#conversations with Duke and Bandit

[thegreateggbandit]

Me: What time is it?

Duke: The 13th

Me: Thanks!

Me: …

Me: wait what

Conversations with @dukeoftrash 😀👍

[paganwitchisis]

Elven Judgement Chapter 6

Chapter Six Title: Argument

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Set after the events in Baldur’s Gate 3, Tav and spawn Astarion are expecting a new bundle of joy when Astarion reconnects with his parents. Things don’t go as planned with the soon to be grandparents! Expect drama, suspense, fluff, smut and an overly protective Astarion!

Word Count:

Pairing: AFAB Female Tav/Astarion

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy, oral, anal, PinV smut, creampie, breeding (kink), hurtful parents, mental abuse, violence (bandits), blood drinking, blood (wounds), protective/soft Astarion, adult language.  

Thank you @alyssac9 for proofreading :) You're a blessing!

AO3 link here!

Story:

After getting cleaned up and changing their sheets, Astarion lay in bed, still bare of clothes and holding his equally nude lover.

“We still need to talk about this, my love.”

“This?”

“My parents.”

Tav turned her body and laid on Astarion’s chest as she gazed up at him. “What would you like to do?”

“While you were asleep, I gave them one more chance, but I’m worried about how Silwen and Folas will treat you.”

“Folas?” Tav asked as Astarion drew the covers up and around them both closer.

“Oh, I forgot to mention. That’s apparently my father’s name. He keeps throwing his weight around and forgets I’m a vampire. I assume he forgot because otherwise, he is a bigger fool than I give him credit for.”

“He is your son’s grandparent,” Tav tried to rationalize.

“The bear, Halsin, would be a better grandparent than him.”

Tav snuggled into Astarion some more and kissed him fondly before replying.

“I’m surprised you gave them another chance.” Tav was astonished and moved to the side so she could sit up.

“I did it for you. I remembered our conversation as we left the woods and offered the proverbial olive branch. She did apologize, but how much did she really mean, or was it because she was afraid of losing me after what she put you through?”

Tav slid out of bed and began to get dressed, which surprised Astarion. “What’s going on?”

“Regardless of her intentions, we should still ask Halsin to look her over.” Tav went to the dresser while still half-naked and grabbed a few clothes for Astarion. “As much as it is a crime to not see you in your full portfolio, we should get dressed and ask before it gets too late. Maybe share the news about our engagement as well? We can go tomorrow to High Hall and register there.”

“As much as I rather not get out of bed, I do like sharing that news.” Astarion joked as he got dressed and playfully smacked Tav’s ass. Once the pair were dressed, Tav held Astarion’s hand and left the room with him in tow. In the companion room, they gathered Gale and Halsin and filled them in on the details about what was going on, rather than letting them piece together the details on their own. Gale seemed shocked a mother could act like that, but Astarion was quick to remind Gale that not everyone had the kind of relationship that Gale had with his mother. Meanwhile, Tav was detailing to Halsin what little they knew about Silwen’s heart condition.

“Do you think you could help her?”

“Possibly, I’d have to examine her first. Bring her to me the next time you see her, and I’ll see what I can do.” Halsin gave a warm smile and patted Tav on the back.

“Should we tell them?” Tav asked Astarion regarding their news. He smirked and nodded.

“After you, my sweet.”

Tav looked at her two friends and excitedly announced, “I’m engaged! We’re due to wed tomorrow! I’d like to celebrate with my friends, but I know that may be difficult. Karlach is with Wyll in Avernus, Lae’zel is still fighting against Vlaakith, and I believe Jaheira and Minsc are on a mission for the Duke.”

“Don’t forget that Shadowheart is off purging a Sharran Sanctuary.” Astarion interrupted to remind his beloved about Shadowheart’s predicament in Neverwinter.

“Now, who else does that leave me with?”

Halsin laughed deeply and replied, “With us three.”

“I guess it is up to us to celebrate enough for everyone else who will not be in attendance,” Gale concluded. Tav just smiled. She was happy she would have some friends to be around and celebrate her marriage to the man she loved dearly. She leaned up and kissed Astarion’s cheek, who did not shy away from public displays of affection.

“Now, if I remember correctly, I asked that she be put on bed rest,” Halsin gently reminded the couple.

Astarion smiled and picked up Tav who yelped in surprise.

“You heard the druid. I guess I gotta come up with ways to keep you in bed.” Astarion whispered and made Tav blush.

“Oak Father, preserve me,” Tav whispered back as a joke and giggled at her humor.

Astarion brought Tav back to their room and was about to lock the door after putting her back into bed when a knock came at the door.

It was Silwen and Folas.

Astarion took a breath to steady himself and he greeted his parents with an obvious mask. The mask was obvious because he dared not try to hide it. He was upset over his mother’s actions still, even if he had given her another chance.

“Hello, son. We heard the news.” Silwen commented, as Folas looked upset.

“News?” Astarion moved aside so they could see Tav sitting up in bed, still wearing her under-armor clothes she had on before when she went to speak to Halsin and Gale.

“A young wizard told us that your lover had woken up.”

Astarion shook his head and Tav giggled. This seemed to agitate the older elven man, but Astarion refused to let his agitation be a problem for him. Whatever it was, was Folas’s problem now.

“She isn’t my lover... well... not just my lover. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Silwen asked curiously.

“We mean, that this time tomorrow, she will be my wife.” Astarion crossed his arms and warily watched Folas. When the news broke, Silwen had a look of surprise but not Folas.

Folas looked incensed.

“You stupid, stupid fool! Do you have any idea how much we sacrificed, for you to throw it all away and marry a common human?”

“Folas!” Silwen intervened. “That isn’t appropriate. Can’t you see they love each other?”

“A man can love a dog; that doesn’t mean you marry it,” Folas snapped, and Astarion had heard enough.

“Get the fuck out and never come back!” Astarion glanced back at his soon-to-be wife and saw the look on her face, and it broke his heart. “She may be a human, but she is better than any elf! She is the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, and she saved this city and you all from the Absolute. You should be grateful to her, but instead, you think you’re superior because your ears have a point? Ha!” Astarion pointed at the door and then at Folas. “You will leave and forget you ever had a son. I see why I turned out to be a prick when I was alive.”

“Why you! I’ll summon the guard you pompous little…”

“Do that, and I will cleave your head from your shoulders.” Gale, of all companions, had overheard the commotion and came to investigate. When he saw an angry yet tearful Tav on the bed and a pissed off vampire, he had thought enough was enough.

"What are you going to do, wizard? You’re human too! You can’t…”

“I know a great many things. Like for example, I have you held in position with a Hold Person spell. I also know Power, Word Kill, and Dominate. Do not tempt a wizard, my friend, or you will lose every time, and I am very pissed. Astarion and I may butt heads once in a while, but we agree on one thing, her.”

“I don’t agree with him, Astarion,” Silwen pleaded. “Please don’t lump me in with him!”

“He is an Ancunin and will behave like one,” Folas seethed, venom dripping off his tongue over the race of Astarion’s betrothed.

“I guess we’re starting new traditions, my love, because I want nothing to do with him.” Astarion kissed Tav’s hand and pulled out his daggers. “You’re too dangerous to leave alive.” Astarion went to stalk the man, who was frozen in place, but Silwen dropped to her knees in front of him and pleaded.

“Please don’t kill him. He is a fool, and I want nothing to do with him, but please don’t…” Silwen began to sob and Tav pulled on Astarion’s wrist. When he looked back at her, she shook her head no and murmured low, but loud enough, all in the room could hear.

“One word from us to Duke Ravengard and he would be hunted. Let’s just leave him be, and if he causes trouble, then we strike, but for now, I’d appreciate not having to get more blood off our clothing.”

Gale nodded and put his hands down as he was maintaining the spell and Folas looked around the room and shuddered. Astarion bared his fangs, Gale had his prowess, and Tav had her hand near her blade against the side of the bed. All these people were formidable on their own but together? Folas didn’t have a chance.

“Tsk, fine. Come on, Silwen”

“No.”

“Excuse me? First the whelp and now you?” Folas stared into Silwen and held his angry stare. “We have no son. Let’s go.”

“I refuse! Just because you lost our son doesn’t mean I have to! You stick to such antiquated thinking and think I will follow you? I made a mistake when I first showed up for the same reason, but this girl is part of our family now, whether you like it or not. She will be an Ancunin, and I want to live long enough to see my grandchild!”

Astarion held Tav’s hand but said nothing as he watched Folas throw up his hands and leave them alone.

“That is assuming you will let me stay in your life.” Silwen looked at Astarion, asking for his mercy. Astarion turned to look at Tav, but she gave him a supporting smile before speaking.

“It’s your decision, honey. I support you no matter what you choose, though.”

Astarion thought for a moment, then two, and finally spoke up.

“I’ll give you one chance but know this. I will not accept any disrespect to my future wife, and you will not be present for our wedding. No one will. It will be intimate and between the two of us. You may join our celebration after but that is all. I don’t give out chances. This is Tavaria’s influence.” Astarion crossed his arms and leaned against the headrest of the bed. Tav was next to him as usual, her place forever by his side.

“Thank you!” Silwen stood up from her place at Astarion’s feet, where she groveled and thanked him for not judging her based on her husband’s viewpoint. Before Silwen left for the evening, Gale gave her a sending stone so she would know when the celebration was. Astarion and Tav wished Gale their thanks and finally kicked everyone else out of their room.

Finally, when the door was locked, Tav allowed her mask to slip, and she began to cry. This was overwhelming, and a lot had gone on, but Astarion and Gale had stood up for her. She felt the pain Astarion was going through, and she desperately tried to pull herself together, but it was difficult.

“Shh, it’s okay, my love. I’m here for you.”

“But I should be here for you!”

“Tav, you’ve been strong for so long. It’s okay to need help right now.” Astarion held Tav in a tight hug until her sobs became whimpers, and soon, her whimpers calmed down into sniffles. She kept on holding him in their embrace as he needed the support as well.

The couple got a bath and retired to bed, looking forward to finally being bound to each other, officially, the next day. Astarion was happy that there was no ceremony and that it would be a simple visit, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t important to him.

Astarion was jittery with excitement.

Tomorrow, he’d have a wife.

[oboetemasuka]

Long Live the Queen - Amane route

For a while, I had been thinking about a route where Elodie acts like Amane Momose from MILGRAM.

I mean, magical girl motifs? How could I not?

So, how did it go?

First thing's first: Depending on the mood, prioritize Faith and Animal Handling. There's a number of skills we could justify aiming for, but those were the first two that came to mind.

But never touch medicine or economics. (It's implied that Amane is bad at math, so we're doing that for the funny.)

Always go to service (church) if that's an option.

And if a betrothal is thrust upon the princess, don't refuse. (*cries*)

Notable events:

Sent away Julianna, duchess of Ursul, because she's a Lumen and the king doesn't like her

Got bitten by a snake

Accepted Selene's mentorship to become a Lumen

Took the necklace that was sent by Talarist (I didn't have court manners high enough...)

Used the necklace to bluff the Ixionites into withdrawing

Got engaged to Talarist. Didn't invite him to the gala. Danced with the attendees.

Found an unflattering poem. Tried to climb to get it. Fell and got injured.

Attempted to go to Gwenelle's birthday party. Got killed by bandits.

Okay, so no party this time.

On week 30 (out of 40), finally had enough Presence to enter the Royal Treasury and get the lumen crystal. Became a lumen.

Sensed an omen. Received poisoned chocolates. Dogs did not like that. Refused to eat the chocolates.

Took part in the falconry competition in the tournament. Got challenged to a duel by Kevan, earl of Io, but refused. When he gave chase, the falcon came to the rescue.

During the Shanjian invasion, refused Togami's terms. Went to the forest to practice magic with Selene and Julianna. Failed the magic checks and got fried.

So it's safer to not be a Lumen if you aren't already one this late in the game.

Backtracked and chose not to become a Lumen.

The king died. Had enough composure to not do anything rash. Stared Togami down.

In the end, the skill board was high on Royal Demeanor, Conversation, Animal Handling, and Faith.

What I'd do differently:

Go to royal court on weekends early on to increase yielding and be able to get royal demeanor up (especially presence) to get the Lumen crystal earlier on.

Get court manners up fast enough so Elodie doesn't take the necklace and get caught up in a betrothal.

In fact, try to not get married. (I forgot if that's an actual route or if Elodie marries some random duke by default in the end.)

That was a fun run. I'd love to play again.

[hotpotatoburn]

The Princess and the Rogue - A Secret of Moonacre Robin Hood AU

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre, thank you for all the work you put into the fandom and Moonacre Week every year ❤️

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1

Duke Phileas of Pheoston was not a bad dancer, but he was a quick one. Maria realized this as the man launched into yet another monologue about the recent bandit activity in the area, not noticing the fact that she almost tripped over her dress to keep up with him.

“... carriage, entirely empty! All the coachman could tell me is that the men wore masks, and one shot an arrow straight into his hat. Pinned it straight into the carriage! Truly, someone has to stop that savage, or I’ll have no jewels left to give you!” 

He talked of Robin Hood, a thief who had been terrorizing Moonacre’s nobles for several months now, along with his crew of Merry Men. Maria had only been back from her time in the countryside a few days, but already, she’d heard a number of fearsome stories about emptied carriages and the rogue’s legendary archery skills.

Phileas mistook her silent focus for worry and gave her what she was sure was meant to be a dazzling smile. “Don’t worry, my Lady. ‘Tis only a figure of speech. I have plenty of jewels. You shall be charmed by them before long.”

“How generous of you.” Maria barely conjured a pleasant tone as Phileas spun her out, and then back in, barely catching her in time. 

“Indeed! I come from a very generous family. Did I ever tell you about the time my father gifted a horse to his stableboy? It was quite the controversy at the time-”

Maria did her best to keep a polite interest in the story she’d heard thrice already, but found herself focusing on her movements more than anything else. Her eyes briefly shifted to the ballroom, ornately decorated in white and gold, all the way down to the flowers. She hoped to find a man brave enough to cut in and give her some reprieve, but the guests offered her polite smiles beneath their masks and nothing more.

Her father, King George - fulfilling the position as long as her uncle Benjamin was off to calm the war, that is - had spared no expense in welcoming her home. This masquerade was only the first of several balls planned, unfortunately for Maria’s feet. And even though he had not directly informed her, Maria knew it was so she might finally commit to a husband. She had been eighteen for several months now, and it was high time.

In truth, most men did not dare to look at her longer than a few moments before busying themselves with another fair maiden. Her hand had been all but promised to Phileas, so it made little sense to-

“Mind if I cut in?”

Maria was instantly drawn back to the conversation, which had been interrupted by a man fully clad in black, including his mask. It seemed as though he had not received the note regarding the dress code, but he hardly seemed bothered by it, his eyes confidently settled on Maria. 

“Uh-” Phileas started.

“Yes!” Maria quickly said. “Yes, of course.” 

She disentangled herself from Phileas, who looked lost between her and the stranger, a jealous sheen in his eyes. Eventually, he seemed to recuperate and took Maria’s hand, raising it to his lips and planting a slightly too wet kiss on it. “Very well. I shall see you again soon, my Lady.”

No sooner had Phileas turned away from them when the stranger’s hands easily slid around Maria’s waist and he took her hand, effortlessly guiding Maria along the dancefloor. Thankfully and surprisingly, he adjusted his tempo to hers.

“Are you alright?” The man asked.

Maria blinked. She had been expecting a question about the party, or her recent travels. Not something actually directed at her.

“Uh- Yes.” She was tired, but she couldn’t tell him that. “Why do you ask?”

He spun her around at a lazy, slow tempo, catching her gently before speaking. “It looked as though he was attempting to exhaust you into marrying him.”

Maria chuckled. “Well, it’s hardly necessary. If it were up to my father, the duke and I would be wed by the end of the month.”

“And if it were up to you?” He asked, flattening her hand against hers as they turned.

Maria fell silent at the question. If it were up to her, she’d find someone to marry for love, but that was hardly an appropriate stance for a princess to take.

“I’d like to take my time,” she replied instead. 

“Hoping for someone else to come along?” The man smirked as they turned again, flattening their other palms against each other. 

“Well, no-” Maria stumbled over her words. “Phileas is a perfectly suitable match-”

“Suitable,” the man chuckled. “Truly, your passion is admirable.”

“Well, I hardly have the luxury of passion-”

“Why?” The man’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her close as they continued to circle each other. “You’re a princess, and a beautiful one at that. I’d say you have your pick of any bloke in here.”

“Including you?” The words were out before Maria realized it, and she mentally kicked herself. But she couldn’t deny the rush down her spine as he grinned.

“Why, are you interested?”

Maria studied him as he took her hand, guiding her in a circle around him. He was slightly taller than her and, judging from the way his jacket clung to his arms, far stronger. And yet he pulled her closer with a gentleness and care that no other man had ever bothered with. His face was covered by a mask, but underneath it were a cutting jawline and two sculpted lips that split into an even wider grin.

“My god, she is,” he spoke, his voice low. “Don’t worry, princess, I won’t tell.”

Maria felt heat rushing down her spine and up her cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t have to,” he spun her out and back in, catching her with her back against his chest. His lips were next to her ear. “You’re doing a pretty good job of it for me.”

He was smirking as Maria turned to him. “Arrogance is an ugly look on anyone, sir,” she admonished him, but she found herself smiling.

“Everyone has their flaws,” he said, studying her as though he wondered about hers.

“Almost everyone,” Maria said, smiling coyly.

The man chuckled. “Who’s arrogant now?”

Maria laughed, but suddenly noticed whispers to her right. She found several nobles sending thinly veiled looks of disapproval at Maria and her dance partner. She cleared her throat and created some distance between her and the man.

His eyes flashed to the nobles and landed on Maria in understanding. As the music came to an end, he took Maria’s hand and placed a small kiss on it. “It was a pleasure, princess.”

He turned, but Maria caught his wrist, suddenly realizing something. “Wait! You… You never told me your name.”

His eyes flashed to hers under the mask. “Robin.”

When she realized he wasn’t going to give her any more than that, she released his wrist, nodding. “The pleasure was all mine, Robin. Truly.”

Robin smiled, disappearing into the crowd.

It wasn’t long before Phileas had found his way to Maria’s side again, and she soon found herself longing for some reprieve. As she danced with the duke, her eyes searched the crowd, but Robin was nowhere to be found. Until she saw him walking through the garden doors, disappearing outside.

Maria quickly turned to Phileas, who was in the middle of a hunting story she’d heard a thousand times before.

“... trapped, nowhere to go. I, of course, volunteered to slay the beast, unlike-”

“Your Grace,” Maria interrupted him. “I’m parched. Would you mind fetching us some drinks?”

“Naturally, my Lady,” the duke replied, once again planting a wet kiss on her hand. “And please, I told you to call me Phileas. In fact, I shall be back before you can speak my name.”

He disappeared into the crowd, and so did Maria, weaving herself between nobles while sending polite smiles and waves, never holding eye contact long enough for anyone to stop her. She reached the garden doors, and felt relief coursing through her upon seeing Robin walking down the long garden path. A guard moved to accompany her, but Maria quickly waved him off, following Robin down the path. Before she could reach him, however, he turned right - into the garden’s hedge maze.

Maria chanced a look back at the party, briefly wondering if it was wise to follow a man she just met into a maze. Then again, she had played around in the garden her whole childhood - she knew the maze like the back of her hand. If anything, he would have the disadvantage.

And frankly, she was glad to be away from the party. She breathed in the cold night air as she stepped into the maze, following the route to where she knew she’d find the center. Around each corner, she checked to see if Robin was there, hoping to sneak up on him. However, he was nowhere to be found.

Maria heard only the noise of crickets as she turned the final corner. She found the center of the maze, a set of four pillars with a sundial in the middle. Fireflies floated around it, and Maria smiled and held her hand out, watching one land on her finger. 

“Princess.”

Maria lowered her arm, and Robin watched the firefly float away before focusing his gaze on her. She couldn’t see him well in the light of the moon, but there was something intense about him. The way he stood, like a hunter who had trapped his prey. Suddenly, Maria felt like the animal in Phileas’s story, and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she took a step backwards.

“Robin?”

“I really am sorry about this,” Robin said. Maria noticed only then that he held something in his hand - a rope.

Maria pursed her lips and eyed him for only a moment before darting back into the maze. 

“Help!” She yelled. “Someone!”

She ran around a corner and found Robin there. She screamed and whirled back around, taking several turns before nestling herself into an unnoticeable dead end, hoping he would walk by. She did what she could to hide her dress in the bushes, but the white and gold stood out like a sore thumb, illuminated extra by the moonlight.

“Princess, it’s nothing personal, I promise.”

Oh, that’s good then, Maria thought, annoyance slicing through her fear momentarily. The tension in her muscles quickly returned, however, when she heard his footsteps. He was right beside her alcove. 

As he walked into view, Maria gasped softly. At first, it looked as though he might walk by, but then he stopped. Maria watched him roll his shoulders. 

“Princess,” he said. “I know you’re here.”

Maria held her breath, and it took everything in her not to sigh in relief as he kept walking. But she had to keep moving, or he would surely find her. As quietly as possible, she left her alcove.

Suddenly, two hands grabbed her from behind, one around her waist, and the other across her mouth. Maria struggled against his grip, and Robin grunted. “This doesn’t have to be difficult-”

Maria bit down on his hand with everything she had, and Robin hissed, pulling it back. The momentary distraction was enough for Maria to stomp down on his foot, making him release her entirely. She ran for her life, screaming. 

No soldiers came running. The party was too loud, too far away. Maria whimpered in desperation. How foolish could she have been?

Robin appeared around a corner, and Maria turned another, and another, panicking. She knew the maze well, indeed, but it was nighttime, and she wasn’t thinking clearly. She cursed as she ended up in the clearing at the center of the maze, right back where she started. 

She whirled, but Robin was right behind her. “Enough!”

Maria stumbled backwards, falling against a pillar. Robin pinned her against it, panting. “You’re slippery.”

Maria pursed her lips, lifting her foot to stomp on his again, but he quickly changed his footing, pushing Maria further against the pillar in the process. “Ah-ah, not falling for that a second time.”

“You’re a fiend,” she hissed. “You lied to me!”

“I did not,” Robin said, before pulling Maria away from the pillar, holding her hands behind her back and tying the rope around her wrists with practiced ease. “Though you did make it easy for me. Do you make a habit of following strange men into the dark, or am I special?”

He turned her back around, and Maria glared at him. “You’re despicable.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He grinned before lifting Maria up, throwing her over his shoulder. Maria yelped indignantly.

“What are you doing?” She yelled.

“I didn’t think you were gonna walk with me.”

“Put me down this instant! You- You scoundrel!”

“Oof,” Robin said, pretending to put a hand over his heart. “Be careful, princess, you wouldn’t want to hurt a man’s feelings.”

“I’d like to hurt a lot more than your feelings,” Maria hissed, struggling against his grip as he walked her out of the maze with ease, using the second exit, away from the main path. Clearly, he’d planned this well. And she’d walked right into his trap.

Maria continued to struggle and scream, but it was no use as he carried her into the dark forest. 

[Read on ao3]

Available chapters:

[ 1 2 ]

@theargopriestess @stabat-mater @maybeamagpie @lalla0019

@immergladsss @bedofthistles

[unfriendlyamazon]

rewriting ygo as a sports anime anyway here's their baseball positions (based on my thin research on softball/baseball):

seto as ace pitcher feels big britches about it has catcher yugi and they have a tense relationship where seto has to learn the power of friendship

joey is first baseman, chatty type, always makes conversation with the opposing team, a little bit of a showboat

anzu on second base, quick on her feet, great throwing arm, fast runner

tristan as short stop, i don't got a lot to say about it, he seems capable

duke as third base, aggressive player, skinny little arms got a lot of power

left field is ryou, a little spacey but good at getting throws, right field is marik, center is atem (in this yugi's cousin from egypt)

zigfried as relief pitcher recruited from germany who's looking to elbow his way to the front

mai as team manager bandit keith as coach i just think it'd be funny

miho team unofficial cheerleader, serenity starts attending games to watch joey before transferring and trying out herself

idk what else you tell me

[claimedminotaur]

Legends of Enderel - Book One: Mage

Chapter 1: Sellsword

As night falls on the city of Ashford and rain patters on rooftops and muddies streets, a lone girl walks into an inn, drenched from the heavy downpour. She takes off her dark blue cloak and proceeds to shake it, throwing water all over the entrance. After hanging it on the coat rack, she walks up to the bar. “An ale, if you please,” she says as she sits down.

The innkeeper fills a cup with ale and hands it to her, “What's a lady like you doing in this part of town?”

She takes a sip and replies with a slight cough, “I heard there were mercenaries staying here.”

The innkeeper raises an eyebrow, “You seem like the type who'd prefer a squad of knights.”

She responds with a sigh, “Believe me, I tried, but the Duke said they were otherwise engaged.”

“Ah, well in that case, take yer pick,” he says gesturing in front of him. In the center of the room three men sit at a table, each with a mug of ale. The one who appears to be the leader, a large man with short hair and a scruffy beard that barely touches his leather brigantine, is attempting to use his 'influence' to get out of paying, much to the waitress’s annoyance.

The girl grunts in frustration and turns back to the innkeeper, “I cannot be expected to employ the likes of-" she gestures to the mercenary, "well… him.”

“I'm afraid that's all we have at the moment,” the innkeeper says with a shrug.

She swallows her pride and turns to talk to the leader. Just as she gets up the door opens and a figure enters. As soon as he is in full view of everyone the inn goes silent. The man is wearing all black with black leather pauldrons, bracers, grieves, and gloves. He wears a black cloak, a black hood that appears to be part of his clothes rather than his cloak, and the most intriguing, a black scarf over his mouth and nose. He is armed with a longsword on his left side and a dagger on his right. She looks around in confusion as everyone else is staring with looks of fear and curiosity. As the man moves to the corner of the room, the conversation resumes quietly but a few patrons run upstairs to their rooms. By the time he sits at a table with his back against the corner the inn is filled with hushed whispers.

The girl stares at the man a moment before looking back to the innkeeper, “Who is that man?”

The innkeeper looks at her, then the man, then back before leaning in close and whispering, “They call ‘im Ranger, but I doubt that's his real name.” He picks up a mug and begins cleaning it. “They say he goes from place to place selling his sword. It's how he got his name, I suppose.”

“He's a mercenary?” She says with a surprised look.

He nods, “Ay. He hasn't been working long, but he's made quite the name for 'imself.”

She looks around the room, the overwhelming feeling of tension drawing her attention. Focusing on each face reveals mixed reactions, but one is present in everyone. Returning her attention to the innkeeper, she asks, “Is that why everyone is afraid of him?”

They are interrupted by a *thwack* from across the room. They look over to see that Ranger has placed five silver coins, or silvers as they call them, on the table. The innkeeper looks to the barmaid, “Marley, get 'im some bread and some of that chicken. Here, this too.” He fills a mug and puts it on the counter. The barmaid returns with the items and brings them to Ranger, collecting the money before she leaves. She grabs the mug off the counter and brings it to him. As she sets it down he pulls out a copper and hands it to her. She slips it in her blouse and does a quick courtsy before returning to her duties.

The girl looks to the innkeeper with more confusion, “So?”

He leans in again, “There's this story about a bounty he collected. A group of soldiers had deserted and became bandits, a sadly common occurrence with the war and all. Anyways, the Duke put a bounty on their heads. Twelve of 'em, I believe. They attacked a merchant who was bringing his yield from the market. Killed 'im, stole his coin, and captured his daughter. They each took turns on 'er.”

“Gods!” she says, her eyes widening in shock.

“Apparently while one of 'em was…em...taking his turn, she saw a blade go through his neck. Then the blade went back and the man with it. She says she saw a shadow slaughter the rest of 'em in seconds.”

Her jaw drops, “All eleven of them?!”

He shrugs, “So they say. The leader was still alive, trying to crawl to safety. She said the shadow walked over to 'im, put both hands in his mouth and pulled. It ripped his jaw clean off. A few days later Ranger walked into the city with a sack on his back and dropped it on the doorstep of the guard barracks. Inside were the heads of the bandits, one of whom was missing a jaw.”

The girl just stares at the innkeeper in horror. He sees this and attempts to put her mind at ease, “Folk say he ain't a problem though, say he won't hurt no one lest they give 'im reason. Plus he don't talk much, so you don't have to worry about that.”

The girl looks over at the mercenary leader. He is eyeing the waitress suspiciously while touching his waist. He suddenly stands up and starts desperately tapping his hands on different parts of his waist. He looks all around before stopping at the barmaid cleaning his table. He stares at her, his rage evident, "You."

She looks up confused, "Me?"

He moves towards her, "You stole my purse. I'll take your hands you damned thief!"

She tries to back away but he grabs her arm. She screams, “No, stop!” and all in the inn look in their direction.

The innkeeper quickly shouts, “Let her go or I'll call the guard!”

The mercenary glares at him, “No need, I'll handle this myself.”

The innkeeper responds with desperation in his voice, “She's not a thief, she's my daughter.”

“I don't care who she is!” The mercenary growls at him.

The barmaid manages to free an arm which she uses to elbow the mercenary in the face causing him to let go. She quickly turns to run away but he catches her arm. He lifts his fist to strike her when a sword slashes through the air. His closed fist falls from his arm and hits the floor with a thump. He drops to the floor clutching his arm and screaming in agony. Everyone in the inn shifts their gaze back and forth between him and his severed hand, unsure of what just transpired. The mercenary underlings look up to see Ranger wiping blood from his sword and immediately stand and draw their weapons.

Ranger watches his enemies as if waiting for them to strike. The mercenary to his left wields a mace while the one to his right wields an arming sword. They charge at the same time, the one with the mace swinging first. Ranger parries the mace, steadies his blade with his left hand and stabs the left mercenary in the neck. With the blade still in his neck he blocks the right mercenary’s sword and stabs him in the eye with his guard, while still blocking his sword. Ranger removes his sword from both of them, instantly dropping their corpses to the floor. He cleans his blade on his cloak then sheathes it before moving toward the door.

As he steps into the doorway the mercenary leader stumbles to his feet. His skin is pale, and it's clearly taking all his strength not to pass out. He opens his mouth to speak, at first struggling but then he groans, “I'm going to gut you like a fish, then I'll finish what I started!” Ranger turns around and glares at him, before shifting his gaze to the barmaid. He looks at her for a few seconds then at the ground before reaching behind his back and pulling out a small coil of rope. He grasps one end and lets the other drop. Before it hits the ground he whips it back up in a flash. To everyone's surprise, the rope is embedded in the man's skull. It isn't until Ranger pulls the rope back, pulling the corpse forward and removing it from his skull, that they see a small barbed blade attached to the end. He quickly re-coils the rope, places it behind his back, and steps outside, closing the door behind him.

The girl stands frozen, shocked by the brutality that just transpired. The barmaid runs to her father's arms and starts crying, the sudden action breaking the girl from her trance. She quickly runs out the door, eager to find the black butcher. She looks around and just barely manages to catch movement in a nearby alley. She quickly runs into the alley, only to find no one there. “Dammit!” She moves to turn but feels a hand on her back and quickly finds herself pressed against a wall. She's about to scream when her assailant turns her to face them. To her surprise, her assailant is the very person she sought. He quickly presses a dagger to her throat. “Wait, please!” she cries, pleading desperately for her life. “I want to buy you!” Ranger looks confused, but soon realises what she meant to say. She wants to hire him. He immediately backs away and sheaths his dagger.

The girl collapses to the floor, rubbing the red mark on her neck where the dagger was pressed. No blood was drawn, but it still hurt. She stands up and brushes herself off and sees him staring at her, as if studying her. After a few seconds of this she holds out her hand, palm down and fingers curled, "Lady Isadora D’Arbour." He shifts his gaze to her hand and continues watching it, as if unsure of what to do. Eventually he settles for just shaking her outstretched hand, leaving her absolutely dumbstruck. "Umm, okaay. Can I get your name at least? That is assuming that Ranger is not your real name."

He stares at her a few moments before asking a different question, "Where are we going?"

"Whatever do you mean?" She says, cocking an accusatory eyebrow at him.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, "You want an escort?"

She chuckles at his ignorance, "An escort? I'm not going to a ball. I want a bodyguard… Well, and a guide." His annoyance would be written on his face were it not for his scarf, but he just stares at her in response. As if picking up on this, she continues, "But if you must know, we are going to Te'vir." He visibly stiffens at the name. Catching on immediately she asks, "You've been before?"

He quickly clears his throat, trying to change the subject, "That's quite a journey."

She eyes him suspiciously, "Yes. I have business at the Great Library… Is that going to be a problem?"

His annoyance returns as he stares her in the eyes, "No."

"Perfect. Looks like I won't need a guide after all," she says, clapping her hands in finality, "Well, then. We depart in the morning." He nods and turns to leave but she is quick to respond, "Where are you going?"

He stops in his tracks before turning to face her, "I just killed three people. The guards will be looking for me.

"What? But how will I find you?"

"Leave the city and I'll find you." He quickly leaves the alley and vanishes into the night.

She calls after him, "How exactly? Hello?" But he's already gone. "Great. I guess I'll find my own way back!" She huffs as she begins to navigate her way back to the inn, "Bloody criminals, all of them." As she returns to the inn, she finds the place is swarming with guards who are carrying the dead bodies out onto a cart. They turn to her as she enters, studying her before deciding she's uninteresting and return to the final body.

She moves up to she innkeeper who looks surprised to see her, "I figured you'da been long gone after something like that."

She nods revealing her predicament, "It would seem I'm in need of a room, and your inn is still the closest one."

He nods, looking guilty, "Aye, would seem it is. Plus we have a tavern. Can't go wrong with that. Well, basic room's 20 silvers, premium room is 50 silvers."

She opens her pouch and pulls out a gold, "Premium room please."

The innkeeper takes her gold and goes into a back room and opens a safe. He places the gold in the safe and returns with a pouch. Dumping the pouch on the counter, he sorts out 50 silvers and returns the rest to the pouch. As she collects her change, he reaches behind the counter and hands her a key. Pointing to the stairs, he says, "Third floor, there's only one room so you can't miss it. Do you have any bags?"

"Just the one."

He nods, "Okay. Well, I'll have Marley bring up yer bags and draw you up a bath if you wish."

"A bath would be perfect," she's already imagining washing off the dirt from the alley.

He nods, "I'll send her up right after you."

She moves away and heads up the stairs to the third floor. Upon unlocking and entering the room she's greeted by a rather large room (for a cheap inn) with a desk and chair, and a medium sized bed in the corner, as well as a metal tub next to the opposite wall. Not bad.

After a relaxing bath she slips into a nightgown and crawls into bed, thinking about the journey ahead.

—---------------

Ranger waits in the shadows of an alley as guards rush past, the pursuit of him still in full effect. He looks both ways down the street and prepares to dart across before suddenly stopping. “If you are planning to kill me, you should know that won't end well.” He turns around and finds a man in rags leaning against the wall several yards into the alley.

The man looks relaxed, but his fear is noticeable by the trained eye. His eyes never leave the black butcher, his weight more centered underneath him, his hand waiting close by a small shape under his shirt. A knife, most likely. “Aye, I’s heard what you did to those boys in the Inn.” He looks at the blood, old and new, on Rangers clothes. “So has the boss,” he says, looking him in the eyes.

“Oh?” Ranger takes a careful step forward deeper into the alley, his eyes darting around to look for any comrades this man might have. He notices an odd shadow behind a barrel at the other end of the alley, and hears a slight shift on the roof of the building to his right. Two more friends in hiding, he thinks. “And who is this boss of yours? Can't still be Jespar, that man was a fossil last I saw him.”

The thief chuckles, “Nah, that old fool’s long gone. Replaced by another, who'll be replaced by another. I's work for the big boss.” The thief flashes a wicked smile as Ranger’s eyes flash in recognition.

Oh

“I see’s you know ‘im. Good, then we's don't need no introductions.” He pushes off the wall and starts to head towards the other end of the alley. Ranger waits, thinking over his options. The thief turns around, “Come on, now. Boss ain't a patient man.” Ranger sighs and follows, paying close attention to the two other thieves who emerge beside them.

He follows the thieves to the back of an expensive tavern, where a set of stairs leads down to the cellar. The lead thief motions down the stairs, a satisfied smile on his face, “Down you go.”

Ranger rolls his shoulders and heads down the stairs. He's greeted by an iron-reinforced wooden door. This is clearly no ordinary cellar. He knocks three times and is greeted by a rugged pair of eyes as an eyehole is opened. The eyes look him up and down and the hole closes. Muted voices can be heard before the lock clicks, and the door swings open. A large man opens the door, his bald head shining slightly from the light inside. He frowns with his unshaven face, the scar on his nose and mouth stretching as it contorts to the shape, “You’s smaller than I’s expected.” He nods for Ranger to come in.

Waiting inside is a very pale man with sharp, defined features, sitting at a table. His cloak is simple, but hides fine silk garments underneath. Ranger carefully stands in front of the man, aware that he's surrounded on all sides by well-armed men. The man smiles at Ranger’s arrival, “Well, if it isn't the Black Butcher. You've made quite a mess in your short time here in this fair city. I must say, this new nickname is one of my favorites.” He pauses, taking in Ranger’s appearance. “It's so… visceral,” he says the last word with a wicked smile, almost relishing in the day’s brutality.

Ranger carefully sidesteps away from the door, ensuring his back is to the wall instead of the opening, “If I had known you were here, My Lord, I would have avoided coming here, entirely.”

The Lord chuckles, “Such hostility! Please, just Alucard to you. My friends have earned the privilege.”

Ranger scoffs, “We are not friends.”

“Aren't we?” Alucard rises, everyone in the room watching his movements. “Have you forgotten, my Butcher?” He saunters over to Ranger, getting much too close for comfort. “You owe me.” He steps away and waves his hand, “And now it seems you owe me again. As you were on your way over, I took care of your little guard problem. They won't bother you anymore.”

“I never asked for that,” Ranger snaps.

Alucard smiles, “But of course not. You never do. That is what friends do for each other, after all. I did a favor for you,” he picks up a parchment and turns back to Ranger, “And now you do a favor for me.”

“I'm not doing anything for you,” Ranger assesses his surroundings as he prepares to fight his way out.

“Tsk tsk tsk. So quick to violence, Ranger, or whatever name you use these days,” he slowly walks over to Ranger. “You will do as I ask,” he says, handing the parchment out towards him, “Because I know where you hid it.”

Ranger goes taught. Alucard lightly taps the parchment against his chest and he takes it absentmindedly, too shocked to be paying attention. “How?”

Alucard smiles wickedly, “You should know better than to think you could hide something from me.” He waves his hand, walking back to the table, “Not to worry, Butcher, it is somewhere safe.” He points to the parchment, “You do that for me, and we can talk about working off your debt.” There is a long silence as Ranger contemplates his words.

“No.”

Alucard looks shocked, “No?”

Ranger stares him down, “The barmaid. She was one of yours, wasn't she? I saved her life. I do this for you, and we're even.”

The Lord laughs, a genuine and haunting sound, “Oh, you are a clever one.” He eyes Ranger up and down, “Very well. Even, it is.” He gestures outside, “Now, it's almost sunrise. You have a charge to protect, do you not? Best get back to her before something untoward happens,” he smiles. Ranger flicks his gaze to the men surrounding him. “My men have not harmed her,” Alucard states, “In fact, she is sleeping soundly as we speak.”

“Fine,” Ranger answers quickly. “Just leave us alone.”

Alucard puts his hands up in a placating manner, “You won't hear from me until it is done.”

Ranger nods and hurries out the door, keeping to the shadows despite the Lord’s assurances. He climbs to the roof of the inn and sits just above Isadora's window. Upon hearing her sleeping soundly, he relaxes and lays back against the roof, allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

[astralscholar1811]

Entourage of Shadows, For Real This Time.

(Friendly reminder that these are not cannon to the lore of Stunlock Studios' game -V Rising- but my own characters who exist in it. I do not nor claim to own anything other than the characters themselves, all models and pictures shown were taken in-game.)

Lurking within various estates, within dark shadows, and in the nightmares of most of Vardoran; the Entourage of Shadows serve as a reminder of what could go bump in the night.

FALKIS, THE FALSE KNIGHT

Most aren't sure Falkis really exists.

Reports of a vampire with a fine complexion and long, white haired beard have been written off by the Church of Luminance as superstition and paranoia. Despite this, many a time have entire patrols of militia members been found dead on the side of the road, terrified expressions across their pale faces, the air heavy with residual magic. None of the EoS are known to leave their victims so fearful before death (Other than the Frozen King himself).

Artistic Depiction of Falkis -Painter unknown

ZEPHRIS, THE STORM LORD

By far the most sociable of the Entourage of Shadows, Zephris has spoken to more than one official within the Church of Luminance, yet is still easily moved to (supposedly reluctant) violence due to the nature of vampires themselves. Crackling with the ferocity of a fearsome storm, Zephris is easily capable of overwhelming a small army with lightning as it dances and arcs between the soldier's metal plating.

Self-Portrait of The Storm Lord

RETERACE, THE VOID BARON

Wandering the sun-kissed hills of the Dunely Farmlands, Reterace is an infamous bandit of a vampire, who is well known for charming the woman-folk within various villages before leading them to their consumption by his own fangs. The Church warns against striking a lethal blow against Reterace, as the first time this was attempted, the vampire proceeded to explode in a blast so violent it leveled half the city of Brighthaven in raging purple flame.

Recent Painting of The Void Baron -Painter unknown

ORITHIS, THE CRIMSON COUNT

Suffering from an overdose of Pride, Crimson Count Orithis is an incredibly self-indulgent vampire, leading the Red Court with which the rest of the Entourage of Shadows governs itself with the interference of the Frozen King. He is also responsible for crafting the various matching sets of armor the Court wears as a symbol of their union. His gluttony for 'the fine blood' is unmatched, and others of the Entourage will often bring back 'fine bloods' to sate the Count's thirst. His arrogance and constant moral superiority are infuriating.

He only bends his knee to The Frozen King

One of Many Commissioned Paintings -Arist unknown, definitely consumed

BERRACUS, THE DESSECRATED DUKE

Deep within the crypts of the Farbane Woods, there sits a black-walled castle adorned with the bones of those whose lives have been drained away by the Duke of Death. Rarely seen, the Duke is known through both conversations with Zephris, who only mentions him if he must, and his trademark servants all bearing his insignia: A simple bone cage. All that can be heard after his servant's dreadful harvests are the screams of those within the castle walls, provided the living dead outside don't drag you in, to witness the horror firsthand.

Painting Based off of Survivor's Descriptions -Artist unknown

FROSTBITE, THE FROZEN KING

Not much is truly known about the resident of Rime's Rest, as all of his hunts result little more than frozen shards of bloody ice. What is known is that he leaves no survivors, and all attempts so siege his castle end with the Mountain Terror rending the offenders to pieces.

Restored painting of Frostbite -Artist unknown, found frozen to death mere hours later

If one should meet these abhorrent undead do notify your local militia or Church of Luminance member immediately, preferably before they launch into an all-out slaughter of you and your kin.

-Azariel, Bishop and High Order of Luminance

[zooterchet]

Revenge of the Ninja 3: The Character "Chet"

Revenge of the Ninja, the third in the series, starring Cho Kasagi was something I'd viewed my sophomore year of college; for free on YouTube.

After going into a Brahmin riddle, the likes of which intended for dictator spies in their elder years, like professional bladefighter Andrew, Duke of York, or the comics terrorist Osama Bin Laden, of External Security, that film brought me peace.

I never knew why, with Prince Andrew, "Time Bandits", or Osama Bin Laden, "Viper", a Mormon produced film about ninjitsu had inspired me.

A conversion to Buddhism, is the most sacred thing in Romalian culture; you're a man, taken aside by a friend of both parents, and instructed in swim, dive, and weights; Zen Buddhism, a Catholic admission, by Satanists; Jews.

A conversion to Brahminism, is the most brutal shame to all Romalians; your country has called on you, not for a wife and children and job, but a stocks and bonds removal of a culture that's snared you, at the expense of those parties and factions having converted you, as slaves.

However, Shi'ia, the blood draw on Ramadan, without pork, beef and poultry instead, is intended to kill you.

I had written "Chet", in 2005, as "Braden", in Revenge of the Ninja; a white man, having also studied Ninjitsu.

Ninjitsu, is a deeply Islamic form, out of Japan; it's a heterosexual Buddhist conversion, trained with knife, pistol, and blows.

It relies on Shinto drinking rituals, your liver sealed shut by Catholic ceremony, and the movement of the body into katas, without a spar or performance, for the improvised attacks of your father's style.

In my case, Tiger Mantis, the system modified and sold to Israel in the 1960s, to pay off a $30K debt on a Chevrolet Impala, in Saigon, my father's car to take over South Vietnam as a Marine.

Naturally, he was deployed to Raytheon instead, as a festivities man; jewelry, shoes, and tactical maps on ships.

[unmyeoung]

@caemthe (x)

 “Hey now, who says I’ll die after chocking a bit? At least say that I valiantly fought a group of bandits, armed with nothing more than a flute, and won!” The young duke couldn’t help it but openly laugh at the ridiculous exchange of his future bride. Getting a pillow for his chest pocket and a few sweets from time to time? Choking to death in a carriage because he felt like playing the flute? Until now, all that had heard his absurd words had been quick to reprimand him or remind him that it was improper for someone from his position to behave in such way. No one had played along (much less steal an actual laugh from him) so this was rather... Ah... this is the part where he realizes that he has been utterly defeated, isn’t it? And his ‘opponent’ turned out to be the loveliest woman of the empire.      Damn, as much as he hated to admit it... he wasn’t opposed to this arranged marriage, or, at least, he wasn’t opposed to being married to Maria. A lady as lovely as her, he briefly wondered why no one mentioned her amazing personality and sense of humor. Thoughts that were quickly pushed aside once the topic of music was brought up again. Greenish eyes brightened like stars, almost like a kid in front of the candy store. “Maria, you’ve to be one of the most brilliant minds of this century!” Wolfgang said without a drop of sarcasm this time. How come he never thought of it before? A concert, a ball, there were plenty of occasions in which he could paint the world with his music. But, overall... He got on one knee. “Always dashing Maria, loveliest daughter of the empire, will you make me the honor of being my first spectator after our union?” It would be the greatest honor. He would even dedicate his pieces to her and might even write songs inspired on his lovely-      “It appears that we already got ourselves an audience.” Wolfgang commented in a lower tone, careful to not glance directly at the people sent to spy on them. Now, what was the need for such things? Was it because the two of them already were having too much fun, or the elders simply couldn’t trust him to do things right? He had no intention of finding out. “Do you perhaps know of a spot where we can have some privacy? Or at least we should try playing hide and seek with our visitors, since clearly they wish to be part of our conversation too.”

she laughs, a small tinkling sound filled with merriment as he continues their ridiculous tale. "why certainly. you could have done both! after valiantly fighting the bandits with nothing but a flute, you continue victoriously till you arrive at the castle and play a concert? and i'll sing with you~" what a delightful tale. she actually preferred to end with a happy performance shared between her and her new lover.

her hands rise up to cover her face, delighted yet again, smiling at him. she extends a hand at his offering, nodding her head. "i will always be your spectator!" her heart felt warm at just the offer. wasn't this nice? getting to know him already? she really did feel as though it spoke volumes towards what their futures would be like.

she notes what he says with an imperceptible nod, extendering her hand to him to help him stand up. "may i show you my garden? i have some plants i'm quite proud of~!!" though a large part of the care was done by servants, she'd had a hand in designing the garden itself. it was a subtle invitation somewhere more private.

she leads him towards the garden, slipping within a small maze portion where it'd be difficult for them to be followed. "they're always quite nosy. though, they're nosier with you. you must have piqued their interest~!"

she tilts her head curiously towards the other. "i quite liked our story.. and i truly would love to hear your music.."

[edhela]

[RECAP] Obsidian Crown: Chapter Four

The party heads to Balteiro, accompanied by Amarita’s knight, Tisio (NPC, he/him). The city is only half a day’s ride away, so they arrive by early afternoon and head for the signoria building. As they travel through the city, the party stops by the local Nokoran temple, where Amarita chats up the temple’s sage and learns that apparently the army marching towards Forlante was hired by Balteiro’s signoria to deal with a local bandit problem that’s been plaguing the workers at the lapis lazuli mines just outside of town. The sage is also very concerned about the prospect of unnecessary violence, especially with the apparent uptick in violence in Balteiro between the Nokoran and Arysian residents. The party thanks him for the information, and heads out.

The signoria palazzo is a beautiful building, once the palace of a noble that has since been converted to house Balteiro’s government. Inside, the party learns that the signoria is not in session, but they manage to talk to one of the councillors who happens to be there anyway: a woman named Liana Barbozza Nozza (NPC, she/her), one of the seven current members of the signoria. After asking about Isotta de Osorio, the party learns from Liana that Isotta has been arrested on charges of “crimes against the city,” and so the signoria has been handling its own military affairs while Isotta awaits trial.

It’s important to note that the Protector-General of Balteiro is a position appointed by the duke of Forlante, an arrangement established by the agreement between the city and Duchess Sabina de Terceira when she reconquered the duchy and House Terceira resumed control of Forlante post-republic. However, it seems that Balteiro’s signoria not only didn’t inform Forlante and the duchess regent, Sancha Maria, of the situation regarding Isotta’s arrest, but had taken up the protector-general’s role without the consent of the regent, hiring a mercenary company without Sancha Maria’s knowledge or approval. Diamantina askes Liana about this, to which Liana merely shrugs and says that the letter informing Forlante of Isotta’s situation must’ve been lost. In response, Diamantina appoints Argylle as the interim Protector-General, since she’s currently acting on behalf of Sancha Maria, who has the power to do such a thing. This seems to really piss Liana off, but she doesn’t openly protest. The party continues to ask some questions, and discover that there is an Arysian priest in town capable of some healing magic who’s been seeing to the Arysian miners injured by the brigand attacks, and Amarita resolves to go talk to him.

As the conversation wraps up and the party decides to stop by the Arysian Church and the city’s guard tower before heading to the mines to check out the situation, Argylle pulls Liana aside to speak privately. Argylle wants to know why the signoria didn’t inform Forlante of what happened with Isotta, whose crimes were apparently that she’d broken into the archives and attempted to steal records from the signoria building. Liana says, again, that the letters must have been lost, but if the information was intentionally concealed (which of course it wasn’t), then it likely was because the signoria doesn’t trust Duke Manuelo since Isotta acts on his orders, and if she was committing crimes against the city, it was likely because the duke told her to, especially since the Duke is already tampering with the signoria’s elections (according to her, anyway).

Argylle: “How long do you think would be the appropriate amount of time before you make up some charges to have me arrested? Couldn't be right away. You'd have to wait a little while after I'm put into a position. But obviously I have to be gotten rid of just like my predecessor. What does that timeline look like for you?” Liana: “Well, considering how brazen you are now. I can't imagine it would take all that long for you to commit some act against the sovereignty of our city.”

Their conversation ends with even more vague threats bandied between Liana and Argylle, as Argylle wonders how long it would take him to charge the signoria with treason, while Liana merely says that doing so would cause Forlante far more trouble than it can withstand, “what with its great leader so far away.”

After Argylle rejoins the party, they head to the Arysian Quarter in Balteiro to find the Arysian priest that Liana had mentioned. The man is named Garrett de Leon (NPC, he/him), and he agrees to go with them to the mines. Amarita offers her service as a healer to aid those injured by the brigands, and though the priest seems very hesitant and wary of the situation, he agrees. Victoria and Argylle stop by the city’s guard tower to speak with the captain of the city watch, a man named Ramiro (NPC, he/him). Ramiro informs them that the city watch hasn’t really bothered to deal with the brigands at all, since the mines don’t belong to the city but to a private company in Forlante (owned in part by Duke Manuelo himself). The mines were sold to this company by the Arysians who own the land, so that both Arysians and Nokorans would be able to work in the mines (Nokoran religious law prevents Nokorans from working directly under those of other faiths), and the city has since attempted to purchase the mines from the company which has refused to sell. Victoria asks if Captain Ramiro would be willing to lend them some guards to go with them to the mines, and he agrees, lending them a small force.

The party finally heads out to the mines, accompanied by Priest Garrett and the handful of city watchmen sent by Captain Ramiro. They arrive at the Arysian encampment, where most of the mineworkers live temporarily so they don’t have to travel back and forth between the mine and the city. Garrett informs Amarita as she helps him tend to the wounds of the injured workers that there have been deaths amongst the miners attacked by the brigands, in addition to the plethora of injuries. Meanwhile, the rest of the party wanders the camp, listening to people and asking some questions, and discover that not only are the Arysians the primary target of the brigands, but many of the Arysian workers believe that these are targeted attacks to get them to abandon the mines so that the city can take them over. They also believe that the brigands are hiding out in an abandoned keep in a nearby wood, though they don't know how many there are.

The party decides the best way to find out what’s up with the attacks is to lie in wait and see if they can ambush the ambush-ers, and so settle in to see if they can catch any brigands. As the party waits, Amarita spots some shadowy figures moving through the underbrush towards the mines, and the party attacks, with the hope of capturing their opponents and questioning them when the battle concludes…

[magnificenteggsfarmpeanut]

Reyssane takes a sip of horse milk, Feya's mischievous voice dances with excitement. "Oh, Rickeur, have you ever seen such wondrous creatures? Those dragons, they're like fire and poetry combined!"

Rickeur chuckles softly, his voice carrying a touch of admiration. "Indeed, Feya, they possess an elegance that defies the imagination. One could almost be lured by their enchanting dance across the heavens."

Their voices intertwine like a playful melody, blending with the rustling leaves and distant dragon roars. Feya, unable to contain her jesting nature, continues, "You know, Rickeur, if only we could find a way to tame those dragons, we'd have a magnificent ride and the envy of all!"

Rickeur's response carries a hint of caution amidst the banter. "Ah, Feya, to tame a dragon is a task that eludes even the bravest souls. They are creatures of wild beauty, meant to soar freely across the skies."

Just as their playful exchange reaches its peak, the distant thunderous roar of a dragon reverberates through the air, causing them to fall silent. Intrigued, a young boy bursts onto the scene, gasping for breath. "Is it true? Has a dragon truly landed in the forest?" he asks, his voice filled with wonder and excitement.

Feya, nonchalant and quick-witted, dismisses the notion with a casual wave of her hand. "Oh, dear child, no dragon would dare venture into this forest. Its stench alone would drive them away. Fear not, your imagination must have run wild."

The conversation fades into the background as Reyssane, focused on her grand heist, resumes her journey towards the city. The tales of the wealthy lord and the stolen prince's treasures beckon her audacity and cunning. With each step, Reyssane's determination grows, her mind filled with whimsical plans and the thrill of outwitting the rich lord who dares to claim what is rightfully hers.

The city awaits, promising an adventure filled with whimsy, danger, and the chance to reclaim stolen treasures. And so, our audacious bandit girl, Reyssane, sets forth with a gleam in her eye and a heart brimming with excitement, ready to weave her magical tale within the tapestry of a fantastical world. Scene 2: In the bustling city, Lord Xhankrus, the reluctant Duke, tends to his garden, a rare moment of respite from his burdensome position. His distaste for his new role stems from a daring act of offering unsolicited advice to the childless king, an act that brought him nothing but misfortune.

As Xhankrus carefully waters his flowers, his thoughts are interrupted by a sudden crash. A small dragon has flown into him, causing a momentary panic. With a mix of apprehension and annoyance, Xhankrus addresses the dragon. "Oh no, you must stay away from me. It would be better if your parents did not land here and bring destruction upon this wretched city. Shoo, shoo!"

The small dragon, curious yet undeterred by Xhankrus' plea, gazes at him briefly before getting up and swiftly flying away. Xhankrus sighs in relief, grateful that the encounter did not escalate. Deep within, however, he carries a nagging sense that tonight will not bode well. Dragons, known to be harbingers of ill fortune, seldom interact with humans. Xhankrus, lost in his thoughts, muses to himself about the inherent misfortune associated with dragons.

Xhankrus: Dragons, oh how they are feared and despised. Their presence brings nothing but trouble and sorrow. A bad omen, they say, lurking in the shadows of destiny. It is as if their very existence taints the air with impending doom. And now, one has crossed my path, an ill omen indeed.

He pauses, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and bitterness.

Xhankrus: Ah, but what use is there in dwelling on such superstitions? The city's fate is already marred by my ill-fated words to the king. Dragons or no dragons, the consequences of my audacity shall unravel in due time. Perhaps tonight, the weight of my actions will cast its dark shadow upon me.

With a heavy sigh, Xhankrus resumes tending to his garden, hoping to find solace amidst the vibrant blooms. Little does he know that fate, entangled with the whims of dragons, will soon weave its unpredictable tapestry, challenging his beliefs and unraveling a path he never expected to tread.

Scene 3: The weight of Xhankrus's discontent plagues him like a burden of boulders, dampening his spirits and tainting his dreams. Lost in a realm of slumber, he groans, relishing a fleeting moment of tranquility. However, his respite is abruptly shattered as a weight crashes upon him, the impact of the boulder's limb smacking his face.

Startled and in pain, Xhankrus releases a louder groan, only to be met with a startled exclamation. "Shit!" A young girl hastily scrambles away from him, realizing her unintentional intrusion. Swiftly, Xhankrus retrieves a knife concealed within his pillow, pressing it against the girl's neck. With a swift motion, he pulls her back, ensuring she no longer poses an immediate threat.

Xhankrus: What do you want? Who are you? My apologies, I am not skilled in handling unexpected encounters. Please, enlighten me. Are there others accompanying you in this place?

The girl, unperturbed by the blade pressed against her neck, meets Xhankrus' gaze with a glimmer of audacity.

Reyssane: I mean you no harm, Lord Xhankrus. I sought gold, but now it seems you must pay the price for hearing my voice. In the struggle, she strikes Xhankrus lightly in the stomach with her elbow, causing him to wince. With nimble dexterity, she wrests the knife from his grip, injuring herself in the process.

Xhankrus, bewildered yet intrigued, demands answers once more, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and curiosity.

Xhankrus: Tell me, who are you? Your audacity amuses and unsettles me in equal measure.

Reyssane, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, responds with a coy smile.

Reyssane: I have a special introduction reserved for moments such as these. She taps her foot lightly against the wooden floor and declares, "I am Reyssane, daughter of the thief known as Many Faces. But unlike him, I am a spore that grows and poisons!"

Xhankrus, aghast and overcome with embarrassment, calls for the guards, hoping to rid himself of this unexpected intruder.

Xhankrus: Guards! Quickly, dispose of her! She is a menace to my realm!

However, Reyssane swiftly evades capture by leaping out of the window, landing gracefully on her side. She swiftly disappears into the shroud of night, leaving Xhankrus and his guards stunned by her escape.

In the aftermath of this unexpected encounter, Xhankrus contemplates the implications of Reyssane's introduction, the taste of embarrassment lingering upon his tongue. Little does he know that this encounter with the audacious bandit girl is merely the beginning of a dance that will entangle their fates in ways he could never have foreseen.

A month passes, and the fates intertwine Xhankrus and Reyssane once again, though under circumstances far from favorable. Xhankrus, atop his steed, traverses the countryside when his eyes catch sight of a harrowing sight. Reyssane hangs precariously from her feet, suspended from a tree, a vulnerable figure in need of rescue. Without hesitation, Xhankrus dismounts his horse, rushing to her aid.

Xhankrus: Reyssane! How did you find yourself in such a perilous situation?

Reyssane, her voice tinged with a mix of pain and frustration, responds with a hint of defiance.

Reyssane: I admit, I made a grave mistake. I robbed the wrong man, and this is the consequence I face. But, pray tell, what concern is it of yours, Lord Xhankrus?

Xhankrus, his eyes filled with both sternness and a glimmer of compassion, gently frees Reyssane from her entrapment.

Xhankrus: It matters to me because, despite our adversarial circumstances, I cannot stand idly by and watch you suffer such a fate. We may be on opposing sides of the law, but even in our differences, there is a spark of something more.

Reyssane, her body still weak from the ordeal, gazes into Xhankrus' eyes, her voice softer than before.

Reyssane: You speak of compassion, yet our paths are riddled with conflict. How can we find solace amidst this enmity?

Xhankrus, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his composed exterior, reaches out to touch Reyssane's cheek gently.

Xhankrus: Our lives may be entangled in a web of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there lies a connection that defies the boundaries of societal expectations. We are more than just adversaries, Reyssane. We are two souls entwined in a dance that is yet to reveal its true purpose.

Reyssane, her eyes searching Xhankrus' face for sincerity, can sense the conflict within him.

Reyssane: Are you suggesting that beneath the roles we play, there could be a glimmer of friendship, perhaps even care?

Xhankrus, his voice filled with longing and uncertainty, takes Reyssane's hand in his own.

Xhankrus: I dare to believe that within this tumultuous dance, a fragile bond may be forged. A connection that transcends societal expectations and embraces the complexities of our hearts. Can we not explore the possibility of a path less traveled, where animosity gives way to understanding?

Reyssane, her defenses slowly crumbling, squeezes Xhankrus' hand gently, her voice carrying a note of vulnerability.

Reyssane: Perhaps, beneath the shadows of our roles, lies a chance for something unexpected. A friendship that defies the boundaries set upon us. Let us explore this uncharted territory, Lord Xhankrus, for in this journey, we may find solace and a deeper understanding of one another.

Their eyes meet, sparking with a mixture of passion, hostility, and the flicker of a newfound connection. Bound by circumstance yet unyielding in their desires, Xhankrus and Reyssane embark on a delicate journey, weaving together a historical romance where love and understanding emerge amidst the turbulence of their lives.

Gratitude fills Reyssane's heart as she expresses her appreciation to Xhankrus for rescuing her from the perilous predicament. A glimmer of vulnerability shines in her eyes as she poses a delicate request.

Reyssane: Lord Xhankrus, I am indebted to you for your timely intervention. In return, I beseech you, would you do me the honor of burying the bodies of these unfortunate ladies? They were night owls, caught in the web of darkness.

Xhankrus hesitates, his mind fraught with conflicting thoughts and the weight of his responsibilities.

Xhankrus: Reyssane, I understand the plight of these souls, but involving myself in such matters would bring about unwanted complications. The realms of the night owls are shrouded in mystery and danger, beyond the boundaries of my realm.

Reyssane, her voice tinged with determination, steps closer to Xhankrus, refusing to back down from her plea.

Reyssane: These night owls were once vibrant beings, with dreams and desires intertwined with their nocturnal existence. They deserve a final resting place, free from the clutches of the shadows. I implore you, Lord Xhankrus, to reconsider and embrace the responsibility that lies before you.

Xhankrus, his expression hardened yet filled with a flicker of curiosity, meets Reyssane's gaze.

Xhankrus: Reyssane, you ask me to delve into realms unknown, to face the enigmatic forces that govern the night. It is a daunting task, one that may unravel the delicate balance of my world. Can we not seek an alternative path, one that does not entangle us further in these shadowed domains?

Reyssane, her voice filled with conviction, refuses to yield, her eyes burning with an unwavering determination.

Reyssane: Lord Xhankrus, the night owls have suffered enough. They are souls yearning for peace, lost amidst the chaos. I believe that together, we can navigate these ethereal realms, dispelling the darkness that haunts them. Let us rise above our fears and prejudices and embrace the call to restore balance.

Xhankrus, his resolve tested, realizes the strength in Reyssane's words. He takes a deep breath, his voice softened yet resolute.

Xhankrus: Very well, Reyssane. In your conviction, I find the courage to face the unknown. Together, we shall venture into the realms of the night owls, honoring the fallen and bringing solace to their restless spirits. Our paths may be entwined in an uncharted tapestry, but united, we shall forge a new chapter in the history of our fantastical realm.

As they prepare to embark on their unprecedented journey, Reyssane and Xhankrus embrace the realm of historical fantasy, where love, duty, and the pursuit of justice intertwine with the mystical forces that govern their world. The shadows of the night owls await, and with their combined strength and determination, they strive to bring light and peace to the fallen souls who have been forgotten by the daylight realm.

In the dim light of dusk, Reyssane and Xhankrus labor together, digging a solemn grave for the bodies of the meagerly dressed women. The earth yields beneath their shovels, each movement a somber reflection of the task at hand. A contemplative silence envelops them, until Reyssane breaks it with a heartfelt question.

Reyssane: Will you pray for the night owls, Lord Xhankrus? Surely Kamaria, the goddess of the night, will allow a word in honor of her lost daughters.

Xhankrus, taken aback by Reyssane's devotion, responds with incredulity.

Xhankrus: Kamaria? You worship a dead god? These women are naught but common whores. Fancy names will not alter their essence.

Reyssane's eyes blaze with fiery determination, her voice unwavering as she defends her belief.

Reyssane: They are Kamaria's girls, and I will not stand for derogatory words to be thrown upon them. Will you not join me in prayer, Lord Xhankrus?

Xhankrus, his skepticism still evident, shakes his head resolutely.

Xhankrus: No, I shall not pray. These women were not paragons of virtue, and it is not my place to send empty words into the void.

Reyssane, undeterred by his refusal, challenges him with a hint of defiance.

Reyssane: Very well, if you will not pray, then I shall. But before you attack me with your doubts and judgments, allow me this moment.

With the bodies laid to rest, Reyssane bows her head in silence, her lips moving in fervent prayer to the goddess Kamaria.

Reyssane: Kamaria, as these women were used and abused in their earthly existence, I implore you to cradle them within your ethereal hands. Grant them healing and redemption, and in your divine power, transform them into beings who shall never suffer at the hands of another man. Whether as men or as rich women, may they find solace and peace in their newfound lives.

The sacred words linger in the air, carrying the weight of Reyssane's unwavering faith. Xhankrus, though still harboring doubts, cannot deny the sincerity and compassion in her plea. A newfound respect begins to take root within him, opening his heart to the possibilities beyond the confines of his rigid beliefs.

Together, they stand in silent contemplation, their differences bridged by a shared sense of duty and compassion. The bodies of the fallen night owls find their final resting place, accompanied by the whispered prayer that holds the hopes and wishes of Reyssane for their eternal peace and rebirth.

The tension between Xhankrus and Reyssane reaches its breaking point, escalating into a fierce clash of swords. Their blades clash with a resounding clash of steel, their movements fueled by a potent mix of anger, frustration, and a strange attraction that defies logic.

Their duel unfolds with an intensity that can only be matched by the tempestuous storm swirling within their hearts. Each strike and parry reflects their skill and determination, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. But fate, in its cruel whimsy, intervenes with a devastating twist.

As the guards rush forward to subdue Reyssane, their blows veer off course, tragically finding their mark in her eye. A searing pain engulfs her being, and a scream erupts from her lips, echoing through the air with a chilling resonance.

Her anguished cry reverberates in the heavens, summoning a dragon from the depths of the sky. With a thunderous roar, the majestic creature descends, its fiery breath engulfing the earth, consuming everything and everyone in its path.

Amidst the chaos, Xhankrus, a fool driven by a love forged in the depths of a moonlit encounter, instinctively throws himself in front of Reyssane, shielding her from the scorching flames. The dragon's wrath, unleashed upon the world, seems unstoppable.

No one can truly comprehend the reason behind the dragon's attack. Some believe it was sparked by Reyssane's agonizing scream, her voice acting as a catalyst for the ancient creature's rage. Others dismiss it as mere coincidence or the whims of a bored dragon, seeking to test the might of its flames upon the mortal realm. And there are those who attribute it to the rise of Fire as a religion, fueled by the survival of Reyssane herself.

The devastation wrought by the dragon's fury leaves no survivors to bear witness to the truth. Yet, the dragons continue to circle the continent, their watchful gaze fixed upon the realm of humans, an enigma shrouded in mystery.

There are many legends told about Reyssane and Xhankrus. In the aftermath of the cataclysmic event, Xhankrus emerges, wounded but alive, his act of selflessness etched in the annals of history. Reyssane, though scarred both physically and emotionally, defies death's embrace, her survival defying explanation.

Legends are born from such moments, tales spun and woven by the whispers of the people. The dragons, guardians of the sky, continue their vigil, their motives remaining elusive. And in the hearts of those who dare to believe, Reyssane becomes the first in a lineage of Ssanes whose voice is said to call forth the ancient creatures.

Yet, as the stories and beliefs intertwine, the true nature of that fateful day remains elusive, locked within the flames of the dragon's wrath and the silent echoes of the fallen. The dragons, their presence a constant reminder of the fragile balance between humanity and the unknown, watch and wait, their secrets held within the depths of their fiery eyes.

Authors note:

If more than 50 people buy me a one dollar gift card I can afford something really nice a kitchen! Please help the government is focusing on making himself a king of black people.

https://www.amazon.com/Amazon-eGift-Card-Logo/dp/B07PCMWTSG/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=2WNE9RRWS1YZA&keywords=euro+gift+cards+for+amazon&qid=1680379373&sprefix=euro+egiftcard%2Caps%2C222&sr=8-1

My blog: https://inlovewithghost.wordpress.com/

[kisant]

I have reached the Goddess Tower in my Verdant Wind playthrough and I have some Claude thoughts. I have commented before that I liked that Claude is such an inquisitive character. There is a big duality aspect with him, because Claude really hates when people and institutions hide the truth from him, and yet he hides his own name, past and ambitions from everyone else during White Clouds. The conclusion that I have reached with Claude, in short, is that Claude is someone who starts out with the mentality of a spy in a hostile country, but gets attached to the Golden Deer and to Byleth during his year at Garreg Mach.

Analyzing Claude’s growth in contrast with Edelgard’s and Dimitri’s during white clouds, I’d say that all of them start closed off, and get attached to their new relationships in Garreg Mach, much like Byleth grows as a person through their role as a teacher.  Edelgard starts out hiding her agenda of revolution against the church and her future betrayal of TWSID due to necessity. If she gets caught red handed, she would get executed on the spot, as we saw in the Holy Tomb. She yearns to forge genuine bonds with Byleth and the Black Eagles, but she’s also resigned to have to leave them all except for Hubert behind. Edelgard is grateful and surprised when Byleth and the Eagles choose to take her side in the Holy Tomb rather than blindly following Rhea’s commands.  Dimitri doesn’t hide information out of fear of discovery, he simply takes a while to trust Byleth, and the reason for it was the Ashen Demon. Dimitri initially fears Byleth because Ashen Demon Byleth seemed to kill without guilt or a conscience. When he sees that Byleth is simply a stoic person, but that they feel deeply and care about their loved ones and their students, Dimitri opens up about his past and his objectives.  Claude differs from the two of them because he starts out pretty hostile and mean spirited. For example, he intentionally attempts to use Edelgard and Dimitri as human shields and distractions to cover up his escape from the bandits in the paralogue, and goes for the emotional neck in the mock battle, needling Edelgard about her fear of rats and Dimitri about having a crush on Edelgard. And this is because Claude is, initially, a spy for Almyra.  Claude has his own plans and his own ambitions. He takes the chance of becoming Duke Riegan’s heir and studying at Garreg Mach because doing so would help him further his own ambitions. Basically, it’s a one in a lifetime opportunity to look for key information in the usually isolationist Fodlan. As Claude von Riegan, he can study in the monastery, meet the heirs of all the important noble houses, investigate how the weapons of Fodlan work (crests and relics) and try to uncover the secrets and history of the Church. All of this information would put him in an advantageous position once he took up his role as one of the princes of Almyra once again. 

So Claude begins the WC year as a spy in a hostile territory. He’s mean spirited, he’s closed off, he deflects all attempts to have a sincere conversation with him. And, gradually, he gets attached. He lets Byleth in as a friend, and gets excited about showing them the interesting information that he is able to dig out of the church library. His conversations and interactions with his classmates get progressively kinder, he stops trolling as much and starts to empathize more. And it all culminates in making the promise to meet again as a class in five years. 

For Edelgard, this moment represents the faint hope that Byleth and the Eagles will have chosen to side with her in the war that she intends to start. For Dimitri, it’s the hope that the relationships that he has made as a student will endure the test of time and distance, because what Dimitri wants is to be understood, and for his precious people not to leave him. And for Claude, this moment is also incredibly important as a character, because it means that Byleth and the Golden Deer have grown on him, that he has grown to value them as people rather than as convenient tools for his ambitions or information sources on the secrets of Fodlan. 

In five years, and without taking into account Edelgard’s war (something Claude didn’t think would happen), Claude wouldn’t have been Archduke Riegan or the Leader of the Alliance. He would have been Prince Khalid of Almyra. And he was hoping that the Golden Deer and Byleth would still welcome him back even as the prince of an “enemy” nation, that he would be able to come back to Garreg Mach as himself. That’s the “great ambitions that grew throughout the year” that Claude refers to when he talks with F!Byleth at the Goddess Tower. 

Edelgard and Claude similar in this way, because both fo them long for the people who they have grown close to in Garreg Mach to still accept them once they drop the masks and reveal their true identities. 

[lvlinn]

Whumptober day 5: "blood loss"

Getting stabbed to protect his master wasn't really Magnus' brightest plan.

______________________________________________________________

It all went so fast. Eugene, the heir to house Ilvermore and his personal retainer Magnus were travelling east to the capital. There was a big event hosted by the King himself. Most of the minor nobility and wealth was invited, so was all of the Ilvermore family.

The Lord, his wife and their daughter Delia had already left for the capital a few days ago to take care of some business. Eugene wasn't all that excited to spend so much time in the bustling town, being recognised by every other person. So he asked if he could depart on the day of the event, accompanied by his retainer.

So, there they were, sitting opposite to each other in the carriage in complete silence, looking at the changing landscape around them. Magnus had attempted to start a conversation several times, but his master had brushed it off every single time. The retainer could tell that Eugene was nervous about his visit in the capital.

He knew he didn't like being around so many people, especially the other Lords and Dukes, who would question him about his future as the Lord of Ilvermore relentlessly. It was totally understandable to Magnus.

They were sitting in the carriage for like what felt like an eternity, when it abruptly stopped. Magnus threw a confused glance at Eugene, who was looking out of the window. They weren't anywhere near the capital yet. The landscape looked rural, vast hills and some trees and bushes.

"Sir, what is going on?", Eugene yelled out of the window. There was no answer from the coachman. He looked at Magnus, a look on his face that was asking him to go out and check what the issue was. Magnus just nodded. He was curious about it too.

So, the two of them stepped out of the carriage and peeked around the corner to see what was happening. The moment they laid their eyes on the scene, both of them froze up.

Bandits. A whole bunch of them. And they were armed with swords and crossbows. Magnus whispered to his master to stay back. He couldn't let him get hurt.

From there on, everything went downhill. One of the bandits lunged forward, sword drawn. Eugene wanted to confront them, but Magnus pushed him to the side, exposing himself to the blade.

Next thing he knew, a sharp pain spread through his side. He turned around to Eugene, whos eyes were widened in shock. He heard his name being called out, then his knees buckled and he blacked out.

When Magnus woke up he was confused. He felt kind of funny, like he suddenly weighed half of his original weight. Was this the afterlife? Was he dead? No, he was sure people didn't feel pain in the afterlife and he definitely was in pain.

"Magnus? Are you with me? Please, wake up!"

Someone was yelling. It sounded... desperate. Was that Eugene? Why was he so upset? Slowly, he cracked an eye open.

Blood. Eugene was covered in blood. Was he hurt? Magnus tried to sit up, but was pushed down again.

"Don't move.", Eugene said. "We're almost there."

There. There, where? That's when Magnus noticed that they were moving. Fast. They were in the carriage. Magnus' head resting on Eugene's lap, laying sprawled out on one of the benches.

Both of Eugene's hands were pressed to Magnus' stomach. Confused, Magnus tilted his head to look down at himself. Oh. That was where all that blood was coming from. Maybe that was why he was feeling so lightheaded too. And tired he was so tired, he could feel his eyes slip shut again.

"Magnus, no. no, don't you dare fall asleep now!", Eugene yelled frantically, shaking Magnus' shoulder.

"'m tired.", he mumbled. With the sound of Eugene's panicky shouting in the background, he passed out once again.

Blood. So much blood. Eugene didn't even know a person had that much blood. To be fair, Magnus was quite tall so he could fit a bit of it, but still, seeing it all spill out of him was a completely different story.

It had happened way too fast. Those bandits showed up out of nowhere and attacked without hesitation. Magnus had practically jumped into the sword to protect Eugene. In his mind, he could still hear the sound of the blade burying itself in his retainers stomach. He cringed at the thought.

After a moment of shock, Eugene had practically dragged Magnus back into the carriage, shouting at the coachman to drive to the capital as fast as he could. The bandits followed them for a bit, but they were able to outrun them.

And now they were there, sitting on the bench of the carriage, Magnus slowly bleeding out in Eugene's arms. The retainer was drifting in and out of consciousness, but was never coherent enough to actually realize what was happening.

Eugene had pressed his hands against the deep cut on Magnus' stomach, blood spilling through the cracks of his fingers. Magnus was shaking slightly, breaths coming out in irregular huffs and his face was as pale as a sheet.

"Hang in there, please.", he mumbled. He couldn't lose Magnus. Not yet. Not like this.

"Can't you go any faster!", Eugene yelled out of the window, hoping that the coachman in the front would hear him. That's when he saw houses. And people. They were in the capital.

The second time Magnus remembered waking up, he was in agony. His entire body was screaming at him, shaking violently as someone held him down. He felt the hot flash of healing magic flow through him.

Healing magic? Why was he being healed? And by who? He let out a small whimper.

"It's going to be alright, just hold still.", a faint voice said. "I'm almost done."

It sounded familiar. But he couldn't think of anything through the haze of his mind.

Another wave of pain shot through his body before he once again lost consciousness.

The third time Magnus woke up, everything was quiet. And dark. He could make out faint voices, like they were talking in another room. With a groan, he attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his stomach and he immediately collapsed onto the matress again.

Where was he? A small stream of light came in through the gap in the closed curtains. The room seemed unfamiliar.

Suddenly, the door opened. "Magnus?" It was Eugene's voice. He let out a heavy sigh. "Thank the heavens."

The curtains were opened a bit, more light flowed into the room. "Eugene.", Magnus mumbled. He felt kind of weak, even though he had probably slept for quite some time. "What.... What happened?"

"You're a fool, that's what happened." Eugene shook his head. "You practically ran into that blade like a lunatic. Elize said if we had taken only a few minutes longer, she wouldn't have been sure if you would pull through."

Magnus was quiet. He didn't know what to say. It was his duty to protect his master in any situation, even if it would cost him his own life.

"Magnus.", Eugene said after a moment of silence. "Promise me that you'll never do something like this again. Please."

"I... I can't" Magnus avoided eye contact with his master. "It's my job to look after you, even if it means hurting myself."

Eugene rolled his eyes. "Fine..." He hesitated. "Then promise me one thing. Don't die, okay?"

Magnus chuckled. "I'll try."

[commence-screaming]

omg hi thanks so much for the warm welcome! so glad there's other people who enjoy the weird image of payday i have in my head... would be more than happy to chat and share ideas with everyone uwu

Yes you’re welcome! I guess I’ll give you the grand tour. WARNING: maybe finish the storyline before clicking on any of these people, haha. View at your own discretion, my post doesn’t have any spoilers but the ppl themselves do!!

Hhhhhh and if any of this is wrong, please feel free to correct me.

First I’ll introduce myself…

Herro, I’m DesBea! (Ao3) or des-paa-cee-toeee, or commence. I arrived in the fandom almost 4 months ago, now I’m a resident Bain stan,, (my friends call me a simp and it’s true)

I write angst and sometimes fluff. I draw a lot but it’s all spoilers, come to think of it ALL MY WRITING IS TOO. I love metaphors and pronouns, they’re so cool. Also IMPORTANT: I have a noodle brain and I’m forgetful, please be patient with me I’m tryin—

I started off on PS4, (I don’t recommend that)

I’m Infamy VII on PC right now and am willing to help users here on tumblr if they message me! If you’re doing Career I’m more than happy to oblige?? (That would be my fourth time playing through the whole thing)

I might’ve accidentally converted the PAYDAY tumblr fandom into really liking Bain, oops. I’m not sorry though.

Now for other people:

Me telling ppl about angst fic concepts

@artcupcakes or AC! Does some headcanons and is just a nice person to interact with. I think AC’s pronouns are she/her? Ships WolfHox, MasterGuide/NaviMind and uhhhh wait that’s all, right? I think I saw her tag Houston/Chains once, don’t quote me on that. Part of the SNEAKY TAGGING SQUAD. Stans Duke.

Very talented artist and is making a good foray into writing! She likes being asked questions (though I think we all do?) and has a bunch of motivation to do everything. I talk to her and she’s amazing, VERY COOL.

(accidentally tricked her into shipping Bain with Dallas, oops… I don’t even write rrooommancceee)

@what-yadoking-likes or Yado! FUNNY PERSON. The screenshots I took makes it seem as if she’s a major Bain stan, not really though I just thought it was funny. Only writes and rarely draws but like. The best writer out of all of us;; she’s so good at describing things what?? She put her skill points into being an author! Knows more lore than I do.

Does the most random headcanons… very popular for GOOD REASON, she’s great!! Ships WolfHox, MasterGrinder and sometimes MasterGuide/NaviMind.

(OOPS OOPS I dropped my Bain headcanons sorry— wait you ship them more now? Is this because of me???)

@hoxooster or I call him Hoxo! Very talkative and usually reblogs other people’s posts! He’s one of the Payday content regulars, and I find myself super engrossed in the real life stories he tells in his tags. Hoxo has a penchant for relating posts to experiences he’s had and wow. Also talks a lot, VERY NICE TO HOLD CONVERSATIONS WITH.

LOLLLL okay I got permission to tag this dude so here he is. @existentialcrisisetcetera or Bandit reached out to me a couple weeks ago because they liked all the spoiler ANGST ASKS I gave to AC.

Don’t let these screenshots fool you, they like angst TOO like me?? A WEIRDO. (affectionate) Does better metaphors than everyone I’ve met like WOAHHHH. Is the type of person to cry and then immediately go “body horror? favorite trope :3”

Doesn’t post Payday stuff, but is a very awesome supporter and I appreciate them. Also likes Bain so that’s a plus in my book. (actually I think we all do after those asks/detailed posts I did, not including the next person because—)

@bainposting spoilers everywhere for this dude, BUT. Apparently has been stanning Bain for all alone for years. If you find a stray voice line tag kaz and send it over to them(?) bad memory I forget pronouns. Also will do random text posts like the second pic. Really funny.

Anyway, welcome! I’m super biased towards my DUDE and have only been here for a little while so. There’s more people like s-w-a-n and jacket-enjoyer but I’m shy and don’t want to tag people that I haven’t interacted with too much ; ; sorry you guys.

[quercusfloreal]

Le 3e Gédéon

I was hesitating to talk about it but here we go. May I introduce you to the manga "Le 3e Gédéon".

Warning long post

What it's about ?

Manga in 8 volumes, it tells the story of Gédéon Aymé who dreams of becoming a deputy to the Estates General to save the people from misery. George, the Duke of Loire and his former comrade, also seeks to change the system, but instead use violence to achieve his goal. This is going to be a story where the two characters will fight each other, one wanting peace and peaceful change, the other a radical and violent change.

What did I think of it ?

I found the story good. It manages to mix fiction and French revolution. It's full of inconsistencies but somehow it works. However I wouldn’t advise this manga to everyone. There is psychological and physical torture, gore and nudity. The images can sometimes be very crude.

What about historians characters ?

Well, we have the most badass portrayal of Louis I've ever seen in my life, he’s able to detect the slightest lie. Marie Antoinette may seem shallow, but she knows perfectly well how to play her charms to turn the tables in her favor. Their couple is interesting because each of them can't really love the other completely. Madame Roland is an ambitious woman who we learn had a daughter with Gédéon. Saint-Just is the slightly confused teenager who will eventually grow up and assert himself. Charles Philippe, the sociopathic Count of Artois, wants his brother's place and Elisabeth, the king's sister, wants Marie-Antoinette's place.

But what about Robespierre ?

I said in an old conversation that Maxime had daddy issues. Let me explain. One of the main themes of this manga is family and father figures. We learn that Gideon's father is the duke and he has exchanged his son's place with George so that Gédéon can be closer to the people. George has a real grudge against the duke because when Gédéon will be older, he should have become a servant again. But by trapping Gideon he kept his place.

Maxime has a real grudge against his father and George will use this information to manipulate him.

The first time we hear about Robespierre is in the first chapter. George is looking for easily manipulated men who can help him destroy the old system. Saint-Just, recruited by George, tells him that Max would be a potential candidate. Maxime is invited to George's house and has to save a former peasant, now a bandit, from the death penalty because he attacked George. Of course Maxime succeeds but it was a test. Of course, George can’t deny Maxime's skills but I believe it’s hearing the conversation between Maxime and Gédéon about Gédéon’s daughter that made him decide :

Robespierre : Shouldn’t you start trying to be a good family man ? You should leave the Assembly to single people like me !

We see Robespierre again later in a rather amusing scene with Gédéon. Gédéon, drunk, says Saint-Just's erotic writings told the boy is a virgin and is amused. And who is the virgin in the same bar as Gédéon? Boom Maxime !

Their following conversation will confirm that Louis XVI is the father of the kingdom.

Yeah, but when does George act ? Well, Gédéon sees Maxime again when the Estates General stagnate and there is a talk about creating a new assembly. Since Gideon is now part of the King's police force, Maxime asks him if he can meet the King discreetly to solve the problem. But without clearly knowing it, George is already starting to manipulate Maxime.

Keep in mind the puppet representation. It will be important for the next step. Because it’s present when Maxime's words contradict a part of his thoughs and when this thoughs takes controls.

After Gédeon refuses to join Saint-Just, Maxime explains to him, if Gédéon continues to hang out with the royal family, there will be repercussions. And if Gédéon tries to find his lost daughter and make politics at the same time, he will lose both. Because for Maxime, children are burden to their parents. Maxime explains his childhood, his dead mother and his father who left. He is resentful of himself because he believes it was his behavior as a child that made his father disappear, that he was a burden to him. This is why he doesn’t want children.

But underneath this justification, even if he pretends the opposite, he has hatred towards this father who abandoned him.

Gédéon : You have the right to hate your father.

Robespierre : In this case, I have the right to kill him, right ?

On the day of the meeting with the king, on the way to the palace, Maxime admits to Gédéon that his father sends him letters. In this letters, his father talks about his new family. Of course he knows that this is probably a trap, but we feel that it’s a sensitive subject for him.

Robespierre : Over my shoulder, I saw myself when I was ten years old.

Then comes one of my favorite scenes, a scene of tension between Louis XVI and Robespierre. Louis explains there are three locks on the table, if he thinks Maxime is lying, he will break one of them.

Robespierre : Since that time, I have always respected you as a father.

Louis XVI : One...You were warned, lies don't work. Either you don't respect us, or you don't respect the concept of a father.

After two, Maxime admits being one of the instigators of the problems at the Estates General and to make it stop, Necker must be dismissed because he makes promises that the nobility will never accept. Louis accept to think about it.

And here comes the chapter where I most wanted seeing George to lose and die painfully because his plan is totally twisted. Maxime receives a letter from his father who tells him that Henriette might not have died if he had been there, implying that it is Maxime's fault that he left. Then Maxime sees in front of his house a woman abused by a man. He threatens to take him to court but the guy explains that Maxime has nothing to say about the correction of a husband to his wife, named is Henriette...Oh boy !

The next day, Maxime proposes her to leave her husband, that he can help her by offering her a place in the convent of Arras. There, she would be safe. But she refuses because her husband will find her and she is unworthy of his help. Maxime feels unable to do anything. He remembers his dying sister. In the evening, another intermission, but this time Maxime decides to act. He intervenes until the girl confesses her father married her.

At this words, Maxime becomes mad and releases all the hatred he has accumulated towards his father. George's plan to make him forget any peaceful method succeeded

Robespierre now lets his hate guide him. If Louis is the father of the kingdom and the father of his subjects, then he must pay too. He goes to see Necker, tells him to accept his resignation to become a martyr and harangues the assembly to join the people and take up arms. He explains the first attack will be at the Invalides, then the people need to take care of the Bastille afterwards, because it is a royal symbol.

Camille : Maxime notice me !

Gédéon doesn’t agree with Robespierre, he thinks it’s necessary to think of a more peaceful method because it risks having deaths. He no longer recognizes his friend

Robespierre : I assure you Gédéon, I haven’t changed. Gentlemen ! Listen up ! We've been trying to find a resolution through dialogue for a long time! Alas, all our efforts have been in vain...a pure waste of time...and why !?

Robespierre : You too, Gédéon, I bet you've seen abused children love their fathers so much that they fall apart. Gédéon: Yes...

We see him again only after the march of the women on Versailles. Gédéon tells him that George is the one who sent him the letters and played on his dislike for his father to kill the king. He wants to find the wise and peaceful Robespierre.

Gédéon : And this other one love his father.

But Maxime does not believe him. His hatred is still too strong. When another lawyer asks Maxime to save a man, Maxime takes time to think, because the man looks like his father. It’s the words of Saint-Just that convince him to give up this man because he had previously seen the damage caused by the Duke of Loire on his sons George and Gédéon.

Robespierre : He’s a complete stranger, there is no doubt about it !! Saint-Just : Wouldn't it be better if he were really your father? If he were condemned to death, you would be delivered from him.

Saint-Just : Destroying everything to build a new order, that's what I think revolution is !

Finally, Maxime is released when the king died. Gédéon has found the death certificate of his father, confirming Maxime has sent an innocent man to death. Maxime seems to be happy on the day of the king's death but when he saw George and reconised him as the girl he tried to save, everything gets destroyed. He cries because after all he has done, he cannot go back.

Saint-Just embraces Maxime who he’s crying : I will always remain at your side, until death separates us.

The last time we see him is when marie-Antoinette curses him and other revolutionaries at her execution;

I reconize Saint-Just, Robespierre, Desmoulins, Marat ? (right middle), Danton, Hébert, Mme Roland, Augustin ? (bottom right)

[dailytudors]

The Beginning of Thomas Cromwell's Downfall

On June 10th, 1540, Thomas Cromwell was arrested on flimsy charges of treason and heresy. “Thomas Cromwell’s arrest” writes Hutchinson, “was as ruthless as it was sudden.”

Thomas Cromwell had traveled to Westminster Palace to take his place on the Privy Council. After the council, when everyone went to dinner, his mortal enemy, the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Howard, stood up and raised his voice and shouted “Cromwell! Do not sit there! That is no place for you! Traitors do not sit amongst gentlemen.”

When Thomas demanded to know what the hell was going on, the captain of the Guards, Anthony Wingfield and six more men came forward. Thomas Cromwell, as they predicted, did not go easily. He asked them what was the reason for his arrest, but the Captain of the Guards calmly told him that wasn’t his concern. He either went with them willingly and they wouldn’t hurt him, or else he resisted and they would use full force against him. Cromwell probably knew this day was coming. According to his latest biographer, Tracy Borman; Thomas Cromwell was plotting against the Duke of Norfolk just as he was plotting against Cromwell. It was only a matter of who got there first.

Henry VIII could have easily stopped this from happening but Henry was the main force here. Norfolk loaded the gun, and Henry pulled the trigger. He was very dissatisfied with his fourth bride, Anne of Cleves. And although he had known of her pre-contract with the Duke of Lorraine, he agreed to marry her anyway because he needed the Cleves alliance so badly. Once he saw her, he tried to get out of this arrangement saying that she was ugly and that she wasn’t a virgin. But the truth is that Henry didn’t like her because of their first meeting. That first meeting on January of that year really determined their short marriage. Whereas Henry’s previous wives (including his first foreign wife, Katherine of Aragon) were very conscious of their roles as Queens and familiar with the pageantry and the culture of courtly love; Anne was educated in a very strict household. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Or rather, her brother had no idea what she was going to getting his sister into. Anne was a fish out of water in the English court. Her garb was strange, she could barely speak English and she had no idea how to dance or engage in the types of conversation that other women of her adoptive country engaged on.

She was completely unprepared for this. And then came Henry VIII. He was no longer the handsome youth who had bedazzled so many women. He had grown morbidly obese and his ulcerous leg smelled bad. But being who he was, he still had a penchant for court drama so he thought of surprising his wife by arranging a playful visit to her. He and a few other courtiers dressed as bandits and arrived to Anne’s bedroom and started flirting with her ladies, including those she brought from Cleves.

You can imagine Anne’s horror as this happened. The leader of the bandits approached Anne and tried to speak with her and when he went too far –from Anne’s point of view- Anne pushed him away and told him to go away. For a man like Henry VIII with an ego the size of his realm, being told that he was disgusting and refused by in front of everyone, including his best friends, it was a huge humiliation. When he revealed who he was, Anne immediately apologized but it was too late. Her reaction made Henry make up his mind about her.

Cromwell tried many times to convince Anne to seduce Henry, to get on his good side but it wasn’t Anne who was at fault here, it was Henry. And it was Anne’s education. She hadn’t been told what she would be getting into, she hadn’t been prepared for this role the way her predecessors had been. Even her common predecessors. Anne Boleyn had served under three Queens, Jane under two. They knew state protocol, they knew all about courtly love. And Katherine of Aragon like Anne of Cleves had been a foreigner but one who had grown in a court that treasured courtly love and were dressing good was everything. She was skilled in dance, music, art, everything. Anne had practical skills which were seen as very useful, but ultimately they paled in comparison to her other predecessors.

Henry VIII directed his anger at Cromwell. Cromwell tried to tell him that he couldn’t get out of this arrangement so easily. He had agreed to marry Anne of Cleves, and there was nothing else he could say that would justify his repudiation of her. So Henry married her. But he was very angry at Cromwell. And Cromwell was taking too many liberties with his privileges position. Though Boarman believes that Anne was as ugly as Henry saw her, she does admit that it may have all been a matter of perception. And that one of the people who added more fuel to the fire of disappointment is Cromwell. Cromwell probably knew Anne was no great beauty, but by no means was she ugly. She could enchant the King. But Cromwell as always wanted to make sure that Henry would fall in love with her before he got to lay eyes on her so he started bragging about her beauty, saying that her hair shined like the sun, that her eyes were like stars, that her skin was so fair, etc. Then there was also the religious factor. Thomas Cromwell was a very methodical and pragmatic man; he did what the King asked him to. But he was also a Reformist sympathizer and his sympathies were becoming more obvious to the King and his enemies.

After Cromwell was apprehended by the royal guards, he lost it. He said very angrily “This then is the reward for all my services?” Then he turned to the members of the Privy Council “On your consciences, I ask you, am I a traitor?”

If Cromwell believed he was going to cause a big impression and leave everyone dumbfounded, he was sorely disappointed because soon after he asked this, everyone began yelling “Yes” and “Traitor”.

Read the rest here: https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2015/06/10/thomas-cromwells-fall-from-grace/