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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Wen Ruohan/Wei Wuxian?🍉

Forked Path - ao3

“You did me a favor, and I intend to repay that,” Wen Ruohan said, adjusting one of his gauntlets in irritation – more at the fact that he was sinking back into that old nervous tic, a tell that he’d thought he’d eliminated years ago than at the actual request, ridiculous as it was. “But to confirm, you’re certain that this is what you want? It’s not in my nature to stop midway, so if you have any hesitations, exercise them now or not at all.”

The two rogue cultivators looked at each other and after a few moments of clear silent communication and struggle, they looked back at him and nodded. The man did so reluctantly - Wen Ruohan looked at his wife, the immortal mountain’s disciple, and her nod was far more firm.

“Very well,” he said, lips twisting in distaste. He hated owing people favors, especially when they rejected his preferred counter-offer to graciously allow them to work for his sect, but he wasn’t yet so ungracious that he wouldn’t live up to something he had to do. “We are therefore agreed: in the event both of you die prematurely, I will take your son into my sect to be raised therein, rather than allow him to be raised alone outside or in the Jiang sect."

He paused, frowning. "To be clear, however, I am not going to raise him myself! He’ll be brought up among one of the branch families.”

Dafan Wen had some kids around the same age, didn’t they? That was pretty out of the way. With luck, he could avoid having to see the brat at all…and that was all assuming that these two died, of course. Still, based on their level of certainty and the association of the immortal mountain with divination, Wen Ruohan was going to assume a worst-case scenario was likely to occur.

“That’s fine,” the man said, his voice oddly sarcastic. “We don’t expect you to do more for us than you do for your own children.”

That pricked at Wen Ruohan’s pride, since he didn’t have a conscience to be affected.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked with a frown. He had two sons of his own, and they were being raised perfectly well by his wives, as far as he knew. It wasn’t really his concern until they were old enough to actually start getting started in cultivation, swordsmanship, or even the scholarly arts, at which point he would naturally take over their education with the assistance of many able tutors – he was far too busy to waste time with them, squalling brats that they undoubtedly were, until then.

“Nothing,” the woman said, and she looked amused – he almost suspected she was amused at his expense. “After all, with hard work, even the sharpest sword can be ground down into a needle.”

That wasn’t how that idiom went at all, but Wen Ruohan was too lazy to correct her.

Later, though, after they’d left, her words kept pricking at him in the same matter as idiomatic needle – it occurred to him that he didn’t much like his wives, even though the connections they’d brought to his sect were exceedingly beneficial. It was said that where there was a father, there was a son, the two invariably resembling each other, and he’d assumed that that would be the case here…but on the other hand, if he left all the initial raising of his sons to those wives he didn’t like, wasn’t he risking them raising the children to be just like theminstead of him? Grinding down his sons’ edges, so to speak?

That would be utterly unacceptable.

He was so busy, though. Beyond his own cultivation, his sect now controlled over a third of the cultivation world, and he was ambitious to raise that to half, and then perhaps even further. How could he waste time on something as pointless as taking care of small children?

On the other hand, he supposed that in the long run he’d actually be saving time if he at least made sure they were raised up right. After all, he’d always assumed that his two sons would be his right and left hands, his able aides capable of enacting his will, and obviously it would be a disaster to find out later on that they’d been spoiled rotten or rendered stupid....

No, he was sure his arrangement was fine. How much damage could his wives do in just a few years?

…perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad an idea to check in on them.

Just to make sure.

He definitely wasn’t going to raise that stupid Wei boy, though. Favors had limits!

“Your accomplishments do you credit,” Wen Ruohan said to Wen Qing, and even meant it the way he didn’t mean most of the things he was forced to say at these stupid discussion conferences.

After all, Wen Qing was of his bloodline, if distantly – Dafan Wen was a branch family – but at any rate, they shared a surname, and it was sheer pleasure watching her put all those other ‘promising’ young masters in their place. Anything that added a sheen of glory to his sect was a good thing.

She saluted deeply, trying to hide the way she was beaming, and Wen Ruohan wondered once again if it was time to bring her back to the Nightless City as his ward instead of leaving her out in the wilderness with the rest of Dafan Wen. To get the sort of medical skills she had at her age showed promise and talent, and he needed people of promise and talent, especially ones with his surname, if he were going to make good on his intention to conquer the cultivation world.

He would’ve brought her back years ago, in fact, except that Sect Leader Nie said that children were fidgety, flighty creatures that were bad at dealing with change and that he’d be better off sending medical texts and tutors to Dafan Wen rather than bring Wen Qing back to the Nightless City over her father’s protests. Normally, Wen Ruohan would have disregarded advice he didn’t like and proceed with his own intentions regardless, but Sect Leader Nie had been helping him deal with his own sons ever since he’d reclaimed them from his wives, who he’d discovered had been ruining them, and it seemed unwise to dispute with him regarding matters of child-rearing at that point. After all, if he wanted Wen Xu to end up as even half the son that it looked like that Nie Mingjue was going to be, he needed the man’s expertise, and that meant making compromises, irritating as it was.

Compromises like not just killing Wen Qing’s father for refusing to hand over his children, despite it being easier to accomplish. Or not killing Sect Leader Nie himself, no matter how irritating the man was, because now his sons loved that old bastard.

(Wen Ruohan had spitefully decided to get back at Sect Leader Nie by spoiling his youngest son, who seemed at first glance to be more like the lazy scholarly type, beyond belief. It seemed to be working very well so far, including in causing Sect Leader Nie no end of frustration at his extremely clever-when-it-came-to-evading-work second son; Wen Ruohan, satisfied, viewed this result as being wholly due to his own efforts.)

“How did you find that talisman you mentioned in your last paper?” he asked Wen Qing lazily. “I hadn’t seen it before. Was it in one of the books I sent, or somewhere else?”

In truth, that had been the most interesting aspect of the presentation from his perspective – he didn’t have either talent or interest in medical cultivation, but he could recognize firepower when he saw it. Just because the talisman worked on disrupting things at a very small level for medical reasons didn’t mean it couldn’t be repurposed for larger things…

“Oh, no, Wei Wuxian invented it,” Wen Qing said. “He used it to blow stuff up until I convinced him to make a smaller version for me.”

“Wei Wuxian?” Wen Ruohan asked, frowning, and then recalled – ah, yes, the Wei boy. His parents had died some five or eight years back, if he recalled correctly, and he’d had to go fetch him pursuant to that old agreement; it had been extremely annoying at the time. He’d been in the middle of a very nasty argument with Sect Leader Nie at the time, the one that had led him to think his most serious thoughts to date of eliminating the man entirely, and then, just as he’d been on the cusp of making a decision, he’d received word of the deaths of Cangse Sanren and her husband Wei Changze.

Naturally, he needed to find and recover their son as he’d promised long ago, which given how unreliable reports of the location of rogue cultivators was naturally became a colossal waste of time, but on the bright side it had at least given him a chance to vent his spleen and get out some of his rage on something other than wringing Sect Leader Nie’s neck. It turned out that Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze had died in some obscure night hunt in Yiling, but figuring that out had all but taken a full-scale canvass of six different territories – and then Sect Leader Jiang, who hadn’t bothered to do anything near the same level of search and had opted to search the various towns individually on his own, as if that would ever work, had tried to leapfrog off the back of his hard work, thinking he could just thank him and take the boy away just like that.

Wen Ruohan had refused, of course – he had the parents’ personal request, and that outweighed Wei Changze having been a former servant of the Jiang sect or Cangse Sanren being possibly a former lover of their sect leader – and it had turned into something of a political mess for a while.

That had been where he’d gotten most of the venting out, actually.

Sect Leader Nie had sided with him in that fight, though, rather viciously, and by the end of it all Wen Ruohan was reminded of why exactly it was that the man was a useful ally to have around. He’d also forgotten what exactly they’d been fighting about, but he wasn’t going to admit that, so he just magnanimously forgave him. It had all turned out rather all right, and Wen Ruohan had put the boy out of his mind shortly thereafter.

Why would he come up now, all of a sudden?

No, wait, he’d sent him to Dafan Wen, just as he’d planned. And of course Wen Qing was from the main branch of Dafan Wen as well – she would’ve been raised with Wei Wuxian as a little brother.

“How is he doing?” he asked, more out of etiquette than actual interest, but Wen Qing lit up and started talking about how her little shidi was a verifiable genius, and so good with her actual younger brother, and whatnot. Wen Ruohan nodded, pretending he was listening, and cast his eyes around the rest of the discussion conference, looking for a distraction – there was Sect Leader Nie, who was generally good for a laugh, but he was scolding that second son of his for failing one of Lan Qiren’s classes and having to be sent a second time over. Jiang Fengmian was comforting him, telling him that he was sending his son as well this year, and of course Jin Guangshan’s heir was of age as well, and would undoubtedly be going, too…

Hmm.

“If he’s such a genius, he should interact more with his peers,” Wen Ruohan announced. “I’ll recommend him – and that brother of yours, I suppose – for the lecture series at the Cloud Recesses this summer.”

It wouldn’t do to be left, after all.

“You…you will? Really? That’s wonderful! Thank you for the opportunity, Sect Leader Wen! They’ll treasure it! How can we ever repay your kindness –”

“As long as they impress me with their talents,” Wen Ruohan said, already imagining Jiang Fengmian’s constipated expression at seeing his lover’s son that was stolen from his grasp wearing Wen sect colors and, in an ideal world, smearing his own son into the ground with his superlative skill. “That will be repayment enough.”

“You need to get laid,” Sect Leader Nie said, and Wen Ruohan was reminded again of why he despised the man and should have killed him years ago. Why hadn’t he done that again? “As a matter of cultivation.”

“You’re joking,” Wen Ruohan said, putting down his bowl of wine and staring at him in disbelief. He hadn’t expected the man to actually be serious. It was rare enough an event, but in fairness to him, he never joked about matters of cultivation. “How does one help the other?”

“It’ll help balance you out.” Sect Leader Nie thought about it. “Or at least let you get out some of that nervous energy that makes you a paranoid megalomaniacal little bitch about eighty percent of the time.”

That sounded a bit more in character.

“If dual cultivation could fix personality problems, Lao Nie, you’d be immortal.”

“Who says I’m not?” Sect Leader Nie asked, teeth bared in a smile. “Only time will tell. Haven’t I already outlived my father?”

Wen Ruohan rolled his eyes. Sect Leader Nie had outlived his father because when he’d started in on a qi deviation like every other member of his blasted family, he, Wen Ruohan, had personally dived into the irritating bastard’s spiritual consciousness and dragged him back out again. It was very much not something that people were supposed to do, being more likely to cause qi deviations in the person doing the rescuing than resulting in an actual rescue, but he’d never cared what people were supposed to do and, really, it would be extremely annoying to have to do without him now that he’d invested all that time and effort and figured out how to get some real use out of him. Anyway, they both seemed to be fine and possibly they were also soul-bonded now - he wasn’t actually sure, Wen Qing always got a weird expression on her face whenever she talked about it, and he usually stopped listening at that point.

He didn’t really care. As long as it didn’t interfere with his plans, what did it mtter?

“Who exactly am I supposed to be dual cultivating with, exactly?” he asked dryly, deciding to address the matter head-on because that was the only way Sect Leader Nie understood things. “Don’t volunteer yourself again. I already told you that I refuse to indulge your ridiculous kink for dangerous people.”

Anymore, anyway.

Sect Leader Nie made a face at him, but Wen Ruohan ignored him. He might’ve fallen for that before the whole spiritual consciousness-soulbond business, but now he knew for sure that it was a kink, so – no.

Nothappening.

“You have a kink for things that increase your power, I don’t know why you’re being so judgy about my kink,” the other man grumbled. “And I don’t know, find someone – not another wife, you hate your wives, and anyway they’re much happier with their other lovers.”

“I didn’t pick them because I liked them,” Wen Ruohan pointed out. “I picked them because I wanted to absorb their sects and all the aligned sects associated with them. Which I did.”

“See, this is your problem! You married for power, rather than power, if you get my meaning –”

This was true. If any of his wives could cultivate worth a damn, maybe he’d care more about them. As it was, getting a son on each of them had been an exercise in willpower.

“ – and now you’re too busy pursuing power to fuck anyone else. You really need to get it out of your system. Find someone who can kill you.”

“No one can kill me,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m the closest thing the cultivation world has to a god. Everyone should bow down and worship me.”

Sect Leader Nie started muttering something about megalomania again, but Wen Ruohan ignored him. It wasn’t a qi deviation talking if it was true.

“I bet we could find someone who could kill you if we tried,” Sect Leader Nie finally said. “And if they’re powerful enough to kill you, they’re probably powerful enough for the dual cultivation to improve your own cultivation, which is all you care about…we should start a war, maybe.”

“A war? Against who? And why?”

Sect Leader Nie frowned thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “The Jin sect?” he suggested, probably because he’d never liked Jin Guangshan. “Or the Jiang sect? Or both, I guess, since they’re allied. They’re next on your take-over list, aren’t they?”

“You’re next on my take-over list,” Wen Ruohan said threateningly, except Sect Leader Nie only laughed at him. Which was fair, he supposed, that whole soul-bond thing made the whole conquering business somewhat unnecessary – Qishan Wen and Qinghe Nie were bound together now as thoroughly as if he’d married the man.

Which he hadn’t. And wouldn’t. No matter what stupid snarky comments Sect Leader Nie said about Wen Ruohan treating him as a de facto consort on account of not having devouring his sect whole.

(Which he wasn’t going to do either - his sons still loved the man, and by now they were as thick as thieves with the Nie boys. What was he supposed to do, disappoint them? It’d be the same as disappointing himself, and he wasn’t about to do that.)

“I suppose we could start a war against the Jin and Jiang,” he allowed. His plan had always called for battle eventually, since he knew there was a limit to how many sects he could absorb through political, marital, economic or other means. As long as the other Great Sects stood against him, he’d never be able to achieve total domination – plus, he’d have to continue to suffer through those awful discussion conferences with the boring lectures and the petty politics of it all. Why couldn’t they see that they’d allbe better off under his dominion? “I could send Wen Zhuliu –“

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how you fight wars honorably, and also because I hate that man’s guts. I can’t believe you gave him your surname.”

Wen Ruohan rolled his eyes yet again. Such petty concerns were beneath him. “If we launch a surprise attack using him assassinate the Jiang sect leaders, thereby bringing down the Lotus Pier, the war will be over sooner,” he pointed out.

“Makes it harder to assimilate them into the Wen sect afterwards, though,” Sect Leader Nie pointed out, and damnit, he had a point. “Not to mention you’re going to want some experienced people policing your waterways when you finally take over…”

Damnit.

“Fine,” Wen Ruohan said. “We’ll declare war the old-fashioned way. Maybe we’ll find someone on the opposite side that can impress me, and then I’ll marry her – or him – and be done with the whole business. Happy now?”

Sect Leader Nie made a maybe-so gesture with his hand. “Anyone who can match you in power can probably kill me,” he said regretfully. “Would you consider sharing –“

“Paws off my hypothetical future consort, you beast. Anyway, aren’t you already pursuing Lan Qiren because he nearly slit your throat with a guqin string once?”

“A man can look!”

“Say,” Sect Leader Nie said, staring at the army of fierce corpses currently shambling along to the tune of Wei Wuxian’s flute, advancing inexorably towards their enemies – an entirely new cultivation style that the boy had recently invented. In an effort to impress his benefactor Wen Ruohan, apparently. “Are you sure about the no sharing rule?”

Wen Ruohan stared at the grown man perched on a tree like a demon, wrapped in shadow and crackling with power, eyes glowing as red as the sun-patterns on his clothing, who seemed to want nothing more from the world than to serve it up to Wen Ruohan on a platter.

“Yes,” he said, voice only a little strangled. Maybe Sect Leader Nie had a point about power being a kink for him. “I’m very sure.”

#mdzs #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #wei wuxian is sir not appearing in this fic #my fic #my fics #forked path

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kendrixtermina · 3 years ago

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Uncomplicating Tritype: Synergy vs. Conflict

I would actually not echo the common advice of "nail your core type first" because ppl often mistype within their tritype, & often when you have it its easy to find the core by triads or the dominant center speech patterns thing.

However, for tritype to bring illumination rather than confusion, it bears to keep a principle in mind:

Tritype is about Synergy, not Inner Conflict

What does this mean?

Look at the types in someones tritype as like a venn diagram of possible traits. A person of that tritype will have those overlapping traits in the center of the diagram. That which all the types in the trifix have in common.

You can also look at it as a modifier that describes where you are in the "range" of your core type.

Say youre a 7.

Slap a 2 fix on it, and the sociability & optimism of the 7 get enhanced, since those are traits that 2 and 7 share. Give them a 3 fix and they will be even more industrious, energetic 6 even better smooth-talkers than the average 7. Slap a 4 on it & it will enhance the artistic and intellectual side of 7 but also make them yet more prone to dissatisfaction & frustration.

Hence why some tritypes can have a wholly different vibe despite being just 1 number away, because the overlap is different.

So what's that bit about inner conflict?

There's that common scenario of a person being like "I probably have 8 and 4 in my tritype" because they feel a polarity or conflict between wanting to be strong but also identifying with the underdog... otherwise known as "being a 6".

But you also see the odd 9 explaining various facets of themselves this way, which they'r predisposed to see as facets because, well, theyre 9s. its that whole fragmentation thing.

But knowing this trap helps you evade it with the aid of this simple rule:

Assume that any big inner conflict you experience (especially if its one of the main things often causes you grief) would be part of your core type & hence an important hint about what it may be.

Attachment Types in particular (9,6,3) inherently experience some conflict between fitting ppl's expectations & being their true selves. Some comply most of the time, some try to defy or resist the expectations, most are somewhere in between depending on the situation - rebel 6 vs compliant 6, stubborn 9 vs yielding 9, the tough competitive 3 vs the approval-seeking side.

It came up in a discussion with @its-an-inxp-again and @jerdle-typology how we generally think of the "counter 3" as the default & overlook the gloomier 9s. Looking at 3 as only 'oily salesman' or 'ellbow mentality' is kind of like looking at cp 6 as only the aggression without looking at the underlying fear, doubt or questioning.

I would add that tough-acting in 3s can be compensation for being seen as flawed or a loser in early life (Tom Cordon's materials describe compensation in 3s pretty well - & a bunch of those then mistype as 4s because they feel 'flawed', but they're overcompensating for it agressively rather than pointing to it as a reason for why they dont have to do their homework.)

Asuka from Evangelion is a good example of a "counter 3" where the compensatory nature of it is actually adressed. She's introduced as very competitive, viciously aggressive to her co pilots & putting up this big front of not caring about anyone's opinion but her own. At first she looks like a shallow self-obsessed bitch who is just mean to the other main characters. But then, bam! big reveal! The whole time she was secretly desperate for ppls attention & love and she is only acting so proud as a compensation for her terrible family situation & actually pretty low self esteem. She only hates her 9 colleague/roommate whom she views as meek and servile because shes rejecting the part of herself that wants others approval very much. (& then her final monologue in the last rebuild movie went like - "Give me somewhere to belong! I just wanted a pat on the head" & ends with her being told that shes enough just being herself)

But if you look at many content creators that are 3s there's many that are quite recognizeable as heart types & wanting your approval & just wanting to hear that ppl are proud of them. They don't come off like oily salesmen at all but rather like overeager golden retrievers. (Ferdinand from 3 houses is a good fictional example. Or heck, Naruto of the eponymous anime)

MBTI feelers in general tend to be the less "onion layered" versions of their enneagram types, whatever the type is. Maybe because they are more talented in & have more conscious control over processing feelings so they need less psychic shielding - or because it is harder for them to keep up & maintain it. Though given a tragic enough backstory you can get some very oniony feelers, and sincere thinkers are hardly nonexistent.

But pretty much any type is complex enough to have its own particular dilemmas.

Tl;dr: Any big inner conflict you feel is very likely to be a product of your core type. Tritype is less a conflict between the patterns but rather the overlap between them.

also, hug a 3 today

#enneagram #mbti #typology

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honourablejester · 3 years ago

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Domain of Dread: Harrow’s Rock

A homebrew Domain of Dread, because I’m in raptures about Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft. I. LOVE. HORROR. FANTASY. Ah. You may have noticed. I went for a more classic New-Englandy, Lovecraftian sort of nautical/cosmic horror, because the two suggested cosmic horror domains lacked a little something for me. LONG POST, to warn you. I got carried away. So:

Domain of Dread: Harrow’s Rock

Domain of Salt and Sleeping

Overview:

Darklord - Aloysius Carroway

Genre – nautical horror, ghost stories, gothic horror, cosmic horror

Hallmarks – maritime ghost stories, cycles of vengeance, eldritch dreamers

Mist Talismans – glass floats full of strange mist, tarnished bronze discs, strange whispering shells

Rage, bitterness and despair endlessly ebb and flow like a wine-dark tide against the salt-stained, hard-bitten coastline of Harrow’s Rock. Ghosts sail the frigid waters around this small, dismal island, and haunt the crumbling manors on its cliffs. Bobbling marsh-lights lure unwary fishers, travellers and smugglers into the depths of Loney Marsh. In the grim hamlet of Harrow Cove, ancient grudges mire the native islanders in endless feuds that not even death can finish. Island legend tells of an ancient, unknown entity that lies slumbering in a vast, flooded cavern beneath Harrow Cliff, its dreams washing out across the island from time to time, bringing fear and horror in their wake.

Harrow’s Rock is a battered island domain of ghosts, blood feuds and grudges, ruled over by a man whose vengeful determination to protect his family resulted in the sacrifice of an entire town, since resurrected by the Powers for his torment. Hope is in short supply here, and welcome even shorter.

Cove Characters – Characters from Harrow’s Rock tend to have a distinctly nautical bent, with few lives that have remained untouched by the waters in some way. They tend towards hardy, weather-beaten folk, stubborn and superstitious, with humans, half-orcs and dwarves being particularly common. Other, more otherworldly lineages (such as genasi, tieflings, and sorcerous lineages) are viewed with fear and superstition, but are more common than most Covefolk would like to admit. Naming conventions on Harrow’s Rock often follow old-fashioned/18th and 19th century British and North American patterns.

Noteworthy Features:

Those familiar with Harrow’s Rock know the following facts:

The four founding families of the island, the Carroways, Merricks, Redmarches and Whitmarshes, control everything of note on Harrow’s Rock.

Pretty much everything on the island or around it is haunted one way or another.

Loney Marsh, Lorn Point Lighthouse and Redmarch Manor are widely considered the most haunted locations on an extremely haunted isle.

The only true settlement on the island is the fishing port of Harrow Cove, where the ‘Harrow’ of Harrow’s Rock supposedly landed. Harrow’s Cove is notably grim and unwelcoming to outsiders, though it’s safer than some of the other areas on the island.

However haunted the land might be, the sea is even more so. It is not safe to sail the waters around Harrow’s Rock. Fisherfolk are the hardiest breed on a hardy island, and ghost pirates are the least of your worries out there.

Islanders do not talk about their dreams. Ever.

Settlements & Sites:

Harrow’s Rock is a grim, rocky island, roughly seven miles by seven miles, with large rocky cliffs to the east of the island and the low expanse of Loney Marsh to the west. Sunshine is rare on this windswept, dismal isle, with mists, rain and furious storms being far more common. The islanders tend to be insular, clannish and deeply suspicious of strangers, a suspicion only surpassed by their abiding and long-entrenched mistrust and hatred of each other.

Harrow’s Rock was known on maps for a good hundred or so years before it was first settled, associated with a person or entity known as ‘Harrow’, but it lay uninhabited until a ship commanded by four adventurers in search of a new home laid anchor there. Those four adventurers were Noah Carroway, Erasmus Merrick, Ervina Redmarch and Loney Whitmarsh, and their families became the four founding and controlling families of Harrow’s Rock.

Harrow Cove:

The port town of Harrow Cove lies nestled in a small bay beneath Harrow Cliff. Historically, the town was controlled fairly evenly between the Carroway and Merrick families. After the death of Ezekiel Carroway, Aloysius made a concerted effort to claim it wholly for his own family, and so it remains today. The town is the heart of Aloysius’ domain, and the Darklord himself still resides at his family’s ancient townhouse on the hill above the docks. Although he keeps largely to himself, having no interest in interacting with the townspeople he loathes, the town is wholly under his control. No one walks the streets and docks of Harrow Cove but that he is aware of it, and no ship enters the port without his permission. Life is grim in Harrow Cove, under the hateful, paranoid eyes of its master and once-destroyer.

Church of the Salt:

Near the docks in Harrow Cove, facing the sea, the stone bell-tower of the Church of the Salt rises above the surrounding buildings. The great double doors of this once proud church have been closed and viciously nailed shut, and while there is life within the walls, it gives a distinct air of a building under siege. The acolytes, priests and priestesses of the Salt know beyond doubt that the Darklord hates them with all his heart, more than anyone else in the town, and only an extremely precarious network of sewers, smugglers and ‘parishioners’ allow them to live and continue their ministry as much as they can. The Church of the Salt fully believe that Aloysius is tainted and empowered by the Dreamer beneath Harrow Cliff, and that as long as the Dreamer and its spawn, the demon child Ambrose, remain alive, no one can truly destroy the Darklord.

Redmarch Manor:

The ancestral home of the Redmarches, one of the founding families of the island, Redmarch Manor overlooks and controls what little arable land Harrow’s Rock can lay claim to. Secure in their control of pretty much all food on the island that doesn’t come from the sea, the scions of the Redmarch Clan are content to stay out of the machinations of the rest of the island. They have, after all, a myriad of their own problems. It takes a lot for anywhere on this island to be considered more haunted, but Redmarch Manor is certainly in the running, the apparent product of an unspecified family curse that may or may not involve the Dreamer. No Redmarch who grew up in its confines comes out entirely sane. The current heir, Rowena Redmarch, more than proves the point, being widely known as a drunk, a vicious fighter who would put Estelle Merrick to shame, and a woman haunted by her ancestors in ways that would also put Estelle Merrick to shame.

Loney Marsh:

Loney Marsh is roughly fourteen square miles of saltmarsh along the western edge of the island. Named for Loney Whitmarsh, the family matriarch who claimed the western half of the island at the founding (and largely wasn’t contested for it), and currently presided over by Eurydicia Marsh, Loney Marsh is known for smugglers, sinkholes, and being the source of roughly every ghost story on the island that doesn’t directly tie to Aloysius or the Dreamer. Of course, that being said, Loney Marsh is also the only place on the island that an enemy of Aloysius’ could conceivably hide, as not even the Darklord with all his powers can fully pierce the mists and morass of the marsh. There are several smugglers in Loney Marsh with ties to Harrow Cove, and perhaps to the Wrack of the Isle as well, and is one of the relatively few safe places to land boats outside of Harrow Cove. Loney Marsh is extremely difficult to navigate without a guide, and is home to any number of haunts and monsters.

Wrack of the Isle:

The Wrack of the Isle is a small islet about a mile and a half offshore on the northeastern side of Harrow’s Rock, wreathed in wooden docks, shacks and shanties, and festooned with the wind-tossed lights of storm lanterns. All the flotsam and jetsam of Harrow’s Rock winds up here, including exiles, outcasts, pirates both living and dead, and more or less the entire remnants of the Merrick family. The Wrack of the Isle is the private fiefdom of Estelle Merrick, so-called ‘Pirate Queen’ of the Wrack, and all who survive on the islet pay their dues to her. It is rumoured, though, that Estelle in her turn pays her dues to someone else. Her cousin, Elias Merrick, the fearsome ghost pirate of Harrow’s Rock and the scourge of all living who sail her seas.

Lorn Point Lighthouse:

High on the cliffs on the northeastern side of Harrow’s Rock, facing out across the waters towards the Wrack of the Isle, stands the ominous tower of Lorn Point Lighthouse, also known locally as Ghost Point Lighthouse. In the early days of Harrow’s Rock, when the Carroways and the Merricks were still on friendly terms, Eochbard Merrick built the lighthouse on Lorn Point to help guide shipping into Harrow Cove. When the Merricks were driven off the island, the lighthouse was abandoned and fell into ruin. Until the night the Mists claimed the island, when a ghostly green light abruptly started shining again from the top of the cliff. Nowadays, it’s widely known on the Rock that the light at Lorn Point does not guide living ships, but ghosts upon the waters instead, and travellers through the mists.

Harrow Cliff and The Dreamer’s Cavern:

Towering over Harrow Cove, dwarfing the town, is the great black face of Harrow Cliff. The highest point on the island, higher even than Lorn Point, the cliff glares balefully out to sea and coldly cradles the town below. The cliff is riddled with caves and carved passages, some by the sea, some by smugglers and townsfolk, and some by the powers know what. Before ever the island was swallowed by the Mists, rumours and legends about Harrow Cliff abounded. It is said that if you follow the passages deep enough, if something guides you through the right twists and turns, you will emerge eventually into the Dreamer’s Cavern. No one knows who or what the Dreamer is, if it might be the ‘Harrow’ for which the island is named, but very few want to find out.

Aloysius Carroway:

Aloysius Carroway was born, the elder of a set of twins, to one of the founding families of the Rock. He and his twin brother Ezekiel grew up in Harrow Cove, at a time when the Carroway and Merrick families were vying increasingly over control of the port, and bad blood had grown between them.

Not that Aloysius and Ezekiel particularly cared. They were focused on their own endeavours. Aloysius, his studies, and Ezekiel, the pride and adventure of the fishing fleets. Though Ezekiel in particular clashed with the Merrick heir, Elias Merrick, a grudging respect soon grew between them, and life was good. Aloysius took over his father’s position as harbourmaster, Ezekiel as captain of the fishing fleet, and between them the brothers earned the respect of Harrow Cove.

Then, one day, a terrible storm swept the seas around Harrow’s Rock, and Ezekiel’s ship was announced lost at sea, with everyone aboard. The Cove was shaken, but Aloysius was devastated. There was nothing in the world he loved more than his twin, and he refused to believe that Ezekiel was truly dead. He dreamed repeatedly that Ezekiel was alive and would return to him, and his adamance, particularly on the subject of dreams, began to make people around him nervous. Harrow’s Rock had long had legends of the Dreamer in the Cavern, you see, and dreams were never a safe subject on the island.

And then Ezekiel did come back to him. In the aftermath of a second terrible storm, nearly two years after the first, a man washed up on the rocky beach underneath Harrow Cliff … with a newborn baby wrapped in seaweed in his arms. It was Ezekiel, and he introduced the child adamantly as his own, as his son Ambrose. He would not say who (or what) the mother had been.

Aloysius was overjoyed. His brother, the other half of his soul, was returned to him, and he had brought a tiny addition to the family along with him, something Aloysius, being not romantically inclined, had never hoped to see without his brother’s help.

No one else on Harrow’s Rock was overjoyed, however. To anyone with even an ounce of superstition, and no one on the Rock would be content with an ounce, everything about Ezekiel’s return reeked of ill-omen. From Aloysius’ dreams, to Ezekiel washing up beneath the Dreamer’s cliff, to the child’s increasingly obvious otherness, it all stank of the Dreamer. Nor did it help that Ezekiel himself was changed, grown as quiet and reticent as his brother after his experience. Rumours and superstition ran rampant in Harrow Cove. Spearheaded, with growing alarm and anger, by Elias Merrick, who could not find the man he had grudgingly grown to respect in this new Ezekiel.

Aloysius would hear none of it. His brother was returned to him, and his nephew, though a little odd, including such details as being able to breathe just fine in the bath, was a cheerful, friendly baby. He would hear no word against them. Not from anyone, for any reason.

Dreams stirred across the island in the wake of Ezekiel’s return. Strange, salty visions, never the same between one person and the next. It could have been nothing more than superstition itself, excited dreams thrown up by paranoia and rumour. But sentiment stirred against the Carroways regardless, and neither Ezekiel nor Aloysius himself were any help.

And then, a year to the day from the moment Ezekiel Carroway had washed up on Harrow Beach, on the day he had claimed for his child’s first birthday, another storm lashed the Rock, fierce enough to dwarf anything the island had seen in a hundred years. And the growing fear and superstition on the island finally flashed to violence.

No one would admit afterwards to having been there when the mob, lead by Elias Merrick, smashed down the door of the Carroway townhouse, while Aloysius was still working in the port, and dragged Ezekiel Carroway out into the street. They searched for the child as well, young Ambrose, but couldn’t find him. Their bloodlust would have to be content with an oddly calm, placid Ezekiel.

And he was calm. Utterly serene. It was said he looked Elias Merrick in the eye, no trace of fear or of the man he had once been as he faced his former friend, and eyed the boathook in his hand with nothing but a small smile. He made no sound and offered no words of protest, even as they beat him almost to death. And no one was there, no one would admit to being there, but still the rumour went that his eyes had been wide open and his mouth still smiling when Elias shoved him angrily off the dock and back into the watery embrace of his ‘lover’.

Aloysius witnessed this. He had been working in the port. He couldn’t miss a mob marching down the Cove’s docks. It took six men, at least two of them Merricks, to hold him back from trying to leap to his brother’s defense. He was almost insane with desperation, with rage. He fought them like a madman, but nothing he did could get him close enough. Ezekiel slipped away.

And when it was done, when his brother had been taken from him, Elias Merrick looked him in the eyes. Elias told him, with the barest hint of remorse, that he ‘did what had to be done’. To protect the island from whatever unnatural force Ezekiel had brought back with him.

There had been no one in the world that Aloysius loved more than his brother. Not a single soul.

He went back to the townhouse. In the midst of his grief and his fury, he found his nephew, Ambrose. His brother’s infant son. Alive, gloriously alive, and hidden in a water tank. Breathing away quite happily to himself, in the gentle quiet underwater. He’d slept through his father’s death. Aloysius, still lost in the serene white seas of rage, could only be glad of that. He retrieved the child. Swore on his brother’s name that he would protect him with his life from that day forth.

And swore, too, that he would not rest a single day of that life until he had driven Elias, the Merricks, and anyone else who might ever be a threat to his family, off the island.

It took almost twenty years. It took every trick and trade, every scrap of fortune and alliance, old and new, that Aloysius possessed. But he drove the Merrick fleet into the ground. Broke their finances. Took Harrow Cove, inch by inch, house by house, back for the Carroways. He took control of vital trade and supplies. Starved the lighthouse at Lorn Point. Drove the family to beggardom or to the sea. Fortune was incidental. The prosperity of Harrow’s Rock as a whole was beside the point. Everything he did from that day forth was to bring Elias Merrick to his knees.

And he succeeded. Beggared and battered further and further back, the Merricks left the island and went to their boats. Went to the sea. And the sea remembered Ezekiel too. Something in it. Whether it was a curse or something else, no Merrick ship could prosper around Harrow’s Rock. Many of them sank. One of them … was Elias’.

Perhaps that on its own would have been enough to draw the attentions of the Powers in the Mists. That single-minded devotion to slow, starvatious vengeance. But grudges were a way of life on Harrow’s Rock, blood feuds as common as bloodlines. One man slowly driving a family into the sea was nothing all that special on the Rock.

But Aloysius loved his brother’s son as well. He loved his nephew. He had taken that oath to Ezekiel’s memory just as firmly to heart. And as Ambrose grew and grew, into a fine, gentle, and terribly shy young man, so the rumours around their family grew in step. Ezekiel had been given back to his lover, whatever monstrosity that might have been, but his son still walked the island, and his brother bent all his powers to protecting him. And Aloysius was different now. He had learned from that day on the dock. He had learned to pay attention. The older Ambrose got, the more desperately paranoid and aware of rumour Aloysius became.

And the dreams swept the island even still. More and more as the years went on. Paranoia. Superstition. The Dreamer in the Cave. Or maybe Ambrose or Aloysius himself. Some taint, of Ezekiel or of the Carroway bloodline itself. Aloysius’ dreams predated the storm, after all. Ezekiel had been his twin. Perhaps the taint had carried, the moment Ezekiel’s ship had first been lost.

Either way, it came to a head once again. The terror on the island, and the fervour of Aloysius’ promise to his brother in response. The Church of the Salt had sprung up, its adherents agitating against the taint of the Dreamer, and Aloysius could see it coming once again. The worst day of his life. The loss of his family and his soul all over again.

He wasn’t going to allow it. Before any man, woman or child on the island dared lay hands on his family again, Aloysius Carroway was going to stop them.

Even if he had to kill each and every one of them to manage it.

There were no dreams, the day a priest of the Salt stood on the docks and loudly denounced Ambrose Carroway as a demon from the deep to be destroyed. Everyone on the island remembered that afterwards. That the night before it all ended, no one dreamed. Of the sea, or of anything. A sleep as deep and dreamless as the dead.

The next day, Aloysius calmly locked his tearful, pleading nephew away. Somewhere safe, somewhere no one on the island would know to look for him. And then he walked back down into town. Down the docks to the Church of the Salt, where he stood patiently waiting until the priests and priestesses came out to meet him.

And when they did, he gave them one chance to repent their words and threats against his nephew. One chance, to stave off his wrath. If they did not, he promised quietly, he would do as Elias had done to his brother. He would return Harrow Cove to the sea. All of it. Every man, woman and child. If they did not leave the island and renounced their threats against his family, then in his brother’s name, for his nephew’s protection, he would sink this town into the sea.

They didn’t listen. Much as the Merricks, twenty years earlier.

That night, for the first time in more than a year, a light appeared at Lorn Point Lighthouse. A green, ghostly light, shining out across the waters. The bells of the Church of the Salt started ringing, moved by no human hand. A thunderous crack echoed beneath the town. A hideous shudder and rumbling shook the island.

And the Mists rolled gently and inexorably across the Rock, as the town of Harrow Cove slumped forward into the sea.

Aloysius Carroway woke up in his townhouse. Exactly as it had been the day before. He stumbled out, dazed, into a Harrow Cove that looked exactly like the town he had just destroyed. Full of the townspeople he had just murdered, though they didn’t seem to remember him doing so. On an island exactly like Harrow’s Rock.

With just a few small differences ...

Aloysius’ Powers and Dominion

Aloysius has statistics similar to that of an Inquisitor of the Mind Fire, though his psionic abilities are either inborn or a potential influence of the Dreamer. His personal prowess pales in comparison to his control over his island and the influence of his dreams, however.

Paranoid Whispers: Aloysius’ awareness of his domain has been heightened by his paranoia. While his perception grows foggier the further from Harrow’s Cove it goes, and holds no dominion whatsoever over the sea and little over Loney Marsh, within Harrow Cove and most of the eastern side of the island, he is aware of all newcomers, and echoes of his dreams inform him of harmful intentions on the part of the islanders.

Wrathful Dreams: Whether consciously or not, Aloysius’ dreams now touch those of all who dwell in his domain. When he dreams of his brother, so do they. When he dreams of his hatred for them, so do they. And if his dreams visit harm upon them, that harm may manifest when they wake. Denizens of Harrow’s Rock do their best to avoid drawing the Darklord’s attention to them, lest he dream of them that night.

Closing the Borders: When Aloysius wishes to close the borders of Harrow’s Rock, great storms whip around the edges of his domain. Those who attempt to sail into those storms are affected as detailed in “The Mists” section in Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft.

Aloysius’ Torment

Since the stormswept night when Harrow’s Rock and every soul on it were transported to the Mists, Aloysius has been tormented by the following circumstances:

Since entering the Mists, Aloysius’ dreams of his murdered brother Ezekiel have grown stronger and stronger, tormenting him with the dual convictions that his brother might have survived that day, as he survived the shipwreck before it, and that his brother is furious at his failure to protect his son. Aloysius longs to reach out to and find his brother, but the seas are now controlled by his enemies, and there is no known way to enter the Dreamer’s Cavern, if that is where Ezekiel now resides.

When Aloysius awoke in the newly remade Harrow Cove, he immediately rushed to check on his nephew, but found the locks broken and his nephew nowhere to be seen. He has no idea if Ambrose escaped and hates him too much for his actions to seek him out, or if Ambrose was found and taken by his enemies. None have come forward claiming to have done so, but Aloysius lives in feverish terror that he has failed despite it all and allowed his nephew to be captured or killed.

Aloysius does not and cannot trust a single person on the island. He remembers destroying Harrow Cove and murdering everyone in the town, though he is unsure to what extent it truly happened, and he remains uncertain how many, if any, of the islanders remember that too. His fears whisper that all of them do. They may be right.

While the island and particularly the town of Harrow Cove are his, the waters off the island are a much different story. The seas around Harrow’s Rock are more haunted than they have ever been, and there is one ghost in particular that gladly torments Aloysius by his presence. Elias Merrick sails the seas around the island, and would love to welcome his old friend, should Aloysius ever attempt to leave the safety of the town and his island behind to search for his brother, his nephew, or for freedom. From the light at Lorn Point, Aloysius is convinced that Elias is trying to lure outsiders to Harrow’s Rock to destroy him, and again, he may not be wrong. But outsiders may also be the only people Aloysius could convince to seek the Dreamer’s Cave and Ezekiel.

Roleplaying Aloysius

Personality Trait: “Everyone is out to get me and mine, but not if I get them first.”

Ideal: “Nothing is more important than the protection and memory of those I love.”

Bond: “I will find and keep my family safe, by whatever means necessary.”

Flaw: “Nobody and nothing can be trusted except my family.”

Adventures in Harrow’s Rock:

Harrow’s Rock is the domain of ghost stories, cycles of vengeance, petty feuds, dreaming horrors, and oceanic terrors. It is hostile for reasons both human and otherworldly: the hatred and paranoia of a superstitious populace and a man who watched his family die and seeks to emphatically prevent any potential repeat, and the otherworldly influence of the sea, the caves, and the ‘Dreamer’, whatever the Dreamer may be. If the Dreamer is anything, and not just the frothing superstition of the islanders and the subconscious telepathic powers of some of the island’s bloodlines.

When visitors follow Lorn Point’s light through the mists, or wash up in Loney Marsh or on the rocky beach beneath Harrow Cliff, they are faced with a wild, rocky island inhabited by sullen, paranoid, mistrustful people who want to either get rid of them before they attract attention, or use them for their own ends while trying to hide their own sins in the process. Characters born on the island face nights full of foreign dreams, perhaps vague memories of a great disaster that something tells them they shouldn’t have survived, and the deep conviction that there is a dreaming force on the island that deeply loathes them.

If the characters arrived by ship, they may find that Aloysius has closed the borders and will not let them leave until they help him find Ezekiel, Ambrose, or the way to the Dreamer’s Cavern. Or until they help someone else, the Church of the Salt or the Merricks, to destroy him and end his control over the island and the borders. If they washed up unwillingly on the shore, they may seek out a ship in Harrow Cove, Loney Marsh, or among the pirates of the Wrack of the Isle in an effort to escape again, any of which may embroil them further in the machinations of the Carroways, the Merricks, the Whitmarshes, or the Church of the Salt. Perhaps they might wish to investigate the mystery of the Dreamer themselves, or help individual islanders to avoid Aloysius’ notice, destroy the Darklord, or deal with their own private feuds or hauntings. Or perhaps they might stumble across a shy, fearful genasi youth who is somehow immune to the Darklord’s dreams …

Harrow’s Rock Adventures

d8 Adventure

1 In order to be allowed to leave the domain again, a man in Harrow’s Cove named Aloysius Carroway wants the party to search Loney Marsh for his missing nephew, without broadcasting to all and sundry that the youth is missing at all.

2 Outside the Church of the Salt, a ragged figure implores the party to help her find out what has happened to a shipment of food and medicine destined for the beleaguered faithful inside the walls.

3 While sailing into Harrow’s Rock, following the ghostly light of a strange lighthouse that isn’t on any map or chart, the party’s ship was captured by a spectral vessel, whose ghostly captain demands that they find some way to lure or trap a man named Aloysius Carroway onto a vessel and out to sea to meet him.

4 Waking up bewildered and lost in Loney Marsh, the party are found by a shy young water genasi youth who will not tell them his name, and is adamant that they should leave the island immediately before his uncle realises that they’re there. At all costs, he reiterates desperately, they must avoid Harrow Cove.

5 Landing in Loney Marsh, the party are taken to meet Eurydicia Marsh, who says that of course she’ll help them off the island, if they’ll just do a few little things for her first. Make a few deliveries, to some faithful in Harrow Cove, or her dear friend Estelle on the Wrack of the Isle. A few things like that …

6 While the party attempt to buy supplies in Harrow Cove, the shopkeep’s terrified son rushes downstairs, saying that he dreamt that Mr. Carroway was very angry with him, though he didn’t know why. To the party’s surprise, the shopkeep takes this incredibly seriously, and immediately tells the son to write a letter of apology to Mr. Carroway and deliver it post haste. And to not be seen doing so.

7 Delivered by the mists to a rocky beach beneath a great cliff, the party find that the nearest town distinctly does not welcome them, calling them ‘Dreamer’s get’ and either avoiding them or blackly cursing them off the island.

8 The merchants of the town in Harrow Cove approach the party and ask them to venture further inland, to Redmarch Manor, which controls what little farmable land exists on the island. Deliveries of produce have been delayed lately, and they would be grateful if the party would find out why.

The Dreamer’s Cavern

One of the central mysteries of Harrow’s Rock, the legend of the Dreamer’s Cavern is bound up in the founding of the island, the influence and curses of the families who settled there, potentially the return of Aloysius’ brother at least once and perhaps twice, and perhaps also the origins of Aloysius’ dreaming abilities, if those were not wishful thinking once and an influence of the Dark Powers now.

Who or what the Dreamer might be, or even if there is a Dreamer at all, is something you can decide before running an adventure in Harrow’s Rock. If you choose to have the Dreamer exist and be an active influence on the island, you may wish to draw more heavily from cosmic horror influences as much as ghost stories or nautical elements. If you choose instead to have the Dreamer’s influence simply be a facet of the deeply superstitious nature of the islanders, you might draw more from gothic or psychological horror. If the party seeks an endgame for Harrow’s Rock involving the reveal of the Dreamer, you must decide what influence that will have on Aloysius, the inhabitants of the island, and the potential solution to the Darklord’s curse.

Use the table below to help decide what the Dreamer might be, or come up with your own ideas:

The Dreamer’s Nature:

d6 Nature

1 The Dreamer is an aboleth or a kraken seeking escape from a watery prison beneath the island, and attempting to manipulate visitors or islanders into seeking it out to accomplish this. Slaying it will have no effect on Aloysius or his curse.

2 The Dreamer is a star spawn emissary, the ‘Harrow’ which landed on the island so many centuries ago, and it seeks nothing more nor less than to untether everyone on the island from reality altogether, influencing their dreams, passions and perceptions to shatter their understanding of the world. Revealing its nature may cause Aloysius to question the nature of his actions and his ‘awakening’ in the Mists, but might exacerbate rather than help his curse by further damaging his senses of reality and responsibility for his own actions.

3 The Dreamer is a sleeping atropal, an unfinished, stillborn god, whose wordless, noisome dreams infect everything in its vicinity with hateful emotions. It has infected many of the oldest family bloodlines on the island with its influence, leading to odd powers and a propensity towards violence among them. Slaying it may help Aloysius regain some clarity regarding his willingness to slaughter a town to ‘save’ his nephew, or it may cause him to surrender to his ‘bloodline’ and double down on his actions.

4 The Dreamer does not and never did exist. Aloysius’ dreams were his own powers and attachment to his twin, and Ezekiel’s change of personality was simply trauma from the shipwreck and his imprisonment at the hands of Ambrose’s marid mother. Revealing this may drive Aloysius deeper into his sense of justified power and retribution, highlighting that his brother’s death really was for nothing more than superstition and only Aloysius’ own power stands between his nephew and the same fate. It may have the opposite effect on Elias Merrick.

5 The Dreamer didn’t exist before Harrow’s Rock was drawn into the Mists, but it does now, as a facet of Aloysius’ curse. It is an empty shell, a puppet of the Dark Powers, embodied in the form of Aloysius’ dead brother, Ezekiel. If Aloysius personally encounters this embodiment, he may become completely enthralled and controlled by this puppet, willing to do anything it asks to protect his ‘brother’.

6 The Dreamer is Ezekiel himself, watery and undead, bound to the Aloysius and the island after death by his unquiet death, his bond with his brother, and the oaths Aloysius took in Ezekiel’s name. His death, and the destruction wrought upon Harrow’s Rock as a result of it, echoes psychically back through time to the island’s founding, manifesting as the Dreamer’s dreams. Depending on whether this Ezekiel approves or is horrified by what his brother has done, it may influence Aloysius in either direction, towards further vengeance or redemption. Destroying this version of the Dreamer will have a very personal and dramatic effect on Aloysius.

Finding Aloysius’ Family

If characters wish to gain Aloysius’ aid and approval to leave Harrow’s Rock once more, he will almost certainly either ask or attempt to trick them into doing one or more of these three things:

Find Ambrose for him on the island, likely searching into Loney Marsh and other areas where his perception is limited.

Go to the Wrack of the Isle and seek evidence of whether Ezekiel has been seen in the waters off the island, or if the Merricks have captured, imprisoned or murdered Ambrose.

Find some way to enter the Cavern of the Dreamer in search of Ezekiel.

If the party successfully finds Ambrose and chooses to bring him to Aloysius, or finds reasonably satisfactory evidence that the Merricks at least have not seen or captured either Ezekiel or Ambrose, Aloysius will open the domain’s borders and give them a mist talisman that will grant them passage out of Harrow’s Rock. If the party chooses to seek entrance to the Dreamer’s Cavern instead, the end result of that will depend on what you have decided the nature of the Dreamer is, and what effect that will have on Aloysius.

Destroying Aloysius

If the party wishes to attempt to remove Aloysius instead, in order to leave the island or after learning more of who he is, there are several parties in Harrow’s Rock would like nothing more than to see Aloysius killed, no matter what effect that might have on the domain of Harrow’s Rock.

The Merrick family want nothing more than revenge on Aloysius for what he did to them. If the party can find some way to distract or blind Aloysius to their approach, Estelle Merrick would be more than happy to lead an invasion of Harrow Cove to cut the bastard’s head off herself. Her cousin, by contrast, the spectral Elias Merrick, would prefer if Aloysius would be tricked or bludgeoned onto a vessel and brought out to sea to meet him, that he might ‘return him to his brother’. Whether or not either of these plans would work is a matter for you to decide.

The Church of the Salt would also like Aloysius destroyed, but they firmly believe that the true evil on the island is the Dreamer, and that all of Aloysius’ powers and abilities stem from this creature. They believe that Ezekiel bore the creature’s infection to his brother, that his demon son sustained it, and that Aloysius cannot truly be killed nor the island freed unless some way is found to destroy the Dreamer’s tools, breach the Dreamer’s Cavern, and destroy the dark entity there. Their goals, therefore, surprisingly align with Aloysius’ at least in some part, in that they want the party to find Ambrose and to find some way into the Dreamer’s Cavern. The divergence lies in what they want the party to do with Ambrose and/or the Dreamer afterwards. To that end, they are perfectly happy for a party to also appear to be working for Aloysius towards those goals, as long as they are sure that the party’s final decision will turn their way.

The Townspeople of Harrow Cove, if they do remember, either partially or fully, what Aloysius once did, might be more than motivated to help destroy him also. However, they more than anyone exist under Aloysius’ direct thumb and are more at risk of drawing his dreams down upon them, so the party would have to find some way to ensure their safety and ensure that the destruction of Harrow Cove will not be repeated before the townspeople would be moved to overtly help.

If the party truly wishes to destroy, rather than attempt to redeem, Aloysius, then the main things they will need to find a way around are his psychic awareness of every stranger in the vicinity of Harrow Cove, his knowledge through his dreams of island natives with ill-intent against him, and the terror that most islanders have of acting against them when he can potentially kill, curse or grievously harm them in his dreams.

Inhabitants of the Island

Once the party has landed on Harrow’s Rock, there are several factors and factions that might complicate any mission they might have, from escape, to aiding or destroying Aloysius, to exploring any of the mysteries of the island. Harrow’s Rock is a domain of ghosts and nautical horrors, nightmares and blood feuds. Getting anywhere on this island will not be an easy task.

Eurydicia Marsh, in Loney Marsh, controls almost all of the hidden travel and smuggling on Harrow’s Rock. Any party hoping to avoid Aloysius’ notice, keep certain secrets from him, or get materials to other allies without his notice, will almost inevitably wind up seeking an audience with her. And Eurydicia is always happy to help, for a price. Nothing comes free, darlings. She is a scion of one of the four families herself, and she has ventures across the island, and echoes of old family pride, that she would like the party’s help with as well.

Rowena Redmarch, in Redmarch Manor, seems the most disconnected of the four family scions from any of the driving plots of Harrow Cove, but the fact remains that she controls all land-based food supply to everyone else on the island. If the haunting of Redmarch Manor, her family curse, or the influence of the Dreamer on her, affect the delivery of those supplies, she will rapidly become relevant once again, even to such powerhouses as Aloysius or Estelle Merrick.

Ambrose Carroway, Aloysius’ nephew, may be the one person on the island, if his father is truly dead and gone, who might have a hope of redeeming Aloysius, but that depends entirely on what has happened to Ambrose since Harrow’s Rock was swallowed by the mist. If Ambrose is still alive, he may be a captive of the Merricks, Eurydicia Marsh, the Church of the Salt, or the Dark Powers. He may have no memory of who he is or what happened to him. He may remember all too well, and want nothing to do with the man who locked him up for his own ‘protection’ and then walked off to slaughter a town. He may want to reach his uncle, but be aware that there are influences on the island, such as the Dreamer or the Dark Powers, who would make any successful intervention difficult at best. He may simply be too traumatised and afraid to know what he wants to do without a little help and guidance.

Ambrose’s mother, if she (/it/they) was not the Dreamer and if she has access to or was trapped within the mists, might also wish to intervene on the island, for either Ambrose or Ezekiel’s sake. Or she might firmly respect Aloysius for his response to Harrow Cove, and wish to support him. She may also have been the force which sank Elias Merrick’s ship and killed him, all those years ago.

Feuds and horrors. The inhabitants of Harrow’s Rock tend towards the sullen, the superstitious and the bloody-minded. The party might encounter any number of hauntings, ghost stories, petty feuds or bloody murders simply by nature of the environment on Harrow’s Rock and the kind of people that inhabit it. Undead and aquatic monsters are common on the island and around it, and if the Dreamer’s influence is more real than not, also psychic influences, aberrations and madness. Even those islanders who want to help or be helped might not show it readily, for fear of Aloysius, the Dreamer, or just an islander mistrust of outsiders.

#d&d #homebrew #van richten's guide to ravenloft #domains of dread #long post #cosmic horror #lovecraftian #maritime horror #ghosts #feuds #i had too much fun with this #and yes it is based on that dream I had one time

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somepinkthing · 4 years ago

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I feel like part of the reason edelgard is such a love/hate character is because of how it's hard for people to reconcile the edelgard we see in CF and the one we know from AM or VW. The notion is there has to be a side of her that's true and one that's a lie. Is she the imperialist war criminal or is she a young and hopeful visionary?

In her own route, she starts out young and driven. Then later, she's older and sadder and yet no less driven. Lonely and traumatized, she works to overcome all these obstacles and create a world she believes in before her time runs out. Edelgard wants to use her experience and power to build a better future, one where her story isn't repeated, even if it costs her everything... even if it costs her her own humanity. In CF, you get to see the person edelgard hides underneath the veneer of strength and brutality—someone with with doubts and fears. She's still calculating and doesn't let anything keep her from her goals, but it's undeniable that she also cares just as much as the others do. Slow to trust and even endearingly awkward, she doesn't seem like someone who could do all the things she's accused of. And yet...

In Azure Moon, she is the villainous warmonger, viciously and systematically attacking anyone she perceives as being in her way, even targetting a teenaged dimitri for what he might become one day. Standing at dimitri's side, you watch the ruthless flame emperor progress on her crusade and begin to wonder why, when she says sacrifice, does she seem to mean for others to make them for her? Her dreams and her actions drove the kingdom into civil war, drove the mentally ill dimitri to the brink, drove the continent into chaos. Her and her allies plagued the lions from the beginning to the end. She took mercedes's brother as her death knight. Her actions took ashe's father. She allied with the ones who killed dimitri's family. You watch as she turns people, herself included, into corrupted beasts. Though you begin to feel for her as the story continues, to the bitter end she remains unwilling (or unable) to stop and reconsider her war path.

In Verdant Wind, she's the mad conqueror. Even after the imperial army attacked the alliance's heirs at garreg mach, claude somehow managed to get them to declare neutrality and worked hard to maintain it... but it wasn't enough for edelgard that they simply stay out of her way. For five years imperial forces blatantly threaten the alliance's borders and incite coups. The message is clear enough: edelgard intends to unify fodlan and if the alliance will not subject themselves to the empire, she won't hesitate to use force. This, ironically, drags the alliance into a war for their own freedom. And along the way, we find out details like the empire's hand in faerghus, rhea's captivity, what happened to the nabateans, what edelgard actually stole from the holy tomb, and the true face of the evil shadow army she allied herself with without even getting the full history. In VW we get to see the reality and aftermath of edelgard's empire from a neutral view

In Silver Snow (which I don't know too much about) I imagine she represents the humans who massacred rhea's people. Rhea's is probably the one perspective I'd argue is based more in emotion than tangible fact but, to be fair, of course rhea's view would be that edelgard intends to take out the last of the nabateans and, well, she's not exactly wrong

So which edelgard is the real one?

Thing is? All of them are real in equal measure. To some degree, all of the leaders' characters will be based on what perspective you see them from and the choice of which route to play has a huge role in how you view dimitri, claude, rhea, and edelgard. But the impact of perspective hits edelgard and rhea harder than it does the other two because of the far-reaching consequences of their choices. These two women aren't simple players—they are the directors of this shitshow no matter what route you chose so it makes sense that their actions take on the most wildly different forms depending on the lens you see them from. And while idk enough about rhea yet to say, as far as edelgard goes, if you played her first it would be hard to see her in such a different light in the other routes. It'd be difficult to accept that perhaps, from a different point of view, this is edelgard. She never denies any of it either; in her own route, she openly acknowledges that she always knew her actions would mean war and, while she'd hoped to end opposition back at garreg mach, she isn't shy about her intentions to take the alliance, the kingdom, and the church in one go now. So it's not exactly that the facts clash, it's just shocking to see how differently her character looks depending on the route. It's easy to want to pick one side of her or the other, but it's all one person in the end. Edelgard's not meant to be good or even neccesarily right—none of the characters are meant to wholly encompass such broad concepts, but especially not rhea or edelgard. Edelgard's meant to be divisive. She's meant to do extreme things that you may not entirely agree with. She's meant to make you question whether she's got a point and, even if she does, is it worth all of the things you see once you switch sides? There's no concrete answer to who she is or what role she plays. Her character is facinating because she 100% is the young woman you know from CF, but she's also simultaneously all the things the others accuse her of being. Perspective, man

#edelgard #edelgard von hresvelg #rhea #claude von riegen #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #fe3h meta #fire emblem three houses #claude von riegan

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childotkw · 4 years ago

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so I read heir apparent because of your serpent in these still waters au and!!!! that was the most beautiful disaster duo I have ever seen!!! and now I cant stop thinking about how your story would go, tom just assuming this girl who hates him is his wife, and harry just being like ok this is what we're doing now I guess and her taking full advantage of the fact that tom won't hurt/kill her at least and!!! tom being jealous of his future self because harry keeps trying to go back so she must truly love him a LOT because a younger more handsome version is OBVIOUSLY a better choice and I'm sorry for ranting but I'm so excited!!!

100% what this AU is about, darling! I love it.

Harry, once she clues onto the fact that Tom won’t kill her (harm, maybe, if she pushes too far, but not kill) takes that leeway and runs with it. Tom is not prepared for the natural disaster that is Harriet Potter, nor the fact that he’s invited this natural disaster to live with him. But he’s undeniably charmed by her viciousness, and her tenacity and loyalty to her husband - not even willing to ‘cheat’ with a younger version of himself - is both delicious and infuriating.

Delicious because it proves that she is wholly and obviously dedicated to him, to the point of being obstinate, and that appeals to his possessive nature.

Infuriating because he has never taken well to owning something but being unable to claim it.

#anonymous #serpent in these still waters #Harry is doing mental gymnastics to make this idiot think they’re married #Tom would like to kiss his wife pls and thank you #Harry’s stories about their future relationship become increasingly tangled

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purgatoriorpg · 3 years ago

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AVARITIA. ⟡ CARINA EVANGELISTA. ⟡ 27, F.

IT’S ALMOST FAIRYTALE HOW YOUR EXQUISITE BEAUTY IS BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. You were beloved from the first moment you drew breath, and in the next, reviled. They say you took your mother’s beauty along with her life, and with it, all things soft and beautiful and bright. Your brothers and sisters never forgave you for it and they channelled their aimless grief into your daily misery. Exile to boarding school was your only safe haven—a place where girls and teachers alike orbited you like a solar system, enraptured by your delicate grace and charm. Being adored was so close to being wanted, being needed, and as you grew older, adoration billowed into love and worship. People would go to their knees for a scrap of attention from you; a flicker of flirtation would nearly stop their heart. In you, the world projected all their wildest fantasies and imagination. You were the it girl, the ingenue, the girl everyone wants to be or have or taste. It made you untouchable and it made you monstrous. For what else could you call a creature who eats constantly but is never full? A girl who is beloved by everyone but always starving for more, ravenous for every last sliver of affection and devotion?

DYNAMICS.

SUPERBIA ⟡ BEAUTY IS TERROR THAT WE ARE JUST ABLE TO BEAR.

From the moment you saw her, you knew there would only ever be her. The only one you hadn’t beguiled into loving you. She is singular and wholly exceptional because of it. Love is hunger, a never-ending devouring. You learned that best from her. Raised on pedestals by society, reaching from the peak of Olympus to grace the mortal world with your shared elegance and je ne sais quois. Sometimes you don’t know if she loves you as much as she hates that she loves you, because it means she can never destroy you. When you fight, it’s viciousness and animal savagery—mutually assured destruction. You love the same way, after all, with teeth and claws, armed with each other’s deepest, darkest secrets and confessions. The things you speak in the dark to each other that no one else knows.

LUXURIA. ⟡ WE FOUND EACH OTHER HUNGRY.

What began as meaningless flirtation and cavalier provocation sauntered easily into sincere friendship. You were so alike in your unabated wanting, the bottomless hunger that feasted upon you and still left you starving. Where you sated yourself on devotion and adoration, they turned to intimacy and carnality. In your youth, you competed with conquests and bedpost notches, entangling yourselves in trivial gambles and wagers. Many an Adonis and Pandora have fallen prey to your games, discarded like flotsam and collateral damage. They have been many things to you: challenger, enabler, confidante. With them, you feel less hollow, less a thing made out of inexorable longing. He sees the unloved thing curled inside your bones and kisses her cheek, her temple, the crown of her soul.

GULA. ⟡ IF WE ARE BOUND FOR HELL LET IT BE HELL.

The first time was a mistake. The second was a seduction—a pas de deux of danger and exhilaration. He was always hers. SUPERBIA & GULA, the gilded power couple destined for the throne, entwined by birthright and supremacy. But there he was, a velvet smile curving serpentine on his lips, handsome as sin. Not even the garden of Eden could have been worth risking everything, but you chose it anyway. You clashed in searing rage and volatile loathing at first—how dare he believe himself worthy? How could he betray her?–but fury swiftly descended into ravenous desire, a passion that could only be borne from blasphemy. Forbidden fruit. Unlike the rest, you had more than one reason to want him dead. When it came down to it, you loved your freedom more than you could ever love him. Ask any woman and she’ll tell you why Eve chose the world instead of you.

CLOSED : NPC. ⟡ FC: ZIÓN MORENO.

#avaritia.#c.#a.

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littlebabycrybtch · 4 years ago

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tbh... we have absolutely FAILED ppl with ea/ting disor.ders so fucking unimaginably bad, especially the visibly underweight ones. and we are still failing them to this day by avoiding valuable education out of discomfort and demonization. its genuinely appalling sometimes, to see just how Dangerously ignorant ppl are about this shit. bros listen 2 me rn. you are not a doctor, and you are Not going cure an ed with your almost laughably ignorant and malicious ‘reverse psychology’ bit where you call someone an ugly skeleton knocking on deaths door whos body needs to be banned from instagram forever, because you’re just ‘so scared theyre gonna die’ or w/e so you can legit pretend they dont exist, holy fucking Shit dude. that shame-and-shun tactic is so unbelievably dangerous. like, if you knew Anything REAL abt these disorders or frankly any mental health issues and cared enough to apply that then you would understand how thats just... pure cruelty. im sorry to be blunt but yeah this isnt a joke, it needs to be said that you are easily going to KILL SOMEONE with that kind of unfiltered uneducated IGNORANCE. it is inexcusably selfish, harmful, and ableist behavior, we have to stop this already.

imo there’s a Lot to be said about the toxicity spiral thats become the pro recovery movement and how much it rejects and speaks over the people its Supposed to support, becoming more about ‘anti symptoms’ than pro anything, but if you are gonna understand Anything new today at least learn this;;; hating yourself at unhealthy is Never ever going to be the key to loving yourself at healthy. being ashamed of yourself FOR being unhealthy, will NOT make you healthier, it’ll make you worse every time. im not tryna be mean but honestly how the actual FUCK do yalls brains work, it is SO wildly damaging to let yourself perpetuate this type of mindset, and then still claim pro recovery or w/e like recovery doesnt have to start at unhealthy??? like itll just happen overnight??? like that’ll help??? like if ppl catch you displaying symptoms of the disorder you LITERALLY HAVE, you arent allowed to talk abt it in any form without intense open negativity towards it and yourself, so ppl know ur definitely totally against it tho and not enabling urself, bc if you dont talk abt ur shame and embarrassment for it that means you arent recovering and need a mob after you??? thats how you think people are gonna get better????

ffs dont try to viciously shame yourself out of bad habits and treat your disorders like taboo, respect and love yourself wholly, the good and the bad, if you want to form better habits!!! ppl NEED to be encouraged to love themselves at unhealthy if they ever want to improve. you are not going to accidentally make them worse by not constantly shaming all their ‘flaws’, they are not MADE of ‘flaws’. by showing support for the mentally ill, you are not fucking supporting their ‘symptoms’, you are a supporting THE FUCKING PERSON EXPERIENCING THEM. and you DESPERATELY NEED TO DO THAT!! there is MORE TO THEM than their symptoms! there are things to COMPLIMENT them on besides their body! its gotten to this point that like. ppl are actually Afraid of just being nice to ppl with eds. they dont even wanna treat them like Humans outside of their disorder, all they see is a disorder. everyone is just SO afraid of ‘enabling’ them by not being vocally against their symptoms that they avoid them like the plague and dont even try to build them up, which is what they fucking need more than anything dude!!

ppl think refusing to ever let an underweight person feel pretty or love their body where they are at is what they need and will force them to recover, or they think giving them goals like ‘you’ll be so much happier with a bigger body’ and ‘keep going one day you wont look so sick’ is at all different than their own internal dialogue, when the Truth (that people need to fucking know by now!), is that shame with mental health is incredibly dangerous, eds are diverse but theyre most often rooted in starvation as a form of self harm from an unwavering self hatred and feeling of failure or lack of control, one they already have deeply ingrained and will usually feel at Any Size, which is why so many feel unsatisfied and keep going and going till they die. the answer to this problem isnt gonna be inflicting more fucking self hate or pressure. thats gasoline on a fire. you cannot just try and. UNO REVERSE CARD THE ~RULES~ OF THEIR FUCKING MENTAL DISORDER and expect RECOVERY... oh my god dude, please, id laugh out loud if this wasnt so malicious.

listen, if you wanna help, like actually Care about Helping the way you claim the root of your attitude is, you need to make that person feel like they can love themselves, not try to make them ‘realize’ how ‘bad’ they are and how uncomfortable and scared they make you and how Not Allowed their behavior is, bc 1. body dysmorphia is a delusion,,, denial is a common association with addictive/self destructive behaviors,,,, you are going about it wrong if thats the first thing you try to accomplish, and 2. whether you like it or not ‘bad’ is gonna be your first checkpoint! who would be motivated to get better when all you’re doing is giving them an already failing grade and pushing them back???

you’re all just... so paralyzed by ignorant fear every time you interact with someone with an ed bc you are so fucking detached from it as a concept, but you wont LEARN how to BEHAVE AROUND THESE PPL! LIKE! and then you claim you act this way ‘because you care'. ok then why do you feel like you dont have to listen or learn??? why dont you see these tactics as needlessly cruel when its explained??? bc oh you cant ‘’’’’trust’’’’ ppl with eds to tell You how to help Them, right??? they’re probably lying, you know better than them ofc. smhhh, every other mental illness community gets to speak for themselves to the ppl without their experiences and therefore the ability to hurt them, sure, but not the sneaky ed people, they created pr.0/a.na/, (the ONLY existing space for encouraging mentally ill ppl in self destructive behaviors, obviously), so they dont know what they need, they have to be Told by Normal people bc their irrational brains are Just Too Broken. (/s)............ like.............?? it is Sooo fuckin prejudiced and disgusting tbh. we gotta do better than this.

eds are almost completely left out of communities for mental health these days. its seriously so disappointing. if you ACTUALLY ‘care’, then ok you need to swallow your pride and do better, you need to Listen and not let your personal discomforts (genuine triggers excluded!) with their appearance or behaviors get in the way of how humanized and committed your decent treatment of their disorder is. tbr, sometimes you arent just ‘concerned’ about a person, sometimes how you go about your feelings is rooted in your inner urge to validate your own discomforts with them, which means it might end up more about you than about them, which hurts them. i mean for the love of god, these ppl are not ‘irresponsible’ for existing around others with their ~unhealthy bodies~, they are not a walking trigger and cant be treated like one, they arent contagious, they will not benefit mentally from hearing you say you think they should be physically banned from posting selfies or w/e, that isolation WONT prevent eds from ~~~spreading~~~ and will severely harm the person in question, you are not making a heroic decision to try and bully them away to ‘save’ others from ever being around them or save them from being around an “enabling” (supportive recovery/not shameful) community. you are not ‘fixing’ them by making them hate their underweight bodies. you’re LITERALLY just ignorant and prejudiced and ableist, your ideas are actually Very harmful, you are not a savior, you are making it worse, plain and simple. Please just start doing better already, its kind of a life or death situation here

#tw eating disorder ment// /#long post// /#tldr;;; hey guess what guys. you know what you should do if you think you see a body check??#compliment em. just avoid the topic of their weight/size/etc or their disorder (even to encourage them to recover. dont start there)#literally pm them and tell them you like their hair. their clothes. their voice. their personality. their art. their username. ANYTHING #that HUMANIZES THEM AS A PERSON OUTSIDE THEIR DISORDER #and BUILDS FOUNDATIONS FOR SELF LOVE!!!!!#/UNCONDITIONAL/ SELF LOVE that reminds them their value lies in MORE THAN THEIR BODY TYPE #that is so unfathomably fuckign IMPORTANTTTTT YOU GUYYYYS DONT UNDERSTAND I #literally please at the very least if u arent comfy with that just stop . Insulting. underweight bodies. that is literally.#'''enabling''' their habits. u have to be literally impossibly ignorant to think that wont make them worse. so. fuck you #if you actually 'care' abt these suffering ppl the way you claim uhhh improve your behavior after hearing all the flaws with it pointed out #puhlease #?#instead of just. sticking the r3xies in the corner and saying 'it makes me uncomfy so if i cant see it it doesnt matter'#like why tf do ppl assume so much of this is about 'attention' or rather positive attention for self destruction #and therefor ANY ATTENTION AT ALL must be bad and shunning is the right answer. like????#bro just. put in literally an ounce of effort here and give them the right KIND of attention which is easy to figure out if ur educated.#godddddddduhh #yes im sorry but the mentally ill slowly dying ppl DO require your attention actually. if ppl are in danger 'for attention' its uh.#more important that you just. dont ignore that and figure out the most nuanced responses Later actually #yall just dont want the responsibility on you if you say the wrong thing and im sorry but to an extent thats just... kinda... selfish #they need ya buddy you dont have to be bffs with every single one of em but you could just like. treat em like a person at least shruugg #all im asking is that yall educate yourselves a little better and stop this horrible shit

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missallsundayyy · 4 years ago

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Bandit and A School Girl

For today's fic its gon be bout my BIGGEST crush EVER. CHROLLO FUCKING LUCILFER. So I actually wrote more for this fic I think this is part 5 or sumn but I decide that this is my favourite part to post on this blog so here u go. Something bout Chrollo being a sugar fucking daddy turns me on so hard ON GOD. YES Im a Chrollo Stan and I'll always be ~~~ I actually have this fit posted somewhere as well and IF you guys want more parts just tell me & I'll post it here. Oh and also I don't really write with OC's I guess its just my preference I would usually come out with my own name but in this case I am borrowing a haracter from Seven Deadly Sins......Elizabeth Liones simply because she's the perfect character to portray my fic vision.

"I know that stare and look. Don't. There's something wrong about her. Elizabeth is one of the hottest girls on our campus but boys that goes on a date with her never want to talk to her or even look at her again. Despite that.......she's very smart and also one of the top students here." a boy her age said to Chrollo while he was waiting for Elizabeth to end her class.

He found this interesting, he was getting to know more about her without her telling him. He had already seen first hand that she can be erratic but this was from another pov of the girl.

"Do you think I'm compatible with her then?" Chrollo's demeanor changed to one of those cheeky school boys that had a crush on a ridiculously pretty highschool girl. The brown haired boy laughed and scratched his head "You look much older than Elizabeth and you're probably not from this school. Judging by your appearance and body posture, you're probably a very determined person and also a confident man." the random guy briefly summarised him. Chrollo laughed "Your observation explanations must be a mandatory skill here I guess" he said .

"To be honest, most of us are just trying. God seemed to gift some students here with high IQ and abilities to absorb every knowledge given to them in a heartbeat and Elizabeth is one of them. I'm quite jealous" he joked. "Well don't say I didn't warn you, Elizabeth is very attractive but she's suspicious at the same time and I don't mean it in a good way" Chrollo nodded at the guy's departure with a smile before returning his gaze to Elizabeth "You might be a serpent in disguise " he mentally thought.

"You're not some ordinary guy with a crush yourself" the random student muttered to himself, looking back to Chrollo giving him one last suspicious glance.

Chrollo of course felt the hostile glance, he might be just trying to pursue someone he likes but he will never let his guard down, He smiled to himself

"Elite school indeed."

TIME SKIP

"You know you didn't have to fetch me from class, my dorm is on this campus." Elizabeth said sweetly to Chrollo.

They were walking towards the campus café. "Well there's nothing wrong about wanting to see the girl I like isn't it" he flirted playfully. To anyone that knew Chrollo will find his current behaviour mystifying, he never showed such emotions with anyone but was able to with Elizabeth.

"If you like me so much why don't we go on dates like girlfriend and boyfriends" she joked cutely. He smiled at her not so subtle hint. "If you want me to take you on date you should have just asked. I would love nothing more to go out with you, afterall how can I turn down such a request when a young attractive schoolgirl wants to go out with an old man like me" he teased and Elizabeth burst out laughing. "Oh! so you agree I'm an old man then" he raised his brows down at her. She shook her head still laughing, "You know I don't think that way and I think you're a very very handsome man Chrollo" she said shyly, her face tinted with a slight blush.

"Do you like this school Elizabeth? Are you enjoying yourself?'' They sat down on a bench on the campus grounds and Elizabeth leaned on Chrollo's shoulder. "Oh god that was such a long lecture, I am mentally tired" she whined softly but continued "I love studying in this school but I know and feel there's more that I can learn. It's not enough for me here." she said whilst playing with the sleeves of his buttoned up shirt.

He looked so handsome Elizabeth felt like jumping onto him right now. She was zoning out on him , her mind went dirty and she suddenly had a brilliant idea, thrilling if she would say so herself.

"I want to show you something, Chrollo! Come!"

She abruptly stood up and took his hand and dragged him with her towards the campus. Chrollo smiled, she was tiredly whining one second and dragging him around the next.

Elizabeth dragged Chrollo into her Constitutional classroom that was now empty.

"I hate this class the most, it's repetitive and the hours are ridiculous" Elizabeth complained.

Chrollo took the classroom layout into mind "So you want me to burn this class for you my dear?" he asked seriously. Elizabeth turned to him and laughed at his words "You're funny you know that, we're not here for public vandalism" she said softly walking towards him innocently.

Elizabeth grabbed Chrollo's collar and kissed him roughly. His hands instantly grabbed her waists and her small hands roamed and slowly crept its way under his white shirt. Her palms greedily roamed his hard abs, even if she didn't have a view of him, touching him made her see his glory in her mind. She had already memorized him mentally and there is no way she could forget. Her lips left his and she planted small kisses down his throat and her tongue gilded back up teasingly against his Adam's apple. Her lips planted small kisses and she went towards his right right ear.

"We're here so I can suck you off"

She whispered and her right hand palmed his hardening cock through his pants, her voice filled with lust she couldn't contain herself, everytime she thought of him in class she got so god damn fucking wet. Just by the thought of him. He grunt at her vulgar words, he became harder just by her words. "You're very naughty Elizabeth, the classroom is not locked. What if a lecturer comes in then?" he was struggling to finish his sentence because her hand movements were getting too much for him. "Then I'll be in trouble danchou......" moaned in his ear. That was the last straw for him. He grabbed her silver hair roughly and yanked her down in front of his crotch.

"You better stop talking like that and put me in that sweet mouth of yours." he growled at her. Elizabeth giggled at his request, her small hands hurriedly fumble with his pants and in a second she had him down her throat. "fuckkkkk..el..elizabet..th yo..you're such a good fucking girl" he moaned and encouraged her actions. His fingers run through her silky smooth hair, appreciating her feminine features greatly. The look she gave sucking his cock like that, the lewd sounds from her doing the deed. The sloppy wet sound echoing throughout her classroom accompanied by her soft moans of enjoyment made him want to stop her and ram her against one of these school desks. He decided against the idea because he loved how determined the sexy young girl was in giving him pleasure like this. Her head bobbed up and down, coating his very large member with her saliva, it was as if she was in her own world.

Elizabeth was truly enjoying what she was doing, she didn't feel forced or obligated to suck him, doing this felt like an honour and she was going to show him that nobody was as good as her. "mhhmmm....." she took his cock out of her mouth with a soft 'plop' sound and licked viciously bottom to top "you're so fuc..mmmm..king big Chrollo, can...have this in my mouth everyddayy??..." he almost came to her dirty talks. "This will be...uhh..the only fucking...cock in that pretty mouth of yours Elizabeth.." she nodded at his words, giving herself 100% to him.

"You're the only one that I will pleasure, no other man will feel my lips, mouth, body but you..." she said, locking her eyes with his. The eye contact was a promise for the both of them, no one will ever touch them in such a way. "Good...show me how good you are for me and make me cum Elizabeth." he said yanking her head roughly making her take him wholly once again.

"mmmmhhh!" the soft noises she was making and the view of her body on her knees with her skirt riding up her thighs flashing him a generous amount of her thick and soft thighs.

Her tongue licked the tip of his head in a teasing manner before roughly sucking his cock again. His large hands had her hair in a ponytail "yes...yes fuck that cock with your mouth.." he urged her, he was almost there and it took Elizabeth to withdraw his cock from her mouth and spitting on it seductively before taking him all the way down again.

"shit! ah..... fucck! fuck Elizabeth!" he grunted and release his seed into her pretty mouth and he made sure to empty everything he got into her mouth. He still had a tight grip on her hair and she was moaning at his orgasm, it was such a godly sight for her.

"mmmmmm that's so much cum down my throat Chrollo.." her voice was soft and innocent, she could feel how sore her throat was becoming. He let go of her hair and closed his eyes, processing the euphoric feeling he just felt because of her efforts. "How many boys have you practiced on, the way your mouth worked was wonders" he complimented her. She giggled and stood up "Well I have dated a few boys in this campus and i have done things occasionally with them."

He had already adjusted himself and his pants was back on, he then remembered what the guy said to him when he was waiting for Elizabeth just now. "You've had boyfriends before you, I don't like it. Shall I kill your past lovers?" he said bluntly. Elizabeth laughed, he could be so cute yet so horrific at the same time

"All the boys in this campus combined could never be as handsome as you" she said.

"Take me to my room and lets have fun" she said innocently but already was walking out of the classroom. He laughed and trailed behind her shaking his head.

"Anything you want Elizabeth"

#hxh #hunterxhunter #Chrollo #Chrollo Lucilfer #Elizabeth liones #seven deadly sins

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