#it’s different after the ritual too it’s all different like after the tiefling party the two of them are Constantly touching but

[trevisos]

see and i guess the thing that makes me crazy about the whole relearning intimacy is that xarrai is doing the same thing. in different ways and for different reasons they are both people who have almost never been touched if not for pain or sex or some other sort of Use. and i think that for the two of them that shared experience makes the whole thing like… almost kind of funny? here we are, two guys who are supposed to be experts at intimacy, and we’re giggling like schoolgirls after the most chaste little kiss. it’s all just another joke only the two of them are in on, another conspiratorial little moment they share. or at least it’s easier to see it that way than to see it for what it Is (being madly in love)

[yappacadaver]

Most of my lore-related Zevlor headcanons are going into the *glances at draft* uh...stupidly long fic.

But I'm in the "Zevlor had deep camaraderie and all kinds of wild sex in the Hellriders, but not a lot of relationship experience" camp. Stuff happens after battle, or when drunk, or in the barracks, but once he climbed the ranks, he wasn't going to abuse his position or fraternize. There wasn't time for him to be a good life partner outside of his duties.

So he is an absolute sucker for all the cute romantic things he missed out on earlier in life. Public displays of affection, flowers, courting rituals, he thinks he's too old for those things and claims he doesn't need the trappings. But then he gets so flustered when his partner makes the effort.

I'm of so many different minds when it comes to Zevlor's prior experience idek if I'm gonna be able to get all this down

So I totally agree that sex definitely happened amongst the Hellriders. I mean damn it's a military branch. I'm sure individuals found ways to get dirty in the barracks, the showers, in the field, in the stables, using equipment you'd likely find in a stable, using magic, if you can think it it probably happened.

I'm not sure that it's something Zevlor (even as a younger man) would've pursued? maybe it found him anyways, who knows. But he strikes me as someone who was (WAS) an idealist, and a proud one. Maybe he was saving himself for the perfect courtship, maybe he was too devoted to his religious education and martial training, maybe he's always been the kind of man to hold himself back (like at the tiefling party).

Now this is not me saying I think Zevlor's a virgin, I honestly think he's had both romantic and sexual experience. But I'm trying to hold in my mind the image of a young devout tiefling who is so proud to serve his city and his god, who wears practically the most respected uniform in that city, and have to imagine he thought he had HUGE ass boots to fill and no time to dally.

So ig what I'm saying is my personal hc is yours in reverse xD I think Zevlor would feel much more at home in the formal, formulaic space of romantic courtship, and completely out of sorts when it comes to experiencing desire or being desired in turn. He's old, he's a victim of extreme prejudice, he's of a race whose physical traits are associated with everything he's learned through his faith to despise, I feel like this man would have a hard HARD time with physical intimacy. Taking the metaphorical armor off could feel like self-ruin to a man who was practically raised in it. An aegis is meant to be struck not caressed, etc etc.

[actuallyevilgay]

The Apathy (Part 6)

Astarion x Male Reader/Tav

DNI if you are a minor. Dead dove don’t eat. Please read my about before replying. Content: Ascended Astarion x Male tav, this is post epilogue.

Summary: Astarion's experience of the hand-holding got a little too intense for him.. Meanwhile Gale is trying to figure out what's going on with Tav. Content Warnings: This part contains some smut! NSFT!! A/N: We get some much-needed Gale pov! Hell yeah. Hope you enjoy. Read on ao3 as well!

......

On the way back to the homestead Astarion was renting, his head was racing with many conflicting thoughts. He thought he could keep his cool.. But didn’t expect to so quickly lose sense of his composure after Tav ran off.

The smell.. He was obsessing over it and certainly needed some privacy to come to terms with what happened today. He made a mental note to look into the crazy woman situation, since she would likely show up again sooner or later, his tiefling disguise may have another role to play soon. Just in case, he had commanded the local vermin to keep an eye out for Tav. 

Tav may have tried to hide his magic powers due the guard incident, strange as it was for him to cower behind a complete stranger, perhaps he was trying to lie low.. Something about how helpless Tav behaved put Astarion on edge. He’d never seen him like that. 

Then again, if he’d been here all this time without anyone knowing he would have built a new identity for himself. No hero of Baldur’s gate, just a barkeep at a tavern which serves tea apparently. Perhaps the final fight with the netherbrain made Tav want to retire into a simpler life, leaving the idea of adventuring behind. Astarion could only speculate on the reasoning.

Astarion didn’t say a word to either Vand or Ty when he entered the house, just traded eye contact and dismissed them by silent command. He headed up the stairs to the bigger bedroom, taking off all his garments and clothes until but the undershirt and pants were left.

With an annoyed grunt, he settled down on the bed in a meditative position, only to swap resting angles several times.. Reverie would not come for him as easily today.

‘’What am I doing..?’’ The mumble tumbled out of his mouth, his fingers slid over the soft covers, finding a pillow to dig his face in.

‘’..Tav..’’ He moaned, squeezing his hands together. The vision of their fingers intertwined returned to him. ‘’Oh.. Dearest..’’ his voice muffled under a deep breath.

A cold hard yearning welled within him, building and building, becoming harder to contain with every second. A single tear escaped from his eyes.

He needed to clear his head as soon as possible.. There were things to be done.

For his trance, he decided to focus on a memory, a particularly fond one he hadn’t revisited since the break up. It was the second time he slept with Tav, only to realise he had grown fond of him in ways he never perceived himself to be able to.

The tiefling party was definitely not to his taste, even now, it still made him feel weird to be celebrated as a hero. Back in Baldur’s gate, that's what he now was known for. It took a lot of manipulating and gaslighting to make sure no one questioned him taking over the szarr estate, ensuring his road to securing the city as his territory.

Back during the adventure, the parasites were the furthest from his mind, he could only think of how worried it made him a monster hunter had joined the band of travellers.. Playing hero had never been part of the plan, the plan was to just survive and slay Cazador.. The road to freedom.

The very first time he slept with Tav was almost no different from when he slept with his marks. The smell of alcohol and dopamine intertwined with adrenaline was Cazador’s favourite part of his ritual. Only to end it with watching his slaves dine on dead putrid rats while he had finished feasting on his victims. 

But the second time, at the party, it.. The air had changed. While Tav had not been a victim or target in his mind, the first one night stand was without feeling, just sex. 

Asking him the first time was easy, the second time not so much. He was more hesitant, nervous about the journey and going out to sleep in the woods again.

With every pick-up line possible, Astarion kept shooting his shot, wondering to himself why he had been so insistent to sleep with him again even though his protection should be guaranteed by now.

It was less ‘’need to’’ and more ‘’want to’’ or.. ‘’I yearn to,’’ With a lack of better words to explain what he was feeling.. Unsure how to express it beyond physical touch.

When he eventually managed to convince Tav he would be safe, they sneaked away from the festivities to their previous spot.

He recalls walking to the little moonlight lit grove, only to turn around to see Tav quietly and slowly slid his shirt off his shoulders. The light reflected off his skin, glimmering.

While Astarion had pictured this is what he looked like to Tav that first time together, now the roles were reversed and he was mesmerised. There was something incredibly dreamy to him, unforgettable. An ache in his chest and a throb to his undead heart.

Astarion stalled, his fingers firmly clenching his own shirt while he watched Tav never take his eyes off him while undressing himself.

He didn’t realise he had frozen until Tav walked up to him bare, laying a hand on his and guiding him only to stop. ‘’Are you alright..?’’ Tav questioned in a gentle tone.

‘’Are you sure you want this right now?’’

‘’I want you.. I want to devour you.’’ Astarion replied, unfreezing and quickly undoing his clothes to join him bare.

The kiss that followed left him wanting more and more as he drowned into the touch, that uncomfortable feeling of arousal rose up and down until it found its rhythm, sending a wave of pleasure flowing through him.

His hands travelled over Tav’s skin, dancing across tiny hidden scars, pinching the subtle curves in his body. Tav’s back arched, he moaned the second Astarion’s lips found his neck.

He could bite him right there and then, but preferred to tease him.

The scent of alcohol intertwined with dopamine had something to it.. It was much sweeter without the addition of Adrenaline, which had a salty and unsettling flavour to it.

Tav kept drawing him in, his hands caressing gentle patterns over Astarion’s back and his arms. It wasn’t long until their bodies crashed onto the bedroll, with Astarion thrusting himself into Tav’s embrace.

Tav moaned so sweetly, covering his face with his arm out of vulnerability. Astarion wanted to yank his arms above his head, but decided on a gentler approach, kissing his neck until he relaxed in between the thrusts. 

When they found a common ground within the rhythm, Astarion started moaning loudly into Tav’s skin. Burying himself with sloppy kisses across his collar bone, licking the sweat off his neck.

He cried out Tav’s name, who only moaned in response at their shared climax. He took a loud breath before opening his eyes looking into Astarion’s directly. Astarion stared back dreamily, pondering in silence.

This was bliss.. It must be. It has to be.

Tav looked at him with cheeks flushed, brushing Hair out of his face. ‘’Careful now, if you’re going to keep looking at me like that I might actually start to believe you’re in love with me.’’ His chest heaved, a pure moment of honesty.

Astarion remembers the weight of the pit in his stomach. Such a sweet moment, one he ruined like so many others.. ‘’Only for tonight, darling.’’ A charming line, perhaps the biggest lie he’s ever said, and he did it so confidently. Scripted, rehearsed.

Tav’s eyes glazed over somewhat, he released a sigh, stretching beneath Astarion. ‘’You haven’t pulled out.’’ He muttered, looking away almost embarrassed as if they did not just have extremely hot passionate sex.

Astarion smirked, feeling rather gloomy when he pulled away, he frowned at Tav, who had now turned to his side, avoiding eye contact.

The vision of the memory began shifting by force, making Astarion roll his head during trance. He couldn’t control what he’d see next.

Astarion could see Tav’s vulnerable bare body one moment, only to be exchanged with a tearful and exhausted expression of shock back at the elfsong inn.

‘’You’re asking too much of me right now, I just want to sleep, to rest.’’

‘’You want to rest? Right now? Walk away in the middle of the most important conversation you’ve ever had?’’

‘’Astarion I-’’

‘’You know what, forget it. I don’t need this.’’

‘’What? I didn’t mean to insult you- today has been a lot for both of us-’’

Astarion couldn’t hear the words he shouted even though they came out of his own mouth, the once so sweet dream now ruined by the night of his enlarged ego. The rush of power fresh in his veins, only to be aimed in the wrong direction.. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t. He was overcome with emotions he could not control, and in that moment he broke his own heart in two.

‘’I’m just so tired..’’

The exhaustive look on Tav’s face came back into his mind, as he turned around and disappeared through smoke and dust.

‘’I’m sorry.’’

The words echoed loudly, sounding just as real and new as the first time he’d spoken them. Astarion could envision the scared look on Tav’s face back in the alley, the nervous glances before he ran off.

He could feel the pressure of his squeeze in the palm on his hand, which shook him out of trance. The wet dream had been pleasant, but now there was just the scent of guilt hanging in the air.

‘’I need a bath..’’

……

The wizard of Waterdeep! Gale Dekarios.. A Teacher at Blackstaff Academy teaching Illusion. Exalted wizard of a  and Ex-chosen of Mystra. Son of Morena Dekarios and beloved friend of Tara the tressym.

Not too long ago, he visited his friends 6 months after the defeat of the netherbrain on invitation by Withers.

Gale had been elated, exhausted, as his new job came with a lot of complications.. And he was much in need of seeing familiar faces. ‘’A social palette cleanser’’ Tara called it, ‘’Since you have no other friends,’’ and it had been.. Refreshing. Surely.. Up until the revelation that everyone’s busy lives meant no one had actively looked for Tav. Except for Jaheira perhaps..

Gale’s priority had been to fulfil his promise to deliver the crown to Mystra and be rid of the orb, at the time he had hoped to run into his friends again as soon as it was over with. Eager to get out of Mystra’s hair and her eye, her hands and her whims.

Who would’ve thought that being a goddess’ lover was to be a sour experience? He was over her, that much was certain.. But his acceptance of his mortality and station somehow invoked in her the idea that she could potentially influence him again. To control him.

Requesting Gale to kamikaze had been the tipping point for him to realise their power dynamic, he nearly went over the edge, compelled to take the crown for himself and pursue godhood. But no, he was above it. He was above her antics, even as a mortal.

And this time.. Gale rejected Mystra. He worried she’d smite him for the act, but no. She was satisfied and tossed him out of her realm after business had finished.

No more social calls from Elminster occurred since. Nothing, not even a letter. Perhaps the centuries old arch mage tried to distance himself from Gale for good reasons. Or, Mystra had demanded it. And Mystra gets everything she wants.

Not that it mattered to Gale anymore, he was on a different mission now. One that had nothing to do with mindflayer invasions, hoax cults on the rise, ancient artefacts, or the goddamn goddess of magic herself. 

Tara had looked forward to Gale taking a vacation from his stressful job of teaching young adults the wonders of illusion magic, so she could perch in his lap without him enduring overtime on writing original lesson material..

Gale was a stickler for details, much to the academy’s dismay.. He could not keep his word to give his class a beginner friendly course, so they saddled him with a class of chaotic mages instead. A challenge he gladly undertook, enjoying the opportunity to put his students in their place by threatening to blow himself up every now and then.

To his students' obliviousness, the orb was long gone. No more netherese influence for Gale. No more worries about blowing up the wrong place at the wrong time.

Unfortunately for Gale, his life had become chaotic still. Not because of orbs or goddesses, but because the quest to locate Tav in neverwinter had been much easier than he thought it would be.

He’d only just arrived at his holiday location and secured a place of stay when he came across a quirky little tavern tucked away in a very busy district of the city. Gale made a mental note to visit it, when he was stopped by a sending spell sent directly into his mind.

‘’Professor Dekarios. Urgent. Dharma’s gone missing. Think she went after you. Very worried. Please be lenient. Need the class. Send her home.’’

Twenty-two words, three short for a sending spell. But he recognised the voice of Dharma's mother. The woman had been dismissive of her daughter’s increasingly concerning demeanour towards him. If she was coming after him on his vacation, Gale could finally begin the procedure to ban her from his class formally…

With a flash of orange hair dye, she was right behind him, not moments later. He eyed the young woman trying to convey his disappointment by facial expression alone. He could lecture her of course, but she wasn’t worth his personal time nor his elaborate vocabulary. Learning from his past relationship alone, he opted to ignore her to see if she could take a hint.. But it simply invited her to follow him into the tavern.

After scolding Dharma with much needed help from the halfling tavern owner, Gale clapped eyes on a malnourished and gloomy looking Tav. They never spoke a word, but it kept him thinking. At first Gale thought Tav was pretending to not know him.. He looked depressed at most. Gale felt guilty.. But also suspicioned something else was going on.

The halfling was too excited for his repeated visits, and Tav’s quick glances were that of a complete stranger. Gale hoped Tav would call him out, tell him to leave. Yell at him for not coming after him.. For not helping him with whatever he appears to be going through. 

Yet.. He never does. Never, even if he had every opportunity to do so as Gale kept visiting. Gale enjoyed his little vacation exploring books with Jilvy’s other customers during club hours. A means to pass the time.. To observe.

Tav’s body language did not change. Tav’s expression did not change. A moment had passed where he could’ve feigned a look of recognition, and Gale wanted to speak up, he simply couldn’t make himself do it. Tav never questioned his silent attempts to make conversation. Didn’t question him for staring. He kept working, never sitting still for too long unless he started feeling sick. And he was sick very often.

Finally, he concluded that Tav was experiencing some sort of memory loss. Unsure of the cause, he reflected to the last moment he saw his dear friend. The absent-minded glossed over eyes, apathetic and exhausted. The same look that he bears on his doll-like expression every single day nowadays.

What could’ve caused this? The trauma of the final fight? He recalls some debris hitting Tav’s head during the fall into the chiontar.. But shadowheart fixed him up before he suddenly walked off, so.. They’ve been through many battles and Tav always kept standing right back up leading the party through the fray bravely.

Gale searched his memories, pondering for some time.. Quickly he came to a stop. There simply was no way to be sure about Tav’s situation if he didn’t talk to Tav to begin with.

Observing him quietly was weird and doing so made Gale feel creeped out by himself.

He’d hoped to run into Jaheira, Shadowheart… Or anyone else really, to converse about the situation. No. It was time to take the matter into his own hands.

He had to confront Tav. To confront his guilt for abandoning him. Surely Tav would understand he had to rid himself of the orb? But.. Then he got a job as a professor and lost track of time..

Tav was an empathetic person, but also a survival-centred individual. He definitely would’ve understood it wasn’t personal.

This conversation had to happen regardless of how Gale felt about it. He owed it to Tav.

When he made it to the tavern, it was the closing hour. He’d hoped to pass a letter to Jilvy to request a private conversation with Tav in a safe environment outside of work. He wasn’t sure how Tav would take it if he really had amnesia.

Only.. The door was left wide open. Gale stared at it, sensing an arcane disturbance in the air. He turned his head to see Jilvy waltz up to him with suspicious eyes.

‘’What’s the meaning of this?’’ The halfling looked up, carrying a large bag of supplies over her shoulder. Her suspicion faded when she recognized the worry in Gale’s eyes and took note of the letter in his hand.

‘’I shouldn’t have taken too long..’’ Jilvy drops the bag into Gale’s arms forcefully as she inspects the door. One of the hinges had come loose and it was dangling from the spare.

‘’Tav is your lost friend, isn’t he?’’ Jilvy continued, looking for the door’s missing screws in the snow. ‘’You knew?’’ Gale’s eyebrows raised in surprise from Jilvy’s casual tone.

‘’I figured as much, the boy clearly has amnesia. And I assume you figured that out yourself as well?’’ She turned her head up to Gale with the recovered metals in her hands.

Gale didn’t answer her, he looked at the footsteps in the snow, noticing a disparity in pacing. He turned around to follow the pattern, recognizing fresh imprints. One was from someone who’d have jumped abnormally far, blowing snow out of the way while doing so.. The others were dragging their heels, moving with force, as if carrying something heavy that needed focus to maintain stability.

‘’A moment, miss Fogwater.’’ Gale handed back the bag of supplies to Jilvy as she watched him draw a few symbols by hand and mutter some incantations.

‘’vide magica.’’

The divination ritual spell takes hold, and Gale sees the traces of magic. Psionic, and very familiar.. One he had only rid himself off months ago. Netherse magic. Tav must’ve retained a semblance of his illithid abilities to make that forceful jump forward. The psionic energy lingered on the ground and the door..

The remainder of the arcane traces of weave he saw were much more worrying. A failed charm spell, and a disintegrate spell, unfired. 

‘’This is bad.’’ Gale mumbled, Jilvy was about to ask him what he meant by that when Tav came running back out of breath. He nearly tripped over a pile of toppled snow when he saw the wizard with his boss. 

‘’Tav! You’re back.. Oh dear. I’m sorry-’’ Jilvy puts her groceries down on the ground this time, not pausing to make sure it wouldn’t fall to its side.

Gale puts away the letter in his coat, silently watching the halfling comfort Tav as if he were a lost boy. 

Tav, out of breath, barely able to speak, manages to stutter. ‘’T..The- Door..’’

‘’Dharma.’’ Gale can barely hear the name as it falls from his lips, only to see Tav shockingly look behind him, trying to find Dharma. He figured out she went after Tav because of his visits.. Tav’s reaction speaks volumes.

‘’Dharma who? She owes me a new door. The brat.’’ Jilvy continues patting Tav’s back as he’s trying to regain composure. ‘’I’m fine..’’ He mutters, walking over to grab her groceries for her, the halfling stops him midway. ‘’You’re not fine! You’re sweating rivers in the middle of a very cold winter evening!’’ She pulls his hands away and holds them together.

‘’Come, come, come inside. Tell me what happened.’’ She nods to Gale, suggesting he better join them.

Tav, nauseous from his experience, takes a moment to recuperate so Jilvy serves him a hot drink. Not tea, chocolate milk.

He takes a large gulp before he speaks his story, retelling from his weird night time experiences and hearing movements.. To the visit during closing hours and being pursued.

‘’Why didn’t you ask the guards for help? No- you would.. They’re.. Ugh, no matter! Those folks are too busy trying to catch a homicidal freak. Dharma owes me a door and food supplies!’’ Jilvy huffs. ‘’Has no one respect for small business owners these days?’’

Jilvy stops mid tantrum when she takes notice of Tav’s posture stiffening. ‘’And my dear employee, of course.’’ She puts her hand on his, trying to comfort him.. Tav’s stiffness does not let up. He lets out a nervous breath.

Gale raises his eyebrows at that. There’s a homicidal freak going around neverwinter? He’s only been here for little more than a week and he’s never heard of it. ‘’Homicidal freak..? I thought neverwinter was the most civilised place out there.. Well, I guess Volo doesn’t know the splendours of Waterdeep very well.’’ He jests, referencing a quote of one of Volo’s guides.

Then again.. There was some commotion in the town squares not too long ago. Perhaps he overlooked something, too busy with his vacation activities.

‘’Aye, red curved dagger. Attacked a wintershield guard during his off duties. Unusual, there’s posters of it drawn up everywhere.’’ Jilvy interrupts his thoughts.

The description, it just.. It just clicks. For Gale at least. A red curved dagger.. Unusual design, and the only likely culprit.. Tav may appear nervous on the outside from Dharma’s murder attempt, but he might in fact be hiding for committing a crime.. Whatever for? 

Tav wasn’t someone who’d just lash out against authority figures on a whim. He was very particular about avoiding the flaming fist while they were trying to figure out how to get rid of the steel watch.

‘’I’ll make sure to write a lengthy report to the blackstaff academy, if you could.. Write a complaint I can add, seeing as your business was damaged in the drama of uh.. This student’s behaviour.’’ Gale swallows. ‘’If you could, keep it out of the wintershield’s hands, I aim to look for Dharma and have her sent off as soon as possible. This is my problem to begin with.’’ He searches his pockets for his wallet. ‘’And mine to fix..’’

‘’No, no.. I can’t just take your money, dear. I’ll write a lengthy report of expenses with my complaint.’’ Jilvy answers. ‘’I prefer earning it the normal way. Besides, Tav is a victim here as well. And.. You two need to talk.’’ She brushes gently against Tav’s arm, giving his hand another squeeze. ‘’Just yell my name if you need me, dear.’’ Then, she departs with the bag of groceries in hand, not before putting a curtain in place of the broken door.

The chill creeps in, Gale takes a sip of his cup of water, watching Tav’s absent-minded eyes for a moment. He can see him shiver.

‘’Do you remember me?’’ Gale asks, finally. And to his dismay, Tav’s eyes remain the same. He looks to him as if he’s a barely familiar stranger.

‘’You’re the wizard that’s here on vacation.. Gale, right?’’ Tav answers, he brushes his hand through his hair, fidgeting with his cup.

Gale tries to figure out if now is really the best time to break the news.. Tav is vulnerable, but he isn’t sure how vulnerable.

 ‘’Yes, that’s correct.’’ He pauses. ‘’And I came here, looking for you.’’ He looks into his water, avoiding eye contact.

Tav stammers a bit, he puts his cup down and avoids looking at Gale as well. ‘’A-ah..’’ The room grows quiet as more of the eerie wind outside creeps in.

‘’..Am I a bad person..?’’ Tav whispers.

‘’What..?’’

‘’..I.. Must be.. I keep seeing these flashes..’’

Gale isn’t sure how to answer that, but it does answer some of the riddles.. Tav’s amnesia is definitely traumatic. He should’ve known. The signs were all there.. The absent eyes, the apathy and gloom. His self-neglect, he isn’t acting like himself.

‘’I think I’m being punished.’’ Tav sobs, hiding his face in his hands. ‘’You came looking for me.. I don’t even know if I deserve it-’’ He wails softly, trying to hold back his cries and plants his face on the table.

Gale stands from his seat and sits beside him with his knees on the floor, pulling Tav from his position into a hug. ‘’You were a hero. At least to me.’’ He allows him to stain his coat with tears and mucus as Tav continues to cry in his confusion. When he calms down, he wipes the snot from his nose, looking uncomfortable from his own actions.

‘’I don’t even know who you are.’’

Gale gives him a gentle smile and grabs his hand, reassuring him. ‘’I’ll tell you all you want to know my friend.. But first, I need to take care of this Dharma problem. I endangered you necessarily.. This is my fault. You shouldn’t be..’’ Gale shakes his head. ‘’I’ll come back, make sure to stay with your boss, Jilvy, you’re safe here.’’

Tav looks confused by his words and gentleness, the wizard is determined to act and return as soon as possible so he could help Tav. To repay the favour. 

It wasn’t too long ago Gale had spent days thinking of ending his own life.. And Tav was the one to tell him he deserved to live. And live he did.. Time is of the essence.

…

It wasn’t just Gale who was concerned with spending his time wisely. The next day, Astarion stumbled on towards the tavern, noticing the posters plastered all over the windows. As a Tiefling adventurer, he did look a little similar to his noble Elf self.. But only a keenly trained eye could notice the similarities. His curls were black and long, and so were his sclera dark and intimidating in this form. The red skin and ridges matched with glamoured armour did a lot for this disguise. Attractive on its own, he thinks.

He casually stood there, reading the advertisements the tavern owner had put up.. Something about a book club and a bookstore offering discounts for members.

He pondered for a moment if he should just knock on the door and act as an oblivious customer when a halfling popped the crooked door open and started chattering about the posters to him.

Astarion barely listened to her rambling when he turned around and smiled friendly.

‘’..And I suppose I could really hire someone to look after my employee.’’

Oh, damn. He really should’ve listened to what she was saying.

Given the context, this was Tav’s boss.. She likely heard of the attack yesterday and worried about him. A little odd, he thought. This halfling spends money to protect her lone employee..? A motherly look in her eyes softened his suspicious concerns for her reasoning.

But.. The door looked awfully damaged.. Perhaps she was just looking out for her business.. No, she could fire Tav from his job if she didn’t care for him. 

What an opportunity!

‘’You want to hire me as a bouncer..? For your.. Tea tavern?’’ Astarion asked, making sure.

‘’Yes, that’s what I was getting at, you look like the opportune sort? Fancy the job? I don’t want my employee and customers to worry though.. So you could pretend to be a regular.’’ The halfling nodded, clearly happy with her idea.

‘’That makes sense.. I’m expensive though.’’ Astarion thought about it, he needed to look professional to make sure the woman didn’t get second thoughts. ‘’To be honest, I think I ran into your employee yesterday- he was being chased by a.. Mage. Asked me to pretend to be his boyfriend. Are you sure hiring me is a good idea?’’

‘’Hmm.’’ Jilvy eyed his tiefling form, thinking long and hard. Then she grins. ‘’If you give me a discount on hiring you, you eat for free.’’ This halfling.. He liked her attitude. ‘’Just don’t eat all my supplies, deal?’’

‘’I wouldn’t dream of it. My name is..’’ He paused, trying to think of a good tiefling name. He had to decide fast so hoped the name wasn’t too unusual for a tiefling. ‘’Morlock.. Grey.’’ He’d almost used Karlach’s last name, but that wouldn’t be good for cover. If his friends were around, they’d put one and two together.

‘’Your name means Black Grey? Huh. Parents weren’t the creative sort.’’ The halfling then realised her tone may have been a bit.. Offensive. ‘’Oh, sorry. That was unprofessional. I am Jilvy fogwater.’’

‘’Hah! I’m a tiefling Ma’am. I don’t need to explain my.. Past, obviously.. It’s not the pleasant kind, all too common for someone growing up with horns and a tail.’’ He figured that she wouldn’t ask more, considering how he remembers the elturel tiefling refugees being treated by their surroundings. All tieflings experience some sort of discrimination. Many aren’t even born to tiefling parents..

Jilvy grows a sympathetic look, she stares at the ground for a moment. ‘’Well, nice to meet you, Morlock.’’

‘’Let's talk business, how many hours per day? How much? Will I be paid weekly or per hours?’’

‘’I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you, Morlock.’’

‘’Likewise.. Mrs fogwater.’’

He follows her into the tavern, partially listening to Jilvy pretending that he’s signing up for the book club and discussing the latest hot novella gossip.

He’s only been there barely three seconds when his eyes meet with Tav again. He doesn’t seem too surprised, just put off by a familiar face with a raised brow. Then, without a worry in the world he continues checking on his baked goods.. Working efficiently and unbothered by Astarion’s presence..

To him, there wasn’t Astarion though.. There was Morlock, the tiefling adventurer who’d saved him the day before.

‘’Aye, Tav, come here for a sec. I heard you met Morlock?’’ Jilvy chimes in, it's almost as if she read Astarion’s mind.

‘’Oh, yeah- I didn’t catch your name…B-before.. Hi.’’ He looks flustered. If only for a little bit, the glazed-over doll eyes disappear. There is a light in the darkness.

Even in this disguise, Astarion has some hold over him. Not that he can tell it’s Astarion though.. Which is the point.

But, that aside.. Astarion feels a little jealous at the looks he’s giving to Morlock.

So.. His plot thickens, while he schemes to create the perfect scenario to get Tav back in his arms, as soon as possible.

[moramaisis]

Characters: Ascended Astarion, my tav Arsenia (tiefling)

Pairing: m/f

Keywords and warnings: villain couple, lip biting, kissing, lip bite play, dom tav, romantic, dark romance, mentions of torture at the beginning.

May be minor spoilers to Cazador's scene.

Ao3

Edit: I reworked it some more. Hopefully it's better.

----------

It has been a long night down at the underground levels of Cazador's palace. A long and difficult night, but i endured. I enjoyed setting all those hulking beasts on fire, hearing their whimpers as their scorched fur filled the air with nauseating stench.

Ever since my lover told me about his life in the Szarr palace, the torture and humiliation he endured, i have been seething. Silently and keeping my heart a locked stronghold. Spending time with our adventure party and cracking jokes with them made me forget. Just for a short while. Sometimes i even cracked some risky ones to my beloved, i enjoy teasing him, but made sure to never go too far.

Tonight, however, when all of us were covered in blood and gore, the master of the night hid in his coffin like a true coward. I was expecting more, something grand, but all i wanted was to see Astarion ripping him apart.

There he was, my lover, tearing open the coffin and throwing the man- who will soon cease to be - on the floor.

Cazador mumbled his threats, as expected, and then Astartion asked for my help. The look in his eyes is something i'll never forget.

I didn't even hesitate, he was already cursed and once you're barely human you start looking at things differently.

This ritual could make him a sun-walker end make his life come full circle. From the bottom to the top. I, Arsenia, grew up in the wilderness, learned to hunt as a tiny girl with nubs on my forehead. Learned to trap monsters, cook, make clothing, defend myself and my family. I know the laws of nature well, they're often unmerciful and unfair, best you can hope is a quick death.

I linked our tadpoles and let him see the scars. Standing in the background, i inched closer to enjoy the scene. Astarion ripped Cazador's clothing off and exposed a pale lean muscular body, adorned with bruises and cuts. When Astarion stabbed his dagger into Cazador's back, he uttered a bleak cry of pain. That very second a wave of arousal caressed my loins. Throbbing after each delightful scream. It was joyful hearing the screams of the man who was going to kill my lover and gods know how many more people after that. I never expected to get such a physical reaction, but it wasn't unwelcome.

Shadowheart yelled something in the back, how dangerous the ritual was or that we should stop. Honestly, i was fully in the moment, feasting my eyes on every cut and turn of the blade. On every scream... and yelp and tremor.

I've seen Astarion's scar so many times that i can see it with my eyes closed. There's something beautiful in it. Then again, the skin of your lover makes everything beautiful.

Once the ritual was over, he seemed different, slightly distracted. I asked him if all was well and he said that the world seems to move at a faster speed. He said that he felt how all the lowly creatures wanted to serve. I had an odd feeling then, down in my chest. He looked at me with those eyes that could coax me into anything and said he could hear that in me too. My quickened pulse. How i'm waiting for a command. That clever little bastard knows what he's doing, i felt the urge to grab his waist and squeeze it tightly against my body. I wanted to crush him in my arms. Rip his lips off his face with a single lustful kiss.

I'm a tiefling with draconic ancestry, my blood is fire and my instincts murmur inside my veins like songbirds, i'm a good head taller than Astarion, life in the wild has made me muscular and strong. Astarion never called me a monster, unlike some people in the cities and villages i have travelled through. I accepted him as he was. Sure, he was a great companion, silver tongue, not bad-looking either, but his skills with the blade and bloodthirst conquered me. Out in the wild i was forced to use my blade more than once, use my magic to both hunt and burn faces of thieves.

I knew ascension would change some part of him, but i hoped, blindly like all lovers, that no great harm would be done. I wanted my lover to meet his full potential - he seemed to hunger for the ritual too – so i gladly lent a helping hand. So, the circle was complete, the predator ate the weakling creature, what's next?

Astarion stepped closer and asked me about immortal life. He said he wants me in his future, as his consort, and i said yes. I'm growing weary of hiking from town to village to town, always the same, hunting, working as a blade for hire, moving again. My parents were killed in the outlands. Their graves are growing moss and lichen. The more i see in my travels, the less i want to settle down. Humans are such evil bastards. So many unspeakable things have my eyes gazed upon.

This adventure gave me a family… a lover. Astario, he's speaking of taking over Baldur's Gate and it might just be the piss of 7000 souls in his head…but…if he's serious, i can't say that i want to stop him. Ever since we entered the city all i saw was prejudice, cruelty, rudeness, corruption. I bet my left horn we would to a better job as rulers. Me and Astarion.

"Can i kiss you?" i asked and he smiled, pointing to the ground. He expected me to kneel, but i'm not into that kind of play. At least when not in the right mood.

I straightened my shoulders and snatched Astarion into my arms, holding him like some groom would hold his shy wife. He looked so beautiful in my arms, in his new fancy silks, and that little expression of surprise suited him very well. That tiny surprise morphed into a heavy-lidded grin.

"I forgot, you never liked taking orders."

"That's what you get for making the most stubborn tiefling your spawn."

I press my lips against his and our kiss is passionate and sloppy. Our tongues are engaged in a dominance battle. Then i feel a sting in my lip and notice a crimson fluid smearing on Astarion's cheek. I stare at him quietly, as he gazes back, eyes half-closed and inquisitive.

I run the tip of my tongue across my lower lip and find a spot where the salty taste intensifies. I lick the wound slowly, under Astarion's unmoving stare. The crimson tastes intoxicatingly sweet, i lick the wound once more, spread the crimson nectar onto my upper lip and go into another deep, yet needy kiss. Astarion grabs my face and sucks on my wound greedily. I enjoy his animalistic passion, it's not too different from my own. I give him a minute and then his soft gorgeous upper lip is between my teeth, and i bite. I take over his mouth and relish every salt-flavored kiss he gives me. He mumbles in delight and his hand on my neck clenches, pulling me closer. Lust is written all over our grimy little bloodstained faces.

[gremlinenthusiast]

My D&D Party Nonsense

Amon Leonech: A Tiefling/Changeling Warlock of Nyarlathotep Amon embodies a true rags to riches story, going from a homeless urchin in a dirty trench coat, to a suave business tycoon and is the most unpredictable and dangerous being you should hope to never get involved with, because if you do he'll either scam you, put you in crippling debt, or just straight up kill you. Amon took many forms throughout the campaign and got up to a metric fuck ton of morally questionable shenanigans, throughout the campaign, he did the following. -Slaughtered thousands of goblins in a single day -Committed several acts of violent manslaughter -Used his adventuring spoils to purchase a large plot of land and made an apple orchard (He likes apples) -Made a contract with a spectator named Specky (Pictured above) to run his orchard for him so he could focus on adventuring -Got turned into a smoldering corpse and came back as a host for the lich lord Acererak (We fixed that problem like two weeks later)

(Smoldering corpse Amon pictured above) -Became one of the top ten richest people in the world from selling the wine he made with the apples from his massive orchard. (He REALLY likes apples) -Terraformed a time dilated pocket dimension (10 minutes outside of the pocket dimension is equivalent to 1 year inside) and left two baboons in it to "see what would happen", which lead to Amon having an entire hyper advanced isolated society sitting in his backpack, which he would check in on every few days.

Throughout his adventures, Amon also turned his Pact weapon (A Halberd called Brimstone) into one of the most powerful magic weapons in all the planes of existence. Brimstone was a sentient weapon too, but they had a much healthier relationship than Wulfram and Dra'ak. Amon also became a decent parent/caretaker through trial and error. Over the span of the campaign, Amon collected various pets and had several children through unorthodox means.

-Amon and another party member adopted a little orphan girl they had saved early on in the campaign, but she was very neglected after the other party member's tragic death. -Amon found a little talking monkey skeleton made out of Tarrasque sperm, which he neglected less than the orphan girl, but mainly because it served a purpose in combat. -Amon got a disabled kraken baby, two unique dragon mounts and a sky bison, all of which were left in various places and completely forgotten about. -Amon also ate the eyes of two separate beholders and birthed these beholders in new humanoid bodies, one was evil and tried to kill him, the other was chill and now has a wife and travels with a different party while taking care of the anti-christ

Without a doubt, Amon's most successful and undeniably favorite of his children / pets was the baby platypus he purchased at a Petsmart he visited while the part was stuck 4,000 years in the past. This platypus was one of the last of it's kind and in the time it was with Amon, it was given a magic crown that made it immortal and granted it psionic powers and heightened intelligence. Amon also went to the prison planet of Minethys when he died for the third time. Minethys is the afterlife for People consumed by greed and a lust for power, and Amon was somehow able to outmatch the greed of all the other denizens of this afterlife and become the defacto-ruler of the planet after killing all the previous ones in a 1,000 year war of attrition. After the rest of the party retrieved him from his afterlife turned capitalist paradise, he became a god with the help of a ritual performed by his Platypus son who had spent the last 4,000 years gathering followers for his father to prepare for this ritual.

He later lost his godhood, becoming mortal again, but still ridiculously powerful. After the final climactic battle of the campaign, Amon focused all his efforts into taking his orchard (which was now the size of a small country) and suspending it in the sky, in order to separate it from the rest of the world's squabbles. making it a peaceful sovereign nation for him and his denizens who still worshipped him like a god, even though he no longer was, mechanically speaking at least.

[blackjackkent]

Oh my god bahahaha Lae'zel is coming onto Hector again, this time in broad daylight in the middle of the road to the creche. HOW? WHY?

I know they patched out the awkward thing at the tiefling party where she would try to seduce you even if she didn't actually like you yet, so...what, has Hector really come up that far in her estimation? She's been in CAMP most of the game.

What is happening.

(I have nothing against a Lae'zel romance, in fact I'm romancing her in the playthrough I'm doing on stream, but WHY is she of all people the first one to be having this conversation with Hector?)

So uh. Ahem. I was going to have Hector talk to Lae'zel bc he wanted to follow up on the whole question of whether the gith actually murdered all the monks in the monastery, but instead I was offered this conversational option:

"Is it me, or have you been looking at me differently?"

Surely, said I - surely this is not romance-related. This makes sense; after all, she's had a few recent conversations of expression more trust in him, surely this is about how they're becoming more comfortable with each other as teammates.

Surely.

"I have a confession," says Lae'zel. "I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless, gutless, unimpressively bland."

OK. This is all still fine. It's true they didn't start off with a very good impression of each other. "And I thought you cruel, stubborn, and judgmental," I have Hector say, already planning out in my mind writing a post about how they have grown to see past the initial impressions and find some respect for each o--

"Yes. All that is true. I am cold as the Sea of Night," says Lae'zel. "But you have stoked fires I didn't know I possessed. I swear, you would tear the horns off one dragon for plunging into another. You've gained my respect, and more still, my yearning. When I come near, your odor alone is enough to make my neck sweat and my hairs stand on end."

...

...

[blink][blink][blink][blink]

Excuse me, what?

I'm fucking dyingggg because this is all playing out while Karlach is standing directly next to him and this is all incredibly awkward.

I don't even know what to say here. This isn't *quite* as out of left field as it was at the tiefling party, but it's up there.

...

"Hold on," Hector says, as awkwardly as humanly possible, his neck flushing bright red. "Are you coming onto me?"

Lae'zel gives an exaggerated, exasperated sigh, as if even after all this time she can't quite believe he can be this dense. "Isn't it obvious?"

She squares off in front of him, arms folded, eyes direct, jaw set, as if going into battle, and stares him down. "I want to taste you. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps later. But I want it all the same."

Her eyes narrow to slits, demanding an answer. "Do you?"

Hector is red as a tomato at this point and just stares at her for a minute, trying to think past the intensity of her gaze long enough to form words. "I'm...flattered, but the answer is 'no'," he finally gets out, in a rather strangled tone.

Even having lived as isolated as he has from such matters, he's not immune to the fact that she is attractive. He's not even immune to the fact that what she's offering is probably, on some level, something he needs - he's already begun thinking, back in the Zhent hideout, about how the people he is traveling with are the first he has known at the degree of intensity required for true bonding, even for romance.

And even before that - in the midst of the Weave with Gale, or even when Astarion drank his blood that night in camp - he's had moments where he's been reminded of the reality of his body as it exists beyond dusty books and dry rituals, out here in the "real world," and has felt the need to ground himself in physical experience even if he hasn't known how to express it.

But Lae'zel...is not who he would have chosen. She is simply too intense for him; she intimidates him tremendously. He *is* growing to respect her, but she would run roughshod over him and he is fully aware of it.

And...he's also acutely aware of Karlach standing nearby watching this whole interchange, for reasons he cannot articulate either.

Lae'zel raises an eyebrow at him. "Your loss, I fear," she says coolly, appearing thoroughly unembarrassed by either the confession or his response to it. "One day soon, you will wonder how my lips might have tasted, how my fingers on your skin might have felt. And you will wish you had returned to this lost moment."

[dujour13]

Ok, for the Pathfinder Winter prompts, of course I'm gonna ask Ritual of Stardust for Siavash and Woljif! If someone else has already asked that, how about Kissing in the Snow?

@silversiren1101 I grouped these together (great minds you two) and threw in the kiss in the snow. Thanks for the asks 🥰

Pathfinder Winter Solstice prompts here

*TW: minor references to drugs and alcohol

The Abyss had robbed them of six precious months they could never make up for. The only silver lining Siavash could think of was that one of those months was Lamashan, so this year he didn’t have to organize Iomedae’s Ascension festival. He had a better idea.

“It organizes itself,” he told Anevia excitedly. “You just whisper the word on the wind, and people show up.”

“What about food? Latrines? Sec—”

“They bring everything they need, and always a little extra to share. They clean up after themselves, and anyway it’s a battlefield. There’s no money allowed—it’s all gifts and barter, so no need for tariffs or regulations.”

“Security, was what I was going to say.”

“Yes, all right, I’ll concede that part.”

“Which will be my job.”

“I’ll help,” he shrugged. “Come on, Nev, it’ll be fine.”

She heaved a sigh. “Morale could use a boost, I suppose.”

“Well, that’s for sure.”

Thus it was that a few short weeks later the biggest Ritual of Stardust ever not organized began to gather on the flat, blasted plains south of Drezen. Festive carriages rolled in pulled by ponies in jingling, feathered harnesses. Colorful tents were erected full of arts and crafts and music. Mobs of people in all sorts of bizarre costumes spontaneously formed to dance, cook soup, dig privies or build whimsical, towering, temporary statues out of scrap wood and stone.

The Worldwound in the middle of Kuthona was swept with a dry, stinging cold wind so brittle and insidious Siavash feared people would turn away, but Desna’s gentle hand diverted the wind and tucked insulating clouds like a down comforter over the sky, and the day before the bonfires it began to snow like a soft dream.

On the longest night of the year, thousands had come to gather around the bonfire and sing songs to the Great Dreamer, to join hands in the dark, full of hope at the turning point when day would outstrip night again at last, just as the Fifth Crusade too seemed to be rising from its ashes: the Return from the Abyss. But most all, they came to party.

With his new wings, Siavash blended into the crowd of costumed revelers effortlessly. He mingled with the Free and not-so-free Crusaders, marginally succeeded in getting Lann to relax, sang a few songs, and spent some time in Daeran’s extravagant tent until things got a little too wild even for his taste, and then went in search of Woljif.

He was in the main tent by a mulled wine stand, deep in conversation with another tiefling, a hand on one hip and the other thrown over the top of the wine vendor’s awning in an unselfconscious, casually graceful pose, tail darting back and forth. A cunning smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. There was a streak of glitter on his right horn he was probably unaware of. Looks like Aivu snuck up on him.

Siavash watched him and felt that little thrill—like he had caught a falling star or a rare butterfly, something elusive and unique: this man so different from himself, so full of surprises, so clever and charming and hopeful and brave.

He couldn’t wait another minute. He dove in and seized him around the waist. “Sorry, it’s urgent,” he apologized over his shoulder to the other tiefling as he threw a fur-lined cloak over his shoulders and guided him out of the tent.

“Chief I was in the middle of—”

“I said it was urgent.” He took Woljif’s hand and they tramped through the snow to the huge central bonfire, now burnt low, and stood for a while watching the sparks rise and the snowflakes fall against a starless velvet backdrop of night.

“So… urgent, huh?” Woljif asked presently.

Siavash produced a pouch from his pocket and poured a small handful of sparkling red dust into his palm.

“That’s not some a’ Daeran’s stash is it? I wouldn’t if I were you, chief.”

“No. It’s a star ruby, ground to dust.”

“Wait, what? A ruby? How much is that—”

“Don’t worry.” Siavash put an arm around his shoulders and held up the handful of twinkling ruby shards. “Make a wish.”

Woljif shook his head but couldn’t repress a smile. When the chief was like this, you just had to roll with it. “If you say so.”

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment in the firelight, blinking away snowflakes.

Then Siavash tossed the dust into the wind and it shimmered against the night sky like a million crimson stars.

“I have something for you.” Siavash was smiling like an excited child. “But you’ll have to pick my pocket to get it.”

“You’re such a flake. Fine.” Woljif’s hand darted into his pocket, and came out… with the Moon of the Abyss. Just like that day he’d hidden it in that Andoren sap’s pocket so the Thieflings wouldn’t find it, only this time, he was the one in for a surprise.

The clouded demonic crystal he had destroyed in the Abyss had been replaced with a clear, bright sapphire like a spring morning.

“Chief—how much did this cost? Are you crazy?”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sorry—Siavash, I—” Woljif had to grab him and bury his face in his neck for fear someone would think the snowflakes melting on his cheeks were something else. Siavash felt him trembling with emotion.

A clear blue sky—freedom, instead of domination. An azata’s legacy, instead of a demon’s.

When he felt he could trust his voice again he pulled back and clasped the familiar silver necklace around his neck. His eyes were shining. “Thanks.”

Siavash brushed snowflakes from his cheek and drew his mouth in. Their lips touched tenderly.

“Hey hey, you two! Come on in out of the snow, you’re gonna catch your death,” Seelah beckoned loudly, her color high, beer sloshing from the mug in her hand.

In embarrassment they broke off.

She threw her arms around both of them, completely spilling her beer this time. “Now, this is my first Starlight—”

“Stardust.”

“—Stardust, and I’m sold. Is there such a thing as a paladin of Desna? Oh shit, don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I think Iomedae slammed the door when she left.”

Seelah grinned at the two of them. “So, heh, you two gonna make this official or what?”

There was an awkward silence.

“Contracts, priests, vows,” said Siavash. “Way to kill romance, Seelah.”

A little too quickly, Woljif agreed. “Yeah, who needs that stuff. I’ve had my share a’ the literal ball and chain. I’m done with that. Imagine, we’d be at each other’s throats about doin’ the dishes and takin’ out the trash, and…”

As he chattered, Siavash and Seelah exchanged a glance.

“Romance, yeah,” Seelah said, barely repressing a laugh. “Well, you can still throw a party, right?”

“Seelah, I think you spilled your beer.”

“Oh yeah. Better go fill up, eh?”

“Yeah,” Siavash said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

They watched as she half-stumbled off through the snow.

“Boy, Seelah sure does put her foot in it sometimes, I swear,” Woljif was complaining. “Remember that one time at the Half Measure with Elan, and she was layin’ into me about deserting and Jannah was sittin’ right there—”

“Woljif, stop talking for a second.”

“What?”

Siavash took a deep breath. It was not something he had ever contemplated. Simply not in his nature. But the look that had passed across Woljif’s face—halfway between hope and panic, like a puppy about to catch the cat he’d been chasing—and he knew he had to do it.

He was afraid his voice would sound strangled but he forced it out: “Do you, uh, do you want to?”

Woljif turned the deepest shade of crimson he had ever seen him. He swallowed hard, looking past Siavash, eyes going glazed for a moment.

“Nah. Nah, I’m good. You?”

“You know you have my heart.”

Woljif grinned. “Contracts are for suckers.”

“I know, right? And devils.”

“Thanks for askin’.”

“I’m so glad you said no,” Siavash laughed. “I love you so much.”

Woljif threw his arms around him and held him tight. It was weird, almost like that wish stuff actually worked.

[rennybu]

could u tell more about beja.. love their design sm..

MY LITTLE GUYYUYUYUYUY............. OHHHHKAY here’s the ultimate Beja thought ramble under the cut

THIS POST IS SUPER LONG OH M Y GOD.. OH YMG OD ENJOY ENJOY!!!!!!!!!

BEJA WAS MY VERY FIRST DND CHARACTER!!!!! The dm had years of experience and was really excited at my idea that beja be half-orc, half-tiefling, and let me play him with my choice of stat increases + tiefling race bonuses!! so i think he had +2 charisma and +1 constitution instead of the usual intelligence.

Beja’s backstory is very bleak and with (seemingly) few strings attached to it... he’s an orphan, or was abandoned, and was raised as a street kid in a small town and grew up into a life of odd jobs and eventually some underground involvement.. mostly a courier or small goods smuggler, and he did ok at it! he was very good at keeping his head down and was happy to travel without the pressure of leaving anyone behind. loner king

eventuallyyy a local gang/cult gave him a fake job which lead to him being abducted and forced into an experimental pact ritual, like a guinea pig for something long forgotten and newly rediscovered. the cultists didn’t care whether he lived or died, only that a connection with their forgotten god would be made. SURPRISE! the pact worked! and beja became sworn to an entity his mind could barely grasp the introduction to! he lashed out in panic with his newfound powers and killed most of his captors, and fled the town with nothing but the clothes on his back!!

his backstory from that point is that he lived a very paranoid and mobile life alone, never staying too long in any town or city for fear that the cult might find him and force him into some kind of service. his pact (with Tharizdun, unbeknownst to him o///o) made him irritable and outright antisocial, giving him nightmares and auditory hallucinations on his bad days. paired with his rough upbringing he found himself unopposed to committing petty crime but he still tried to keep a sense of normalcy by working odd jobs where he could find them, usually at inns or stables or campuses. keeping his hands busy = good for brain!!!

he got very very good at eavesdropping and people watching and kept a firm hold of any rumor threads that he thought might be connected to the cult, in the hopes he might one day catch a member unawares and get answers about his unknown patron and the pact he finds himself in. he’s in survival mode for a good long while here!!!!

and then one day he meets @gacpars OC, Rhagot :’~) he’s a wonderfully fascinating character and I don’t want to describe him poorly so IN BRIEF... the 2 meet by chance before having to part ways, but that time is enough for Beja to get a taste of. gentle curiosity (MUTUAL), interest (NON-THREATENING, ALSO MUTUAL), and. COMPANY!!!!!! and Rhagot is like “ok youre my soul mate. here have this braided silver ring” (their relationship is a whole other essay and i want to draw more of them bc they make my heart and brain ache in a good way)

circumstances cause them to part ways and Beja finds himself travelling with an adventuring party! CAMPAIGN START! long story short turns out the cult is a lot more insidiously widespread and in the years since lil ol Beja’s forced ritual, the cult has been swearing their own members into Tharizdun’s service (voluntary <3) and ummmm growing their power and sacrificing people to him, blood for the blood god etc etc.

he has a really interesting arc here!!! he’s TERRIFIED of the power his pact grants him, both in the sense that he has NO desire to draw power from the forgotten chained god of chaos? death? nothingness? AND that as he gets stronger, his appearance and habits become more monstrous and less predictable. BUT he’s better able to protect those he calls friends. its a very fine line for him and he kills some folks as one does in an edgy blood apocalypse DND campaign, steals some relics, threatens some cultists, writes some poems, etc. He has a very weird Frodo-and-Smeagol type relationship with his familiar (pact of the chaaaiinnnn), a quasit that later grows into a spined devil, because he sees himself in it. a creature bound to serve something it had no choice in! they get along (strained). I am very in love w the irony of him being his most vulnerable (emotionally/morally) at his most powerful (stacking all those Great Old One eldritch invocations babey)

eventually his impulses push him to attune to one of the relics he steals (a very shiny rod of the pact keeper. sobs i wanted +3 spell damage i wanted it so fucking bad) and he gets CURRRRRSSEED!!!!!!!!!!! A SUPER POWERFUL CURSE that our cleric didn’t have high enough spell slots to lift. it was an exhaustion curse and he got like four days into it until the cleric tried a slightly homebrewed Divine Intervention/Wish spell combo to “cure him of all curses that afflict him”

and well! because he’s seen his pact as a curse since the first moment he was saddled with it! the pact is COMPLETELY SEVERED as the other curse is lifted. HE IS FREE!!! and he leans very hard into his hobby of poetry, and as they travel he re-learns spellcasting, and learns to play the hand harp, and apprentices with different travelling bards and tavern-buskers until the DM let me call him a bard of the college of valor!!! filling the void left by his patron with art and song...

soooon after that the campaign ended up disbanding u__u BUT beja left the party to be alone once more, travelling until he one day reunites with and marries Rhagot. they RETIRE into DOMESTIC BLISS in a SMALL VILLAGE where they teach each other PEACE!!!!! oh my god i need to draw them more.

THANK U FOR ASKING! AND READING! i’m very fond of him even though it’s been years since the campaign.... i still do develop him from time to time, or think of his character arc and backstory.... my son.... my grey goth son....

[syrupwit]

Letter for Chocolate Box 2021

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Hello there, and welcome to my letter for Chocolate Box Exchange 2021! I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to read this letter. I hope that it will provide you with clarification, inspiration, or at the very least a bit of entertainment.

I have requested fic only for all items below. Although I’ve written more for some sections and less for others, rest assured that I would be thrilled to receive a gift for any of the requested fandoms or relationships. 

Please see the table of contents below:

Likes

Do Not Want (DNW)

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Fandom: Planescape: Torment

Fandom: Stellar Firma

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LIKES

My general/SFW likes include: 

Surreality and weirdness

Character studies

Lore and worldbuilding

Humor and comedy, especially dark comedy

Psychological, paranormal, and cosmic horror

Stories-within-a-story

Unreliable narrators

Unusual team-ups

Dramatic rescues

Canon divergence AUs

Unconventional formats

My smut/NSFW likes include:

First times

Awkwardness

Characters being super into each other, especially if one or both of them are conventionally unattractive

Jealousy

Xeno

Humiliation with a male sub

Tease and denial

Orgasm delay; also orgasm denial

Dominant bottoms

Mutual dubcon/noncon, or dubcon where the dubconned party enjoys it

I have a very long list of fic likes here.

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DO NOT WANT (DNW)

Characters under age 16 involved in sexual situations

Sex without mutual attraction

Hate speech or hate crimes (discussions/mentions of bigotry are fine)

Harm to animals (the existence of ghost animals is OK, and it’s fine to mention animals that have canonically died, but I don’t want to hear about injury, abuse, or noncanonical death of animals)

Bestiality

Scat

Necrophilia (sexual activity involving ghosts or sentient skeletons/undead is OK, just not inanimate corpses or remains)

Sexual activity involving worms / spiders / insects

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THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

Requested Ships: Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson, Agnes Montague/Gertrude Robinson, Evan Lukas/Naomi Herne, Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker, Harriet Fairchild & Simon Fairchild

One of my favorite pieces of horror media! <3 I’ve requested mostly rarepairs for this exchange. Please don’t look to the amount I’ve written to gauge how much I want one pairing over another -- I want all these things equally and would be happy with any of them.

Adelard Dekker/Gertrude Robinson

The respect, rapport, and humor between these two is palpable in the text of Dekker’s statements and the way Gertrude talks about him. She was still holding onto his plans to disrupt rituals after he presumably died. I’d love to know more about their working relationship, the foes they faced, and whatever’s going on with Dekker’s relationship to the Web. Extinction!Dekker would also be awesome.

If you want to get into Dekker’s faith versus Gertrude’s lack-of, please do! I’m really interested in the way that religion/faith functions in a world like TMA’s, and I love conflicts between characters where neither “side” is cast as “right” by the narrative but it’s clear why everyone believes the things they do. But if you’re not interested in touching on this topic, no worries.

Agnes Montague/Gertrude Robinson

Star-crossed as hell. I refuse to believe that they only met once, or that they were entirely somber and fateful and dutiful about it. imo Gertrude generally comes off as contemptuous or irreverent about other entities and avatars, but she seems to reserve a certain respect for Agnes. Agnes... I’d just like to know more about Agnes.

I’d love to hear about their history: how their metaphysical bond works in daily life, the encounters or near misses they’ve had over the decades, the ways they’ve helped or foiled each other from a distance. I would especially love some outsider POV, whether it’s Gertrude receiving statements about Agnes, Agnes hearing of Gertrude’s exploits secondhand, or a third party perceiving a meeting between them. A statement directly from Agnes could also be awesome.

I’d love any AU where they have to work more closely together, as well -- be it canon divergence, or a setting AU like vampire/vampire hunter. (Oooh. Buffyverse AU with Gertrude as a Watcher and Agnes as the leader of the vampire cult that killed her latest Slayer, y/n?)

Evan Lukas/Naomi Herne

“Alone” was one of the first episodes in the podcast that really got me, and the image of Naomi running between those open graves is still striking. I feel terrible for Evan and am so curious about his fate. I’d love to hear more about their relationship, anything that might have happened to Naomi post-Eyepocalypse, or an AU where Naomi rescues Evan from the Lonely or vice versa.

Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker

These two have never met on-air, but I think they’d really get along. They’re both quick, driven, given to quips and reasoned action, and possessed of tragic backstories. Whether they meet somehow pre-canon, Tim finds Gerry’s book in the time between Jon’s return from America and the Unknowing, or there’s a full AU scenario, I would love to see them interact. I think there could be some interesting tension around Gerry’s decision to consciously align himself with the Eye versus Tim’s unwilling conscription, and the ways their family histories have forced them into contact with the supernatural.

Harriet Fairchild & Simon Fairchild

Harriet Fairchild is a one-episode background character with barely a handful of third-hand lines, but I’m very intrigued by her. Simon is a sparkling example of Affable Evil and I would enjoy reading more about his philosophy and relationships with others. I’m interested in the family dynasties connected to the entities and just kind of want to know more.

What are the Fairchilds, and how do they create new family members? Who was Harriet before she became a Fairchild? How does she conceive of the Vast, and what is her attraction to it (or aversion-turned-attraction)? Who is Simon to her -- teacher, tormentor-turned-teacher, evil father figure -- and how do they agree and diverge on how best to serve their patron? I really love explorations of avatars’ different relationships with their respective entities, so I would adore something about that. 

Some things that particularly compel me about the Vast: the image and name of the Falling Titan, freedom in nihilism, the comfort of insignificance, call of the void, oceans / storms / cliffs, space, scales of size so large they’re not humanly comprehensible, love for the sky, adrenaline and excitement, hollowness / emptiness, unusual manifestations, alliances and rivalries with other powers.

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PLANESCAPE: TORMENT

Requested Ships: Annah-of-the-Shadows & Fall-from-Grace, Annah-of-the-Shadows/Fall-from-Grace, Morte & The Nameless One, Morte/The Nameless One

I completed this game for the first time in fall 2020 and enjoyed the hell out of it. I’ve only played through twice, and I haven’t explored all the routes or possible encounters; please excuse the current gaps and mistakes in my canon knowledge!

Annah-of-the-Shadows & Fall-from-Grace | Annah-of-the-Shadows/Fall-from-Grace

I fell for Annah because of her voice acting (the affectionate wryness! the ill-concealed vulnerability!), and Grace because I love older female characters whose stoic or gracious exteriors conceal fortresses of discipline. While I’m not in love with the way women are written in Planescape: Torment, I really like both these specific characters and crave more interactions between them. Their relationship has a great deal of tension with no real resolution, and they have an interesting mix of similarities and contrasts. I think there are some fascinating possibilities to explore with them, whether platonically or romantically. 

Annah mistrusts and is jealous of Grace. Meanwhile, Grace seems disappointed when Annah rejects her friendly overtures, and repeatedly shows protectiveness towards her. (What does Grace see in Annah, besides a romantic rival or just a younger woman who doesn’t like her? If they had met earlier, how would Grace have tried to cultivate her?) Annah is hotheaded and ruled by emotion, while Grace keeps her arguably more tumultuous feelings under rigid control. Then Annah’s implied discomfort with her heritage as a tiefling, and Grace’s turmoil over her identity and past trauma as a tanar’ri, are another potentially exploitable source of conflict. 

I’d love something about a bonding attempt on Grace’s part gone awry -- does it get criminal? Unexpectedly dangerous? Uncomfortably sexy? An exploration of how they deal with things post-ending (any ending), or just everyday interactions with the citizens and environment of Sigil, would also be awesome. Hurt/comfort, too -- maybe something where Annah is trying to be stoic while Grace heals her, or a situation where Annah has to take care of Grace and is super out of her element? Or maybe Annah gets mazed somehow, and is shocked when Grace shows up to rescue her? These are all merely suggestions though. 

Morte & The Nameless One | Morte/The Nameless One

One of the most complicated relationships in the game, and also (in my opinion) the most intriguing. I’m really interested in Morte’s loyalty to the Nameless One and the way his guilt intersects with and fuels it. They have such a long, twisted history, and the player’s decisions can put so many different spins on it. I’d really love anything about them, shippy or gen. (I would prefer that the focus be kept off their romantic/sexual relationships with women or aspirations toward the same, particularly the sexually harassing comments.)

I’m a massive, massive sucker for comic relief characters encountering serious/dark situations, so I would love anything with Morte in that vein, whether it’s one of his canonical moments of peril (getting stolen by Lothar! potentially being traded to the Pillar of Skulls!) or a new situation. A past incarnation of the Nameless One could also provide the peril. Their relationship has gone through near infinite iterations -- there’s so much to exploit there, and so much opportunity for angst on Morte’s part (and pining, if you want to go in a shippy direction). 

Further prompts… Hmm. I’d love something that explores the world of Planescape in general and Sigil in particular; I’m particularly fond of the mortuary, the catacombs, and UnderSigil. It’d also be cool to see their first meeting after the “best” ending of the game (where the Nameless One finally dies and goes off to join the Blood War). On the whole, though, anything where these two are together and bantering would be lovely!

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STELLAR FIRMA

Requested Ships: David 7/Trexel Geistman, Trexel Geistman/Hartro Piltz, Number 1/Number 48, David 7 & Trexel Geistman & Hartro Piltz, David 7/Trexel Geistman/Hartro Piltz

It’s difficult to express how much I love this podcast, but rest assured I really, really do. It has been described as a cross between Brazil and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and this strikes me as accurate. I love how the tone is at once exuberantly silly, but also dark and horrifying, in a way that doesn’t try to hammer listeners over the head with its irony. It would be hard not to delight me with any fic about the requested gen relationship and ships.

David 7/Trexel Geistman

I didn’t actually ship these two until I wrote 10k+ words of them talking. Then Season 3 came along, and, well, I LOVE THEM. They’re so fun together, and I love the gradual development of their not-quite-friendship -- those few, short moments of genuine connection, that contrast all the more with Trexel’s everyday self-absorbed cruelty and the oppressive horror of David’s situation.

The potential for jealousy and unrequited pining on Trexel’s part here is particularly delicious. (I would be totally cool with unrequited Trexel->David for this request, by the way.) However, I also love the idea of David realizing, with creeping horror, that he has feelings for Trexel, or that he returns Trexel’s no doubt inconvenient and poorly expressed affections. Imagine the songs they would sing.

In terms of prompts… I really loved the in-universe coffee shop setup; something about their time there, or an AU where they get to stay longer, would be lovely. Playing with tropes could be fantastic -- soulmate/soulbond AUs, arranged marriage, bodyswap, amnesia, wingfic, time loops, fake dating, hurt/comfort, one character being assumed dead when they aren’t (and then it makes the other character realize their feelings, oh no). I’d also really love angst, centered around pining or not. I think some terribly painful things could be done with these characters, and I’d love to read them.

Trexel Geistman/Hartro Piltz

I fell hard for this ship right about when Hartro made Trexel drink clone slurry in Episode 5. I love how much fun she has terrorizing him, how he just has to take it, and how he both fears her and scrambles for her attention. (NB: I am 100% unironically into the foot thing, so feel free to do whatever you’d like with that, including nothing.)

I love what a disaster Hartro is. It’s not her fault that she was assigned to Trexel -- he could drive anyone mad -- but she lets her hatred of him goad her into making terrible decisions. At the same time, as a nonnie on FFA expressed a while ago, it seems like she gets more out of the relationship than she wants to confront or acknowledge. On Trexel’s end, Hartro seems to demonstrate the exact sort of mix of “come here” and “get away from me” that captures his attention.

Kink is baked into this ship, so I’ll try to be shameless about requesting it. I was perhaps overly gratified when Trexel was canonically stated to be a masochist (he likes getting shock-collared! and possibly stepped on!). I’d love anything that goes even further with their canon dynamic -- D/s, punishment, bondage; humiliation, degradation, the foot thing; maybe dubcon with a pre-canon Hartro taking out her frustrations on Trexel, or some sort of incredibly messed up corporate training exercise. 

Explicit kinky content is far from my only interest here, though -- I’d also love romance, a lower-rated exploration of UST, or something that examines their relationship without getting into kink or sex at all. This is one of those ships where, if you make them hold hands in a certain way, hearts will spontaneously explode in my eyes. Just a fact.

Number 1/Number 48

Standards! So sinister. What’s up with them, anyway? How did they meet and agree to file relationship paperwork together? What are their couples counseling sessions with Dr. Krell like? What were the most egregiously vague pronouncements that Number 1 made pre-canon, and what other work assignments have impacted their personal lives and forced them to cancel reservations? ...How did Number 48 get the murder hammer? 

Since these two are, I believe, the highest-ranking members of Stellar Firma to have appeared in the podcast so far, I’d love something about their interactions with other higher-up types or silly protocols or general Brazil-type bureaucratic madness. If there are ominous promises and disturbing implications packaged in crisp business jargon, all the better. 

David 7 & Trexel Geistman & Hartro Piltz | David 7/Trexel Geistman/Hartro Piltz

So, I love these characters and the way they interact. I love that they’re all dramatic and ridiculous in their own ways, and that no one is strictly the straight man or the comic relief (though Trexel does come close to the latter). 

Gen-wise, these three seeing a common goal through together would be delightful, whether it’s something small or grand-scale or completely imaginary. Something science fiction-y, or crossover with another genre like horror or film noir, could be really fun. Additionally, the episode where they all play a TTRPG is one of my favorites -- I’d love something else about them playing a game together or otherwise letting Hartro explore her passion for elaborate props and scenarios. 

Ship-wise, I’ve already talked about why I love David/Trexel and Hartro/Trexel. For David and Hartro, I like that they’re able to have a polite, semi-reasonable conversation, but I was also intrigued by the hint of antagonism in Episode 55, with the angry staring and pointed bed-sitting. I tend to read David as either gay or bi with a heavy preference for men, but I could absolutely get into some David/Hartro rather than a V relationship for this OT3. In terms of shippy prompts, I’m interested in seeing them navigate the same scenarios as in gen, but I would also love some messed up three-person corporate training exercises if you’d like to go that route.

[solitaria-fantasma]

((Session 10 highlights, go!))

Fake Lord Hassan confirmed for “The Shadow” bandit we saw a bounty for waaaaay back in the early sessions.

We also found a set of money printing plates in the pile, so let’s add forgery to the long list of crimes committed here.

We also found (3) Potions of Speed, several boxes of (100) ‘mysteriously’ enchanted arrows, a silvered dagger, and a silvered mace.

I am rushing back and forth between taking notes and cooking a depression meal on mute and Google Docs is lagging HARD to update this 40 page document.

We wrapped up this arc of the story, and left the country to head on home!

We escorted Colette back to her homeland, and as thanks, she gave the party her blue Cloak of Protection.

I voted for it to go to Mountain, on the grounds that he is also blue, and it would match his color scheme….also he has the lowest AC of the party bc his player never upgraded his armor.

The rest of the party couldn’t decide, though, so the cloak went into storage as we traveled onward.

“So you all travel back to Phwie. You bond, and your hearts grow five sizes.”

We brought the magical dowry chest back to Lady Rose, and gave her the first key we’d found. She pulled out the other key and opened the chest in front of us.

Inside the chest was a tiny clockwork dragonling. It had been intended as a companion for Clarrissa when she was far from home, but Lady Rose gave it to the party, instead, as a tribute to her daughter who had always wanted an adventure.

This tiny dragon saw Udaji (a bigger dragon), decided “that must be my mom!”, and curled up on her flower crown.

Udaji had a sudden understanding of how her father felt when she hatched, cried, and was made its caretaker.

If we feed it metals, it gives us money, and it can also light small flames, and curl up into a pocket-watch form to hide.

It’s a tiny Transformer and I love them.

I’m going to name this clockwork dragonling “Filigree” and nobody can stop me.

The DM approved. ‘Filigree’ it is.

We head back out into town, and find out from the artificer we made a delivery to earlier that Maxine Von Trikona has been asking about us.

As soon as we seemed receptive to seeing Von Trikona again, she teleported our entire party - animals and all - right to her.

She tells us that she’s having a problem with her apprentice, Humphrey - he’s been going off to those ruins we first found him in and doing gods know what, and she wants us to drag him back.

We’re rich now and the reward isn’t super huge, but we’re still on good terms, and still owe Humphrey a semi-apology for stabbing him and only barely healing him in time, so we took the job.

We went back to the ruins where this whole campaign started, and found resurrected bandits waiting for us.

The DM had us roll for Perception and Udaji shattered all her records with a 16, allowing her to hear the muffled screams of some poor captive somewhere within the ruins.

We walked into a trap and every single one of us failed the Will save.

We blacked out, and woke up in a different room, tied up on an arcane circle as our life force was slowly siphoned away from us.

The new player is also tied up with us, and their icon is Dr. Strange. I like them already.

Also we got stripped of our armor and weapons and left in just our skivvies. Udaji is upsET but mostly because we’re lying on bloody stonework.

Aaaaand Humphrey is trying to kill us again. I wish I could say I’m surprised.

“I did not consent to this.”

Matthias keeps talking, and Humphrey keeps getting more and more annoyed, but he doesn’t stop the ritual.

I tried to freeze him with my ice breath, since I was tied up right beside him, and RIGHT as I did so, Mountain cloned himself, and charged.

Humphrey ran away like a little bitch, and teleported away with a magic circle, leaving all of us behind.

We got ourselves untied, and realized that Astrid - along with our dogs - is missing.

Oh nO FILIGREE IS MISSING TOO-

The new wizard - Sane - confirms that the portal Humphrey escaped through (though now inactive) is for interplanar travel.

There were a few more people around the circle who didn’t survive....

Udaji came in clutch with the high investigation rolls, and found a trapdoor in one corner of the room, as well as a lot of super-sketchy, nefarious arcane shit.

She grabbed a book of notes that looked pretty fresh. She may not  know what it’s all about, but Von Trikona probably will!

Mountain recognizes the dead bodies as the judge and a guard from the nearby town that we had dragged Humphrey to jail in early in the story for misdemeanor necromancy.

Claus found a strange pendant, but quickly alerts the rest of us not to touch it.

We open the trapdoor instead, and are instantly hit with the smell of rotting bodies. It’s the corpse storage space - chock full of bodies and personal belongings, all strewn around.

We find our stuff, and we find Filigree!! They’re scared, but unharmed!!!

We do not find our dogs, though.

If Humphrey has hurt Burnt Toast and/or Matthias Jr, I will return him to Von Trikona in a coinpurse.

We’re all missing something - Udaji’s Entertainer’s pack, a week’s worth of rations, a healing potion, and candles are gone.

Mountain is missing his leather armor (hah! Now he’ll HAVE to upgrade!) and his warpick.

Matthias is missing his beloved crown, one of his (stolen) luxury pillows, and his quiver (but not his arrows).

Sane found his psionic focus and cape, and doesn’t seem to be missing anything.

Claus also seems to be able to find all his things.

Astrid is still missing.

“Claus will not heal you [Matthias] if you keep stealing shit from the dead bodies he’s giving final rites to!”

Mountain apparently goes commando under his armor, and is not bothered by his lack of proper clothing. The rest of the party is.

“You’re gonna traumatize Udaji! She’s still a minor!”

Claus gave Mountain a cloak from one of the dead bodies purely for the sake of covering up.

Since the corpse room has no exit, we go back upstairs, and try the door instead.

The door is locked, and has no keyhole or handle. Udaji knocks, but no-one answers.

Mountain tries to bash the door down, fails, and takes four points of bludgeoning damage.

We still have the crystals Sane found, and the teleportation circle Humphrey left behind, but the crystals wouldn’t be strong enough to transport one of us out, let alone all of us, so we go back down to the Corpse Room to look around again.

Mountain found a pressure plate, and when he stepped on it, something clicked upstairs.

Claus is single-handedly throwing dead bodies up the trapdoor so that he can take them out of captivity and properly dispose of them.

We make it out the door…..aaaaand it’s a 10ft drop straight down into a hell realm.

Completely unprepared to explore another realm, the party went back inside and tried to get the portal working.

We failed, and after a while of debating amongst ourselves, we bit the bullet, and headed out to explore this weird realm.

The landscape eventually transitions from barren, craggy rock to green, fertile farmlands

There’s a few adults and a few children around, and Mountain goes up to talk to them, COMPLETELY FORGETTING THAT HE’S STILL    M O S T L Y    N A K E D-

I pointed this out in the chat, and the DM had to mute herself, she was laughing so hard.

We tell the adult Tiefling that we were robbed/nearly murdered by a necromancer, and for the sake of their child, they offer Mountain an outfit out of their closet that they weren’t really wearing.

I HAVE REALIZED THAT IT WAS NEVER SPECIFIED IF I LOST/FOUND MY LUTE AND I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW NOW IF I STILL HAVE IT-

The DM isn’t always looking at the text chat, and my mic is acting weird tonight so I can’t turn it on, so I’m just sitting here sadly as the others progress the story, waiting to hear if Udaji’s family heirloom and prized possession has been lost or not.

The Tiefling farmers tell us that there are a few gates back to our realm relatively nearby, but that the road between them is dangerous.

Our best bet is a semi-permanent gate maintained by a cult of Lythander, and Claus (a cleric of Lythander) perks right up.

The Tiefling farmers give us a very old map, and it turns out that by “relatively nearby”, they mean “on the same continent”.

I STILL HAVE MY LUTE: CONFIRMED!!! Udaji and I feel much better now.

Claus sees that the farmers’ well is a little dry, and uses magic to refill it for them. Suddenly, they’re more willing to give us better deals on trading.

We decide to head for the gate held by the cult of Lythander, and skirt around the magical ‘death zone’ by going through a territory ruled by an ice elemental.

Finally, Udaji’s ice resistance comes in handy!

We need to give a Potion of Darkvision to the wizard bc he’s human and can’t see otherwise, but I’m the one who’s holding it and no-one’s reading the text chat.

We’re starting to chat more than play now, and it’s past 11pm, so we’re probably about done for tonight.

[renaer-is-allegedly-hot]

session 15 notes

Ok true crime as in my new addiction is true crime podcasts specifically about serial killers

Back to the session

 After getting a bit of a reality check from durnan about the supposed strength and power of the xanathar guild…

Protected our home w glyphs of warding

Last day of our contract

Spell is set to fade soon

Asyna is feeding ot

Ot looks at asyna like he's a cornered animal

"ot here's some meat"

Why is krystal roasting me about my lover

He wants poison

Ot is calling his jailers idiotic

Oh no aerana might be spilling beans

I really shouldn't be allowed to play games

Because I will always turn to the chaotic evil character

Aerana isn't giving anything up

Theo tells us about the plumbers who came over last night

Aerana is going to typ, rest of party is staking out house

Shifts to watch ot, adam takes front, asyna tower lookout (it's foggy tho so perception check at disadvantage, 9; city looks a little eerie in the fog)

Cel puts immovable rod across cellar door

Ot is suspicious whenever cel comes in

"you cannot fool me xanathar"

Cel making theo a new cloak

Ot asks cel when he'll turn him into dust

The xanathar can turn ppl into dust

Flare ?

Is flare the brain boy ?

I don't like the energy we've created around the word "enlightenment"

Cel rolls 18 insight check

Ot doesn't think cel is cel

Cel is gonna just vibe witth him

"WHEN U SLAY ME I WILL THINK NOTHING BUT HATEFUL THOUGHTS"

Sorry didn't mean caps but too lazy to fix

Everyone else

Adam in front hissing at neighbors and cats, 7

Hears pavement scuffle, someone approaches and reddish gtray beard person w non-descript gray cloak approaches; trench

Doesn't remember cellar and plumbers guild coming by night before

Trench says he can help

Help get bar open

Used to drink there a lot

Gets parchment and quill with ink

Rolls insight to see if bar was only thing he wasd interested in, 13, trench seems v interested

Works in surveillance, protection

Gives him cel and theo's name "5 copper please"

Gets 5

Adam picks his nose

Theo patrols entrances

13 for perception

Overlaps path w adam's

Aerana to typ

Afternoon when there

Similar pattern to those there; frequent patrons

"if I'm making up words, it's not really hitler"

8 perception

Place feels open, not as packed as it usually is

Still feel sensation of cold from the well

Wizard w pointy red hat a regular

You see goliath wizard talking to a dwarven woman

Aerana sees an elven man (bard) w "ugliest guy you've seen in your goddamn life" dom says but only after we point out he looks like legolas, tuning a lute

Sense you've seen him before

The wellllllllllllllllll

It is better told by a bard

Some patrons old and strange, others just like to drink

But ritual in the storytelling

Durnan built

Gwyliam

Talking in elvish

Place formerly not too populated

But one of durnan's ancestors came over to build upon it and discovered the well

Network of tunnels underneath

20 for history check

Familiar with some of what he's saying

Parents would throw you into the undermountain if you were bad

Undermountain = stirs weird memory in your head

Being told as a child stories of undermountain

Deep dark fearsome place

Mt waterdeep wizard came here once named hallister the black cloak

Hallister - ppl don't know where he was from / if he was real but legendary

Brought apprentices trained in magical arts

Tunneled on peak of mt waterdeep

Legend of undermountain could not be verified as truth

Durnan's ancestor came to typ

Climbed into well

"I wouldn't bring this up around him" - doesn't talk abt

When ancestor returned was fabulously rich

Split money with best friend

Built typ

Occasionally engages in ritual of going

No one truly knows what lies in undermountain but there's something there bc some return but most do not

"it might just be the sewer" - "but don't tell anyone I said that"

Differing renditions

Some say durnan was the one with magical powers and killed everyone in there, or more nuanced speaking only of tragedy of those who return who come back fearful or returning with smaller parties; others talk more of hallister and argue over his life; every night a different story

Ask if he knows anyone who's come back

Gestures to half-orc in corner playing variation of solitaire; great celebration when he returned, he came back with riches

He is a regular

21 history check

Undermountain

Familiar name

"Deepest dungeon of them all"

When sewers were built many passages abandoned bc other halls + passages found, many teams from cellars and plumbers guild died during construction of the sewers

Prisoners often thrown into "undermountain"

Says even tho he's here most days there's still stuff he doesn't understand about it; new community reforged every night

At some point durnan talking to wizard and having a conversation which is odd ? Eventually wizard looks at aerana (old man) skinny pointy red hat

Wizard squinting at aerana then turns back to conversation

Try talking to half-orc

Interesting plated beard almost like that on dwarves wrt ornamentation; jewelry running through it

Wiry half-orc

Not skinny but muscled

Weird tattoos covering one side of his face looking like they change a little bit

Balanced a little precariously

Ask if he wants to play a two-person card game bc he's playing solitaire

Ask for his favorite game, Skipper (slapjack)

Dexterity check

5, 20, 10

First round you lose, his fingers have strange looking rings beautiful but rough-worn bands of steel or other heavy metal

Second you win

Third round he takes

"say not many people can beat me in that game"

"luck favors the bold"

In the well

Hell but now look at him can gamble all he wants

City of balder's gate

Large city rough place to grow up

Turned into rough child living on streets

Says his name is Sand

Balder's gate warlords make life difficult so he decided to leave

Was found in youth by someone who turned his anger into smth holy

Ran into thieves and plunderers of forgotten relics, became brother and sister and decided to take on deepest dungeon of them all

Horrible things - asks if you've heard the song

The yawning portal song

Not many people know the full tale

Was taught to be skeptical (it's in his nature or maybe his name)

Not sure how long he was in there or didn't know when he was in there

No light

Tunnels are confusing and without it would've been lost; found room with throne with snakes for arms

Great hallway with ancient trap

Living things also in there; all manner of beasts and creatures; ppl don't come back bc of those

Killed goblins down there but after the things he's seen and after the things he'd had to do could've gone with killing a few more goblins

Advice ? Some will sell maps of what they found or what they think they've seen; anyone can tell u abt beasts down there

Durnan wouldn't lower us down

Durnan doesn’t send ppl to their deaths

Durnan lowers people he deems worthy

Strong brave smart fast bold enough or some combo

But even then not everyone comes back

It's a place of death

Not buying him lunch lmao

Has broken into dangerous old elf dungeons like in the ones up north and would do it again if he could unsee some of the things he saw down in the well

A place of death but things move in the shadows w tombs down there and tunnels for miles hallways great and tall, treasures, beasts keeping it for themselves

Ask about tattoos

Gift from master

The person who saved him in balder's gate

Steeped in magic of shadows

Powerful bc he is strong but qi is stronger still

Aerana gets back home but starts to rain heavily

Ppl still patrolling

Adam

Sees drow ? W purple colored eyes silver-ish hair hiding weapons under his cloak steps up and says "pardon me" and asks if adam's seen a cat

Large cat - would've know if saw it

Adam sends drow to trench

Adam gives him good up and down look, can he see weapons ? Carrying two cinotaurs ??? Sinotaur ???? Adam rolls insight for cat

14, seems like he's talking abt a cat

Heads off to trench

Asyna in watchtower guessing ppl's names

Cel and theo switch

Theo says hi to ot, ot curled up in corner

Whispers "hey ot what's up"

Says he should've gone with his gut on the day theo arrived

"dark elegance" "the way you glided into the room" - ot on theo

Ot says he knows how the xanathar pays theo

"I guess seeing you was a realization of my deepest fear" a fear he couldn't name or place or knew he had but out of the darkness theo stepped forward

"I'm curious . How long do you leave your victims like this"

Ot starts to cry and says he would beg her to keep him in this place

"this voice you're using I find it sweet"

"I just don't want to wake up before the end"

Theo is gonna get him food

"the poor dead tiefling told me yesterday"

7 insight

Theo does not know what's happening

Says the water theo gives him looks real

Looks at the wall drinks some water

"and it tastes real"

We kinda fucked ot up LMAO OOPS

"I know that you don’t have a heart… but if there's any chance that anything I've ever said or thought about you could take root in your soul"

Theo says she'll consider his request

Sits there for a half hour then asks if that's her real name

"nithlur" or smth like that

Nihloor

"where'd you hear that"

In his head lmao

What if this is like

A tapeworm

In his head

"what does knowledge taste like"

Asks if it's a feeling or a thought

Theo says it's a feeling

Ot says whatever knowledge is it's valuable to the right thing

Wonders if he can take a nap

Gonna take a nap

Adam forgot he made ott think he was dead

Aerana is taking over for theo

Adam takes first watch

Perception check, 22

Raining ohp so at disadvantage gotta do it again

New roll, 12

Rain is still falling

Hears a weird noise coming from outside the house

Uses thaumaturgy to boom voice saying "wake up"

Everyone sleeping wakes up

Goes toward sound

Hears weird growling noise

Goes semi-toward noise w pyrotechnics prepared; darkvision does he see anything

Sees shape

It's not the cat

Unfamiliar, looks like it's flying but more like it's floating

Bobbing up and down in air

Creature w large glassy eye and sagging mouth w lots of sharp teeth

Sticking out from form are eyes attached to a slug protruding off it w glassy eyes hanging off it

Intense stench making icky moaning noise

Adam shits his pants

It's big

The size of its mouth is human size

I've been listening to serial killer podcasts all day

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok, if I’m going to keep proper DM records for D&D on this tumblr, I need to actually write them.

Being An Account of Game #1: In Which Several Youth Attend A Party, And Some Experimental Magic Has Less Than Optimal Results

[all game logs thus far]

The Setting:  It is a Thursday night in the city of Karna Vi, called by many the last surviving bastion of the Trava Empire in Highnorth.  In the mostly student-inhabited districts around the University Karnassa, scholars are working, resting, eating, hanging out--and having parties.

More excitingly, there’s a classics major party tonight.  And it’s not just any classics majors.  It’s the self-styled Young Pre-Glorians.  In a society mostly built on a relatively even mix of human, gnome, and dwarf citizens, where humans are the unnecessarily tall people who don’t live nearly long enough to ever get really good at rulership or scholarship (though gods know you won’t find a more versatile, intense group of people in any species you can name), this little cluster of classics majors includes two humans, two tieflings, and a half-orc, all living in one slightly shabby student apartment.  Every single one of them is going to be dead before they’re a hundred.  Every single one of them is obsessed with figuring out how things worked at least 2000-4000 years ago.  And they party like it.

Our NPC hosts for the evening include Peary (a bubblegum-pink tiefling who makes historically accurate bathtub gin, and reconstructs ancient crafting methods from diary fragments and scraps, and den-mothers all the rest of her roommates with constantly chipper affection); Athenasi (or Athen, a human cleric of the Church of Lost Things made entirely out of sticks and paleness, who buries himself in ancient records trying to reconstruct the specific rituals used to properly worship long-mislaid gods); Riva (an enormous half-orc sportsball player and also wizard who mostly only bothers using spells to light his bonfires and translate dead languages, intent on uncovering the distant origins of magic as written ritual); Lisha (a human who got briefly campus-notorious last year when she reconstructed an ancient power-binding ritual well enough to actually summon an archdemon who hasn’t been seen in three millennia and somewhat incidentally get herself warlock powers); and Wren (a dark-skinned, gray-haired tiefling who knows very nearly everything there is to know about the politics and power struggles spanning half a continent and seven centuries, 5,000 years ago, and does not particularly care to know anything else).

These five like hands-on experimentation and practical research.  They’ve thrown historically-accurate parties in celebration of a dozen ancient forgotten holidays, with Peary’s bathtub gin to really make it work.  There’s rumors about an invitational-only orgy last year.  In short, their parties are the place to be if you’re the kind of nerd who likes to study hard and party harder.  Which...does not quite describe our PCs, but it’s a fun party to be at anyway.

Marion the human paladin has spent enough afternoons pouring through ancient records with fellow church acolyte Athen that they can’t really turn down the invite, even if Athen’s insistence on “you need to talk to other live people more than once a week!” is ridiculous and hyperbolic anyway.  Kevin the elf barbarian has been a cornerstone of the University sportsball team for ten years straight, and would never turn down a party invite from a teammate, let alone a party that looks as promising as this one.  Kou the halfling bard, who spends so much time with the music-majors half the university forgets she isn’t one, got invited along with her bard friends to be the entertainment.  

Gnome rogue Reigenleif, of course, is the beer supply.  Reigenleif is always the beer supply.

It’s a Thursday night, and a four-bedroom apartment with attached rooftop deck is crowded full of graduate students eating cheese, drinking a dozen different kinds of alcohol, and arguing about history.  Life is, for the moment, good.

The Hooks:

One by one, each of our PCs--vaguely familiar to one another, in a nodding-acquaintance sort of way, though nothing like the friends they’ll be by the end of the week, let alone the eventual end of this campaign--finds themselves tugged into conversation with an acquaintance.

First (in-game time, though we played these way out of order thanks to a handy d4), before the party even begins, Reigenleif heads down into Old Town to pick up some beer.  It’s one neighborhood over from the district of ancient, pre-Imperial ruins and thousand-year-old buildings where the University and its denizens live, so most students don’t know to come this far for good, cheap beer in the first place.  (Of course, even if they did they wouldn’t know to go where Reigenleif’s going.)

Her destination is a small bakery owned by two dwarven brothers and a sister.  Out the front, they sell excellent bread, with a very nice additional line in cakes and cupcakes.  Out the back, the middle dwarven brother Milosh acts as middle management for a smuggling ring that’s known in the right, quiet corners for its ability to get just about anything for anyone, given the right place.  Reigenleif runs errands on his say-so on weekends, in between avoiding her own research and helping out with everybody else’s.  Buying a few kegs of decent ale that hasn’t been marked up for tax, and then reselling it to thirsty college students, has basically been paying her rent for the past two years.

“How’s the family?” Milosh asks, and, “how’s that school thing going?”

“Eh,” says Reigenleif, and, “school’s school,” and, “parents still want me to go straight,” which isn’t even a pun because every player at the table is so generally disinterested in heteronormativity that it’s too easy to even bother with.

“You know,” Milosh says, “you really want to do more of this and less of that, could be Anna’s got a job for you.”

Anna’s not a real person--she’s been the code name for the leader of the smuggling ring for over a century, and given that her so-called last name literally means ‘human’, probably if there ever was a real Anna Cheloveko, she’s long dead now.  An Anna job might be hard, but it’ll pay, and then some.

The job, Milosh explains, isn’t too complicated.  There’s a certain package that needs to get to the city of Ormiras, and then past Ormiras a week or so’s travel up into the local mountains.  The contents of the package don’t matter, but with the strictures on the large industrial teleportation circles downtown, it’s unlikely to pass through without comment.  A University student, on the other hand, looking to do some research in the library of another University, could use one of their teleportation circles without anybody raising an eyebrow at their research materials, now, couldn’t they?  Grab a few friends to head with you up into the mountains, and when you come back down, there’d definitely be a job waiting--back here in Karna Vi, or with some of Anna’s friends in Ormiras.

(Reigenleif and her player go on a digression about bags of holding, immovable rods, and other magical items attempting to pass through teleportation circles, and then the potential of measuring continental drift with immovable rods over a long enough period of time.  Milosh raises his eyebrows and wonders if maybe Reigenleif should stick with those University-types after all.  This is about to prove extremely indicative of Reigenleif’s entire character.)

With that offer in mind, Reigenleif heads off, six kegs of ale for thirsty college students in hand.  This would be tricky for the average human, let alone a three-foot gnome, but Milosh lets her borrow the Bag of Holding for the job.  It’s no real risk.  He knows where Reigenleif lives.  He knows where her parents live.  She’s good for it.

Second, an hour or two into the swing of the party, Kevin and Riva are out on the roof deck supervising a cluster of increasingly tipsy party guests as they climb onto each others’ shoulders and attempt to joust with a couple of sportsball sticks.  The pair of them are taller than any two gnomes stacked together.  They are taller than nearly any gnome on top of any dwarf here.  They are taller than most double-stacked dwarves.  They make good referees.

They’re cleaning up some good-natured bruises and spilled beer when Kevin’s friend Poppy finds him.  She’s a half-elf, and barely as tall as his bicep.  She has dark curly hair, and smudged-up makeup, and she is already drunk.

“Kevin,” she says.  “Kevin, Kevin, look.  Can I ask you a favor?  Can I beg you a favor?  Please?”

Poppy is in Kevin’s cohort in the art history department--they started with the same incoming class, ten years ago.  You don’t really graduate out of university, in the Nine Cities.  You study until you get hired into a professorship or government position, or you run out of money, take a lesser job, and quit.  Poppy’s dad is an elf, with plenty of resources to throw in her general direction.  She hasn’t run out of money yet.  Ten years is a lot longer for a half-elf like Poppy than it is for Kevin.

Poppy says, “if I don’t do something big, I will never get hired, ever.  I will never amount to anything.”  She says, “I know there are Glorian-era ruins on the Iris Peninsula that haven’t been found.  I know there’s something there.”  She says, “I know there are elven aesthetic motifs in Glorian-era Irissan fragments.  Seven hundred years before elves ever made it to this continent.  If I go, I can prove it.  It will matter.  It will mean something.”

“You grew up on Iris,” she says.  “And you’re good at hitting things.  Right?”

It’s been 512 years since the Elven Ascendancy broke their isolation and sailed forth into the world for the first time in six millennia.  Five centuries since the very first elves set foot on the continent of Nokomoris.  The Glorian Empire conquered half the Iris Peninsula, and was driven out, and collapsed, a thousand years ago.  Not a single soul under Glorian rule had ever even heard of elves.  And sure, elves live on the Iris Peninsula now--in the cities, like proper elves, in shining tall buildings with a lovely background view of the tangled wilderness where they never, ever go.  Elvish art in Glorian-era ruins?  It would upend everything anybody knew about history.  It would be huge.

“It would probably make my parents really happy if I tried to do a big art history thing instead of focusing on sportsball so much,” Kevin muses.  “Sure, I know people.  We can probably put an expedition together.  I bet my parents would be happy with that.”

(Kevin and his player do sound enthusiastic about the idea of getting some good research and publishable papers, which tells this DM a lot I didn’t already know about his priorities.  Sure, he likes sportsball, but getting an actual job in art history would make his parents happy.  Kevin says ‘that would probably make my parents happy’ like it’s the only long-term life goal he’s ever bothered assuming he probably needs.)

Third, Kou and her band take a set break.

Lio’s been switching between singing and rocking out on the zither, because even in a cluster of bards, Lio makes a good frontwoman.  She’s a tall dwarf, dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyeliner, dark everything.  She’s a star in the music department, a cornerstone of student activities committees, a manic pixie overachiever, a goth anarchist who knows exactly what’s wrong with the world today, the artificial urban-wilderness divide that’s been imposed on society in the new century, the problems of traditional religion and modern capitalism.  She’s a level 3 bard.  She’s got a townie boyfriend in one of the local guilds who doesn’t mind when she makes out with boys, girls, and everything else on offer at parties.  She is, without question, the coolest person Kou knows.

Lio is drinking water and also taking a couple of shots of Peary’s bathtub liquor, and Kou is hanging out and watching the party, and Lio sighs.

“You want to get out of here?” she asks.  “Not tonight, I mean--the whole University conspiracy.  Just go.”

“Yes,” Kou says, instantly on board without a single detail.  Her girlfriend has been gone for three weeks.  Her body is ready.  Her entire everything is ready.  “When?  Where’re we going?”

“We could totally make it as bandits out by Zakri,” Lio says.  “You know they’ve been doing all kinds of weird construction stuff along the main road between the two seas, trying to restart the canal project, and the main road’s been in shambles for months.  I have a total plan.  We could camp out along one of the smaller roads and take out caravans, be bandits, live like queens.  It’d be great.”

“Yes,” Kou says again.  “Absolutely.  I’m in.  I know some healing stuff, and I have a pocketknife.  Let’s do it.”

(Kou asks precisely zero questions about where, or how, or why, or even who, for the entire conversation.  I knew this would be the case by halfway through session 0, and I am delighted to be proven right.  Kou is ready for absolutely everything and absolutely nothing.  It’s going to be great.)

“Hmm, but we’d probably need more people,” Lio muses, in that way people do when they remember all the practical reasons they’re mostly joking about quitting their job and running away to live in the woods.  “Unless you know how to use a sword.”

“I know some people!” Kou says.  “Let me see who I can talk to.  We can totally do this.”

Fourth, Athen takes a break from circling around the party with an eye out for any serious injuries or alcohol poisoning risk to find Marion in the kitchen, eating cheese and arguing about historical probability and textual interpretation with Wren.  They’re having just about as much fun as an antisocial math nerd with a special interest in history can have at a party full of academics who also have a special interest in history--which is kind of a lot, come to think of it.

The party is loud and boisterous, so they head to Athen’s tiny closet of a bedroom to chat.  There’s something he needs to talk about, and Marion’s a good enough friend to listen.

“So you’ve been talking about doing some fieldwork,” Athen says.  “Have you thought about going west?”

Athen’s family lives west of Karna Vi, in the wide highland plains of the Highnorth, where there’s nothing for miles but cattle, a few sheep, a lot of rye and oats, and the occasional potato field.  In his grandfather’s day, they were part of the Trava Empire, and that was fine.  Theoretically their village doesn’t belong to anyone but themselves, now, and they farm as best they can, and sell what surplus they can at the closest big trade-town to someone who carts it into Karna Vi and sells it to city bakers and and housewives and leatherworkers, and it’s fine too, mostly, except for when it’s not.

Lately it’s not, so much.  The Uvencatra Empire in the western mountains has been making some motions towards marching eastward across the plains, and they’re eyeing the region Athen’s family is from next.  He’s concerned.  He’s really concerned.  He’s maybe about to drop out of school concerned.

“You know how to fight things,” Athen says.  “And maybe you’d find things over there, in the Western Orthodox church records.  I can go home and help heal people, but I don’t know how to protect them.”

“Oh, I am not the right member of my family for this,” Marion frets, and Athen frowns.

“Would any of the rest of them care?” he asks.

“Point,” Marion agrees.

(They’ve got a quiet monotone the whole time, slow to assemble sentences except when they start contemplating the actual possibilities of research within the Uvencatra Orthodox churches, spilling out hypotheses and jargon like water.  Marion’s player has degrees in anthropology.  Marion cares about Athen’s problems, but has no real thoughts about them.  Marion has thoughts about historical research.)

“Let me think about it,” Marion says, and the party goes on.

The Fight

By dawn, most of the party has cleared out, though not quite all of it.  A couple of failed Con saves mean that Kou is dozing in a chair in the living room, not quite with it enough to notice the rest of the band leaving, and Marion is passed out cold in Athen’s bed alone.  Reigenleif has spent most of the party hanging off to the side, watching people and occasionally scooping up anything that appears to maybe be a weapon that’s been carelessly left sitting around, tucking it into the Bag of Holding just to make sure this party doesn’t go sideways in a nasty way; she can’t leave until the kegs are given back over into her keeping, so she might as well help clean up.

Kevin, out on the deck, has not actually realized the party has ended yet.  He’s only just beginning to notice the lack of people as the first rays of sunlight creep over the city, and a very loud bang sounds from the top of the roof.

It jolts Kou dozily awake and Marion tumbles onto the floor in an instant.  Kevin and Reigenleif, already outside along with Riva, look up just in time to see the outlines of Wren and Lisha on the roof in the pale morning sun, alongside some billowing smoke and two cat-sized things skittering along the roof tiles in acid green.

Then Wren falls off the roof to the deck and takes so much damage in a ten-foot fall that her scrawny little NPC self ends up unconscious.  Then combat begins.

There’s a flutter and a flurry as the quasits on the roof hiss at everyone and skitter away.  Initiative is nobody’s friend, and fighting something ten feet above everyone’s head isn’t easy, but Reigenleif upends her entire bag of holding and sends a pile of belt knives, a couple of blunt-ended reproduction historical weapons, and a fancy letter opener skittering out over the desk, and hides behind a convenient barrel.  Riva grabs a sportsball stick.  Kou has enough movement to rush out onto the deck just in time to see Lisha fall; “Oh, fuck!” is now the official incantation for her Healing Word, and Wren is safe, although not very happy.

Kevin tries to intimidate the quasits, all six-foot-seven of burly elf growling directly at them, and it actually works on one.  The intimidated quasit instantly turns into a bat and swoops off through an open window into the living room to Get Away.  The other quasit, annoyed at the attempt, casts Fear on Kevin in retaliation.  It is super effective.

Marion makes it out to the living room, wearing no armor but carrying the heaviest candlestick she could grab, just in time to see an acid-green bat swoop through the window and start destroying things.  It’s very early and she is probably slightly hungover but also she’s a good researcher and knows what a quasit looks like, so she whacks it.  It bites her, poison and all--make that definitely pretty hungover.

Athen made it outside around the same time as Kou, and has been trying to heal people who need it as Riva tries to whack at a tiny demon on his roof, Kevin attempts to cower behind a gnome, and Reigenleif and Kou both throw things.  Kevin succeeds in a wisdom save after another round or two, and manages to do some good thwacking damage.  The quasit turns into a foot-long centipede in an attempt to escape, and skitters along the wall through the door into the house, before Kou Cutting Words’s it to death.

Lisha tries to jump off the roof to get down and help, and sprains her ankle.  Athen is already inside giving Marion a hand, and none of the PCs seem inclined to help.

Between Marion and Athen, the second quasit goes down relatively quickly.  The first one has already disappeared into nothingness, and the second one follows soon behind.  Marion lay-on-hands’es themself, and drinks some water, because they have utterly forgotten that quasits have venom at all and damn, this hangover.  The nauseous feeling passes after a minute or so, anyway.  Athen goes outside to heal Lisha, Peary appears from her own room wanting to know what the hell is going on out here, Kou is jumping between ‘I insulted it and it died and I’m real cool!’ and, ‘did my entire band just ditch me here because I fell asleep?’, and everything is equally as chaotic as it was in the middle of the fight, when the knock sounds on the door.

The Head of Campus Housing brought security with him, and he’s not happy.

The Aftermath

Marion pulls rank and some excellent persuasion checks to keep the entire set of Young Pre-Glorians from getting evicted right now, and everybody else in the room from being put on housing probation.  Marion lives with their parents on the other side of the city, or, more accurately, in the library--housing probation doesn’t mean much to them, but it does matter to everyone else.

Lisha, apparently, was attempting to use the limnal nature of sunrise, sitting over a party that both was and was not a party any longer, with people below who were drunk, and dreaming, and no longer drunk, on a day of particular celestial configuration, to do some magic experimentation, because obviously.  Wren wanted a familiar.  Lisha could totally use a ritualistic setup to cast a spell she isn’t high enough level for and doesn’t actually know, and also alter it to bind to somebody that isn’t even her, and make it work.  Maybe not today, but probably next time, right?

The PC’s are somewhat annoyed with Lisha, but also agree that the university just does not have enough ritual magic experimentation labs, and that really needs to be corrected.  They also figure that, housing probation or no, it’s maybe not a bad time to get out of town for a bit.  They’re good at fighting things together!  They’ve got some options!

They toss some ideas around--Kou’s option involves banditry, and Marion’s pretty sure they’re not allowed to do that, but Reigenleif’s has, like, three weeks in the mountains, and that sounds pretty awful too.  Athen and Poppy both need help, and they’re both friends--Kou doesn’t care where they go, and Reigenleif is up for whatever sounds interesting.  Poppy’s research trip sounds like a good way to make the university like them, which after this display might be particularly useful.

In the end, the decision comes down to Marion, who’s happy to help people but is mostly only considering either of these treks as a road to more god-research, to help define the variables to determine the maximum number of gods the Church of Lost Things still has to discover.  There’s a western orthodox church in the Uvencatra Empire, out past where Athen’s family lives, and they could have all sorts of records and knowledge that Marion doesn’t...but nobody knows what the hell is going on in the Iris Peninsula.  The entire place is apparently a forest, and that means people don’t travel it much for some reason?  It’s all sort of unclear and difficult to understand from this side of the continent.  So what the heck, Poppy’s thing it is.

Poppy is somewhat taken aback to be woken up slightly hungover at 10 AM by Kevin and also a random human knocking on her dorm room door to tell her that yes, they and two other people she’s never met are in for her expedition, and also can they leave tomorrow please?  But also sure.  Why not.  These things happen when you ask Kevin for help.  She’ll talk to her advisor to push those expedition grant funds through, and they’ll leave on Monday.  Maybe let’s have lunch or dinner this afternoon?  After Kevin and Marion sleep?

Reigenleif, meanwhile, takes Kou along to return the bag of holding and empty kegs to Milosh, in the hopes that having a highly charismatic good-persuasion bard along might just increase their chances of persuading Milosh to let them keep the Bag of Holding for this journey.  Little does she know that, while Kou is fun and delightful and good at persuasion, she’s also an awkward flailer who doesn’t entirely understand what they’re supposed to be convincing Milosh of in the first place, and has no proficiency in deception whatsoever.

The conversation stumbles and bobbles a bit, before Reigenleaf gets to the meat of the situation: they’re not going to Ormiras, but does Anna maybe need something delivered or picked up from another of the Nine Cities?  Perhaps something on Iris?  Like, say...

“Cloud Bay,” Reigenleif says, naming the only city on the Iris Peninsula she can remember at 7 AM on zero sleep, which is unfortunately not the same one Poppy mentioned to Kevin earlier.

“Cloud Bay?” Milosh says.  “Shitty weather and elves?  What’re you going there for?”

In an attempt to leverage her higher Deception score over Persuasion, Reigenleif starts to spin a relatively believable lie about engineering research and her own degree work.  Unfortunately, she doesn’t roll particularly well.  More fortunately, or perhaps more unfortunately still, Milosh doesn’t actually care ‘why Cloud Bay’, aside from as a rhetorical question, so it’s not particularly useful in any case.

“Look,” Milosh says.  “Let me talk to Anna about Cloud Bay.  Check back in tomorrow or Sunday, maybe we have a job for you there, maybe not.  A’right?”

They snag a couple of muffins on the way out.  Kou feels a little useless, but so be it.  Marion crashes in Kevin’s room, since he just needs a corner to meditate in anyway, and everyone naps until the meet-with-Poppy time in the evening.

The Campaign Plan

Poppy is just a little taken aback at the new crew she seems to’ve acquired, but she’s ready to go and they’re game, so, sure.  Let’s do this.

She elaborates a little on what she told Kevin, in some angles, and says less in others.  The Glorian Empire, as some of the party know better than others, stretched out from here in Karna Vi across most of the Attiks Sea and around the continent.  They sped the civilization in the Midlands, they spread the Eight Churches throughout the continent, they founded cities, they built roads.  They founded Port Charé on the coast of the heavily-forested Iris Peninsula and began to build in, cutting trees and building roads and forts and towns as they went.  Kera the Conqueror, famed emperor, oversaw the expansion across easily half of Iris, naming literally everything after himself as he went.

Iris was hard to conquer, and the Empire began to pull out not long after Kera died.  They left ruins and roads, and the people of Port Charé, who’d lived in this city for two centuries at this point and were not about to move back to the other side of the sea, even if this was going to be the only bastion of civilization for a thousand miles.  There was a working road to Ormiras.  They’d manage.

As for those ruins, deep into Iris--who knows what’s there?

Sober and in front of three strangers, Poppy doesn’t say anything about pre-Elven Incursion elven aesthetics.  It doesn’t really matter, because Kevin told everybody everything, but some things are just too historically improbable to admit you believe.

“So,” says Poppy.  “Are you in?  I can get grant funds and our travel paperwork Monday morning.  We circle into Port Charé and follow the roads as far as they go.  I have an old map, Imperial-era.  We can find things nobody’s seen in hundreds of years.”

The party doesn’t need to ask each other.  They’re in.  They all know they’re in.

Six months on an archaeological expedition in a forest for four city kids, three of whom have never seen anything more than a single ten-acre orchard in their lives?

Oh yeah.  Total piece of cake.

[joyful-mollymauk]

Code’s Molly Theories

Molly Theories Index 

1) indicators that Matt & Tal have stuff planned 2) possible ties between Molly's and Clay's backstories/arcs 3) Lucien's ritual: both his intent and the spellslinger's 4) possible NPC activity going on regarding a rez 5) what a returned Molly-Lucien-other might be like 6) the fire bird

Molly Theory part 1 Matt & Tal Indicators Matt’s first objective is to run a fun game for his friends, and his second is to tell an amazing and coherent story. Back in Campaign 1, resurrecting characters was standard practice, starting with Pike’s low-level death pre-stream. So we know Matt is not opposed to making every rez possible. 

Tal has been crafting Molly’s character since way back in Campaign 1 and was itching to play him even back then. And when Molly died, Tal admitted that he cried all night long and didn’t get any sleep. 

The M9 were gearing up to attempt a rez in episode 27 and then inexplicably acted like rez magic didn’t exist in ep 29. No in-game reason was given for this sudden about-face, so we can only conclude it was an out-of-game decision. 

Only Matt and Tal have authority to call a halt on rezzing Molly. Given the rez frequency last campaign, all the loose story threads, and the sheer amount of love Tal poured into Molly, it wouldn’t make sense for him to just move on. So why else call a halt to rez attempts? 

The only explanations I see are to wait and try at higher levels, when the chance of success is higher, let Tal play a different character temporarily, or leave Molly’s fate purely in the hands of the DM. 

Matt has woven something grand into Molly’s backstory, including a whole cult following, a botched (?) ritual, and a mysterious spellslinger of unknown intent. He’s already had Molly rise from the grave once, giving him plenty of leeway (and a narrative drive) to do so again.

Further evidence of this intent is how gleefully smug Tal got whenever Matt made reference to Molly being dead. As if Tal was excited about that but trying not to say anything. Tal also built Clay with an easy way to leave the narrative whenever it suits him. This is very useful when you know a character is temporary. 

Tal has mentioned that he keeps Molly leveled up along with the rest of the M9. He also slips right back into reacting as Molly whenever stuff about him is mentioned. This proves how ready and eager Tal would be to bring Molly back into the game! He’s waiting patiently but is definitely excited, and oh how ecstatic he’ll be at Molly’s return.

Molly Theory part 2 Lucien & Clay Backstories Clay’s family lived in the woods outside SCR. Something has been twisting the things that live there, and the firbolgs who went to investigate never returned. Lucien ran a cult (?) in that same forest. Whatever they were involved in was magical, secretive, and likely not something the public would approve of. What are the chances of these facts being separate when Matt loves to tie things together? 

Lucien apparently died and came back to life, and Clay is a death cleric who opposes undeath vehemently. If Lucien is tied up in something necromantic, Clay is perfectly designed to combat that. 

Given all this, my personal theory is that investigating the forest’s ailment for Clay will lead the party straight into Molly’s backstory. And, quite possibly, something occupying Molly’s body!

Molly Theory part 3 Lucien’s Ritual  Cree’s impression of Lucien’s ritual was that he was trying to reach “The City.” Whatever the ritual entailed was similar enough to death that Lucien instructed them to not do anything right away if he appeared actually dead. 

 Entering a near-death state to travel sounds like astral projection. The lengths they went through and the apparent danger involved suggest The City couldn’t be reached by normal means. Or perhaps he just needed to get there without his body. 

 But! The ritual was being performed by someone outside of the Tomb Takers and did not have the effect Lucien expected. Either the spellslinger genuinely tried and failed or did something else under the guise of the ritual. 

 The ritual, as it was cast, left Lucien’s body as a nearly empty shell, with only fragments of his original self remaining. If this was the spellslinger’s intent, then perhaps she was trying to clear him out completely so something else could move in. This would mean her first attempt failed. But now that his body is truly empty, she might have the opportunity to try again! 

 So. Why Lucien? If we’re going with this theory, there must be something special enough about him to warrant that level of attention. Perhaps she was simply there to get the book and has no further interest. But those red “eye” marks are not mundane, and Matt very likely jumped on that detail and made them significant.

Molly Theory part 4 Possible NPC Involvement There are three NPCs in play who might involve themselves in “Molly rez” shenanigans. First, there’s Cree. She reveres Lucien far more than the Gentleman, knows that he has died “again,” and has people she can contact for help in bringing him back. 

 The most critical person for Cree to contact is that spellslinger from the capital. She both has the book and cast the original ritual that Lucien returned from. But, as mentioned before, this spellslinger may have her own interests with Lucien’s body. 

 And, on the other side of things, is Gustav. He has little in the way of resources, but he has been set loose by Clay to go take responsibility for whatever grievous wrong he’s been punishing himself over. Interestingly enough, Gustav is also from SCR! He somehow found Molly near his gravesite, cared for him patiently, and helped him grow to be a good person. He also somehow knew about those three demigod-like entities, turning their story into a circus performance way back in episode one! (He portrays the phoenix, or “fire fairy,” as a heroic warrior, fighting for the light.) 

 So. What is he guilty for? Is his story connected to Lucien’s as well? If Gustav gets involved in all this, he’s the only NPC who will be trying to recover Molly. 

Tin hat: Once the M9 encounter Not-Molly, Gustav will reappear as an ally to help them get him back.

Molly Theory part 5 Not-Molly My favorite Not-Molly theory is an avatar of that bird creature, but we’ve got other options too. The spellslinger could be working with some other entity, like a powerful Kryn. Perhaps she wants him as her own puppet, winter soldier style. Or she could actually bring Lucien back, with or without Molly in there as well. 

 We’ve got a lot of unknowns, but one thing is certain: it would be silly of Matt and Tal not to do something with this! 

 Personal hope: we get to see Tal play an evil Not-Molly and giddily torment everybody.

Molly Theory part 6 The Fire Bird Matt has presented the M9 with a mural depicting Ukatoa, a fire bird, and a giant worm. And way back in episode one, Gustav told tale of a mystical serpent that gifts abilities, a “fire fairy” that fights for the light, and terrible beasts whose “bellowing roars will quake the lands of Xhorhas and beyond.” 

“But from that night, a burning light doth keep back shadows’ bane. The strength to fight will set alight the morning sun again. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Ornna the fire fairy.” -Gustav, C2E1 

 So what’s the connection to Molly? Lucien’s name ALSO means “light,” and he was a (rare!) purple tiefling with a scattering of red marks and (going by the official art) dark gray horns. Interestingly enough, those are the same colors Matt gave the fire bird! 

 It’s unclear what Lucien’s motivations were, but he led the Tomb Takers to split away from their previous order because he had “a new path” for them. Cree later stated that he was their new path. (He had also adopted the title “The Nonagon,” which sounds connected to his nine red marks that could not be covered with tattoos.) 

 So. A purple-gray tiefling, named after the light, is granted nine magical red marks that bring him in perfect alignment with the fire bird’s aesthetics. He then becomes the new path for a cult. That sounds like a deliberate link to me. 

 Tin hat: Lucien’s body was sanctified to become that bird’s avatar. And when the M9 catch up to these events, they’ll meet The Nonagon instead.

And that’s what she’s got so far! If anyone has questions you’re welcome to send them in to joyful-mollymauk and I’ll send them on to Code! I’ll also update the Code’s Molly Theories tag when any new canon lore comes along to update these theories or spawn some new ones! 

Thank you Code!!!

[closetededgy]

Bards 5e Spellcasting

Now this is a rather big topic and I have a lot of opinions here, in my last post I ranted about the social issues surrounding bards in a party, as well as addressing the seduce the dragon bard stereotype, and by addressing I mean dousing it in alchemists fire and throwing it into the dumpster where it belongs. I’m sorry that I will be comparing the bard to a lot of spellcasters here, but never the Druid, this is because I know literally nothing about the Druid and I think I have never even attempted to read the Druid class, nothing against druids I’ve just never been in the situation to research them. I need to do that actually.

Onto spellcasting we’ll start with the mechanics first and then move into the lore, and then I’ll talk about my pet peeves about bardic spell casting.

the bards spell list, unlike the cleric or wizard, but very much like the warlock and sorcerer, the bard is incapable of preparing their spell list, rather they know a certain amount of spells, and when they level up they can change out one of these spells if they wish. This means your spell choices are incredibly permanent, which is very difficult when you have so many good utility spells like comprehend languages, feather fall, and more, at your disposal. You have a fair amount of spell slots (looking at you warlocks) and an average amount of available and known spells (looking enviously at you sorcerers). Now here’s where it gets wierd. Now 5e did a good job with making spell lists feel good. Like a clerics spell list reflects devotion to a god very well, the wizards reflects years of dedicated and organised study, the warlocks reflects disorganised and unrelated eldritch secrets randomly flitting through your mind (one minute you’re thinking about comprehend languages, the next it’s misty step.) the sorcerer does well to represent raw nearly uncontrollable power, and the bard does well to represent a jack of all trades, an individual who has spent their life picking up tricks to make their life, and the lives of those around them, better. Day to day spells like mending and prestidigitation. However the known spells list is a little underwhelming to me. Specifically preparation. In my opinion bards should prepare spells like wizards, here is my reasoning.

Bards are not sorcerers, they are not warlocks, you know the meme that wizards spent their whole life studying magic only to end up in a group of people that cheated to get theirs, the 2 people with magic sugar daddies, the spoiled rich kid that inherited it, the guy with the “natural talent” the natural talent guy is meant to be the bard in this meme “I just talk really well” is used to describe their magic. That’s innacurate spend literally 2 minutes reading the description of bards in the players handbook “requires hard study” is a direct quote. They didn’t just randomly discover this power, they knew of its existence because they could feel the power in music and words and performance, and they spent years trying to capture that power, to enhance it, within their own work. They’re power isn’t some do a little improv tune and do magic, they’re power is in doing masterworks of art, and the magic coming from this mastery, as such bards should prepare their spells just as a bard might prepare their performance, they aren’t ready to sing or play every performance they know on cue. They have to get into the right state of mind, make sure they have the right tools and understanding. As it stands their known spell list is a retexture of sorcerers when they should be a retexture of wizards, or one all their own like warlocks. (Maybe you can prepare a theme like the way a wizard chooses a school the bard could say “I’m preparing a drama, and that includes some of their damaging spells, maybe some resurrection spells and such, or “I’m prepping comedy” and get charms and illusions and stuff like that. Just a thought if you ever wanted to make a home brew bard class.) but this is the accurate mechanics and lore of the bard even if the mechanics don’t seem to match the lore.

Spellcasting, here’s...a wierd set of things. Bards can perform rituals somehow, I don’t know why and I don’t know how but technically they can, even though their power is meant to come from mastery of performance they can somehow perform ritual so uhhhhhhhh yeah whatever we’re gonna gloss right over that and onto the next wierd part about bardic Spellcasting, now you might not know this but spellcasters don’t need Spellcasting foci, it’s not well detailed in the players handbook but basically a spell foci replaces material costs for spells when the material cost has no monetary value. Now the bardic Spellcasting feature specifies that bards may use instruments as Spellcasting foci, which means technically they don’t have to, which brings me to my question how the hell do they perform magic without a focus, they don’t have arcane or eldritch knowledge they can’t just know that they need mistletoe for something, their magic isn’t about physical things (I have this pet peeve about sorcerers too, they have the same wierd phrasing) and also is a voice not an instrument? Because In the lore for bard you demonstrated a bard doing magic by humming. Also does that mean all bard spells have verbal components regardless of the spell and thus any feature that supposedly negates the requirement for verbal components on bard Spellcasting is negated by bard Spellcasting and does that also mean all spells performed with an instrument other than your voice require a somatic component regardless of what the spell specifies or if you have say war caster which says you can perform the somatic component while using a shield, but if the somatic component isn’t a hand gesture but rather an interact action with an instrument that wouldn’t make sense but also why would a bard need to perform an arcane hand gesture to perform a spell when the way they do the spell is already their voice, and you wanna know the lore rich deep answer? Yes. The bard has to do magic just like every other class despite doing magic in a completely different way because mystra, the goddess of magic, said so after mystra, the goddess of magic, died for the ten thousandth time. So basically just don’t treat their Spellcasting any different from anyone elses according to the official rules because that’s just how It Works™️

That’s it that’s bardic Spellcasting, an incredibly disappointing conclusion to the interesting possibilities and questions that trying to cast magic with music brings to the table. Also don’t even talk to me about multiclass spellcasting it’s a fucking mess. And by a fucking mess I mean it works exactly the same which is dumb and stupid and wastes the perfect oppurtunity to give spellcasters fun and distinct Spellcasting styles the same way they have fun and distinct spells. You wanna know something else disappointing? Tieflings have innate spells right? You would think, surely that means they don’t have to do the arcane knowledge stuff wizards do to cast those spells right? Surely it’s almost like Breathing to them right? Surely if they were to learn magic they would be able to incorporate their innate magic to the learned magic so they wouldn’t have to actually learn hellish rebuke as a warlock when they already know hellish rebuke? Well guess what, you’re wrong on all counts, innate Spellcasting still requires the correct hand motions and words, they just know them innately, and they cannot use spell slots to cast them despite the fact that they are casted in the same way so if you’re a tiefling warlock and want to cast more than one hellish rebuke a day have fun wasting one of your known spells on it I know this isn’t bard related but it drives me crazy

Next step talks about the confusion surrounding charming magics

[gmsguild]

multiples of 10 for the character asks!!

Thanks Hannah! Answers will refer to my main character, Sahar, my tiefling wizard in a home Tal’Dorei game, but she’s away from the party rn since I’m DMing (our group rotates DMs between arcs). Other folks, if you want to hear more about some of my other characters, let me know! Sahar’s gotten the most playtime recently, but Keoren the halfling monk, Astara the aasimar cleric, Squall the water genasi druid, or Kallisto the minotar barbarian (among others) are all also fair game (some are less fleshed out than others) 10. If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be? So this isn’t an actual instrument/mechanic in the game, and it’s never come up in game, but Sahar can sing. Like, really well. She grew up in a troupe of traveling entertainers and learned from a young age, but she stopped when her troupe died (onset of the Tragic Backstory phase, hit me up for more on this I’m an asshole to my characters) and hasn’t really sung in the last few years. She enjoys dragonchess (keeps her mind active). I think a piece of her would like to paint more (she’s proficient in forger’s tools, it’s just a different sort of art) or pick up the lute and start singing again, this time accompanying herself. 

20. What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made? It’s hard to say whether the late teen years/early 20s spent as an assassin were a mistake since she really didn’t have a choice in the matter? I think at this point she’s starting to view the years she spent working for the Clasp after escaping her Tragic Backstory phase as a mistake. She didn’t have to stay in the life of crime, but she did and she’s not wholly sure how she feels about that? She’s not exactly a law and order gal, but her alignment has been shifting steadily from the neutral evil/True Neutral that she started at in the Tragic Backstory phase towards neutral good/chaotic good and I think she’s questioning whether or not she’s done more harm than good in her life and how she can make up for that. She also really really regrets leaving behind her baby sister in Ank’Harel when she left to try and find work but it’s been almost 10 years now... that’s a fun knife for a future DM rotation to stab me with. 

30. What would most people think when they first see your character? Violently purple tieflings with blackwork partial sleeve tattoos and ice-blue eyes aren’t exactly a common sight in Tal’Dorei. And recently, she’s spent a lot of time in small towns that tend to be a little more judgmental and less cosmopolitan than the big cities. Fear, fascination, disgust, awe... all are fairly common reactions. 

40. Where does your character feel the most at home? Sahar has never settled down in one place. She grew up a nomad, and the Tragic Backstory and her recovery from that left her living a very nomadic lifestyle with her two siblings (triplets!), and now she’s living on the road with her party. She feels most comfortable with a good book or some new spell she’s working on, a nice warm drink, and a cozy spot in an inn by the fire with a few friends. But anywhere with family, chosen or blood related, is home to her. 

50. Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances? That’s a tough one, because Sahar is developing Feelings for one party member but also feels like she has to be the Big Sister to our warlock... She’s also an intensely logical person so like, she’d probably go for whoever she thought had the best chance of helping her save as many people as possible. In a split second decision, it would depend on who she was closest to but I think a big piece of her would pull towards our party warlock since she reminds her of the baby sister she left behind.

60. What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group? It wouldn’t be a single decision. She’s had some concerns about the amount of killing the party does, but at the same time she doesn’t want to leave folks with grudges out there because that’s a knife in the back waiting to happen...  Anything in which children are harmed. If the party knowingly harms children, she’s out of there.  70. What is your character’s biggest pet peeve? People trying to talk to her when she’s ritual casting or absorbed in a problem. She likes to focus. Don’t distract her.  80. How does your character feel about receiving/giving orders? Are they more of a leader, or a follower? Prefers giving. Hates taking. She spent far too long taking orders under threat of torture or with the lives of her siblings held over her head, and she’s started to gain enough confidence to assert herself and she’s very aware she’s Smarter Than You. She’s a team player, but not a follower. Not anymore. She won’t let herself be.  90. Who is your character’s biggest rival? Her siblings Rhana and Zepar in the friendly rivalry sense. There’s some light competition between her and the other spellcasters in the party to do the most impressive shit, but that’s more in her head. And in a less friendly rivalry... she’s got a nemesis or two from her past she wouldn’t mind returning to the Dark Side to kill slowly and painfully. 

100. What, currently, is your character the most curious about? So because of the structure of our group, rotating DMs, she’s split off from the group to do some research in Westruun on a puzzle cube the party nicked off the dead body of a hag they killed, so she’s pretty excited about that. She was a little too curious initially and almost opened a portal to the Hells and freaked out about that for about a week, but now that she’s in a safe place with other trained professionals, I think she’s gonna let that curiosity flow

Whoo! Sorry that’s so wordy that was fun! Thanks! (everyone go check out Hannah’s @drinkingdeadpeopletea sideblog it’s got some great critical role and naddpod content and some other cool shit and she’s a great human!)

[writers-blogck]

A New Adventure Begins ( Mollymauk Tealeaf x Reader ) 02

Warning(s): This will not follow the storyline completely for the second season of Critical Role. This story is more like the characters being placed in a different situation. Also, this story is inspired heavily by mollymaymaukme.tumblr.com/. Go read their stories about Molly. They are so good! Title: A New Adventure Begins Number in Series: Two Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf x Reader Fandom: Critical Role Word Count: 3,258

Song

  Panic filled you as your eyes were blinded by a bright light. This wasn't some fire or light spell, it was so bright! You had never seen something so bright! What if your eyes had something wrong with them? Were you going blind?! You stood up, feeling as if you were being strangled by something. Stumbling around, you attempted to open your eyes but it hurt too much. The light burned your eyes any time you tried to open the, What was going on? You couldn't breathe, you were freaking out. Magic seemed to pop against your skin in your confused state. Were you dying? What was going on? As you struggled, the jacket fell over your eyes, keeping out the light.    "Whoa, whoa, calm down! You're okay! If you keep freaking out, those feet of yours are gonna end up getting burned." Strong arms wrapped around you, steadying you back on your feet. A hand pulled the coat away, causing you to let out a squeal of pain and thrash your arms to cover your eyes again. The jacket had become almost like a blindfold, protecting your eyes from the us. When it was removed, the bright sun attacked your eyes once again.    "Molly, get her in the cart," The thick male accent spoke.    You could feel the gentle arms of Molly (presumably) move you in a direction that you couldn't tell. With every tentative step, your heart beat faster. Why did the light hurt your eyes so much? Large yet thin hands grabbed your waist and see you up on a hard surface. Instinctively, you pushed yourself away from the edge, pulling your knees as close to your chest as possible. How could you protect yourself when you couldn't even see? It was obvious to the others how you were similar to a wild animal, resorting to the basic aspects of the brain.    The wagon shifted as new weight was added. A pair of hands grabbed your own, slowly pulling them away from your eyes. You squinted as you opened your eyes, allowing them to be open just enough to test the waters. The inside of the wagon was dark enough to keep your eyes from being in pain. In front of you was the purple tiefling, holding your hands in his. His red eyes stared at you in what you would call concern, though it was hard to tell without pupils. The dirty man walked forward, bending down to look you in your eyes.    "Caleb, use that big brain of yours and tell me what is going on!"    "I believe because she has been in the Underdark for so long with drow caused her eyes to become adjusted to the dark. They are unaccustomed to the sunlight due to not being exposed to it for so long. She will need time to adjust again."    You totally forgot about the sun, which sounded like such a stupid thing but was true. With how long you were underground, you had forgotten about the sun and it became nothing more of a distant memory. You had escaped during the night when everything was simply illuminated by the moon. Before, you were just used to things being brightened up by fire. All you needed was to be able to see your work before, your captors kept most enjoyments or simple pleasures out of your life. It had just been another way they decided to make your life even worse.    "So, she can't see?" The blue tiefling asked, placing two bedrolls in the wagon, purple eyes moving to watch your form.    "Nein, it just means bright lights will hurt her eyes for a bit while they get used to such a bright environment."    "Oh good, because we don't need to worry about her being blind. That would totally suck." -*-    The party packed up the wagon and were moving toward their next destination, taking you like extra cargo. You sat almost exactly in the middle on the right side, keeping the sun from affecting your eyes. As you watched the forest and road pass behind you, a dull ache filled your eyes. How long had it been since you had last seen the sun? The thought filled your stomach with unpleasant feelings. So much of your life has been wasted because of those terrible people. It just wasn't fair, but there was nothing you could do about it now.    Fjord had decided he would drive the wagon with the help of Beau. Molly and Jester were in charge of guarding and watching out for anything suspicious. Nott was messing with a bunch of buttons while Caleb had his nose stuck in a book. Everything seemed normal between the group and your felt like a sore thumb. With every simple posture change or quiet sigh, at least three pairs of eyes followed you. How you wished your magic could just turn you invisible so all their eyes would just go away.    "So, like, you never gave us a name or anything. I'm Jester."    Your eyes trailed up, able to really get a good look at the group who decided to help you. The one speaking to you seemed to be young, at least at heart anyway. Her skin was a light blue with curious eyes that were a mix of purple, pink, and blue. Freckles littered her face like stars, something you rarely saw. Since freckles were caused by the sun, no one got them down below. Your skin tone must have looked sickly when compared to those around you now. Perhaps a glimpse of yourself would be too much at the moment. You felt disgusting and knew that you must look that way as well.    "Spark, uh, wait no," You shook your head, eyes narrowing in confusion, "that was what they called me. My name is....(Y/N)."    "(Y/N)..." Jester seemed to test the name in her mouth before continuing, "Well, welcome to the Mighty Nein, like N-E-I-N. That is a word that Caleb uses, the bookworm. Nott is the goblin over there but she is very nice. She is a package deal with Caleb, they go everywhere together. Fjord is the green guy, he is pretty chill. He pukes up water sometimes, like the kind from the sea. Beau is up there with him, she is grumpy but she means well most of the time. And then that leaves Molly, the other tiefling."    "Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service." The red eyes winked, the same ones that had charmed you last night. You wouldn't let it happen again.    You weren't shocked that Molly was the one that had charmed you last night. Everything about the man made you feel like he was twisting his words, with or without the use of his magic. A deep cut white shirt reached down his torso, slightly covered by his even more extravagant jacket. He was a carny, you didn't even need to ask about that. The drow liked to kidnap those from the carnival, no many to miss them. Were you part of the circus when you were younger? All you could remember before the dark was a pair of golden eyes shining down at your tiny form.    The lilac skin of Molly was covered in tattoos, though in the dark of the wagon and with some bits covered, it was impossible to tell what they were. Your eyes drifted up to study the man's face. Good features for a tiefling. Everything you had heard of them made them seem so much like devil creatures, with hideous faces and terrifying horns. Yet, there were two of them who both had pretty features. A smug grin rested on Molly's lips, just showing a hint of a white fang. When your eyes met his own, you quickly shifted your gaze. Has he noticed you studying him? Oh, Gods...    "So you were a slave. Did you smash rocks?" Nott squeaked out, her tone wavering. She held a flask in her tiny hand, obviously not caring about how early in the morning it was to be drinking.    "Nott..." Caleb's voice spoke up but he didn't even spare a glance from his book.    "No, I didn't do much manual labor. They often kept me inside one of the cages until they needed me. Most of my time was spent doing nothing and just sitting in the dirt."    "And what did they need you for, if you don't mind me asking?" Jester was watching you, her eyes filled with interest. Your own stared down at your dirty feet. You knew she meant no harm in asking but it was hard to think about the life you had just escaped.    When you thought back to your tasks, you just thought of pain. Never whips or arrows; though you had been hit by both but never during your tasks. No, the pain came from deep within when they used you. It was a terrible burning, only explainable by every molecule or piece of you being stretched like a rubber band. It never even caused external harm, everything was inside. Your soul, or something, was grabbed and pulled. You vowed to never have to feel that way again.    "I well, they used me more like a power source for their spells. It was like they reached deep within me and took pieces of me, my spiritual being, and then used it to power rituals. They would put me back in the cage to charge up again and heal inside before they would use me again. That happened for years, I stopped counting the years after it hit ten."    "Oh..."    A thick tension blanketed the entire wagon as you finished speaking. Your past was heavy and you had no clue how other people would react to hearing about it. What if someone wanted to use you in the same way? Would these people try to use you in some way as well? You would rather die than be put through that again. These people could take you to where they would use you and you wouldn't know. You had to put your trust in these people, even though it could end terribly. Your life was resting in their hands.    A fuzzy feeling brought you back into reality from your the panic attack that had been building in your mind. A cat, tabby in color, nudged your thigh with its head before it curled up so its body was pressed against you. Purrs reverberated and you could feel it again your leg. Without knowing, a small smile found its way to your face as you placed a hand on the war fur. The feeling and sounds were very grounding.    "That is Frumpkin, he is Caleb's familiar. He totally won't care if you're dirty or whatever. He chills with Caleb all the time so,"    "Jester," Molly gave a warning look to the girl.    "What?! She is dirty! She definitely knows it. No worries though, when we get to the tavern, we can totally have a girl's night to get her all clean and whatever."    Molly and Jester began to speak about what would happen when the party reached the next town. You couldn't remember the name of the town that they had said they were going to. Just as you began to tune out their voices, Caleb glanced up from his book. He offered you a kind look and a gentle shake of his head before he moved his focus back on his book again. This must be something that happened quite often. There was no anger or fear as they argued, which was a strange thing for you. Any hint of aggression was dealt with violence from where you were from. It was reassuring to hear a conversation like this that wouldn't end up with blood on the ground.    Outside, nature passed by with trees on both sides of the road. Birds chirped and sun their melodies. Even though it may be sore to watch the passing scenery, you couldn't help yourself. It had been so long since you had breathed fresh air or seen green trees. Below there had only been different rocks and mushrooms. There had been no real color other than monochromes and purple. Not even hints of greens and blues existed down below. It was amazing to see them again after so long. You hadn't been able to enjoy everything last night because of how scared you were. Perhaps it was the cat but those thoughts seemed so far away right now. All you could focus on was the beauty of the world all around outside.    What you didn't know was how a pair of red eyes seemed to be studying everything you were doing. There was such a wonder on your face. There was a beauty hidden under all the dirt and muck that covered your face. IT shone through the sparkles in your eyes and the slight incline of the edges of your lips. Molly became lost in thought as he watched your every movement, not even trying to hide his gaze from the rest of the party.    After an hour or so passed, a soft think against the side of the wagon brought everyone out of their dazes. You quickly looked around, eyes wide as everyone jumped into action. The wagon shook as both Fjord and Beau jumped down from the steering bench, reacting to the action.    "Attack! Guess we shouldn't have left you two keep watch, huh?!" Beau shouted, grunts and thuds already starting outside. As soon as the word attack left Beau's mouth, the rest of the party got to their feet. Nott jumped out, sliding under the cart to get a look at what was going on. Caleb and Hester followed suit, A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.    "Stay here, we have this under control."    The noises only louder and louder as time went by. Shouts of pain and grunts filled the air, making it hard to tell which side was winning. Fear began to fill your entire body as well as the sparkles from before. You couldn't just sit here and let them die. A shout of Caleb's name was your final push for your decision as you grabbed a light scarf to wrap around your eyes. Could you help them in one way or another/ Worst case scenario was that you would need to ditch the rest of the group. Your bare feet stung as they made contact with the dirt road. It was hard to see but you were able to make out basic objects and silhouettes. Blood stained the ground a rust color where Caleb had fallen to the ground,    A group of around twenty bandits had jumped out from the woods, hidden by the thick leaves. Your heart races as you took in everything; with Caleb down that meant there were four bandits to each person if that didn't include you. Fjord and Jester were both attacking with magic, Nott delivering sneak attacks, and Molly was skillfully using his curved swords. Each had only killed one person each that still meant that there were three each. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what you should do. If only your brain could work just as fast as your eyes which scanned the environment.    "Hey, one was hiding in the wagon!" A gruff voice shouted, his rough hand grasping your upper arm. Panic was beginning to set in now, it felt like fire sparks were exploding inside of you now. With how loud the fighting was, you doubted that anyone was able to hear what the man had said. Still, he began to drag your smaller frame forward. No matter how hard you struggled, he was still the stronger of you two. It looked like he was going to take you off the path and into the woods again. You couldn't let that happen.    "Let me go!" Your feet planted down in the dirt, heels digging in. First resort, distraction and wasting time. Ever since you were young, you knew you were weak. The easiest and most reliable way to get out of trouble was to get as much time as you could so you could wait for some type of help to arrive. Others would be able to do what you couldn't.    "Shut up bitch!" The trees were getting closer. Resort two was to flee. You may not be able to fight well but you were extremely fast and nimble. It was too late to try to flee, which meant that only left resort three.  It was your last resort and you only prayed that it would work. Resort three had only worked once or twice in the past when you had tried to do it. What else could you do though?    "Let me go!" Your voice boomed against the trees as you shouted, freehand sweeping over the area where the enemies were located. Everyone, including those on your side, turned to see what had happened, all in the same state of confusion. They were greeted by the sight of you with your hand outstretched, the scarf slowly floating down, no longer tied to keep out some of the sunlight. You had glowing golden eyes, which would have been a beautiful sight except for the rage and fear filled look on your face. Even your allies were scared of you at the moment. They couldn't figure out what was going on with you.    Before your enemies could react, the ground beneath them rumbled. Sharp shoots of tree trunks, limbs, and branches shot up through the ground, growing around and impaling all of the enemies. Screams filled the air as your fist clenched, causing the limbs to tighten in and against their victims. The trees themselves were beautiful with purple and white flowers decorating them, a hard contrast against the blood that now was dripping from the wounds. Then, as soon as the limbs were there, they vanished, leaving the bodies to topple to the ground with a heavy hep.    "What the fuck was that?!" Beau shouted all eyes turned to your trembling form.    Her voice was the last thing you heard before you tumbled to the ground as well, body returning back to normal. -*-    "Jester, you go and check on Caleb, I've got her!" Molly rushed over to your crumbled up form. As he checked your pulse, he was reassured that you had simply fainted. His arms cradled your body as he walked back to the wagon. Your head lolled to the side and fell against his chest, eyes shut. He was glad that you couldn't tell how scared he was from his heartbeat.    "How do we know we can trust her?" Nott spoke up, kneeling next to Jester and Caleb, who was slowly starting to stir once again.    "She saved us, didn't she?"    "Come on now, we got to give her a chance. We'll figure out what is going on when she wakes up and then we can decide what we should do," Fjord offered, as he always seemed to be the most level headed one.    Molly sat down in the wagon, cradling your head in his lap. His tail curled around to rest against the back on your hand, doing it more for him than yourself. This couldn't be the end for you, it simply wouldn't be fair. Straight from the drow and now this? It seemed like you had simply fainted due to over-exhaustion, or at least that was what he hoped.