#imagine my shock when he opened up to me after the tiefling kid at the harpers when i didn't just tell the kid to stop crying lol

[ghost-proofbaby]

yeah that was me. i had to replay like ten hours of the game but i finally FINALLY managed to get with astarion… just to end up wanting to be with gale instead 😵‍💫

i wish i could show you the shock on my face.

no jk jk jk gale is.... he grew on me. at first i was on that ridiculous train of hating him just because it was funny, but he always ends up the bestie of all my tavs/durges. also, according to tik tok, there's a very real "astarion to gale" pipeline. i just think me and the wizard are too damn similar for me to love him to the extent that i love astarion.

gale can hang... he's on thin ice, but he can certainly hang <3

[leighsartworks216]

Horn Care

Wyll Ravengard x male!OC

I have had this fic in the works for a while. It's just a little self-indulgent story of my dnd bard, Romero, with Wyll, with some stuff about his family and whatnot

I would love to answer any questions y'all may have about Romero's family because I love them sm

Dedicated to both @tripleyeeet and @shenanigans-and-imagines for listening to me ramble about these idiots <333

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and food, possibly OOC

Word Count: 1,266

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Romero diligently rubbed the oil over Wyll’s horns, skillfully getting within every groove and crevice. Wyll holds the bottle of high-grade horn oil (though he’s not sure where exactly the bard procured it from), squirting extra in the bard’s hand whenever he asks for more.

Wyll can’t believe for one second this is his first time doing this. And yet, the who for is the biggest question. He wonders if it was learned from caring for past lovers, or even friends who needed an extra hand. It shocks Wyll just how truly little he knows about the person leading them; the person he’s decided to court - properly, if he’s ever given the chance.

“I can feel you thinking,” Romero teases. He’s running his fingers along the undersides of the horns, feeling to ensure he got every spot. “Anything you want to share?”

“I can’t help noticing your distinct lack of horns. How do you know how to do this? Something you picked up on your travels?”

He chuckles. “No. I’ve been doing this since I was little.” Once he’s certain the horns have been fully taken care of, he rounds the stool Wyll sits on, borrowed from Astarion (with promises of two carafes of good wine. A hefty price for one little stool, but worth it, he thinks). He drops the bottle of oil, closed securely, into his pack and plops down on the floor of the tent, leaning back against his arms. “One of my parents, Amrus, is a tiefling. I was always fascinated with his horns. He’d pick me up on his shoulders and carry me around, and I’d hold on and steer him around.”

Wyll could almost picture it. A little boy with unruly hair motioning to be picked up, coming up with imaginative stories, pretending to be riding a dragon. He couldn’t imagine much changed in the years leading up to this moment.

“Well, he adopted some tieflings, too. Wild, little things. And we’re a big, busy family, so I offered to help out. As their horns came in, I took care of them, until they were old enough to learn how to themselves.” Romero smiled fondly, remembering his childhood with nostalgia. He could tell stories for hours of mischief he got up to, fighting with his siblings, whacking people with sticks when they disrespected any of his family. “You get quite good at it when you do it for years.”

“It’s an admirable skill to have, if only for how it was learned. Its uses are a bit… limited.”

“Unless I happen to be with someone in possession of horns,” the bard says, smirking up at the warlock. “Results of a deal with a devil or otherwise.”

–

“If you don’t mind my prying, how many parents do you have? You mention them a lot.”

The moon casts them in a cool glow. Light bounces off Wyll’s horns. The open amusement of the bard is perfectly accentuated, as though the shadows pull back just so he can be admired.

“Ah, plenty. Let’s see, are we counting all of them, or just the ones my father is married to?”

Wyll chuckles. “All of them, to start.”

Romero begins ticking off fingers, listing names as he went in a low murmur. He didn’t stop even after he ran out of fingers. “Twelve, technically.” Wyll gaped at him.

“Twelve parents?! How do you keep them all straight?”

“Well, not all of them live with us at one time. I only grew up around six of them; the other four live elsewhere, traveling or providing shelter to any of us kids who happen to wander in their areas. The last two have passed - and the mindflayer only counts as a parent because of my father’s insistence.”

“A mindflayer?!” He pushed himself up so he could gape down at his partner. “Your father was with one of those rubber-skinned Ilithids?!”

“Eh, it’s one of his stranger exploits.” Romero smirked, as though he’d gone through this exact bewilderment before. Though, Wyll supposes he must’ve done. “You haven’t even asked how many siblings I have.”

“I can’t begin to fathom.” He sighed, mentally preparing himself. “How many?”

Romero looks far too eager to share the number. “Eighteen.”

“How do you all fit in that house?!”

“My father and some of my parents help him build new additions. You should see it - it’s about as chaotic as the people who live in it.”

He gestured grandly, hands telling the story as much as his words. Wyll could picture him standing on a table in a tavern, spinning wild tales to enraptured guests all night long. It was like a fire lit in his eye. A spring added itself into his every motion.

“It reaches as high as any palace, built of hand-hewn planks and sun-dried bricks. The thundering of stairs as we all come racing down for Pimbul’s cooking - she’s the best damn cook, and he always makes plenty of extra. Laughter and music pouring out of every window, every balcony, every door - the sound of our love uncontainable.” He sighed wistfully, hands falling back at his side. “As soon as this is over, I’m headed straight back. I’ve been gone for too long.”

Wyll smiled. Romero poured affection for his family any time they came up, which was surprisingly often. An eight-pointed star on his chest denoted himself as a child of the famous Gerhart Tulb, adventurer and well-known flirt. Any time they weren’t in armor, his shirt was opened to proudly display the tattoo. Which meant everywhere they weren’t fighting, there was someone who recognized it. He always used it as an opportunity to relay the tales his father had told of his own adventures, and one’s he’d picked up from his siblings along the road. It was admirable.

“How long have you been away?” he asks as he lays back down. Though, his eyes don’t stray from him, even as the stars glimmer and flicker, begging for his attention.

Romero sighs and turns onto his side. “Almost a year. I know that’s not a very long time,” he offers Wyll a sympathetic smile, “I just miss everyone so much.”

“You’ll have a lot to share when you see them again.” Wyll rolls over as well, though his horns make it difficult to actually be comfortable. They were nice and shiny from his partner’s careful hands, but they were still a damned nuisance. “Grandiose tales of tadpoles and curses, of love and loss. The perfect story.”

“A story’s only as good as the person telling it.” He frowned, reaching out to hesitantly take Wyll’s hand. Calluses roughened his fingertips from his lute. Even more covered his palm from battles hard fought. “I don’t know how this story will end,” he begins slowly, almost a whisper, “but if–” He squeezes Wyll’s hand. “-- when we win, I wanted to bring you back with me. All of you, if I can. I know it’s a lot to ask, to drag all of you back on the road, but-”

Wyll squeezed his hand with a bright smile. “We’d all be glad to meet them. I can only imagine how a reunion with a family of bards must be.”

Romero grinned, sitting up and eagerly launching into another story. Wild descriptions of dancing and singing and drinking that lasted for an entire week. About a dance that all the kids did for the parents involving swords and drums. Fireworks, illusions, and so, so much more. Wyll could almost picture it all. And even crazier: he could almost picture himself there at Romero’s side.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Very Okay

I was consumed with the urge to write some domestic smut so here's some soft dads Widomauk just banging it out at the end of a long week. Huge thanks to my wonderful enablers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short

-------------

Please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3!

-------------

“...and then Una said next week she’s swimming for her Level 2 badge and she’s a little nervous, she’s got to go a whole lap. She’ll be fine, of course, but she has that whole thing about putting her head underwater so we need to make sure we keep an eye on her.”

Molly nodded, shifting so his tail wasn’t trapped under his leg, “She’ll do a wonderful job, she goes through the water like a shark. Literally, with the teeth…”

“And Trinket needs a costume put together, it’s World Book Day on Friday and apparently preschool kids have Fairy Tales as their theme? So I was thinking we could just swipe something from when your theatre group did Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s a little short notice and I thought that would save you having to sew something new.”

“Yeah, he loves messing around back there anyway,” Molly nodded, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear, trying to angle his chest forward, “So, um…”

“Oh!” Caleb’s finger shot into the air, sending a wave of water over the edge of the tub, “Before I forget! I have to take the kittens to get their vaccinations at the vets tomorrow so if you could watch the bookstore for me, that would be such a huge help.”

“Of course baby, I can do that, but don’t you think we should maybe-”

“Thank you! I promise I’ll be super quick, I have this thing at the Academy, apparently professors are supposed to go to parties? That wasn’t on the job description-”

“Caleb,” Molly couldn’t help himself, reaching up and taking hold of his husband’s face, doing his absolute best not to laugh, “Listen, I love catching up with you but this is our date night and you were kind of about to start fucking me and it seems we’ve stalled a little? If we could get back on that, it would be great.”

Caleb took a few long, slow blinks, his eyes then travelling around him like he was only just noticing the fact that he was sharing a bathtub, naked, pressed up against his equally naked husband. Or rather, remembering that he was, it seemed like he’d been pretty into the idea when he’d been tearing Mollymauk’s clothes off and tipping him into the water.

“Oh,” his face flushed so quickly it can’t have had anything to do with the heat of the water, “I’m killing the mood, aren’t I?”

That was all of Molly’s available composure, he snorted as laughter tore it’s way out of his chest, sending his head knocking back against the rim of the tub. After a few moments, Caleb started giggling too, helplessly putting his hands over his face.

“I mean, it started well,” Molly cackled, hugging his arms around himself, as it happened sharing a tub between two people didn’t leave much water to cover you, “Y’know, growling that you were going to touch me until I screamed, that was a real good start to date night? It only went South when you started coordinating our schedules…”

Caleb groaned, tilting forward until he was resting his head on Molly’s shoulder, strands of hair falling out of his bun and drinking the water, “Sorry...There was just one thing I wanted to tell you and then it kept going.”

“It’s alright,” Molly chuckled, still cradling his head, pressing his lips to his head, “I do feel like we’ve hardly talked this week.”

“That’s just it!” Caleb sighed, melting a little in his husband’s arms, gingerly letting him take his weight, “Between the store and now me being an associate professor and you doing tech week, I feel like I only see you when I bump into you in the hallway.”

Molly had to admit he was right. Of course he was endlessly proud of his husband, the fact that he’d had the courage to even step over the threshold of the Soltryce Academy after everything he’d been through there, let alone accept a job and try and make the place better, was incredible. Making this huge step in his recovery all while maintaining the little bookstore he’d been running for the last few years, coming home tired and smiling every day, satisfied and certain of his place in the world. It was everything Molly had wanted for him.

But he couldn’t lie, he was starting to miss him.

Mollymauk smiled softly as he traced his fingers through his hair, “Well, I’m kind of glad it’s not just me who was thinking that...that’s kind of why I asked if we could make tonight a date night.”

Molly felt Caleb deflate a little in his arms, “And I turned it into some kind of press conference. I’m sorry, Mollymauk.”

Starting to purr, the tiefling’s tail found its way around Caleb’s leg, squeezing like some kind of comforting snake, “I’ll hear no apologies from you, Mr Caleb. What I wanted was to spend time with you and that’s what I’ve got. Minus clothes too, which is a nice bonus.”

Caleb made a soft, decisive noise, pulling himself back up, bracing his hands on the rim of the bath either side of Molly’s head.

“But if I went back to that whole ‘touch you until you scream’ thing? Would that be alright?” his smile turned crooked.

Molly unsuccessfully suppressed an undignified squeak of mixed shock and arousal, his smile flaring into a full blown grin.

“Oh that would be pretty okay too, yeah.”

Caleb gave one of those rough, rumbling laughs that Molly loved so much, the ones that only came out when Molly knew he was about to become the sole focus of Caleb’s not inconsiderable attention, when the brain that normally went in ten different directions and most of those on other planes of reality, was about to zero in on him and him alone.

Molly yelped as he felt surprisingly strong arms slide under him and lift him out of the water, sending rain pattering down from their bodies.

“Babe!” Molly locked his arms around his shoulders like a vice, “This is romantic and all but you’ve got skinny noodle arms!”

“Charming,” Caleb snorted, “You don’t weigh all that much, Liebling. I won’t drop you.”

Before Molly could properly address his doubt about that- he’d once watched his husband struggle for twenty minutes to open a jar of peanut butter that wasn’t even new- they were moving, water scattering generously along the hallway. Apparently lifting books all day was better for your upper body strength than Mollymauk had realised because, true to his word, Molly wasn’t dropped until he was tumbled into bed, Caleb following pretty soon after.

Eagerly he dragged him closer, pressing their lips together, barely letting a heartbeat pass before he slid his tongue across Caleb’s. He hiked his legs up around his husband’s waist like he was anchoring him there, like any bare inch between their bodies was just unbearable. Caleb’s hands felt like they were everywhere, so much so that Molly wasn’t convinced there wasn’t magic involved. Just the warm, roughened touch of his broad hands sliding across his shoulders, following the curve of his spine to press their bodies closer, kneading the softness of his thighs. Everywhere he needed him, Caleb was there and still it didn’t feel like enough.

Almost the exact moment he had that thought, he was turning, rolling, until suddenly he was on top and Caleb was grinning wickedly up at him, his normally bright blue eyes dark with want.

“Want to ride my tongue, Liebling?” he purred roughly, knowing the answer full well but still wanting to hear him say it.

Molly obliged him, whimpering, “Oh fuck yes.”

It wasn’t that people would look at Mollymauk and expect him to always prefer the dominant role in bed, he was well aware of the vibes he gave off and cultivated them carefully (though if anyone were to let their gaze linger more closely they’d notice the two fingernails on his right hand kept deliberately short). It was more that they would notice Caleb, hiding behind his hair and hunching his shoulders and never speaking above a low murmur and never imagine him as the kind of person to take control. Of anything really, let alone someone like Molly. He didn’t look like he could command a one person canoe in a swimming pool.

How little they knew.

Molly gripped the headboard so hard that the nails he did keep long and wickedly sharp bit into the wood, levering himself up a little, bracketing Caleb’s head with his knees. He hovered at first, even as his thighs trembled with anticipation, with the intense sensation of those eyes examining him meticulously. Suddenly he was incredibly aware of how wet he was, conscious of every bead of slick, every pulse of heat through him, the stiffness of his cock.

No one would look at Caleb and see a man capable of nearly making his husband come from eyes alone.

“So cruel of me to make you wait,” Caleb’s voice was a rumble in his chest, “And yet you look so beautiful when you’re desperate…”

“Caleb,” Molly whined, teeth gritted, the lightest brush of his husband’s breath enough to make him beg shamelessly, “Please.”

“My apologies,” Caleb’s accent got noticeably thicker when he was turned on, like the part of his brain usually keeping him in Common was slipping. Or perhaps he just knew it drove Molly wild, “Just admiring…”

He took hold of Molly’s thighs and pulled him down, until Molly felt the rough scrape of his beard against his flesh, the contact after so long waiting wrenching a soft cry from him. Then he felt his wizard’s lips part, his tongue, warmer, trace a teasing path between the valley of him and the cry became a throaty moan. He couldn’t help it, almost immediately he was rocking his hips, seeking more, every nerve ending screaming for it.

Caleb tapped his thigh smartly, half in warning that he hadn’t given permission, half in warning that- while drowning in him would be a rather pleasant way to go- he’d prefer not to go at all if the option was there. Molly forced himself to still, even as it made him ache between the legs, tipping his head back and taking deep, desperate gulps of air.

Back in control, Caleb rewarded him with broad, generous strokes of his tongue, keeping it flat so Molly felt every inch of it. He took his cock in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue, scraping lightly with his teeth, kissing and lapping and sucking like he was eating some fruit. Finally, he found his entrance, probing gently and then far less gently, pulling him close so he could plunge deeper.

Molly was as vocal as ever, clinging to the headboard for dear life, tail stiff and straight in the air. He’d learned, he kept his hips still but there was no need, Caleb was in control. He rocked him back and forth, using every ounce of this surprising strength, giving Mollymauk everything he needed, leaving him nothing left to take.

Molly’s frantic, formless moans and screams haphazardly threw themselves into something close to words, “Caleb, I...oh fuck, baby, I’m...gonna…”

Through the haze of it all, he felt two quick taps on his thigh, Caleb’s affirmative answer. His signal that it was okay to fall, that Caleb would catch him.

And so he did. A last scream tearing its way from his raw throat, Molly’s shoulders locked and his chin hit his chest as it all rolled through him, as it lit him up from the inside out. He couldn’t have said how long it lasted, only that when it was done with him he felt as exhausted as he ever had. Enough that when he started to sway too hard and fell, he didn’t have the strength to catch himself.

But Caleb did. Moving quickly, he sat up and wrapped his arms around his husband, snagging him before he could tumble off the bed.

“Easy there…” he panted, grinning.

Molly’s eyelids felt leaden but he couldn’t bear not to look at Caleb right now, smiling wonkily back and leaning into his embrace, “You are fucking magical.”

Caleb giggled, gently laying him down against the pillows, curling on his side beside him. The lower half of his face was shining in the low light, his smile soft and shy and sweet again. Molly reached up and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, like he was worried he would disappear if he didn’t.

Caleb caught his wrist, turning his head and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I’m right here, Liebling. I’m right here.”

Molly exhaled in gentle relief, his eyes slowly gaining focus, “You...lie next to me. Tell me everything you want to tell me, all about your day, all about...everything. I just want to listen to you. And then when my brain puts itself together it's your turn. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, eyes wide and eager and loving, “Very okay.”

[bluejaytaco]

Jay plays DND Part...4?

(Losing track of how many of these were done. Also, this one’s hella long)

So, recent session was Art at his finest.

We are now up to a part with two generals. One of them is Art’s sister, Rieta (Known as General Pink). Her mind is completely broken to the point of making her basically a beast-like berserker. The second general is Orange, who Art has taken to calling “General Fedora.” He is the definition of a neckbeard mixed with r/iamverysmart.

But his ability is to take the will away from opponents and control them like puppets. And, when Art tried to get Rieta away from him, Orange showed off said abilities. By taking control of Art, Theodora(Paladin and Team leader) and Hennessy(Wizard.) We had to attack Koejin(Ranger) and our new barbarian gnome, Wreybar, then roll to see if we could break the spell. This is how it went down:

Me: So, I’m gonna cast Vicious Mockery.

DM, knowing me too well: You remember the rule for that, right?

Me(Agreed that I have to insult for real to use it:) Yeah, I know...

DM: Go ahead then.

Me: I look at Koejin and say, “Hey, Drunkie. You gonna attack or just stand there looking stupid?”

Koejin’s player: Woooooow...... Not gonna lie, that stings a little.

DM: Watch Art snap out of the spell and go “Hey Drunkie, fuck you.... I’m sorry....”

(He didn’t snap out of it. Hennessy did after Koejin cast Fog cloud so we couldn’t see.)

Hennessy: Okay, I’m going to cast Charm person on Theodora and Art.

Theodora’s roll: *Passes*

My Roll: *Fails*

DM: Okay, so Theodora just brushes it off. Art now has two controlling spells fighting in his head. He wants to listen to Orange and fight you, but also really doesn’t want to hurt Hennessy because of the charm. So there’s a back and forth where he is extremely conflicted. Then Art feels a burn from Ticket Master’s ring on his finger and he passes out.

Me: So Ticket Master just kinda goes “Sleep.”

DM: Pretty much.

Art, in game: Alright, imma head out... *passes out face first in the dirt*

Theodora rolls and breaks free from the spell on the following turn. In this time, Koejin had followed a mysterious figure out of the fog to where Orange was trying to run off with Pink in tow. (Sidenote: Pink had been ordered to attack us and Meatball, a giant t-rex who we befriended, had stepped in the way. Meatball has the sigil of the BBEG on his leg.)

When he sees we’ve broken the spell, he tries to sic Pink on them again but she runs off into the woods. Art woke up shortly after, demanded to know where his sister was then tried to take off after her. (He was stopped by the mystery person.)

Me: Alright so, being that Art can’t follow Rieta, he turns and storms up to Orange. 

DM, knowing Art is weak as shit physically: Does he attack him?

Me: Of course not. He grabs him and goes “Listen here, you little shit. You’re going to give us the fucking stone or we’re gonna beat it out of you.”

DM: Roll for intimidation.

Art: *Hella intimidating with a 17*

DM: Alright, so Orange is shaking as Art grabs him by the shirt and kinda shakes him a little. He puts his hands up and goes “I couldn’t if I wanted to! The stone’s in my head!”

Art: We could fix that. 

Everyone readying their weapons behind Art.

Koejin: Nothing a little surgery can’t handle.

As we’re all discussing how to best take care of this, there’s a buzz in Theodora’s pocket. It’s the future leader of Acentria saying “Remember: don’t kill anyone!”

Theodora: Ah, shit... Guys... we can’t do this.

Everyone else: *sputtering different words of disappointment because we’re all children of chaotic stupid*

Hennessy then charmed Orange into telling us how the stone got in in the first place. Orange says he doesn’t know, just one day he was asked if he wanted to be a general. I said “okay” then I woke up with a stone in my head.

Art: Maybe... if we take him to Thia (The future leader) we can use her stone to pull out this one... like a magnet.

Orange: You can do whatever you want, just keep that thing away from me. *points at Wreybar.* Gnomes freak me out. That’s why I had Pink destroy the village.

Wreybar: You’re the face I saw in the flames! I thought I recognized you! You’re dead! *goes to attack but is stopped by our new mystery ally* Let me at ‘im!

Orange: No... Pink wanted to do it. Cuz gnomes are so gross...

Art: First of all, racist. Secondly, whaaaaaaaaaat???

Orange: she’s a bloodthirty monster. She wanted to kill them.

Art: Uhhhh, no. Not true. Nope. (Super denial about his sister being a murderhobo)

So, then we start discussing how to get everyone and a t-rex back to the bar where Thia is currently stationed.

Theodora: If Green were here, we could teleport...

Art:...... well, we do know.... someone else.... who can teleport...

Everyone turned to Art. It took them all a moment to realize who he was talking about before out came a collective groan.

Koejin: Didn’t we all agree we wouldn’t trust him?

Art, still hella thirsty for the D: No.

Koejin: No. We’re not asking Ticket Master.

DM: Once Koejin says the name, Ticket Master appears with a boom box on his shoulder and says “did someone say my name?”

Koejin and Theodora both start talking about this “Website that rips people off” to which Art just kinda looks at them in confusion and goes “what’s a website?” I imagine someone pushed him back so he wasn’t really heard.

We continued to discuss different ways to get everyone back to Thia. The train is mentioned once but we can’t get meatball onto the train. Ticket Master speaks up again only to get Koejin’s hand in his face as we talk. The idea them comes from out Mystery friend.

General Green can be used to teleport, but he’s a lich who feeds off knowledge. If someone was willing to give up their intelligence temporarily, he could get us back and forth then return to “death” shortly after.

Art:...I’ll do it.

Everyone else: *Ignoring him to talk about how no one wants to do it*

DM, the only one who heard him: Didn’t Art just say he would?

Art: Yeah. I mean, why not? He’ll have all my knowledge right?

DM: Yep.

Art: And he’s a genius. Which means he could connect dots I haven’t been able to. So, hook me up.

DM: Mystery woman pulls out one of Green’s threads and snaps it into the back of Art’s head. You are down to -2 on intelligence and Art is a bumbling idiot.

Art: *just kinda staring off into space*...*Sees Green when he appears* you look tired.

Green, who just wants to die: Yeah.

Art:...you should take a nap.

Green: What’s going on? Why’s Art a- *notices the thread* oh.

Everyone catches Green up on the situation and Art tries to help in the most unhelpful way possible. Green then opens a portal for everyone which is much clearer than it was the last time we used a portal.

Hennessy: ...wow, Art, you are really smart....

Art:...there was a dog... dogwoof.

(This part was hard because I wanted to actually help but the DM kept having to remind me Art was pretty much useless so I had to struggle with words and just be stupid.)

Right before we were all supposed to leave (because BBEG was on her way) Hennessy took the opportunity to whisk his NPC boyfriend into the shop in order to propose, which also ended in Hennessy getting laid. Koejin was pissed they were wasting time.

DM: Everyone outside can hear Vincent’s moaning.

Art: Why is he hurting that poor man?!

Koejin, still pissed off: Yeah, Art. This isn’t right that he’s doing this. We should leave him!

Art: Yeah, he seems mean :(! *makes no attempt to go near the portal*

Koejin’s player: Jay has been waiting for this opportunity to make Art a fucking idiot.

Me: Damn right!

So everyone walks through the portal and appears right in front of the bar. Once we all walk through the portal, Green flicks Art in the forehead and disconnects, which kills him instantly. Art then has a headache and now has a disadvantage on intelligence rolls for the foreseeable future.

Thia’s already outside of the bar, talking to people about her plans to change the world. We approach her with Orange and tell her the situation.

Thia, happy to see a living general: You’re actually not killing people!

Theodora: We’ve been trying not to!

Hennessy: Yeah, we have saved more than we killed!

Art: *counting the bodies and deciding it’s probably best to keep his mouth shut*

Thia puts the stone to Orange’s head and, for a moment, nothing happens. Then, it bursts out of his skull, splattering brain matter all over and gets absorbed into Thia’s stone.

Thia, shocked: .....I just killed that guy....

Art: No, No you didn’t. It was the stone, you had no control-

Orange, clearly not all there:... what’re you guys talking about....? I...I feel fine...

Art: He’s still alive!

Thia: Can you really call that living?!

Art: uhhhh, sure!

Thia:... we should get him healed. Everyone, come in. We can talk about everything inside.

So, we all head to the bar where Meatball is being put up right on the side. Koejin, who had a drink that gave her truesight, saw that Meatball is actually a dragonborn named Eltbalm; the lover of BBEG (Mrs. Red) Koejin has the hots for Eltbalm so she decides to hang out with him.(He’s still unconscious)

Art: But...it’s a bar.... also, sorry about that “Drunkie” comment before. I didn’t mean it.

Koejin: Yeah you did.

Art:... No, but-

Theodora, throwing her arm around Art’s shoulder: Art, Art, Art, Art.... Shut the fuck up.

Art and the others go into the bar, leaving Koejin. In a previous session, we saved a bunch of kids from Green’s spire and now they spend most of their time at the bar, where Meatball was watching them. When they see him, they all run up to hug him and cry around him.

DM: Koejin, you notice one child is missing.

Me:.... is it the tiefling boy?

DM: It is the tiefling boy.

Koejin, to one of the kids: Hey, where’s your little tiefling friend?

The kid: His mom came to pick him up.

Koejin:... uh... guys?!?! 

A message is sent between Koejin and Alabaster to relay the information. Art, hearing that “mom” picked up this supposed orphan child, immediately flips out on the bartender that let him leave with her and demands to know how long ago she came. He bolts for the door.

DM: When Art goes to run out the door, he runs into someone’s chest. It’s Ticket Master.

Art: Shit... Hi.

Ticket Master: Oh, hello! You guys kinda left without me!

Art: Right, yeah. Did you see a tiefling go through here?

Ticket Master: You mean your sister? Yes! I brought her here since you missed her.

Art: *trying so hard to process the feelings going through him* Did you see... where she went?

Ticket Master: Yes, she went that way. *arrows appear to point in every direction*

Art: Wow, you’re useless!... (Hennessy: Is this what marriage is gonna be like?!) Is there anyway for you to tell me where she went.

Ticket Master: Sure! But I need something...

Art: Okay?

Ticket Master: From her. *points at Koejin*

Art, suddenly very tense: ...Why her?

Ticket Master: Because I’ve already gotten everything I’ve wanted out of you.

Art:....fucker....

Ticket Master, ignoring Art: So, Koejin...?

Koejin:.... I want you.... to leave.

Ticket Master:...*shrugs* Okay. *Just walks away*

Art, in his head: yeah, that’s not gonna come back to bite us.

Koejin is then reminded of the fact that she has tracking skills and a bloodhawk(named Pirate) for situations just like this. She seems slightly... put off by the idea.

Koejin: I’m not risking Pirate safety.

Art: Pirate can fly. Rieta can’t. He’ll be fine.

Koejin: Right... Pirate, look for General Pink and the kid. But keep your distance.

DM: Pirate flies onto Art’s shoulder, rips out a piece of his hair and eats it. Then, he flies off and searches the area until he lands on the roof of a small house in the woods. He perches there and caws loudly.

We all ran into the woods to the house to find it was boarded up. None of the panels were missing so it wasn’t a break in. We all think of the best way to do this.

Koejin: Someone could go in there.

Art: I could sneak in. My stealth is pretty high.

Koejin: Yeah... should let the stealthy tiefling go in... I’m gonna come too. I’m pretty stealthy.

(Koejin and Art are now Stealth Buddies.)

DM: So, you sneak in and it’s dark. Koejin, you can see shadows and movement. Art, you see Pink standing over a body. She has something dripping from her mouth.

Art, stunned, uses sending so they don’t make a noise: So, don’t freak out.... but I think Rieta killed a kid....

Koejin, message back:.... cooooool.... so, what do we do?

Art: *just staring at the situation*

DM: Neither of you smell blood so there’s that.

Koejin’s player: I wouldn’t even know what blood smells like right off the bat.

Me and the DM, in unison: Koejin would.

Koejin’s player: Right. *laughs* Art’s hand.

Koejin moved for a chair to get closer and hide behind. Art, being the beautiful suicidal dumbass he is, goes the opposite direction to get to the other side of Pink.

DM: Koejin, you slip over to the chair without making a sound. Art, when you take a step, your foot lands on a board that creaks and gives you away. Pink snaps around to look at you. She is frothing; the kid is still alive and fine. She hasn’t done anything yet.

Art:... Hi, Rieta...

DM: When he sees Art, the kid calls out “Help me!” Pink grabs hold of the boy by the hair and lifts him off the floor.

Art: Nonononononononono.... Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.

Koejin: *readies her bow from her position behind the chair, aimed for Pink’s wrist*

DM: All of you feel a sudden heat. Moments later, the door blows off it’s hinges and it’s Mrs. Red. She is pissed. She glares at Pink and yells “You killed my love.” Koejin, because of the truesight potion, you see Red’s face is that of a red dragon. Mrs. Red is a red dragon.

Koejin’s player: Oh shit!

DM: And we’ll end there for this week.

(This game is getting insane. Also, if you got all the way through this, thank you! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. There’s a lot of stuff left out from this just because it was already getting super long.)

[thepetulantpen]

Modern AU/Kindness

(Hey I know this event is literally over but I finally finished day 6 of @mollymauklivesfest so I’m posting it now. Better late than never?)

Molly’s general rule of thumb is to leave the world a little better than how he found it.

And a little more chaotic.

Typically, he’s found, in order to achieve both of those things, one will eventually be on the run from the cops.

Which he is now.

As he nearly gets run over for the third time that night, diving across traffic and into an alley where he leaps onto a dumpster and scales an apartment complex, he takes a rare moment of reflection to think about how he ended up in this position.

It either started with the kids who tried to rob him or the racist elven lady, depending on how much faith you put in Molly’s moral code.

...

When a bony hand reaches into his purse, Molly stops and fidgets with his phone for a bit to give the kid a better chance. He may not be the most observant person, but even he saw the three dirty, skinny children sneaking up behind him.

He’s not exactly made of money- he reads fortunes, for gods’ sake- but he can spare something to give to people even less fortunate than him. Whatever they can swipe, they’ve earned.

When Molly dies in Crossy Road, he moves on and the kids scatter, back to whatever alley they crawled out of. He wishes he could help more, but they’re just three of many in this city.

It probably won’t keep him up at night, but it does distract him long enough to not look where he’s going, long enough to trip over an older elven lady. Old enough to look old, which means she must be ancient.

“Sorry-“

Molly cuts himself off at the look on her face, needlessly shocked and disgusted. He knows what that means.

There’s no major freak out, which is nicer than previous encounters of similar types, but she does mutter “demon” as she crosses the street in a hurry. She’s dramatically rubbing at the front of her shirt, as if Molly might’ve gotten a bit of his Infernal on her.

He’s gotten it before, gotten it far worse. It probably won’t keep him up at night.

That might’ve been the end of it, if Molly wasn’t Molly.

The shiny pearls around her neck and the gold bracelets on her wrist give him an idea.

And that is what’ll keep him up at night.

...

Caleb wakes at 3:34 am to the sound of his phone buzzing violently against his nightstand. He grabs for it blindly, wondering which of his dumb friends could be calling at this time of night.

The screen lights up too bright in the dark, washing over his face and making his eyes squint to adjust. ‘Robin Hood’, Molly’s chosen nickname on Caleb’s phone, is calling, which would’ve earned Caleb money if he’d bet on it. These sorts of calls are Molly around 80% of the time.

He lets it ring for a few seconds, pretending to debate taking the call. He promises to himself that if this isn’t an emergency, he’ll kill Molly, but it’s an empty promise, one he never keeps when Molly calls him high or horny or just bored.

He answers the call.

“This had better be good, Mollymauk.”

There’s a huff, some shuffling, and the sounds of a busy street on the other end of the call before Molly finally speaks, out of breath.

“Yeah, yeah it’s an emergency, actually,” he grunts and Caleb hears something slamming against metal, “Are you still friends with that guy in Nicodranas?”

Caleb sits up in bed and rubs his eyes. He really doesn’t need this, at 3:36 in the morning.

“Friends is a strong word.”

Caleb can practically hear the eye roll on the other end of the line, but he ignores it because Molly has no right to be annoyed with him, when he’s calling at 3:37 in the morning.

“Associate, acquaintance, whatever. Will he still help you cross the border?”

“Molly, what-“ Caleb sighs and shakes his head. He’d been fine when they talked last week. “What could you have possibly done in the last few days that makes this necessary? No, no, don’t tell me, I want plausible deniability. Just, how soon do you need to leave?”

“Well-“ Molly starts but is cut off by the blare of police sirens and his own footsteps against the pavement. When the noise fades a bit, he asks, “Does that answer your question?”

Caleb groans, standing to grab his coat and books. It’s going to be another long fucking night.

“Unfortunately, yes. Can you hold out till morning?”

He can imagine Molly grinning on the other end, feels the sharp energy of it through the receiver.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt my skills?”

...

After about the third rich person party he’d robbed, Molly starts to think he’s getting in a little too deep.

But he’s got a bag full of jewelry and other useless expensive trinkets and he’s driving to yet another pawn shop, so he’s committed for now.

Emerging with a wad of cash is pretty satisfying and spending it on a car full of non perishable meals and blankets eliminates all doubt and conflicting feelings from his mind.

This whole scheme has gotten pretty ridiculous and is starting to take way too much planning- he’s had to research parties and fake identities and pawn shops. It shouldn’t have been this elaborate when the premise seemed so easy: steal from the rich, give to the poor. But bullshitting your way into parties without a plan is risky, and selling hoards of jewelry to the local pawn shop every week is a sure way to get investigated and arrested.

It’s a lot of work, more work and planning than Molly typically participates in, but it’s worth it. The people who attend these kind of parties are the perfect sort of uptight that provides endless entertainment, and pretending to be rich (or even royalty, on one occasion) is not only fun but empowering. Nobody dares question guests at these parties, he could tell them he got banished from a pirate island and they’d nod politely while sipping champagne.

Some people would say it’s exhausting pretending to be someone else, but not Molly. For him, it’s exhilarating to weave lie after increasingly ridiculous lie- and it’s not hard either. Rich Molly is just Molly but worse and more shiny.

He will say that the best part isn’t the parties or the lies. It’s now, as he rolls up to one of the dark alleys in the worst part of town and finds the sad little camps of boxes and torn blankets.

The kids don’t approach him, watching warily as he sets down his offerings of food and other supplies from Dollar Tree. It’s the most he could get with the money he made, plus his efforts in bargain hunting and buying in bulk. They’ll eat and be warm for months, hopefully.

This camp is just one in a series of stops he’ll make today, grim reminders of the desolate conditions the poor of Zadash live in. He’s determined to keep up this act until every one of the kids in this city has gotten their share of its wealth. Or until he’s arrested.

One of the bigger kids comes out first, opening up cans of fruit for the little kids and passing out blankets. He waves to Molly, a small gesture of thanks before he turns his attention to his charges.

Molly waves but doesn’t stop long, heading back to his car before he gets wrapped up in a conversation. He has more work to do, if he’s going to make this city better.

...

Caleb rubs at his eyes again, trying to make them focus on the map through the haze of his exhaustion and shakiness of Molly’s shitty driving.

They almost go airborne on a bump in the road and Caleb scrambles to keep hold of his books.

“Scheisse, Molly. Easy on the gas pedal, I need to make sure we’re going the right way.”

Molly nods absently, eyes darting in between the windshield and rear view mirror, watching fervently for any sign of authorities. Caleb’s contact in Nicodranas has outlined the fastest, most discreet route over the border, but these things can change so fast that there’s never any true guarantees of safety. At least he has Caleb here to navigate and steer him out of trouble. If anyone can bail Molly out of a jail cell, it’ll be Caleb.

“Left here.”

Moly turns the wheel too hard, taking the turn as sharp as he can. Caleb is holding onto the armrests for dear life and staring at Molly in disbelief. It’s a wonder to Caleb that they haven’t died yet, with Molly being as impulsive in driving as he is in life. He should’ve called Fjord and made him give them a ride.

“You’re just going to attract more attention if you drive so fast,” Caleb pauses as he watches the meter lower a little closer to the speed limit, he’s got to find a way to distract Molly from the high speed chase he’s envisioning, “Finish telling your story, I’m dying to know how your flawless plans could’ve been outsmarted.”

...

Picking pockets is not a terribly difficult art. Some can do it masterfully, some are abysmal at it, but most can do a decent job and grab a few things without trying their luck.

Molly falls into the last category, but he’s too stubborn for his own good. He just has to get that last bracelet.

The woman he’s robbing, a respectable, no nonsense businessperson, looks down at Molly when his hands slip. He manages to not only screw up his extraction of the bracelet, but also drop the rest of her jewelry to the ground with a loud series of clinks.

Molly only has time for an abashed smile before he’s leaving a tiefling shaped cloud of dust behind him and utilizing his other talent: running.

There’s an broken window, a two story climb, and a crash through some overly manicured hedges, then he’s hitting the pavement and diving down the nearest alley as sirens wail in the distance.

He stops to heave in a few breaths, preparing for a chase, and that turns out to be a mistake as the guards for the party are smarter and faster than he thought. There’s shouting and uniforms so he makes a quick decision, jumping up—

“I can’t believe you. We had to leave the country because you suddenly became a bigger kleptomaniac than Nott?”

“Technically,” Molly smiles at Beau across the table from him, “you didn’t have to leave. This is just your excuse for a vacation.”

Beau crosses her arms and returns the shit-eating grin. “But I couldn’t leave my best friend to fend for himself in his run from the police.”

Molly is going to fire back, maybe bring up the time they had to evacuate a town because of something Beau did (they can never go back to Trostenwald) but Jester walks in carrying a tray of cookies and he’s sufficiently distracted.

“Look what my mama had the cooks bake!”

Jester giggles as Beau and Molly immediately pounce on the plate, competing to build the biggest cookie pile. She grabs a cookie from Beau’s pile and sits down with them, smiling with crumbs in her teeth.

“Since we’re sort of trapped here until the police forget about Molly-“

“Trapped is such a strong word.”

“-then we’ll have to plan a bunch of beach days to fill time. We’ll get to drag Caleb out there and we could invite Nott’s family, I’m sure Yeza would love to see the ocean!”

Jester’s words become indistinct as Molly zones out, happy to enjoy this moment with friends despite the circumstances that landed him here.

It’s a happy ending really, and some good karma from the world at last. He did something good by doing something bad and now he gets to hang out at the beach with his friends- his family.

Gods, he can’t wait to goad Caleb into buying swim trunks in the most atrocious pattern possible.

[queandrue]

How Hard Can One Baby Be?

A/N: I can’t be stopped and need distractions from the stress of finals week XD Enjoy more DnD babes~ ~Rue

Word Count: 4438

“I usually put him down for a nap around two. He has this little stuffed griffon Mama and Papa gave him that he loves to curl up next to. Sometimes he simply won’t go to sleep without it. I left some bottles for him, sometimes he gets finicky, but you just have to be patient and- This isn’t too much for you is it?”

Sildar glanced up at Talnah. Her hands were fidgeting with her blue robe, the same robe they had all gotten her for Candlesnight. It seemed like so long ago now, and Talnah seemed different in a way.

Perhaps it was just a side effect of having her first child.

“Dear friend, you have no need to worry,” he assured placing a hand on her shoulder. Talnah stopped her fidgeting and looked up at Sildar. He saw doubt and fear flash through her eyes. Perhaps she was having second thoughts. He couldn’t let that happen. After all, new mothers needed a break eventually, and it was clear that having a fussy baby was taking its toll on the tiefling. “He’s one baby and there are six of us. I think we can handle him. You need to go out and relax. You’ve earned it. After these next two days, you’ll have us babysitting all the time, and maybe I’ll even get to introduce him to Mathilda.”

Talnah’s shoulders slumped a bit and her tail fell to the floor. Sildar could see the bags that had started to form under her eyes. It had been quite a while since he’d seen the tiefling this worn. “What if he starts to miss me?” she asked, “I don’t think I’ve ever left him for this long before… I don’t know Sildar, maybe I’m making a mistake. Maybe Cascius is still too little yet.”  As if on cue, tiny noises started up from the bassinet in the room. Talnah smiled at Sildar before motioning him to follow her. She pulled aside the deep blue curtains to reveal her squirming child and a stuffed griffon with button eyes. Sildar thought it was odd how little the young child looked like a tiefling. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the tail and Talnah’s unmistakable eyes, he would have sworn the child didn’t possess an ounce of infernal blood at all. But, perhaps that would change once his horns grew in…. If he grew horns.

“Good morning my Starshine,” Talnah cooed, plucking Cascius from his bed. The child squirmed a bit before he found a comfortable spot to cling onto Talnah. “Can you say hello to Uncle Sildar?” she asked softly.

Sildar reached out to put a hand atop Cascius’ head. Gods that hair was so soft and curly, “You’re going to have a fun time taming this when he gets older.” He couldn’t help but smile when he heard the giggles escape from Talnah’s mouth.

“Well, thankfully I don’t have to worry about that for quite some-”

“Come on Tal! Hurry up! Just give Cascius to Sildar!”

Robin’s voice came through the second story window clear as day. Just like that worry replaced Talnah’s smile once more.

“I can walk you to the door so you can hold him for a little while longer,” Sildar offered. He couldn’t help but wonder what she must be feeling. She hadn’t ever spent that much time away from Cascius, but they all seemed to agree that it was time for her to have a break, at least for tonight.

As they walked down the staircase Talnah peppered the baby in kisses. Would she be able to stay away for a night? Would Ea and Robin be able to keep her away for a night?

“You promise, you’ll have Jacar get a hold of me if anything goes wrong?” she asked, “It really won’t be any bother… I’ll probably call tonight just so I can say goodnight to him.” Talnah seemed like she wanted to say more until Ea put a hand on her shoulder.

Talnah had waited almost three months until she said anything about the pregnancy and she had waited just a little longer to tell Ea. Sildar didn’t blame her. Despite the other tiefling being another close friend, there had been no telling on how she’d react. Even now, she didn’t exactly seem to hold a fondness for the child.

Ea squeezed Talnah’s shoulder lightly, “Give him to Sildar Talnah. He’ll be safe.” Sildar watched as Talnah’s eyes flickered from Ea to Cascius, to himself. Would she change her mind at the last minute? Cascius was her baby, her first baby, and he knew that Talnah could be quite stubborn at times when she did or didn’t want to do something.

After what seemed like an eternity, Talnah relented. She placed one last kiss on her child’s head before handing him over. “Please take good care of him… I would very much like to come home to my baby.”

Sildar nodded as he took Cascius from Talnah’s arms. It felt a bit more awkward than he had imagined. Talnah made holding the child seem so easy, but he felt clumsy and a bit unsure. “Don’t worry Tal. You go and have fun. Have a night to yourself, dance, drink, have a night of uninterrupted sleep. Let us worry about little Cascius. You take care of yourself. After all, we’ve survived worse than him. How bad can one baby be?”

********

This was how bad one baby could be….

Sildar swore the words “How bad can one baby be?” would be written on his tombstone. Sure, the first few minutes after Talnah’s departure, everything had seemed alright, but that was only the calm before the storm. It was after the first hour had passed that things started to become bad. It started out as whimpering. Only whimpering. Sildar was positive he could handle just whimpering. Then the whimpers burst into full-blown cries. Slowly, the others entered the room, all crowding around the crying child.

“Did you check his diaper?” Claire asked.

“Twice. There’s nothing. I tried his griffon and even giving him his bottle. Nothing!” Sildar handed the child off to Phryn before flipping through Talnah’s notes for what felt like the millionth time. Had she said something that he’d forgotten to write down? He couldn’t call Talnah. He had assured her that they’d have the situation completely under control. Calling her now would only make her stress. There had to be something they could do. Anything!

Korv bumbled towards Phryn with a wide grin on his face, “Babies like funny faces right? Baby can’t laugh and cry at the same time.” He leaned in close to Cascius’ face and opened his maw, “Hello small Cassy!” For a moment, the crying stopped. The group all let out a sigh of relief. Finally, they had quiet….

Then the crying started again, only this time it seemed ten times louder than it was before. Korv stumbled back in shock, right into Claire. He looked at her the same way a kicked puppy would. He didn’t quite understand what had gone wrong. “Nice attempt big guy, but uh….  Small babies aren’t usually super fond of sharp teeth,” she explained. The half-orc patted Korv’s shoulder in an attempt to show some form of comfort.

“Is it just me? Or does the crying seem louder than before?” Phryn asked, doing what she could to save her ears.

K’Thriss stepped passed his sister and towards Sildar, “Thaumaturgy. Real great in little tieflings. Especially when they can’t control it. Which means, you should call Talnah before it gets any worse.”

Sildar’s eyes widened. What was K’Thriss saying? Did he even know what he was saying? Sildar squared his shoulders and met the drow’s eyes. “We can’t. This is supposed to be her time to relax and keep her mind off the baby. We can handle it.”

“Oh really? Well, that seems like a wonderful idea considering how well you’re handling it right now,” K’Thriss spat, causing Sildar to jump back in mild offence but he couldn’t think of any way to refute what the drow had said. “Look, maybe Talnah forgot something. Just call her and ask her how to turn her kid off.”

As painful as the situation was, Sildar wasn't about to worry Talnah. He had told her he could handle this, that they could handle this. Even if K’Thriss was right, he wasn’t about to admit it. “If you don’t want to deal with it, then fine. You can go off and lock yourself alone with your paints and canvases.”

“Believe me Hallwinter, I’d be more than happy to be with myself and my paintings, but it’s hard for anyone to focus on anything when that kid is summoning everything that is unholy,” K’Thriss hissed. It didn’t seem that K’Thriss would back down anytime soon, and Sildar didn’t plan on backing down either. But he knew he had to come up with something. There was only so much crying one man could take.

Then it clicked.

"K'Thriss, how much paint do you have?"

*******

A laughing baby was so much better than a crying baby. There wasn’t much to do to come to that conclusion. Sildar watched as the young Vellaam happily splattered his painted hands over a canvas. Claire sat close by, guiding Cascius back to the canvas whenever he started to drift towards the floor.

“See K’Thriss? Talnah doesn’t need to worry herself. We just need to be a little more… inventive,” Sildar said, all too smugly, looking towards the drow. K’Thriss, on the other hand, didn’t look happy at all with the situation. His eyes narrowed a bit at the human and his lips pursed.

“You owe me Hallwinter,” he huffed, “He’s mixing my paints. Those weren’t cheap.”

Sildar waved him off and continued to smile at the drow, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go on with ruined paints. On the bright side, he’s not ‘summoning everything that is unholy’ anymore. That is how you worded it, right?”  He had to stop himself from laughing when K’Thriss’ face contorted before a frustrated sigh left his lips. Sildar moved closure and bumped his shoulder, “Maybe this means you may have a mini underling on your hands…. And I will get you more paint… And a canvas.”

Sildar wasn’t sure, but he swore he saw the tiniest of smiles on the drow’s face out of the corner of his eye. If it had been there it quickly disappeared. “Do you plan on explaining to Talnah why Cascius is blue? Because as far as I know, neither she nor his father was, and neither of them are chameleons.”

“Of course not! There is this thing called baths. We’ll just wash him off and let Talnah see what he worked on when she comes home.”

“Easier said than done Hallwinter,” K’Thriss chuckled. Sildar rolled his eyes. It was only a bath. Magic or not, a bath couldn’t be that hard.

Or so he thought.

********

Jacar was plucking his lute when he felt his earring warm up. The tune was old and familiar. It brought about happy memories and held an air of sadness… Claire sat in the corner of the room, listening to him pluck out the old tune. At first, Jacar didn’t register the warming of his ear until he played a few minutes of the song. Slowly his hand reached up to touch his ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh Jacar!” Talnah’s voice rung out clear as day, “How is everything going? Is Cascius being a little angel for you all?” Jacar could only imagine how much Talnah had been thinking about Cascius. Had Robin and Ea even been able to keep her mind off the baby?

Jacar figured he could leave out the part about Cascius crying for most of the day… “He’s fine Talnah, he’s as good as a baby can be. I’m surprised you were able to keep yourself from calling this long, it’s almost sunset. How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I just-”

“Talnah!”

Ea’s voice was recognizable in the background as well as pounding on what he could only assume was a door.

“Talnah give me back my earring! Cas is fine! You can see him tomorrow! Now give me back my earring!”

“Yeah Tal, it’s girl’s night! You’re supposed to be having fun!” Robin’s voice wasn’t nearly as loud as Ea’s and seemed to be more of a mediator in this situation.

Well… It seemed that there would only be one way to cure Ea’s rage. Letting out a sigh, Jacar decided to start what would undoubtedly be a long conversation with Talnah in an attempt to make her give Ea the earring back. The minstrel had just opened his mouth when-

“Where the fuck is the baby?”

The words were loud and panicked and Jacar felt his face go white.

“What was that ?” Talnah asked. Jacar could hear the rising panic in her voice. He had to think of something.  Something. Anything. Don’t panic Jacar. Don’t-

“We’re making fudge with the baby!” Jacar didn’t need to look at Claire to see how she felt about his response, the audible smack to her face was telling enough.

“Oh… Well… Make sure he doesn’t get too close to the stove. And keep him away from the knives! They’re both rather dangerous and-”

“Yup. All good Tal. You enjoy your night. Goodnight! Give the earring back to Ea. We’ve got everything under control!” Jacar swore he’d never hung up faster in all his life. Hopefully, Ea and Robin could still keep Talnah away…. And hopefully his voice didn’t betray his panic.

“Nice going Jacar,” Claire sighed, “Now we’re going to have to find a baby and make fudge.”

********

Sildar paced back and forth. Both he and Korv were soaked to the bone and he had no idea where Cascius had gone. Sure he’d heard that magic could be unpredictable in babies, but he certainly didn’t expect Talnah’s baby to go missing in the middle of a bath!

“He can’t be that far,” Phryn offered, “I mean, he’s still young, his magic isn’t that strong yet. He has to be in the house somewhere.” She had a point, but even then Sildar was still nervous. What if Cascius was on the roof? Or what if he fell down the stairs? There were so many things that could go wrong and each new scenario caused Sildar’s panic to rise.

K’Thriss stepped in front of Sildar and forced him to meet his gaze. “Now will you call Talnah and ask her for help? She’s been dealing with this kid since day one. She knows how to handle him better than any of us. If you don’t want this to end in disaster-”

“Stop,” Sildar snapped, “Just stop. No, we are not calling her. If we do she’ll never let anyone else handle him again and that’s not good for her. She needs this and we don’t need her thrown into a panic. Plus Jacar already told her that we’re making fudge. So how bad will that look on us that we not only lost the baby but also lied to her face.” Sildar wasn’t backing down on this. He was a member of the Griffon Calvary dammit! He dealt with worse in the past, he handles griffons almost daily. He should be able to take care of a baby! “We need to find him and find him fast. It’s getting dark already. If we split up we can find him faster." With every word, Sildar felt his heart sink a little lower. He had promised Talnah that he could care for her child. What if he had been wrong?

********

Sildar sat with his head in his hands. So far they’d hadn’t had any luck. Where had he gone?

“Don’t worry Sildar, I’m sure he’s all right. We would have heard something right?” Phryn asked. She had always had a comforting air about her, but even then Sildar still felt that sick feeling deep within the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t even look up at Phryn, he couldn’t bring himself to meet anyone’s gaze at this point. How could he? “I promised Talnah we could look after him,” he said softly, “What type of cavalryman am I if I can’t look after a child?” Talnah trusted him with the thing she valued most and he had let her down. You couldn’t replace a child.

Phryn shook her head, “Don’t think like that. We will find him. He isn’t half-way across the world he’s-” As her words trailed off Sildar thought that she was finally starting to come to the same conclusion he had. He thought that maybe she’d accepted that the worst had happened.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Phryn quickly shushed him. His face contorted in confusion for a moment, then he heard it. The small noises were almost inaudible. Sildar swore he had never run faster in all of his life. He ran all the way stopping only to make sure he was still running towards the noise.  It led him to a small room with washing equipment and an upturned basket. Breath held, he walked closer to the basket and grabbed it’s sides. Underneath a freshly dried pile washed laundry was the young tiefling holding a stuffed griffon close.

Cascius looked up towards Sildar with wide, wet eyes. It looked like he was about to start crying and Sildar had never been happier to see the face of a sad child. “Oh where have you been little Cas? Have you been here the whole time?” he could help the laughter pouring out of his mouth. He hadn’t lost his friend’s child. Cascius was safe if not a little hungry, “Oh just look at you, you wonderful little terror! Where did you get your toy from?”

Phryn entered into the room not too long after. She smiled from Sildar to Cascius before noticing the toy. “Now how did he get that?” she asked, drawing Sildar’s attention towards her, “I noticed it was a little dirty, so I decided to wash it off. A clean and happy toy for a clean and happy baby.” How ironic it was that such a kind intention had lead to such terror. Sildar turned back towards Cascius. Those big eyes reminded him so much of the child’s mother, they were so easy to read and ready to take in so much.

The next whimper that left Cascius drew him back to the present. “Perhaps it’s time to feed him and put him to bed yeah?”

********

Surprisingly, feeding Cascius had been the easiest task. Once they got him to put the toy down, he latched onto the bottle without fuss. In the meantime, Korv and the other got to work on the fudge that Jacar had used as a cover-up. The only one keeping Sildar company was K’Thriss.

“He’s not that bad when he’s not screaming,” K’Thriss said quietly, “I guess you could call him kind of cute.”

Sildar nodded in absent-minded agreement.  He turned to look at K’Thriss, “I guess he is, isn’t he? He must be like this for Talnah most of the time if she never wants to leave him alone.”

“Either that or it’s just because he’s hers.”

“Could be, but I suppose none of us were really any better at this age.”

Cascius pushed the bottle away the best he could with his tiny hands. He looked up at Sildar before a tiny hand reached up to tug at one of his braids. “Maybe you should get your hair cut before that kid gets a few months older,” K’Thriss suggested, “You know, before he gets bigger and it really starts to hurt.”

Sildar shook his head and started raising Cascius closer to his face in an attempt to get him to let go. “Nah, he’ll be fine. Babies like to grab onto fingers and ha-”

Sildar didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Cascius rammed his head into Sildar’s. It didn’t hurt as much as it startled him. He quickly pulled Cascius back and stared at him as the infant started laughing. K’Thriss joined in, snickering quietly from his spot on the dining table, “Count yourself lucky he doesn’t have horns. The babies are like goats. There were enough of them in Shadowfell to figure that out.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Sildar murmured, placing Cascius’ bottle down, “You ever been hit by one.”

“Nah, never been fond of babies,” he shrugged, “Too much work, too much crying.”

“But of course Uncle K’Thriss loves his little nephew right?” Sildar teased, slowly holding Cascius out towards the drow. Just then Phryn poked her head out of the kitchen, “K’Thriss, would you mind adding a bit of artistic flair to the fudge?”

K’Thriss pushed himself off the table and started walking away from Cascius and Sildar and towards the kitchen. Just before he passed the kitchen door he paused and turned to face the human. “Maybe,” he said. Then he was gone.

********

While a happy baby was much better than a crying baby, it would have nice if Cascius had been happy to go to sleep. Each of the six aunts and uncles decided to take shifts, throughout the night until he fell asleep. After his disappearing stunt in the bath earlier, no one wanted to take a chance with him having another spurt of untamed, unpredictable magic escape him. There had been a few instances of crying and small magic spurts throughout the night. Each of the members had gone at least two shifts staying up with the child and Sildar had been the last one to go on shift in the child’s room. When he woke up, fear shot through him once more.

Cascius was gone.

He shot up expecting the worst. He had fallen asleep during one of Cascius’ spurts and he had gone missing again! Talnah would be home any minute! They didn’t have time! The man continued to panic until the music reached his ears. The tune led him out of the nursery and into Jacar’s room. The minstrel sat on the floor slowly plucking away at his lute.

Talnah had come home about an hour ago, excited and relieved to see Cascius again. Once the song reached her ears. The tune was familiar. It was too familiar, but she didn’t mind. It reminded her of happy times, but also made her heartache. She followed the song to where Jacar had a sleeping Cascius in his lap. Talnah took a seat next to him on the floor and listened.

“I know someone else who loved... loves this song,” he said softly after a long moment but continuing to pluck at his instrument, “You know… I think it’s interesting that he seems to like it too.”

“Yes. It is funny isn’t it?” she replied in the same hushed tone.

Throughout the song, the two continued to speak in hushed whispers that none of the onlookers dared interrupt. Each one had their own opinions of the song. Sildar noticed Ea staring at the ground resolutely, her face flipping between rage and a mask of calm. He didn’t really want to ask why he was sure he knew anyways.

“I don’t know if it’s the song or if he just wore himself out, but he’s fast asleep now,” Jacar said softly. Talnah’s eyes had started to water. He wasn’t sure if she even noticed, but it probably brought back similar feelings for her that they did for him.

Those feelings weren’t always easy to deal with even if some of the memories were pleasant.

Talnah quickly wiped her eyes, and blinked to try to get rid of any tears clinging to her lashes. “I’d like to believe it’s the song Jacar,” she said softly, “I really would.” She slowly ran her fingers through Cascius’ curly blonde hair. He squirmed a bit, but he didn’t wake.

Slowly each of the onlookers left the room, allowing the song to finish in silence.

********

“I really appreciate what all of you were doing for me Sildar,” Talnah smiled. She poured two cups of tea and moved one closer to Sildar. Cascius squirmed and squealed in Talnah’s arms. She wasn’t going to be drinking the cup she poured in a while. Her horns were decorated and dressed rather nicely in elaborate silks. It looked like she had just gotten out of a meeting.

“I’d do it again too Talnah. You know you’re a good friend,” he said, “Do you want me to hold him so you can drink?”

“No thank you Sildar.”

He watched as the child reached for the gems dripping from her horns. Talnah reached for the tiny griffon in an attempt to get his focus on something more baby friendly. He squealed even louder as the stuffed toy came closer to his face. “You know you’re allowed to spend time with him outside of babysitting, right Uncle Jacar? You all are. I don’t call you all his aunt and uncles for nothing,” Talnah said, “Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind about you holding him.” With that, she stood up and walked closer to Sildar, handing him the baby.

Cascius looked up at Sildar and smiled. When brought up closer to his face, Cascius bumped his head with Sildar’s and laughed.

“Aww. That means he likes you Uncle Sildar,” Talnah giggled, “But when his horns start growing in, you’re going to want to wear your helmet more often. I used to do that to my Papa all the time and gave him the worst of headaches.”

Sildar looked up from the child to Talnah, his face dropping a bit. “Tal, you know I’m not the best babysitter, none of us really are.”

Talnah nodded and sat down on the arm of the chair, “I know Sildar…. But you’re also family to me. No family is perfect either, yet to me all of you are so wonderful.” She then went back to the other side of the table to sip at her tea. “I want Cascius to have experiences that I never had, and growing up with all of you will give him that. You’re exactly what he needs. You’re perfectly imperfect Sildar, and he needs you. He needs all of you.”

Sildar looked back down at Cascius and those big eyes. They were large enough to take on the world… He just needed guidance. After what seemed like an eternity, Sildar finally looked back up at Talnah.

“Alright Lady Vellaam, you have me at your service.”