#the other gnomes all have dark enough skin they get contrast working for them in the other direction

[blujayonthewing]

my idea of self indulgent character design is giving an OC red hair and long/ actually visible at all eyelashes

[crymeariveronceagain]

Stina Heks headcanons?

oh, my dearest anon, so many

so, so, so many.

hehe

Stina is tall. She's tall. She's not super tall, but she's not medium. She's a candy bar you're sure is a king size, but is packaged as a "share size" so you're not really sure what's going on.

This girl has a tan undertone to her skin. Like, there's a definite warmth and tan there. I'm thinking she's got some Romani heritage, that got mushed around with her French Heritage a long, long, long time ago. Oh, yeah. For absolutely no reason, Stina's mother's side of the family is French. Like, they absorbed French language into the way they talk, they serve various French foods, they practice some French traditions. I don't know why this is, but it is. So. That's my Stina's Family Heritage headcanon.

Her favorite color is burgundy. Like, deep, dark, wine red. It matches her skin tone and hair tone and brings out her eyes. She loves it. She's got far too many dresses in that color.

She... doesn't think she's pretty. And not in like, a self-depricating, quirky girl, "oh, no, I'm not pretty, I wish I was pretty, and no boy will ever like me ;-;" kind of way. She thinks she's not pretty like she thinks her hair is brown. It's just a natural assessment of her features. Maybe she just hasn't met anyone who sees more than her appearences, yet, but when she looks in the mirror she sees flaws. Sharp lines, too many ovals, too much contrast, her eyes are too close together. Especially in a world of extremely beautiful elves, she looks at others, and then looks back to herself and thinks "Well. That's not how I look. Whatever."

Stina has never wanted to get married. Not ever. She doesn't see the appeal. She doesn't want to see the appeal. But, also, she hasn't ever wanted to be on the council. She's always wanted to live alone in her house and run down the hallways in her long skirts.

She's not liked, in school. She got painted in bully colors for a few years, and she's never been able to erase the pigments. It's stained her body, and she can't ever get it off. She's internalized the fact that she is mean, she is cruel, she is a pain to be around and a pain to be with. She's fine, she says, but she mostly keeps to herself.

Stina has a group of friends outside of our lovely Kotlc Roundup of Trauma Children, and she likes them more. Not that she should. She thinks good attributes in friends are things like "leaving her alone" and "brutal honesty" which is really just them not putting effort into the friendships and ragging on her a ton.

She used to be friends with Biana Vacker. Like, really good friends. And then Sophie showed up, wrenches got thrown in the works, and Biana stopped talking to her. She still, quietly, somewhere, holds onto some memories of when they were friends. She doesn't dwell on them often, but if she does, then you know it's been a rough day.

The person she likes the most currently out of all the people in the Trauma Children group is most definitely Tam. He's smart on his feet, calm in scary situations, and he's responsible. And, oddly enough, he doesn't seem to mind her prescence. She finds that very odd of him, and also rather respectable.

Stina is a very skilled empath. She's really strong, with her powers, and can sometimes read people without touching them. It's kinda impressive, and Keefe wondered, to her face, once, if she'd ever accidentally drank Sophie's blood. Stina had punched him in the arm so hard he'd stopped laughing to wince.

MISS GIRL IS A HORSE GIRL. SHE HAS BOOKS UPON BOOKS UPON BOOKS. SOME OF THEM ARE IN DIFFERENT LANGUAGES. SOME OF THEM ARE BY HUMAN AUTHORS. SOME OF THEM ARE BY GOBLINS. OTHERS ARE BY GNOMES. However, that's all that's left, in her Level 8 girl bedroom. Her posters have long been taken down, and there's a painting of a horse in the closet. She's got a pair of horse riding boots, and she can do tricks. She's absolutely fantastic.

Slytherin. So Slytherin she makes Draco Malfoy look like an absolute muffinhead. She makes Lord Voldemort look kindhearted. She can make Bellatrix Lestrange look sane. She can make Salazar himself seem unambitious. She is snakes and silence and the quiet drip of water from a faucet onto a marble floor.

She doesn't really listen to much music. And Certainly Not Human Music. But if she did, she'd 100% be a billie eilish stan. Like, yeah. She'd listen to "When We All Fall Asleep Where Do We Go" on repeat. She'd listen to COPYCAT late into the night. Yeah.

She processes things by being angry. So angry. All the time. She's so angry. The angrier she is, the less she can feel the badness. If all that's left is blistering anger, there's nothing she can feel besides it.

Half of her motives are spite. She does things out of spite just because she likes the look on your face.

All in all, Stina's a mess, but she's so well put together that no one would notice. She is everything you want to be, on the outside, but nothing on the inside is anything you'd ever want to touch. She's internally tangled in knots. But she looks like a cleanly wrapped ball of yarn. And that's all that everyone, including her parents and friends, see.

Anyway! Hope you enjoyed!

[honourablejester]

Ideas for Sorcerers (D&D)

I do love a bit of innate, chaotic magic, the forces of the world writing themselves onto people. Whether said people wanted them to or not. Heh. I will admit I’m a bit more attached to the ‘touched by cosmic forces’ angle for the sorcerer, it’s really great for backstories, but the bloodlines are also fascinating for the ‘family lore’ and ‘really adventurous ancestors’ ideas. So!

I’m mostly focused on the classic sorcerers and then the horror-adjacent sorcerers, because I’m me, and we know what I like. Apologies to fans of the Divine, Storm or new Clockwork sorcerers!

Draconic

Because dragons (and dragon ancestors) are the best. There’s a lot of fun and aesthetic with choosing your dragon ancestor too. The little scales you get with draconic resilience just make for some really cool-looking characters.

I love the idea of mixing ancestries with a draconic sorcerer. Compare and contrast. For example, a tiefling draconic sorcerer with gold dragon ancestry! Combining a ‘tainted’ bloodline with a respected one. Maybe the clan lean heavily into the lawful reputation of gold dragons, as well as a sort of internalised racism against their own darker ancestry as well. They view the fact that they were once favoured by a divine dragon as proof that their bloodline can redeem themselves of their demonic pact/ancestry, and they lean towards lawful occupations, city watch, soldiers, clergy, etc. So your sorcerer has a bit of internal conflict going on. (Also, a red tiefling with gold scales is an awesome look – tiefling skin colours with dragon scale colours is a really fun combination)

Other cool-sounding ancestry combinations: high elf & white/silver ancestry, for that ethereal immortal feeling (also fun to add stereotypical dragon traits with the white dragons, in that you’re an ethereal immortal who really holds a grudge and does not do ‘forgive and forget’), half-elf & green ancestry, for a strongly outcast, political bent, halfling/gnome & copper ancestry, because if you’re going to go for a tiny trickster you might as well go all out …

Or we have my old favourite, a tortle sorcerer with (somehow) a dragon turtle ancestor, because great-grandpa Uhok never met an older and (significantly) larger lady he didn’t want to pursue, and great-grandma Korthalok was honestly rather flattered. (Yes, I am aware that dragon turtles are not high dragons, but they are intelligent, and they’re probably innately magical/elemental enough to put a bit of magic in the bloodline)

Shadow Magic

The sorcerer’s gothic option! I do love it. Your magic comes from a strange, grim shadow realm, either because you were touched by said realm, or one of your ancestors was an entity from said realm. You get a demonic shadow hound, teleportation from shadow to shadow, and later an actual shadow form. Lots to work with there.

I feel like there’s a lot of Lovecraftian, Dreamlands, William Hope Hodgson sort of feeling here. The dark touch of a strange realm. Emphasis on isolation, desolation, alienation. Loneliness. This is also the subclass where I really, really like a later-life coming into your powers, a traumatic event causing a normal person to suddenly develop horrifying magic.

So. Any of your gothic/cosmic horror backstories. You were kidnapped and subjected to a horrific ritual. You were created in a horrific ritual (hi Warforged!). You suffered a severe, inexplicable illness as a child, and remained pale, half-dead, and possessed of strange powers for the rest of your life (I love the shadow sorcerer quirks list). An insane ancestor entered the Negative Plane and your line was almost annihilated by the resulting Nightwalker, but you somehow survived. Your parent was an extremely powerful magic user studying the Shadowfell, and you only realised much later on in your life that your childhood ‘imaginary friends’ were actually Sorrowsworn (Lost and Lonely?) that haunted your ancestral home and that your parent was somehow keeping from killing you. You tried to steal from a powerful, vindictive wizard, who flung you into the Shadowfell for your temerity, and you don’t fully remember how you survived. You slept in a barrow as a dare when you were younger, and an allip whispered secrets to you that lead you to dream of a dark realm, dreams that seemed to gradually change you as you ‘recovered’ …

This entire subclass is just very much ‘go nuts on the horror tropes and have fun’. I love it dearly.

Aberrant Mind

A new one from Tasha’s, but the other Lovecraftian/horror themed sorcerer subclass now. Which is perfectly fine, because I can always roll with more Lovecraftian horror! If shadow magic was themed strongly towards undead, Aberrant Mind seems strongly themed towards aberrations. Body horror and psychic powers! Boo yeah!

I do like the suggested origins. Particularly the parasitic twin and the imaginary friend ones. I think there’s a lot of fun to be had with those. Aberrant mind does feel more … on the science fiction end of horror, more than the fantasy? There’s a different flavour compared to shadow magic. We’re talking alien abduction and Carrie-esque childhood trauma here. Particularly when you get to the higher level actual physical transformation elements. Bit of Akira in there, bit of Innsmouth. So.

I’m liking characters who are a bit ‘aberrant’ on their own merits, even before their powers kick in as well. The outcasts from the get-go. The albino half-orc abandoned by the tribe as a child and befriended/kept safe by their possibly-imaginary flumph friend. The fallen aasimar whose blessings allowed them to survive where their stillborn twin did not, but who still feels the touch of a ghostly hand in theirs (I’m not sure how well it fully gels, but I feel like an Atropal is a very interesting concept to lay alongside this – stillborn gods and blessed, aberrant champions – celestial guides and the whisperings of parasitic twins … not sure how well it fits, but there’s a lot of crunchy concepts there)

Also, there’s your chance to have some fun with the Underdark races. Duergar, Deep Gnomes and Drow. Or sea races, when we have fun with Aboleths. Or non-sea races who still had a bit of fun with Aboleths, if we want to fully embrace the Innsmouth vibes and have normal land-based elves/humans/halflings who come over all Deep-One in the end. You come from a quaint little village on the coast, where the coming-of-age ceremony involved something of an opening of the mind. Nothing to worry about, everyone does it where you come from. Yes indeed! Heh.

And then, to bring us back to the less-horrifying end of sorcerers, and to revisit my childhood in a big way, we have:

Wild Magic

Schmendrick the Magician! Sorry, I grew up on The Last Unicorn, you’ll have to forgive me this. (Is Schmendrick actually part of the inspiration here, I’m wondering?)

But honestly, wild magic really lends itself to down-on-their-luck characters, running ahead of their own chaos, or striving to learn to control their powers. Or, on the flipside, incredibly laissez-faire types who decided to just roll with and eventually enjoy or perpetuate a little chaos. So. Tricksters, shysters and earnest young things trying to do their best.

So. You could do a straight Schmendrick. A down-on-their-luck kid who really, really wants to be a real wizard, a great magician, but their magic just will not cooperate. It has a mind of its own, and their struggle is learning to either minimise or lean into the chaos and power of it. (I like a background as a tailor/seamstress for this, partly because of animated Schmendrick’s memorable patchwork robes, but also as a little practical detail in that, if you can’t trust your magical mending not to do a ‘Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ on it every damn time, you probably would learn to darn your socks the old fashioned way)

For a variation, you could do a bit of a snake-oil salesperson sort of deal. A down-on-their-luck sorcerer turned shyster/criminal to make ends meet. Wild magic works very well as a sort of bloodline curse, bad luck and chaos following a family. A woman of the Witchbottle clan pissed off an archfey way back when, and so every girl born to the line since has struggled with wild magic. So the clan tends to move around a lot, both individually and as a whole, and individual members of it tend to work around their inevitable getting run out of town for magical mishaps in their own ways. The clan has a lot of travelling entertainers, salespeople, criminals, etc, and tend to be very loyal to each other, even if they don’t see each other all that often (concentrations of wild magic in a single area tend to be bad for said area, so family gatherings are discouraged near civilisation).

And then there are your straight trickster characters. Ones with a more philosophical approach to chaos, a belief that you should be able to deal with the unexpected, and that maybe other people should be helped along in experiencing and dealing with it too. I like bards for tricksters, but wild magic sorcerers work very well too. Heh.

I know Wild Magic might not be the most functional of the subclasses, but it’s got a direct line to my childhood, and I feel like it’s still a really fun idea.

In summary? I like the squishy spindly magic people. They’re fun.

[tea-cake-and-melancholy]

Skull and Shackles-part one

Hello everyone! Stuck here in quarantine after finishing college (graduation, woot!) and decided to practice my heavily rusting fictional writing skills. Skull and Shackles is an Adventure Path from Pathfinder Roleplaying Game® owned by Paizo. The only thing I own is the original characters. Any writing advice would be welcomed. Hope you enjoy.

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This adventure does not start with the busy chatter of a tavern, no heroic call to arms against some great evil, not even with being arrested by a government that didn’t appreciate this group for sticking their noses where they don’t belong. This adventure starts with a dark room. The sensation of swaying and an incredible headache that may have either been accompanied by the taste that numbs the tongue or a whack. Impressment wasn’t just restricted to the Cheliax Navy, it extended to pirates as well. It’s been known that Press Gangs are known to skulk about inns, taverns, the streets at night and even pluck unsuspecting men and women from their very beds after a short chat concerning their sailing ability. That was the situation for this group of adventurers. 

The first to awaken was a catfolk thief named Gumqu, a lanky feline looking humanoid creature with the head, paws, and tail of a cat. With grey peach fuzz and mismatched blue and gold eyes, she looked about to try and remember how she had gotten there. Ah, yes. She had just returned from her latest voyage on the “Old Renegade”, a ship that she had served for 5 years working on the rigging. Coming across a rather fat merchant ship, she decided rather foolishly to spend her earnings alone at the Formidably Maid a rather popular pirate tavern. Gumqu absent-mindedly rasped her tongue against her sleeve to take away the numbing and bitter taste off her tongue, feeling rather embarrassed to having fallen for such an old press-gang tactic. At least she can feel the outline of her thieves’ tools in her hidden pocket. Another from the pile stirred with a curse and a spit, human looking and irate to boot.

Anne Salis angrily looked about with dark eyes, cursing her luck and possibly fate for not being careful. Her husband always did warn her against drinking at the Formidably Maid with all those wayward pirates. Being the resident shaman for the Besmara, there was a priest though he took a 12-year fishing trip and had not returned yet, it wasn’t uncommon to getting free drinks from old salts who appreciated fair weather charms. She shook her headful of honey curls and clutched her unprotected scalp when the throbbing headache was aggravated by her swift movements. They took her hat but not her dagger in her belt, typical. She gnashed her sharp teeth and tried to stand but was prevented by the moving room and tangled bodied. Nevertheless, with that she inadvertently kicked a rather large half-orc in the ribs, shocking him to consciousness.

Ausk Oddfellow never failed to live up to his name. A shocking giant that can easily take up the length of the room. He slowly sat up while rubbing his now smarting side, looking like a picture out of those risqué nobles’ romance novels. Tall and muscular with a tiny waist, the symbol of Cayden Cailean (a flagon) hung around his neck and slightly messy black hair caused by the welt in the back of the head. He was tavern hopping, singing about various pirates and legends with his bestest best mate in all the world, Skender, who always works in his dark little alchemy shop. So, as any best friend would do, he dragged with away for a good time and maybe show him the meaning of fun. Well, on the way from Suffering Tiger Pub, The Boot and Helm, The Forest and Shield, Hovering Drake and The Clam and Whale Tavern, and the Formidably Maid, there was a scuffle in a dark alley between 2 blokes and a lady. Being the dashing bard that he is, of course he rushed to the rescue. Right before being knocked on the back of the head. Hard. He quickly looked around in panic! Where’s Skender?! As he is reaching over, his hulking green mass squished the figure next to him, causing an indignant shout.

Now Mordren Paella was typical for a pit-born tiefling; some had one or two minor imperfections that can be easily hidden or explained away, some are more…drastic. The only normal features she possessed was her height, black hair usually tied back and olive skin. Unfortunately, her abnormalities were drastic enough to detract from those features. From golden cat eyes, exposed fang-like teeth that frame her entire jaw, a left arm that resembled a blue dragon’s claw, bird’s legs to the barbed snake’s tail. Many had expressed that she was most likely the product of a god after a very heavy night of drinking. She was a witch that worked on various pirate ships as a cook. Never had a bad reference and no complaints with her small book of recipes that she can feel she still had on her person. She had left her hometown of Ilizmagorti, due to the heightened Red Mantis activity, to Port Peril. To celebrate, she went for a small meal and drink for the smooth trip. Seeing some sketchy characters at the corner of the tavern she and decided to leave, until the world started spinning and the floor was incoming fast. Nearby her was a rather angry “Must you be such a bumbling bugbear? Move over, you green lummox” a thwack barely missing her head and swatting the half-orc’s back.

The person in question was Skender Korzha; a half elf with mocha skin and high contrasting white tattoos on his arms that appeared arcane in origin. His black hair was halfway taken out of his ponytail and he feels a crick in his lower back after hours in an odd position. He knew that he should not have gone out with Ausk. Nothing ever goes well when he goes out with him. Granted, he is a flamboyant, needlessly boisterous, optimistic glass ¾’s full kind of bard but really he’s not a bad friend. However, based on the pounding headache and possible concussion, he’s gotten them into trouble again. He needed that brain, damn it. He checks himself to find what he had left, only to find a health kit. Wonderful. Trying to pull himself to sit up, he felt his sleeping leg being weighed down by someone who may just have beaten his friend in height.

The last in this room was a peculiar species of troll called the Va’al, hailing from the islands closer to Freeport. Though not nearly as muscular as Ausk, Hau'ri’s musculature was overshadowed by the sheer height. This was hidden by him being currently curled on the floor of this room. He slowly sits up and rubs his sore jaw, luckily his tusks were still intact for they were a pain to regrow, almost as bad as a leg or the inconvenience of a missing finger when you only have a max of 3 to start with. The only hair was the short light blue fur covering him from head to toe, bat like ears ringing from the beating he received just the other…time? Honestly, he doesn’t know what time it, not that it matters. His amber eyes scanning the room, satisfied that there’s more than him in this situation. He clenches his fist and quickly hides the brass knuckles that he always kept on him, chuckling at his luck.

 It was at that time; a series of heavy footsteps came from above to then slam the door open violently. Bright light pouring from the handheld lantern blinds everyone inside, causing some to curse and some to hiss in discomfort.

             ““Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!” roared the stranger. He stands tall in typical pirate garb, this human male had probably has seen salt water more often than clear water used for more than cooking or drinking. Skin cracked from long days in the sun and gold teeth gleaming in a cruel smile as he used his whip to motivate everyone onto their feet. This took a bit of time before the group proceeded to follow him up the stairs of the ship.

 As they were walking, Anne spat on the ground to her right, finally deciphering the taste in her mouth as taggit oil. A favorite of press gangs if they think they can get away with it. Put it in spicy food or particularly strong grog and you have between 1 to 3 hours with a dead to the world body. Cheap, easy to obtain and hard to overcome when ingested. Both Hau’ri and Ausk must bend down to clear their heads from hitting the beams above.

Once they’ve reached the top they were once again blinded, this time by the tropical sun hanging high in the sky. Looking about, they find themselves surrounded, 10 pirates not including the one that guided them there and ocean as far as the eye can see. Some were up in the rigging while others were scattered about on deck, all stopped to gawk at the new arrivals. Skender looks at the ship and can tell that it’s a three-masted sailing ship, 100 feet long from stem to stern, and 30 feet wide amidships. Decent but just one person short of manning it effectively without hardship. At the ship’s mainmast, on a high platform than the confused party in question, there stood two individuals. One was a broad, muscular human man with Garundi descent; a shaven head, long beard bound with braids and gold rings, and an eye patch. Based on his standing and finery, this was the captain in charge. The other to his right was a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.

The group was corralled towards the middle with 4 other recruits, a red headed human woman with a lovely tricornered hat, a muscular halfling brunette that could possibly bench-press Ausk, a human male with a blue varisian scarf wrapped around his head to protect his scalp and a rather fabulous male gnome bedecked in dandy purple attire. While the group was placed in a row, the captain smirked and finally addressed them.

           “Glad you could join us at last!” his rasping voice bellowed over the crashing waves “Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine.” He made his way to walk away, paused and spoke over his shoulder, “Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg!” addressing the man with the ponytail “If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.” Before walking away from sight. The new overseer, Mr. Plugg, descends to the Amidships where they stood.

           “Now” he unhooked the cat-o’-nine-tails from his belt as he surveys the crew-to-be. “Time to see where you lot belong.”

Next

[stephrawlingwrites]

Monster Mash-Up

Co-authored by myself and @effects-of-growing-up in the spirit of Halloween. The original plan would have included more editing, but due to scheduling conflicts, here is the finished piece!

Amy finished her process of getting ready with a third shot, shaking off the bitter taste. Her witches cloak shook with her, the soft dark fabrics still a bit cold from being left in the car. “Okay. I’m ready,” she said with a proud smile, placing her hands on her hips.

Liz looked up from her phone, eyebrow raised. “You sure?” She pointed to Amy’s head.

Amy quickly went to the mirror to see her ebony black wig slipping off to reveal her natural brown locks. She quickly adjusted it, smoothing out the curls so they sat better. She had to admit, she looked dang good tonight. Now if she could just forget about him she might actually enjoy herself.

Liz’s face joined Amy’s in the mirror, her colorfully painted skin a dramatic contrast next to Amy’s darkness. “Stop thinking about him. He doesn’t matter. We are going out, we are having fun, and you are going to be okay.”

“How did you know what I was thinking about?” Amy countered, defensive.

Liz gave her “the look.” It was a nice mixture of mom look meets the best friend “really?” rolled into one. It matured her pretty face.

“I need another shot …” Amy stumbled back to the bedside table where her bottle of vodka was.

Liz blocked her path with ease. She was going to have to be the sensible sober one tonight, no doubt.

“No more. We need to get going. Alex is waiting for us.” She grabbed Amy’s arm and pulled her to the kitchen where their purses waited.

“But what if my ex does show up? What if he brings his new fling? What if she’s really pretty?” Amy pouted. She grabbed her clutch, barely checking to make sure her wallet and keys were in there. Liz made a note to make sure she knew where that purse was at all times.

“It’s Halloween. None of the vampires and other sexy costumes are as pretty in the morning.” She ushered Amy out the front door, taking her friend’s key and locking the apartment.

They headed down the stairs, Amy moving slowly in her heels. She was graceful enough in normal heels, but these stilettos were screaming  “I need a distraction tonight.” Liz held on to her arm until they were safely onto the ground floor. With a final glance at their reflection in the window, they stepped out into the night.

The crisp Autumn air hit them with a gentle breeze. Liz swatted her fake ocean blue hair from her face and pulled out her phone.

“The party is on 7th street. Alex lives on 9th.” She read. “We’ll walk to him and then head out from there.”

Amy nodded. She turned and began waltzing away. Liz just sighed and pulled her the right direction. They headed down the street, walking through throngs of princesses, monsters, and movie heroes. Little vampires chased each other as a mummy tried to keep from ripping his toilet paper costume. A ghost or two was even sprinkled in.

Amy smiled at them all, accepting candy from one. Liz kept an eye on her. She was always a little too friendly and clingy with random people when drunk. It led to some awkward adventures.

The sea of kids in costume ebbed and heavy bass shook the street as Amy and Liz neared the roudier district. As they reached 9th street, Liz searched for anyone that wasn’t a parent.

“There! Amy, this way.” She headed towards the dark figure standing under the streetlight, shoulders slumped as they focused on something in their hand.

“Alex!” Amy drawled out, running too confidently in her heels to their friend. The figure turned and Liz paused a moment. That didn’t look like … Liz didn’t get to finish her thought as Amy tumbled to the ground. Liz moved to help her friend up. Alex bent down to assist the two, smiling. Liz looked up at him, meeting a familiar grin. The worry that had gnawed at her insides quickly faded.

“She was pregaming a little hard. The full force of it hasn’t hit her yet.” Liz rolled her eyes, looking at Amy. “Are you okay? Any cuts?”

“I’m fine, mom.” She rolled her pretty blue eyes and smiled at Alex. “Ready to get spooky?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she danced a little.

The corners of Alex's lips turned up into a smile and revealed a set of pearly fangs. “I most definitely am.”

“Then let’s go! I need another drink in the worst way.”

“Well, the party is on 9th. Alex, lead the way.” Liz said.

Amy dug around in her purse. She made a sound of excitement as she pulled out a personal sized bottle of Fireball.

“Seriously? When did you put that in there? No more shots!” Liz tried to swipe it from Amy, but she had already danced out of reach and cracked the seal of the bottle.

“I must have put in there last weekend. I thought I might find something good. I was hoping for a granola bar, but this is way better.” She gave a devilish smile as she tipped the contents into her mouth.

Liz sighed as Alex watched in amusement.

“Come, the party awaits.” Alex’s voice seemed higher, his tone a bit unfamiliar, but Liz shook it off as Halloween spirit. He was probably just working to stay in the vampire persona.

Amy laughed. “Awaits? You’re really in character. Maybe I need to take this more seriously.” She looked around. “I need a broom and a black cat. If I see one, I’m stealing it.”

“No, you aren’t,” Liz interjected as the group moved on.

Alex focused on to Amy, slowing his pace to match hers. “What do you have planned for the evening?” he asked. He moved closer and Amy threw an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“Naughty things. I’ve had some liquid courage and I have Liz to keep me safe. I have to get over my ex and I plan to do it epicly. I plan to go all out,” she said cheerfully.

Alex nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, I’m sure there’s many monsters in the sea tonight,” he joked with an eerie chuckle.

Amy smiled devilishly. “Oh, I hope so.”

When the three arrived on 7th street, there were more parties going on than Liz had expected. “Oh..wow..” She scrambled for her phone. “I can’t remember Jake’s address. Hold on…”

Alex reached to stop her with an icy hand. "No worries, I remember where it is."

Liz shivered and made a mental note to get him some gloves."

“I recall the address. Follow me,” he said. Liz looked over at Amy, who had already started over to a random house.

“Amy, no!” Liz said and quickly grabbed her. “We are not crashing any parties tonight!”

“Come on, we could just casually stop at all these parties,” she said. She spun around on the street making a show of the numerous open doors. Costumed partygoers clustered inside and out at many of them. “Free drinks, free fun. More people to meet.”

Liz shook her head. “No, come on. Alex, which house?”

He pointed a finger to what seemed like the only house on the street that had a closed door. The house was dark. Dark siding, dark roofing, dark windows. The lawn was barely tended, but lights strobed and flashed cutting through the darkness of the windows revealing the rave inside.

Amy and Alex strode up the steps, Amy ready to let loose upon entering.

Liz followed quickly up the sidewalk and to the door.

Alex gave a quick knock and the door flew open, music roared into the night as it was released from its walled prison. A woman almost as tall as the door frame smiled out at them. Her pale white hair streamed down in curls and braids. Fake ears peeked out from behind the thick locks. That paired with her floral halter top and long, flowing skirt, made her a very convincing elf.

The girl smiled flirtatiously at Alex. “I was wondering when you would arrive. The party is already well underway. Please come in.” She stepped aside and Alex walked in.

Amy followed quickly with Liz holding onto her hand, her eyes glittered with excitement. People filled every room in sight as music shook their bodies.

-----

Liz stopped just inside the door. The decor was breathtaking, a testament to the true Halloween spirit. It was beautiful and magical and had an air of danger. Jake had really gone all out this year, the decorations were practically floating. Amy pulled away from Liz and disappeared into the crowd while she stood in awe at the decor.

“Amy!” Liz shouted after her as the colorful sea of costumes closed in after her friend. The music was too loud and Amy disappeared with a flick of the black wig.

Alex leaned in and a chill penetrated the thin fabric of her sequined strapless dress.

“I’ll see if I can track her down,” he yelled, barely audible over the rhythmic bass shaking the house.

Liz nodded and Alex floated off into the fray. She pulled her sheer shawl around her shoulders and made her way into the heart of the party.

She could barely wrap her head around the size of the soiree. The house seemed so much more massive than it had originally appeared. She wove her way through what seemed like hundreds of elaborate costumes. Everything from gnomes to ghouls to gargoyles.

At the far end of the house, Liz found a moment of reprieve in the kitchen. A beautiful angel breezed over to her.

“You look a little lost. Can I get you something?” she asked.

“I’m actually looking for someone. Have you seen my friend Amy?” Liz asked. She pulled up a selfie that Amy had taken of them a few days earlier.

“Sorry dear, I haven’t seen your friend. Do be careful, will you? I have a bad feeling about this,” the woman replied.

“You’re kidding, right?”

The woman studied Liz for a moment before answering. “Oh yes, sorry. Someone must have put a little Halloween spirit in the punch, if you know what I mean.”

“All too well.”

“You should take another round of the party,” the angel suggested drawing back into the crowd. “Good luck finding your friend.”

“Thanks.”

Liz immediately regretted her choice of costume. It was hard to walk, the fitted shape constricted her movement. The flowing ruffles that gave the effect of a flowing tail dragged along the floor, easily caught underfoot she learned as a large fur boot landed and tore the fabric.

“Sorry about that!” The scruffy man turned toward her with an apologetic expression. He gestured to Amy who clung to him, swaying to the beat.

“Amy,” Liz cried.

“Actually, I’m Henri,” he chuckled. He was almost a foot taller than Amy and warmth radiated from his presence.

He directed Amy’s attention towards Liz. Amy smiled and stumbled into a hug with her friend.

“Lizzy, I love you. I love you so much.” She held onto Liz and swayed to the beat shooting seductive glances toward Henri.

The corners of Henri’s lips turned up. “Ah, Lizzy. You must be the best ‘mermom’ in the world that Amy has been going on about?”

“That sure sounds like Amy,” Liz said. “Thanks for keeping her safe.”

“Anytime.” Henri ran a hand through his beard. “You must have been looking for your friend the whole time. Let me get you a drink.”

“Actually, I’m the sober one tonight.” Liz glanced at Amy who had started pulling her along into the crowd.

“A water then. Don’t wander too far, I’ll be back,” he said with a smirk. “Your friend Amy sure seems to have a habit for wandering off.”

As he slipped off into the room, Amy pulled Liz through the sea of monsters that almost seemed to part just for her. The whole room seemed to converge on Alex when they bumped into him.

“Lizzy! I see you found Amy,” he said as he stepped between them and wrapped an arm around each of them. Intoxication evident on his breath.

Amy pulled away from his arm and began chatting up a shorter man, dressed as some type of goblin. The goblin didn’t seem that interested, but Amy was too drunk to care.

“Yep.” Liz said, a little uneasy. “Have you been drinking?”

“Oh, you know. A little here, a little there.” He smirked at her.

Liz raised an eyebrow at Alex. “You’re not really yourself tonight.”

He laughed. “It’s Halloween. No one is really themselves tonight.”

He pulled Amy into a twirl and pulled her close. Amy giggled as he said something into her ear.

Liz stepped out of their way and nearly tripped over the goblin Amy had chatted up.

“So sorry,” they said. Their voice raspy beneath the detailed prosthetics. They took a stiff step backward.

“Oh no, that was all me,” Liz replied. “Are you okay?”

They smoothed their costume and nodded. The unnatural movement of the costume seemed to throw them off balance. Liz reached out a hand to steady them but they pulled back, offended.

“I’m sorry about my friend, she’s a little …”

“Drunk, yes, I noticed.” The goblin looked uncomfortable. “I hope she can understand. I just don’t -- I mean, I’m not interested in …” The goblin gestured to Liz.

“Oh, you’re --.” Liz’s cheeks flushed red. “I am so sorry. Please forgive her. She’s dealing with a very rough break up.”

“I understand. It happens to the best of us.” They nodded again, steadier this time. “Lotor, by the way.”

“Liz.” Liz said. “I love your costume by the way, amazing attention to detail.

Lotor looked down at their tunic, a confused expression touched their eyes. “Thank you. It is the traditional garb of bank goblins.”

“Oh, like from Harry Potter!” Liz gushed.

“Eh, not exactly.” They said. “Actually, it’s more like--”

“Excuse me.” Henri materialized from the party behind Liz and passed her an unopened bottle of water. “Lotor, my good friend! Nice to see you out.”

“Henri.” Lotor acknowledged with a growl. “If you’ll excuse me --” He sneered and was consumed by the crowd.

“Have you seen Amy?” Henri shifted his attention to Liz.

“Yeah, she was just …” Liz drifted off when she looked over to where Amy and Alex had been dancing. “Where did she go? I swear she was just over there.”

Henri shrugged as he looked around. He stretched to look above most of the partygoers’ heads.

The atmosphere of the room shifted and a live band began to play. A cheer erupted on the other side of the room which suddenly seemed so much larger than it should have been.

“Please, for the love of all things sane …”

They turned as a member of the band pulled a now topless Amy out of the crowd. The singer danced with her while the band played the intro of Werewolves of London.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Liz smacked her forehead. “We’ve got to get her off the stage.”

The entire party erupted into an echo chamber of howls as the chorus played, Henri included.

“You too?” she raised an eyebrow.

Henri shrugged with an innocent smile.

-----

Liz gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll go get her,” she said, but Henri seemed to busy watching Amy dance and singing to hear her.

Liz slowly began pushing her way through the crowd, giving a barrage of ‘excuse mes’ and ‘sorries’ as she went. The music was booming and bodies were crashing against one another. A deep red drink was spilled on to Liz’s wig from behind, sending the stench of iron over her. She wrinkled her nose but kept powering on.

As she got closer to the stage, the singer dipped Amy down, kissing her neck playfully. His eyes were yellow with slitted pupils, likely due to contacts, and he looked ready to eat Amy alive. Panic filled Liz’s stomach like acid, bubbling up and making her feel nauseous.

She reached the stage, hoisting herself up and grabbing Liz from the man. “I’m sorry, but she’s not interested.” Liz’s tone was stone cold and firm.

“Oh come on, Lizzy, I was having fun!” Amy whined.

“Yeah, Lizzy, I think she’s pretty interested,” the man said, his eyes hungrily looking over Amy. Liz pulled off her shawl and threw it over Amy’s chest to cover her.

“I ran into Fabio before he took the stage. He’s a musician.” Amy gave a playful smile. Liz shook her head.

“I can see that. Now let’s go.” Liz pulled Amy away, hopping off the makeshift stage. She helped Amy down and lead her back through the crowd. A few people booed while others made comments about Amy’s body. All the while Amy pouted. She was having such a good time and Liz was ruining it.

A new band took the stage and a new song started. Liz was thankful as people rallied to a new song and lost interest in her half naked friend.

Attempting to make her way back to where she thought she had left Henri, Liz kept a tight hold on Amy’s arm. Every few steps she tried to stop, but Liz didn’t let up. This evening was getting ridiculous and she wanted to get Amy somewhere safer.

As Liz looked around the crowd, she noticed Fabio heading towards Alex. She slowed, watching the two lean in close and begin whispering, almost conspiratorially. Alex looked around and through the crowd met Liz’s stare. Confusion and a gut-wrenching feeling of dread went through her body as he gave a large, pointed smile towards her. Fabio followed his stare and sneered before agreeing to something Alex had said.

Liz grabbed Amy’s hand tighter and started pushing her way towards the door. Alex was acting extremely weird and it made Liz uncomfortable. She was worried about him, but Amy was in more need of her attention than Alex. He could handle himself.

As she reached the door, Amy stopped. “Alex! There you are. Isn’t this party just so great?” She asked, her words slurring. She reached for their friend and Alex smiled, taking her hand.

“You have had quite the evening, but you're not leaving yet, are you? It has only just begun.” Alex looked to Liz, her hand grabbing the door handle.

She was about to twist it when it moved, the door opening and forcing her to let go and move closer to Alex. Fabio stepped in, dark curls slightly tousled from the breeze outside. Liz had no clue how he had gotten out there so fast.

He stepped in and Liz took Amy’s hand, pulling her back to her. “Amy’s had a long night. It’s my job to get her home safe.”

“We can do that. Don’t you trust me, Lizzy?” Alex said, leaning closer to Liz. Something in his tone lured her to look into his eyes and for a moment, her mind went fuzzy. Why not stay? What was so wrong wi-

“There you two are!” A familiar voice said, breaking Liz from Alex’s control. “I was looking everywhere for you two.”

Amy’s face lit up. “Henri!” She scuttled over to him and Henri took his jacket off, giving it to her. “Did you see me on stage?”

He smiled and nodded. “Oh yeah, you were rockin’ hard.” He looked to Alex and Fabio, his face changing ever so slightly, hardening. “You two bothering these girls?”

“Of course not,” Alex said. “They were leaving and we were simply trying to convince them to stay.”

“Amy’s drunk. She needs food. I was thinking of taking her to Denny’s. It’s her favorite place to eat after a night out,” Liz explained quickly. She watched as Fabio moved from behind them and stood beside Alex.

Henri nodded, putting a protective arm around Amy. “I like that idea. Mind if I join?”

“Of course not, the more the merrier.” Liz looked to Alex and Fabio, hoping deep in her gut they wouldn’t tag along. Alex was just acting too strange and she really didn’t want him anywhere near herself or Amy now.

Henri gave the two a look and they quickly backed off, disappearing into the crowd of party goers.

“Let’s get pancakes!” Amy said, throwing her arms up in excitement. Liz smiled and opened the door, following the two outside.

-----

A sobering breeze washed over the trio as they walked toward the Denny’s on Hillcrest. Henri and Amy exchanged loving glances, his arm wrapped around her waist. Candles flickered out in the jack o'lanterns as the last bits of magic of the evening wore off. Smaller groups of drunk college students huddled together as they made their way home.

Henri pulled open the door and a frazzled waitress in a bat wing headband nearly tripped over Amy.

“Careful there,” Liz said as she helped the waitress steady herself.

“Sorry. Not sure if you’ll find a booth here, crazy night.” The waitress mumbled as she scuttered off.

They looked around the room and saw what she meant. Costumed customers bunched into booths, teemed tables and converged the counter. The place was packed.

Across the room, a friendly face waved for their attention. A dark-haired vampire with a costume store cape beckoned them over to the only empty booth in the room.

“Alex?” Liz shouted. She led a confused Amy and Henri over to the table.

“How did you get here so fast?” Amy asked. She and Henri pushed into the booth opposite Alex.

“Where the hell were you?” Alex pulled Liz into a hug. “I waited for almost an hour I missed the best part of the party!”

“What are you talking about? You brought us to Jake’s party. What the hell was that at the end?” Liz pushed him off of her.

“No? I looked for you all night and no one had seen you.”

“Alex, you were there. You and Amy were dancing, and you knew the band playing.” Liz recalled, suddenly less confident in what she had seen.

“Oh, you mean Alexa?” Herni chimed. “She’s quite the character. Bit of a bloodsucker though, don’t let her get too close.”

The realization of what he had implied dawned on her as she realized just how hairy he was.

“Liz, are you--?” Henri asked.

“I think I’m gonna--” she retched.

“Oh, are you okay?” The waitress from earlier had come over to take their order and the fact that she was too exhausted to care was evident in her voice.

“She’ll be fine.” A cheery Amy replied.

“Do you know what you want?” She asked the rest of the table.

“Two spicy skillets and a T-bone steak and egg, rare and over easy, please,” Henri ordered.

“Will that be all?” The waitress asked.

“Oh sorry, what do you guys want?” Henri asked Amy and Alex who tried to console  Liz.

“I’ll just have some of yours,” Amy said not looking up.

“Make that three spicy skillets. Alex?”

“Can I get a water for her and a chocolate shake?”

“So that’s three spicy skillets, rare T-bone and eggs over easy, water and a chocolate shake. Anything else?”

“Fuck, sorry, can you make that an Oreo shake?” Alex asked.

“Sure thing.” She adjusted the order. “Are you sure she’s going to be ok?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. She just needs a minute,” Amy replied. The waitress headed to the kitchen. “Deep breaths now. Everything’s going to be alright, Liz.”

“How do you know it’s going to be okay, Amy? Things are not going to be alright! We almost died tonight!”

“Nah, Henri would have kept us safe.”

“Wait, what exactly is going on?” Alex asked.

“Fucking Henri here is a fucking wolfman!” Liz shouted.

“Actually, we prefer Lycanthrope …” Henri eased.

“Amy, you gotta fill me in. What did I miss tonight?” Alex asked.

“Oh man, Alex. Do I have a story to tell you.”

[sparxwrites]

What if Pike had been in love with Vox Machina then moved on? Then Vox Machina realized they loved her when she stopped being in love with them? She'd never stop loving them, but she isn't holding out for any of them. Maybe her first partner that they know about kinda looks like one of them, but eventually she finds someone who's hers? Separate from Vox Machina, someone who won't leave constantly and will stay with her? Vex and Percy are married now and Vax is absolutely fucking alive, and /pt 1

Pt 2/ Pike stays behind in Whitestone more often than not and they're settled? Vox Machina still gets into trouble, but Pike always has been the sensible one. They come back from an adventure to see Pike sharing a little house with a woman they've only met a few times? Gosh what if instead of her being separate, the woman mirrors Vox Machina in subtle ways? Vex seeing herself in the woman's dark hair and sly smile, Percy seeing himself in her sharp words, Keyleth seeing herself in her /pt 2

Pt 3/ passionate way of talking about something she loves (usually Pike), Vax seeing himself in her heart that's too big for her chest and how she loves with everything she has, Grog seeing himself in how readily she encourages Pike's bad ideas and how she can drink them under the table and how she loves Pike fiercely, and finally Scanlan seeing himself in her marquesian (sp?) accent and the soft way she hums to herself absently when she cooks or restrings her bow and such. But despite the /pt 3

Pt 4/ similarities, she's her own person and she /loves/ Pike, and Pike very clearly loves her just as much. Pike finding happiness? Not relying on Vox Machina to be okay, building herself a stable and happy life while they risk their lives? Pike works at the temple every day and the woman brings her lunch, sometimes, and Pike visits the woman where she works at the smith's or the stables or maybe even as one of Vex's hunters? Vox Machina watching Pike be happy, their little house cluttered /pt4

Pt5/ with both their things, clearly lived in and it's /theirs/. Pike's armor and mace sitting by the woman's leathers and bow, their kitchen small enough they bump into each other even with how small Pike is (neither can really cook, it's an adventure of its own just trying to figure that out). An elf, maybe, or a half elf, her long limbs and deep tan skin contrasting with Pike so well? Idk where I'm going with this, but Pike being fucking happy and having someone who loves her unconditionally?

Re my last ask about Pike being happy, fuck it I'm going to write it because Pike deserves peace

anon honestly i am 100% on board with this? give my sad and beautiful gnome a wife. please. i beg of you. she deserves to be happy, and appreciated, and seen as a whole, flawed, imperfect, perfect human being, rather than held on the pedestal of goodness and holiness that vm put her on all the time...

[daimonic-clown]

Kelgorm (3)

Blade's Edge was known for a few main things. Demonic encampments were here, along with the remnants of untainted orcs, experimentation from Alliance engineers, as well as one of Illidan's prime allies: Gruul. Rather, late ally, for the adventurers of Azeroth in their assault had dispersed of him as well.

Kelgorm started to understand the land for something more, though. It was fiercely hostile. Upon being placed on a goose chase by an arakkoa, he had little expections once he made arrangements and organized payment for a flight to Blade's Edge Mountains. It was thrilling to fly above the towering, imposing spikes that made up the "mountains", knowing that at any moment impalement could potentially follow. In the distance, Kelgorm could even see the decayed corpses of dragons -- the unfortunate prey of Gruul and his children, it seemed.

The land was harsh, yes, but most important it was unsuspecting. Kelgorm landed in Toshley's Station and hired a rather eccentric gnome to escort him to the near, and abandoned, demonic camp. It was known only as Forge Camp: Anger. Sure, the adventurers may have dismantled one potential hope from Kelgorm in slaying Illidan, but in their crusade of demonic forces all about Outland, they left behind camps of potential understanding.

There was a familiarity Kel had with this sort of gathering of knowledge. The Legion gathered tomes, magical items, and sometimes mortal of worth in corrupting or manipulating. The extent of knowledge that the gnome had was limited, perhaps as significant as the average adventurer that had participated in the assault of one of the three Forge Camps in Blade's Edge:

"There's nothin' there, I'm sure of that," she had said as they both carefully walked along the trail going north towards the camp. "Bomb after bomb blowing it all to bits, demons dead. You'll just find the stench of lingering fel, pal."

The elf nodded, not hearing the gnome at all. The possibility he could find a vulnerability, or the answer he has hunted for was the only thought sticking to the inside of his skull. Not the girlish voice of the gnome, or even the grumbling, bestial sounds from the hostile creatures nearby. The gnome was none the wiser to her not-so-captivated audience.

"Only a matter of time 'fore we pull out of here anyways," she paused for a length to pull out her rifle preparatively. A raptor was getting confidence in its stride and seemed to be bounding towards the pair. That was until it caught the scent of a wounded meal, and bound in the opposite direction. The gnome eased up and continued, "people're gettin' anxious back in Azeroth, Kael'thas is rumored to have been aided in revival by the Deceiver."

Kelgorm now listened partially. Certainly, it should peak his interest. However, it also furthered his unsatiable desire to find answers; a way to obliterate the Legion.

"That is why my work at the Forge Camp is all the more important, no? I was sent to catch wind of their operations and plans."

The gnome gave a shrug. "I'll drop you off and wander around to be sure the way's clear going into 'nightfall' -- this place can get rather wild when its dark. Think that'll be enough time for your search?"

Kelgorm nodded his head distractedly again. His thoughts, once again, on visions of possible wonder, in a base of utter chaos.

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

Kelgorm did not want to admit to the gnome she may have been right in the uselessness of the encampment. The elven scholar had managed to find fragments of metal from structures long demolished, as well as medallions with various symbols on them. They often made up random words, some meaning perhaps to the demon that possessed it, some paramount to rituals they may perform.

Four medallions, Kelgorm translated them as, 'death', 'summon', 'eye', and 'tome.' Though he may as well have not known their meaning, for in any sort of variation, there was little use for it.

He had spent too much time at the front of the camp. He did not want to admit it, but it was because of an omnious humming he had heard beyond a large structure in the center. The structure itself was a demonic teleporter. However, the humming was undoubtedly not coming from the teleporter; there was something else, perhaps another structure still humming with almost-spent energy?

When the medallions were all gathered, scraps of metal observed for the third time, Kel suffered from boredom and disappointment now. That humming, however, seemed more and more odd as time had passed. It seemed less as the lingering hum of chaotic machinery, and more as if it had called to him. As if it could only speak a gibberish tongue that cried for the elf's eyes to witness.

He found himself wandering towards it distractedly. When finally it was revealed, Kelgorm saw a floating green crystal. It floated ten feet above the ground and was quite large, perhaps under half the size of the towering teleporter. It was the source of the humming, but had something disturbed it to create that sound?

The gibberish had cleared itself considerably when Kelgorm was close. The humming was no longer in his ears, but now ringing in his head with a cacophany. It had dragged Kelgorm to  his knees in growing agony and insanity, until finally a deep voice rumbled his core.

You were a fool to come here. You'll be both of our deaths, elf.

Kelgorm had to catch his breath as the pain subsided. He now had to bear through the irritation of an invader in his head. He knew to keep his composure -- it was not the first time something like this had happened. Instinctively, he spoke aloud, though quietly.

"Why am I a fool? Who are you? Are you in the crystal?"

The voice was silent for a length. Then, They are here.

"Who is here?" Kelgorm shot his gaze around, to the hills, the peaks of the mountains. He looked over the crystal to see if trickey was done to divert his attention. All that had caught his eye was shining crystals, looking jagged yet as colorful as a rainbow below the contrasting sickly green of the fel-prison.

It was in that instant Kelgorm saw only stars, then felt the merciless harshness of the hard, tainted ground; he had been knocked unconscious. Two orcs and a human, all decorated in robes and adorned with bones, stepped from their hiding behind the teleporter. A fourth robed orc appeared from seemingly nowhere, location revealed at first from a cloud of green mist.

"No more interruptions," he said in a weak voice, "are we prepared to release the prisoner?"

From behind Kelgorm, a brown-skinned orc -- the clobberer of the elf -- motioned a hand towards the colorful crystals below the prison. "Right there, master. We still don't have a suitable source for it, though."

The three cultists that had hidden themselves positioned equidistant around the crystal. They were silent, and prepared for their deeds, it seemed. The other, the one who had appeared in a cloud of mist, had pointed an unkempt, pointed nail at the intruding elf.

"I think our source has come to us, hm?"