#i hear them eldrith

[dipperscavern]

the brainworms…. they call to us… do you hear their song

the worms in question (the song is loud, and beautiful, and i am so very afraid.)

[softspiderling]

est-ce que je t’aime? | j.v

summary:

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

OR; After having spent almost eight namedays in Oldtown, you longed for your return to King’s Landing, to see Jace again. When the day finally comes, you didn’t expect to be thrust in the middle of a war for the crown.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: mention of death (Viserys), canonical violence (follows plot of the show up to Storm’s End), otherwise this part is pretty tame!

word count: 8,2k

author’s note: i do not know a single thing about daeron except for the tidbits we have learned in the show. the rest is made up (but imo my Daeron character analysis is pretty great finally my bachelor's in english has proven useful). this is gonna be a two parter! the first part is heavily reader x daeron/team green focused, while the second part will focus on reader’s and jace’s relationship. title is from GIMS' song est-ce que tu m'aimes which also inspired this fic... also @eldrith bc i fear i will be threatened with a gun if i dont... happy reading 🫶🏼

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“I have a letter from the Queen Alicent and and another one from the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” the messenger said, bowing as he stood at the door.

“Thank you Ser.”

Taking the letters, the messenger bowed to take his leave, and you handed Daeron the letter from his mother before settling into your chaise with Jace’s letter.

This was how you and Daeron received news from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. You hated how you had to wait so long to hear news, longing for the time all of you were at King’s Landing together, but you knew that things hadn’t been working out with Rhaenyra and her family nor with Alicent and her children.

You thought that was the main reason Daeron had been sent to Oldtown, to shield him from the tumultuous life at court and you along with him, despite that you had been Helaena’s lady in waiting.

Smiling at the contents of the letter, you tried to imagine Jace’s voice as he told you of Luke taking flight with Arrax for the first time, failing miserably. It had only been two years since you saw him last, but you knew how boys matured quickly in a short span of time, Daeron being the perfect example.

He had only come up to your shoulders when you first arrived in Oldtown, now, he was almost as tall as you.

“Helaena and Aegon were married,” Daeron suddenly said and your hands stilled, lowering Jace’s letter.

You glanced at him, noticing how small his voice sounded. Putting the letter away, you clasped Daeron’s arm, offering some comfort. You knew how hard it was for him to be away from his family and hearing about important news like that through letter just made the distance seem even greater.

“To whom?”

“To each other.”

“What?”

“Look,” Daeron said, handing you the letter his mother had sent him with the official sigil of the Targaryen house. You read through the letter, before sitting back with a surprised sigh.

“Helaena must be devastated,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your temples. You couldn’t imagine how alone Helaena must feel, to be married off to Aegon. He had always been a little crude; you doubted he had changed much.

“I cannot believe mother did not even deem it necessary to bring me home for their wedding,” Daeron said with a frown. “Am I even still her son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chastised him. “Your mother sent you away for your own good.”

Even as you said those words, you didn’t quite believe them yourself. It had been so long since Daeron has seen his family, you understood sending him away in the first place, but going for so long without a single visit?

With a sigh, Daeron brushed his silver hair back, angling towards Jace’s letter you had left on the table.

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

“So you have thought about marrying my nephew?”

You groaned and Daeron only cackled when you shoved him.

“Go sit and write to your mother,” you told him with a sniff of your nose and even though he grimaced at you, he sat down at the wooden desk, grabbing a roll of parchment. Even though Daeron was of much higher rank than you, he had adopted you as some sort of older sister ever since you two got to Oldtown, with you being the only familiar person from home that was still present in his life, apart from his uncles, of course.

It pained you, to see Daeron long for his family, who seemed to have discarded him so easily. You wondered when he would get to his family again as you reached for Jace’s letter to keep on reading;You wondered when you would get to see Jace again.

It was six more years before either of that would happen. However under much different circumstances than either of you had imagined.

“Urgent news from King’s Landing!” the messenger said, his breath short as he handed Lord Ormund a roll of parchment. You and Daeron glanced at each other; you were in the middle of breaking fast, the most important meal of the day in Oldtown; it must be incredible important news for the messenger to disrupt the meal like that. His face was stony as he read the contents of the letter, before his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lowered the letter, his eyes finding Daeron.

“Your father has passed. They are to crown your brother Aegon to be King. You are expected back in King’s Landing.” Lord Ormund’s eyes found you. “Both of you.”

It didn’t take long for Daeron and you get everything ready for your departure, you barely noticed most of your belongings being packed up, still reeling from the news. You couldn’t believe King Viserys had died. Of course you had known from the letters that Daeron had received from his mother that the king had taken quite ill, but still. And he named Aegon as his new heir? You couldn’t imagine Aegon, the boy who teased his brother endlessly to become King of the Seven Realms, but who were you to judge?

Your hand was itching to write to Jace, despite your last letter still being unanswered. You weren’t sure what had changed, but lately you felt like Jace’s letters had become scarce, every answer taking longer than the last. You weren’t quite bold enough to ask why in a letter, fearing a rejection, but maybe when you saw him, you could gauge his mood. You knew you were to see him at King Viserys’ funeral or the latest at Aegon’s coronation, you would see him sooner than your letter would take to get to him. Despite knowing that, your eyes caught on parchment and quill, so you took leave to Daeron’s chamber to distract yourself.

The door to his chambers stood open as you stepped in, the maids moving in a flurry as they packed his belongings, while Daeron was sitting on his bed, unmoving. Gingerly, you moved to sit behind him, but he barely acknowledged your presence, gazing out of the window.

“I’m sorry about your father’s passing,” you told him, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I have been living without a father for quite some time,” he replied wryly, glancing at you. “I suppose it will not feel any different.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it, hoping to lend him comfort. “I know. But still, I wish he had been a better father to you.”

Daeron only snorted, shaking his head.

“Are you nervous to see your kin again?”

The young Prince let out a laugh, unwinding his hand from your grip to stand.

“Kin? I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years,” he scoffed, starting to pace. “Mother writes to me once in a moon, Helaena’s letters are more confusing than not, and Aegon and Aemond barely write to me on my name day. I have not seen them since my eighth name day.”

“They are still your kin, Daeron.”

“By blood, yes.”

“Is there any other way to be kin?”

You were humoring him, knowing he was frustrated and nervous to see his family but Daeron stopped in his tracks, looking at you.

“Yes. You.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he took his seat next to you again, cradling your hand in his.

“You came with me to Oldtown when you did not have to, gave me a sense of familiarity in this… Farce of a home, lent me comfort in a way my own blood failed to do,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “You are my sister in everything but blood.”

“Oh Daeron,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug and letting the younger boy - despite him arguing that he was long a man - find comfort in your arms. Ten and six, and the burden of feeling like you were abandoned by your family. You wished he did not have to feel this way, but you were powerless to change it.

“Swear to me you will not abandon me once we get back to King’s Landing,” Daeron said, pulling away to hold you at an arm’s length, his eyes searching yours.

“I swear it,” you told him, a smile on your face. “Swear to me you will not say any of this to your mother.”

Daeron let out a laugh at that, but you only shook your head, only half-jesting. You know Otto Hightower would fall right to his grave if he had heard Daeron call you his sister. You were high-born, yes, but in no way comparable to a Princess.

A knock sounded on the door, before a squire entered. “Everything has been prepared for your departure my Prince.”

“Very well, we will be right out,” Daeron answered with a nod.

The squire bowed, before leaving again and you squeezed Daeron’s hand, standing.

“I will go fetch my belongings, you go bid farewell to your uncles.”

Daeron nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I will meet you outside the city walls.”

You touched his cheek gently before you departed. A knight and two maids followed you with bags of sustenance and personal belongings to the city walls, where a handful of dragonkeepers were eyeing the sky. Lifting your gaze, you saw Tessarion fly over the city in circles, a smile growing on your face, excited to be making the trip back to King’s Landing on dragonback.

You had always loved whenever Daeron took you out flying on Tessarion; deep within you wished to feel a bond as special as a dragonrider had with their dragon. You wondered if Jace would take you flying on Vermax, now that all of you were reconvening for the King’s funeral rite and Aegon’s coronation.

Tessarion let out a screech before coming to land on the small green meadow, and you knew Daeron must be close. Surely enough, you heard footsteps coming closer before Daeron stopped just next to you, knights accompanying him.

“Will you miss Oldtown?” You asked him, but Daeron only shook his head.

“Nothing keeping me here,” he answered, stepping forward to greet Tessarion as she landed, calming her as the knights and maids attached the satchels and bags to the saddle. You let out a deep breath, turning to look at Oldtown for one last time. While Daeron had been right, a part of you was sad to leave, as it had been the place you had called home for the last years.

“Are you sure this is King’s Landing?”

The journey to King’s Landing had been uneventful and quick, a half day’s journey only. When you had arrived, flying over the city, Daeron directed Tessarion into the dragon pit, where the dragonkeepers had been waiting. Maids had then taken you into the Red Keep, and you barely had any time to react as you looked at the adornments that decorated castle; countless dedications to the Seven. The busy Keep you had remembered had now been replaced with empty halls and dark walls.

Daeron glanced at you before looking around. “Surely mother’s doing.”

The maid led you into empty chambers, bowing to Daeron.

“The Queen Dowager will be with you shortly, my Prince.”

Daeron thanked her and she inclined her head at him before turning to you.

“My Lady, if you follow me.”

“Where are you taking her?” Daeron, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. The maid paused, glancing between the two of you.

“To her chambers, my Prince.”

“She will stay with me.”

“Daeron, you should see your mother by yourself, I can come see you after,” you assured him but Daeron merely shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I shall not meet my mother alone.”

“Daeron-“

“Please,” Daeron begged, his voice panicked and you sighed, giving in. Only then did Daeron release the grip on your arm.

The maid still paused but she then decided to retreat, but not without bowing to Daeron again. He started pacing in the room, picking up the small trinkets that littered the desk.

“They just put me in my old chambers thinking it will be like I never left.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing around before you realized that Daeron was right - you were standing in his old chambers. They had replaced the furniture and added a bigger bed, but it was the same chambers he had stayed in when he was a little boy.

“They have always kept a place for you to return, is that not a good thing?”

Daeron looked at you with a frown when the doors suddenly opened and Alicent stepped in, in tow with Daeron’s siblings and his grandsire, Otto. Alicent beamed at the sight of her youngest son, though her smile wavered when she saw you, before turning her eyes back to Daeron, opening her arms.

“My boy.”

“Mother,” Daeron replied, his voice hesitant before he fell into her arms, hugging him tightly.

Your heart warmed at the sight and Daeron seemed to lose all of the fears he had been carrying - if only for a split second - as he laid in his mother’s arms. You were content to stay back, let Daeron get reacq with his family again, but you weren’t ignored for long, when someone threw their arms around you with so much momentum, it nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh Gods,” you laughed, a head of silver hair in your face. “Helaena.”

“I missed you,” the Princess whispered and you hugged her back just as tightly, sighing. She gave you one last squeeze, before Helaena pulled away to muster you, running her hands through the ends of your hair.

“You look well,” she said. “Very beautiful.”

You flushed at her kind words, lacing her hands with yours. “So are you, my Princess.”

Helaena smiled brightly at you. “You must meet Jahaera and Jahaerys.”

“There is time for that later,” Alicent decided, cutting in. Helaena’s smile dropped slightly and she fled to your side as her mother stepped to you. You bowed your head to greet her, but Alicent grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you into a hug, surprising you.

“Thank you,” she said quietly in the privacy of the embrace. “Thank you for watching over Daeron when I was unable to.”

You wrapped your arms around Alicent. “Of course my Queen.”

She pulled away, straightening her dress and you caught a glimpse of Otto talking to Daeron before Aegon and Aemond stepped into your view.

“My Princes,” you said, bowing. “My condolences for your father.”

“Thank you,” Aemond said. “He was in great pain, The Stranger freed him.”

His voice was monotone, almost void of emotion and you wondered if any of them mourned their father. Aegon nodded, though he seemed more subdued.

“Are you excited to be King, my Prince?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

He gave you a wry smile, opening his mouth but Aemond gave him a subtle jab in the side with his elbow.

“Uh, yes, of course, my Lady,” Aegon said, clearing his throat. “Now that we have all reconvened, the coronation cannot come soon enough. You are a much better guest than our nephews.”

That made you pause.

“Jace and Luke were here?” You asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yes. Lord Vaemond challenged Luke as heir for Driftmark and the trial was held at court. They left just shortly before father passed,” Aemond told you, his voice even. You hadn’t known that.

“When are they expected to return?”

Alicent exchanged looks with Otto, silent conversation passing between them and you glanced at Daeron, who seemed just as confused. Something was going on, something you weren’t aware of.

“They are not,” Alicent then said and your lips parted in surprise. “Rhaenyra is upset, rightfully so, that her father had chosen Aegon as his heir, so she decided to remain on Dragonstone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided not to press the matter, only nodding. The topic was quickly brushed off as Alicent wrapped her arm around Daeron, trying to draw him into conversation, asking about his interests. You only listened half-heartedly, your mind still spinning from the news.

“Do you not think all of this odd?” you asked, your voice low. “I know Rhaenyra is proud, but refusing to show up to the coronation or even pay respects to her late father?”

It was the day after your arrival in King’s Landing, the day of the coronation. The day was hectic, the Keep suddenly bustling with servants and maids getting everything ready; you had taken the advantage to sneak into Daeron’s room, something that had gotten much more difficult ever since you got back to King’s Landing.

“Maybe thing’s have changed,” Daeron replied, rubbing his temple. “We have been away for a while, we do not know of the things that have transpired.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a knock on the door interrupted you, a maid coming to fetch you for the coronation was about to begin. As you walked to the carriage, you were arguing with yourself on the inside, knowing that you were privy of most details, thanks to Jace’s letters. You couldn’t believe Rhaenyra wouldn’t rush to King’s Landing to bid farewell to her father. There must be something else holding her back.

As you got to the Dragonpit where the coronation was held, you were surprised that it was over faster than you had imagined, almost like it was rushed. Then again, this was your first coronation so who were you to say this wasn’t how every coronation went? As Aegon raised his hand to the small folk, eliciting applause, you joined in. The applause ceded when a loud growl shook the entire building. Silence followed, before the floor gave away when a dragon emerged through the stone, countless people falling to their death, trampled by the the huge beast with Princess Rhaenys on top.

Meleys, you thought, stood before the family, and Alicent rushed towards Aegon to shield him, cries and pleads from the smallfolk surrounding you. Criston shielded Helaena, and you grasped Daron’s hand as he only stared at his cousin in shock.

With bated breath, everyone waited - to be burnt, eaten, you weren’t sure. But Meleys only let out a deafening roar, before flapping her wings, breaking through the doors to escape to freedom.

“What in the Seven Hells was that?” you muttered to Daeron. He gave you a shrug, squeezing your hand as he looked you over, making sure you were unharmed.

The small folk on the other hand were fighting to get out of the building, which seemed to be crumbling in on itself, and Criston began to usher everyone out.

You were the last to come down from the stairs, taking Daeron’s hand he was offering to you when a crunching sound from above made you lift your head, seeing a large part of the roof cave in, falling right down heading straight for you.

“Sister!”

Daeron gave a harsh tug of your arm, pulling you behind him, as the large slab of stone fell right in the place you were standing mere moments ago.

“Are you well?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he padded you down.

“I’m fine, Daeron.”

“Daeron.”

You both looked up when Alicent called for him, just to see that they were all staring at you, Otto seeming incredibly displeased as you realized what Daeron had just called you. Seven Hells, you thought, this was precisely what you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you even realize what sort of rumors would be spread if anyone had heard you refer to her as “sister”?!”

You were pacing in front of the study, voices muffled through the wooden door. After you had gotten back to the Keep, Helaena and Aegon had returned to their children, while Otto and Alicent had dragged Daeron into the study. Neither of them sounded particularly happy, their raised voices spilling out of the room. You were wringing your hands, something that you had been doing a lot since you got to King’s Landing. Not even three nights ago, you were in Oldtown wondering if you were ever to return to King’s Landing, now you were back and everything was happening so fast and you felt like you were missing a big part of the story. When did the King change his mind about his heir? Why wouldn’t Rhaenyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing following the King’s death? And why in the Seven Hells did Rhaenys break through the floor with Meleys like she was being held captive? You had so many questions, none of which you had answer to; deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice someone approaching you.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

Letting out a small gasp, you jumped to face Aemond, a hand on your chest as he eyed you, unimpressed.

“Gods, you scared me,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I am waiting on Daeron. Your mother and grandsire didn’t want me to come in.”

Clearly.

Aemond didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. You eyed him as he stood there, on guard. It was hard to gauge him; you felt like Aemond was waiting for you to make a mistake so he had a reason to get rid of you. You remembered the soft, warm boy he used to be when you first got to King’s Landing. You wondered when he had changed, if it was when Luke took his eye or before.

“I should have known Daeron would cling to you after you had gone to Oldtown with him,” he said, his voice slow. “What is it, that you are planning to do with him? Make him infatuated with you so you can insinuate yourself into our family?”

Your ears grew hot at his implication. How dare he abandon his brother for nearly all his life and accuse you of having improper thoughts?

“Daeron is like a brother to me,” you said, voice indignant. “I care about him and I mislike being accused of such a horrible things.”

“So you vow your loyalty to our family, to Aegon as King?”

The way Aemond phrased the question made it seem like you had a choice and you hesitated, the fight leaving you.

“Of course, he’s the rightful heir, is he not?”

Aemond only gave a nod, taking a step back. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, but the door opened and Daeron stepped out, his face in a scowl.

“What happened?” you asked, but he only gave a brief shake of his head. He inclined his head, and you followed him, a knight on your trail, while Aemond stayed behind. The two of you walked for a while, until you reached the gardens, the knight staying by the edge as you and Daeron took a seat on a bench. He still seemed agitated, so you placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“They accused me of impropriety,” Daeron muttered. “Said that I was opening our family up for vulnerabilities and rumors.”

“We’re not in Oldtown anymore, Daeron, everything you do here is looked upon,” you sighed.

“What is improper about calling you my sister? You have been by my side since my eighth name day,” he argued. “How can I call a woman my mother when I haven’t seen her since I was a boy? The strangers brothers and sister, when I barely recognize them?” Daeron hissed, his voice rising.

“I know you’re upset,” you said quietly, eyes darting around, not wanting him to get in even more trouble. “It’s hard for them to understand. They are not trying to hurt you.”

“Did they not try to hurt me when they cast me out of the family?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, and Daeron let out a shaky breath, staring out in the distance.

“How is my brother faring?”

You shut the door to Daron’s chambers quietly to find Aemond waiting just in front. After you had spent the rest of the afternoon in the gardens, you had thought it best if Daeron laid down for a while before supper, hoping it would calm him.

“It’s hard for him to find his footing here. His life in Oldtown hasn’t been this… Restrictive. It will take him time to adjust.”

Aemond nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I was hoping he would accompany me,” he said. “But I do not think he sounds well enough to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Storm’s End. To get Lord Borros to vow for my brother.”

What?

“Forgive me but who else would he be loyal to?”

Aemond turned around, looking at you in disdain.

“Rhaenyra. She might think she still has some claim on the throne.”

He paused, eyeing you carefully.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Aemond’s eye swept over you once more and he nodded.

“Yes, it will look good to Lord Borros if someone outside of our family is there showing support to Aegon,” he insisted. “It will be a short flight on Vhagar.”

“Very well,” you said, a glance on Daron’s closed door, wondering if you should tell him that you would be gone, but it sounded like the trip to Storm’s End wouldn’t be long, so you decided against waking him. You could tell him after.

You followed Aemond to the dragonpit, where a maid laid a cloak around your shoulders as you watched Aemond mount Vhagar, the breath stocking in your throat at the size of his dragon. Vhagar was large and old, barely able to turn in the dragon pit without brushing the cave.

“Come,” Aemond said, offering his hand to you before pulling you into the saddle, instructing you to hold on tightly.

“Soves, Vhagar!”

With a loud growl, Vhagar stepped out of the dragon pit before taking to the skies, her enormous wings stretching out several feet. The ride on Vhagar was much smoother than every ride you had ever taken on Tessarion, and it wasn’t long before you reached Storm’s End, dark clouds following you. Vhagar landed in the courtyard, you and Aemond climbing off.

“Just in time,” the Baratheon knight said, watching the rain pour from the skies just as you stepped under the roof.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, brother of King Aegon II,” Aemond said, fixing his doublet. “I am here to talk to Lord Borros.”

The knight lead him into the Round Hall, where Lord Borros sat on his seat, seemingly having expected Aemond, his four daughters standing idly next to him.

“Prince Aemond, what can I do for you?”

“Lord Borros, I am here to ask you to pledge loyalty to my brother, King Aegon II.”

“King Aegon, you say,” Lord Borros said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “And what do you offer me for my loyalty?”

You were taken aback by his words, but Aemond only smiled, his hands locked behind his back.

“Your four daughters… They are still unwed?”

A smile spread on Lord Borros’ face and he gestured to his four daughters with his arm.

“Indeed. Are you proposing a betrothal?”

Aemond inclined his head. “Not only am I free to marry, but my younger brother, Prince Daeron as well. His lady companion can attest to his formidable character.”

Your eyes widened at Aemond’s words and you glanced at him, anger welling up inside you. So this was why he had wanted you to come. Aemond paid you no mind and you exhaled deeply, turning to face Lord Borros again, putting up a faux smile.

“Excellent, excellent,” Lord Borros said, clapping his hands. “Let us discuss-“

“My Lord!” A knight called, striding into the hall with quick steps. “Another dragon has been sighted, headed straight to Storm’s End.”

“Ah, that must be my nephew,” Aemond replied easily, your heart skipping a beat. Were you finally going to see Jace again? Lord Borros gestured to the side, and Aemond placed his hand to your lower back to push you along; you fought your urge to slap his hand away from you, eyes darting over to the door.

The heavy rain was still pelting outside, nearly drowning out the sound of the steps as a young boy entered.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” the knight announced. “Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Luke, you thought, looking at the young Prince, now old enough to be delivering messages. The last time you saw him, he was round faced, his dark locks curling around his angelic face. Seeing him lessened the fire in your chest, though you were still angry at this whole situation, and you threw Aemond a look. He didn’t seem like he was paying any attention anyhow, his focus on his nephew who came further into the hall.

Luke’s step faltered when he saw Aemond, before his eyes laid on you. You tried to give him a comforting smile, show him you were a friendly face in a crowd of hostiles, knowing Luke was about to be met with a rejection, but he quickly glanced away, facing Lord Borros.

“Lord Borros...” Luke started. “I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros drawled, his tone less warm. “Which is it? King, or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.”

Lord Borros chuckled in amusement and you could tell Luke was nervous by the way he was shifting on his feet. Aemond seemed to enjoy all of it.

“What’s your mother’s message?”

Luke held out the parchment roll and the a knight fetched it, bringing it to Lord Borros, which he readily accepted, asking for the maester. As the maester quietly recounted the content of the message to Lord Borros, Luke glanced to you and Aemond numerous times, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your eyebrows creased, but the corners of Aemond’s mouth tugged up.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?” Lord Borros spoke, the message seemingly upsetting him greatly. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids… Which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?”

Luke hesitated. You pressed your lips together; he had probably expected less of a hostile welcoming. Lord Borros only scoffed at Luke’s silence.

“Go home, pup,” he sneered. “Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Luke inclined his head, disappointed at the rejection.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen; my Lord.”

Luke turned to leave, but Aemond stepped forward, calling out to him.

“Wait, my Lord Strong.”

You glanced at Aemond, letting out a soft breath, nerves pooling in your stomach. Luke turned, despite the blatant insult.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Your hand reached out to grasp Aemond, but he slipped out of your grips as he stepped closer to his nephew.

“I will not fight you. I came as messenger, not a warrior.”

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said. “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

He took off his eyepatch and you pressed your lips together, eyes darting between uncle and nephew, knowing this was about to escalate terribly.

“As payment for mine. One will serve,” Aemond added, throwing a dagger in Luke’s direction. “I would not blind you.”

Luke stared at Aemond in shock, his lips parted.

“Plan to make it a gift of it to my mother.”

Luke’s eyes dropped to the dagger on the floor, before he lifted his head. “No.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

“Not here,” Lord Borros said, but no one paid him any attention.

“Give me your eye!” Aemond yelled, descending upon Luke, grabbing the dagger from the floor, while Luke stepped back, reaching for his sword. “Or I will take it, bastard.”

“Aemond!” you shouted, panic evident in your voice.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros cut in, his voice raised and Aemond stopped, turning back to look at him. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Luke resheathed his sword, throwing one last look at you before he turned, hurrying out of the hall. Aemond let out a huff of frustration, throwing a dirty look at Lord Borros, exiting the hall without waiting for you.

“Aemond, wait,” you called after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re not thinking about following him on Vhagar in this horrible storm, are you?”

“He cannot get away with it, not again.”

Aemond’s voice was angry and you let out a breath, trying to keep a clear head.

“This is a thing from the past!” you reminded him. “Did you not gain a dragon from it?”

“You were not present when he took my eye!” Aemond hissed, taking a turn before you had reached the courtyard, just in time to see Luke on Arrax, flying out of Storm’s End. It was raining so heavily, you could barely see him, dark rain clouds swallowing Arrax and his rider easily.

Aemond was already walking towards Vhagar, the rain soaking, as you stayed put under the roof, hesitant.

“Are you coming, or staying?” Aemond shouted, climbing on top of Vhagar. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, something that Vhagar no doubtedly was feeling as well with the way she was growling and you wanted him to stay, calm down, but you knew it was no use, so you exhaled deeply, lowering your head.

“I am coming.”

You took his outstretched hand and he pulled you into the saddle behind him; you had barely settled in before Vhagar already leapt up in the sky.

The rain felt like small icy daggers in your face as you ascended higher and higher to the sky, easily catching up to the smaller dragon carrying Luke. Vhagar let out a roar, snapping her jaws at Arrax, as the smaller dragon breathed fire in your direction. It was clear that Arrax was no match for Vhagar.

“Aemond stop!”

Your voice barely carried over the rain, but Aemond disregarded you, his Vhagar as she darted to the left. You tightened your hold on Aemond, nerves coursing through you.

“What is it you’re trying to achieve, Aemond? You yelled, shaking him. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“That boy needs to learn how to fear me,” he only replied, tightening his reins on Vhagar, the distance between you and Arrax growing.

Aemond let out a frustrated growl, urging Vhagar to fly faster and you could feel the adrenaline rising as you almost caught up to Arrax again. You knew you were at a cross roads, and what would happen next would change everything, with Aemond consumed by his anger, and Vhagar following his emotions, someone was bound to get hurt. You had to do something. So as Vhagar descended upon Arrax, her jaws opening, you let go of Aemond, leaping off of Vhagar, almost immediately regretting it as Aemond yelled out your name, before you landed on Arrax, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

The young dragon let out a screech, dropping several feet down with the sudden added weight, just barely escaping Vhagar’s jaws.

“What are you doing?!” Luke screamed, the rain pelting against his face as he held onto his saddle tightly, Arrax roaring.

“Saving your life!”

You scrambled to find anything to hold onto, trying not to fall a gruesome death, your hands gripping onto Luke’s shoulders.

Vhagar’s shadow disappeared, but you knew her and Aemond were lurking inbetween the stormy clouds, you had to act fast. Your eyes were straining against the heavy rain, hand gripping into Luke’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no!”

You grumbled, knowing his feelings were warranted, but this was not the time.

“We’re vulnerable. We need to find a spot to lay low, where Vhagar cannot come in.”

“Arrax is faster, I just need to get back home. It’s not that far!” Luke yelled back and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t even see you.

“That’s what Aemond is counting on! Please Luke, I know you don’t trust me, but I am trying to keep both of us alive.”

Luke groaned in frustration before tightening his reins on Arrax.

“Ilagon, Arrax!” Luke instructed. “Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jurnegon syt ruaragon.” Down, Arrax. We need to search for cover.

Arrax roared before you dropped several feet, flying by a range of mountains. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything in the rain, when you saw a cave several feet down.

The opening was small, too small for Vhagar to get in, but large enough for Arrax.

“Luke,” you said, squeezing his shoulder and pointing to the cave. “Down there.”

Luke nodded, leaning down to guide Arrax into the cave, and soon enough, the both of you were back on solid ground.

Arrax whined and Luke whispered to him gently, stroking his snout. “Lykiri, Arrax,” he said, leaning his head against his dragon’s. “Īlon jāhor jikagon lenton aderī, syt sir, ziry iksos daor ȳgha. Lykiri, issa valonqar.” Calm down, Arrax. We will go home soon, for now, it’s not safe. Calm down, my boy.

Arrax let out a soft whine, before curling in on himself, letting out a puff of smoke. With slumped shoulders, Luke sat down against the cave wall. You took off your cloak, laying it down so it could dry off before you sat down next to Luke, even as the boy avoided eye contact with you.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence with the occasional huff of Arrax, listening to the storm raging on outside. You hoped Aemond would cease his need for revenge soon. As a particularly loud thunder sounded, Luke jumped and you glanced at him, your heart aching.

“Are you well?”

Luke glanced over to you, trying to hide his tense shoulder by tightening his wet cloak around himself.

“No. But I’m unharmed,” he replied, his lips unmistakably shivering.

“It is better when you take off wet clothes, otherwise it might make you sick,” you said, leaning over to him to help unfasten his cloak, but Luke flinched away at your touch and your hands froze midair.

“I am sorry,” you said, breath bated. He must still be shaken, after seeing The Stranger right in the eyes. Luke let out a small breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his cloak.

“Did you know my uncle came to Storm’s End to kill me?” Luke asked, his voice small. “Did you come to make me lower my guards?”

“Forgive me?”

You knew their family affairs were difficult, strained from what had happened in the past, but you were stunned that he would expect this from Aemond, or you.

“I cannot speak of Aemond’s intentions,” you said truthfully. “Only of mine. I never wanted to harm you, and I did my best to keep you safe as soon as I realized that Aemond was too blinded by his need for revenge…”

Luke sniffed, wiping his cheeks and you moved to sit down in front of him.

“I’m only here to help you,” you assured him, holding your hands up in defense. “Arrax would turn me to ashes if I even touch you the wrong way, right?”

Arrax let out a soft growl at that and Luke gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Yes he would.”

“See, you’re in no danger,” you told him, your hand slowly reaching for his cloak, careful, as to not spook him. “Now take off your cloak and lay it down, it will dry off faster this way.”

Luke nodded, unfastening his cloak and laying it down next to yours before he took a seat beside you. Even though he had grown considerably in the years you had not seen him, he still was the little cheeky boy you remembered from before you had left King’s Landing.

“You have grown into a fine young Prince,” you told him. “I almost did not recognize you when you walked into Lord Borros’ hall.”

Luke quirked a smile at you, ducking his head. “I’m almost as tall as Jace now. He despises it.”

You grinned, pulling your legs close. You could imagine Jace just all too well, squinting at the mirror standing next to Luke.

“How is Jace?” you asked, your chest tight. You couldn’t believe how it was mere moon’s turns ago where you were exchanging letters, wondering why his replies seemed to become rarer.

Luke let out a small sigh, like it was a question that plagued him.

“Jace is… Angry. Ever since my uncle usurped the throne he has been trying to take action, fight for my mother’s claim.”

Your forehead creased.

Usurp?

“Pardon… Are you saying Aegon is not the rightful heir to King Viserys?”

Luke stared at you, mouth agape. “… Yes. He stole my mother’s inheritance.”

You only blinked at him, letting the news sink in as you leaned back against the wall, stumped.

“Now everything is falling into place… Why Aemond was questioning my loyalties, Rhaenys! Gods!” You covered your face with your hands, a gasp escaping your lips. “Daeron. I’ve left Daeron at King’s Landing without telling him that I’ve gone.”

You didn’t want to imagine what story Aemond has spun to make you a villain, to draw Daeron on his side.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Luke assured you, patting your hand consolingly. You only nodded, even though you were making up the worst scenarios in your head. Luke gave you a small smile, turning his hand when a yawn overtook him; Arrax had long curled up, his snores filling the cave.

“You should get some rest,” you told him, glancing over to the entrance of the cave where it was still pouring rain. “It might be a while before the rain ceases. I will wake you, when it is safe to leave.”

Luke semed hesitant, but then gave in, settling back against the wall, closing his eyes. As he slept, you noticed how he looked even younger, too young to be thrust into a war like this. Was this the fate that would meet Daeron, Helaena or even Joffrey? The thought unsettled you.

Time passed for a while, and it seemed like the clouds would never pass, but surely enough, the rain lessened, before stopping completely.

Gently, you shook Luke awake, feeling bad for waking him, but you knew he’d want to go home as soon as possible.

“Luke, the rain has stopped,” you told him, waiting for him to blink at you sleepily before you got to your feet, collecting your cloaks off of the ground. You handed Luke his cloak, fastening your own around your shoulders.

“It should be safe now. Aemond must be long gone.”

Luke nodded, glancing at Arrax and then back at you, hesitating, and you knew what he was thinking. You had been thinking it ever since you got to the cave.

“It is alright, Luke. Arrax is too small to carry us both all the way to Dragonstone. Go.”

You tried to be brave, giving Luke a smile but your voice was shaking, whether it was from fear or cold, you weren’t sure. You were a high born lady, you were in no way capable of fending for yourself. Luke leaving you here would mean a certain death, but he didn’t need to know that. Luke looked at you with big eyes, saying nothing before he walked over to Arrax, whispering to him as he stroked his dragon’s neck gently.

You let out a small breath, taking another look around the cave, resigning yourself to your fate when Luke called your name.

“Come, we need to leave before the weather turns again.”

“Luke, no,” you argued but Luke shook his head.

“You saved me. I am not leaving you behind. I would never forgive myself, and neither would Jace,” Luke said, and you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Arrax can carry us both, it is not much longer until Dragonstone.”

You ducked your head, a smile on your lips. Rhaenyra really raised amazing children.

“Very well.”

The two of you squeezed into the saddle on top of Arrax, who let out a small huff as he walked to the entrance of the cave.

“Mēre mōrī kipagon gō īlon issi lenton, issa valonquar,” Luke said to Arrax, gently caressing his neck. “Soves.” One more flight until we’re home, my boy.

Arrax leapt into the air, letting out a screech before stretching his wings, making his way home. As you flew through the skies, your eyes darted around constantly, looking for any sign of Vhagar, but it seemed like the coast was clear. Soon enough, you could see the outline of Dragonstone, and just in time; as you had noticed Arrax growing tired the more you lost on altitude.

“Īlon issi bē konīr, Arrax. Sepār mirrī tolī.” We are almost there, Arrax. Just a bit more.

Luke’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Arrax, despite his nerves. You nearly sighed in relief when Arrax flew towards the small opening to the dragon mount, and you thanked all the Gods when both you and Luke climbed off of Arrax onto solid ground again.

“Prince Lucerys!”

A knight came hurrying into the dragon pit, his eyes flickering to you before turning his attention back to Luke.

“Her Grace has been awaiting your arrival.”

Luke nodded, watching Arrax climb into the depths of the cave to get some much needed rest before he turned to the knight. “Take us to my mother.”

The knight bowed, leading you and Luke into the Keep, stopping in the doorway. Rhaenyra was pacing in front of the fire, her face worried. You hadn’t seen her for so long, but she looked almost exactly the same.

“Prince Lucerys, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra ceased her pacing, looking up and the relief was obvious on her face as she ran toward her son.

“Luke!”

“Mother!”

Rhaenyra threw her arms around her son, embracing him tightly and your breath stocked in your throat as you stayed back. You couldn’t believe how everything could have played out so differently if you had not intervened.

Rhaenyra pulled away, cupping Lucerys’ face with her hands.

“What happened?”

“Aemond and Vhagar were already at Storm’s End when I arrived. Lord Borros refused to stand by his oath… When I left Aemond followed me on Vhagar; if she hadn’t intervened…”

Lucerys paused and Rhaenyra glanced over to you; you, who had stayed behind to give them privacy.

You bowed your head, mostly out of respect but also because you had no idea what to do.

“You’re Helaena’s lady in waiting,” Rhaenyra said.

“I was. I have spent my last eight name days in Oldtown with Daeron.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small, grateful smile, but before either of you could continue your talks, shouts interrupted you.

“Mother! Luke!”

You turned around just to see Jace storming into the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw him again for the first time in so many years, relief washing over his face as he saw his brother stand with his mother unharmed. Then his eyes laid on you, and you gave him a shy smile. Jace only blinked at you, eyeing you from head to toe before his eyes widened; and for a second, you thought he’d be happy to see you. Instead, his forehead creased and his mouth curled downwards.

“What are you doing here?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: omg the drama...what are we thinking??

[enbyboiwonder]

Before the game, Ysuran used to be evil and used to hate humans and want to wipe them off the face of Toril. But though we actually get character quests in this game, it doesn’t go deeply into anything outside the main storyline (though even that it doesn’t go particularly deeply into, anyway), so we get no hint at that. Everything comes from Omduil and later Zarad while doing Ysuran’s character quest—and then it’s all wrapped up with a cute little bow when you turn in the final portion: Ysuran: “Ysuran Auondril is dead. I’m just Ysuran now.” / Omduil: “Yes, so I see.” (What a waste of potential.)

But anyway. I’m gonna have to figure out ways to slip little hints in, which are seemingly innocuous and/or easily explained away, but make sense once you have all the information as being remnants of who he used to be that hadn’t been completely wiped away with his memories. Granted, we don’t know why Ysuran hated humans so, just that it was for a non-insignificant portion of his life: more than 50 years—and that’s just how long ago it was that his involvement with the Eldreth Veluuthra was discovered and he was subsequently exiled. But you’d expect at least some vestiges of it to linger, wouldn’t you? Certainly with Misao, who’s hated humans nearly all his life due to mistreatment he faced for being different in his hometown, including by his own mother, it does.

And I figured out the perfect thing.

The Hands of Glory are the new thieves’ guild in Baldur’s Gate, and their idea of disciplining and training their dogs is straight-up just abuse. (The model used for the dogs has reddish patches on its black fur which looks an awful lot blood, and, cruel as the Hands are, the most likely explanation for that is…) Misao loves animals, and his heart breaks to see the dogs treated this way. As he’s not in a position to try to get them out any other way (assuming anything could even be done for them in the first place), he gives them each as quick and painless a death as he can—but with the Hands, he’s not nearly so merciful.

He revels in killing them, in a way that most who are good-aligned simply do not—though because of the organization’s callous mistreatment of innocent animals and their apparent revelry in torturing regular citizens, he doesn’t remotely recognize it as the vestiges of his deep-seated hatred of humans. It doesn’t even cross his mind to worry at the extent of his bloodlust, the way it did with his initial callous reaction to hearing of the kidnapping victims (some of them are among the ultra-wealthy—which, of course, means that many of them are not) which he reasoned himself out of because of a combination of knowing moon elves to be a goodly race and believing himself to have been headed to Baldur’s Gate to help in the fight against Eldrith. (Really, he hadn’t yet heard of her demise and, after being driven out by Zarad, decided to become proactive again and had hoped to join her. The only thing he had left after Zarad’s memory spell took effect was a drive to reach Baldur’s Gate, and when he found out many adventurers had flocked there in order to take her down, he assumed that was true of him as well, since he had nothing inside him that went against that.)

I’ll have to find other places and ways to slip in hints, but I’m glad I have this now, at least.

[vespiiqueen]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you (if you want !! 💛💖)

Wow I rambled a lot with this but i can't add cuts bc I'm on mobile rn DHSISHSJ sorry :"))))

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1. Ik Ik "haha how cringe are you" of me to say, but honestly? Homestuck. Homestuck helped me in a time of need and when i so desperately wanted something to latch onto. Finally, I caved into my friends telling me to read it-- and it's been a blast!! The epilogues / hs^2 make me feel kinda sad though, because so much of what I loved about the original was yeeted through the nine circles of hell and into the trash. I love Y/ffany's (I call her Yippi tho) design, the art is really pretty at times, Harry is a major dork, I LIVE for seeing Vrissy bc honestly?? Her design is 10/10, very early 2000s emo style and I also live for that. Tavros is cute and a nerd and I think that's swell!

But in terms of story and how any of this happens, it makes me sad to see it happen. If Vriska could return as Vrissy, why not OTHER beta trolls? Where's my Eridan fish man, writers?? Give me the boy or perish by my fury.

2. Also super "haha how cringe are you" but,,, murder cats (Warriors), esp the early 2005-2015 amvs and stuff. I remember watching Flightfootwarrior's "I Will Not Bow" Scourge amv for HOurs and having no clue what was happening, but all these edgy kitties were KITTIES! It's introduced me to a lot of music I still listen to to this very day (Imagine Dragons, Young/the entirety of Hollywood Undead, Breaking Benjamin). And yknow what?? This new arc is absolute chaos, but in the good way.

I'm an "OG Fan". I prefer the first arc, The Prophecies Begin, to almost any of the other arcs. I just could never get into the other arcs-- not to say I haven't read them, I HAVE and the Fire Scene was probably one of my favorite moments beside grumpy Jaypaw, god complex Lionblaze, and fear the gods Hollypaw. I thought the build-up for it was SUPER satisfying. Gray Wing is my baby and I fully embellish in the Gray Wing is Silverpelt theory.

This new arc is definitely something new for the universe. While I didn't read aVoS (but I may do that if i can find the files for it), and so I don't know the major events of it other than what I've seen M.A.P.'s (Multi-Animator Projects, for clarification,,, bc unfortunately that term is also something disgusting). There's fucking cat possession and all the Clans questioning their belief system, yo. Shit be on fire.

Also the Imposter is 100% Ashfur, that's canon now, yeah??? Also im sorry but fuck Root x Bristle that's the dumbest shit I have ever seen. Give me Root x Shadow or face the wrath of my dragon plushies.

RiverClan is my Clan and my gov assigned warrior name is Fireshell 🌟🌟

3. As much as I hate the author,,,,, Harry Potter. It's been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember. I can never really remember why, but I've always just loved it- the movies, the books, the extra little merch that would pop up in my local Walmart. Of course my favorite character is Draco Malfoy. I could go on and on and ON about how I think his character arc was SHIT and JKR didn't have the balls to make him a confident gay man that was always implied through the text (at least, my lesbian ass thought it was implied but i may just be projecting, idk). I could ramble about Draco for HOURS and what I think his character SHOULD have been and how his parents are horrible (more specifically, Lucius bc Narcissa [?] Actually showed a few good moments), and a child should never have to pay for their parents sins.

Oh noo, Draco's a villain because he's a victim of major abuse and peer pressure? He's a villain because a literal child can be horrible and they'll always always always stay as a horrible little fiend?? Fuck that. He's a child.

Unlike manchild grease pan Snape, who was a racist piece of shit and shouldn't have became a fucking school teacher but it's okay because he was ~~~in love~~~. No, fuck you, he was a creep. James Potter n Co may have been a little posh bitch to you, Snape, but that's no fucking excuse to continue to bluntly be a little cunt all the way into adulthood. You're an adult who flatly changed your PATRONUS to imitate Lily's. You have no excuse. And Harry went and named his child after you LIKE JESUS CHRIST, DID RON'S SISTER NOT HAVE A SAY IN THE NAMES TOO?????

I also fully adore the idea that Muggles can run into Hogwarts and their patronus can 100% be a made up, fantasy creature. Imagine you learn the patronus spell and suddenly fucking ARCEUS comes from your wand. Imagine learning the spell and CHTULU (i did not spell that right but im so tired) comes from your wand-- an entire ass fucking Lovecraftian, Eldrith horror is just the embodiment of you. What if it was a fucking Homestuck character like Vriska? How fucking METAL would that be?? Hskajssowjjsjs get on it fandom.

4. Hee hee very evident by my url but Pokemon is another major thing of mine. While vespiquen isn't my favorite (that title goes to Hydreigon), it is definitely up there!

I've ALWAYS enjoyed the idea of Pokemon. You run around, training up these fight monsters and collecting them. I remember playing my sister's Ruby version on her flip-up Gameboy. I couldn't even read but I ran around catching god only knows how many of the same pokemon wherever she was. Apparently, I had fought for hours in the same area and leveled her Blaziken up to lvl 50 something and left her lvl 30s in the dust LMAO.

I got my first game when it was Pearl/Diamond. It was Pearl, and it still holds a very fond place in my heart. I could barely read, I could barely write-- I had named my Turtwig something along the lines of "MmorpHy" and my player boy "ZbsibJ". Yes I remember the names slightly. I really didn't get far-- I barely got to the first gym but I was just so happy to play it.

I eventually lost the game, as a 5 year old would do, but I can still vividly remember what was happening when the game arrived. I had just came back from the dentist and was quite tired from fighting the dentist bc I was super scared. Mom suddenly handed me a box and said it was mine-- my overseas (at that time) dad had bought me Pearl and my sister Diamond, because I lost my shit about it when he visited one time.

Well, tdlr, I played it for about five minutes while struggling to stay awake against the loopy gas they made me take. I fell asleep listening to Twinleaf Town's soundtrack. Every time I play a rom of Pearl and I get to where the player's house fades in and I hear that first tune of the song, I get a huge smile on my face and cry-- as.. Weird as it sounds.

A few years later, I had gotten Pokemon Black bc I liked Reshiram on the cover. Now, this one I could actually READ when playing, but I don't remember a lot of things about it. I probably lost this one too, as a 8/9 year old would do. I DO remember, I chose Snivy and my sister chose Tepig (hrmm there's a theme here of grass/fire goin on......) and vibing to the music. I was so amazed by the sprites moving, I just kept getting into encounters to see the sprites move (oh boy, no one tell younger 7-9 y/o me about Zelda......oh wait....)

Playing Pokemon NOW, as a 17 year old """gifted""" chick, I stil have very fond memories. I recently beat Pokemon Black again and GOD the OTS SLAPS. I fucking adore the soundtrack-- the track that plays when you battle a trainer, the low health dings being turned into a legit song that also slaps, the battle! gym leader themes-- and oh my gOd, the legendary theme is amazing? It really tells you just how glorious these pokemon are supposed to be. It's not intimidating like Groudon/Kyroge/Rayquaza's themes. It's not action packed like Palkia/Dialga's is, it's not filled with tension like Giratina/Arceus's is-- but it radiates the GLORY that the beasts portray. And I live for that. (Also, Kyurem's version is my favorite because it glitches in the beginning and that's rly cool)

P/D/P and BW/BW2's stories, imo, are some of the greatest ones. Yeahhh, US/USUM's is cool and I haven't played XY nor SwSh-- but the ones I can find memorable are PDP and BW/BW2. I love N. I love Barry. They're my sons. Ghetsis is fucking terrifying, Cyrus needs a hug. Giratina scared the piss out of me when I was younger, which was NOT helped by Giratina and The Sky Warrior.

I think my favorite movies are the gen 4 ones. The Rise of Darkrai having a tear-jerking theme for such a mysterious pokemon (i still tear up when i hear Ocarion), Giratina being spiteful is a mood and Shaymin was cute, Arceus being angry is also a mood. Yeah, Pokemon 4Ever made me cry my eyes out over Celebi, Mewtwo Returns made me again cry because Mewtwo accepting who he is, I remember how vastly different the BW movies are-

I just. I have a lot of memories with the series, even if Gamefreak and Nintendo kinda do the series dirty a lot (your top-grossing thing and you made That monstrosity for the Switch? How dare you.). It's comforting to be stressed and pull up my roms for the games and to play them. Mystery Dungeon is incredibly fun to play, Pokemon Ranger is really fun with the concept (Shadows of Almia continues to kick my ass to this very day and FUCK the Jungle Relic, I hate the Water Challenge fucking gyarados bullshit). I remember the pokemon I got for MD (I got Time, my sis got Darkness) was Mudkip, if that is any help.

I love my little fictional pixel monsters.

5. Yup, someone told tiny 7-9 y/o me about console games. The legend of Zelda. My first Zelda game was Twilight Princess on the Wii and BOY did I play the fucking SHIT out of that game.

Honestly, looking back and looking at playthroughs now-- I still love TP. Twilight Princess is still one of my top favorite Zelda games-- yes, even after playing OoT, Majora's Mask, Wind Waker, Skyward Sword, the anniversary four swords edition for the DS where you could play by yourself (Nintendo pls bring that back, I don't have friends to play it with ;-;), Phantom Hourglass- ect.

Something about Twilight Princess grabbed me by the head and yeeted me into the world. I can remember playing it for hours with little to no breaks. I, a tiny 9 y/o, had gotten the hang of the controllers and managed to get past the tutorial quite easily. And then, I was launched into the game and I wasn't stopping for NOTHING. Mom and Dad would have to force me to save and get off to go and eat dinner. THAT sucked.

I had done everything on my own up until the first temple, the forest temple. Not where/when you saved the dumb kid, but when you were saving the spirit's light. Theeeeeeennn I got stuck on the fucking Forest Temple for deadass six months straight. I'd play for hours, running around in circles, unable to figure out where to go, and because I didn't grasp the temple's purpose of being that way- I'd get angry and get off. It wasn't until dad looked up a walkthrough and talked me through what I was supposed to do that I learned how to get through temples.

I had gotten to the last little fight with Ganondorf before the Wii broke and i could no longer play. Despite the Wii being broke and we got rid of it, I was ADAMANT on keeping the game, and I kept that game for YEARS. It was an original copy out of a sealed box, and I eventually lost it when I left it accidentally at my now ex-friend's house.

She had a Wii and I went "hey I have a Wii game!" And I brought my Zelda over. Worst fucking choice of my goddamn life. Mom called me to come home and said I couldn't sleep over like the original plan was, and that was it. My ex-friend stashed my Zelda and I never saw it again. And, even if I wanted to-- I couldn't get it back, which makes me upset. We had a BAD falling out. She likely doesn't even remember it's there, or sold it to the local game junkie kid who buys ALL games.

But I still love the game. Midna was amazing, and I loved how snarky she was and she has a very cute design! The game's OST is fucking phenomenal. Midna's Desperate Hour makes me cry bc goddamn it really sells how serious that situation is. I love Hyrule Field's theme in this game. I love the Twilight Realm's song. Zant was fucking hilariously scary. Ganondorf's design in this game scared the piss out of me when I was younger.

Midna and this game's Link and Zelda are def my favorites. Yeah yeah, Sheik is cool and all I Guess but dhsushwishs Midna holds the special place in my heart. She was totally my gay awakening BUT

For other game antagonists, I adore Ghirahim-- let's go you funky little queer-coded villain. Skull Kid was great, I love the entire dynamic of him. Prankster lost soul stumbles upon Majora's Mask and the mask makes him act out due to powers-- which, I actually took very heavy inspiration from for one of my OCs. The moon falling to Hyrule was a fucking terrifying looming threat.

But the game series holds a place, and I've yet to be able to play BoTW-- although, I'm fairly certain I'll like it. The playthroughs I've watched of it are all fairly decent! I just. Gotta save up enough money to buy it haha.

Dang guess I gotta go watch a Twilight Princess playthrough again.

Honorable Mentions:

Avatar: the Last Airbender, specifically Book 3

my OCs definitely make me happy, they're my children and I'd ramble A LOT longer if given the chance WHEEZE

My friends, but I didn't add them here bc it's more fictional stuff, I presume

Baking. I love to bake cupcakes.

Painting is fun. I'm an artist and goddammit im going to use painting as an excuse to make a mess.

Fire. I rly like fire, down to a pyromaniac level. However, i hate the fires that happened to my home town, the Great Smokey Fires of 2016-- THAT pissed me off. How dare you burn mountain landscapes to the ground. Perish.

History. I'm a history nerd.

I'm also a science nerd.

But fuck math, I cannot comprehend math to save my life.

For some reason, I rly like learning how the human body works??? like did you know, organs are actually sticky when touched by a bare hand?? Did you?? How fucking cool is that.

Bakugan. I love Bakugan, esp the DS game. I love my Darkus Leonidas. Give me back the online world, you peasants-- I want my Darkus Dragonoid. (Also fuck all my friends from when I was in kindergarten- my theory that Alice was Masquerade was somewhat correct.)

[a-d-n-d-journal]

Game Session #5

Characters:

Bakunawa, dragonborn paladin; copper scales, chainmail, a longsword and shield

Zastu, dragonborn rogue; white scales almost completely covered in a hooded cape and mask, leather armor, short bow and shortsword + dagger

Rysiel, half-elf druid; simple clothing and leather armor, scimitar

Teir, tiefling warlock; vibrant gold skin and black hair w/silver highlights, horns, hooves, expensive-looking clothes and leather armor, carries a crossbow and a hand-axe but tries not to use them

For this game, Bakunawa’s player was at my place, while the others were remote (Teir and Rys-boy are roommates, so they play from the same place). Unfortunately, our guest-star from last game wasn't able to make it.

The battle of the orcs is still in play, but within a round or two, the players (and the remaining bandits, Xolkin, and Kella) are able to handily defeat them. From her perch on the windmill, Zastu fires her shortbow at the back of Gurrash, the orc leader—he lets out a guttural scream as he falls and promptly dies. The guards continue across the ladder and broken bridge, and start firing their crossbows at the remaining orcs from the break in the wall, killing at least one of them. Xolkin and Kella team up and take out the last orc harassing them with twin blade flurries. An Agonizing Blast from Teir kills another orc, and Bakunawa's sword decapitates the very last one.

Our adventurers gather together, joined by the guards, to take stock of their injuries. Everyone seemed to come out pretty okay! One of the guards—Sydiri—exclaims over having shot the one-eyed orc in his remaining eye. Rysiel is still in panther form, but the dragon skull on his head marks him as a creature they know. People are still uneasy, especially Xolkin and Kella, who try to ignore them. Meanwhile, Xolkin and his crew check over their three fallen comrades, and discover one still alive (the other two are cut in half), and stabilize him so he won't die. They bring him back to the inn and disappear for a while.

Rysiel suddenly remembers a strange sound coming from the house he leapt upon during the fight. He can't talk, but the others follow him over, since they haven't figured out what to do next. In his panther form, Rysiel smells out a feline scent within the rubble of the half-demolished house, eventually catching sight of a winged cat. One of the guards pipes up to tell the others that Rys-panther probably found the Tressym which belonged to the elderly couple there. (Who had moved to Nightstone at the request of Lady Nandar to be the village's notary) Rys-panther tried to encourage the Tressym to come out of hiding, but unfortunately the poor creature was too frightened by the predator. When provoked, the tressym let out a long hiss, and escaped through a small crack, flying up onto the roof and over the peak. Bakunawa climbed the rubble up to the roof and tried to lure it back with some chicken, but it didn't work, sending it bounding away to perch on the palisade encircling the village. Eventually Teir remembered something about their impressive intelligence and tried talking to it. Curious, the tressym flew back over to the house and started mewing. The adventurers, with the aid of the guards, started searching through the rubble and quickly found the crushed remains of the tressym's owners. The sad creature started mewing sadly, and the others decided to leave it to mourn in peace. Rsy-panther stuck around at a respectful distance, hoping to console or otherwise form a bond with the orphaned tressym.

Teir asks the remaining three adventurers to accompany him to the graveyard to investigate a vision he had in a dream, which he (correctly) believes came from his patron—The Raven Queen. At the village graveyard they find an above-ground crypt with the Nandar crest on the door—a golden fox with a rose in its mouth—but Teir sees a raven—a clear sign. The party briefly ponders how to get into the sealed structure. Zastu zones out for a moment, but Bakunawa pokes her and asks for her crowbar—an obvious solution. The paladin's muscles open yet another door. Inside is a simple wooden coffin with the Nandar crest again, and very sparse decoration upon the walls. Bakunawa hefts the crowbar again and gets started on the coffin, but before he finishes cracking the lid, they all hear a dreadful and ominous voice… "Velrosa…? Dear…? Is that you?" It calls out faintly. So faintly, the adventurers aren't sure they heard anything. It repeats. And repeats. Being the only woman, Zastu answers, pretending to be Lady Velrosa. An apparition of a middle-aged human man appears, full of arrows. It's the late Lord Drezlin Nandar! Bakunawa drops the crowbar and pulls out his sword. Zastu's ruse works for a moment, but then it doesn't… The specter grows angry and attacks! Teir manages to get off a crackling Eldrith Blast from behind Bakunawa. The energy flashes through the air and splashes against the translucent enemy, scoring a direct hit. The specter tries to reach for Bakunawa for some necrotic damage, but the paladin evades it and counters with an incredible Divine Smite, blasting the undead thing to dust and ending the combat before even Zastu can react. Teir checks the Nandar crest and sees that it is a proper fox and rose, while Zastu checks the coffin for loot (and finds none).

Meanwhile, the restless guards start looking through the rubble of demolished houses for survivors or bodies, uncovering and setting aside those they find.

Next, the adventurers moved on to the house with the door full of glyphs warning of a terrible demise. Teir recently learned "Detect Magic" and wanted to try it out, and the mystery was too much. Upon casting the spell though, he quickly discovered that the glyphs were only writing, but there was at least one source of magic within the house. Unfortunately, the build-up and hype upon approaching the house was too much for the rogue, and she refused to pick the lock on the door or shutters. Bakunawa picked up the slack though and he grabbed a discarded axe from an orc to break down the door in two heavy chops. The door shattered anti-climactically. Inside, Teir was drawn immediately to a solid gold holy symbol of Asmodeus—the patron devil-god of the Tieflings—a fact he kept to himself, as it seemed obvious at a casual investigation that the place had housed two Tieflings. His Sense Magic also uncovered a healing potion while Zastu searched via mundane methods and came away with a healing kit.

While the adventurers take a moment to decide on what to do next (deal with Xolkin and the bandits, or go find the villagers?) The guards take a break after digging out a crushed halfling man to come over and ask for help with the bandits. They're very nervous about them, and do not trust them at all. The adventurers agree. They already know that the bandits have retreated to the inn with one of their injured, while two of their dead lay neatly (though somewhat in pieces) just outside. They have the guards cover the side and rear exits—Alara and Kaelen at the western door, Sydiri and Torem in the kitchen—while they go in through the front. Teir uses Thaumaturgy to blast open the double-doors at the front of the Inn. Within the main common room, the bandits are on edge, but otherwise hide their surprise. They stand around a long table, upon which one of their own lies unconscious and wrapped in bandages. Xolkin steps away from the head of the table to confront the adventurers, and Kella steps into the shadows near the stairway. "What do you want?" "We want you to leave this village," Bakunawa replies, taking the lead. Xolkin shakes his head, hands resting on his weapons. "Can't do that. Nightstone belongs to the Zhentarim now. But maybe we can come to an understanding…" "Not a chance," Bakunawa interrupts. "I know your kind—unscrupulous mercenaries running protection rackets—this village has owners still." "I'm tired of this Holier-than-thou attitude coming from the Burning Dawn. You think you're better than us because you follow the rich in their caravans, protecting their princesses? You take their money all the same. Besides, all I see here is you, and us, and you have no claim…" Xolkin says. "I knew Lady Velrosa, she was kind to the people here, and protected them against the elves to the north. I have a much better claim than you, and I won't let Nightstone fall to the Black Network!" Teir shouts. "Ugh, you nobles are so… Ugh, just Shut Up. You go around claiming everything because of money, forgetting the elves that lived here before the humans came." Xolkin eyes the adventurers—not one of them is human, but, then, his own half-elf heritage is obvious as well. "We're going to ask you again, leave Nightstone," Bakunawa demands. He takes his sword out. Xolkin points a dagger at them. "No." "Ooooh, a dagger, so scared." Teir mocks, and snaps his fingers—his Thaumaturgy slams the door to the kitchen shut and make loose items rattle. The bandits fan out around the common room expertly. "Oooh, a Teifling Warlock, how scary," Xolkin scoffs, "and predictable—the rich demon taking the shortcut to power." Teir flares in anger and the doors start slamming open and closed rapidly. One of the bandits loses his nerve, and fires a crossbow bolt, hitting Teir squarely in the shoulder. Teir reacts, automatically covering that bandit in hellfire. The bandit falls, screaming. Xolkin springs forward yelling obscenities about how much he hates the rich, slashing Teir twice with his scimitar and dropping the Teifling in seconds. With his third attack, he stabs at Bakunawa—who tried to interject his shield but failed—with his dagger, but doesn't get through the paladin's armor. From the side entrance, Guard Alara knocks open the door and attacks the bandit there with her spear, but the bandit dodges as he senses the door move. Unfortunately for him, Guard Sydiri is right behind the other door (to the kitchen), and jumps in to score a deadly hit with her own spear, spilling blood. Bakunawa gets to retaliate against Xolkin with his sword, gaining Advantage as Zastu distracts the bandit leader from around the corner of the door; but the bandit leader seems to shrug off the direct slash from the sword. Zastu takes the opening, scoring her own hit (with sneak attack damage!), but Xolkin is only concerned with attacking. Kella drops her crossbow to respond to the closer threat, brandishing her shortsword against Sydiri. She attacks twice, dealing sneak attack damage and knocking the guard into unconsciousness with the pain and blood loss. One of the bandits in the middle of the room shoots a bolt at Guard Alara, scoring a hit. Guard Kaelen steps into the room and tries to help, but his spear fails to find its mark. (Teir succeeds on a death save) Xolkin focuses on Bakunawa for an entire round, missing with his first scimitar attack, but scoring hits on his second and a crit with the dagger. The already injured paladin falls unconscious. (Bakunawa succeeds on a death save with Inspiration) Guard Alara tries to attack the bandit near Kella, but misses. A second bandit fires a bolt at her, causing her to lose consciousness. Seeing the second of her companions fall (not to mention two guards), Zastu retreats, using her action to disengage, her movement to get around the corner of the building, and her bonus action to Stealth (hide) outta here. Kella slices and dices the remaining guard, Kaelen, knocking him unconscious as well. Torem stands near the door from the kitchen, just in time to see this all happen, and books it out the back door. Xolkin stands over the two adventurers he knocked out. "I tried to avoid this you know." He raises his voice. "I'm not an unreasonable person! Hand over your weapons and your gold, and I'll let you leave unharmed." No response from Zastu or anyone else. (Teir fails a death save with Inspiration) (Bakunawa fails a death save) "You could have joined us. Really, you didn't do too badly, you were just outclassed," Xolkin motions for one of his mooks to bandage take care of the one bandit who fell to Teir's hellfire. He motions for another, to come over with more bandages. "I'm not going to kill you, or let your friends die. If you don't come get them now, good luck finding them later." He gets to work on bandaging Bakunawa and Teir while Kella looks after the three guards lying at her feet. One of the three bandit mooks standing helps her. (In D&D mechanics, this is a stabilize action; all characters are at either -1 or 0 HP right now) Xolkin, full of confidence after his victory, doesn't bother to investigate around the corner of the building. He's assumed that Zastu has run off somewhere, but she's listening in: "I want someone with Yasheira and Silifrey until they regain consciousness, and since no one should be alone while that weird-looking dragonborn is out there, stay in pairs, leaving only two teams…" "Don't forget about that fourth guard, and the druid was a wild cat last I saw him," Kella reminds him. Xolkin nods. "Right. Keep your guard up. Let's get these bodies into the cart outside." "The cart with all the weapons and shit from the goblins?" One of the bandits asks. "Yeah, is that going to be a problem?" Xolkin glares. "No, just makin' sure. We takin' the orc's stuff too?" "Yes, but don't worry it right now, or about emptying the cart, we'll take a couple of the plow horses from the stables and hook them up. After that I want Dorn and Dona to take them to the forest and dump these losers somewhere. Maybe the orcs or goblins will take care of them. Maybe the elves, but I don't want any more lives on our hands." "And don't forget their weapons and gold," he adds.

Spells cast:

Teir: Eldritch Blast, Hellish Rebuke Bakunawa: Divine Smite (technically not a spell, but it uses up a spell slot)

Killcount:

Bakunawa: 1 orc, 1 Specter Teir: 1 orc (the bandit isn't quite dead, but he doesn't know this) Zastu: 1 orc Rysiel: 0

Treasure looted:

Healing kit

Healing potion

Gold symbol of Asmodeus

32 gp and 17 sp

STOLEN:

From Teir:

Light Crossbow

Bolts x20

Handaxe

Purse (??? gp, sp, cp)

Three-Dragon Ante playing cards (extra loot)

Gold Asmodeus Symbol (extra loot)

(they overlook Teir's dagger, a small knife, and both potions and antitoxin)

From Bakunawa:

Longsword

Shield

Javelin x5

Shortbow

Arrows x20

Purse (??? gp, sp, cp)

Gemstone (extra loot)

From Kaelen, Alara, and Sydiri:

Spear x3

Shield x3

[dipperscavern]

What happened to your ankle? Did @eldrith push you down the stairs? Did you hurt it when you were in her walls and you tried to escape through an air conditioning vent and she shoved you back inside with her foot?

Or when you crawled out of the well on your bloody bare hands and feet like the ring? You finally managed to crawl out and you see her there waiting for you at the top and she just slaps her palm on your forehead and you fell all the way back down as your ankle snaps like a piece of balsa wood

so this is a really hard thing for me to do. a really hard story for me to tell. the wound is still fresh; smoking in the nights cold air. do i want to tell the truth, even if it means detaching from my captor? my captor, whose home has become mine? she is my anchor, and the sea i drown in, do i dare swim on my own?

🏊‍♀️

i tried to escape. i had finished my day observing her through the air vents, through the walls, and i was visited. i was visited by the angel and devil on my shoulder, aka tow mater and abby lee miller. usually, i take medicine to keep them at bay, but @eldrith had forgotten to flush my pill down the toilet so i could get it.

“Don’t you tell her!” tow mater said, but abby didn’t listen.

“Dipper, you better show that ungrateful little non-cartwheeling hag what you’re made of. She owes you a debt, your freedom!”

“Awh- now, we have a good life here! Observin’…. an’, an’ makin friends with the dust bunnies…” tow mater sounded more discouraged the more he spoke. abby only shook her head, hands on her hips. the next words she spoke, are ones i never want to hear again.

“Moms better have my money!”

i wanted to be good, to pass eldriths test of loyalty with flying colors. but abby spoke; and i knew, subconsciously, my choice had already been made.

she better have my money.

the rest… it’s… it’s too painful. but i will continue if my people wish it so, as i have a duty to the realm.

[a-d-n-d-journal]

Game Session #4

Characters:

Bakunawa, dragonborn paladin; copper scales, chainmail, a longsword and shield

Zastu Qqs, dragonborn rogue; white scales almost completely covered in a hooded cape and mask, leather armor, short bow and shortsword + dagger

Rysiel, half-elf druid; simple clothing and leather armor, scimitar

Teir Maccailleach, tiefling warlock; vibrant gold skin and black hair w/silver highlights, horns, hooves, expensive-looking clothes and leather armor, carries a crossbow and a hand-axe but tries not to use them

Guest starring...

Xolkin Alassandar, half-elf bandit leader; rougishly handsome, vibrant green winged snake on his shoulder, leather armor, scimitar and dagger

Kella Darkhope, human probably-not-actually-a-monk; blonde, weilds a crossbow

I had a friend help me out with the NPCs, and it worked out well. We'll probably do the same again later. For this game, I was at Bakunawa's player's place, while the others were remote.

The party wakes to the sound of a rooster crowing in their barracks. After a few seconds of disorientation, Teir shoots it with Eldrith Blast, spraying rooster guts and blood all over the nearest bunk (which is thankfully empty). Zastu tries to run away from the guts and blood, but runs directly into a guard coming to wake them. A group of people has entered the village! The adventurers rush outside into the brightening gloom (the sun has barely risen) to see if they can make out anything. Unfortunately, the walls of the village are in the way and they hear the crank of the drawbridge being raised. Teir sends his spectral raven into the village to scout, but the newcomers are too far away for him to see through his raven's eyes. The raven returns with vague information--its not very good at human things--counting eight peoples and seven horses, with one of the peoples being the same blonde one from the inn. The adventurers retract the ladder and go back inside to deliberate, though Zastu stays outside to keep watch. Inside the fort's study and lounge, Teir convinces Rysiel to check out the skulls mounted on the space the landing creates between the first and second floors. Rysiel, being a half-elf, is the only one of the part who lacks horns, and wouldn't it be great if he tried one on? Only the dragon-skull fits though, and it looks pretty cool! It works well as a helmet, seeming to fit his head just right, and he has the sense that he feels more protected (but he's not sure how) Bakunawa doesn't try to hide his disgust, and Rysiel tries to remove the skull... But it just slides around his head a bit. It doesn't get stuck on his ears or anything, but... He can't take it off. The half-elf lets out a half-hearted curse. They got back to discussing what to do. Time passes. They can't stay holed up in the fort forever (though there is food available). The people on the other side... Maybe they're nice? And they're going to figure out the ladder trick if they wait long enough... A rooster crows. Rysiel points at Teir accusingly. "Don't kill this one!" Teir puts up his hands. "Fine! But make it stop!" A rooster crows again. And again. And again, before Rysiel finds it behind a chair and picks it up. A rooster stops crowing. "I shall name him Jest," he declares.

Eventually they go back outside (leaving Jest behind) and Teir sends his raven out again. The sun is brightening the sky now. The newcomers are looting the village, going in and out of the trading post and the inn, checking out the stable, and gathering up the weapons the goblins had (shortbows, arrows, scimitars). Zastu reports the dying screams of a couple goblins. The adventurers place the ladder back on the gap in the bridge and cross to the other side. They cross into the village, and a shadow moves off to the side. Within a few seconds, they are met by a rougishly handsome half-elf, standing with Kella and six other ruffian-looking people. The leader looks them up and down, his eyes lingering on the paladin. Teir tries to greet them, but is interrupted. "What are you doing in my town?" The leader sneers at the Tiefling in noble's clothing. The rest of the conversation goes downhill from there. The leader introduces himself as Xolkin, and claims Nightstone for the "Black Network". The gears turn in Bakunawa's head. He knows of the Black Network through his mercenary connections. He tries to claim the town for the "Red Network", but Xolkin calls his bluff. Two of the bandits disappear and reappear to their sides, flanking them. Teir decides it's a good idea to send a 'warning' blast near one of them. But the others ready their crossbows, and they outnumber our adventurers, so eventually they negotiate an exit.

The bandits escort them to the two towers flanking the drawbridge, and let it down... But the adventurers are just over halfway across when they hear a faint rumbling coming from the north and the forest in the distance. They wait as the sound becomes louder. Suddenly, a small horde of orcs burst from the treeline! The adventurers stare at them dumbly for a moment as they run toward them. "Do they look mad?" Teir asks. "They look mad," Zastu replies. "Yeah, but are they running toward us, or away from something?" Teir insists. "At this point, I don't think that matters, let's get back inside," Rysiel says. They run back inside and burst into the watchtowers to raise the drawbridge. Startled, the bandits don't resist. Xolkin demands to know the meaning of this, but his face hardens at the mention of orcs. He orders his people up the ladders in the towers and onto the roofs. The orcs very quickly arrive at the end of the road near where the drawbridge had rested briefly. Those atop the towers can hear the rough orcish being spoken as two of the orcs, dressed in war and ceremonial gear the others lack, shout and point at the bridge and towers. One of them is quite huge, and many arrows pierce his flesh and armor. They don't seem to bother him much.

The disbelief of the bandits and adventurers causes them to hesitate. By the time they realize they should be raining arrows and bolts on the orcs, the small horde starts to fan out and explore the bank of the lake/moat. As the orcs slowly surround the village, the bandit group disperses to keep an eye on them. After about ten minutes, the orcs are spotted swimming across the moat to the broken bridge between Village and Fort. The boulder that took out the bridge has also taken out many of the protections to prevent stuff like this, so the orcs start climbing. The bandits take up a formation inside the village with orders to shoot on sight, but there isn't much cover. The adventurers hang out on the bridge, raining down a few attacks before retreating. Rysiel casts Ice Knife, killing one orc outright and knocking it off the scaffolding, while injuring two others. Seconds later two more heads pop up over the edge of the bridge and get an Eldritch Blast and an arrow to the face. They keep coming.

On the fort-side of the bridge, the guards have retracted the ladder and start shooting their own crossbows at the orcs. The seconds pass slowly. For a moment, the adventurers are able to kill the orcs as they come up in twos and threes. Then one makes it past the edge of the bridge into the village and is struck down by a bolt from one of Xolkin's bandits. A second orc follows, moving at an incredible speed (orcs have 'Aggressive' as a bonus action, allowing them to move at-speed toward an enemy they can see; that means, if they don't attack, they have Move action for 30ft, Dash action in lieu of Attack for another 30ft, AND Aggressive for 30ft, making a 90ft DASH IN ONE ROUND) The orcs start to pour in.

The guards aren't doing a very good job of shooting them in the back, either. They're just poor peons... Then they spot a strange-looking orc rest against the embankment on the far side, squinting at them with one eye. The embankment is too steep to climb, but he manages to prop himself up and is weaving his hands in rough gestures. Suddenly! A glowing spear appears in mid-air next to one of the guards! And attacks! The guards try to fight back, but the spear seems impervious, so they start shooting at the orc spellcaster.

The bandits fall back, shooting their crossbows. The adventurers also fall back, leaning on their strengths: Zastu climbs the hill on which the windmill sits, and shoots her shortbow. Nearby, Teir has retreated between a house and a field further back, shooting Eldritch Blasts. Bakunawa casts Shield of Faith and tanks 3 and 4 orcs at a time as they reach him. Rysiel disappears behind a house, and appears on the roof as a Panther with a dragon skull still on his head, growling in defiance. The orcs pour in. There must be about ten of them now... A dozen... And a hulking form comes through the break in the wall, charging at Xolkin and the bandits. Gurrash is full of arrows, and he doesn't care. He shouts in a roar that rivals the panther, and the orcs are bolstered. Then he swings his greataxe and cuts a bandit in half. Other orcs crash and overwhelm the humans, but they're still dying. Some of the bandits turn and run. Another one is cut to bloody pieces. A bright green line of acid splashes through the line of orcs from atop the hill. Zastu wipes her mouth, embarassed, and disappears into the windmill. Xolkin quaffs a thick, viscous liquid and steps forward with scimitar and dagger. Two orcs fall to his blades in seconds. Bakunawa draws a few of the orcs into another field, lightening the pressure on Xolkin's forces. Rice-panther leaps and pounces, ripping into Bakunawa's foes, the two of them working together for the advantage. Another bandit dies, but so do three more orcs. Four take their place. Zastu reappears from a window within the windmill, and starts shooting arrows (stepping around the two goblin corpses inside). Teir manages to take out another orc from an incredible distance, and a bandit pops out from the same house Rysiel disappeared behind--and fires his own crossbow. Another of Xolkin's bandits drops, and another runs, shooting behind him. Xolkin himself goes toe-to-toe with Gurrash, nimbly avoiding most of the big orc's attacks, and dealing his own. The two of them exchange blows at a faster rate than the others, and the orc's blows could cut a man in two without trying. Bakunawa and Rysiel are suddenly free, and the paladin moves into position. A long gout of fire bursts from his mouth, hitting five orcs in a line. None of them fall right away, but the bolts of Xolkin's remaining bandits find them and put them down. Rysiel pounces in and out, taking out another before Bakunawa is swarmed--Xolkin and the others starting to fall back again.

Meanwhile, at the bridge, the one-eyed orc spell caster has stayed behind the others, directing his spectral weapon to attack the guards. The guards retaliate, shooting bolt after bolt into him, but he just laughs. The guard, Sydiri, lines up a shot, betting if she could just shoot out his other eye... The bolt flies, and she succeeds. The floating spectral spear disappers as the orc screams in pain. The other guards shoot a couple more bolts, but half of them miss as the orc totters back and forth over the bridge. Then he takes one wrong step... And falls from the bridge, hitting the rocks beneath the surface of the water. He thrashes for a moment, and disappears. The guards cheer, and rush to put the ladder back in place, so they can go help. Torem crosses and Alara stumbles a bit on the rungs, not falling, but slowing their progress.

The orc forces are dwindling. There are eight of them left, including Gurrash. Two bandits are drastically wounded, and try to retreat while a third ducks in and out from behind a house, still uninjured. At some point, Kella appeared, shooting her own crossbow into the mess. Xolkin is bleeding, but he seems fine, protected by the magic of his potion. Four of the remaining orcs surround him. Gurrash looks about ready to fall apart, but his anger has shifted to the paladin and the panther who had just taken out so many seconds before, and he can still swing his waraxe. Three orcs are in front of the boss, but the paladin's armor aborbs their hits, then Gurrash pushes them aside to get at him, taking a chunk out of his hide. But Gurrash is on his last legs--Bakunawa's sword swings, and the big orc stumbles back--but he's still standing. Teir--somehow--blasts one of the orcs around Bakunawa and Rysiel, and Zastu's arrows continue to soar their way. In a flurry of bladework, Xolkin stabs and slashes at the orcs surrounding him, dropping three of them in two seconds. Only one left.

---At this point, it was after 11pm, and people had to sleep, so we wrapped up with 5 orcs still standing, including Gurrash--

Spells cast:

Rysiel: Ice Knife, Druidcraft Teir: Eldritch Blast (lots) Bakunawa: Shield of Faith Orc spellcaster: Spiritual Weapon

Killcount:

I kinda lost count of who-killed-what... 3 goblins died from the bandits, before the adventurers arrived--two in the windmill, and one in a tower 16 orcs died from the adventurers, guards, and bandits

Treasure looted:

Shortbows, arrows, and scimitars from the goblin corpses

One cursed/magical dragon skull

Left behind:

Who knows???