#they were always going to go to Keyleth for something

[gwendolynnderolo]

critical role ships as hozier songs

vax / keyleth : francesca

percy / vex : work song

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

fjord / jester : nobody

beau / yasha : as it was

caleb / essek : from eden

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

orym / dorian : like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

specific lyrics that i feel like represent the pairings under the cut!

vax / keyleth : francesca

how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?

my life was a storm, since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?

if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i'd go through it again

it was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away

i would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i

percy / vex : work song

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

and i was burning up a fever, i didn't care much how long i lived

but i swear, i thought i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong i did

if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

in the low lamplight, i was free, heaven and hell were words to me

pike / scanlan : foreigner's god

she moved with shameless wonder, the perfect creature rarely seen

her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me

wondering who i copy, mustering some tender charm

breaking if i try conveying, the broken love i make to her

fjord / jester : nobody

i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

but i've had no love like your love from nobody

if i had the choice between hearing either noise, the excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice

and on the other side, why should we deny the truth? we could have less to worry about, honey, i won't lie to you

beau / yasha : as it was

and in a few days i will be there, love, whatever here that's left of me is yours, just as it was

the lights were as bright as my baby, but your love was unmoved

tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me and how long i've been away

the shape that i'm in now, your shape in the doorway, make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day

and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too

caleb / essek : from eden

there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?

honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago

innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, i should know

there's something broken about this, but i might be hoping about this

a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

imogen / laudna : NFWMB

give your heart and soul to charity, cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey, belongs to me

ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?

if i was born as a blackthorn tree, i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

ain't it the life of you, your lightning of the blaze?

orym / dorian : like real people do

i will not ask you where you came from, i will not ask and neither should you

i know that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago

honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do

ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes

i knew well from our first hookup, the look of mischief in your eyes

your friends are a fate that befell me, hell is the talking type, i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight

honey, i laugh when it sinks in, a pillar i am, upright

now that the evening is slowing, now that the end's in sight, honey, it's easier knowing what you'd do to me tonight

oh, let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised and that kind of love

[blackmosscupcakes]

One of the aspects of the fallout from this last episode I'm most interested in seeing is Imogen's reaction, and that's for a very out of character reason.

One of Laura's self-admitted player quirks is avoidance of inter-party conflict. She's good at smoothing things over and tends to play characters on a spectrum from forgiving to avoidant. You can see this going back to campaign one, most notably after Scanlan returned and, while most characters were furious and slow to forgive him, Vex was instantly on his side, delighted to see him, and ready to forget everything. Jester, of course, was very committed to the power of friendship in general. Imogen tends more towards burying or distracting from feelings and events that might lead to conflict.

In 4 Sided Dive episode 20, they have the following conversation from about 1 hour 3 minutes in:

Marisha: Of course diving into the relationship is always fun, but then relationship tension is also fun.

Laura: Yeah I feel like you guys really like relationship conflict too like you guys talk about that a lot. I'm terrified of conflict--that translates to the game as well. I don't like conflict.

Sam: You don't like conflict? Even in the game?

Laura: No! I don't like fighting. Like if we're having a fight I will be like "it's okay FCG, I'm not mad at you." If you do something wrong I'll be like "that's okay."

However, her character is now in a relationship with Marisha's character, and as seen in the quote above, Marisha LOVES conflict. She eats it up! From Keyleth and Percy in C1 to Beau and Caleb in C2, she's been great at diving into tensions that further character development and make for great storytelling.

So we've reached a point now where Marisha keeps making choices with Laudna that are basically dropping an invitation to a WHOLE bunch of tension and conflict on Laura's doorstep, and up until this point, aside from a little dust up over the gnarlrock incident (a big one for Laura, but small compared to, say, Beau and Caleb's arguments!), Laura as Imogen has been broadly side-stepping these in order to do exactly what she said in the 4sd quote--tell Laudna that it's all okay.

But we've reached a point now where that's not going to cut it in avoiding tension any more! If Laudna continues down this path, lines are going to be drawn within the party, and Imogen is likely to have to pick between conflict with Laudna OR conflict with other members of the party. It's very likely there will come a point where anger and arguments can't be entirely avoided for Imogen no matter what choice she makes. And that's going to be REALLY fascinating to watch.

Sometimes these players nudge one another out of their comfort zones. Laura did it to Travis with romance. Several of them did it to Ashley with the titan shard. I think we can trust them not to push their friends to a point where they REALLY don't want to go (and I'm sure that sort of thing is negotiated between them off camera), so bearing that in mind a little tiptoe out of the comfort zone can be really interesting--for example, Travis did really well with romance in the end. It might well be a bit uncomfortable for Laura at first! But as long as she's okay trying it, I think it could lead to REALLY excellent storytelling and fantastic performance. I'm excited to see where it goes .

[utilitycaster]

Thought i was over it but i saw a post today that reminded me of how awful the villians of c3 were for whatever Matt tried to do. Anyway what are your thoughts on Ludinus staying a m9 problem and c3 should have had a villian from the continent?

Hi anon,

I think that it's fine that Ludinus was the Big Bad for Campaign 3, and I think the issues with the campaign being set on Marquet are not with him being the villain (honestly, Ludinus using his position of power in the Dwendalian Empire to seize control of an archaeological site in Marquet could have been an interesting avenue of exploration). Again, this was always intended to be a campaign of all parties coming together and setup from previous campaigns culminating.

Perhaps the larger issue is that the villain who was deeply of Marquet and heavily influenced by recent wars on the continent, Otohan, had about as much personality as hot dog water. This oversight was only made worse by the party and narrative doing absolutely nothing to explore the Apex War that shaped her (and presumably would have given her some motivations other than "Stabbity Stab; Ruidusborn").

Ultimately, though, the flaws of Campaign 3 are not any specific story element. They are the following two things and two things alone, both of which feed off each other in a vicious cycle.

Bells Hells did not know much about anything and did not particularly work to remedy this fact, and when faced with a plot for which the players were grossly unprepared, endlessly spun their wheels in pointless debates rather than making decisions or taking action.

Matt had a very specific plot in mind with very specific beats to hit and when the characters consistently failed to hit them, sort of didn't do anything to properly course correct and give the party clear guidance.

As a result we ended up with indecisive and incurious characters begging the world to give them any sort of answer instead of making any sort of interesting choices or bold move because they were so terrified to be wrong or bad that they ended up being something worse for fictional characters: dull and annoying; and a DM who either didn't see their listless flailing and throw them a rope, or who threw them multiple ropes with no guidance leading to a Buridan's Ass situation. Analysis paralysis in individual D&D characters can be interesting (Keyleth) but unexamined analysis paralysis in an entire party is a worse trait than being murderhobos, who might at least be fun to watch, and so, there we are.

Anyone blaming specific plot elements and not "the party was a bunch of people who didn't know shit about dick and no one was willing to seize the reins and say We're Going Here, and Matt didn't intervene" has a weird axe to grind. It's characters poorly suited for the story and DMing that didn't help shape them into something better suited. That's it. The Mighty Nein would have been a better party for this plot (assuming a similar first 10-20 episodes as C2 had, anyway) in that they were motivated people who made their own choices, but Vox Machina, with no ties to Ludinus whatsoever, would also have been better for the same reason. The Bad Kids from Fantasy High would have been better. Your average suburban book club who has one member who is really on top of picking books and emailing people would have been better. It's not that Ludinus was the wrong villain; it's that Bells Hells was an exceptionally and uniquely bad party for this story.

(I do think Ludinus's ending is dumb, but most of the flaws he had during the campaign can be chalked up to "a better party wouldn't have let him talk so much and he wouldn't have worn out his welcome so hard.")

[chaoticrage99]

The Veil Between Love and Death

CW: angst, mentions of de@th, possession on Percy’s behalf

Being in Whitestone for the first time, you thought it would be under different circumstances that you did not have to fight the undead or vampires, nonetheless, you were happy to help Percy out through this time of need.

Fighting alongside the members of Vox Machina, who you joined with Keyleth, to destroy the evil and undead that plagued Whitestone by the Briarwoods, who you all found out were the people who murdered Percy’s family and had taken over Whitestone.

They had turned it into a barren and desolate wasteland, filled with walking stone giant zombies. You were mortified and infuriated at how the people were being treated and the party felt the same, Percy even more.

From rescue missions to setting different houses on fire, you all helped the revolution and made your way into the castle to finally defeat the Briarwoods. Battling different foes and trying to stop Percy from killing one of the people on the barrels of his gun. You all seem to notice the black smoke becoming more and more apparent and visible and he didn’t seem to be himself, taking a mental note for yourself as you continued downward.

You all were below the castle, on top of a ziggurat, fighting the Briarwoods and a charmed Vax’ildan and Cassandra. You were helping Vex to snap Vax out of his charmed spell but nothing seemed to be working no matter what you or Vex said to him. You looked over to Percy who appeared to be having no luck with Cassandra as Sylus was in the middle of their fight. Luckily for you guys, Keyleth made sunlight to help break the charm, and together, with Grog, they burned Sylus to dust and took Delilah with you all.

Vax was helping aid Keyleth when you all made it to the acid room. You notice that Percy is almost completely wrapped in the black smoke and doesn’t seem like himself when talking to Delilah. The way that he was threatening her for vengeance for his family and going to torture her bit by bit so it lingers, that wasn’t Percy anymore and you knew that. Vex stepped in front of him and Delilah and from where you were, you could hear their conversation. She carefully took off the mask and it revealed Percy’s face he looked terrified and his eyes had blackened with his iris’ now bright orange.

Ever since you and Keyleth had joined Vox Machina, you and Percy were always together whether you were helping him build new weapons or just going into town and getting supplies for the team.

The more time you spent with Percy, the more you started to fall for him and who he was. The slightest touch of your hands with his made you crave his touch more and anytime your eyes met for a few seconds, you would look away and blush a bit. You both would confine in each other with whatever was bothering you or if you had a certain problem that was bothering you, except whenever he told you and the party about the Briarwoods and his family.

Everyone has secrets in the end.

Suddenly black smoke overtook Percy revealing itself as the smoke demon Orthax. The team was keeping Delilah away from Percy no matter the cost. That seemed to make Orthax upset and he had completely taken over Percy’s body and was making him shoot at anything that stood in his way for vengeance.

“Percy! You must stop this! This isn’t you, wake up!” You shout at him while dodging bullets while helping the others. This wasn’t the Percy you had fallen in love with and he needed to fight Orthax and regain control.

“Isn’t there something someone can do?” Vax yells out as he jumps behind the cover that you, Vex, and Keyleth were behind.

“You’re not under a charm anymore, say something to him! Say anything!” Vex grips Cassandra’s collar while saying this before letting her go. Cassandra nods, gets up from behind the cover, and slowly walks towards Percy as Orthax’s form looms over him.

You decided to go with her and hold onto her shoulder to give her support when she was reaching out and telling Percy to fight within and find the real him, which the others had come out so you all were together as a group.

BANG!

Suddenly you felt a burning pain shoot through your body, close to your heart. You let go of Cassandra and look down and see that you were shot through your chest as black smoke wisps up and dissipates. The blood seeping through your shirt and some coming out of your mouth, you stumble a bit before looking up at Percy with tears rolling down your cheeks and seeing one of his eyes had returned to normal.

“Percy…” you said before you fell to the cold concrete ground.

You hear a scream and a second gunshot had gone off, not sure where it went or who it was for due to your vision fading in and out. You saw blurs in front of you and the sounds were beginning to be muffled and turn into high-pitched ringing. Suddenly visions of your life started flashing before you so realistically as if you were reliving your life over again.

Most of the moments you saw were times spent with Percy and how he made you laugh and smile, especially when you were helping him with his experiments and some of them blowing up in his face. You both look at each other and burst out laughing as black powder covered his face. Other moments showed you two enjoying each other's presence, whether it was chatting over something or reading together in silence in the foyer of Grayskull Keep.

A tear rolls down your cheek as the moments begin to dissipate, leaving you with nothing.

You wanted to say something but couldn’t before suddenly, your vision faded to black. All senses slowly left you and the last thing you swore you could hear, even with your hearing muffled, was someone yelling, “Y/N!”, and then darkness. You slowly fall into a cold and deep dark solitude, wondering if you will ever see your friends or your love again.

Author’s note: So this is the first thing I’m posting so I hope you all enjoy. I hope to post more Vox Machina tales soon. If you’d like a part 2, please let me know. Also I’m not great with titles so apologies for that lol 😅

[sunsetlovelydreams]

I have a lot of thoughts on LoVM Season 3 but I just want to talk about one thing: the gender-role reversals in Vaxleth.

First, to the LoVM team: one day, I'm going to die from emotional overload, and I want you to know it was your fault. You will be invited to my funeral.

On to the main topic. I've always pegged Vax (yes, I know what I wrote) as more emotional than your average man. Compare him to Grog and you'll get what I mean. He's an empath. He loves his sister. You might almost say he's a family man.

But boy did this season put this on display in his relationship with Keyleth.

First big piece of evidence. The eye-opening moment. They are fighting Raishan. Keyleth is vaporized, Vax falls to his knees and cries. The poor princess mourning her hero slain by a dragon. And evidence #1.5: while Raishan looms over Vax, about to vaporize him, Keyleth emerges with a killing blow, saving our damsel in distress and taking the day. Knight and princess. A classic à la Vaxleth.

Family vs ambition: "I would gladly give my soul for one day of your happiness." As if we needed more proof that Vax loves his sister to death (again, I know what I wrote). Traditionally, though, story-telling gives woman one main interest: their family, while male characters are given personal development. Not Vaxleth. Keyleth is the one travelling the world to perfect her skills and earn high achievements, to sit on the council, and become a household name throughout Emon. But nothing Vax has ever done is for his own advancement. He goes where Vex goes, tells her several times that he'd leave the team if she did, sacrifices his soul for her and then for Percy because she loves him. He's never had personal ambition, or we're never told of them. Trophy wife material. Give me more.

The Swoon factor. Honestly, look at these two and tell me which one is more likely to swoon if this were a Victorian period drama? It's "So chunky with an adoring smile on his face" Vax. It's "I have no words because you stole them with this kiss" Vax. That man is BESOTTED. That man is the romantic. Keyleth is poised, words at the ready, newly self-confident in her feelings. If we're talking clichés: she feels with her brains, he feels with his heart (imo). The switch up is delicious.

I feel like there's more; I remember I had more in mind, so I might add to this later. Let me know if I've missed something.

Vaxleth, you are my modern-day greek tragedy, and it is a pleasure to weep for you.

[cowinatrenchcoat]

Sometimes I wonder at VM being so mad at the Raven Queen. She arguably did them a massive kindness. She accepted Vax's deal the first time to spare his sister, not by killing him, but by making him her champion. Then she accepted his next deal and returned him as a revenent without even clearly understanding why she should (she didn't really know about Vecna but Liam assumed she did so it was big missed high five of a conversation (I think this was when he turned revanent but not sure)).

That's not to say she did it just to be generous. Absolutely not. Her and Vax made deals. She upheld her end, and he has no issue upholding his end because he knows both him and Vex would be dead by now otherwise.

So I was always a bit baffled at VM's hatred of the Raven Queen.

But then I remembered, arguably, their most formative moment as a group was the Whitestone arc. Where they saved Percy from a bird-themed, masked entity that he'd made a deal with. They broke his deal, went against his own will at times, kept him, and it was all good and right.

Then they killed a would-be god. A god with powerful undead followers. A god who moved in shadows and secrets. A god who had tried to kill them and take them from each other. And that was all good and right too.

But now there's a god that reminds them of both Orthax and Vecna. A god who made Vax into an undead follower. A god who won't just let him come back without a contract, a debt. They're powerful, they could fight her. They've been put up against necromancers, dragons, an almost god...surely they could manage the next step up. Together. Like always.

But then Vax...says not to? Says it's ok? Accepts it? Vox Machina are the death denial champions. They haven't accepted death yet for any of them. Why would Vax, why would *now* be different? Surely it's like Percy and they should save him even against his will, right? Surely, even now, he's in this liminal space and could still come back if they just try hard enough.

Sometimes I wonder how different their tone would be on letting him go if any of the others had permanently died. If Vex had failed her persuasion check and Talisen ultimately let Percy die. If they'd rolled just a bit lower on any resurrection and had to actually accept death before.

But with how things went, it's really no wonder they can't move past the denial stage. They were primed to think this was something they could overcome one way or another.

Not to mention the above table aspect. Whether you like this DM choice or not, Matt has made a habit of dangling Vax in front of them. He's thrown down story elements that keep Vax attached to the world; "every day that raven comes to visit," "don't you even dare," it being canon that Vax has stepped in more than once to save Keyleth. He's made it so Liam doesn't even know what he can/should do with Vax.

Campaign 1 gave a beautiful goodbye to Vax. Scanlan's wish bent reality to let Vax "say a few words at his sister's wedding." But...now...is it implied Vax could have come back whenever? Is he in this in-between until Vex dies? Does he even know the parameters here?

So yeah. It's no wonder they're angry. It's no wonder they can't let go. They never had to learn how to let go of each other and he keeps coming back when the plot his god demands.

[verday]

Ranking my satisfaction with the conclusions for each character of Bells Hells after the finale

The list will go from least satisfied to most satisfied. Feel free to share your own.

Braius: It was going to be hard for Braius to do anything that significantly left an impact on this group. While his final confrontation with Asmodeus was the best scene he's been in it was also like the only scene I ended up being truly invested in him. A not surprising ranking.

Chetney: His line about working with metal at the end was a perfect full-circle moment and a great final laugh. I really like that he got to help F.R.I.D.A with his new werewolf powers even if we didn't get to see it. Sucks that he had the shortest epilogue but it proved that there wasn't much left to do with him in the end.

Fearne: I feel like Fearne stayed relatively the same at the end which isn't inherently a bad thing. She's so wonderfully chaotic always. She was kind of the Caduceus in that regard (a static character). Would have love to have Fearne acknowledge whether or not she gave any thoughts to what Ashton said about her not thinking things through.

Laudna: Laudna's arc felt finished awhile ago but it was nice to see some more of her gaining back her autonomy through mortality. Other than that scene with Imogen I feel like Laudna didn't have any stand out scenes in the finale. But it's okay because she had many stand out performances through out the campaign.

Orym: Another character that remained mostly unchanged. But a lot of decisions felt right for his story. The scene with him and Keyleth was the best moment for him in the finale as he has always kept things so professional with her. Finally getting a chance to speak with her on an equal level was beautiful to watch. His line to Dorian about walking in the sun was poetic and a great conclusion.

Ashton: A roller-coaster of a finale. Absolutely had the best full-circle moment with their sacrifice and the "I love yous" shared. Got some closure with FCG (even if I personally would have wanted more). The scene with Fearne was hard to watch but I definitely see where it came from and was an overall great decision. Still think that at the end Ashton was a bit too hard on himself and would have liked to see him lean into his friends more instead of going off on his own.

Dorian: A scene-stealer (affectionate) at all times and that didn't stop at the finale. His scene with his mother was a real tear-jerker. He really grew into his confidence at the end. Loved the honesty with him and Orym and the gentleness of their relationship. Glad he patched things up with Dariax and Opal as well. The fact he is the glue that holds the party together is the best ending for him.

Imogen: Stole the show with that persuasion check with the gods. A great character to end Bells Hells with narratively. She played her role as the unofficial leader beautifully. Her cabin with Laudna was something many people, myself included, were looking forward to and their conclusion did not disappoint. The fact that Imogen looks forward to seeing everyone in their dreams was the sweetest detail as well.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

ok the gentle care list… perc’ahlia and “oh…oh we’re hugging about this okay”

"Oh - okay - we're hugging about this, okay."

Percy's hungry. It's his own damn fault; one day, he'll remember to bring food with him before locking himself in his workshop all night, but, alas, today is not that day. He'd never dream of waking Laina at this hour, so he emerges from his den, bleary-eyed and ready to fend for himself.

The halls of Greyskull Keep are barely lit, just some candles in sconces every ten yards or so, so it's slow going. He's ravenous by the time he reaches the kitchen, which is pitch black. Cursing himself for leaving his lantern in his room, he fumbles around, sure that Laina keeps a book of matches somewhere nearby to light the stove, if only he could—

"Percy?"

He lets out a rather undignified yelp, sending something clattering to the floor. A few moments later, a candle flickers to life, and there is Vex, in her nightdress, looking at him and the knocked-over dinner at his feet with an one eyebrow raised.

He grins, embarrassed. "Ah. Yes. Hello."

"Hello, darling." Her words are light, but there's something off about her tone. "Did you need something?"

He can tell he's interrupted something; he just doesn't know what. "Feeling a bit peckish."

"Mm, yes, you missed dinner. Again." But there's no animosity in it, just general acknowledgement. "Well, I've made myself a little spread, if you'd like to join me." She gestures to the kitchen island between them, which is cluttered with a few cheeses, some strawberries Percy knows to come from Keyleth's garden, and a half-drunk glass of red wine.

"Oh, a midnight snacker after my own heart." He comes around the island to start picking at the makeshift charcuterie board. "So what as you up at this hour? I'm a workaholic, but usually you're rather insistent upon your beauty sleep."

She sticks her tongue out at him, then pops a cube of cheese into her mouth. "Just...couldn't sleep." She shrugs. "It happens sometimes."

He's well familiar with that, isn't he? "Lots of ghosts in the night, aren't there?"

She hums in agreement. There is a minute of silence between them, marred only by small sounds of chewing, and then she asks, "Did you like your father?"

He almost swallows a strawberry whole. "I—sorry—" He finishes hacking before he continues. "Did I what?"

"Your father. Did you like him?" She sips from her glass nonchalantly.

Percy blinks. "I—well—hmm." This was not a question he'd contemplated in a very long time. "He was a complicated man, my father. Not very affectionate, stubborn as a goat, more children than frankly he knew what to do with." Vex laughs at that. "But...I never thought he didn't love us. Me. You always knew where you stood with my father. If he was pleased, he showed it. If he was cross, you knew why." Percy pauses. "To be honest, I'm not sure I knew the man well enough to know if I liked him. He died before I got the chance to understand him as someone other than my father."

"I see." Vex swirls the wine in her glass round and round and round. "My father is an incomparable prick incapable of love."

Percy has no idea what to say to that. He just stares at her, slack-jawed, as she calmly finished her wine and sets her glass down on the island. Then, in the most shocking move yet, she throws her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He catches her automatically, his hands splaying on her back. "Oh—okay—we're hugging about this, okay."

The de Rolos were never huggers. Too saccharine. Too vulnerable. But the twins were raised differently, he's aware; Vax is always touching somebody, and Vex's first instinct when she's tired or bored or yearning to be anywhere else than where she is is to tip her head onto her brother's shoulder. And that's probably what this is—in lieu of Vax, Percy is Vex's available option when in need of comfort.

So he rests his chin atop her head, feels her shake with sobs, with rage, with careful control, who knows. "You know, your father may not be much use as a father, but that doesn't mean he can't be useful."

"What?" Vex muffles flatly into his shirt.

"Well I, for one, find few things as personally motivating as spite."

Vex tips her head up to frown at him. Her eyes are warm and deep in the candlelight. There's a long silence, and Percy's worried he's stepped in it, but then she snorts out a laugh as her face melts. "You're not wrong, darling." She steps back, and for half a heartbeat, Percy considers not letting her. "A great number of my actions have been motivated by spite, for better or for worse. It can be satisfying, can't it?"

"Undoubtedly so." He doesn't reach up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, because to do so would be insane. "Are we feeling better?"

Vex smiles. "A little food, a little wine, a little company...yes, I think so." She rocks up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Percy."

And then she is gone, and Percy is alone with the cheese and the strawberries and the feeling of her lips on his face, a lingering warmth in this drafty kitchen. He stands there, unmoving, unblinking, until the candle burns low, until the chill of her absence forces his body toward bed, toward dreams he is not yet ready to understand.

[the-french-belphegor]

Last chapter! Twice as long as the others because Grog took a hold of the PoV and didn't let go (to my delight, I love writing the big guy 💜) Here's the link to AO3!

When Vox Machina are hired to recover a cursed amulet that might “burn them all”, it seems at first glance that they narrowly escape the consequences – again. Turns out, there are lots of ways to define “burn”.

The Mechanics of Spellcasting

V.

Sometimes it was almost weird to Grog how gnomes seemed to weigh nothing at all.

He’d always been able to lift Pike, even when they were both little; he’d been young when they had met, but she had been young and really little. The first time she had climbed up the height of him like a cat and settled on his shoulders – to see if she could, to win a bet – it had been as though there had been a spot for her just there all their lives, and they’d just discovered it now.

Something that just… made sense.

It wasn’t quite the same thing with Scanlan, because Pike was Grog’s best buddy in the world, but Scanlan came pretty damn close. He was lighter than Pike, if only because, unlike her, he didn’t wear armour or carry a mace and a shield, but the sensations were pretty much the same. There was warmth where a gnome butt sat, there was wriggling where gnome feet kicked, there was conversation whenever Grog was down to chat. And there was music. When Scanlan wasn’t plucking away at his lute or blowing a tune into his flute, he was usually singing bits of melodies. Sometimes his voice rang out and made Grog’s blood run faster, took away the exhaustion building in his muscles, and made him feel like the most badass motherfucker on the face of the planet. Some other times, Scanlan’s humming just faded into the background, and Grog only noticed it when it stopped.

For being so small, gnomes took up a lot of room when Grog picked them up, one or the other. But their actual weight? Nothing. A watermelon, maybe. Vax would have been heavier, and the dude was a stick.

Take away the wriggling, the conversation, the music noises, the warmth –

(Scanlan’s skin had felt way too hot just before he’d started doing that weird twitching thing, but then after Pike had healed him and he had woken up a bit, he had turned pale and clammy and cold)

– not much remained.

Scanlan was small enough that Grog could have carried two of him in the crook of one arm, which meant he could hold his axe in his other hand. This turned out to be a good thing before they were even out of the inn. The innkeeper Percy had been negotiating with immediately saw that the blanket wrapped around Scanlan came from Grog’s bed, and started making some noise about theft and other bullshit like that.

Grog just glared at him while Percy got all reasonable at the guy; he didn’t want to waste time whaling on an innkeeper while his little buddy got all quiet and shivery again, especially considering they fully intended to come back later. He could chop the guy’s head off, though, just to save time, or at least show that head chopping was definitely on the table as far as Grog and his axe were concerned. But Grog had a niggling feeling that kind of shortcut could potentially spawn more problems they had no time for. Besides, Vex had said they had paid for a couple of nights. So Grog’s axe stayed in his hand, he kept glowering, and Percy added a few more polite words.

The axe, the glare, the words – something evidently worked. Nobody asked for the blanket back again. Good; Grog had no intention whatsoever to part with it as long as he could feel Scanlan shuddering against him from time to time.

At least he was getting warmer. And, from what Grog could see of his face just before they left the inn, getting some colour back.

Outside, the fog swallowed the moonlight and barely spat it back out at all. Grog couldn’t even see shadows. After some deliberation between the twins (who favoured being stealthy) and Pike and Keyleth (who argued they needed speed more than stealth), Pike lit up her mace with some magic while Keyleth did the same with Vax’s lantern. Keyleth walked in front with Vex and Trinket, lighting the way for Percy to follow, while Pike fell into step with Grog, on the ground for once to avoid blinding him with her magic light, with Vax skulking behind.

Grog still didn’t get why some magics randomly worked or didn’t. Clearly Percy had been wrong earlier, when he’d wanted to wait till morning: the ladies could still do spells, even rumpled up from lack of sleep with blue shadows under their eyes. But Pike had looked real sad about not being strong enough to do what needed to be done, and that… that, Grog understood. Even if he didn’t really. Kinda.

Magic was fucking complicated.

They did move at a faster pace than when they had left the druid’s shack. Vex had gotten all smooth and sharp like a predator on the hunt, eyes sweeping the ground around her, her feet leaving almost no trace at all. Trinket walked in her footprints, never missing, and they all walked in his. They made their way in the dark in silence, as though the dark and the fog pressing in all around them absorbed all sounds before they could think of making them. It was chilly and very, very wet, and soon all of them were drenched, like a bunch of sad wet cats.

Things were gloomy and bleak and they sucked.

Out of habit, since Pike looked just as tense as the rest of their team, Grog turned to Scanlan for a distraction.

“Oi, Scanlan,” he whispered in case there were monsters in the fog that might slow them down.

Scanlan was awake, more or less. His eyes were half open, anyway. He’d been staring at Grog’s chest a couple of inches from his nose, tracing the ridges of the big scar across Grog’s pecs. It tickled a little.

He blinked up at Grog with those weird bloodshot eyes and went, “Oi?”

“What do you wanna do next time we’re in a real town?”

“Dunno. Maybe play. Inna tavern. Just for the hell of it, you know? ‘S been a while.” His voice was funny, a little slow in some places and too quick in others. Sort of like it was when he was drunk, but not exactly. “You?”

“Tavern sounds nice,” admitted Grog, who hadn’t enjoyed a good bar brawl set to music in… way too long. “I might go see a smith, too. See what they got for weapons.”

“What, you wanna buy something?”

“Nah, I want supplies. Keep my axe in good condition and everythin’.” He paused. “Maybe judge a bit if theirs ain’t.”

“All right,” Scanlan mumbled approvingly. “Well, if I got some coin left I might hit the luthier’s.”

“What’s that?”

“Lute maker. Gotta get me an extra set of strings. Just in case one of mine breaks.”

“Sure.” Grog glanced ahead at Vex, Keyleth and Trinket walking swiftly and carefully; then back down at Scanlan, who looked too tired to keep his eyes fully open. They kept closing. “And, well, lady favours, obviously.”

“Obviously. I… wait, no,” Scanlan muttered, “not without the big guy. We gotta find him first. Make sure he’s okay.”

For a second Grog thought he’d heard wrong.

“What?”

“Grog. Big… big beefy dude. My best friend. He’s missin’. Went all weird and just…” Scanlan made a small fhlp noise and flicked his hand. “Disappeared. We have to save him.”

Grog was so dumbfounded he stopped dead in his tracks.

He ignored Vax’s muffled squawk as the half-elf bumped into him (and bounced right off) and barely heard a startled Pike asking what was wrong. A small part of him wondered whom Scanlan had thought he was talking to about weapons and extra strings; the rest of him was deeply unsettled about getting talked about like that when he was standing right there.

“Uh, Scanlan?” he ventured, trying to sound less uncertain than he felt. “I didn’t go anywhere. And I don’t need savin’.”

“Yeah you do. Creepy… necromancer guy did some fuckery and… and bad things. Here.” A tiny finger poked the scar in the middle of his chest. “’S okay, though. Got your back.”

At least there was a you in there this time. Still – it was like Scanlan didn’t remember that shit had happened a long time ago now.

Grog didn’t have many clear memories about the events around that scar. He did remember dark, cold, freaky dreams, and his mind turning off and on again; he remembered waking up in random places a couple times with his axe in his hands and his friends looking all beat up and wary; and he remembered the joy from seeing Pike for the first time in ages and the brief confusion about what the strange human with the very long name was doing there. And feeling way better once the old wizard dude had taken the curse out of his chest.

But that was in the past. Days ago, at least. Maybe more than that – there had been a winter or two since then.

While Grog was thinking, Scanlan flumped his head into his chest and patted his pecs below the scar. His forehead was so hot it felt like hugging Pop-Pop’s teakettle.

“…og. Grog. What’s going on? Is he okay? Are you?”

Grog unfroze. Pike was tugging on his belt hard enough to make it sag a little down his waist. Everybody else had stopped and was looking at him in alarm.

“I’m good, but…”

He trailed off, and glanced down once more, again out of habit. Scanlan was good with words; when words were needed and Grog couldn’t find any, he asked Scanlan. Simple as that.

The only answer he got to his silent plea was some quiet humming.

“…He’s saying things that don’t make sense,” Grog finally said, because I’m scared my friend is either going crazy or dying was out of the fucking question.

Vax plunked his chin on his left arm to take a look at Scanlan; Percy got frowny.

“More delirium?” he asked, his expression grim. Vax snaked a hand around the back of Scanlan’s neck and nodded.

“Oh yeah. Chances are he’s tripping right now.” He readjusted the blanket and brushed Scanlan’s hair from his eyes. “As long as he’s not hallucinating goblins again…”

A thin voice floated up from the blanket. But for the volume (or lack thereof) the tone could’ve been idle conversation.

“Fuck’n hate goblins. They should all just… die.”

That was new. Scanlan was usually a pretty easygoing guy. Grog racked his brain for something they’d seen or done recently that might explain the out-of-character remark, and found nothing. So –

“Why’s that?” he asked as they all started walking again, just a little faster.

Scanlan made a small high-pitched sound. “’Cause. They just… always gotta… kill people. Could just take their… house th—things. Possessions. Pillage and plunder and shit. Not… not murder.” His hand flapped up, then down. “But nooooo. It’s just. Frickin’… insta-death with those fuckers.”

That was a pretty good reason, as far as Grog was concerned. Like, if you needed to hate – really hate – something, might as well hate a bunch of assholes who roamed the land, randomly killing everything and everyone that stood in their way, sometimes just for a laugh. He’d killed a few goblins when he was a kid, back when he was part of his uncle’s herd. Goblin hordes had been competition. Kevdak didn’t take kindly to competition.

The idea of hating an entire species was new to Grog, though. It made him just a little uncomfortable. He did get it – plenty of survivors from his old herd’s raids must have really good reason to hate all goliaths now – but it made all kinds of unpleasant feelings crawl through his stomach for lots of different reasons.

Maybe Pike got it, too, and understood those things better than him. Her face looked curious and a little bit sad at the same time.

Vax caught up with Grog again and handed Scanlan a waterskin.

“You’re awfully intense about goblins,” he said as Scanlan drank slowly, with a breath between each mouthful. “Did you have… I don’t know, a bad experience with them?”

Scanlan lowered the waterskin. Stared at it, at Vax, at Grog, and Vax again. Then he pressed the heels of his fists into his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled. “Long time ago, though. Long time. Like… How old are you?”

“Going on twenty-seven,” Vax replied, sounding puzzled. “Why?”

“Really? Wow. Yeah, longer’n that. Long before you and… and your sister were born.” He gave the waterskin back to Vax and flopped back down. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it. ‘S all good now.”

Vax gave him a funny look, but didn’t insist.

“Hey, Scanlan,” said Grog, who kept getting poked in the brain by some stupid bad thoughts, “you know who I am, right?”

He wasn’t afraid. Scanlan was a tough little dude and he could do magic, he’d be okay. But Keyleth had said there was some kind of curse bullshit at work there and Grog was well-placed to know curses could mess with you badly, even if you were super strong and powerful.

Plus, magic could screw with your head. It was funny when they did it to some random asshole; some random asshole doing it to one of them was not. Fucking. Funny.

Scanlan grinned, more sluggish than usual. He also didn’t raise his gaze all the way to meet Grog’s, like that required muscles he couldn’t get to work.

“Sure I do. You’re my best pal. Grog Strongjaw the Mighty, of the, uh… strong… big… uhh… Anyway. You’re awesome. We should get you a hat.” His hand went tap-tap-tap against Grog’s chest again. “A better one. With… with spikes or something. ‘Cause yours right now is just… Not loud enough.”

“I don’t have a hat,” said Grog slowly. Scanlan squinted up.

“Huh?”

“I don’t have a hat.”

“But you got all those lights up there going… shiny. Pretty. Pretty shiny. Like stars dancin’ around your head.” His eyes slid closed. “Now they ride on through the sky when the moons are rising high… On summer nights when stars are bright you’ll see the Riders fly…”

There were lots more gaps between Scanlan’s words than there usually were. Even completely hammered, he always managed to sound sure of whatever he was talking about.

(Well. Right now he looked pretty damn sure Grog had a shiny hat. It was the words themselves he seemed to be fumbling for. Grog honestly didn’t know which he found more disturbing.)

The last bit, though, the song lyrics, that came out without any hesitation, like it wasn’t something Scanlan needed to think about to remember.

That was reassuring, sort of. (If Grog had been afraid. He definitely wasn’t.)

Scanlan had gone quiet again. It didn’t help that his head was still half into the blanket and half tucked against Grog’s chest. His humming came out muffled.

Grog must have been slowing down without realising it. He gave a start when Pike nudged his knee with a smile.

“Don’t worry, buddies, it’s just the fever messing with his head. Once the old druid lifts the curse he’ll be back to normal.”

“I’m not worried,” said Grog, which wasn’t entirely true. “I’m just…” He looked around in his head for something to think about that was not worry about Scanlan seeing hats and lights that were not there. “…I’m just wondering what he’s singing.”

“Oh, that’s ‘the Riders’.”

Everybody – including Vex and Keyleth ahead, including even Trinket – turned to Percy, who looked mildly startled at the sudden attention for a second before rallying.

“It’s a legend around the Battle of Torthil, from the early days of the Scattered War. The king had heard about a rebel haven there and led an attack – only, when he and the army arrived, the village in question was empty. Well, not entirely, because then he was killed by a volley of arrows, and later his heir razed the village, and… Anyway, legend says two people rode ahead of the king’s army to warn the rebels during the night and saved the town. Their respective names, races and genders are lost to history, but that’s what the song is about.

“As they rode on through the fields, with death hot on their heels,

“No bow, no sword, no dagger sharp, the dark their only shield…”

He sang in a surprisingly melodious voice that raised a few eyebrows, then added, “There’s a constellation named after them, so to speak.”

“You’ve got a lovely singing voice, Percy,” said Keyleth with a smile as they started walking again. Percy blinked.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I didn’t know that song,” came Pike’s voice behind Grog. “It sounds nice. The story’s good, too, true or not.”

Percy’s expression went wry.

“Neither ends particularly well, I’m afraid. The last verse reveals one of the riders was struck by an enemy arrow at some point and slowly bleeds out during the night, only to die the moment they reach their destination, or just about.”

“Oh,” Vex said flatly, “tragedy. Can’t say I’m a fan.”

“It does make for good songs, though,” Vax pointed out. “This one’s catchy. I might ask our bard for a full version on the way back if he’s up to it. What do you say, Shorty?” He paused. “Grog? How’s he doing?”

Grog had been searching for good reasons to not be worried and only half listened to the conversation; hearing his name, he looked around at Vax, then glanced down at Scanlan again.

“He’s, uh… quiet,” he said, before his words caught up with him and he took a closer look.

Scanlan wasn’t quiet. Scanlan was silent. It wasn’t the same thing at all. For all that the difference lived in small details – the stillness, the sunken eyes despite the flushed cheeks, the almost total lack of sound except for some breathing so thin it barely even fogged up in the cold air – it was a big difference. If something they’d been fighting looked and breathed like that, Grog would probably kill it, so as not to be an asshole.

Ice flashed up Grog’s spine, freezing him in place.

He crouched down to Pike’s level and lowered his arm a little.

“Can you do something?” he heard himself say, as though from afar, over the loop of shitshitshitshit in his head.

Pike threw him a worried look, then bent over his arm to put a hand on Scanlan’s head. The next second, she dropped her mace on the ground; while Vax deftly avoided tripping on it, she climbed into Grog’s arms and threw open the blanket.

She tapped Scanlan’s cheeks a few times. From the sound it made, the last one was more like a big slap, but even that got no reaction from him whatsoever.

“Oh fuck,” she muttered, which… was not an answer. At least not the one Grog wanted.

She grabbed her waterskin and had Scanlan swallow a few mouthfuls. Then she soaked her handkerchief, patting his face and neck with it. Water trickled down into his hair and onto Grog’s arm. Nothing else changed.

“We need to hurry!” she shouted out to Vex, Keyleth and Percy, before grabbing at the strap of Grog’s pauldron to hoist herself onto his shoulder.

“Hang on,” she whispered to Scanlan. “We’ll be there soon.”

But she didn’t do any magic.

Okay.

So.

Maybe Grog was afraid after all.

At least it didn’t look like he was the only one. Keyleth was pale beneath her freckles. He heard Vax swear behind him as the half-elf picked up Pike’s mace. Percy and Vex both went steely, Vex striding ahead with Trinket while Percy took up the lantern Keyleth had cast her spell on. Keyleth walked on side-by-side with Vex, pushing away the fog ahead with little gusts of wind. Her eyes searched the night for danger with a fierceness that Grog usually saw when she turned into something with fangs.

Silence fell again like a slab of stone.

They moved quickly, wordlessly, like ghosts flying through the swamp. The fog deadened every sound, even the nature noises – rustling, warbling, the occasional roar – that were starting to pick up around them. Dawn wouldn’t be long coming.

Time got wonky for a while. Moments stretched into hours, but also squeezed together into the time it took for Grog to blink.

The sky was just turning into a lighter hue when they all skidded to a stop in front of Selja’s door, on which Vax pounded with a strength that Grog might have grudgingly approved of if he’d been paying attention.

The door opened; the tiny dwarf lady glanced over each of them in turn, then nodded glumly.

“Ah, well, that was a possibility. Come on in, don’t mind the other corpse.”

Vex traded some of her sharpness for a dumbfounded look as she crossed the threshold.

“What do you mean, the other corp—OH MY GODS,” she yelped, “what the hell…?!”

There was, indeed, a dead human, its knees inches from her face, dangling upside down from the rafters. Selja seemed to have tied it up by the legs with thick rope. Since the ceiling was so low Grog had to stoop, its fingers brushed the floor.

The SHITs stacked together near the door with various what the actual shit looks on their faces. Trinket sniffed at the body and growled. Even Grog, despite his single-minded focus on making sure his little buddy kept breathing, had to admit the sight was something else.

It had been a good-looking woman when it was alive, who’d worn sensible leathers under a big robe similar to the dicknuts they’d fought. There was mud on it, and some scuff marks, but no real wounds. Perhaps it had started to stink, but it was impossible to tell over the heavy smell of incense everywhere.

“Uhhh, the fuck do you have a corpse strung up in your house for?” asked Vax, craning his neck over his twin’s shoulder, eyes wide.

“And why did you tie it to the ceiling?” Percy asked as he cocked his head to the side and blinked behind his glasses. “Any particular reason it’s upside down?”

Selja – who had trotted across the small, cramped room, between armchairs and little cabinets and a teapot on a stack of books – made a big gesture with her hands.

“This idiot turned up on my doorstep two hours ago with a fever strong enough to fell an ox, sayin’ she fell in with a bad crowd, didn’t know any better, sorry we tried to end the world, please help me. I did my best, but she died while I was still trying to figure out what was wrong with her.” She swept a bunch of parchments, dried herbs, and books off the table they’d left her at earlier. “I wanted a good look at her to find out what killed her, and I sure as hells wasn’t gonna do it outside. Now, as you can see, this house ain’t made for big folk and there’s too much stuff here to lay her on the floor, so in order to do that I had to improvise… Okay, you can put yours on the table. Least there’s room for a gnome.”

She looked at them expectantly. Whether it was the lifeless body hanging from the rafters, or the kooky old dwarf herself and her weird as hell vibes, for a hot second Grog had the irrational urge to take Scanlan and run the fuck out of there.

“But… But our friend isn’t dead,” protested Keyleth. Her voice had gone squeaky.

Pike stepped up, looking dead serious. “Not yet, at least. Do you know greater restoration?”

Selja squinted at her.

“I do, as a matter of fact. Might be missin’ a key component, though.”

Pike’s face fell.

“Guys.” Vex’s voice drew all eyes to her. She’d been crouching near the corpse’s head to inspect it. “What did Scanlan say about someone who was closer to the ball of magic than him?”

“I believe he talked about an attractive woman with a scar on her nose who had dodged the magical explosion,” Percy replied, “like he thought he had.”

Vex shook her head. “She didn’t dodge it, either.”

She pivoted the body a little. There was a white scar across the corpse’s nose that went over its cheek.

There must have been a draft. Even indoors, even holding what amounted to a gnome-sized bedwarming pan filled with hot coals, a chill went through Grog from the small of his back to his skull, gripping his throat on the way up.

He laid Scanlan on the table, which was spattered with stains of various colours, burn marks, and candle wax spots. Scanlan didn’t object. What little energy he had left was huddled in his chest, pushing air into and out of his lungs. Not that it was doing a great job with that. His chest barely seemed to move at all.

Selja lifted one of his eyelids open and made a face. Then she snipped a stray strand of his hair and burned it in a little pot. She added some powder and a feather, crushed the contents with a pestle, stuck her finger into the pot and licked it. And winced.

“Just as I thought. Yeah, he needs a greater restoration all right.”

“But you can do it,” said Keyleth eagerly, “right?”

“Sure I can. But I’m gonna need somethin’.” The dwarf fixed Vex with a beady stare. “You – half-elf lady. Still got that diamond dust I gave y’all?”

Everyone turned to Vex. She went very, very still.

“Ye…es?”

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to kiss it goodbye if you want to save your friend.”

Vex’s jaw fell open.

“But,” she stammered, “that’s… We’ve never… Can’t we—?”

“That’s what the spell needs, dearie. At least a hundred gold’s worth. What did you think I kept diamond dust around for in the first place?”

“I did wonder about that,” muttered Percy, while Vex made a pained noise.

“But it’s so much money…”

“Look, my girl,” said Selja with a touch of impatience, “it is my professional opinion that if you wait much longer you’re gonna need a lot more than that to bring him back from where he’ll be gone to. So—”

As if on cue, Scanlan’s chest rose and fell with a wheezing sound that was almost a rattle. His next breath was even shallower and barely audible.

Grog’s entire body froze. Vax’s face went the colour of sour milk. Pike grabbed her Sarenrae pendant so hard the leather on her gloves strained over her knuckles and cried, “Vex!”

“Yes, all right, of course,” said Vex as she frantically rummaged through her bag, sounding furious and looking scared. Her hands shook a little. “Obviously I’m not… But gods, I am never letting him live this down,” she snarled. “A hundred and fifty… I swear, he’s gonna hear about this till the end of… Here.”

She thrust the little bag into Selja’s hands and wrapped her arms around herself.

Selja shot her a Look. Eyebrows got involved.

The next second, the druid shoved her hand into the bag and made a trail of the shiny dust in a rough oval around Scanlan. She started muttering under her breath and waving her hands around. The dust got shinier and shinier, casting a blazing light of a hue that fell somewhere between white and green, and lit everything and everyone from below as they leaned over the tiny table. Scanlan’s body rose slowly about a handspan above the tabletop, head and limbs dangling. Just as Grog wondered whether he should reach out to grab him, in case he floated all the way up to the ceiling, the light rushed into Scanlan all at once and his body gave a great lurch.

The white-green light shot out of his eyeballs in beams so powerful they looked almost solid.

Grog shielded his eyes behind his arm and screwed his eyelids shut for a second, and still he saw bright spots dancing everywhere across the black.

“Watch the head!” Selja called out. Grog held out his hand instinctively, just in time to keep Scanlan’s skull from hitting the wood of the table like the rest of his body did with a thud.

The light faded. Scanlan’s head rolled to the side in Grog’s hand.

A whole bunch of people and a bear inched closer.

…And heaved a sigh of relief when Scanlan blinked, slow and unfocused, but his face a normal colour and eyes no longer bloodshot.

“Hey guys,” he mumbled. He breathed deeply, gulped – or tried to – and frowned. “Why am I… Grog, is that your hand under my—whoa!”

Grog didn’t let him finish. He swept him off the table and into his chest for a hug in one motion.

“Do not do that again,” he said, as stern as he could. “I’m serious. That was fucked up.”

Scanlan’s hand tapped the side of his chest.

“Okay, I won’t,” he squeaked, and Grog loosened his hold just a little. “What did I do?”

Pike shouldered her way from between Keyleth and Vex. Grog lowered Scanlan to her height; she grabbed the sides of his face and peered at him without a word. While he stared back at her, eyes wide, she took off a glove and put her hand on his forehead, then splayed it on his chest.

Scanlan looked down and went cross-eyed trying to focus on her hand.

“Um. Pike? Pikey-poo? Love of my life? What are you doing?”

“You’re okay,” she said softly. Then, with a big smile, as she turned back to Selja, “He’s okay!”

“Of course I’m okay,” he said, somewhere between his usual confident smile and a mystified look. “What…”

“Well…” Selja cut in, but what both she and Scanlan planned to say next got drowned in relieved noises and happy exclamations. Grog added his own. That had been too fucking close.

It was hard to tell, from the way Scanlan still stared at Pike, whether he was tired, confused about why everybody looked so glad, or just being weird about Pike like he often was. He hardly seemed to notice a smiling Vax tousling his hair.

Since the gesture ended up undoing what little remained of the gnome’s ponytail, Vax picked up the ribbon from the floor and gathered Scanlan’s hair into a nice queue again.

“You didn’t die is what you did. You can thank the nice druid for that, by the way.”

“Thanks, Keyleth,” said Scanlan automatically, but Vax gently turned his head towards Selja.

“Wrong druid, Scanman.”

“What d’you mean, ‘wrong’… Oh. Hi?”

Selja gave a wave and a satisfied smile. Scanlan moved a couple of fingers in her direction, looking nonplussed. Then his eyes strayed to the right and his mouth did the thing that happened when he grinned at something that was really not funny.

“That’s, uh. Some lovely interior décor you’ve got here.”

“Oh, that,” said Selja with a side glance at the dead cultist hanging nearby. “That’s not for keepin’. Just scientific curiosity. That could’ve been you, incidentally.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have strung you up here forever. Just a bit, you know, for studying. Your friends would’ve been free to bury you after.”

“Okay. Cool. Coolcoolcool. Thanks.” He turned his head away from her and asked out of the corner of his mouth, “Can we go? Like, the fuck away? Somewhere without so much incense and where there aren’t corpses strung up the fucking ceiling like Winter’s Crest decorations?”

Vex, who had kept her distance and a hand clutched in Trinket’s fur since the magic light show, straightened up and smiled.

“Sure thing. Besides, we paid the innkeeper two nights in advance in Blackridgepool. This time if anyone tries to wake me up before I’ve had my full eight hours, I will straight-up murder them.” Her eyes softened. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” Scanlan said with a whifty dismissive gesture. “Grog? You can put me down now, bud.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Grog bent down and did just that. The moment he let go of Scanlan, the gnome crumpled on himself and landed in a heap on the floor, looking too surprised to even wince.

“Well, shit.”

Selja cackled. “Yeah no, honey. This one’s gonna be as lively as a wet rag for a couple of days,” she told Vex with a thumb pointed in Scanlan’s direction. “I’d keep an eye on ‘im if I were you.”

“Oh, we will,” said Vex, glancing with narrowed eyes at Scanlan, whom Pike was helping up and holding onto firmly, to his delight. Then, “Thank you.”

“Eh, you’re welcome. Like I said, you did good.” She poked the corpse, making it swing a little, and made a face at the table, where the diamond dust had burned a big black trail before turning into magic light. “Gonna have my work cut out cleanin’ that mess out. Well, see ya!”

“But –” began Keyleth, but Vex gently pushed her to the door with a cheerful wave at Selja. Grog gladly took it as an excuse to leave. He helped Pike sit on his shoulder and offered a ride to Scanlan, then got out, not waiting for the others.

Outside, the sun was lighting up the fog, turning everything blue and yellow and white. The colours made the landscape look fragile, like Pop-Pop’s good crockery that had to be handled extra carefully. They also made everyone look real tired, with dark circles under their eyes.

The day had been hard, and the night way too long.

Unlike earlier, however, the mood was light. They all smiled and chatted as they walked. And while Scanlan’s body felt all floppy in Grog’s arms and his voice wasn’t as strong as it usually was, he was warm – the regular kind – and his words were his own as he chattered with Pike and Grog.

“So,” he asked at some point after a long drink from his waterskin, “we did get the thing, right? The amulet?”

Keyleth, who was close, nodded.

“Of course we… Wait,” she added with a frown, “don’t you remember? The cultists, the explosion…?”

“The explosion – oh, right, yeah, that happened. I guess it was worth it, though, in the end.”

“Sure, but after that?”

“What about after that?”

Pike and Keyleth looked at each other.

“Scanlan, you got cursed,” Keyleth said, somewhere between incredulous and a little upset. “If Selja hadn’t… That could’ve been real bad.”

Scanlan’s grin slipped down a notch.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There was a curse on the amulet,” said Pike, quieter than usual. “Too powerful for any of us to tackle. Not that we could’ve done anything anyway, after yesterday’s battle.”

He glanced at each woman in turn, and he must have spotted something Grog didn’t, because he made a sympathetic face.

“Out of magic too, huh?”

“Clean out. Not a single potion left, either.”

From the look on her face, Pike probably intended to sound as flippant and light-hearted as Scanlan seemed to be about the whole thing. It didn’t really work. Her smile wobbled at the edges and she had the little furrow between her eyebrows that meant bad things.

For a second – just a second – Scanlan looked blank.

Then he grinned.

“Welp. RIP me, I guess. Or not, thanks to the mad dwarf who hangs random corpses upside down. Anybody else think that was fucking weird, or just me?”

“Are you always this cavalier about knocking on death’s door?” asked Percy with one eyebrow up as he cleaned his glasses on his handkerchief. The fog made him do that a lot. “Because you did come awfully close, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t die. That’s a win in my book.” Scanlan leaned his head against Grog’s arm and called out, “Hey Vex, what’d we get?”

Vex, who had fallen into step with Vax and Trinket, turned to him absently.

“Hm?”

“The weird druid lady, what did she give us for a reward? I mean, we must’ve gotten something, right?”

It was kinda funny how everybody else stopped talking and looked at her for a second.

Vex opened her mouth. Closed it.

Then –

“Fifteen gold,” she said.

And the thing was – if Grog hadn’t known she was lying, he would have believed her.

From the look of it, Scanlan certainly did. “Each? Nice.”

“Fifteen total, darling.”

“What!? Aw, man,” he groaned. “Next time we do a world-saving gig we gotta do better than that.”

“Next time we do a world-saving gig we’ve got to do better at the whole ‘not dying’ thing,” Vax retorted.

“Hey,” protested Scanlan mildly, “we’re awesome at not dying. It’s the getting paid that’s the problem.”

Vex shot him a scathing look. “Why don’t you worry about getting better at not almost dying, then, and let me take care of our finances, hm?”

“We could hit Westruun next time,” suggested Vax before Scanlan could reply. “Bigger town, more prospects.”

“Also Pike and Grog could say hello to… What was his name? Wilhelm?”

“Wilhand,” Pike corrected Keyleth with a smile, a real one this time. “Yeah, that’d be great. It’s been a while.”

“It’s settled, then.” Percy glanced at Vex and amended, “Well. In a couple of days, obviously. Since the rooms are already paid for. No point in wasting two nights of indoor accommodations.”

Grog agreed with the others. The bed he had started his night in hadn’t been super comfortable, being made for bodies the size of Percy’s or Keyleth’s, but it had been a bed and it had been under a roof. Everybody else looked like they were more or less close to dropping anyway. The ladies were grey in the face; Vax and Percy moved carefully, like their bones might rattle if they took a wrong step; Pike was leaning much more of her weight onto Grog’s head than usual, which in turn made him hold onto her legs to make sure she didn’t slip; Scanlan rested his head fully against Grog’s chest and blinked a lot when nobody was looking. His breathing was pretty even, though: faster than Grog’s, sure, closer to Pike’s when she was real tired, but nowhere near as bad as earlier.

“Hey Grog,” he murmured later, after they’d gotten to the inn and negotiated access to their respective rooms even though it was mid-morning, after they’d crawled into bed and shed outer clothes on a scale of Grog (naked) to Percy (who wore actual pyjamas), after Vax had offered to share with Scanlan again but Scanlan had yawned and said thanks but he’d stick with Grog.

“Hmm?”

“I really got cursed?”

Grog looked at his friend curled up on his chest, half-open eyes bright in the dark. It was always hard to tell whether Scanlan was fucking with someone. But Scanlan wouldn’t fuck with him for laughs. Not like that.

Probably.

“Yeah. You really don’t remember anythin’?”

“Just some freaky dreams. Probably didn’t happen.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Scanlan didn’t answer right away. Then, “Like I’m a kid in class and the teacher asks me a question and suddenly everybody’s naked except for me? And then for some reason the classroom is an airship that catches fire and crashes.”

Grog nodded wisely.

“That definitely did not happen,” he said with utmost confidence. Sometimes – some times – he had to admit he had no idea what was going on, but never to that extent. (Not that anyone else needed to know that.) Since it had looked and sounded like Scanlan’s fever had really turned his brain upside down for a while, Grog could reassure him on that at least.

Scanlan smiled and put his chin on his arms.

“What did happen, then?”

“Oh. Well.” Grog scratched his head. “You got really hot.”

“To be fair, I am incredibly hot already.”

For a split second before he spotted the pun, Grog felt the cold spike of fear in his gut again. More than Scanlan’s eyebrow waggle and shit-eating grin, it was the comfortable warmth of him on Grog’s chest, so unlike the unnatural heat of his skin during the night, that sent that fear packing.

Joke. Right. Well, Grog thought, if Scanlan could joke, it meant everything was okay.

“Heh. Yeah. Anyway,” he continued, because Scanlan was still looking at him expectantly, “you got bad sick. Started seein’ things that weren’t there. Keyleth said something about a… a biting eye curse? And Pike said she couldn’t heal you. ‘Cause the curse was too powerful or something.”

Scanlan gave a thoughtful nod.

“That explains the weirdo from the swamp. Hallucinations, though? Sounds trippy. I hope that was funny to watch, at least.”

“Kinda,” said Grog, trying not to think about his little buddy fumbling for words and looking at him like he wasn’t really there. Sorting out the words that were gathering at the back of his brain was distracting enough. It felt like putting more and more weight on ice. “But… uh…”

“Wait, back up, what’s that you said about a biting e—”

Without warning, the ice broke.

“Pike said she didn’t have any magic left,” Grog blurted out, “but then she and Keyleth made magic lights on the way to the old druid’s, and Keyleth kept pushing the fog away with some magic wind. You got cold, and then way too hot, and then you got all quiet and you didn’t move at all and still they wouldn’t do the healin’ magic thing you lot do. How does that shit work?”

Scanlan blinked, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled a little wryly.

“They were out of healing magic, that’s all.”

“But not light magic? Or wind magic?”

“Yep. Ever been so tired you just couldn’t walk?”

“Sure,” said Grog, who couldn’t remember any specific occasion at the moment but was pretty certain that had happened at least once in his life. At the very least.

“But you could, like, wink?”

“Of course. That’s nothing. Why?”

“Well, right now I’m beat. Couldn’t do a proper spell to save my life. But I still got this.”

He closed one hand around the edge of the woollen blanket and flicked his fingers with the other. The next second, there was a small Grog floating just above Scanlan, about the size of his head, brandishing its axe and frozen in a silent roar.

Grog gave a start that almost threw off Scanlan and the blanket with a muffled yelp. He only just managed to catch both just in time.

“Waitwaitwait,” Scanlan hissed in an urgent whisper, clinging to his arm, “it’s just an illusion! See?”

He waved an arm through the tiny Grog. His hand sailed right through it.

Grog poked a finger through the figure, puzzled. “But you just said you couldn’t do spells.”

“Cantrips don’t count. They’re like… winking. Tiny bits of magic I could do even half dead.”

That was a lot to wrap one’s head around, Grog decided as he poked at the little figure again. It vanished with a few purple sparkles.

“I think I killed your illusion.”

“You’re really strong like that.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” said Scanlan with a yawn, eyes sliding closed, “I can always make a new one.”

Grog thought for a bit.

“So, like. Pike and Keyleth really couldn’t do anything else?”

“I’m sure they have a couple of other cool tricks of that kind up their sleeves, but yeah, pretty much. That’s just how magic works.”

“Well, magic makes no fucking sense.”

“Not gonna argue, buddy,” Scanlan murmured into his chest with a small laugh.

Grog was tempted to ask him why everyone pretended it did make sense, then, but thought better of it. From what he could see of his face in the dark, Scanlan looked this close to conking out completely. More to the point, his body felt limp in a way it only seemed to go when he was asleep – or unconscious, which was a thing Grog knew now. Whatever. He’d almost died; he needed the sleep.

Maybe Grog would never get why magic could somehow destroy everything, save the world, and be totally useless at the same time. That was okay, though. He had his axe; he had Pike, he had Scanlan, and he had his team.

With them at his side he could face all the magic bullshit in the world.

—

Aww, Grog. You’ll end up facing SO MUCH magic bullshit. But we know he’ll go through life blithely, with all the self-confidence of a man with an intelligence of 6 who knows that even the most powerful sorcerer is squishy if you manage to hit them hard enough! Besides, his gnome buddies are badass magic users, so :P

(The friendship between Grog and his gnomes give me LIFE 💜)

Thanks for making it this far! I hope you enjoyed the story :o)

[demigoddessqueens]

the love letter

based off a movie recommendation from @whoviancumberbunny called The Love Letter

Summary: an enchanted desk where Person A leaves their letters and Person B finds and reads them across time/dimension (this is also the premise from the movie too)

Percy

Surprised at this little family secret hidden away in the house, and while he initially thinks it foolish, he sends one only to have your response back. In you, he finds a kindred spirit who he can speak with and he appreciates feedback from you if he ever sent

You two banter like long lost loves over your letters, made up nicknames for each other and countless “my loves” as well

Vax’ildan

Ok I’m gonna give my boi his much overdue happy ending and this is also kinda leaning into the movie’s plot too 😭💕🥹❤️‍🩹

He loves sending these letters back and forth you. It’s sweet, sensual and for the time he thinks he has, there’s a comfort in it that there’s someone he can look forward to

back in your world, the letters stopped coming from him and you were worried sick that something had happened to him. Your heart shatters when you receive word from those who call themselves his friends and they tell you of his fate. In the few days that follow after, you try to console a broken heart until you come across a stranger who makes you feel like you’ve met before. Tall, beautifully tanned skin, warm eyes and raven dark hair with a braid to his side. You’re both so lost in the surprise and familiarity of it all, you don’t notice the unseen golden thread of fate that binds you together.

Keyleth

At first she was surprised by Percy’s little magic desk and sent one just to see what would happen.

Writing back and forth to you was one of the greatest days of her life.

Scanlan

Though he’s never seen your face, it’s an old familiar feeling stewing within when you write back and forth to each other. If you’re a fan of music, he sends sheet music to you and loves the little love notes you make in the corners of pages

Vex’ahlia

Naturally curious, she sends a few letters just to see and is thrilled to see that you’ve written back. You always compliment her writing, how pretty she sounds in writing, and the back and forth of “(my) darling”

Grog

He’s excited like a kid and at times just shoved bundles of letters in one go, to which they explode all over your desk. Sometimes he’ll even leave a doodle here and there of what he’s done/seen on travels

Pike

She thinks this is an interesting find in Whitestone and sends one just to see what happens

After the first time, she’s always eager to check the desk almost everyday just to see what you’ve written back. It’s one of the highlights of her day

BONUS: I feel tho, that if you attached a Polaroid/photo of yourself, they’re holding onto that like it’s priceless because now there’s a face to a name and your letters

[neopuff]

title: the second time word count: ~1700 ships/characters: vex/percy, keyleth summary: His night with Vex’ahlia had awakened something in him that he wanted to explore. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60153133

x

Things had calmed down quite a lot since they entered Scanlan’s…chateau. His stronghold. Whatever he was choosing to call it. It was clear from how Grog and Keyleth were staring at Pike that something significant had happened to her in Dis, though Percy wasn’t sure when would be an appropriate time to ask about it. He supposed she would tell him and Vex’ahlia if they needed to know - Vex had never explained all the details of how she procured Fenthras, after all.

It wasn’t exactly like they were keeping secrets. Some things…they just didn’t want to talk about. Some things were difficult to talk about.

As Percy enjoyed some of the endless supply of red wine that Scanlan provided, he hoped it wasn’t obvious that he kept glancing towards Vex.

Some things were very difficult to talk about.

Especially after trying and failing, and then having a very awkward conversation that did not go the way he’d wanted, and then…well. She’d said they didn’t need to be apart. He understood that, generally. But he wasn’t sure exactly how to…initiate. Being together. Again. And maybe another time after that.

His experience with sex was as limited as a person’s experience could be, but his night with Vex’ahlia had awakened something in him that he wanted to explore. He wanted to explore it with her and only her. But he didn’t want to come across as desperate or needy - she clearly didn’t mind his inexperience, but he had a feeling that it’d get old quickly.

Percy was adjusting his glasses and pretending not to stare at her again - she was laughing at something Scanlan said, and she always looked so beautiful when she laughed - when he was reminded that he was in a very public area.

“Hey!”

He jumped slightly, and in his embarrassment tried to pretend he didn’t by combing his fingers through his hair and smiling at the redhead who appeared next to him. “Hello, Keyleth.”

She smiled at him, glancing towards where Vex was standing and then back to him. “You might want to slow down on the wine, Percy. Your cheeks are all red.”

Whether the redness was from the wine or his embarrassment, Percy wasn’t sure, but he knew they would only get redder if he stayed where he was. “Ah. Well. I suppose I should stop, then.”

Keyleth stared at him, almost knowingly, but Percy had no intention of talking to her about what was going on between him and Vex. Her brother knowing about them was already anxiety-inducing enough, especially considering how little Vax thought of Percy. Keyleth thought the world of both of them, but she’d be so happy for them that she’d tell Pike and Scanlan and it was just too much, too soon.

Especially since they were just…casual. Or whatever they were. Percy wasn’t sure how to define it, since Vex didn’t seem comfortable giving them a label. And he was going to respect that as long as his heart could take it. Because he did want to be with her as completely as possible, but if he pushed too hard and made her pull away, the loss would be agonizing.

Percy adjusted his glasses again and left the main room, heading towards what Scanlan said could be his bedroom for the duration of their stay. It was nice, surprisingly clean. Bigger than their usual accommodations outside of Whitestone.

He sat on the edge of his bed for well over twenty minutes as he tried to decide what to do. He needed to talk to Vex, obviously. He couldn’t just waltz up to her and ask if she’d like to go for another roll in the hay, even if that was exactly what was on his mind.

Percy grumbled and held his hands against his face, squeezing his glasses into the root of his nose. It was going to leave an annoying red line, but he was so annoyed with himself he couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t he just walk up to her and say exactly what he was thinking? If Scanlan could manage to bed strangers with hardly any effort, surely Percival could invite a friend that he’s already had sex with to repeat the activity.

His face heated up as he thought about it again. Maybe he would just go take a bath in one of the hot springs and see how he felt after that. He needed to wash up, anyway, especially if he wanted to impress Vex’ahlia.

He stripped off most of his clothes and considered the possibility that he could invite Vex to the hot springs with him. It would be putting himself out there without being too obvious about his intentions. Though she’d obviously understand what he meant, because she could always tell what he was thinking.

Swimsuit, extra pair of shorts, and towel grabbed, Percy poked his head out of his room to see if anyone was in the hallway. Vex’s assigned room was just across from his, so he quickly stepped forward and knocked.

“...Vex?” he asked softly, knocking again.

Another few seconds passed without an answer, and Percy felt very defeated to realize that she wasn’t in her room. He didn’t want to go back out to the main room and see if she was there, because he would not want to ask her to join him in front of anyone else.

So he’d go to the hot spring by himself. Take a breather. Try to talk to Vex sometime in the evening, maybe they could have a drink together and enjoy one another’s company again. Possibly. Hopefully. 

God, he really hoped she wanted to.

Percy was happy that he didn’t come across anyone from the team as he made his way outside, and one of the springs in a more remote location was completely empty when he found it. He took a deep breath, enjoying the warm steam against his skin. After their long, long day in the freezing cold, it would be nice to warm up properly.

He folded his towel and extra clothes, leaving them in a dry spot not too far from the spring. Then he went back and forth, trying to decide if he needed to keep his swimsuit on. Since they were in a place surrounded by visions of Scanlan, he felt like he didn’t have full privacy. But Scanlan swore that they were just sculptures, and he couldn’t see anything that wasn’t within his personal eye line.

With a deep breath, he decided to believe Scanlan. Hot springs were meant to be enjoyed naked, so he was going to take the plunge.

Percy sighed dreamily as he sunk into the water - hot bubbles climbing up his skin and tingling every nerve. It wasn’t as nice a feeling as being with Vex, but it was definitely in second place. If he had to rank them.

Less than ten minutes of relaxing passed before Percy heard the sound of footsteps nearby, and opened his eyes to see a blurry figure with tan skin and dark hair looking at him from around the corner.

“There you are!”

There was no mistaking that voice. “Vex!” he said, surprised. Percy sat up straighter and stared at her, wishing he hadn’t taken off his glasses. “H-how are you?” He internally scolded himself for stuttering, knowing he had no reason to be nervous. But still, nervous he was.

Vex came a little closer and he could sort of see a smirk on her face. “You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?”

“Of course not,” he answered quickly. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I…tried to talk to you earlier, but you weren’t in your room, so…I wasn’t sure, um. I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy.”

She let out a soft chuckle and suddenly tore off her towel, revealing her entire naked self to the hot steam and Percy’s wandering eyes. “Mind if I join you?” she asked with a sultry lilt, entering the water before he answered since she knew exactly what his answer would be.

“Would you hand me my glasses?” he asked, watching each and every movement very closely. “They’re just behind you.”

Vex ignored him and waded over, her breasts fully visible above the water while she reached her hands back and undid her hair. Her body moved rhythmically as she shook out her hair and Percy found himself completely mesmerized. She was close enough to see and certainly close enough to feel.

“Gods, you are beautiful,” he said quietly, not completely sure if his lips even moved. His brain was running on overdrive and all he wanted to do was grab her and hold her and feel her and-

She laughed and leaned forward, laying one hand on his chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mumbled, stepping even closer.

Vex dove her other hand into the water, feeling around for an obvious target, then laid her fingers gently at the bottom of his stomach. She kept her hand still at the sound of him hitching his breath and looked up to stare in his eyes. “Are we still…good?”

He felt like his nerves were on fire. Vex’s lips were so close to his own and her hand was- and he-!

Percy nodded and laid his hands on the sides of her face, pulling her to him for a much-needed kiss. He wanted her so badly that it ached. He pulled away from the kiss and went back several times, pausing for a moment to answer her question in pieces. “Yes-! Please-! Anytime-! I-! Yes-!”

She smiled into the kisses and grabbed him, very satisfied by the way he twitched under her ministrations.

Percy felt like he was floating on air. It wasn’t often that he was happy - he hadn’t been truly happy for a long, long time. But being with Vex made him feel more relaxed, more calm, more alive. He was sure that he’d be able to work himself up to initiating their next rendezvous now that he was a bit more confident in their status.

Her tongue slipped into his mouth and Percy sighed happily, wrapping his arms around her. When he was with her, it felt like there was nothing wrong in the world. 

All he wanted or needed was Vex’ahlia.

[burr-ell]

Genuine question bc i always psyche myself out of writing due to this exact fear, how do we differentiate and avoid Shallow Angst when we pursue writing character studies? Situational angst seems straight forward where it's like oh no character got Hurt and now needs to be Comforted (the "plot" seems out to get this dude hurt and everyone centers on said dude with little other exploration), but say we did want to look at canon grief, using Vex as the example; what is the good way and what is the bad way to explore it? When do we go too far into excluding the rest of the story?

So I had conversations with @blorbologist and @essayofthoughts about this very thing, and what it basically boils down to is this: are you looking at these emotions realistically, taking into consideration the massive spectrum of how these characters interact with them and attempting to push past your own limited perspective of how feelings work, or are you just using them as a vessel to convey how you feel about something or what you think should happen?

Because there are plenty of very good fanworks that involve angst! Angst is, in simple terms, the examination of anxiety, dread, and sadness, and that absolutely has a place in the creation of art. Well-written angst attempts to find the character's voice in it all—it considers how they've dealt with emotions like that in canon, it asks what real-life expressions of grief or sorrow make sense for that character to convey based on their personality and past history, and as all good fanworks (and original works) do, it comes from a desire to understand someone who is not like you.

Take the example of Vex:

How would Vex deal with the loss of Vax? Based on what we know about her, I think it's safe to say that yes, she would be leaning a lot on Percy and Trinket, burying herself in her work some days to avoid the worst of it, but there are also days she'd be avoiding Percy, and maybe even Trinket, to go off on her own. I think she'd hold resentment toward the Raven Queen, even as I think she'd also want to keep the shrine standing in Vax's memory and actively push herself to forgive her. It would be complicated even further by her pregnancy, and all of the hormonal imbalances and physical complications that would entail. It would be complicated even further by the fact that she and Syldor canonically attempt to reconcile specifically in the wake of Vax's death; while I doubt they'd see much of each other in the first year or two, I think they would both be making incredibly awkward and loaded overtures that would be emotionally complicated and draining.

There are times she would lash out and times she would be hollow, and there's a lot she probably wouldn't be able to talk about because she just can't, because grief isn't something you can often put into words. There's a lot she'd also laugh and joke and smile about, because coping with loss means letting the wound scab over. There are times she'd be able to connect to Percy and Keyleth over the loss and times she couldn't, because the loss of a loving-but-complicated family and the loss of a lover don't feel quite the same as the loss of a twin who was all you had for over a decade.

There are a lot of ways to convey all that! There's no "right" answer; this is up for interpretation. But I do think "Vex will never braid her hair again cause Vax used to do that!" is definitely a wrong one.

Vex and Vax were codependent, but I think people tend to overstate the degree, and tend to ignore their canonical relationship development and Vex's characterization. I think it's important to note that Vex actually handles being separated from Vax during the Trial of the Take arc much better than Vax handles it; she makes fast friends with Zahra and generally seems to be enjoying herself and having a good time. Vex closes herself off a lot, but I think an underrated part of her speech at Percy's resurrection is how it recontextualizes the titling in Syngorn—he made her a part of something precious to him, and by the end of the campaign her stated goal is "make Whitestone the tits". Vex didn't just like, wind up as a city figurehead by marriage and shrug and decide to make the best of it; she was offered a chance and made it her bitch. The Raven Queen took part of Vex away when she took Vax, not all of her.

Yes, the loss is incredibly tragic and the end of Campaign 1 is bittersweet, but there are ways to portray Vex dealing with it that don't involve the general tenor of "ALRIGHT EVERYONE, DAILY REMINDER TO BE SAD ABOUT VAX". Like, I don't think Vex's first thought when she saw Laudna's body was "she looks just like Vax :( time for my daily Two Minutes Sad". (My issue with that isn't even whether the thought might occur to her—it absolutely could! But after thirty years, I doubt it would have been anywhere near the same level as "this innocent young woman was horribly killed for looking like me and I have to help her however I can; also if Delilah comes back I can should must and will tear her a new asshole". Like, the Vax thing might have come up long in the aftermath of her and Percy's inevitable late-night alcohol-induced therapy railing, but probably not before.)

A lot of the shallow angst you see in fandom generally has the same voice—not necessarily because it's written by the same people (although you do see many of the same people purveying it), but because the trending popular angst has to trend and be popular somehow, and it does so by channeling thoughts and emotional expressions that are broadly approved and accepted by the community, whatever that community happens to be. The characters in these fanworks behave the way that they do regardless of whether or not it makes sense in the narrative because shallow angst isn't about the narrative—it's about making your audience sad in the specific, narrow way that you are sad. It's about projecting yourself and your own emotions and how you would deal with them onto a character instead of trying to really understand someone who's different from you.

In our discussion, Blorb described fanworks in a way that really resonated with me—they're conversations with canon. Good, effective conversations are real attempts to communicate with people, trying to understand where they're coming from and connecting with who they are. Shallow conversations are one or multiple parties only thinking of the other person as a reflection of themselves, getting out their own thoughts and feelings with little interest in trying to figure out who other people actually are. And it's not that I think people who make these kinds of works are ontologically bad; it's that I think they're stifling their own creativity and growth. Everyone deserves better than to be limited to themselves.

[utilitycaster]

So something you’ve mentioned in a previous ask about how some of the players have decided to play characters that are more go-with-the-flow or designed to specifically take a step back, and I’m curious if you think that the fact that those players (Travis, Marisha, Liam) taking on a sort of sideline role, has also sort of affected the party’s decisiveness and by extension of the campaign because of it? Not to say that they shouldn’t try that different kinds of characters because they should and they have the liberty to try it out for themselves, but with no one else to really step up, it leaves the party in kind of a mess.

From previous campaigns, Travis and Liam have always been hard drivers of decisions and direction, in part of the characters they play having clear goals or strong personalities in knowing what they want (Marisha I think this applies to more for c2 since it was something Keyleth had to grow into as a leader over the course of c1). In contrast, Laura and Ashley tend to be players who tends to be indecisive in the face of a decision because they don’t want to make the wrong one. This has been a through line since Laura as far back as c1 because I distinctly remember a Talks Machina episode where Laura talked about how for a moment she thought she made the “wrong” choice with Saundor, but then later on came to the conclusion that she made the “right” one.

With Laura and Ashley playing characters that are spotlighted so heavily in the plot of this campaign, this indecision weighs as heavily because they play characters are the hard drivers while the others (outside of Ashton) are reactive rather than proactive or for Oyrm’s case, specifically and deliberately by Orym’s own choice, more quiet snd sidelined. I think Travis has had Chetney to try and take center stage to push a couple times throughout the campaign, and I think Travis did it with Grog too in c1 when the party took too long to come to a conclusion and he would decide something to get the party moving, but there’s a lot of empty time and space on that stage in c3 where in previous campaigns someone would pretty consistently take that spotlight.

I think some players are generally more inclined than others to lead or be in the driver’s seat and some players who don’t want that position majority of the time, and that’s perfectly okay. It’s just a matter of experimenting with what works and what doesn’t, and I think for BH, it doesn’t. And I don’t think it should be a requirement from some players to play a specific role all the time, but I think it’s important to at least acknowledge it and comprise, allowing players to play to their stengths and cover others’ weaknesses to make the table and story flow and work

oh definitely. I think you said this well, and I think Keyleth actually did do a lot of pushing the plot in C1 specifically because she was in game terrified of doing the wrong thing and explored that. Keyleth was, even before they officially began dating, someone whose calls Vax trusted, and she in turn supported him, and that led to (for example) Vox Machina choosing not to ally with the Clasp (which a number of party members supported or were neutral towards) and going after Raishan immediately following Thordak, despite the risk. Keyleth was terrified of making the wrong decision, but crucially, she had a very clear idea of what she wanted to do - she just didn't always believe what she wanted was good, and that conflict is what tripped her up. She was extremely willing to go to the mat over such topics as, for example, pragmatic alliances with dubious people (Raishan); it's just that sometimes this resulted in her being overruled and having to put up with said alliance, and struggling with that.

I don't think it's bad to be a player who wants to go with the flow and explore personal relationships without being a major decision maker. I tend towards being a decisive player, but I do not think it's the only way to be. But this does become an issue when the DM assigns you the role of Decider, and it becomes more of an issue when other players, quite reasonably, had chosen to step back. And I will personally admit - I've repeatedly tried to play laid-back/chaotic characters in D&D and it simply fucking fails. I lack the patience to fuck around endlessly. This is also, frankly, why I don't personally dump intelligence: playing as a character who is not curious and constantly trying to learn about the world simply isn't fun for me. If I were at a table that was going through endless debates with zero progress or resolution like Bells Hells, I have to admit I'd have long since said "hey. Is this...fun for anyone? Because I hate it." and I do not presume to know what the CR Cast thinks of it, and I really believe that "it's our game" means "don't make that presumption" but I can say it's been pretty widely panned among viewers, and it is valid to say "you can do what makes you happy in your game but wow this sucks as a story." And so yes the fact that the people who usually cut that kind of discussion short have stepped back, and the people who are reluctant to cut that type of discussion short are the ones who ultimately must make the decisions is, undeniably, a factor here.

Honestly, I and others have called this the third character dip or similar things and I think it's fair to say that a lot of cast members are, or were, in this campaign, either playing to their weak spot or avoiding a party-carrying personal strength. Players like Liam, Travis, or Marisha (or, to give a few other well-known examples, Emily Axford, Aabria Iyengar, and Lou Wilson) are in my experience less common in the same way that DMs are less common than players. It's more work, more responsibility, and people are more likely to blame you if something goes wrong. And I get that it can feel like you are steamrolling quieter players, and I do think talk away from the game table is important to ensure you aren't, but much of the time, when I've talked to people, they've been like "no, I would like to play someone who is a huge dumbass who can go off and goof around [paraphrased, and I mean this affectionately; I am thinking specifically of my brother's sweet summer INT 8 half-orc monk-barbarian] and I appreciate that you are filling a role that I would not pesonally find fun" (I also specifically like playing healers/support and DON'T like playing burst damage).

I do want to note, and I did this elsewhere: this hesitancy is nowhere to be found when I've seen Ashley and Laura (and various other players who are at times less bold - Sam being an obvious example) play in shorter form works. Arlo Black is a standout in Candela; both Tris and Emhira were fantastic. This is part of why I think an extended short-form only break would be good after this campaign ends. I do think it is ultimately a flaw of the campaign for forcing Fearne and Imogen into these positions when I do not think it's what the players really wanted for the characters (again, speculative); but like, they are in those positions, and the time to have said something was a while ago. I mean if that's the theme - that it's unfair and unkind you shouldn't have to be the one who makes the choice - that's fine, but the thematically apt thing to do is to make the choice anyway, with intent.

[chaoticrage99]

The Veil Between Love and Death 1.5 (Percy’s POV)

CW: angst, mentions of de@th, Percy is possessed for a bit, Percy uses The List aka his pepperbox

Whitestone.

Once a beautiful and thriving place and home to my family and I, now a place of death and filled with dread and sorrow. The Briarwoods took everything away from me and have done this to the people of Whitestone…they will pay for their crimes against us.

Managing to start a revolution with my dear friend Archie to help restore faith and hope to the people of Whitestone and two names removed from the barrel of my gun, the party, my sister, and I had made it into the dungeons of Whitestone castle.

After seeing Ripley and having my body taken over by the smoke and the deep-seated urge to kill her on the spot, I was lucky enough to have Y/N snap me out of it along with my sister. Y/N has always been able to help me in a bind or whenever I need to calm myself it seemed like they knew how to help. Granted I still wanted her to pay for what she had done all these years but we continued our way to the zigguraut to finish this once and for all.

What I didn’t expect was the sudden betrayal of the one who was most important to me and who I hold dear.

My sister.

As soon as I had gotten her she suddenly was taken from me by those blasted Briarwoods again. Oh, they would certainly pay for ever hurting my family and their blood will be spilled by my hands or my name isn't Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III.

We will make sure of it Young Percival. Let’s finish what we have started.

That voice that I’ve come to know since the day I built this gun. I told the party about my past and what happens when I see someone from my dreaded past and the smoke appears. They think that something is corrupting my soul but as of right now, I can’t think about that. We have something we came here to do and it will be finished, one way or another.

The fighting at the ziggurat ended with Sylus being burned by Keylth’s sun with help from the Suntree and Grog.

That was supposed to be our kill! They took it from us! They will not take this one away, Percival.

Delilah tried to bring him back and summoned a black orb that canceled any and all magic, almost killing Keyleth in the process. Luckily, the further away we were from the orb, our magic came back and Vax and Scanlan were able to bring her back from the brink of death.

I dragged Delilah all the way back to the once acid-filled room and began interrogating her. The black smoke had begun enveloping me and the voice mixed with my own. The party had noticed that there was something happening with me and tried to help me, Vex’ahlia included. She took off my mask and I remember hearing her to come back to us but the voice…that damned voice wouldn’t allow it and suddenly I was enveloped in smoke and darkness, my body not moving on my own accord.

My subconscious going through people who had betrayed me and turned against me, and seeing my sister be shot from behind as we had been running away from the Briarwoods. I shot at everyone and anyone that I saw whose name was inscribed on my gun.

I suddenly heard my sister’s voice and aimed my weapon at her, my hand shaking a bit. I heard her talking about how she wanted to help and Vex and Y/N appeared next to her. They were trying to help me break free from Orthrax’s hold on me. My gun kept spinning showing different names branded on the barrel and suddenly I shot when I saw movement. I looked up and saw who I had shot.

Y/N…

“Percy…” I heard them speak softy before falling to the ground

No! Not them!

“No!” I say as I shoot my hand and Orthax screeches out and releases from my body. “Y/N!” I race over to her body that had gone limp and the light from her eyes slowly fading. “Gods, Y/N…I’m so sorry…” I say as I hold their body close and trying to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on the wound.

“Percy, we need to get them out of here now, or they will die!” I heard Keyleth say to me and before I knew it, I felt Grog pick up their body and carry them out from beneath the palace along with us following close behind.

The healers came and took Y/N to the med bay to prepare for surgery. I wanted to go with them but I was held back by Vax and Grog, struggling to get past them with tears streaming down my face.

“Percy, let them do what they need to do. If you went back in there now, you would only feel more guilty than you do right now. We’re here for you, and we’re all worried about them, but as of right now, we need to wait,” Vax says to me in a stern and calm tone.

I nod before sitting down in a nearby chair, head in my hands, wondering if they would be alright. My party and sister surrounded me and gave me as much support as I needed but the question that swirled in my head and caused me to stay awake was…

Would they ever forgive me for what I had done to them?

Hey guys! Firstly, @undertale-anomaly20 thank you for the idea for writing Percy’s POV. I hope this came out well. Secondly, i apologize for this getting out really late, I’ve been really busy with work and also kinda writers block. I hope you all enjoy this and I will be writing the next part soon. Also I am getting to requests if you guys have any, slowly but surely. Anyways, I love you guys and I hope you guys enjoy! Also if you would like to see/request other things other than Vox Machina, please send in some requests ^~^

[suntiger745]

Well well, that was certainly an interesting trip... An excellent trio of episodes to finish the season. The more I see of the animated show, the more appropriate the legend part of the Legend of Vox Machina feels. Things progress generally more smoothly, storywise. We get to see things we didn't see in the campaign. Events sometimes happen in a different order. Some things are outright different. We also loose some of the depth the messiness and more time for the characters to grow that the campaign's longer timeline of events brought. Appropriate I suppose. But even so, the heart of it is always there.

Tying the earth ashari trial that we never saw to the searching and finding of Raishan was a neat combination. Also big props to Marisha Ray for the range of anger, vulnerability, panic, acceptance and confidence Keyleth went through in episodes 10 and 11. It was also great to see Raishan's plan realized, which she never managed in the campaign (also, very cool lair actions). Raishan calling Keyleth a child was a nice bit of dragon arrogance. And to be fair, Raishan is old and very smart. Perhaps with time as she learned about her new dracolich body she would have been able to withstand or repel the cursed disease that Keyleth transferred into her. But not when the body was so new and she was still getting used to it. Nature is good at breaking down flesh and sinew after all, and the death curse was targeted specifically at Raishan. Vex'ahlia and Vax'ildan going after Ripley was cool. A look into the past almost, when the twins were on their own and getting involved with the seedy underbelly of civilization. A nice nod to Vax's Clasp connection. And of course Vex'ahlia getting the final blow on Ripley.

A detail people might not think about in all the vengeance quests, demon abilities, gunfire and Ripley meeting her end is that some people survived that. And they know about firearms now. And it's a safe bet there is at least a few other stashes of guns wherever that ship has its home base. The cat is well and truly out of the bag now when it comes to guns proliferating across Exandria. Not with the same push and quality as if Ripley was still alive, but still. That's important for the world setting, even if it won't impact Vox Machina's story much (though it might yet, we'll see).

The search for Percy's soul and the way they did the resurrection ritual was very cool as well. I liked the way they showed several of the people present contribute to the ritual and Laura Bailey of course killed it again with Vex'ahlia baring her heart to Percy's spirit.

I don't think the markings on Vax's arm is the Matron's doing though. I think it's merely an effect of going through with the ritual, especially for a soul imprisoned by a demon. More likely than the Matron of Ravens punishing Vax, I think that corruption/disease in his arm is either Orthax's final spiteful "gift" to Vax'ildan for ruining his day or simply a touch of death that will mark him as he was the catalyst to bring back a soul already dead for several days.

The Matron did warn him of consequences for going through with the ritual. I also suspect Vax will still consider it worth it.

Also very interesting how they split the group, at least for a while. It's not the Bard's Lament when Scanlan leaves, but perhaps something like it will instead come this time when they ask him to return to Vox Machina to fight the new threat.

And yet another example of where the Legend is different from what we saw in the campaign. Less painful and more smooth. So far, there might be a realy gut punch coming from Scanlan yet.

Still very curious to see where the story goes with Pike as well. And maybe we'll get our first Keyteor in the next season. Speaking of, is it season 4 yet? ;)

[pocketgalaxies]

FOR REALLL RE: WHEN MATT ASKED IF ANYONE WANTED TO DO ANYTHING. And then, when they went to Keyleth and Orym said "we want to be useful in the downtime"... my jaw fucking dropped. You all JUST got back from aeor, and right before that you got back from the moon - where your friend fucking DIED. No one wants to process any of that??

From how Matt had framed it, the feywild meeting between Ludinus and the Unseelie was an optional mission they could have delegated to NPCs, yet they jumped right into it with no prep or plan.

[And ohhh, the instant amnesia about why they were there. It was like they completely forgot the intent of the mission, and when Dorian raised that point ("is this what we are here for? To fight?") They all just shrugged and acted like there was no other choice!] I love them all dearly, so my frustration is borne of concern (they just walked into a HUGE fucking fight they are ill prepared for), and I am TERRIFIED Fearne will die now because of it. But also, I wonder - do they even want to be in this campaign anymore?

The way they keep rushing forward...maybe it's bc they've been conditioned by the rest of this campaign's pacing. Part of me feels it's Orym. This whole campaign it's felt like he's been using his pushing attack on the team. [Telling them early on (ep 30s) they need to promise him to be better together, forever reminding them of the ticking clock which means they need to get to Yios, to the malleus key, to reunite post-solstice. Then, an hr into the reunion: they need to keep going to address things "fast and fully". They need to get to Keyleth, to the moon, to stay on the moon even if it's risky bc "it isn't a vacation." Oop Letters died, but let's get back to keyleth, now we need to go to aeor, back to keyleth, and after all of that...well they need to "be useful in the downtime"! That might be too uncharitable? I don't know.

Above the table, I think they are all overworked from making two animated series, running a company, and their professional work outside of CR. It seems like too much. Like they need a break, and maybe subconsciously are running headlong to the finish so they can finally have one. I don't begrudge them that, but it does make me sad for these specific characters that they've been so constrained by the plot.]

yeah for sure, the campaign is sharing space with a million other responsibilities when it used to be The Flagship the single most significant project they were working on. i think it's very likely that both animated series are perceived as a higher priority than the campaign now given the budget, wider audience, etc. which just kinda sucks when the campaign also requires the highest level of emotional and time investment out of all of those projects

orym has definitely played a role in the Always Business No Pleasure vibe of the campaign but i guess i hesitate to put that much blame on him, i think the overall story has been go go go and orym is largely a reflection of that. but also i do agree that it certainly isn't helping and many ppl have made more eloquent posts than i ever could about the space his grief has been allowed in comparison to other aspects of other characters and how that has affected the party and the campaign overall

i really do wish they could've taken this week to recuperate, do something for themselves. literally anything. go shopping. any loose ends they would want to tie up before going into a battle to the death. but they either don't have connections to outside npcs or those connections simply aren't prominent enough. relvin, milo, birdie and ollie, family in zephrah, dariax, etc.? anyone?? imogen v. groon battle was sitting right there? and i just don't understand the necessity of adding in this ludinus unseelie situation it seems like something extraneous that the story could've gone entirely without and now it's just another Thing they have to do?

ANYWAY just struggling a lot about all these things! having a great time!!