#the marquis skullduggan

[theoakandthemistletoe]

The Marquis BSODing after being given a gentle, affectionate hug. Platonic or romantic, doesn't matter. They've known love, they love and are loved by their family, but they've never known tenderness.

[butleroftoast]

The Marquis has a real name now! It's "The Marquis". It's Gideon... or Gwydion. Maybe Gwynedd. They genuinely aren't sure which off the top of their head. Nobody has called them by it since their parents separated and they only see it once in a blue moon on official documents, of which House Skullduggan keeps very few.

They use it so rarely that when Morris finally admits defeat and enlists their help in freeing his travelling companions from the Firefly Queen's influence, and the Marquis introduces themself to her as "The Marquis Skullduggan", that counts as giving her their full name and they immediately fall under her influence as well. In retrospect Morris realises that this was an entirely predictable series of events.

Don't read anything into Gideon/Gwydion being gendered names. The Marquis has a cousin named Cherry. Skullduggans give their children names they like the sound of, and probably aren't even aware that other people might make assumptions as a result. Besides, there may be a reason the Marquis never uses it.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

As mentioned, Paladin Sabrinei did not find the Marquis Skullduggan to be as easy to win over as she expected. They seemed totally immune to her first few attempts, apparently taking "I'm sure the Marquis will be able to protect us from any danger ♡" as being fact rather than flirtation. Compliments didn't fare any better, too easily consumed by the Marquis's ego, and they seemed oblivious to even the most abrupt hints that she was interested in being more than adventuring companions.

For a while she was almost suspicious that they had caught on to her plan -- she was careful to avoid direct lies (old habits die hard, and part of her oath was a vow of honesty) and began to worry that perhaps they knew what she really meant by "I'd love to get closer to you" (viz. within stabbing distance). It didn't take long for her to dismiss that idea, however. Subtlety is not a Skullduggan strong point, and they dealt with potential threats far too directly for her to believe she was being toyed with.

Forced to accept that, no, they really were that oblivious, she moved on to schemes for catching them alone, getting up at pre-dawn so that the Marquis, who woke up before everyone else, could "accidentally" find her bathing and singing in the river. At one point she thought this was finally working.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you." "Yes, your grace? ♡ " "If you drink a glass of water, is that cannibalism?" "what" "Being a water genasi and everything." "...no."

This exchange is probably what prompted her to just come out and confess her (alleged) feelings.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Skullduggan's favourite tea (or rather, infusion) of the ones Morris has offered them is a handful of rose petals, particularly when steeped with raspberry leaf, a little citrus peel, and a few herbs for depth. They enjoy a complex taste, but the overriding scent of rose reminds them of their garden at home and long summer evenings laughing at something with their family.

They would not admit this upon pain of death and will never simply ask Morris for a rose infusion. What if he figured out there was some sentimental reason for the preference? That would be mortifying.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

@noamuth your spider headcanons gave me ideas and now there is a silly doodle of those ideas

'It's the only thing I've ever wanted in life!'

'You've never even met a Drow.'

[theoakandthemistletoe]

After the botched resurrection, the Marquis becomes wary of healers. They will let the group's cleric, Sophie, heal them, but not without some snide, mistrustful comments, and they get sulky if someone casts restoration spells on them without prior warning.

The only person they trust to cast True Resurrection, when they finally acquire the necessary components, is Morris. Morris is shocked and reluctant. He prefers to avoid responsibility wherever possible, isn't familiar with the spell, and is of the opinion that a trained cleric ought to be doing this sort of thing -- protests which fall on deaf ears. The Marquis insists that they no longer trust clerics and will only accept their tame druid taking on the challenge.

Morris only relents when he realises this isn't entirely true and that the actual reason -- one the Marquis would never admit -- is that they consider Morris a friend. They trust him to restore their body as it ought to be, to know them well enough to get it right. In this universe, True Resurrection works by restoring the subject as the spellcaster sees them, explaining the preservation of scars and similar; Morris is the only person the Marquis feels they can rely upon to do this (and also to restore certain private, personal elements of their body the way they want them).

It's a lot of pressure, but faced with that amount of faith from someone who rarely trusts anyone, Morris finds it impossible to refuse.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

The Future

There is no guarantee that Morris and the Skullduggans have a future, given their tendency to end up on An Adventure™ whether they like it or not, and even if they do there are many forms that future could take. But this is one of the ways the dice could fall.

Cherry is the only one of the core trio of Skullduggans to have children and continue the family line. The relationship is short-lived -- as many Skullduggan dalliances are -- but the children remain a part of the House (once a Skullduggan, always a Skullduggan). Cherry is killed before the youngest child is a year old.

The Marquis is next. With their reckless behaviour, it's only a matter of time before they push their luck too far, and in any case they would want it that way -- there are, infamously, only two ways for a Skullduggan to go, and they are determined to die in battle. They do, however, fit in a few years of semi-retirement first, when they focus more on politics than soldiering.

During this time, Morris moves on to the Skullduggan estate, at the Marquis's request (/demand). The Marquis orders a small cabin to be built at the top of the vineyards, their favourite spot, on the edge of the woods, far enough away from the house that no visiting lords and ladies will be offended by Morris's presence but close enough to visit of an evening, or perhaps even stay the night. Morris comes and goes as he pleases, quietly appreciating a safe haven to return to when his business is finished.

With the help of Timeless Body, Morris outlives all three Skullduggans by a considerable amount. Later generations grow up with him there and see it as natural to have a strange hermit squatting on the edge of the estate, accompanied by a large rat colony. Long after he's gone, it's still considered unlucky to kill those rats.

Robin becomes the rare exception in House Skullduggan, surviving into a relatively old age with her faculties intact. Although happy to be a feisty grandmother to Cherry's descendants, remaining full of fighting spirit even as her physical abilities fade, most people who know her feel a sense of bitterness, loss, and regret hovering behind her façade. Many assume this is due to the loss of her twin. Suggest that, however, and she retorts with a genuinely convincing denial -- death is an honour for the Skullduggans. Sola mors pacem. Morris has another theory closer to the truth, but he's not brave enough to confront Robin with his ideas.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Some time ago, when the current Marquis was still known as the Kid, House Skullduggan was not faring well. Relatively poor, lacking in power, and with no hooks on other Houses for the purpose of bribery or blackmail, the family held little sway over debates in the council chamber.

Their first chance to change this came in the form of an offer from the Duke of Ketzann: an arranged marriage, between the Kid and one of the Duke's own family. The Skullduggan would have to take the Duke's family name, obviously, and would not be eligible to inherit the dukedom, but in return he offered enough money and support to raise the family's influence.

House Skullduggan seriously considered the offer, and the majority of the family were in favour. One person in exchange for the restoration of their power? They'd lost far more in wars and gained far less in return. In the end, however, the voices of Ren, Sib, and Lamb overruled the others. Mostly Ren, in fact, who never much cared for the political side of the family business but rode to Ketzann themself while the others were arguing, announced themself as the Marquis and rejected the Duke's offer outright.

It proved to be the correct choice. Shortly afterwards, certain decisions made in Dwylionn tanked Ketzann's economy, an opportunity House Skullduggan leapt on. Over the next few years, through a series of deals brokered by Sib and successful battles led by Ren, they clawed their way back into prominence on the council. Power shifted within the family itself, too, as the voices who had called for the arranged marriage were eclipsed by the trio who opposed it, establishing the current branch of Skullduggans as the face of the family.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Morris does not do nicknames. Skullduggans exclusively use nicknames. Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

The Marquis tries calling him "Moss" once or twice, which goes about as well as expected and cannot be forced to stick. Much later, when they are begrudging friends (/platonic life partners), the Marquis becomes the only person other than his mother who gets away with calling him by his first name, Pol. This is mostly because Morris realises that telling them to stop only encourages them.

Once a Skullduggan successfully bestows a nickname upon someone, they use it for life. It doesn't matter if, for example, it's an affectionate pet name for a partner who turns out (let's say, hypothetically) to have been planning their murder all along -- they will continue to call that person "darling", only now the word is cruel, cold, icy with with irony.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Those long evenings atop the hill, the civilised, wealthy estate before and below them, the wild forest behind them, lounging on a fallen log on the grass in-between.

'What was being dead like?'

Like letting go. Aware of all and caring for nothing. Not wanting, not hurting, not hiding. A vast and beautiful emptiness touched only by distance, where invisible sand swept in waves around invisible fingers. Finally knowing peace.

'Kind of boring.'

'And being brought back?'

I don't want to go. Don't bring me home.

'Who cares?'

'Me.'

'Fine, it felt a bit weird. Maybe that's just because you were bad at it.'

'There must have been more.'

Familiar energy, too much of it, so much no person could ever expend it all, coiled up and racing through every fibre, every nerve. Peace burned away in a riot of magic. The great unrest returned, unwanted, to sender.

'Why? I was dead, yeah? You've got other stuff on your mind when you're dead. I wasn't thinking about how I was going to describe it all later. I wasn't thinking about anything.'

'Right.' A pause, for pipe smoke in the air. 'What was being a skeleton like?'

'Morris. You can turn into a giant octopus. You can imagine what being a normal human skeleton is like.'

[theoakandthemistletoe]

After the botched revive, requiring a casting of True Resurrection to fix, Skullduggan's first plan is to use their political influence to force the Temple to pay for either a scroll or the 25,000gp of diamonds consumed when casting the spell, as well as provide a skilled cleric who can control it. This, it seems to them, is a fair reparation after one of the Temple's own paladins committed their murder. It's only when the rest of the group points out that the privy council might have some reservations about accepting an animate skeleton as the Marquis that they reconsider.

Fortunately, they quickly come up with a backup plan: Temple heist. It's the morally correct choice. Obviously.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Defeat in Victory

Life in Scrantz took place in the evenings and at night. The heat chased all but the most foolhardy person indoors after noon, and indulgence in the local wines left many people unwilling, if not unable, to stir from bed before that time.

With home almost in sight and no wine left in their pack, the Marquis Skullduggan, returned from a long battle and an equally gruelling debate with the Privy Council, rose from their private room at a roadside inn shortly before dawn and ordered their horse saddled. They travelled alone. The servants had been sent ahead to warn the family, and any brigands who wanted to ambush an adventurer bearing the Skullduggan colours were free to try. It would be a welcome distraction.

The road was quiet, already still and warm as the sun rose. News of the victory in the north must have spread by now, with the Twins, not bound by any political duties, back at least fortnight earlier, as soon as the fighting concluded. A few of the buildings the Marquis passed fluttered with bunting hastily crafted out of paper. Had the owners been awake, it might have surprised them to see the valiant soldier they were celebrating curl up their lip and spur their horse on faster.

Orange grass – so dry and brittle after months in the north – crunched under the horse's hooves. Soon it dried away to nothing on the edge of the vineyards. A dog barked from the next hill over. A rooster crowed.

Roosters. The crest of House Tooke. Cast in gold, on every buckle, every ring, every chain, enough gold to build a city, and yet not enough, never enough. How to assail that? How could House Skullduggan offer enough gold to sway House Tooke? The family who lived in this inhospitable desert hinterland, trying to bribe the family who ate off golden dinnerplates. Ridiculous.

Something hot and unfamiliar burned around the Marquis's ribs, chest, heart, something more than the building heat of the day. Push it away. Focus on home. Nearly there now. At the top of the hill they were climbing, the highest point in the foothills, sat a dilapidated lookout post, hidden by pines, where the Twins used to ride as teenagers. The Marquis had no idea what they did up there and didn't want to know. Once a strategic military position, the House armies had pushed so far south that it only overlooked the town these days, remaining as a testament to one of the greatest Skullduggan legacies: conquering the south, taming the desert, establishing Scrantz.

They could have done it again, in the north this time. But not now.

The heat returned. To quash it, the Marquis plucked a grape from the vine as they passed, dropped it into their mouth, frowned, and spat it onto the dust. Too sour, too hard. Too early. Should have waited.

Waiting, always waiting, for the right moment, for more supplies, for a chance which never came. We must wait, said the Duchess of Rodyn, as clearly as if she had been riding up the dirt track alongside the Marquis. We must wait, we must hold off, we must be reasonable.

Abruptly, as breath clogged their throat, the Marquis tugged their horse off the path, onto a plateau beneath the manor. There were views encompassing the full estate here. The vineyards, the rose garden, the lookout above, the edge of the pine forest, the barn. Love settled over their body, not enough to suffocate the new emotions burning through it like an infection, but enough to give them air. Their land, their home.

Once they had ridden to this point with Ren, after some campaign or other. One of their first, barely old enough to wear armour or lift a sword, the Kid kitted out for the first time. As they surveyed their world, Ren had asked, what do you want most in life? And they had replied,

'To be a better soldier than you.'

And Ren had said,

'Is that all? Come on, Kid.'

'To be the best, then.'

'That's more like it.'

The view became dull. The colours dimmed. The heat roared. The Marquis rode on.

Servants waited at the gate, as instructed, ready to help them dismount, before one contingent led the horse to the stables and the remainder followed the Marquis inside. They didn't expect to see any of the family this early, but no sooner had the servants removed their riding coat than the Twins appeared from the lounge. Cherry's arm was in a sling and Robin still had the healer's paste smeared across her neck, which didn't stop either of them from barrelling into the Marquis. It wasn't so much a hug as it was a collision.

'Cuz!'

'How did it go?'

'When are we going back to Enkannil?'

'Will the Duke of Dwylionn be there?'

'I hope not. I'll kill him myself if he tries to take credit for this.'

The Marquis straightened their back, gestured for a glass of wine, and repeated the Marquis of Tirynn's words.

'We're not going back to Enkannil.'

'What?'

'We won. Enkannil was ours.'

'Our armies are there, in their capital, right now.'

'What happened?'

'What the hells did you do?'

A servant, who had probably been waiting behind the door for the signal, hurried forwards with a glass and pitcher. The Marquis took it and, without drinking, said,

'The Marquis of Tirynn secured a favourable peace treaty. The Duke of Dwylionn said they wouldn't fund a final push. And the Duchess of Rodyn insisted we show mercy. We were outvoted.'

'But...'

'But we were so close,' whispered one of the twins. The Marquis couldn't tell which as something clouded their vision, so they left the twins in silence.

Their tired, aching feet carried them instinctively to their room, in the upper corridors of the manor. This was their reward, then. Their old room, full of familiar furniture, unchanged since they set out for battle. They were back where they started.

The House would fight about it later. The wrath of the Skullduggans, usually directed outwards, would turn on them for their failure. The Marquis sipped from the glass and set it aside, quite calmly, on the dresser top. Well, let it. The rest of the House would soon lose interest, when they found their target a ready and willing victim. None of them wanted the job of Marquis anyway. None of them wanted to make those decisions.

To lose on the brink of triumph. To hold victory in their hands and slowly, deliberately, bureaucratically sign it away. To end Ren's war, Ren's final legacy, to fulfill Ren's promise to the Skullduggans, and fail to come home with the prize--

All their siblings. All their House. Ren. Blood shed and lives lost. They were supposed to be marching triumphantly into history as they expanded the kingdom yet again, but instead they faced this. A peace treaty. Ending where they began, except for the so, so many dead.

The heat inside them boiled over. Emotions they had never known before shoved forward and gave themselves names. Regret, disappointment, shame, and then, lurking at the bottom, in their core, where it had sunk down to fester many years ago, rotting everything it touched, grief.

Wine soaked the wallpaper as the glass smashed against it. It didn't help. The Marquis sat down in the square of dawn light on the bed and stared at the wall, until the sun passed through and left them in the dark.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

The Royal Court doesn't keep a record of which Skullduggan was acting as the Marquis during which particular session, since as far as they are concerned it should always be the same person. Nor does House Skullduggan. This, predictably, leads to a lot of arguments, blame-slinging and denial when a decision works out poorly for them.

Even so, each Skullduggan has their own style and tendencies in the debating chamber which can help identify them. Gideon pushes for major decisions which upset the kingdom's neighbours, start wars, and cause riotous chaos amongst the populace. Robin is a driving force behind outlandish and absurd ideas, the more dangerous the better, but is less interested in sowing the seeds of public disorder. Cherry, who is the least enthusiastic about the position, frequently abstains from the vote entirely when forced to attend, which successfully annoys everyone else at the table, and so the Skullduggan reputation for being a contrary nuisance is preserved.

[theoakandthemistletoe]

"Hey, Pol, you want a cracker?"

[butleroftoast]

A few medical headcanons.

The only known way to contain the Twins and their mayhem is to put them on a boat, as they both suffer from seasickness. They discovered this on an overseas deployment and are extremely annoyed about it. Robin feels it more intensely than Cherry, try as she might to push through it. [They must roll a con save upon boarding a water-going vessel. The DC varies according to roughness of water and weather conditions.]

All Skullduggans are surprisingly short on battle scars and war wounds. As nobles, they typically have access to a healer, and if they aren't able to reach one in time they're probably going to keep fighting to the death. With that said, the Marquis has two notable marks. Firstly, their nose was clearly broken at some point in the past -- it happened during a common brawl, when military healers weren't on hand, and by the time they realised they probably ought to get it looked at, the common healer's magic could only remove the pain.

The second is a scar on the little finger of their right hand. They like to tell people it was from an enemy's sword, or an assassin's dagger, or various other stories, but once again the truth is rather more mundane. They dropped a glass and, in an attempt to catch it, ended up slicing across the middle of the finger with the edge of a shard, nearly severing it. They no longer have much feeling in that finger. It doesn't bother them, they can still hold a sword, and it's been that way long enough that their brain has learned to compensate, so they no longer notice it in most situations. [They roll certain sleight-of-hand checks with disadvantage.]

My headcanon is that the chance of a scar after healing magic depends on time since the wound was inflicted and the skill of the healer. Injured on one turn, cleric casts Cure Wounds during the same round: no scar. Out of spell slots and have to wait until after a rest/no healer on hand during or after the fight: scar. There's also more chance of a scar if the healer is inexperienced or distracted (for example, in the middle of a hectic, busy battle). Basically, rule of cool.

[butleroftoast]

One especially ill-fated romantic entanglement of Skullduggan's:

They're involved with a lady they actually seem rather keen on and, for once, everything is going well. Morris doesn't trust her, she seems suspicious to him, but neither Skullduggan nor anyone else cares what Morris thinks. Cherry is also uncertain, but Robin thinks they're being silly. This lady is a paladin, so ultimately she must be good, right?

Right. That turns out to be the problem. Skullduggan is, of course, chaotic neutral when on their very best behaviour. Not a natural fit for a lawful good paladin, but when they meet her she is oathbroken, which they assume explains how she is able to tolerate the Marquis.

One night the lady gets Skullduggan away from camp on some pretext -- and shoots them in the neck with a crossbow bolt, pinning them to a tree. As they cough up blood and slowly, agonisingly choke to death, she does the natural antagonist thing of conveniently explaining her motivations, the short version of which is that Skullduggan's wanton, reckless, "this idea is objectively stupid but it sounds fun so I vote aye" attitude in court had devastating consequences for her, and was possibly related to why she felt forced to break her oath. Killing Skullduggan is an objectively Good Deed for her god, and as Skullduggan dies, the paladin's god speaks to her and lets her know that her oath can now be renewed (for the low, low price of 1,000 gold at your local deity's temple).

Luring them away from camp meant the cleric wasn't there to help Skullduggan immediately. Fortunately, one of Morris's rats smells the blood, recognises the rest of the scent as someone Morris knows, and goes to check with Morris whether it's okay to eat them now that they're dead. Morris wakes up the cleric and they follow the rats to Skullduggan's corpse, now grey and lifeless, smeared with old blood across the chin and neck, still hanging by the bolt from the tree.

It's borderline whether revivify will work, because they don't have the capability for True Resurrection, it's been more than a minute or two since the death occurred, and the cleric is still unsure of her newest abilities. She manages to bring Skullduggan back, but there's a snag: their first words upon returning to life are "what the fuck have you done?", as they realise that they are now permanently in their skeleton form.

They later discover that using their helmet now makes them look like their human self. As before, however, the change in appearance is a temporary illusion, breaking as soon as anyone touches them.

Reverting the change takes a while as the group has to track down both someone who can cast True Resurrection and the funds to pay for this service. Even House Skullduggan won't pay out to fix the problem: a Skullduggan who gets themselves killed deserves everything they get.