. How many more mortals would he need to obliterate before he found the Hammer? If he found it at all? Flames appeared at his fingertips as he held the pose, his anger building. The mysterious man didn’t even blink.

“Raphael?” Spoke a familiar, low voice. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

He twirled around at the mention of his name, only to find Mol staring at him from the opposite end of the hallway. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised as she gaped at him in confusion, holding a small dagger in her hands. 

“A most welcoming sight indeed.” Raphael dropped the flames, clapping his hands together with relief as his temper cooled. 

Mol grinned, sheathing her dagger. 

“That one doesn’t talk, by the way. Which is really annoying, if you ask me.” There was a brief pause as Mol eyed Raphael up and down, “Say, what are you even doing down here? I heard a HUGE explosion and came running out of the Guild. Thought it might’ve been, you know… the end of the world.” Mol spoke the last few words in a hushed whisper. 

A tiny sliver of hope fluttered in Raphael’s heart as he looked down at Mol, she could be the one who got Raphael out of this mess. The Tiefling could have the answers, a lead, something! She was resourceful, had her eyes and ears all over the city. There was a reason he had secured a deal with her in the first place. Mol's soul was one thing, but she had potential, promise, he never doubted her for a second.  

“As much as I’d love to catch-up with my budding protégé, I must act swiftly. I have no time for pleasantries, I’m afraid. I do have but a small favour to ask of you, however.”

Mol’s eyes lit up like fireflies. 

“Anything!” 

Raphael leaned towards Mol, his face growing serious.

“My Orphic Hammer is missing. You know the one. I’ve seen you snooping about my archives, flipping audaciously through some restricted documents.” 

Mol’s cheeks turned red and her eyebrows raised, only for a moment, but she did not look away from Raphael. She was guilty, yes, but not ashamed. A valiant trait.

“Nothing escapes me, but if it was anyone else and I’d have incinerated them on the spot. Now, please, do you know where it could be? Have you heard anything that might be useful? Time, my dear Mol, as you know, is of the essence.” 

“Hmm…” Mol bit her lip, her forehead wrinkling as she thought long and hard.  

“No, I’m sorry Raphael.” 

Raphael deflated into himself, burying his face in his hands. The disappointment was crippling. His skin caught fire without warning as he began to change into his cambion form. His doubts, those treacherous thoughts of failure, crashed down on him from every direction. He massaged his temples, attempting to keep himself calm, collected, especially in front of Mol.

“But… and you might find this interesting, actually…” Mol continued and Raphael stopped short, mid transformation. Devilish horns peeked out of his mortal head, a tail sprouting from his back, but the rest of his human proportions were otherwise the same. “I’ve heard there’s rumblings of a big trade happening at the Blushing Mermaid, and I mean BIG. You might want to stop by. That’s the only thing I could think of. I wish–”

Raphael quickly cleared his throat, rectifying his appearance as he slid back into his mortal disguise. He straightened his posture, smoothing his doublet and trying not to grimace at the filth that still clung to it.

He placed his hand on Mol’s shoulder, giving it an appreciative squeeze in good measure.

“There is a reason I decided to be your mentor, Mol. I knew you’d never disappoint.”

Raphael giddily clapped his hands and a gateway appeared behind him, leading directly to the Blushing Mermaid’s interior. 

“Mol, might I suggest you find a suitable safe house for the time being. These rumblings are only going to get worse. You were right in your thinking earlier, the end is near. It would indeed dampen my spirits to find your soul waiting for me upon my return, or to perhaps learn that you’ve been turned into an Illithid. Prepare yourself, and I will meet you when this business is concluded.”

“Yes, boss!” 

Mol gave Raphael an enthusiastic salute, befitting of an experienced general. That gesture alone made him beam with pride. 

This mentorship would prove to be a wise investment indeed. 

--

“Could you believe Fenris…?” Lissa muttered, resting her head on the table. It was sticky, everything was bloody sticky at the Blushing Mermaid. This place was a dump, but it was more affordable than the Elfsong. Especially on her wages. 

The gnome didn’t care though, all she wanted was for the world to stop spinning. She felt like she would retch up yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s breakfast at any second. She had too much to drink. Again. She should really stop taking up the bottle, she could only handle one drink with her figure, and she had drunk at least four so far today. It was all Vola's fault, that damned half-elf, she was a bad influence. 

“Dragging that… t-thing…” Lissa carried on, suppressing a burp, “What w-waas it again?” 

“Huh?” Vola groaned awake, her head lolling side-to-side as she tried to focus on Lissa. “Oh… you mean… t-that… hammer? It was a hammer, right? F-fucking huuuuuuge for a hammer, ha!”

“The hammer!” Lissa screamed, “y-yessss, the hammer.” 

Lissa and Vola stared at each other, then burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, slamming their fists on the table like a pair of monkeys.

“Gods, Fenris dragged that hideous thing through the dirt, c-couldn’t even l-lift it. Fell r-right on his f-fat faace.” Lissa struggled to lift her head, hitting it against the back of the booth they shared. She blinked slowly, barely able to keep her eyelids from falling shut. “Ne-never sseeen such a t-tthing in my life.”

Lissa reached too fast for the half-empty glass in front of her and caused it to topple over, the ale cascading in all directions. 

“Oooooops.” Lissa said, still laughing. 

“W-whaat a waste!” Vola proclaimed.  

Lissa turned towards the bar, raising her hand high in the air. She was about to call for the bartender when she noticed a very tall, and extremely handsome man standing at their booth. Oh he was a charming son of a bitch, with a smooth smile, and dark, pretty eyes. His clothes were a bit dirty though, but Lissa had seen worse. 

“Good afternoon, my esteemed drunkards.” The man said, his voice was rich, deep, and dreamy. 

“Would you allow me the pleasure of purchasing a drink for you both?”

“Free b-booze?” Lissa asked.

She looked to Vola for confirmation, but the half-elf was fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. Lissa kicked Vola under the table and she shot awake, her arms flailing in all sorts of directions. 

“Free b-boooooze.” Lissa whispered, tilting her head toward the man at the head of the booth.

“On me.” The man said with a wink. He smiled broadly, showcasing such white, beautiful teeth. 

The man did some sort of magic trick, conjuring sparks by snapping his fingers, or clapping his hands… Whichever it was, he caused two massive glasses of ale to appear on the table.

“W-wooooow.” Lissa and Vola muttered in unison. 

The man slid into the booth, edging closer to Lissa. She sniffed the air, smelling all sorts of lovely, new things. Cherries, and a yummy flowery smell. She ignored the sudden stench of the sewers though, convinced it was from the Blushing Mermaid.

Oh she didn’t want this man to ever leave. 

“I’m very curious about this hammer you’ve been discussing.” The man said, his eyes locking with Lissa’s. “Please, tell me all about it…”

--

The Devil watched over a mortal man as he slept soundlessly in a small bed, his protruding belly slowly rising with each staggered breath. His snores rattled the very walls of Flaygo’s Flophouse, but Raphael paid no attention to the irksome noise around him. His eyes were focused on the Orphic Hammer the man clung to in his slumber, holding it tightly like he was but a babe in a crib.

The sun had already begun its descent, a purple glow leaking in from the open window. He could see the entranceway of Sharess’ Caress from his vantage point in the cramped room; the brothel was as busy as ever, despite him setting the Devil’s Den ablaze mere hours ago. Raphael let out a long, exasperated sigh at that thought alone. An entire day gone to waste, when the Hammer was under his nose this entire time. Fate was cruel, the weaves unpredictable, no matter how hard he tried to control them. 

Raphael couldn’t pull his eyes away from the Hammer, he dared not to. It could be an illusion for all he knew, vanish the moment he reached for it. 

The man turned over in the bed, taking the Orphic Hammer with him as he shifted, groaning in his sleep. 

“Oh, I do hope you’re having a pleasant dream.” Raphael whispered, taking a step closer. 

Raphael was within inches of the man now, so close he could smell the booze reeking from his breath. As he extended his hand towards the Hammer he paused, beginning to chuckle. It started slowly, but grew more ferocious as every second passed, until he was nearly on his knees, roaring with laughter. Fire spurted from Raphael’s mouth like a forge as he wheezed, unable to control his breath, to contain himself any longer. Tears formed out of the corner of his eyes, flooding down his cheeks. They evaporated as soon as they met his scorching skin. Despite Raphael’s raucousness, the man remained undisturbed. 

The Devil had seen it all, tortured just about every miserable soul from the Outer Plane to the Elemental, but he never thought he’d see, let alone experience, anything like this. A lowly creature, clutching on to the future of mortal-kind. A tale worthy of the bards. 

Suddenly, the earth shuddered violently, as if waking up from its own slumber. Paintings flew off the walls, bookshelves toppled over, and the room vibrated continuously as the quake worsened. Mortals screamed from the streets below as some of the buildings in Wyrm's Crossing began to topple from the earth’s constant movements.

Raphael swiftly collected himself, shaking away any remaining bouts of laughter. He clapped his hands to rid his outfit of any evidence from the day's plights. When he was satisfied with his appearance, and found no speck of dirt or grime left, he snapped his fingers, and the Hammer flew into his hands. He squeezed its hilt until his knuckles turned white, feeling the weight of the Hammer in his hands. 

Showtime. 

A reckoning was coming and not the one Tav might’ve expected.

To be continued…

[redroomroaving]

Taking some downtime and won't be about much this week, so have a quick lil Klaus doodle.

May we all aspire to be as unbothered by the danger of an impending army as Klaus of the Circus of Last Days.

[laserlope]

For @redroomroaving for her love of the circus.

[ghostpuppets]

i just realised i never posted my clowns!!!! it’s date night at the circus of the last days for einar and astarion 🤡💖

[nobigneil]

Out of Context Neil - At The Circus edition

[astarionformayor]

Benji smells Halsin, OP - bumbleRhizal on Youtube

[imperatoralicia]

I absolutely adore the kobold characters in Baldur's Gate 3.

[galesleftearring]

He was a boy.

She was a girl.

✨Can I make it any more obvious?✨