#desperately strikes a deal with Myrkul

[slverblood]

I haven’t even started the pt but I’m getting attached to this bhaalspawn. Might make then an NPC on here

[feedthepheasants]

begged & borrowed time - CH.20 out!

soooo sorry i planned to post way more but ended up in the woods for 3 days with little to no service and of course did not bring my laptop! going ahead and posting ch.20 [preview below] and will finish working through some edits/rewrites to get some more posted this week! thank you to everyone still reading!

Begged & Borrowed Time is a Gale Dekarios X OC fanfic on AO3! Currently 20 published chapters [ongoing], a WC of 64,475.

ch.20 preview wc: 734 !

*SPOILERS FOR ACT 2*

Gale’s attention is already on the disoriented mind-flayer, barely uttering a word before a circle of phantom blades surrounds the creature. Blood seeps out from hundreds of stab wounds along its iridescent skin, and the thing goes down screaming. Gale’s hardened face looks across the way at me through the cloud of phantom daggers. 

Not now. Not at this moment when Ketheric is landing blows on Lae’zel and Aylin. Not when we’re this close – his words can wait. He can wait. 

I turn in time to see Ketheric kick hard at Lae’zel’s chest, sending her to the ground below the dais. Though she doesn’t stay down for long, she heaves for breath as she picks up her sword, readying to climb up the dais once more to strike. 

“This ends now!” Aylin screams, striking Ketheric across the jaw and sending the man to his hands and knees. I look around us. His summoned allies are nothing more than dust. His armor is cracked, his face a near bloody pulp, several wounds spilling over with blood. I climb to the top of the platform, unsheathing my sword as I breach the top. I make my way over, soaking this moment in. He is defeated. 

“What a fool you are!” Ketheric spits out, blood leaching from the corner of his mouth. “You have no idea what you’ve done. You… you cannot kill me – I am eternal!” He crawls towards the edge of the dais, which is open into a cloudy, sickly green pit I hadn’t noticed before. He kneels before the edge, throwing his arms out in desperate prayer. “Myrkul!” Ketheric cries. “Lord of Bones – I am here. I am ready!” He takes in a deep breath, but nothing happens. Ketheric glances behind us. “No…” He mutters, looking up, then back down into the murky pit below. “No! This cannot be! Death cannot take me – I am its master!” 

Ketheric looks around again, desperate, but I’m already there. I drive my sword into the center of his back, as hard and deep as I can with my shaking hands. 

“Goodbye, Ketheric,” I whisper, yanking my sword from his back. He lets out a choked gasp, as if he’d thought to scream, but the breath had left him. The force of removing my sword causes him to fall backwards at my feet. 

I’m heaving for breath. This is it. We’ve killed Ketheric Thorm, the unkillable. We have beat the odds. We have an elder brain to deal with, but we have one less agent of the Absolute, and none of us had to die. I look down at Ketheric once more with a pitying glance, then begin to shift my weight to face my companions, my rage still burning white hot. 

“Ketheric is d–” 

“You dare end one who belongs to me?” 

I freeze. The voice is everything and everywhere, nothing and nowhere, all at once. 

“I am the smile of the worm-cleansed skull. I am the regrets of those who remain, and the restlessness of those who are gone.” 

The sound sends a chill through my body, but the air becomes hot and thick. A sickening stench fills the space around me. I’m only a quarter of the way turned from the center of the pit, but I can feel something dark stirring in its murky depths. 

“I am the haunt of mausoleums, the god of graves and age – of dust and dusk.” 

I lock eyes with Aylin, who looks as shocked as I am. Her sudden onset of fear doesn’t inspire much confidence within me. 

We both turn to face the open center of the dais fully, the creaking of bones echoing throughout the cavern. I take a step back as a bony hand appears from the clouds. I blanch at its size – at least three-quarters of my height. I stumble backwards. 

“I am Myrkul,” the voice resounds. “Lord of Bones. And you have slain my chosen.” 

“Wynn,” Shadowheart says from below, her voice tense with nerves. “Wynn, get back–” 

“But it is no matter,” the deep, chilling voice continues. I’m paralyzed as a colossal skeletal form rises from the center of the pit, my mouth and throat going dry as sand. My eyes feel as if they’ll pop right out from my skull. “For I am Death. And I am not the end – I am a beginning.” 

[slverblood]

I think this unnamed bhaalspawn I'm chewing on told Aylin their situation. Like they'd known each for a while at that point, fought beside each other, trusted each other, were very close friends, and had the sort of relationship where Aylin confided in them about some of her own struggles. Basically reached a level of trust where they chose to tell Aylin about their situation, hoping she of all people would be able to have some sympathy and understanding. But, Aylin reacted BADLY, and I am already heartbroken over this character I made a few hours ago.