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shadow-logan · 9 months ago

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the end of the beginning... or the beginning of the end?

here's everything that i've compiled into shadow's backstory so far! a lot of this is stream of consciousness and hasn't been edited/pared down. enjoy!

(i'll eventually format this for tumblr lol)

SHADOW-LOGAN

Motive & Minor Goals

Wants to learn more about himself and feel whole/complete; wants to learn what it means to be alive and why he was given a second chance.

Would love to learn to cook and make a meal for the party

Wants to turn his monster parts into wearable jewelry (stim toys, too, maybe?)

Definitely wants to learn more spells! His current special interest is magic & all things arcane

Backstory to Shadow’s Backstory

“I am a Shadow of past lives”

The name “Shadow” was chosen by him; he officially adopted it when he met the party in the Underdark and they asked what his name was. Shadow rose from the dead one day and realized he was a shadow of past lives, memories and experiences. He joined the Black Network/Zhentarim in the hopes of finding a connection to these memories he knew didn’t belong to him; he’s trying to decipher the code that is his own mind and, now, lived experience.

Beginning of His Story (kind of doesn’t align w/ a later story but wtv lol)

"By the light of the moon, I confide in you"

Selûne, goddess of the moon

Knowledge & Life

Pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars

On the 15th of Uktar (November in Faerûn), just after midnight, Shadow awoke in the Mere of Dead Men. The night was dimly lit by a full moon; he rose from the gently lapping waves with a gasp and wearing nothing but plainclothes and various piercings.

Disoriented and panicked, he felt a reassuring warm presence envelop him. The presence cleared his mind; he noticed the light of the moon shining brightly on the nearest section of road and began to wade over. Shadow climbed onto the solid ground and continued to search for clues as to where—and who—he was. The presence made Itself known as Selune—he didn’t see or hear her, but felt a certain warmth being cast on to him by the light of the full moon, a direct juxtaposition to the frigid Uktar night. He felt Her presence again, just before arriving in Waterdeep. While looking around for landmarks, Shadow saw a small merchant caravan in the distance coming towards him. Hiding in the nearest foliage to camouflage himself, he eavesdropped. He overheard them squabbling over which direction to take; one person mentioned they just left Waterdeep and gestured to where Shadow assumed the city was. Since this was his only hint towards where he would find substantial, established civilization, he decided to follow it.

By this time, dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon and it had started raining, though the last trickles of warm light from the moon blanketed the entrance archway/sign/generic entrance of Waterdeep; Shadow felt a small, invisible nudge towards it. When he entered the town, Shadow was overwhelmed with how busy it was! Logic dictated he ask for help, so he did, but was ignored by any people that were awake (mostly caravans & merchant stalls unpacking for the day); people shot him quizzical and angry stares. This apathy towards him was due to his overall appearance (only plainclothes, oddly coloured hair and skin, and covered in muddy residue), but Shadow didn’t understand why these strangers would display only reluctance towards assisting him.

That night, he stalked the alleys of Waterdeep, seeking some sort of shelter from the elements. The inn was closed for the night, so he kept to the shadows and unseen corners of town. The next morning, Shadow kept a low profile but decided to explore the city. He found the Church again, but this time saw a small parchment poster on a wooden signboard pertaining to Selune; this is how he knew he was being protected—the feeling of warmth returned when he read this poster promoting Her teachings. Once he thanked Her with what semblance of prayer he could muster, Shadow once again felt the same warmth he did when he first awoke. During his quiet patrol, Shadow crossed paths with his future Zhentarim mentor. Our newly-reborn wolf-man was anxiously stalking the shadows of the streets, which Jamna Gleamsilver immediately noticed.

Jamna Gleamsilver, Shadow’s future mentor, was on a low-profile mission in Waterdeep when she saw Shadow trying to hide from the cityfolk and, empathizing with him, offered to help him. She asked for more information but he was both unwilling and unable to give any. Jamna promised him gold, a dagger and a place to stay for the night on the condition that he helped her with a mission; the mission being to steal gold from a local nobleman. Not knowing where else to turn, and not having yet formed a conscience to guide him, Shadow set off to pickpocket this man.

He was successful and returned the gold to Jamna, much to her delight. She let him keep his new loot, gave him one of her daggers and paid for a night at the local inn. Jamna visited him the next morning and complimented how nimble he was with his hands when pickpocketing the nobleman. She then proceeded to invite him to join the Zhentarim. Being completely unknowing of the world he was “birthed” into, and curious as to who these “Zhentarim” folks were, Shadow agreed. He thought this would be the perfect way to find out more about himself; he would be making connections and traveling, so surely he would learn more.

Jamna trained him on how to use basic weapons, some magic and in the art of stealth. Using the money he stole from others and earned from missions, Shadow bought himself new clothes, a backpack, pouches, and a couple of other weapons and supplies. Jamna took Shadow in as not only an apprentice, but as her son… or as close to it as her abilities as a parent would allow (Shadow would end up being more of a father to her than she was a mom to him). The last time he saw his mentor was before his mission to infiltrate the Web in The Underdark.

Personality & Favourite Things

Though Shadow knows he doesn't need material necessities like food, or those of the intangible variety like sleep, he appreciates them nonetheless, if not more than his comrades. To him, food is a luxury that he can indulge in and is a catalyst for a quiet moment with the party that allows them to connect. He sees meals as an avenue which he can use to create memories with people he has allowed himself to feel close to.

His favourite foods and beverages are jam-filled biscuits, rabbit stew, any kind of tea (would love to learn to make and brew his own blends) and any meal shared with the party, really. Shadow appreciates food and was surprised when the party was not more excited about Reidoth’s stews. Shadow equates their reaction to them just eating out of necessity and not having the luxury of choosing what they consume. He also assumed that they must have eaten a lot of stew before leaving home and embarking on their adventure.

Shadow absolutely loves the world’s flora and fauna, regardless of what the rest of team SASACOD (now Team RollCALL) thinks. He will jump at every opportunity to collect plants and monster parts; not only do these trinkets represent moments spent with the party, but they—the plants, especially— remind him that he is alive.

Shadow will always find a way to get his hands on anything shiny; if it twinkles— figuratively or literally—he’ll take it. A prime example would include the mirror that Lily and Caim tried to hide when they were in the Underdark. His friends had desperately attempted to hide the mirror from him out of fear. Shadow had previously climbed a statue, noticed the eyes he was eyeing (ayy lmao) weren’t real gems, but still removed them… the ceiling collapsed on his friends, almost killing Lily. Yet, he was the only one who could find out more information on the mirror (Identify). His curiosity for shiny new knowledge and shiny new physical objects has almost literally killed him and his comrades.

*he thinks vylet is shiny uwu*

A Rose by Any Other Name

“You live in the dark, boy, I cannot pretend; I'm not fazed, only here to sin”

Prior to meeting SASACOD, Shadow bore the name “Logan” in informal contexts. He sensed something different about the ragtag misfit group, though; he unconsciously saw them as an opportunity to improve and a chance for freedom. Shadow only felt any semblance of connection to the name “Logan” because it was the first thing, besides a new life, that belonged to him. Even so, he never had the opportunity to love or grow with the name, as it was chosen on a whim and

When asked for his name by the party, Shadow replied with “Shadow… because I always stalk the shadows”. It was—he believed—a tactful deflection. Not only did this name and response assist in cloaking his past persona, but contribute to the one he was currently presenting to the party: an emotionally distant and troubled criminal. Though merely a way to not draw suspicion to the Zhentarim, and his then-current mission, the Reborn felt as though he truly was reborn; now he had a new life with a new family (he didn’t think of them that highly at that point).

Shadow has grown to love his new alias as he’s realized he’s a shadow of past lives. While he doesn’t know who, or what, he was previously, Shadow finds solace in the connection to life and vitality that his name carries.

June 28th (2021? 22?) edit: While “Logan” never held much value to him, a recent flashback in the form of a dream might convince Shadow to reconsider his stance. In the dream, a mentor/friend figure referred to him as “Logan”. This name now bears some weight, if only because it serves as a catalyst for another puzzle-solving journey; he is always seeking an excuse to learn (also following that dopamine yeehaw). He furiously recorded the events of the dream—something he rarely experiences—in Glasstaff’s notebook (with regular ink) so he would never forget something that actually belonged to him: a memory of himself.

Logan’s (Shadow’s) Room

LOGAN’S ROOM

The Zhentarim

“Everything—and everyone—has a price.”

Feelings on the Zhentarim

Shadow is a part of the Zhentarim and has a dragon tattoo (Zhent crest) on his back, which is his identifier. Though he believes it’s not necessarily the worst mercenary group to be a part of, he recognizes their manipulative and toxic tendencies. The organization gave Shadow his first taste of home and freedom, but now he’s unlearning everything they taught him; their way isn’t the only way.

He’s happier now that he’s not restricted by their ideologies, but is still bound to them in a sense: he still has to complete a mission (update: mission complete). Though they still have that control over him, he’s considered leaving, or somehow pretending to stay, but will always have that figurative and literal dragon on his back, reminding him that he is their property.

While excited to leave the Underdark to visit the Mere of Dead Men, Shadow is also rather anxious about it as well. Once he resurfaces, he fears he’ll have to face the Zhentarim again and feign being a loyal member. He wants to continue his work with the Zhents because he feels validated when completing missions, but he knows that the organization as a whole is not “true family”, as they would claim. Shadow has spoken with Vylet about this on occasion, which worries him even more.

Vylet was previously involved with the Xanathar’s Guild and understands Shadow’s perspective on the topic of Guild involvement. However, he fears that the Zhents may target and use her as leverage, should he leave. Lillian Carbin has already seen Shadow’s party members, including Vylet; he doesn’t know how much Carbin already knows about her.

Shadow was nervous before, but now he’s incredibly anxious. After almost murdering Sutcha the Butcha, she punched him square in the jaw in front of all of Glasstaff’s prisoners—including Carbin. Prior to this event, he was carrying the then-unconscious Sutcha (he had cast Sleep on her) on his back and had walked into his worst nightmare: a brightly-lit, round room, with Lillian and Vylet conversing & playing poker. After the events of The Mirror occurred, Carbin witnessed a deranged and burned Shadow being carried out of the Underdark entrance by Caim. Shadow is debating whether to cut off all connections to the Zhentarim by way of killing her, or if he should somehow bargain with his fellow assassin—something he worries may come back to haunt him.

Zhent Jobs

Though he prefers to work under the guise of night, Shadow has been tasked with face-to-face meetings during light hours. In his words:

Something that works out in my favour during these face-to-face meetings is that I named myself after I got my Web infiltration gig and wore a disguise every time. The Zhentarim just gave me a new codename for every job and presented that as truth to our partners. I’ve gone by “Axioche Riverdawn”, “Elduin Equinox” and “Mavilius Thornblood”. Nobody can track me or my superiors; on the very rare occasion that anyone asks about “me”, they feign ignorance, which is absolutely hilarious to witness when these confrontations happen in the Zhent Mansion, our headquarters. I’ll be casually walking to submit a report and an angry client will start complaining about how “MaViLiUs ThOrNbLoOd SwInDlEd [Me]”, not knowing that “Mavilius” literally just walked by them, haha.

His current Zhentarim Mission - UPDATE: FINISHED (~27TH OF ELEASIS)

Shadow was tasked with going to Leilon, rendez-vousing with Lillian Carbin, and getting a report about what's been going on in Leilon, because she hasn't reported back in a while. He is to send the info back to Jamna Gleamsilver in Waterdeep.

He doesn’t necessarily have to go back down to Waterdeep and deliver the report himself; he could send a coded letter by caravan or courier, or even just give a written report/letter to another Zhentarim agent when he next arrives in a city with a Zhent presence. Shadow could just save Lillian Carbin and let her do the rest on her own.

This mission was his first mission after being promoted; he had killed a local nobleman that was a thorn in the Zhent’s side.

Another Update: he found her in a room in the Underdark, along with other captives.

Update 2: She’s now in her home in Leilon & the mission is complete (he had also sent off a letter when in Neverwinter)

Silent Night (told from shadow’s pov)

The target was a local minor nobleman in Waterdeep the Zhents didn’t like [looks down and clasps his hands]. His name was Novus Goldenfoot--he was an elf man. It was the mission that promoted me, actually [chuckles sardonically].

But yeah, um, he was trying to grow his own private merchant’s guild. It was a small business, but he had access to luxury goods—like some spices—that the Zhents didn’t. They saw him as a threat—a threat that could and should be easily disposed of. I had already completed a bunch of low-profile underground trade missions, so they trusted me with information and completing secret jobs. I remember my mentor, Jamna Gleamsilver, giving me a slip of parchment and saying, “Dispose of him and you’ll be promoted. They’ll start giving you higher-profile missions and favouring you. They need this done by the end of the week, and you need to do it alone.” I didn’t think much of it, but I nodded and did as I was told. I was given the mission on a…. Monday?, I think.

Until Friday, I scouted the area, learned my target’s patterns and who he communicated with regularly. I also made sure to source information by way of eavesdropping and any local news that was spread (word of mouth or newspaper???). Novus had two guards who took shifts patrolling his estate; one during the day and one at night. The night guard circled the mansion while the day guard stayed in one place. Night was my best option, though, since Novus came home at the same time everyday and stayed in what I assumed was his study. He had a wife and a… um… [clears throat] a child. They usually kept to the parlour?... The main room. They spent time together after a couple of hours, for a couple of hours.

I took out the guard, first. Before I was in his line of sight, I cast Disguise Self to look like Goldenfoot, then went straight for the throat. He was a lot easier to knock out than expected—pressure points are always fun to target, haha. I also just kept him standing up so he wouldn’t look unconscious. I climbed up to the roof, quickly entered through Novus’ study window when I knew he would be leaving his desk, and hid behind a bookshelf. As soon as he turned off his lamp, but before he opened the door, I made my move. In one swift motion, I put a sack over his head, tied it as tightly as possible, then slowly lowered him to the floor. Though I love a good stabbing, there would be too much blood left behind, meaning too much evidence. I tied a knot around his neck, heaved him over my shoulder, and made my way out the window.

Thankfully the drop wasn’t that far, and all the townsfolk were asleep, because I literally just let his body fall to the ground on the grass, which I knew would dampen the sound. Closing the window quietly, I started my descent, picked up my target and returned to base. They didn’t expect me to return the body, but they were impressed; I completed my mission cleanly, in a timely manner… and brought proof.

Stories from the Zhentarim (told from shadow’s perspective)

Never on the same page; he is unwritten

Formal Gala

February 6th (3:14am) 2022 edit: wow so Momna covered for him, knowing full well that Shadow killed Xav's dad. She's a true homie.

There were Zhent social events higher-ups would organize—to flaunt and remind us of their status, I assume. I was a bodyguard-slash-plus one for Jamna at some of those events and I hated it. People complimented me. Why? I was the only person with animal ears and a tail there, so I stuck out like a sore thumb. Why would they go out of their way to be nice to me? The answer is they weren’t. It was all for show and I knew it. Jamna was just there for the moonshine and seeing her drunk was entertainment enough, so that was compensation for my uncomfortability.

I also hate getting dressed up. Why do I have to look a certain way to be included? If they’re my family, as they claim, they would accept me as I am. Jamna says these events are supposed to be “fun”, “make you feel special” and “to present yourself positively to employers and potential ‘partners’”. She tried to set me up with a couple girls and guys at one event, and I’ll admit some people were aesthetically pleasing, but that’s where our connection started and ended.

There was this one half-elf guy named Xavlith whom Jamna formally introduced me to (she promised he was “my type”.... I should’ve asked what that meant). I panicked a bit, as he was the one who gave me my crescent moon tattoo, and we had already gone on a “date�� Jamna didn’t know about… meaning he knew something about me most people didn't. Also, he touched my fucking face. I never let anyone get that close, unless my blade is closer to their throat than they are to me. He approached me nonchalantly and said he had wanted to “take me out again” and I immediately grabbed my dagger. He explained that he was asking me on another “date”.

I don’t understand people. Just tell them how you feel and don’t beat around the bush, right? If he thought I was attractive, he literally could’ve just told me. I would’ve assumed he was lying or trying to make me vulnerable to some form of torture, but it might’ve been nice to hear, especially from someone who was actually attractive.

Later that night, there was this one cute—and probably a little tipsy—elf girl named Elincia who wanted to get me a drink and I straight-up declined. Our proceeding conversation went like this:

Her: Oh, but don’t you drink?

Me: I only trust what I make myself, sorry

Her: You can trust the Zhents, though… you can definitely trust me

She touched my arm and I was severely uncomfortable. Having someone unexpectedly touch my arm doesn’t make me trust them more.

Me: I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re implying.

Her: Then I’ll stop implying. I’ll show you exactly what I mean back at my place tonight.

Why are people like this? I just came to appease a drunken Jamna. I didn’t come to have people speak in code. I hated this.

Me: I’d rather not. I don’t know where you live, and I think that’s a good thing. That proves you’re a good merc who knows how to cover their trail.

Elincia whispered the next statement in my ear… Well, she gestured for me to lean over since I kind of towered over her, and I reluctantly obliged.

Her: I think you’re hot and want to get to know you and your body better.

I wanted to cry. She literally just met me—could we even call it “meeting”? I found out her name—she didn’t even ask for mine—and then she wanted to rail me. Aside from seeming drunk, I couldn’t think of a logical explanation for her advances. I searched everywhere for Jamna, but it was evident I had lost her. I started dissociating and stuttering. I mean… It was nice to be complimented, but this just proved how superficial people are.

Me: M-my ment-mentor is drunk-k-k. I nee-eed to h-help he-her.

I immediately turned around, walked a bit, and found Jamna at the barrel of booze on the other side of the room and dragged her out by the scruff of her collar—thankfully she’s small. I dropped Jamna off at our place; she was essentially fostering me, except I was more of a dad to her than she was a mom, or parent, to me. After tucking her into bed—yes, in whatever she was wearing that night—, I ran away for two days. I mean, Jamna didn’t seem to notice, or did a good job of pretending she didn’t, which I appreciated.

I literally just took whatever I could fit into a backpack, jumped out my window, and ran into the woods outside of Waterdeep. I just needed to be away from people. During my sweet escape, I observed plants. The first thing I did, though, was hurl. Gross… I know. Then I cried (even more gross)... and clawed at some trees. I guess this part of the story is about how a tree saved my life.

Just Give me a Treeson

Just a leafle bit’s enough

Alrighty, now that we have a subtitle after that segue, here’s the full story: I don’t need to eat, though I enjoy eating with my current… friends… ya, I guess they’re friends. Anyway, it turns out that my body doesn’t appreciate that sometimes; I think it’s a past life, or something, coming to haunt me. After I made sure Jamna was safe, and my stuff was packed, I ran for… Selune knows how long! I was so anxious and had been running forever and my body just shut down. When my insides decided to be outsides, I dropped to the ground. My knees hit the ground so hard they were bruised for a week afterwards. Once my stomach decided it had enough, I started crying.

I hate crying. Tears are coarse, rough, irritating and get everywhere. I was far enough away from civilization that I knew nobody would hear me, not that they would want to stick around if they did hear. I screamed, I shouted and just let it all out. That feeling was something I could do without. My eyes were swollen and red—a stark contrast from my permanent sleep-deprived visage—and my throat hurt from all the yelling. Once my body felt like it had officially surrendered to the emotional pain, I hit a tree trunk with the butt of my fist.

This was when it hit me—not the tree, but a realization!: I’ve never actually touched a tree before. This tree was here before me and will probably still be here after me, or the next incarnation of me, I guess. That night I stayed up feeling the bark, the leaves, and the roots of this tree.

Once dawn kissed dusk good morning, I started observing the rest of the plants around me. I like plants. They’re pretty magical; like, did you know that some leaves change colour depending on the season?! I didn’t. All of that day was spent wandering and wondering; wandering the forest and wondering what everything was. I wish I had a notebook to record everything, or something to capture what I saw, so I could’ve shared it with Jamna.

On the other hand, I’m glad it was just me and the trees. I got to learn about them and the other living things. What did I learn? That nature is rad and running away solves your problems about fifty percent of the time. No, seriously… ish. I also learned that feelings make me vulnerable. I was so immobilized because of my social anxiety that I froze and then fled. This experience also taught me that, sometimes, the best strategy in combat can be to simply immobilize your target.

Let’s take the fight with Glasstaff for example. I wanted nothing more than to watch him bleed dry by my own hands. However, other experiences have taught me that selfishness can immobilize your team (the statue incident, for example). Instead of simply stabbing him, I stole his staff: the one thing that he needed to cast magic. Once you learn of a target’s weak point(s), abuse it (/them). My proven weak points include my ADHD, social anxiety and feelings towards Vylet. Only two of those three things are within my control, though. Equipped with this knowledge, I’ve learned to use my ADHD as my armour.

I’m the only one on our team who can hyperfocus, and be interested in gaining knowledge about enemies through reading materials, for example. While Lily was disinterested in the Shadow Ink notes I had found, I was and still am invested. I also like being alone because it lets me focus on the task at hand. This is part of the reason why I love becoming invisible! I can complete a task without anyone noticing and I don’t get overstimulated, since nobody bothers me! I’m working on the other two major vulnerabilities I have, but at least I’ve Identified (lol) them, thanks to the tree.

The tree stopped me from hurting myself physically and emotionally by grounding me in the present. I don’t even remember where the tree was because I was too distracted by my own thoughts and then guided back to Jamna’s place by the moon the next night.

So, ya, that’s how a tree saved my life. The End?

Sea-zing the Opportunity

→ Shadow was sent to report in with a Zhentarim operative named The Snail, who then tasked him with meeting with Catvia, the secretary of Duchess Morwen Daggerford, ruler of Daggerford and representative of the city to the Lord's Alliance

→ The Zhentarim had already been in communication with Catvia for a little bit, identifying her as corrupt and easily manipulated, and wanted Shadow to be the first real operative to meet with her in person and establish a connection in order to try and get her to add Zhent requests in to the duchess' LA council meeting info and stuff

→ Known to his associates as "The Snail" because of his slow, deliberate way of talking

Though I’ve had some pretty negative encounters with people trying to make passes at me, I’ve, unfortunately, had to do the same to others. Those prior experiences prepared me, though. When trying to get information out of people, you have to play to their emotions and tell them exactly what they want to hear. The difficult part is believability; I prefer deception because you don’t need to tell the truth, can craft your own, and don’t really need to insert true emotion anywhere.

I once had a gig in Daggerford that involved the Mariners’ Alliance. My contact was a human woman named Catvia. I was tasked with collaborating with her to organize another trade route that would be profitable to the Zhentarim. We already worked with them; we just wanted to have access to more of their ships, and possibly connect with other towns, using the Mariners’ ship space to transport our goods. Anyway, Catvia knew I’d be arriving and was aware that I was a new, young recruit. She’s only a couple of years older than me, but has been in business with the Mariners’ and the Zhents longer than I’ve been alive, haha.

We met at the docks and moved to the local tavern to talk. She tried to put on a tough front, but I could sense a familiar energy; this was how I behaved around Xavlith during… our first time. She was nervous and was overcompensating. I took advantage of that vulnerability, learning from my prior mistakes with Xavlith. I started flirting with her, even though that went against my values and every fibre of my being was uncomfortable. She’s shorter than me, which worked to my advantage; I leaned in and “I [told] that broke bitch ‘if you wanna get in tune, better change your whole pitch’” (bro idek how long it’s been since i wrote this but i’m still laughing. August 4th 2021 edit: wtf i’m hilarious lmao. Aug 26th edit: WHY IS THIS STILL FUNNY LMAO). I even did the whole lip-biting-smoulder-brushing-my-chin-with-my thumb-eyebrow movement-thing (IT’S OCTOBER 12TH WHY AM I STILL TEARING UP FROM LAUGHTER) (BRO IT IS JANUARY 15TH 2022 AND I’M STILL CRYING FROM LAUGHTER LMAO). Apparently people love tall dudes with piercings, so I check off a lot of people's boxes, haha. I know it’s not right, and I don’t enjoy doing it, but that’s showbiz, baby.

I broke down her barrier and I could see it; I hit the jackpot. She had difficulty keeping eye contact, but I never stopped looking at her, or morerather, the space between her eyebrows. I hate eye contact because, one: you feel a connection to the person and vice-versa and, two: they’ll remember your face. Anyway, she started brushing her hair behind her ear, her voice raised in pitch and she was smiling a lot more now. I hated it. I felt so gross because I didn’t have romantic feelings for this woman, but was deceiving her… huh… I like deceiving, so I guess that instance was at least somewhat justifiable.

Regardless, I pretended to be absolutely enthralled with her every word and even threw in a couple of laughs when I could tell she was trying to crack jokes. Before asking about the Zhents, I asked about her, in an attempt to continue my facade. I [gulps] brushed the back of her hand with my index finger, the same way Xavlith brushed mine during our first "date". She was severely blushing—disgusting. She answered my questions, then I pretended to just so happen to remember what the goal of the meeting was.

[fade to black]

Needless to say, we got extra ships and cargo real estate.

Also, I hate people.

Relationships

Jamna Gleamsilver

“They're gonna clean up your looks; With all the lies in the books; To make a citizen out of you”

“This is what you’ll think of me; It’s going down like I told you”

Jamna, the gnome wizard-assassin, was the closest person Shadow had to a parent. Though the stout woman seemed to love alcohol more than any living being, she held a soft spot for the wolf-boy orphaned by the world.

She first found Shadow on the 20th of Uktar—just five days after his revival—when he had been keeping to the unseen corners of Waterdeep. The assassin was on a low-profile mission to lighten the pockets of a local nobleman who had been slowly monopolizing a prime Zhentarim customer demographic. Jamna was about to round a corner and cut through an alleyway to her destination, when she spotted Shadow. The boy was sitting huddled on the cobblestone ground behind a large crate, bright yellow cat eyes returning a glare at the sound of her footsteps nearing.

Wary of the unexpected and unfamiliar presence, Jamna approached with caution.

“Who are you?”, Shadow snarled, “Come to hunt me like the rest of them?”, solidifying his stare. She had been reaching for her dagger, but her hand froze over the sheath at the question. “ … No. I should be more worried about who you are, kid. Where are your parents?”, Jamna retorted, with her slight drawl. “None of your business… but I don’t have any?”, Shadow responded confusedly. Eyes slowly growing wide and stance relaxing, she responded, “The streets aren’t any place for a kid. You don’t enjoy it, do you?”.

The Reborn’s eyes slowly transitioned to their normal state of pale yellow. “Why are you bothering with me?”, he deflected. Jamna climbed onto the brown crate Shadow was resting against, in an attempt to be closer to eye level. “I haven’t told anyone this, but you’re an exception—I feel like you’ll understand. I ran away from home… not a great place… not the worst, but definitely not good. I found a family with my current employers”, she continued with her drawl, “I want to extend the same opportunity to you”; a smirk grew across her face and a glint reflected in her eye.

Excited at the prospect of finding others like him, and others who would likely welcome him in, Shadow’s ears perked up to attention and twitched forward, his brows furrowing slightly. “What makes you think I trust you? You haven’t even introduced yourself and you’re already trying to recruit me into something you’ve given me no information on”, he rasped. The gnome’s eyes grew wide once again, this time at the perception of the stranger she underestimated.

“Hmph. You’re perceptive—I like you. I also think you’ll fit in just fine with the Zhentarim, kid”, she offered. “That’s who we are. By the way, I’m Jamna. I’m the person who’s gonna give you a better life. Now tell me about how you got here—literally here. And what’s your name, kid?”. “I…”, Shadow trailed off, unable and unwilling to share his story; this was his first taste of connection to another person, but he wasn’t yet able to place his full trust in this woman. “ … I’m Logan and… I don’t know. I just… walked here in the rain one night”, he admitted, only revealing bits of truth. He crafted and adopted a false identity for himself, one that he didn’t feel attached to, so he could abandon it at any moment; he felt similarly about his potential past life(ves) and current one. Jamna continued, “That’s fair, kid. But are you in or not?”.

Shadow’s face immediately responded with shock and fear at the ultimatum. He had only been alive for a few days, yet people were already seeking his aid. On the other hand, he was intrigued by her offer, and saw it as an opportunity to gain more insight into his existence. Finding the resolve needed to respond, Shadow proclaimed, “I’m in.”

THE BOY WITH THE CRESCENT MOON TATTOO: The Boy With the Crescent Moon Tattoo (A Shadow POV Short Story)

Vylet

“Suddenly I couldn't speak, it's like an angel walked into me”

“I lose my voice when I look at you, can’t find my voice, but I’m trying to”

Feb 6th 2022 @ 3:32am: boi literally exposed his burn scars during the double-date and all he got from her was an interrogation about Logan 😩🤌

Shadow isn’t sure where exactly he stands with Vylet; he knows he has romantic feelings for her, but this uncertainty is a cause of anxiety for him. He will do almost anything to protect Vylet and ensure her safety.

He first developed feelings for Vylet when they were fighting together in the Underdark and she used her Necrotic Shroud. Shadow was immediately drawn to her decaying, skeletal wings; for once, another being understood what it meant to have died, or have part of you die. He was drawn to her unconventional beauty, but was still wary of her.

They’ve recently shared many tender moments, including a kiss (uwu), but Shadow doesn’t know what his next steps with her should be. He displays love by actively protecting, yet Vylet is the first to charge into battle, with no regard for her personal safety; he feels useless in these scenarios. Further, she tends to erupt sporadically; he doesn’t want to always have to shoulder her anger.

She’s recently displayed more romantic behaviours, which makes Shadow rather nervous. He gets flustered because he doesn’t know how to respond to authentic love, or any kind, being shown towards him. He appreciates that she offered to let him read through Glasstaff’s spellbook (and also gave him a cool blue rock) because he honours/appreciates/puts knowledge on a pedestal.

They’ve recently shared their feelings for each other! Shadow wants to throw more of his love at Vylet, but he knows Lilian Carbin is likely watching him. He’s keeping his distance until he knows it’s safe to be physically affectionate with her again, and he hopes this doesn’t push her further away. During their time alone (when they shared their feelings for one another), Vylet had said that she’d go to the Mere of Dead Men with him, which broke Shadow in the best way possible. He had been tearing up prior, but immediately started crying when she told him this. Nobody had cared this much, or this deeply, about the Reborn until then.

After this conversation, and rescuing the prisoners from the Underdark, the pair had returned to the mine to retrieve The Mirror. Glasstaff’s dead body, along with Shadow’s dagger (stabbed in throat), fell out. Further, a shadowy figure spoke to them from The Mirror; it shattered afterwards. Seeing his arch nemesis again triggered deep-seated trauma for Shadow, to which he responded by repeatedly stabbing Glasstaff’s body. Though hyperfixated, he heard Vylet’s suggestion of burning the body; he repeatedly cast Greed Flame-Blade, severely burning himself in the process. During this event, Vylet used Glasstaff’s blood to write on the cave walls.

Once Shadow had come to, he soaked his arms in the pool of water he was next to, then vomited into the small body of water next to him. He questioned why Vylet didn’t stop him and an argument ensued. Wrapping one arm in his now-bloodsoaked hoodie (G’s blood), Shadow walked away in a mildly catatonic daze. The two shared some more choice words with each other as they arrived closer to the surface and Vylet’s necrotic wings unintentionally sprouted.

Shadow isn’t ready to forgive Vylet for hurting him, especially after she declined to be his girlfriend (though, admittedly, he asked at an inappropriate time). Now he’s angry with himself and Vylet; he allowed himself to give her Glasstaff’s glass staff: something extremely precious to him. At this point he’s considering ignoring her for the foreseeable future.

After spending some time apart while aiding Leilon in rebuilding efforts, and supporting each other through more battles, they’ve reconciled in Zephyros’ Tower. Shadow’s learned of the self-conscious side she’s developed as a result of her relationship with her family and now feels more love and empathy for Vylet. Learning more about her also gave Shadow enough bravery to open up a bit more about past experiences and people (mentioned Xavlith and their FWB relationship, plus how he killed Novus; apparently he had already shared the Novus story previously lol). Just before drifting into unconsciousness for the night in each other’s arms, they shared their true feelings for each other, and Shadow promised to eventually return the gold bracelet Vylet gave back to him (he bought it for her a while ago).

→ he's kind of done with feeling like her lapdog

→ he enjoys their time alone together, but he still feels that his love isn't being reciprocated

→ Vylet's general unpredictability is source of anxiety for Shadow (feelings for Xavlith are slowly resurfacing; he finds solace and comfort in Xav's predictability)

Caim

While Shadow knows he gets along with Caim, he also feels as though Caim is hiding something from the rest of the party.

Caim has shown him what it means to be well-rounded; someone who is capable of following what is generally considered “morally right”, as well as what is “morally wrong”. Having someone that can act as a guide for his conscience has been immensely helpful on his journey to figuratively navigating the world.

Shadow never feels judged by Caim, which is rather surprising, as he feels judged by literally everyone (whether they truly are or not). This is something he has only recently realized; the realization came after their encounter in Neverwinter. When in Neverwinter, Shadow learned of the racism Caim experienced. After that moment, it dawned on Shadow: people dislike my friend simply because he exists… he likely understands that I’ve been a victim of similar behaviour, as well.

Shadow has noticed that, while Caim has been a moral guide for him, he also has some questionable values and behaviours. For example, Caim still seems to side with Sildar (an alliteration lol). Shadow doesn’t appreciate this as Sildar had aggressively wedged his way into the group.

Though he doesn’t know much about Caim, he knows he’s a friend. Caim single-handedly rescued Shadow after the Underdark Incident with Vylet. Even as Shadow was screaming in terror from seeing the campfire on the surface, Caim managed to calm him down and carry him to a safe space. Further, the Tiefling went so far as to heal Shadow’s burns and let the Reborn sleep/meditate on his shoulder. For this, Shadow is eternally grateful.

After their battles at the Tower of Storms, Caim shared a bit of his backstory, which piqued Shadow’s interest. Not only did he have the opportunity to learn, but learn about his friend. Further, his respect for Caim has since doubled, as he agreed to considering attuning to the Eye of Dendallen, in exchange for Javelin of Lightning (found under Moesko’s altar).

Caim has since attuned to the Eye, an act Shadow deeply appreciates. Not only will Caim be able to see invisible enemies, but see Shadow when he casts Invisibility. The whole team was present for the gruesome and painful attunement process, but Shadow ensured that he was right next to Caim (I’m pretty sure Shadow actually held Caim’s Tiefling eye once Caim removed it).

→ Shadow would literally die for Caim

→ He only wants the best for the man that saved his life in the Underdark, as well as covered for him on multiple occasions

→ Will kill Narth if he so much as lays a finger on Caim; Shadow doesn't want him to hurt Caim

Lili’uokalani (Lily)

Shadow doesn’t understand Lily just yet and sees her as a bit of an enigma. He’s recently had a couple of opportunities to speak with her alone and feels as though he’s finally learning more about his new friend.

Recently, he’s connected with Lily on a deeper emotional level, something even he was surprised he was capable of doing. For someone who doesn’t like talking about feelings, Shadow opens up a lot around Lily. She tends to be really anxious, feeling as though she needs to shoulder everyone’s burdens, and be her version of perfect. Shadow wants her to see that he is actually inspired by her and is in awe of her magical abilities—especially Wildshaping!

Even though he gets himself, and the rest of the party, into trouble, she hasn’t given up on him. Shadow appreciates that there is someone he can rely on to literally have his back in battle, knowing that he’ll do the same for her.

Currently, they have a very neutral symbiotic relation that consists of them telling each other that they’re good people and healing each other in combat.

Shadow gave Lily a note that said “thank you for being a friend” on it; her reaction (smiling while reading and fixating on it) was enough to satisfy Shadow. Though he knows of the power his other 2 friends hold, he fears Lily’s the most, as she can take on terrifying beast forms. Her reaction was confirmation and validation that Lily doesn’t hate and wants to continue working alongside him.

The party has been helping restore Leilon after a Giant attack. After completing his patrol for the day, Shadow saw Lily walking by. This was the night of a full moon, meaning that his tattoo was glowing. After a long conversation in a tree, including him opening up about Xavlith and murdering his father, Lily opened up to him. He asked if Lily ever had to leave family behind (in Shadow’s case, the Zhents), to which she told him that her family left her. Shadow was shocked by this response, but is now even more curious about his friend. He respects and appreciates the wisdom that his Sea Elf companion brings and feels even closer to her.

Further, he came out as bisexual to her, and learned that she has romantic feelings for women, implied by her not responding to his question and answer (“what kinds of people do you like?”; “I like both guys and girls”), then visiting the Sun Elf.

Lily has consistently been a mentor, friend and shoulder to cry on. After the Underdark Incident, Shadow developed an intense pyrophobia. However, with Lily’s assistance, Shadow was able to cast Green Flame-Blade again; it sapped his strength to focus on casting, but he still accomplished what he believed to be the impossible. They now have the code words “Wela” and “Ae”, which mean “Heat” and “Yes” in Aquan; Shadow will shout “Wela”, while looking at Lily, when he wants to cast GFB, and Lily will look back (if possible) and respond with “Ae”. Knowing that someone is literally and figuratively looking out for Shadow reminds him he’s not alone in any fight, even one against himself.

Glasstaff

Feb 6th 2022 @ 3:40am: bruh, I've really gotta write about how Shadow was captured by this dick rag of a human (he totally wasn't a halfling or shifter back then haha)

Wants nothing more than to seek revenge by torturing him; also wants to avenge others hurt by Glasstaff. Through whatever means necessary, Shadow wants to extract as much information out of him as possible. He would love nothing more than to watch Glasstaff bleed dry in front of him, by his own hand.

Shadow technically killed Glasstaff, and felt good about it for a moment, until he realized what he had done. He felt so powerful taking the man’s life with his own staff, but seeing his friends’ reactions, and realizing that the build-up to this moment was over, broke him mentally. He went into a mildly catatonic state, lingering depression with him wherever he went.

Though disconnected from the world, he still slowly and quietly explored Glasstaff’s hideout room & ended up finding a Scroll of Remove Curse for Vylet (though he didn’t know what it was at the time).

After all survivors were accounted for, Shadow and Vylet returned to the Underdark to retrieve The Mirror. When they found The Mirror, Glasstaff’s dead body, complete with Shadow’s dagger, fell out. Shadow’s deep-seated trauma resurfaced at this sight and he began stabbing the corpse repeatedly. Being in a hyperfixated state he didn’t see or hear Vylet, but only made out her saying “burn”. He responded by casting Green Flame-Blade as he stabbed, severely burning himself in the process. Shadow still lives in shame, his scarred forearms serving as a reminder to learn to control his own mind.

Zephyros

Shadow has the utmost respect for Zephyros and considers him an ally. The Cloud Giant was transparent about information Shadow requested and has offered the group a safe place to rest. However, he is still weary of the Giant, as nobody the Reborn has met has ever been this friendly upon initially meeting.

MISC INFO (October 12/21)

Secretly a really skilled and talented traditional artist

Probably really good at breakdancing

Can dance other established dance styles (i.e Waltz & Foxtrot), but only because he's studied people & their movement, and is aware of how his own body movements

He lacks technique, but his overall form, rhythm and style are passable (established dance styles)

Will literally drop everything if offered a jam-filled biscuit (or anything with jam lmfao) or mint tea

Secretly misses Jamna… but only a little bit. Wants to send her a letter and visit when he can

Wants more tattoos, but is worried they'll become identifiers

Wants to make his Zhent tat invisible. He's scared of removing it completely, though he knows he shouldn't continue his Zhent involvement

Would spend literal days (and suffer a point/level of exhaustion) in a library, just to read and learn

God forbid someone introduce him to iced coffee because he'd probably get addicted lmao

Loves Vylet, but still has lingering feelings for Xavlith. He knows their relationship was purely superficial, but a part of Shadow feels that Xavlith will love him more deeply

Quite literally would rather cut off his toes than be forced to attend a Gala/dance/ritzy social event

Idk. He's bi, he's shy, he's hot. It's 4am. I just laughed bc a random song on Spotify came on and said "sex and the tiddies". I'm also tearing up bc my boi has so much Trauma™ (but also??? I gave that to him??)

I'm gonna sleep lol bye

#dndoc #dnd character #dnd #backstory

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macgyvertape · 1 year ago

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BG3 Act 3 thoughts and liveblog part 5

It wasn't intentional because I don't know and didn't research the DnD combat system but funny my character has wound up a bit like the Abhorsen in a loose sense, where the powers she uses the most are Bard music and necromancy.

Here's the part where I definitely noticed how little commentary my companions had about things or spoke during quests, and I hope that gets expanded on during the enhanced version.

Now that I have the ability to shrink characters, disguise the squad, create arcane gates, and Astarion can turn into a small ball of mist I went to go explore that drainpipe since I figured it was so out of the way it would reward exploration. I was right, cool underground area and I figure Astarion, Karlach, and Gale are the right squad for it (wish I had room in the party for Wyll especially as his dialouge in camp is now bugged).

The combat trial went smoothly by arrows to blast elementals into the chasms, but my character definitely laughed at being called “a paragon of justice”. Since Gale and Astarion won’t solve the chess puzzle, I’m glad killing the chess piece with an electric puzzle was a valid solution

At first I was like oh no the dragon is dead, then I’m like “oh shit The Emperor was Baldur”. There are things about combat I’m still not understanding well, but through lots of expensive scrolls and summoning lots of assistants I got the crash landing achievement

Taking the same group to do the hag quest since they fought Ethel before. Nice that Gale can just remove curse and dispel whatever the sheep hex was. Mayrina has the line “twice you’ve saved me, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel” which my character has to find hilarious considering all the murders

Of course my character was inspired by killing Ethel a second time, I figure my characters motivation was joy in killing Ethel again and stopping her from getting what she wanted by saving the child. Also as a show of skill leaving all of Ethel’s victims alive this time. I was surprised at how there weren’t any companion interjections during this quest

I rescued Volo and I think the game meant for me to rescue him hours ago since he’s talking about Bhaalspawn and somehow knows I am one

Love how fucking manipulative the Emperor is “I have no more secrets from you…. We are true allies now” lmao. Its fun how if you push him the slightest bit he goes full mask off. Wonder what different options there are if you ask him what learned, he say my character was “complex and full of contradictions”. I also played through the seduction scene before reloading and its so well done and manipulative.

My character definitely doesn’t trust the Emperor but isn’t going to burn that bridge just yet; as much as she uses seduction and is fine being seduced, the stakes are too high for her to do so here.

My character, Astarion, Halsin and Shadowheart walk right into Shar’s temple ready to slaughter everyone and walk out, which we did and my D!urge character of course killed Mother Superior after Shadowheart told my character to do what they like. I think it's a key aspect of my D!urge that the killings don’t stop even if she’s no longer technically The Dark Urge. Wonder if Bhaal’s chosen D!urge gets any fun lines about how while the Mother Superior was so worried about the Absolute she missed the plotting of Bhaalists and Baneists.

My character hates Shar for just the purposeless cruelty, and sees a mirror of what she went through with Bhaal in Shadowheart. Unlike the Nightsong my character didn’t pressure Shadowheart one way or another, let her make her own choice about her parents. I'm not sure if she defaults to a mercy killing in other playthroughs or if it's previous choice dependent.

My character’s one for trying up lose ends so they went back to Saverok and then killed him when he attacked.

Aww if you kiss Halsin in front of Astarion (like right near him) he says “Don’t mind me I’m just enjoying the show” and he does sound sincere. Kissing Astarion didn’t result in any commentary other than him genuinely saying he enjoyed it. Kissing Halsin again while Gale was right nearby, Gale chimed in with “It’s a wonderful feeling to care for someone so deeply. Treasure it”. I spent some time playing around with subbing Gale for other companions and no one had any response. Guess that means Gale isn’t a 3rd wheel but is part of this Astarion/D!Urge/Halsin relationship in every way but sexual.

Wasn’t expecting the very emotional moment where Astarion says he wants to try doing things like sex again in regards to the Drow orgy, but the narrator comments his face showed “no trace of joy”. Wanting to have sex that it turns out you don’t like or enjoy but you really wished it went well is something that’s really personally relatable, but I don’t see often in media. Just really wish Astarion had some dialogue about it afterwards. Also holy shit Halsin has some trauma, and a lot to unpack there about this is the circumstances surrounding when he divulges it and how he talks about it as “not so bad”. Does feel weird that the game doesn’t count Halsin as a love interest for the orgy, so you can’t just leave Astarion out of this encounter.

Jaheira has kids?! Funny to just walk into a random house and discover that. There’s no way my character isn’t gossiping about that later. I agree with Astarion that Jaheira is a terrible mother, not for keeping her family secret but only sending one vague message that made them think she was dead in what seems to be a repeated series of events.

Wish the devs would have allowed me to ask Halsin THE DRUID about this write of a timeless body.

Finally going after Minsc, but really I had a lot more fun having my character and Astarion rob every vault. Some really interesting stuff about and written by Gortash and some fun clothing in other vaults

Wow non lethal attack just don’t fucking work on ranged weapons, I had to look up how to save Minsc because it wasn’t obvious how to do it. I don’t like Minsc personally, and he and my character would have a party alignment conflict in an earlier game, but my character wants to make Karlach happy and she likes Jaheira and Minsc, so guess Minsc gets to live.

My character returned the money to the bank, well half of it after making the banker cover the rest. She doesnt need the full 10k but would can see the big picture it would be worse if Baldur’s Gate economy crumbled. I don't think there would be actual in game consequences but I have so much fucking gold

Now’s the time to run around the city and find the rest of the hidden sidequests and interactions. Like I just got one where Karlach finds an old friend

I found Gortash’s parents and that’s a fuckin fate worse than death, to be trapped in your own body being puppeted and the ending “come again soon” after the mental connection breaks really drives home the horror. I’m not going “oh poor sad villain backstory” for Gortash, but more ok dude does the revenge feel good to puppet your parents and make them say they love their son?!

Gortash’s parents sold him to a warlock/demons then he later sold Karlach to demons for power, cycles of abuse especially with his mother calling him “same as when he was a boy, hateful little wretch”. Karlach had some great dialogue “why you get fucked up you fuck up right back” and I think its really powerful Karlach suffered like she did and is so dedicated to helping people.

My character put Gortash’s parents out of their misery; multiple resons my character would think this is the correct course of action: in this case death would be a mercy, and it's both a way to deny Gortash his own revenge and get info from the parents’ corpses, and a gesture for whatever partnership her past self had with Gortash that his parents don’t get away consequence free after she kills him and destroys the Illithid brain

Love the CRPG style environmental story on the plague ship, classic cursed deals

Well well well if it isn’t the consequences of my actions with Ptaris aka the gith egg I took in Act 1. Really glad I’ve started using detect thoughts way more, hearing how he was abused until he snapped and that he’s truamatized. SURE WISH MY COMPANIONS HAD ANY SORT OF DIALOUGE OR REACTION TO THIS.

BG3 Act 3 thoughts and liveblog part 1

I couldn't stop comparing DOS2 act 3 and BG3 act 3, since act 3 is a bit underbaked in both games compared to the other acts, but wow BG3 just has so much more polish and content.

The prologue reveals my character is a Bhaalspawn, I feel like it's just so widely known at this point

Defining character moment for Astarion “the problem with what Cazador has done is he did it to me”. Since Asatarion really wants this she’d help him sacrifice his “siblings” what matters to her is that Astarion is safe, but she’s worried about the unknown details but is still planning as if its possible. The dialogue options of “a killer isn’t worthy of respect” is fucking laughable my character would never say that lmao.

When the narrator was saying you have a bunch of options what will you do, for my character it felt best to say “when the moment comes I’ll do what feels right”, since she's more of an opportunist

Ooof that fight with the gith was rough even on easy mode.

My character wanted The Emperor to prove he was the protector, but then tried to read his thoughts anyway. She’s also very grateful Lae’zeal wasn’t around when this happened considering Orpheus is real and a renegade mindflayer has him prisoner

Learning that the protection against the Absolute comes from Orpheus being trapped really puts a damper on my character’s plans to not get rid of the tadpole and associated powers. It's too dangerous to count on Orphues being imprisoned. Also the Emperor was a successful power player in Baldur’s Gate, so she’s more wary of his plans and agenda than the fact he is a mindflayer.

My character did turn down the Emperor’s offer to evolve her, sorry she just is too attached to how her body looks. She also thinks this is a line in the sand she’s not going to persuade her companions on, unlike the tadpole powers. (personally it's the fact that it messes up your teeth, huge personal squick). I guess had my character take on so many parasite powers it gave me a fucking 21 score roll to not evolve.

EDIT: the next day I got spoiled on the Emperor’s seduction scene and it’s friendly manners being all a front; real fucking surprise pikachu face moment for me. That my character who manipulates, lies, and seduces people might encounter someone who emotionally manipulates, lies and will seduce people. I didn’t fully trust it and thought it might have its own agenda, but still I was a little too trusting that there might have been some genuine emotion. Like DAMMIT I was rewatching Felix rvb scenes before I started the game and he has a line “Funny how an act of sacrifice like that [getting hurt] buys you so much trust”. Which is exactly what the Emperor did, where it knelt down and made a big show of how it trusts me not to hurt it and when it calls on us for that dramatic rescue that while genuine was an excellent opportunity for it to be revealed. Apparently the 21 roll is because I used so many tadpoles which the game treats as buying into The Emperor’s promises. Its repeated lines of “just like you” and “i’m on your side” to establish common ground and then presenting itself as a criminal with “a heart of gold” in its backstory. I/my character was skeptical on some details considering it also presented itself as a major power player, but bought into it’s use of “allies” when what he meant was “pawns”.

Gale had the comment “you’ve not taken this power for yourself… why offer it to me” and I wish I could respond like what Astarion said, that don’t want to sacrifice my body. Astarion had a whole lot to say on the subject but Karlach only had 1 line about being surprised I hadn’t taken the power/transformation. Funny to see how other companions had lines about how they hadn’t done any tadpole powers and they weren’t about to start now.

My character’s made an enemy out of the undead lich Gith queen, whom only Orpheus can oppose, and there’s an entire Gith resistance working to free him as well. So that really kills any plan of using the Absolute for herself because she’d be better off with Orphues fighting the Gith queen

Really Astarion and my character have come so far from act 1 where he was warning me about how easily Cazador could kill me to now where he’s saying if Cazador comes for him he’ll strike back and he’ll have my character along with him

The one group my character has been consistently nice to with no promise of reward is kids, so at this point she’s just resigned to them showing up at camp as long as there’s someone like Withers, Halsin, or Wyll to keep them from getting hurt.

My character is helping the strange ox yet again. It won’t reveal what it is but she’s really curious, and it hasn’t seemed to kill people, so she’ll help it because it might be a useful ally in the future

I love Biscotti what a GOOD DOG (love the animal writing in this and DOS2)

I think its funny that for a while I was thinking that Astarion wasn’t that pale, but in the bright light of Baldur’s Gate he really is. I think it's due to my monitor that has super high contrast

Surprised Halsin has the most dialogue in the refugee area mostly about how he’s rapidly becoming disillusioned with the city, and I tried a earlier save without him and the other companions like Astarion or Karlach don’t speak up if he’s not there.

Community meme about Gortash: I can excuse him being the chosen of an evil god and using his power to found a murderous evil cult but I draw the line at him and his PMC making surveliance cop robots. Bane is just the god of cops and Gortash works for Boston Dynamics

I like to think a bunch of the companions have been a positive force on my character so she’s helping the refugees in her own manner (lots of intimidation), and wants to see the Tiefling refugees make it after all the struggles. That there were explosives in toys justifies her being nosy and helping

Karlach really wants to go to the circus, unfortunately my character is a vicious murderer lmao. Thankfully she’s great at [persuading] and charming. Astarion, Halsin, and Karlach seem to be the best “go to the circus” group

Incredibly cool to hear my bard character perform along with the other bard in the circus

The dinosaur and the magic cat in the circus are being mistreated, Halsin is right to be mad about it. I used Astarion to pickpocket the key, then mage hand to open both cage doors

My character doesn’t like clowns and after she felt that murderous urge there’s no way she’s getting on stage. I watched the different versions of sending Halsin or Karlach up on stage but sending Astarion up on stage really is the best version. Role playing it as after he made that comment about clowns being a horror and with how both Karlach and Halsin approve of picking Astarion while he doesn’t approve if you pick someone else; its some light hearted group teasing of a guy who usually has a joke at others expense “You love the spotlight, don’t you… here’s your big chance”. Yeah he says he’s going to kill me but he’s not seriously upset.

Astarion and my character both enjoy killing clowns, see we’re great together

My bard character was pissed about the Djinn scamming with the spin the wheel game so of course she went back to rig things to get the jackpot.

Ok so my character gets her meteorites back, that she’s a Bhaalspawn, she’s not surrendering to the D!urge or worried about atoning, but that she’s being encouraged to slaughter her line and that its the woman who hurt her before is a opportunity for power and revenge coinciding nicely

For now the only person my character is telling is Astarion, this is a big thing to confess and she wants to play this close to the vest for as long as possible. While she did have earnest suspicions since the oubliette, she’s more afraid about standing up to a god and the loss of control. I personally like how Astarion comforts you after that dialogue a lot more, especially the way he says you must try to beat Bhaal and not become a slave.

#mac play video games #bg3 #baldur's gate #liveblog

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catalists · 3 years ago

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Chrome’s shadowgast fic rec list, vol 1

Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own obsession with wizards. I might make another one of these eventually if y’all keep churning out absolute bangers, but in the meantime, here is a list of my top Shadowgast fic recs.

One rule here: I’m limiting this to one fic per author--but many people on this list have a broader oeuvre you should definitely check out.

Your disclaimer: this is not a full literature review, but rather my personal favorites. Caveat lector!

* = fic is rated M or E

sleeping in the shadow of an other self by nonwal | @nonwal

Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls.

(In which Essek is resurrected by the Mighty Nein and framed for innocence.)

Okay, listen. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. There’s a reason it’s at the top of the list. 30k of absolutely phenomenal characterization of not only Shadowgast but all the M9 and the coolest plot to ever plot. Not only a fantastic first read, but a phenomenal re-read as well.

multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance by mousecookie | @ariadne-mouse

Caleb takes a step forward and stumbles. As he catches himself he realizes something very odd. His hands are shadowy and translucent. His whole body is a shadow, in fact. If he holds his palm up to the sky, he can see the stars twinkling faintly through it.

Sharp talons of panic dig into his chest. He feels solid - if he grabs his own wrist, he has mass, but it is wrong. Everything is wrong. What is happening?

Prepare Fireball, commands a voice in his head.

The voice is familiar.

It takes him a moment to realize it’s familiar because it’s his.

An absolutely fabulous pre-relationship fic, written before the end of the show but you wouldn’t know it from how perfectly it nails the dynamic. Ariadne has written a ton of other fabulous Shadowgast fics and I encourage you to read them all--I’m just limiting this list to one fic per author to try and cover more ground.

Great Minds by bluebirdsongs

Essek uses more high-level dunamancy in battle, and Caleb tries to reverse-engineer it when he can't sleep. AKA What if we were both wizards and I cast Tether Essence on us to save your life?

This is a gorgeous fic, both for how it handles Caleb and Essek’s conversation--with profound deftness--and for the treatment of magic-as-math. A beautiful exploration of both dunamancy and Caleb and Essek.

to make a cradle of your palm* by renquise

Essek offers Caleb his spellbook, open to the page of a new spell.

As Caleb suspected, his adaptation of Essek's gravity spell was different in its conception, for all that the result was the same. The architecture of this similar spell speaks of a different thought process, a different set of basic assumptions. It is beautifully engineered, efficient in its use of components and energy: a simple spell requiring only a length of silk thread and yet capable of reaching over a great distance and causing great damage, if applied with intent to harm.

“If you would like, you can, ah. You may—" Essek gestures at his own throat, a quick, inelegant spread of fingers. "Test the application of pressure that the spell exerts."

It takes Caleb a moment to register what Essek is proposing. He is a delicate speaker, as always.

Oh man, this one just goes for the jugular (ha) in the most perfect way. The prose here, like everything renquise writes, is absolutely masterful, and the tension between Caleb and Essek is exquisitely rendered.

fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you by kaeda | @the-kaedageist

Caleb caught Essek’s eye across the dome, and Essek returned his small smile. “It would seem that it is trickier than expected to keep things on a…private channel,” Essek thought at him.

“Unfortunately,” Caleb replied.

“Unfortunately for all of us,” Fjord interjected.

(Spoilers for campaign 2, episode 138)

Kate has a fabulous gift for getting the Mighty Nein’s voices exactly right, and this fic is no exception. This takes the hive mind/telepathy of the eyes to its hilarious, heart-warming, logical conclusion and it’s an absolute joy to read.

(perhaps i may) elaborate by demonstration* by marsastronomica | @marsastronomica

After the second fight, they rest again. There’s still time left in the day, and they may as well push as far as they can. Essek and Caleb find time between action to talk. And negotiate.

This one is an absolute banger. The flirting! The tension! The incredible intense game of chicken that Essek and Caleb are playing this whole fic...it’s amazing, you can hear the dialogue in their voices, this is another one that I read and then had to tell everyone about. And now I’m telling you about. Go read it, it kicks ass.

I’ve been lost before (and I’m lost again, I guess)* by toneofjoy

Caleb has plans to take down his old coaches. Essek has secrets. They climb rocks, make new friends, explore professional boundaries, learn about consequences, and maybe even fall in love. It’s the Shadowgast climbing AU.

AUs can be a tough sell for me, but this one’s not. Half the joy in this is the fabulously vivid world that is built by the author who absolutely knows the ins and outs of competitive climbing and expertly shares it with the reader. The other half is the beautiful growing relationship between Caleb and Essek, which is a consistent joy to read. It’s still a WIP, but I promise it’s worth reading along.

the other things that make us* by saturday_sky | @saturdaysky

Essek returns, when he can, to the sanctuary of Caleb's home. The peace of it is a balm against the tedious peril of the road, which has more misery to share than Essek had ever thought. It's nice to have a place where he can lose himself: in a book, in arcane study, in the confusing allure of Caleb's smile.

It's nice. And the cats miss him, Caleb says.

[First chapter is a complete story. Second chapter will be a follow-up epilogue to it.]

This one hurts in the best possible way. I can’t highlight my favorite bits without giving it away, but the emotional beats of this absolutely beautiful post-canon fic are top-notch and the reveal of information is perfectly executed.

darkness to me is only water to the sea by treeviality

Essek knows how his story ends. There is a place in Rexxentrum where executions are carried out, wooden steps leading up to a wooden platform. There hangs a noose, swaying lightly in northern wind, while polished cobblestones shine bright in golden light.

There will be birds, Essek imagines, and when the lever is pulled and gravity takes hold of him one last time, he hopes they take flight.

This now-AU take on Essek being arrested is lyrical and beautiful and the author has a tremendous grasp of language and also how to rip your heart straight out of your chest and then gently replace it.

---

And, if you’re still looking for fic, I have a few, but one of my favorites is:

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome

In the last fight with the Tombtakers, Essek Thelyss bends reality to keep them all alive and pays the price. As he copes with the aftereffects of his own magic and the party takes the long journey back to the surface, Essek and Caleb finally confront what they are to each other.

or,

Five times Essek woke up with level(s) of exhaustion and one time he didn't.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #cr fic #cr fic recs #fic recs #fic rec #cr

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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Pale Jester Chain 2

Prompt: PJ finds his way into Lemm’s shop and begins ruminating about all the different relics with surprising accuracy and knowledge (much to Lemm’s annoyance and confusion)

By @werewolforeos

Lemm was alone, as usual. He dusted off the king’s idols so the illustrious stone regained its shine. He froze as the door to his ‘shop’ creaked, and the bell jingled- please don’t be another caffeine-wanting bug, he thought, turning around to greet the customer.

The masked bug was taller than he was, though not by much- most of its height came from its horns, eight tall spikes resembling a crown. Yet despite this regal feature, it dressed in a fool’s clothes- Lemm could almost imagine the bells attached to the cape’s ends, which luckily were absent. And all its clothes shone with a deep crimson.

“How can I help you?” Lemm muttered, eyeing the stranger’s staff. “Oh, mind that shelf, would you?”

“Oh! A friendly face in these caverns! My, my! What an unexpected surprise!” The bug replied with a too-jolly attitude. Lemm decided he did not like this bug. “Why, I was merely exploring this city- it’s quite hectic outside, no?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Lemm replied. “My shop here is safe, at least. It’s quite calm up here. Have you seen those husks?”

“Yes, yes. Quite the sad fate they have been left with- blinded by those unsightly orange lumps, yet stuck in their daily rituals all the same.” The stranger brought up his hands to his face, in a mocking display of shock. “Oh, heavens! We have yet to introduce ourselves to each other!”

Lemm rolled his eyes. “Name’s Lemm. Don’t have much else to say on that matter, but what’s yours, stranger?”

“Ah- they call me Jester, back up there. You have a nice name, Lemm!” A shiver went up Lemm’s spine as Jester spoke his name- he ignored it, it’s probably just the breeze. “So, Lemm! What do you do up here? It’s quite the nice shop~!” said the Jester, picking up a wanderer’s journal.

“Ah- hands off, please. The knowledge stored on these antiques is priceless.” Lemm tapped Jester on the hands. “I buy these relics of this old kingdom, for the sake of history and preservation. I’ve got many journals to decipher- so if you don’t mind, unless you have any relics for me…?”

“Ah, no, I do not have anything you might be interested in. Though,” the Jester mused, “Perhaps I might be able to assist in deciphering the script? It seems familiar to me.”

Lemm scoffed. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell you what, if you can decipher a full journal, I might part with it once I’ve copied it down somewhere.” “That sounds like a challenge to me~! Challenge accepted, shopkeep.”

Lemm gave the Jester a journal he’d deciphered already, to test how well he knew the old script of Hallownest. Putting his finger to the script, the Jester seemed lost in thought, as though looking at an old memory. “This is a passage about those blue cocoons, is it not? They call it Lifeblood.” Lemm blinked.

“That is… correct. But, could you translate the whole passage? I’m curious as to what your skills are.”

“The swirling blue liquid relieves pain, but if too much is taken at once, the Lifeblood seems to take over. We must carefully ration the amount given to the hospitals. Signed… Lurien, the Watcher.”

...That was, way too fast. “Hmm. I’m not convinced. Another.” Lemm trades the journal in the Jester’s hands for another.

“The circus was in town today,” the Jester reads aloud, “and I got to see Marissa’s show! Her voice is so soothing- it reminds me of my dreams.” Lemm was silent. This is ridiculous.

“Hm? Did I make a mistake?”

“Oh, no. I was lost in thought about- these signs here,” Lemm lies. “I hadn’t yet translated this passage, and had not seen this combination written as one word yet.”

“Oh! You’re looking at ‘plague’ there, shopkeep.” Cogs whirred as Lemm processed this information- these journals talk about many things, how did this Jester decipher these so quickly? And does he know things Lemm does not?

“These icons next to each other- ‘sick’ and ‘many’. Many sick make a plague, no?”

“Yes, yes. That does make sense. And here…”

“That’s a shopping list,” the Jester waved it away. “Honeydew, boofly meat, it seems as though this one was quite rich. Though it’s not that important,” he claims, “as those letters from the Watcher you’ve got there seem much more interesting to me.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, everything he’s said has been correct. Even the ones I hadn’t yet gotten to. Just who is this bug, exactly?

The Jester strided over to Lemm’s undeciphered journals, focusing on a specific grouping. “I hereby request the addition of a chamber for Lexi, my butler, inside my Spire. He wishes to stay as he works, and…” Jester pauses as he grabs the next passage. “I believe it would be a good idea to have him with me as I prepare for slumber. Hm, a little fruity, aren’t we, Watcher?”

Lemm just stood there, dumbfounded. “Er. I. Okay.” This is a lot more information than I expected to get in five minutes. Ignoring him, the Jester continued to rummage through the relics, stumbling across a stray king’s idol.

“Hey! Those were ordered to date and time!”

“And now they are not. Is there any issue there? If it is, you can always order them again.”

Lemm definitely did not like this bug. “Excuse me? You waltz into my shop, damage my collection, and strut about like you own the place with your knowledge of the signs used in Hallownest’s prime. Who do you think you are?” “That is irrelevant. I do wonder… where did you find this statuette?”

“A wanderer comes by every so often with many relics, and cleans out my geo stash. I mean- that’s irrelevant. Why do you care?”

Holding the idol at an arm’s length, the Jester tilted his head, studying the way it was sculpted. “This one was found in the resting grounds. I can smell the lavender,” he muses. “I’m surprised they had one of these there- the moths didn’t take kindly to that King. I suppose that’s understandable, given what he did to them.”

“Moths?”

“Yes, yes. Quite a long time ago, they lived in the lands Hallownest was built upon. Did you never get an education?”

Lemm blinks. “Well, I had school, but-”

“Shopkeep, this is something all bugs used to know. Did they scrap it out of the history books? ...Of course he would, that King would do anything for validation. I’m sure the guilt is eating him up from the inside.”

“Jester. The king is dead. Has been for a while. Have you not seen the state of decay this kingdom is in?”

“Ah, no. That Wyrm is still alive somewhere- I’m sure of it.” The Jester moved back to the door, holding his staff in one hand, and journals in the other three. “I do wonder,” he muttered under his breath,”why are these so familiar? Ah, Lemm, was it? Would you mind if I took these outside?”

Before Lemm could express indignance, the door opened once more- standing in it a drenched wanderer, who often stopped by to supply Lemm with his many relics. The pale white mask they donned looked up at the crimson Jester, an unreadable expression behind it. The wanderer gripped the handle of their nail- sharpened, coiled, pure. They recognized the Jester, and they did not particularly like him, Lemm thought. At least Lemm wasn’t alone in disliking his clown schtick. That being said, the Jester still held some relics- if a fight broke out, they could get damaged. Lemm quietly pried open the hands of the Jester.

“Ohoho! We meet again, little one! Do tell me about your excursions down here, won’t you?” The Jester was met with silent scorn. The shop was rife with tension, though the Jester seemed oblivious to it.

“Er, pardon me, but mayhaps you two should take this… outside.”

The wanderer stared at the Jester for another moment, before breaking their gaze away, and briskly walking towards Lemm. They rummaged in their pockets, producing another pair of journals, a Hallownest seal, and an arcane egg. The Jester giggled, the wanderer quickly turning their head towards him, and then sprinting back into the endless rain of the City of Tears before Lemm could give the wanderer the geo they were due.

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By @couch-cat

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By @arandoskeleartist

(audio file working on being uploaded)

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By @uncurdled-bean-curd

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By @the-trans-anon

Lemm was going to have a stroke.

He’d been having a perfectly fine day going through his relics without any annoyances running around, when a strange bug he’d never seen before entered his shop. The bug didn’t seem to have any relics to share, saying he was just exploring, and had been about to leave when he noticed one of Lemm’s king idols.

“What’s that?” The bug asked, reaching for the idol.

Lemm quickly yanked it out of his reach, not thrilled with the idea of someone manhandling his relics. “It’s an idol of the Pale King. The King himself was rarely seen so the bugs of Hallownest worshiped these in his stead.”

“Lies!” Before he could blink, the bug had grabbed the idol and jumped back towards the door. He held the idol up above their head, admiring it.

“Clearly it’s a tiny statue of me! Can you not see the resemblance?” He asked, looking towards Lemm and pressing the idol against his mask, eyes alight with mirth.

Lemm was about to snap at the bug to give him back the idol for gods sake it’s a historical artifact not a toy- when he too started to notice the similarities between the idol and the strange bug. Both had similar horns rising up as a crown, though the bug’s horns were much more curved than the King’s, and their masks looked nearly identical save for the black lines running down the bug’s face. The main difference was their clothing, with most of the King’s imagery in white and the bug’s clothes in a bright, fiery red. The more he looked, the more clear their uncanny resemblance became.

“...Are you related to the Pale King?” Lemm asked, feeling a headache start to form.

The bug looked confused, then put down the idol. “ Ah no, I’m afraid I simply jest my friend. Though we have similar names, I have never heard of your “Pale King” before. Though I have to say,” He looked back at the idol “your king was quite the looker.”

“Wait, what do you mean you have similar names? What’s your name?!”

The bug looked about ready to answer, before he froze and looked up at the ceiling. “Ah, my apologies my friend. It appears the Master is in need of me.”

“The Master??!”

“May we meet again.” The strange bug bowed, and raced out of the shop.

“Wait! You can’t just say something like that and leave who does that!? Come back here!” Lemm ran after the bug, but he was nowhere to be found. “Shit.” He sighed, before deciding to look around for any sign of the bug. That bug had to have some kind of connection with the King, and like hell he was going to pass up a chance to get information about the reclusive Pale King. He needed to talk to that bug.

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By @lesiasmadness

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By @redcynder1234

Lemm angrily grumbled at the tiny hands that dragged him halfway across the kingdom. He had tried to fight the smaller vessel off back in the city of tears. When they had suddenly barged into his little relic shop, seeming urgent as he tried to drag the grumpy old bug out of his shop. Lemm had tried to wave them away, but the smaller bug had quite a lot of determination to show them something then and there, at least no husks dare tread in their path as they traveled. The infection may be gone for sure, but husks of former bugs sometimes still lingered around, it was nerve wracking for sure, but lemm was safe in his shop where he could get lost in his work for hours on end. However now with the little shadow dragging him out of the safety of his home, He was a little on edge.

Finally as it seemed the little ghost had dragged them to their location they pointed upwards. Looking up, lemm grumbled seeing an old rusty chain leading up an old well. “Absolutely not.” He growled out. Even as the small vessel flapped their monarch wings to start and climb the chain. Hearing his response however they stopped and looked down before pulling out something from their cloak. One hand on the chain they waved a king's idol in the air. “Yes you’ve been waving that thing at me through this entire journey! I still don’t understand why you’ve dragged me halfway across hallownest.” He barked angrily. If only the little vessel could speak. He assumed they couldn't speak a few visits back as they sold old trinkets at his shop but lemm never could be sure. It really felt like they were speaking sometimes.

The vessel seemed to wave and point it up desperately before disappearing up the well. “Ey! Little squirt! Come back here!” He barked up the shaft angrily. However when no shadow came to retrieve him he just grumbled angrily. “Stupid, familiar looking…” Lemm mumbled under his breath as he climbed up the chain. If his curiosity about what they wanted wasn't so persistent he would have turned straight back around and headed back to the city of tears. Plus, kings idols were a rare find and he wanted to get his hands on as many as he could.

As he scrambled over the ledge of the well, his old carapace not liking the climb in the slightest, he looked around. He remembered hearing about the town of dirtmouth. By its size alone lemm could tell the town must have been a lively and successful one before the infection's grip controlled and destroyed the place. It was sad, maybe to anyone other than lemm at the moment. Grumpy and tired he saw the cloaked vessel padding towards two pinky almost red tinted tents. “Little pest… just doing to leave me behind!” He barked angrily as he followed after the vessel. Nothing left to do this far into this journey but to follow the little gremlin. Plus, in case there were any more infected lingering about, he rather have another soul that could fight them off then be left to fend them off himself. He only knew how to work with small pliers and knives, not nails and needles.

The vessel seemed to be approaching a small crowd that had formed outside the tents. They had been there before the two entered town, but lemm could already tell from a distance they were all… scared? More weary if anything. As he got closer the little ghost had turned, waving the small king's idol wildly while pointing through the crowd. “Give me that.” He snapped while snatching the king's brand from their hands. “I swear if you really wanted to sell it to me you could have done it in the city of tears, instead of dragging me halfway across the kingdom!” He snapped angrily. Making sure it hadn’t been damaged he fetched a bag of geo from under his cloak and dropped it without even looking at the vessel. “You're lucky I'm not taking half of that for dragging me her- OW.” He barked when ghost suddenly yanked his beard. “I swear-“ he growled as he looked down, wavinging the vessel's hand away from his beard. However the vessel was glaring into his soul and pointing. Angrily he huffed and looked up, before his eyes widened. Huh? That was impossible!?!

Looking down at the idol in his hands he looked up. The normal silver cloak was gone, replaced with red jester clothes. His crown of thorns was bent in such a painful looking way it almost made lemm cringe at the thought; and yet as lemm held up the king's idol he could see the similarities. Far too close similarities to be a coincidence. However there was no way the king of hallownest was some low-life jester doing gags and tricks to please the normal class's eye. Especially to a dead kingdom. Yet thinking this could be the king's brother was almost laughable. The king was a wyrm if the small amount of text he deciphered was true. And wyrms were giant beasts that could kill anything in its path. Then who was this look-a-like in front of them? That must be why the vessel had dragged them here, they may be curious themselves but since lemm was such a history nut he would know more. Could have still told him that before dragging him here.

As the jester bowed and the small crowd nervously clapped. Seeming to be more doing it to please someone then actually liking the show. He paused as the jester disappeared back into the pink tents. He knew the vessel was still standing beside them, watching the relic keeper curiously. Lemm knew he shouldn't enter the tent and ask such a question, but so many questions could be solved about this kingdom if this stupid look-a-like statue was this strange jester. The pale king hidden right under everyone's noses. Yet it still felt wrong in some way but he couldn't figure out why.

Lemm didn't understand what caused him to head towards the menacing face-looking tents; but he headed inside their pink tinted curtains. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't the tent to be almost pitch black except for small lanterns hanging up around the place. He expected at least a little of the outside world's lights to cut through the fabric. Sure it wasn't bright already in dirtmouth, but the sheets had looked almost see through before, now they looked like solid walls keeping the relic keeper inside. A shiver ran down his back as he almost instantly regretted his decision. He was a relic seeker, not an explorer that went out and actually found the relics to study. However it was a bit too late to turn back now.

Walking down the hallway he saw another bug standing there. Playing a spooky tone upon the accordion in their hands. Lemm wished he could have just snuck around the bug but they noticed him before he got too close. “Mrmm… Sorry, but the master does not want visitors at the moment...” Lemm gulped softly. “Actually I am uh… here to see your jester I believe. I wanted to praise them for the wonderful show.” The lie came out of his mouth a bit smoother than he intended. Yet it seemed the other paused before nodding forward. “Mrmm… Continue then… but do not linger.” they simply stated. Lemm quickly nodded and passed by, making sure the king's idol was safely out of sight from the other bug's eyes. Once passed he calmed down a bit. The hallway led to a pretty large room, silken ropes hanging from just about everywhere above his head. Somewhere tied together, some were almost touching the ground. They were so long, but lemm had to admit it was a pretty sight. Something white suddenly appeared from above, it was the jester alright, carefully twisted around the silken fabric. Was he dancing? It kinda appeared like it. “H-hello?” lemm wasn't one for conversation but it felt a little awkward just watching the other. The other quickly looked down, a mask upon the other's face made the relic seeker shiver. However the others voice didn't sound nearly as threatening as he expected it to be. “Ah! Greetings down there, what brings you to the grimm kin’s tent.” He called down. Carefully sliding down the silken ropes to hang upside down in front of the relic seeker. Lemm nervously took a step back before stealing himself. “I wanted to ask you a question.” The jester tilted his head curiously. Carefully righting himself and wrapping his legs around the silken ropes to keep himself suspended in mid hair.

“Oh?” He hummed curiously “What question do you have for a little jester like me?” he spoke. Lemm gulped nervously before speaking. “Do… were… I….” how does he just ask someone if they were a king?! “Were you a king before?” He blurted out in her strange panic. The jester seemed to pause before bursting out laughing. Lemm huffed even if he knew how stupid that must of just sounded. “I’m serious!” He barked out, feeling a bit flustered. As the jester calmed he wiped a single tear that had formed in the mask's eye. “A funny joke for sure little bug, but there would be no way that I could be a king. I would probably put buzzsaws and little traps as far as the eye could see.” he snickered to himself as he joked, but lemm just huffed. “I am serious-” he barked again but the jester interrupted him “Then your answer is obviously no my small bug.” he chuckled “I could never be a king of something.” He chuckled. “Either way, I don't think you should be back here. If the master finds out you're here he may be quite mad.” The pale jester said with another chuckle. Lemm huffed angrily. “You look like the ruler that used to rule here--” “--That's enough.” the jester spoke with a huff. “I understand a joke but pushing it makes it unfunny.” the other huffed.

Lemm growled. “I’m not joking! I already said that.” he barked “You look like the king of his land, look-!” He held up the king idol that he had hidden in his cloak. The jester paused. If lemm continued to speak he didn't hear it, He focused on the idol in there hand. It made the jester feel strange, like there was something scratching at the back of their head but just couldn't figure out what was causing it. Like a memory long compressed and lost to time. Maybe it was better that they were suppressed but…. Flashes of memories went through his head. Bright white images with blurred faces. Hissing he took a step back before his head cleaned and something warm brushed his shoulder. Looking up he noticed grimm standing over him, his eyes seemed kind and light hearted but the jester could sense the small bit of anger in them.

The jester watched Grimm calmly lead the other outside the tents. Their words didn't fully register to him however as the two left. The strange symbol still was imprinted in his mind but the memories that had come along with them were gone. Strange, but it may be better for such things to stay hidden in his memory, but the jester was still curious. When grimm appeared beside him again through a burst of red smoke he seemed calm, but his red eyes shined in worry. “Ah yes I'm ok.” he chuckled nervously. “Just got a bit of a headache.” he said “What a strange bug.” he spoke, looking towards the entrance to the tent. Grimm only softly hummed “Indeed… Come, we have plenty still to do while we're here.” The jester paused before nodding, following grimm back into the tent.

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By @darkautodraws

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By @daikoski

The Pale Jester always had a knack for dancing.

—Or perhaps, certain kinds of it.

He’d discovered one time when indulging on a slower song from Brumm, that he had a knack for ballroom dancing of all things! But such a thing isn’t commonplace for his kind of performance, no, he much prefers storytelling accompanied with a fun little jig of sorts. Ballroom dancing—especially with the audience he tends to have—seems to be something a little too formal and delicate.

Which is why he finds himself taking on the endeavor of trusting seemingly delicate, flowing silks with the entirety of himself. Ahh, yes, that of aerial dancing! He notes them as seemingly delicate, as they’re more than capable of securing far more weight than originally thought, but also... he’s very sharp.

—Of course, he’s not so clumsy now to go and let his claws tear straight through the silk now, nor would he allow the plates of his body to catch on it either. Not like that one time, when he had first been trying to pitch the choreography to this performance...

Now that had been something. The clicking tear of threads being pulled apart and the swoop of his stomach as he plummeted before quickly catching himself with his tail, something of a boisterous, abrupt laugh escaping him.

“You’re not trying to escape from a web, are you? Try not to cut yourself down little Fool!” Divine had jeered affectionately, and he could have easily preened from the spark of laughter that ignited the rest of the Troupe before lowering himself.

(... he also most certainly tries to pad the sharp ridges of his body a little more ever since that incident, but that’s besides the point.)

Ah, but that’s beside the point. Such a joyous thing it is, to inspire such a reaction in others, even if it’s from a

slipup like that. Perhaps it’s even better when it is. (Aer all, the Jester in fact would like to think he uses his foolishness to endear

himself to others, not dolt around.)

The tent is empty as of now, though that’s no concern. The Grimmkin will flood the audience the moment he does so much as enter the stage—no, he’s searching for the more unfamiliar-yet-not guests to come in, if at all. Perhaps the little wanderer, the shadow? Or maybe even one of the town folks bold enough to come by? Oh, or the princess warrior! Though her kind are truly experts in silk, and he finds himself unsure of how she’ll take his performance. (It is due to her influence that he felt himself particularly inclined to this song and dance aer all.)

Ah, he should probably do some last checks on the rigging, make sure they’re steady and all that. That, and check on his costume, too.

“C’mon Jester, don’t tell me your talons are going all stiff on ya!” comes the snicker of a Grimmkin trying to goad him on, and he laughs, before launching into a sprightly comical bow, tail flicking. Actually, he feels as nimble as possible, thank you very much!

“Of course not, dear friend! I’m simply waiting to greet our beloved guests—” and speak and she will come, the familiar rubied-red cloak catches his eye, and he immediately pats and dismisses the ‘kin to greet the spider. “And here one comes now!”

“Hello, hello! Welcome, Little Hornet—” there’s a bit of distaste that shines through her expression at his thoughtless nickname, and he would reel it in had he not

already said it, instead opting to tuck the information away for next time, “—you’re just in time for this next performance! Sit down, sit down, make yourself comfortable!”

She’s ushered to her seat, which is something on the front rows amongst the many grimmkin. Idly he notes that neither of her siblings are attending, though he has no complaints.

This one’s less of a personal performance and more for all the Troupe to see, so he won’t be able to converse with her until aer. She comes here most oen to ask questions, aer all. A no-nonsense type of bug she is, and it’s only customary he’ll allow such aer a performance, and she seems to know the same. Nonetheless, he bites back a bark of amusement at the way she glowers at the chatty Grimmkin, a little bit crowded as it is.

Lights snap on, beaming bright and warm, and the show begins.

Distantly, he can hear the beginning notes of Brumm’s accordion, and ah, what a perfect guide he always is! The familiar haunting call sends a thrill through the Jester, and it’s with that he begins his performance.

He wonders briefly if aerial silk dancing has ever been seen within Hallownest. Perhaps so, perhaps not; he only learned due to the Troupe aer all, and Grimm hadn’t really shared where he had learned such an art either...

The whisper of silk that he coils around his hand is taut, strong and secure the more he loops it. It’s with quick, tight motions and a graceful swoop that he suspends himself right upside down, sharp mandibles pulling back into a pleased smile from behind his mask. That was a satisfying maneuver.

There’s a split second of concern regarding his costume—the fabric of his wings just do not seem to be cooperating this time around, but alas, it simply feels right to have them there!

The more he spends within the air, the more inclined, the more fond he becomes in fitting such an image. It feels even better when the silks are pulled and he’s practically in arms reach to the ceiling.

Though the Jester isn’t quite sure how to describe it; a certain kind of fun exhilaration, a familiar twinge in his chest at being lied to such a height—he’d first noticed it through the use of mere ropes and cranks, to trapezing and other such elevated storytelling (Ha! Perhaps if he finds more joyous stories to share, he could workshop that into a joke to tell Hornet...) to now dancing with aerial silks.

He lets himself be guided and pulled along, to sway and twirl with the call of the music and the warmth of the Heart with practiced ease and elegance. But of course; he’s more than prepared for this, and with each swoop and dip his smile widens more and more.

When the curtains close and all the Grimmkin have seen fit to disappear off to do whatever it is their hearts desire, the Jester remains lingering on the stage. To clean up mainly, but it is to keep a keen eye on the nimble princess as well. He watches as she simply hops up and makes her way down towards him, and he perks up in attention.

There’s some attempt at niceties, just polite, pleasant conversation on his part, to which she kind of shuts down aer a moment.

“Why the new performance?” Ahh, so some curiosity was piqued!

The Jester hums thoughtfully, letting the silks hold his weight up as he rocks too far back on his legs. It brushes whisper-so against him.

“Perhaps for no specific reason in particular, other than to further expand my capabilities as a jester!” He somewhat not-answers.

She doesn’t respond, instead opting to give him a very narrow eyed look, suspicion and more, and he feels compelled to continue.

“Well, perhaps not nothing. Hypothetically... if this old soul noticed a certain spiderling’s interest in acrobatics—and this is hypothetical, of course!” Hands up in the air as if in surrender yet jestful, he laughs, “and wished to, say, partake in something similar in an attempt to perhaps bond with her...?”

A pause and a beat. “Had it been to your liking, young one?”

He lets the words linger in the air, before dropping his hands down to tug at the silks once more. He wishes to be honest, so even though he feels... uncertain, telling her that, he doesn’t regret it.

Hornet’s expression does... something. It’s tiny—miniscule, even, and perhaps had it been anyone else but him, that faint little tell might have gone unseen. but he does see it, and he recognizes it quickly as some sort of conflicted emotion, a tension that he’s brought upon her.

It seems she very much teeters on something colder, fists gripping at the edge of her cloak before she almost quietly ekes out, “It had been fine.”

The Jester brightens up—why, from such a grumpy young princess like her, that could very well be the highest praise!

...Though it’s best he does not push further, nor goad her on either. Enjoyable their dances can be (with such strong, violent intent from her too!) he’s already finished his own performance, and she’s certainly due to rest sometime soon, nor would he want to upset her more in the first place.

And much to his surprise, she continues, “Such as... that part when you had dropped suddenly... I thought you were certain to fall and crack your mask in half.” Something of a surprised chuckle is pulled from him, and he hums. “Where you were supported by only one silk. It looked... dire.”

It’s vague enough that he can’t really pinpoint what part of the act she was talking about, but it brings forth words to his tongue, but just which ones?

Yes, just what was that phrase... right!

“That part! I was practically hanging by a thread, was I not?”

(So, he hadn’t been able to workshop that ‘elevated’ joke in time... but such is the way!)

By the Heart... he could consider this another job well-done, couldn’t he? No snapping, harsh remarks on the little spiderlings end, no such invasive shenanigans from any of the other grimmkin—the mischief they could get up to!

“It most certainly felt as though I had been too. These silks simply do not part when you want them to! I very nearly cocooned myself at one point!” He muses. A quick

recovery he always is, but it is still such a wrenching moment when there’s even the slightest miss of a cue.

“Tell me, I’ve never had the honour to learn or witness the art of silk in action. I can consider my act something akin to it, though it’s quite incomparable to that of a spider, and I find myself curious! Are there ever such... shenanigans like that?”

Perhaps it’s his curiosity as a now-performer, to find enjoyment in the silliness and mistakes along the way; a perfect performance starts from somewhere aer all, and he finds himself wishing to know more. Hornet probably knows what he’s doing—making good use of that ‘bonding attempt’ that he so mentioned earlier, and...

Is it in poor taste to joke around like this? She is one of the few weavers le... he wonders oandedly, when Hornet lets out something that sounds like a scoff-laugh.

“You would be surprised. Although we in particular favoured silk to be used in tapestries and story keeping rather than dance, it wouldn’t be... uncommon for a mishap to happen in a more verbose storytelling. Such as a silk shroud meant to mimic the silhouette of a corpse creeper ending up on the audience rather than the speaker themself...”

She does not specify if the one accidentally tossing a silken hunter on their audience is her, from her early days of practicing weaving, or anyone else... but she does look a little more relaxed, even if by a pinch. (And if he looked ever closer, maybe even a little embarrassed? It’s tiny, and far off, but maybe...)

(For some reason, he has a feeling he would have been too. Just a little bit.)

Hornet is about to speak more, unprompted (much to his delight), when she halts. One beat, two beats, and then looks at him.

“...you’ve never learned?” It's a small enough question that he nearly misses it. So like a whisper, edged with a sharp venomous hiss, and when the Jester is able to recollect himself from the sudden shock, he’s tuned back in only to see her cold regard and the turn of her back, needle gripped tighter, for she never goes anywhere without it.

“So now you’re curious.”

...Pardon?

He doesn’t give the reaction she wants, if the (hurt? angry?) scoff she gives at his bewilderment is not enough of a tell, then it’s the way she rolls her eyes before looking askance.

“...I will be taking my leave now.” She mutters something more about ‘he never learned about the weavers’ ... ‘not even of their culture?’ but the last bits of it are lost as she disappears from sight completely.

...

That... had not gone well? Or did it? It most certainly feels as though it did, but now their conversation has been cut short without him being able to give so much as a farewell. But he lets her leave. Not that he would stop her, especially knowing she’ll stop by sometime again, but he simply... watches.

She had been upset, in the beginning, and then the end. Upset at him. (Isn’t the first time.) (That’s one, aching pain in his chest today.)

...

The curtains have fallen, and as of now it’s time he recuperates for the next performance.

...That, or dust off that lantern of his to go and gather more flames for the Heart. The Troupe Master had allowed him to forgo such responsibilities in favour of honing his aerial dance aer all. Even with permission, he can feel the faint call of the flames, the flicker-spark as they burn deep within the depths of this poor, dilapidated kingdom.

(Or is it the call of the Heart pulling him away from his encounter with Hornet?)

(The enthralling change in attention is enough to jarr him just a little bit out of his thoughts, though he’s unsure if that’s what he wants or not. Distraction or focus?)

Deliberately, he redirects his thoughts to the spiderling, to their interactions.

...As a whole, it seems today has le him with very different emotions.

She had been testy at first, as always, but it seemed like he managed to converse pleasantly for her, even for just an exchange. And then she’s up and gone in not a moment later.

...There was an uncertain edge to her, when he had told her of his reasons for practicing such dance. The faintest scrunch of her fangs, as if trapped between pulling back into a snarling hiss or an uncertain smile. Or that if she did feel hostile, it was as though she was in polite company and couldn’t afford to be as such.

(And he knows very well that she does not quite see him as polite company, so why does she refrain as such other than habit?)

She was never one to hide her distaste towards him, but that had been something... different. What, he isn’t sure, but... odd, for such a small detail to stick out to him like that.

Ah, haha! But of course he recognized such a tell, not when he has the exact same quirk! Conflicted between strict decorum and honesty, where he’d much rather be honest and forthright than needlessly tense, as he’s so oen teased by his beloved—!

—His... beloved? No name follows that, and although it would be a complete term of endearment

as is, it doesn’t... feel complete. His beloved... one who knows him, knows his face despite the mask upon it

now...? His...

...Odd.

(...Here’s another chest pang.)

There’s a harsh little wheeze of a sour note, and the Jester perks up to see Brumm approaching, fiddling with the instrument before kicking into a slower, soer melody. He hadn’t realized he'd been standing there still, center of the stage, still with hands entangled in the silks, still very much not cleaning up or resting.

“Hello there, friend!” He greets, receiving only a nod in response and a curious look.

“Mrmm... Did something happen? Had it not gone well?” Straight to the point as always, too...

“I...” he falters, and for a second he feels terribly improper for such an obvious display of weakness, before continuing, “I do believe it couldn’t have gone any better!”

And it’s true! There isn’t much in his opinion that could be improved other than the few minute details, but of course, he is always striving to grow! Simply, everything had felt so right, he has no current complaints for himself!

Which is why... how odd it is that he feels so... down. This is by far one of his best performances yet, but that encounter with Hornet... it leaves him feeling tense. She had, while not the main reason he wished to learn such a dance, had been an influential part of it at least...

Because he cares for her like a... like a daughter. (Though that feels a touch too much, considering the fact she is the princess-protector of this fallen kingdom, and how terrible it is that she is to bear the responsibilities of the once so revered king...)

...So maybe a niece instead?

(Perhaps niece would work better—he can’t go and become too fond of the come and goers who eventually leave, just as how the Troupe will part from these ruins eventually too. But alongside that, there was an amusing term he had learned a few kingdoms back from a grub who had claimed him as their... ‘cool uncle’ in feeling!)

(Truthfully, he had never really learned the semantics of family lines like that—never needed to anyways. Taking up the mantle as a Jester of no-one but the

Troupe leaves him snapping up little bits of information from the many different places they’ve visited.)

(And here he is, subconsciously trying to claim a familial title for himself when he’s the last person someone would want as family.)

...

“I had believed perhaps this would be a more successful performance than my usual song and dance.” he admits, jovial tone a little lacking, far less overplayed than it usually is.

“Though I haven’t the faintest idea why... I thought perhaps it would make her happier that I do something she could potentially partake in. Aer all, I had never........”

Sharp words echo in his mind. ‘You've never?’

..........He had never what? The same phrase worms itself way into his mind again, this time from his own tongue. The things he has never done, but... what? Why is it that he feels inclined, feels like he needs, with all of his foolish heart, to make up for something he isn't aware of? Of strings le undone, of time he had owed but had never given...

There’s something tugging at him faintly, trying to unmoor itself from the deepest parts of his mind yet shrouded in the familiar, now comforting mist of blazing warmth and flame. He tries to prod at the thought a little further, before the feeling escapes him.

(Or perhaps the flame that so carefully protects his mind, so caringly had swept it up, crisping it with its bright beauty and letting it smolder into ashes so that these vague thoughts may no longer cling to him.)

He had never......

......Well, he’s never done many things! What he does now though is what’s more important than ever, and if he so desires to try and chip at all the ‘nevers’, what better way to do it than travelling with the dear Troupe?

Unconsciously, he tugs at the hanging silks. Something to fiddle with if anything.

(His head feels foggy again, chest tight. That’s three aching pains today. Or more? He can’t tell.)

Then there’s the low voice of his dear friend, and the Jester tunes into what Brumm is saying. “...Have you shown Master your new performance?” He doesn’t see, or rather, he can’t see the solemn looks of the musician, can only hear the little ‘hrmm...’ that vibrates from his voicebox.

The song he’s playing comes to an end, and he draws the last note out, long and mournful.

“Ah, but of course. Though I must say I haven’t performed it for him officially other than in practice—it would do me well to hone my skills further! You don't suppose he's free currently?” Brumm is offering a distraction, he’s aware, but nonetheless, he wouldn’t turn down a moment with the Troupe Master when he’s been nothing but kind during pain days like this.

“He should be. I shall inform him then.” He inclines his head. “...Take care.”

Brumm bids him a gentle farewell, soon disappearing into the depths of the tent and leaving the Jester to his thoughts.

So.

...Thrice. Thrice, that those aching pains have visited him within this same hour, and he frowns. Thrice, and he doesn’t have an inkling as to how and where they could have come and gone, nothing but a lingering phantom sensation in his chest.

(He had talked about it with Brumm one time, when they were both musing over the ambiguity of their characters; life before the Troupe, faded and gone, just as with everyone else. Life with the Troupe, all that they’ve known, but a satisfactory life it is.)

Where little weird memory aches aren’t impossible, or even uncommon, but are well taken care of. Soothed even, by the Heart.

Ah yes, the Heart. It’s taken the entire Troupe under its care, hasn’t it? They’re all here with the gied masks that brands them as one with the Heart, they’re here for a reason.

And the comfort that so fills him is something overwhelming, bright and unrelenting, such is the way of a flame within the dark. It washes over the last of the tugging memory pains, and he lets it. Lets it singe and smolder, lets it drape its curtain of red over his mind, so that the ache in his chest will disappear.

All of the lingering worries, all the doubts are held alo by a bare thread— —and the Heart snips through it with ease, and the Fool is at peace.

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

By @cloudcryptid

#hollowknight #hollow knight #palejesterau #telephoneknight #the pale king #lemm #ghost #hornet

140 notes · View notes

vore-scientist · 3 years ago

Text

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw safe vore)

[M/nb vore with fearplay. safe soft oral non-sexual]

A tale of the Mystic Woods! Featuring Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story of bad first impressions and making new friends! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warning: Careful there are references to Fa.tal! An example would be “ogres are far more likely to eat smallfolk than giants!” (implying that said actions are deadly). That is the extent of such references!

Other warning: mild harm during the immediate post-vore scene. Yonah just goes a little too far in scaring Myran.

——/——////——

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew, they were in the giant's fist… AND THEN IN ITS MOUTH! There was a brief moment where they thought the giant was going to bite them in half… but no. Worse than that, the giant fulfilled his promise to make a meal of Myran by swallowing them whole.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

First, they tried to stop the giant from swallowing. But the teeth threatened to crunch their limbs if they dared to try and find purchase! So, failing that, they tried to slow their progress down his esophagus.

The problem was the walls were too damn slippery! They knew that their slow progress was merely due to the tight fit, as they couldn’t stretch out. The flesh was too tough.

Right before they started to worry about suffocating, they were deposited into a large chamber, sliding into a puddle of nasty smelling fluid. They took a regretful breath of the rancid air.

Yonah sighed as the dwarf left his throat and settled into his stomach. Small yet still filling.

He patted his stomach lightly. “A bit disappointing. Dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining.” His prey thrashed and yelled but didn’t seem to be coherent.

YEOWCH!

Something bit his hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against, crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his snack, Yonah investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically, he could eat anyone he wanted, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. Such self exploration would take time, time the person he ate didn’t have.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at them. They didn’t like that.

“Let me out!!”

So Yonah spat them up, sooner than he would have liked to, and leaned over them with a frown and glowing eyes.

The moment the witch hit the desk, the cat woke up and was between him and the witch as it hissed.

The witch was shaking and coughing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple.

“Good,” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red as his eyes glowed bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I eat you for real!” He flicked the broom at them. “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will.”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d eaten them without a second thought! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant, but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked it, saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water, but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in, a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d eaten the one who brought it. He chased them away!

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant. “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at Yonah, who glared back.

“How largefolk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of largefolk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

“Oh?” Yonah said. Of course, it made sense. He chased them out. Why would he then try to find them again?

“You bit me!” Myran reminded him harshly. “You broke my hand, and you said if you saw me again, you would eat me. Again. And kill me.”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say. “I did… didn’t I?” He looked down at his feet.

Myran. sighed. “Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So... What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” They raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief. “I want to apologize. For what I said… What I did. After I ate you. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

“And for eating me?”

“Huh?” Yonah was thoroughly confused.

“You’re sorry for what happened after you ate me, but what about eating me?”

Yonah bit his lip, “I’m… I’m not sorry about that.”

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts.

“I’m supposed to eat people! Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… And I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of death! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Did he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I’ve eaten at all. And I dont… I haven’t yet… killed anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers… but what I meant was you’re lucky that you even get to eat people. Most giants like the taste of smallfolk but they don't actually eat them. It’s rather rare.”

“You said it yourself. Evil Giants eat people,” Yonah pointed out. “Which I am one. I guess it’s… nice that I get to eat folks. But it comes with a cost… It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims, right?” Myran asked.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your more merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just a clear conscience in continuing to let his snacks go.

“Cracked some sort of code then?” Myran inquired. “Getting to eat people without attracting too much attention? Not that this would stop all slayers,” they added. “I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah nodded, sniffed, and wiped his nose. In that case… Guess he was lucky. Indeed, he’d gotten to taste plenty of smallfolk. Plenty of giants did. It was unique that he’d had his human dad while growing up. But all of the smallfolk in the village knew that when giants kissed their hands, the giants were getting little tastes. Sometimes giants would lick a friend playfully or freak someone out. He’d had a few elvish and human friends growing up, and they sometimes let him and the other giant kids lick them during games of Jacks and Giants. And his academy friends were quite amused by his affections. He very much missed them. It had not taken long for him to get used to living amongst human friends, not just because he got to taste them. And so quickly, that was taken away from him. Friends…

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. Should he keep talking? Shit, how much of that had he said out loud!? The words continued to come out regardless.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me again.”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED MY STORY!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

big thanks to my amazing editors @j0hnnymouse and @vixen525

#safe vore #soft vore #gt vore #g/t vore #extreme cuddling #nonfatal vore

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gt-adventures · 3 years ago

Text

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw GT story!)

A tale of the Mystic Woods

Featuring the “Evil” Giant Wizard Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story about bad first impressions and the start of new friendships! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warnings: intense fearplay and mild harm involving an intimidation tactic with biting (no loss of limbs!). Yonah is a Fee Fi Fo Fum kind of “Evil” giant but it’s all an act. He’s just very convincing. And in this story he is still new to his Evil job. Also casual mentions of man-eating monsters/giants (no scenes).

For more detailed warnings go to THIS POST

---

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew they were in the giant's fist.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

They tried to get themselves free of the giant’s grip but like the giant said, it was useless to fight. Then the giant LICKED THEM IN THE FACE. Ugh it was so gross!! They sputtered.

Yonah sighed and pulled the dwarf away from his face just a bit. “It is rather disappointing, dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining”

He briefly loosened his grip and Myran took their chance to get an arm free. Big mistake. The giant hissed and caught the arm between his fangs!

YEOWCH!

Their arm was free but the giant still held them. Myran was barely paying attention, for the screams of the giant rattling their brain and the giants grip had intensified making it hard to breath.

Something bit his other hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against. And crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his foe he investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically he was a villain to anyone, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. But now was not really the time for self exploration.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at their face. They didn’t like that.

“Let me go!”

The witch was shaking and wheezing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes. Yonah loosened his grip to allow them to breathe properly.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“Stop! Stop! I won't tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple. The cat instantly got up and ran to his witch. Alternating between purring and hissing.

“Good” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red, as his eyes glowed a bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I decide to actually eat youl!” He flicked the broom at them “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will”

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d traumatized them without a second thought! Stupid stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked off the powdered fungus before saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

As he scooped it back in a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d terrorized the one who brought it. He chased them away!

With a thump he sat on his desk, looking around him, trying to imagine what this experience had been from the witch’s perspective. Tried to imagine what it would be like to have a snarling giant loom over you and snatch you up, when all you wanted to do was say hello...

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant, “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at, Yonah who glared back.

“How large folk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of large folk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

“I need a recipe!” he said.

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

They leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms.

“Oh?” Yonah said, of course it made sense, he threatened them, bitten them, chased them out, why would he then try to find them again.

“You bit me! You broke my hand! And You said if you saw me again you would eat me!”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say “I did… didn’t I.” He looked down at his feet.

They sighed.

“Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So- What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” they raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief.

“I want to apologize. For chasing you away like that. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you, you weren't an adventurer. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts. “Youre sorry for chasing me away!? You threatened to eat me!”

“It’s my job! It’s my job to terrorize people, Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… and I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of more conventional imprisonment! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Didn’t he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I've faced as my er… villainous self. And I haven’t… I dont plan on... eating anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers…”

“You said it yourself, Evil Giants eat people…” Yonah pointed out, “But it comes with a cost… I am worried… even if I don't... It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims. Right?” they asked more directly.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just his own conscience to continue to let his victims go.

“Cracked some sort of code then? Getting to be a villain without attracting too much attention?” Then they added “Not that this would stop all slayers. I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah wasn’t really listening to Myran any longer. There were other things on his mind. Things he had spent the entire walk over here mulling over, and he had to voice them sooner rather than later.

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away.

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

“Just don’t eat me!”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

[THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REBLOG/GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I CRAVE IT!]

Big thanks to my editors @j0hnnymouse and @vixen525

#gianttiny #g/t writing #g/t fearplay #g/t fluff #g/t fiction #g/t #g/t angst #giant/tiny

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eastofthemoon · 3 years ago

Text

Feathered Friends

A silly one shot that wouldn’t leave my head.

Archive of Our Own

Rating: G

Series: The Owl House/Ducktales 2017

Summary: Luz tries something to get her back to the human realm, unfortunately the human part wasn't present.

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Luz rubbed her hands eagerly as she looked over the handheld mirror. “Alright, mysterious device of arcane mystery, let’s see if you can bring me back to the human realm!’

“Are you sure you want to do this, kiddo?” Eda asked as she crossed her arm. “We know even less about this thing than your last portal attempt.”

“But the inscription says it leads to another world when you twist the handle,” Luz said as she clasped her hands.

“Doesn’t mean it’s the human realm,” Eda added. “There are plenty of bizarre worlds out there. For all we know this thing's connected to a world of man eating toe bats or something.”

“Where did you two find this outrageous ornament anyway?” King said as he poked the mirror.

“<i>We</i> didn’t,” Eda said with a deep sigh, shoving King’s paw away. “Hooty coughed it up and apparently doesn’t even remember where he picked it up. Not that he remembers much to begin with.”

King grimaced. “Yuck, he really needs to be more aware of what he eats.”

“Anyway,” Luz continued as she put her hands on her hips, “it’s still worth trying. Worst case it should lead back here, right?”

Eda sighed as she ruffled her hair. “All right, but I’m coming with you. King, how about you? Up for a little interdimensional exploration?”

“Naw,” King said as he left the room. “My tummy is craving hot chocolate and I’ve decided to graciously fulfill its demand.”

“Save some for me,” Luz said as she picked up the mirror. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Well, those are some ominous last words, but let’s give it a go,” Eda said as she placed a hand on Luz’s shoulder.

Luz bit her lower lip as she gave the mirror handle a hard twist.

The mirror sparked madly, before suddenly erupting with blue energy. The mirror seemed to shine, and the energy formed into a swirling portal.

“Alright,” Luz said with a deep breath. “Here goes.” Holding the mirror close to her chest, Luz stepped through the portal together with Eda.

They found themselves in a room. A very normal human looking room with a bunk bed and human style clothes scattered around it.

Hope flickered in Luz's eyes. Was it possible? Had she made it home?! Did she-

Someone, not Eda, cleared their throat and Luz turned.

Her joy evaporated.

Four pairs of eyes were staring at her. Eyes belonging to what seemed to be humanoid ducks. One was wearing a pink dress with a cute bow, another wore a blue shirt and a stunned expression. The third wore a red hat and shirt and seemed to be working out what question to ask first, while the fourth wore a green hoodie and held a soda can.

“Um...Hi,” Luz said slowly with a nervous smile. “Please don’t freak-”

The duck in green growled as he rubbed his eyes and set down the soda can. The actual soda can, Luz found her eyes drawn to it. “Dewey, I thought you promised not to invite extra-dimensional beings into our bedroom again!”

“It wasn't me!” the duck, likely named Dewey, objected. “I mean, it was me that other time, but in my defense the number of views for my show have never been higher.”

“While that may be numerically true, that is strictly relative,” the duck with the red hat replied dryly. "The number of views were even higher that time you left the camera on for twenty minutes of Mrs. Beakley cleaning the carpet."

“Uh….” Luz said as Eda looked around.

“Talking ducks? Hey, I think I’ve been to this world,” Eda muttered.

Before Luz could ask what she meant, the duck with the cute bow bounced up to her.

“Hi, I’m Webby!” she greeted and pointed behind her. “That’s Louie, Dewey and Huey! What’s your name?”

“I’m Luz, and this is Eda the Owl Lady,” Luz replied, slightly amazed by her chipper attitude. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to barge in-”

“Boys, what was that noise?!” shouted a female voice with a British accent.

“One second,” Huey said as he poked his head out of the room. “A portal opened and now we've got visitors from another world.”

There was a brief pause. “Are they dangerous?”

Huey pulled his head back. “Hostile or non-hostile?”

“Well, some call me a foxy mama and I've slain many a heart, kiddo,” Eda said with a wink.

Huey raised an eyebrow and glanced at Luz. “Non-hostile then?”

Luz nodded as Huey poked his head out again.

“They’re not dangerous, Mrs. Beakley!” he shouted.

“Alright, I’ll be up once these dishes have been dealt with,” the voice shouted back.

“You guys are oddly calm about this,” Luz said as she tilted her head.

Louie scoffed as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “Please, on average we get at least one weird portal opening in our house a month.”

“It was twice last month,” Dewey replied and shivered. “I still can’t get that centaur’s song out of my head.”

"Averages, Dewford!"

“Okay, then,” Luz said, wondering to herself exactly what kind of life these ducks had.

Huey pointed to the mirror in Luz’s hand. “So, given the evidence, my hypothesis is that this is what created the portal. It wasn't red, so I'm assuming it doesn't use the same method as the Solego circuit - is it magic? Runic designs, or some sort of divine blessing?”

Luz blinked and blushed realizing she had almost forgotten she was holding it.

“Uh, yeah, again sorry, we kind of just found it and were experimenting,” Luz said as she held it up. “I’ll just turn so we can-”

“Now, hold up, kiddo,” Eda said with a smirk. “I’ve been to this world before and it’s actually pretty fun. A lot more accepting of avian people than the Boiling Isles, if you catch my drift. It might actually be worth having a short visit here.”

“I can’t help but note you’re not asking our opinion here,” Louie asked. "I should really start charging tolls on interdimensional travel..."

Dewey stepped forward and pointed. “More importantly will you or will you not come onto my show for an interview?”

“How much are you willing to pay?” Eda said.

“Nevermind that,” Webby said as she grinned at Luz. “Are you a magic user?”

“I’m, er, a witch in training,” Luz said as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oooh, I should introduce you to Lena and Violet,” Webby continued. “We can compare notes - do you have a scrapbook of arcane secrets too?!”

“Oh really,” Luz said as her eyes sparked. That did sound like fun.

“Kids,” a female voice called out and another duck - female-sounding, wearing a pilot uniform - entered the room. “Beakley mentioned something about a portal-”

Suddenly, she gasped and pointed. “Eda Clawthorne! Is that you?”

Eda frowned and tilted her head. “You look kind of familiar? Do I know you? You're not a debt collector, right?”

The duck laughed and pointed at herself. “It’s me, Della Duck! Remember? I took your staff for a joyride? We had a bonding experience over nachos?”

Eda blinked, and a smile appeared as she snorted. “Della?! Ha! Wow, it’s been ages! You got old girl!”

Della laughed. “You're one to talk! Didn’t you have red hair?”

Eda snorted as she ran a hand through her hair. “True, but I am still a foxy mama though. Silver is in.”

“I have several questions,” Huey asked.

“And I smell the start of a delicious backstory,” Luz added as she rubbed her hands.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Della said. “Scrooge, Donald and I ran into her once during one of our adventures.”

Eda chuckled. “Yeah, that was a fun ride. Hey, did Scrooge ever get over the ‘you know what’?”

Della paused, and suddenly sucked air in and looked anywhere <i>but</i> Eda. “Yeah, about that. Great catching up and all, but you should probably leave before he hears that you’re here?”

Eda froze. “Y-you've got to be kidding. Don’t tell me that old coot is still alive-”

“EDA CLAWTHORNE!”

All heads turned and Luz spotted an old duck wearing a red jacket, a top hat on his head and an angry scowl on his face as he pointed a cane at the visitors.

“YOU HAVE SOME NERVE SHOWING UP HERE!”

“Oh boy,” Eda said as she grabbed Luz’s arm. “Time to go, kiddo!”

“What?” Luz cried. “But what about-”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Scrooge yelled as he wrapped his cane handle around Eda’s wrist. “YOU AREN’T GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL YOU RETURN THE COPPER PIPES YOU STOLE YOU SHIFTY SHORTCHANGING CHARLATAN!”

“Copper pipes?” Louie asked in disbelief. “Really? In this economy?”

Eda rolled her eyes as she wrapped her hands around the cane. “Aw come on, Scroogey no need to be so hostile-”

Scrooge snarled. “I have every right to be horrendously hostile you-”

“Even when I specifically came here - across the dimensional void - just to bring back those pipes?” Eda gestured to the corner of the room. “All six of them, right over there!”

“What?” Scrooge looked. “I don’t see-”

Eda kicked Scrooge off his cane and watched the duck tumble flat on his face.

“And that definitely makes it time to go!” Eda said as she took the mirror, twisted the handle and sparks started to fly. “Say your goodbyes, kid, because we are out of here!”

“Uh, okay,” Luz said as Eda pulled her towards the emerging portal. “Sorry about this!”

“No worries,” Webby said as Dewey helped Scrooge up. “Send me a letter! I've always wanted an extradimensional pen-pal!”

Luz could see Scrooge rallying to give chase, but her view was abruptly eclipsed by the swirling blue of the portal as she was pulled through. Both Eda and Luz collided at the foot of the couch as the portal disappeared behind them.

King sipped his hot chocolate as he peered over them from the couch.

“So! How was the site of my future conquest?” he asked.

Luz pointed an arm up. “Not the human realm, but we met some friendly talking ducks and I got Eda backstory so I'm still calling it a win.”

“And I got a free cane,” Eda declared as she waved the cane up in the air.

Luz narrowed her eyes. “You should really give that back.”

Eda snarked. “Luz, trust me, that guy has a ton of these things.” She held up in the air and fiddled with the handle. “I wonder if-”

A laser blazed out of the cane's tip without warning. Hooty yelped, spiraling out of the way it shot through the wall behind him.

“...Oooh, Mama like,” Eda cooed, eyes sparkling as she raced outside. “Let’s see what this bad boy can do!”

“Mass destruction! Untold mayhem! Unfettered obliteration! It's my turn next!” King shouted as he gave chase.

Luz sighed as she put down the mirror. “Alright, so...I can check off the mirror at least. Not a way home, but not bad. Maybe leave the Owl Lady here next time.”

Luz heard more blasts being fired, and the growing sounds of rampaging fires. She briefly considered going outside to reduce the carnage, but decided it might be better to write that letter to Webby instead.

#ducktales 2017 #the owl house #toh #dt 2017 #my writing

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mihidecet · 4 years ago

Text

Sbi&co: D&D AU: The Hunt

Hello everyone! I’m a tad bit late but I do hope the extra wait was worth it ahahha

And I hope you’ll enjoy it! Let me know if you do, and as always thank you for reading! <3

"Alright boys, can everyone hear me?"

Tubbo's voice sounds crystal clear through the arcane earrings they have been given, but Quackity's nose still scrunches up: it's so weird to see his mouth moving in front of him and hear his voice come from a completely different direction.

Thankfully - or maybe not - they won't be seeing each other much during this game. Another good thing is how he won't have to do much running either, if everything goes well; he still feels very much sore after last week's obstacle course, so he absolutely does not mind staying back and coordinating everyone. That and, if anyone was in need of help, he could swoop in and save the day - always a win in his book.

Quackity gives a sharp nod with his head towards Tubbo, who smiles enthusiastically before turning back towards Fundy to resume talking about how they'll manage to replicate the enchantment for themselves. A part of him wants to get in on the fun, fantasize about how quests will be so much easier with the ability to communicate remotely. He can already imagine a grand infiltration mission that that would require elegant gowns and fancy clothes, concealed weapons and arcane tricks hidden up their sleeves, all with the objective of recovering an artifact of vital importance-

But he stops and shakes his head, as if it could get rid of those silly dreams. For once, it's not like he can really … stay; and also, he has much more important things to do.

Niki is in the process of stretching when a young looking wizard skips towards them with a blinding smile to let them know that they'll be opening the gates in less than five minutes. He figures that maybe he should have been warming up too, but his favourite pastime has always been people watching - which is extremely nostalgic for him and probably slightly weird from an outside perspective. Before he can lose himself again in his own mind - nerves will do that to him, he’s been noticing - a hand appears in front of his face and he grabs onto it on instinct. The fact that he’s hoisted upright quickly and efficiently clues him onto who it was, and he smiles gratefully at Niki.

She looks up at him, reciprocating the smile except for the slight furrow in her brows - a silent question, her wondering of why he’s been spacing out, but it’s not that bad after all, he can definitely handle it; he waves off her worries, gesturing with his head towards the bright gallery that will lead them towards the arena as he chuckles to himself.

“Is it time? I must have spaced out for more than I expected!” He half-jokes, willing to share his worry only partially, and realises he’s probably said too much when the crease in Niki’s forehead only deepens.

“Are you feeling well, Quackity? Is your shoulder still hurting?” The bard is - painfully - reminded that he is talking with a literal angel as her hand reaches forwards, palm already glowing slightly golden with what he’s come to learn is the sign of her healing divine magic, and he takes a step back, hands raised to stop her.

“I’m all good, no problem at all! I just got- distracted for a moment. Needed to clear my mind and all that ... It won’t happen during the hunt!” He adds hurriedly, suddenly realising that spacing out isn’t a really good sign when you’re supposed to be in charge of coordinating the whole team, but still, he knows what he has to do and he’s not going to lose himself in his own mind while they’re working - he wouldn’t still be alive in his line of work if that was the case!

But there’s a hand placed on his shoulder and Niki is smiling at him again, which has, for better or for worse, always been able to calm his nerves down. It’s not even like he’s know these people for a long time, and yet he knows that if he could, he’d stick around for the rest of his days, probably. If they wanted him to.

“It’s alright, I understand. I know we’re in good hands, we’ve been training for this.” Niki comments, sounding so sure of her words that he feels like he agrees with that too, to hell with his own self doubt.

“Of course! We know we’re in safe hands, big guy!” Tubbo adds, startling as he once again appears to reside inside his head, and Quackity is suddenly hoping that he didn’t accidentally broadcast their conversation to the rest of their team.

Before he can add anything else - or ask very subtly if either heard them talking - an arm is suddenly slung over his shoulders, the smell of ink and sulfur worming its way into his nose as Fundy leans on him and starts leading him towards the tunnel.

“Come on, enough with the training and the moping, we have amulets and gold to collect!” The conman exclaims, receiving a raised eyebrow from Quackity himself as the bard resigns to becoming a temporary armrest - he’s learnt that that is simply what Fundy does, be it in his fox form or his human form, he’s always on his or somebody else’s shoulders. It’d be sweet if it wasn’t for the indirect reminder of his height, or lack thereof.

“Oh, and you would know all about collecting gold, uh?” Quackity quips back as Niki and Tubbo both fall into step with them, Tubbo’s mechanical bee buzzing right behind.

“It was one time!” The shifter laments, prompting the rest of the group to burst out laughing, Niki’s voice raising over the others’ to protest:

“It wasn’t just one!”

Then, the roar of the crowd fills their ears, and they step into the arena.

It doesn’t take Fundy much to reach the first portal.

The arena has been suited for the occasion, since what used to be a huge but empty field of sand is now a thick, jungle-like forest, with vines that droop from a ceiling of leaves and brightly coloured plants that snap their petals at him when he runs by.

It didn’t take him long to get used to digging his way through the foliage, his shifter blood surely aiding him in the process, but he still tries not to move too fast - he will need to get back to the main clearing multiple times, to bring back the amulets that will give them more time to explore.

One of his hands lightly grazes a leaf, leaving behind a smear of orange - he has Quackity to thank for procuring them the thick paints they coated their hands with before starting, so that their paths will be marked; easy to follow for both them and the bard himself, if any of them would ever need assistance.

He’s been running for only a handful of seconds when the light blue glow of a portal catches his eye: he smacks his hands to the side of the tree that marks his change in direction, leaving behind a much thicker mark, and jumps into the portal.

“Light blue portal, I’m in … catacombs, I think.” He says, focusing on his newly acquired magical earring in order to broadcast the information to the rest of his team. A series of loud whoops answer him, bringing a satisfied grin to his face, and he slows down for a moment, trying to listen for anything happening further down the chambers he’s found himself in, eyes scanning the ground for any hidden traps.

The coast seems to be clear - there’s a faint whispering coming from the portal behind him, the familiar gentle hum of conjuration magic, but he’s fairly certain that he’s the only living thing in there.

Which in hindsight was exactly the point, he realises a moment later as he enters a dimly lit room, when an arrow sails just a couple of inches past his face - he flinches away from the blow purely by instincts, letting out a high pitched yelp while his hands raise upwards, brain suddenly put on alert and already thinking about what to do.

The situation isn’t hard to comprehend: there are half a dozen skeletons, armed, slowly inching their way towards him; a handful are standing right in front of the only other existing exit, as if guarding it - probably commanded to do so, since from his own personal experience skeletons are rarely smart enough to “stand guard”.

He is almost certain that there are no other paths he could have taken, so his only way is forward, hopefully towards something valuable. Of course that is, if he manages to get through.

The first thing Fundy realises is that there are a bit too many enemies to comfortably take on. For a moment he truly considers simply dropping a fireball straight into the middle of the room - quick, easy, efficient - but a part of him knows that it would be a bit of a waste of energies for so little enemies, and he does expect to meet plenty more enemies very soon. Despite the fact that time is of the essence, he can’t help but remember how bets in favour of Wilbur’s team had skyrocketed after their stellar performance in the arena a handful of weeks prior. And well, a conman has to know how to put on a show, doesn’t he?

“Hello gentlemen! Would you be so kind to form an orderly cue in front of me?” He��s quick to step to the side, away from another incoming arrow from one of the two skeletons posted in front of his objective, but thankfully the rest of the skeletons are quick to follow his request as they stumble forward, moving towards him and brandishing their swords.

One of them, apparently more eager than the others, launches themselves at him, their shortsword raised high and coming down in a swift swoop that crashes against a - hastily created - light purple magical barrier. Fundy tsks at the skeleton, shaking his head disapprovingly behind the hand he had to raise to form the arcane shield. With a quick look he assures himself of the optimal placement of his enemies, then he brings his hands together in front of him, rubbing his palms together quickly as if smearing something on them; an instant later he snaps the thumb and index finger of his right hand together, close to the wrist of his left hand: flames burst from his hands, catching fire as if he’d clicked together a flint and steel over warm coal, and he brings his wrists together, directing the stream of arcane fire towards the four skeletons still stumbling towards him.

With a flash of warm light and a chilling screech, the skeletons catch fire and burn, the necromantic binds keeping them whole snapping and breaking, charred bones falling to the ground in sad heaps.

The two skeletons still standing by the exit door let out a pitiful whine, arms clanking together as they nock their arrows - one falls to the ground a couple of feet ahead of him, the skeleton that shot it starting to look as frantic as an expressionless undead can, while the other manages to catch him off-guard and pierces his left shoulder, tearing a pained yelp and a curse from him.

And well, with most of his enemies gone, he can now get his hands a bit dirtier, metaphorically speaking, as he unsheathes the rapier Niki had gifted to him more than five years before, keeping his unoccupied and still somewhat smouldering hand close to the blade. As his thumb runs over the cold metal, it catches fire, green flames licking at the hilt as he runs forward, impaling one of the two skeletons: flames burst from the blade, almost completely enveloping his enemy, the old and dry bones quickly catching fire as if they were matches. When he flicks his wrist, turning the blade on itself, there’s another burst of flames coming from the hilt itself as a bolt of emerald green fire flies towards the other skeleton, hitting their side.

The only remaining skeleton raises their bow, trying to aim at him, but Fundy simply steps forward, into their personal space, hearing the arrow being let loose behind him and flying into a stone wall.

He grins, knowing his fangs poking their way over his lips make him look more menacing, and sheaths his sword into the skeleton’s chest, cutting away the arcane ties keeping them from dying, fire burning around them both - he releases the excess arcane energy with another bolt of green fire that burns a circular charred mark into the wall to his left.

For a moment, it’s all silent around him as he takes a small relieved breath, ever so thankful of Niki’s insistence of getting him to train with his sword.

Then, Tubbo’s voice rings in his hears, calling out a new portal he’d just found - a locked one, tinted red.

Fundy gives a vocal confirmation of having received the message, then puts away his sword - flames dissipating on their own - and quickly makes his way towards the still closed door.

Plenty of things to do, enemies to kill, amulets to find.

He can take a break when their time in the labyrinth runs out.

#sbi&co dnd au #itsfundy #tubbo #nihachu #quackity #sbi au #dnd au

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