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lewis-winters · 10 months ago

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Day 13: Fear

Part of my OC-tober 2022 (that will get fucking finished in 2024 so help me god)! Well. We're indulging this time around with some Baldur's Gate 3 on my Band of Brothers/HBO War Blog. I guess. Honestly, with how many OCs I have in other fandoms, I might just start playing around with them for this prompt list, too!

tw: If you're starting to notice a pattern in my writing with parenthood, in iterations of both problematic or good, uuuuuhhhh no you fucking don't.

They’ve been sitting by the fire in the Elfsong tavern for a whole of hour, in perfect silence, before Jaheira chooses to break it. “You will not return upstairs.”

It’s not a question. Still, Pasiphaë answers it as one. “Not until they’re all in bed. I’ve no patience right now,” she tells her with a deep sigh. “For anyone or myself. I… do not like who I was today.”

Belligerent. Jumpy. Too slow to react, too impulsive in her decisions. Near unrecognizable, as compared to her original cool and collected demeanor at the beginning of their journey. She expected better of herself, and her companions definitely deserved better than the kind of mess she’s become. But they’ve been running on near fumes for the past few days, having been tossed about here and there by Mystra, Shar, Lorroakan, cultists, Orin, and Cazador, all alike. On top of that, Serafina had decided to join in on their quest, despite Pasiphaë’s explicit orders for her to get out of the city while she still could��truly, there was a time when her sweet little girl would obey her with no question, but alas! she’s inherited her other mother’s bullheaded-ness. Pun intended. Not for the first time, Pasiphaë found herself wishing that Melisandre were still around to share in her pride over their daughter’s immense bravery. The abrupt reminder of what she no longer had—after several months of not thinking about Mel even once—had been enough to throw her off her rhythm completely. The day had already started being kind of shit.

Ulder Ravengard and his unfortunate decision to mouth off about his son’s new appearance was the last straw.

“I lost my temper.” The verbal dressing down was spectacular while it was happening. Invigorating, even. Pasiphaë doesn’t remember the last time she’s felt such catharsis. After the months of non-stop action, it was good to release it all.

It was the stunned silence afterward that felt particularly… damned. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Bah, he deserved it,” Jaheira scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “He is better off for listening to your wisdom.”

“Calling whatever that was ‘wisdom’ is too generous.”

“But it is what it is: a mother’s wisdom.”

Pasiphaë snaps; “I’m not Wyll’s mother,” and Jaheira tilts her head back and lets out a hearty HA! loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons.

“You are not just his mother, that is for sure,” Jaheira says, wagging an admonishing finger at her. “All of them seem to have attached themselves to you like little suckling pups to a bitch’s teats.”

“Your metaphors leave much to be desired, Jaheira.”

“You were protecting your pup, is what I mean,” Jaheira shrugs. “Even if it is from his own blood. Wyll holds you under no contempt for such a display. I may even go so far as to say that he’s grateful for it.”

“Perhaps.” Oh, but Wyll loves his father so—even when the man has done nothing but abandon him. Pasiphaë knows it isn’t right to get between father and son, not as a simple party member, and most certainly not while one still holds out hope for reconciliation. She might’ve just ruined Wyll’s chances back there, with her vindictive nature and even sharper tongue. If she had, would he ever forgive her?

As if reading her thoughts, Jaheira tsks. “We mothers, we always want what is best for our children. Nobody can fault us for that.” There’s a small smile on her face; a tiny quirk of the corner of her lip that feels conspirative. Like they’re in on a joke together.

Technically, they are. Pasiphaë smiles back. Or tries to. “Whatever you say.”

Their conversation, once again, falls to silence. Patrons come and go, and the tavern keeper’s boy comes once and twice to stoke the fires until, finally, they fizzle out into glowing embers. The night grows even quieter soon after, with the patrons quickly disappearing out the door, or into other rooms, until, finally, it is just them, and the occasional drunkard outside.

“You can go. Rest,” Pasiphaë says, aware that it is late. Tomorrow (later?), they are to confront Gortash. “We’ll need all our strength come morning.”

“You are determined to keep vigil.”

“Someone has to.”

“If I were to climb up those stairs, I would not be surprised to see some of your pups waiting for you by their fire,” Jaheira chuckles, standing up with an exaggerated groan—her knees are not what they used to be. “No doubt, they will send me back down again—or even come down themselves—if I return empty handed. Come, now.”

She offers her hand.

Pasiphaë stares at it.

Something in her chest shudders with anxiety and—is it her imagination? The tadpole behind her eye, wriggling with a sordid kind of glee?

“I fear I cannot be to them what they need me to be, Jaheira.”

Jaheira frowns, confused. Still, she keeps her hand out. “And what is that?”

What, indeed? A leader? With the amount of times she’s failed them? Perish the thought. A caretaker? Barely. Her hands are not made for healing, anymore. Certainly not with the Triad’s silence and her simmering resentment over it. And what comfort she could give is quickly dwarfed by the enormity of all their suffering. What use is a lullaby, when she couldn’t even hold Karlach enough to soothe her tears? What use is her sword, when it can scarcely keep Lae’zel from the betrayal of her kin, queen, and god? Clearly, Pasiphaë couldn’t even call herself a protector—just two days ago, she’d failed to protect Astarion from his worst possible self, leaving the burden to Gale, instead; and just last tenday, Shar had taken from Shadowheart her last connection to her past, while all Pasiphaë could do was helplessly watch. Hells, she certainly couldn’t protect Wyll, who only ever looked to her for wisdom and guidance. Or even Gale, whose final decision haunts them all—Astarion, especially, who has begged her over and over again to make Gale see reason. But how could she, when all she could think about is his fate as both Faithless and Discarded? She understands too well the challenge that lays before him to possibly talk him out of his task in any way that matters. The blasted Wall remains a prominent phantom in Gale’s mind as much as hers; but while she’s resigned to her own fate, that doesn’t mean he should be, too.

Gods, but what will she tell Morena, then? Tara? Astarion? That she let their beloved boy die, simply because the folly of the gods and their selfish nature was too strong for her to fight? No. That would not do.

And yet. She hesitates.

“If I am their mother, as you say I am,” she tells Jaheira. “I am a shit mother. My Melisandre would be ashamed to see how poorly of a mother I am being.”

Jaheira knits her brows together. “Your partner?”

“Yes.” Her beloved. The mother of her children. The balm to her soul. The light in her darkness; Pasiphaë is never going to see her again. “She was always better at this than I—my children—I was never—”

“Serafina seems to adore you.”

“Now,” Pasiphaë entreats, feeling the blasted tadpole wriggle and squirm behind her stupid eyes the more distressed she becomes. “I have failed her before, terribly, and it was only time that allowed those wounds to heal. Time is not on my side, now. If I fail them—when I fail them—”

She stops. She cannot bear to think of it. But it is inevitable. “I fear that it is not a matter of if, but when I fail them, Jaheira. I am cursed to repeat my mistakes. And when I do… gods when I do…”

“You will not.”

“You are a fool to—”

“Ha!” Jaheira barks, snatching back her offered hand to reach out and shake Pasiphaë by the shoulders. Like she were a kitten being pulled back by her scruff. Gone is the amicable, conspiratorial smile, replaced thoroughly by a stern glare. “It is you who is the fool to let such thoughts paralyze you!” She lets her go, wags a finger in her face, “you have fallen out of practice in the art of seeing yourself as what you are. What you are truly capable of.”

“But I am capable of failure!”

“And you are capable of triumph!” Jaheira snaps, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Why are you so determined to fail?”

Pasiphaë blinks. Blinks again. Something hot rolls down her cheeks and she scrubs at them with her hands. They come away wet.

“You said, once, that you are destined for the Wall of the Faithless. This is the truth. In many ways, you are,” Jaheira continues, kneeling on the ground so as to catch her eyes. “But you are not dead yet. Your pups are not dead yet. Pull it together; you must see this—if not for yourself, then for them.”

For them. Yes. For them. Children are only as resilient as their parents, Melisandre used to say. Whisper in her ear, when the worst of the grief had taken over as their baby girl cooled in her arms. Phaedra is gone, but Xenodius and Serafina yet live. For them, Pasiphaë had rallied. Taken up what strength she had left, and trudged forward.

Get up, she thinks Melisandre would say, now. Get up, my love. They are hurt, but they are yet living. Get up.

“I wish I had your wisdom,” Pasiphaë says, finally, after a long moment of silence. It comes out in a croak, barely a whisper, barely even words. Still, she manages a small smile. “True mother’s wisdom.”

Jaheira tsks. But slowly, she too returns a smile. “You have it. As I said: you are just… out of practice. Come, now,” again, she gets up on her creaky knees with an exaggerated groan.

And offers her hand. “Your pups might sleep better, knowing that their mother is nearby.”

This time, Pasiphaë takes it. “Their bitch of a mother?”

Jaheira laughs. Laughs and laughs, even as she pulls Pasiphaë toward the stairs and their camp. It’s loud and bawdy and definitely a great disturbance. But it does sound like music, and Pasiphaë likes hearing it. “Just so!”

Pasiphaë Elago is my Tav. She's a moon-elf, and a Paladin of Ilmater/the Triad turned Godless Paladin-- it's a long story. She's named Pasiphaë because her late wife, Melisandre, was a druid whose wild shape was a bull. I think I'm funny. Before the events of BG3, she was an adventurer in her own right, and is technically retired and is literally broaching 500 by the time she's kidnapped by the Ilithids. That being said, because she's so old and had just lost her wife a few years prior, she doesn't romance the BG3 characters but accidentally adopts them all during their whole tadpole ordeal. Oh make no mistake, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae'zel tried to hit that, but she shut that down so fast-- "Some of you are as old as my eldest grandchild. It's awkward." Team Mom! Total GILF!! And also!! suffering. Help her, she thought she was done having to parent like this after watching 2 of her 3 children (the last died during the Spellplague) grow up, move out, and make families of their own. She's supposed to be RETIRED, damnit. She's trying so hard. She just wants a NAP.

Speaking of Greek Myths, isn't it funny that Astarion shares a name with the Minotaur? I swear, I didn't think of that before naming Pasiphaë. I did, however, think of it when naming Ariadne Ancunin, my other BG3 OC, who happens to also be Astarion's biological sister. The name's important. Ariadne gave Theseus the power to kill her Minotaur brother, after all. But that's for another day entirely.

None of this makes sense to any of you. That's fine. It's for ME.

#stella's oc-tober 2022 #estrella_marie #there's bloodweave in this because I Care Them unfortunately #my stuff always revolves around the flaws found in parenthood and I don't want to... think too hard about that right now!!!!!#and this is more telling than actually showing lmao im so sorry #i had to cram so much into this just to explain pasiphae's psyche and like in the end it just sorta. fucks off a cliff.#i just wanted to get this done so i could work on the hanahaki au lmaaaoooo im so sorry #pasiphaë elago #not hbo war

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chronicles-of-kats-dnd-game · 1 year ago

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Lost Mine & Abyss Session 12 - Oh Worm?

-As Zoream looks over the strange new gem (and argues with Sen over rights to the hoard), Vierna continues upstairs to inspect the old wizard study, Dakwert's gem in hand. The place is in ruin, one decoration remaining- a framed child's drawing of two orcs, Zoream and his master.

-Zoream continues up the stairs to his rival looking at his childhood drawing- and the remains of the spellbooks pages pressed into the floor. He takes the drawing from her into his pocket, and inspects the ruined pages. He tells Vierna to investigate them, to see the spell. She recognizes it as a minor summoning spell- nothing more. But the drow still considers an accomplice to a mistake guilty. She uses Dakwert's necklace as a stress ball with her mechanical arm, Dakwert's world creaking and shaking.

-The druid tells the party to give him some space while he attempts to work a spell upon the land. The group takes a short rest in the ruins upstairs, Zoream speaking with the gem of the trapped angel some more as it asks for his help, Sid working on his armor and incorporating the scattered scales of Venomfang (to the side eye of Sen), Vierna continuing to squeeze the necklace as she processes, Sen admiring his new hoard, and Dakwert eventually emerging from the necklace to fix the scratches caused by Vierna's arm. Valark and Vierna conspire together for their return to Menzoberranzan- learning they have a common enemy back home.

-Checking back in on the druid, they find him struggling with the spell, having made seemingly little progress. He says a great evil has resided here, and it will take some time to purify- but he should have made enough progress to step away temporarily.

-The party returns to the Neverwinter Wood, Reidoth magically speeding their travel along. Sid watches the forest nervously with the axe's enchantments intruding on his mind, while Sen watches the sky, relieved for the forest's cover from searching eyes. Sid passes around the axe to give a hit of tree anxiety to everyone. How bad could it possibly be?

The druid agrees to lead them to the castle, but not come with them. As the ruined stone structure finally comes into sight, Reidoth stays to watch over the cart while the party steps off. He tells them when they return, he will lead them to Wave Echo Cave.

-Creak begs them them to charge saying she could take them, while Zoream discusses a plan of disguise, as others continue to discuss sending the original party in as prisoners. Looking around the castle, they discover a crumbling wall to enter through. Zoream and Sen cast spells to disguise themselves as a bugbear and hobgoblin. Vierna puts on the purple Tiamat cultist cloak, Dakwert hiding under it. Sid passes as Bearbug, Zoream's deformed brother. A plan half formed, they enter the castle.

-They pass through the goblin barracks, Sen swiping some of their few belongings for his collection. They find a concerning bag of bones and scales, labeled as belonging to "Ek." Sen takes all of these. Continuing on, they pass through the side tower to enter the main entrance.

-Zoream notices a wire shimmering through the light before the door ahead, warning the party back. Backing up to check the door before it, Sid opens the door to a pitch black room with a goblin's reflective eyes staring out at them from a shrine, holding a knife and warning them back from his pet as something slithers above. Sid quickly closes the door.

-Sen throws a rock towards the trapped floor, the stone quickly crumbling beneath it. The slithering from the shrine room rapidly approaches from below, the party hearing a hiss of frustration as it finds nothing. The party makes their way carefully around it to the other side. Valark glances at it while passing, backing away and commenting that its something from his home.

-Zoream: "must be comforting, then" Valark: "not particularly." Zoream: "is there anything that comforts you guys?" Vierna: "Justice."

-Opening the next door, the party walks in on seven hobgoblins feasting in a dining hall, wielding swords and armor. "Bugbear the Wise" speaks up, saying he's new and here about the bounty. When asked who let him in, he gives Ek's name- prompting an immediate negative reaction. Vierna steps forward showing the bounty and the dragonborn- while the hobgoblins decide to simply take the credit instead. Roll initiative!

-Sid's Spirit Guardians leap forward at the attacking hobgoblins, Vierna slashes at the ones in front of her ending one on her halberd, Valark throws an excited Creak towards a hobgoblin as it meets its demise via delighted goblin, and Zoream and Dakwert wear them down with spells.

-The hobgoblins defeated, Sen starts dragging their bodies over to the hole. "Glory to Ek," Bugbear the Wise shouts, as a voice from the shrine room thanks him. They shout through the walls as the creature hisses in delight from beneath, the goblin eventually inviting them in for tea. Everyone becomes much less enthusiastic.

-Sen and Zoream enter the shrine room, still disgusied as a bugbear and hobgoblin, Ek inviting them to take a seat and introduce themselves. They get along, then speak of their plan to overthrow the king- irritating Ek as the King has been accepting of him, and he doesn't really want the place improved. He likes it dark and crumbling, and works for him willingly for free. He suggests they drink some tea and relax.

-Ek continues to pressure the two to drink his tea as they talk, tapping his fingers in an unheard signal to the distracted grick. Sen takes a cautious drink, resisting its affects through his heritage, while Zoream downs it as a power move and is immediately knocked unconscious. Oops.

-The grick finally finishes feasting and slithers overhead, going for a strike at the still-standing Sen from the ceiling as Ek apologizes and speaks of his loyalty to his king. The worm creature circles Sen but finds no hold on him. As it hisses at him, the half-dragon turns and spits a Poison Spray down its beak.

-Hearing the sounds of combat, Sid opens the door to the shrine room with the rest of the party behind him, Spirit Guardians at the ready. The spectral dwarves charge forward and swiftly annihilate the combatants, the grick's body falling on top of Sen.

-Inspecting the grick, Sid removes the clawed ends of its tentacles to forge into daggers, while Sen and the now-awakened Zoream split open the creature and attempt to eat it. Its bad.

The door to the next room opens to a towering bugbear flanked by two hobgoblin guards looking down at the party in disappointment. He tells the party that if they are done tearing apart his castle, that he would like to have a talk with them- in the throne room. Met with the King of Cragmaw Castle, this session comes to a close!

#October 23 2023 #session recaps #Lost Mine and Abyss #lost mine of phandelver #lmop #dnd

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spartanblacksmith · 3 years ago

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DND story time. Long post.

Well, here I am, dressed in red cultist garb, covering my red dragon scaled armor, sword, and shield, trying not to draw attention to myself as I worry about my party of 4, chained up in the middle of the room, surrounded by 8 cultists, 4 elite guard, and their boss, Asher the Fire witch, her arm around my waist. How did I get here? Well...

We were sent in on a rescue mission. A party of five soldiers of the order was sent to scout this dragon cults hideout. They never returned. The Order of the Guantlett hire us outsiders to save them.

A party of 5, a human fighter-bard, a teifling warlock, an elf rogue, a human ranger, and me, a red dragonborn sorcerer-fighter

We hop through a portal, provided by the order, and land on a cliff a short distance to the hideout. But we run into a few patrolling trolls.

A fight later, we're sneaking around a mansion to slip into the kitchens in the back. We had decided to not engage the whole army of cultists, trolls, kolbolds, and the boss and her elite guard. We'd leave that to the order as they attack this hideout in full force next week.

We stealth around some trolls outside, we slip past some kolbold servants in the kitchen (here I observed a kolbold give a salute), we sneak past a laundry room, and we enter a study. Two cultists in robes spot us, but our rouge quickly places knives next to their throats to stop them from doing something bad. Not bad sneaking for some dudes in a bunch of armor.

We sit them down and try to get some info. We learn their names and that their boss has some powerful fire magic, but then one throws his dagger at us and his friend punches a button on the statue in the corner. It comes to life and the two of them escape into a painting that is another portal that was disguised as a painting.

I start fighting the statue when our rogue gets an idea.

To chase them through the painting.

He hops through, then the warlock hops through too. Then the fighter and ranger leave me with the statue and hop through too. But the ranger accidentally knocked a candle into the paintings side, destroying it and it's magic.

I'm looking at them blankly out of character and I kill the statue.

It clunks to the ground loudly and alerts the mansion. I'm scrambling, separated from my party.

Idea.

I throw a hand axe through the window and I run into the laundry room and hop into a whole pile of robes, covering myself up.

I hear cultists running through the room. In the pile, I start stitching together some robes into one for a big guy like me.

As for what's happening to the other members of my party, they were transported 2 days away from the mansion, in the middle of the woods. They took out the two fleeing cultists, but needed to travel their way back.

An hour later of hopping in, I hop out of the pile of red robes and start walking around the mansion, looking for the prisoners. I make several of my deception rolls, then I accidentally run into the boss, the Fire witch, strolling through the kitchens for a snack.

A young looking human lady named Asher wearing black and red armor, holding a magical piece of obsidian in a wand holster and a sword on her hip.

She eyes me, wondering if I'm a new member. I lie and say yes. Nat 20. Everyone believes me. Then she gives a salute and spoke a draconic phrase. I give back the salute I had observed, and lucky I'm a dragonborn, so I could return the phrase. She wonders why I'm in full gear, and I explain that I was a mercenary before Darby (One of the cultists that ran out the painting) recruited me. She seems pleased with my introduction.

Then the DM, my friend, gets funny with me.

Asher looks me up and down and smiles. "Come with me", she says, "time for your...second initiation." We head upstairs to her quarters. You know where this is going. Two days and a broken headboard later, my party finally gets to the area again.

Then disaster strikes.

Rather than use the spell message to contact me, they leave me asleep in Asher's chambers and try to sneak in at night.

The ranger tries to sneak in through a hole in the roof. The rogue tried to disguise themselves as a cultist by recreating the robes, but his character didn't take note of the salute. The fighter and the warlock try to fly up to the chimney.

But a big battle eagle and his handler is in the room the ranger hopped into. He's knocked unconscious and captured.

The Rogue tries to talk his way past the troll patrol. They ask for the salute. He fails. They capture him.

The fighter is jammed in the chimney and the warlock flys into a second story window to help him through. Straight into the elite guards quarters. They get captured.

Then they're all gathered into the main hall to interrogate them.

In the two days my character has been there, he has become Asher's favorite, so she has me do it. I try to not beat up the warlock too much, but I gotta make it look convincing. Then he spits at me, making for good theater. Then the rogue takes a knife out of his boot and tried to stab me. I knock him to the ground and take his knife.

And here we are.

Asher has us strip them of their gear and they are placed in the same dungeon the other 5 scouts are. Now I gotta save all 9 of them. The Order of the Guantlett was going to attack in five days, so I decide to make my move then, during the chaos.

I decide to get cozy at Asher's side, to make sure she stays in a good mood and does not kill my party.

5 days past, and I'm working on my plan.

The night before, I snuck some sleeping powder into Asher's ale. Then the next morning, I got dressed, armored up, exchanged a few spell messages with the order commander, and went downstairs.

Her elite guard were lurking around, as usual. I say hi to a few of the cultists and head to the kitchens. I intercepted the kolbolds about to give the prisoners their food. I tell them I'm going to do it. They give me the tray, I head down the secret passage to the dungeon.

When I'm down, my party gives me hard time about taking so long. I take out my bag of holding, holding all their gear I snuck out of the treasure rooms, the scouts as well. I remind them who got stuck in the chimney. We have a good laugh and I go back upstairs alone. I tell them I'm going to take Asher into the forest to 1 v 1 her.

As they're getting dressed and tuning their magic items, I tell one of the elite guard about the attack that the order of the Guantlett is about to launch. I tell them that Asher has taken the trolls to prepare for a fight, and that I was to tell the guard to join her. They head out, but they're going to be ambushed by the Guantlett army.

My party takes the scouts and battles their way past the cultists and trolls. The scouts fight the few cultists and the party hits the trolls. The kolbold servants run away. After the fight, they rendezvous with the Guantlett order, who are still fighting the remaining elite guard. They're finished off with a few good Eldritch blasts from the warlock.

After they leave, I head upstairs, pick up Asher, and go into the eagle room (which was next door to her room and no one saw).

As for me, my character disappears for a few days as I take Asher to my home while flying on the battle eagle.

Yeah, my character fell for her. During the flight, Asher wakes up. I convince Asher that her guard was gonna kill her in her sleep, so I got her out of there, and convince her to give up the cult life. So I put her up in my house as my characters love interest, and head back to my party.

Tldr: We sneak into a cult hideout and I steal the boss and make her my girlfriend rather than kill her.

#dnd story #dnd storytime #dnd #sorry long post

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friendshipcampaign · 4 years ago

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Sanctuary

Sometimes you’re a DM and you think, “Hm! I’m having a lot of emotions about a conversation between two NPCs that none of my player characters would be around for! Perhaps I shall write a short drabble!” and then then next thing you know you’re well over 4k words deep into your OCs Talking About Their Feelings. Well: here are those words.

NPC downtime between Demonology Prevention League agents Creed and Thodri, set during the street festival in Veritas the day after the Friendship Campaign party banished the demons from the city.

The streets of Veritas were filled with the sounds of reveling. Bonfires crackled and the foods roasting on them sizzled and dripped. Stallkeepers hawked and haggled and called out to each other. Music drifted through the square, accompanied by the stomping and shouting of the dancers. Every few moments, someone decided to raise a tankard in a cheer, which would echo through the crowd before getting lost in the tumult. Everything was loud and bright and everyone was celebrating.

Thodri didn’t trust it for a minute.

She scanned the crowds around her as she and Creed made their way to the watch-house the DPL had commandeered as a temporary headquarters, looking for—she didn’t know. A familiar face that shouldn’t be there? A demon that had somehow escaped the Banishment? Some magical trap left untriggered in the previous day’s battle—or a freshly placed one?

Creed, strolling along beside her, didn’t seem to have any such worries.

“You wouldn’t believe the kind of decorations they have upstairs! Y’know, a lot of houses like that, they put the most impressive stuff out where they can show it off to everyone who comes in, but that place just gets more opulent the farther you go!”

Thodri grunted, pretending that she’d been listening to her companion’s non-stop chatter about the Zisisvoynis’ decór. She supposed it was easier to appreciate its opulence when your first visit there wasn’t for a party where your tentative allies had decided to attempt to trap a bunch of murderous cultists. With a dragon. It was probably also easier if you were Creed, who had much more of a taste for extravagance than she ever would.

“It’s nothing like the main hoard, of course, and the location of that is one of those if-I-tell-you-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you secrets—”

Thodri flinched. Focus. She needed to focus. The square was too large to keep all of it in her sights and they were drawing near the middle now, the crowd pressing close on all sides. She didn’t like the feeling of so many strangers at her back.

“—But I did get a few stories about some of the artifacts. Not just gold—apparently Oktojnotviš has an ongoing feud with some other dragons over these historical Draconic texts that they each have one section of. They’re all trying to get the complete collection, but since they’re written on twenty-foot-high slabs of stone that were cut from an ancient cave wall there’s been a wee bit of trouble with that.”

The bonfire burning behind the skeletal remnants of the elephant-demon cast flickering shadows over the bones that looked just enough like movement when caught from the corner of her eye that Thodri kept snapping her head around to look. No. The bones were still. Dead. Parts of them were still tethered to the ground by long pieces of jagged wire.

“Hey.”

Creed lowered his arms, which he’d been waving as he spoke in his customary sweeping gestures. Thodri always joked that he could never visit her home caverns under the mountains because with the way he walked he’d end up bruising his hands—and his head—black and blue in the dwarf-sized tunnels.

“You doing all right, Footnotes?”

“I’m fine,” Thodri retorted, continuing to wind her way through the square so that despite his long legs, Creed had to half-skip a few steps to catch up to her.

“Well, something must be wrong because I was just telling you about some extremely old and interesting writings and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

“There’s a lot to do.” More shouts rang out from behind them, and Thodri whirled just in time to see a burly woman with a barrel of ale on her shoulder raise up her hand in a cheer. All right. No threat. She turned back to Creed.

“. . . And now you’re sounding like Aurelia.”

“I am not—” Thodri snapped, before catching herself and letting out a long, tense sigh. “I’m . . . worried. That’s all.”

“About?”

Thodri threw up her hands. “I don’t know! Everything? Somebody has to be since you’re acting like you don’t have a care in the world!”

She glared out into the crowd again. She couldn’t lose focus. Couldn’t miss anything. She could hear Creed’s footsteps beside her as the two of them walked in silence for a moment, making it out to where the crowd was thinner. She felt nervous about leaving the square unwatched, but they had to get on to where Aurelia was waiting and see what information they could get out of yesterday’s captives. If there was some other plot yet to be sprung . . .

“Are you . . . mad at me?” Creed asked. She could tell he had his head cocked in confusion but she didn’t look up to meet his eyes.

“No! Maybe! I don’t know!”

“Well, that’s quite the spectrum, certainly. I appreciate you didn’t go straight to ‘yes,’ but—”

“I thought you were dead!” she blurted out.

Creed stopped in his tracks and blinked at her. He looked almost as surprised at her outburst as she was. She stared back at him, wide-eyed, with her hand clapped over her mouth.

“What . . . last night? I didn’t—”

“No!” The blood was rushing in Thodri’s ears and she she could feel the terror she’d been trying to push down all day building within her. She’d lowered her hand to let out the interjection and now without that barrier in place more words were trying to flood out in a torrent she couldn’t control. “You were missing and I thought you were dead and it was my fault and I couldn’t even remember what had happened, and Aurelia kept trying to be so nice to me that I thought I would scream, and the rest of them just stopped talking about you after Ráalu used the past tense once and I had to run out of the room during an interrogation and—”

“Hey.” She felt Creed’s hands settle gently on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right. You got me back, didn’t you?”

“I-I know,” Thodri stammered. “We got you back and I thought maybe I could be less afraid, but I got complacent and let my guard down and that thing that was pretending to be Kasia got me and then I wasn’t—”

She shivered for a moment as she remembered the sensation of mindlessness, of her eyes and ears being as sharp as ever but not being able to make sense of anything she saw and heard, of being stripped of her words and her thoughts and her understanding in a way that made her blanch with fear to recall, but that at the time she hadn’t even been able to comprehend enough to be horrified. That might have been the worst part. That she hadn’t known—hadn’t been able to know—what had happened to her. That once the others had left her curled up with Creed in their pocket dimension she’d felt . . . safe. She’d felt happy.

Creed’s fingernails dug into the back of her shoulders. A few streets over, the musicians finished a song and a distant cheer went up. Thodri’s voice was getting higher and louder and people were probably staring but she couldn’t make herself stop.

“—I wasn’t there and I couldn’t help you and Palava had to call on so much power from his god to get me back and I couldn’t even get any omens—”

She was aware that Creed was speaking, but it felt almost the way speech had when her mind was shattered. The sounds were there but there was no sense to them. She let him push her, gently, back out of the way of the crowd until there was stone at her back and the sounds of the celebration were muffled.

“—and then the creature showed up and I thought—I thought, this is it, this is the thing that’s going to kill us, and it almost felt better because at least I wasn’t wondering anymore, but then Kriv defeated it and we didn’t die and it—it’s over, it’s gone, all the demons are gone and everyone’s celebrating but I don’t . . . I don’t know how to stop being afraid!”

She looked at Creed, helplessly, through burning eyes. He loomed over her, his head cocked to one side and the crystal growths on his left horn glinting in the light.

“It feels like every time I relax something worse happens. And then last night I was trying so hard to feel like we were all safe; I was trying to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, and then you took one look at the most dangerous thing in the room and decided to throw yourself at it and it . . .” she trailed off, the river of words drying up as she wondered how she could convey the sudden, absurd spike of fear that had gripped her, that still thrummed under her skin even though Creed was fine, she was fine, everything was . . .

“It . . . made me afraid again,” she finished lamely.

As the silence stretched out between them, Thodri let her head drop and took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m . . . sorry. I know it’s ridiculous and I know you were probably going to be fine and I need to learn how to pull myself together, and I certainly didn’t mean to go quite so . . . babbly. About everything.”

“Hey.” Creed crouched down so their faces were almost level, still holding her by the shoulders. She’d been expecting him to look . . . frustrated, at least, the sort of expression he wore when Aurelia was being particularly obtuse, and she was ready to flinch away from it, but she could see nothing but concern in his lavender eyes.

Then one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile which Thodri found herself instinctively but tentatively mirroring, and he said, “All right, more than a few points of contention with all that. First things first, I don’t think it’s fair to say I ‘threw myself’ at him, and I’ll have you know I took several looks before I made any decisions.”

Thodri let out a bark of surprised laughter, which she suspected from the way he beamed at her had been Creed’s plan in the first place. He straightened up and pointed towards one of the little green parks behind them.

“Shall we sit down?”

Thodri bit her lip. “I don’t want to keep Aurelia waiting too long . . .”

“Well that does it!” Creed clapped her on the back. “I definitely want to keep Aurelia waiting. She needs the rest. Come on!”

Thodri let Creed lead her around the groups of pedestrians heading to and from the festival and out onto the grass. He found a stone bench—an old one, Thodri noted, but of decent workmanship—and sprawled across one end of it, gesturing for Thodri to join him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were having . . . such a hard time.”

Thodri laughed again, a brittle edge to it.

“I don’t think I did either, honestly. I didn’t realize a lot of it until . . . now, really. I thought I was just being stupid and I could joke about it and I’d calm down. I—I even thought it was working; I had a nice time with Kriv and his goat, but then I tried to go to sleep and I couldn’t stop . . . thinking about all of it. Of being afraid that it was only a matter of time until something worse happened. That—that if I let myself get complacent it would all fall apart.”

“Listen.” Creed stretched an arm along the back of the bench in a clear invitation, but he didn’t touch her. With a sigh, Thodri leaned into him and pulled his arm down around her shoulders. “Of course you’re afraid. It makes sense to be afraid. This city was overrun with demons until just a little before this time yesterday. That’s a lot for anyone to handle, and for weeks of it you didn’t even have me around to help you with my worldly experience and sparkling wit!”

“I . . . I know,” said Thodri. “Again, I’m sorry—”

“Thodri.” Creed loosened the grip of his arm just enough that he could look directly into Thodri’s face. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, love.”

“But I could—”

“We walked into a trap, Thodri. Both of us. I think it was . . .” Creed’s fingers wandered to his symbol of Tymora and began to spin it absently back and forth. “. . . Lucky that I was the one they caught.”

In response to Thodri’s disbelieving snort he continued, “One of us was useful to them. Fuel for the mine. They had reasons to want to keep me alive. Horrifying reasons, I’ll grant you! But reasons nonetheless. If you’d been the one who was trapped . . .”

They sat in silence for a brief moment, and then Creed let go of his holy symbol and smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“Real encouraging talk, this is! Here I was going to try to calm you down and instead I start blabbing about even more things that could have killed you!”

“No, it . . . it’s okay.” Thodri nestled further into his shoulder. “It does make me feel better, actually, in a strange way. I thought Tymora had abandoned you, but maybe she was looking out for both of us after all.”

“Aye.” Creed wrapped his arm tighter around her. “Or maybe she did whiff it and it worked out regardless; that happens too.”

Thodri chuckled. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to your irreverance.”

“Oh, she loves it! Your sort of devotion would be terribly boring to a luck goddess. Can’t show off her powers unless her followers are the sort of people to take big risks.”

Thodri looked up, tracing the dappled outlines of the leaves on the branches above them. She’d been away from the mountains for years, but the trees and the open sky still felt strange to her. They were never as comforting as the darkness of her home had been. She closed her eyes.

“Is that what last night was about, then? Big and completely unnecessary risks?”

She felt Creed shrug. “I suppose. Although I will say that most of the appeal there was being free to take a big risk that wasn’t likely to get me killed if I got it wrong.”

Thodri could feel her heart beginning to pound again, the drumbeat of not-safe-not-safe-not-safe that had haunted her since the night she and Creed had walked into a trap and she alone had come out of it. She let it beat, forcing herself not to hitch her breath to it. It was dark and safe behind her eyelids, and Creed’s arm was warm around her.

“I think . . . after everything being so dangerous for so long, it’s hard to feel like anything might not be a matter of deadly peril.” She contemplated for a moment. “Also you didn’t see him at the last party, where he was . . . very distinctly terrifying.”

Creed’s chin bumped against the top of her head as he nodded. “No, that’s fair, that’s fair. If it makes you feel any better, the first thing he did once we got to his chambers was sit me down to talk about boundaries and expectations for like half an hour, so . . .”

Thodri snorted. “That does make me feel better, yes! He’s . . . certainly full of surprises.”

“The first half of it was about how I shouldn’t expect anything long-term to come of it since his heart and soul are still undyingly bound to his wife, whose virtues he extolled at some length.”

Thodri drew her feet up on the bench and leaned back, watching the sunlight tint her vision red.

“See, that part doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“His body, on the other hand—”

Creed squawked as Thodri smacked a hand at his free arm.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “If you want to share any more details, you can go talk to Amaranth.”

“Fair enough.” Creed leaned his head over to rest it on top of Thodri’s, carefully maneuvering his horn so it wouldn’t catch in her hair. Tymora’s symbol bumped against her shoulder. A breeze sprang up, rustling the leaves of the tree above them.

“. . . So,” said Creed after a moment. “Aurelia was nice to you?”

Thodri groaned. “I hated it! She’s supposed to be all gruff and angry and disapproving but she kept trying to be . . . gentle with me.”

Aurelia had been the first member of the DPL to arrive after Thodri dragged herself up out of the tunnels, showing up out of breath and already starting to yell. “Where’s the idiot?” she had snapped when she first saw Thodri. And Thodri had been expecting something like that, so she only trembled a little as she explained about the tip and the tunnel and the trap and how Creed had pushed her back to safety when the walls came tumbling in. And she’d been expecting Aurelia to demand to see the collapse, so she led the way back down with her conjured light hardly flickering and waited while the woman shouted and kicked at the falling rocks. But then she’d expected Aurelia to shout at her too, to demand what they’d been thinking and why they’d been so stupid and why Thodri hadn’t made Creed follow the protocol and tell the rest of them where they were going, why Thodri hadn’t found some way to stop it—and so when, instead, Aurelia had turned away from the collapsed tunnel with a curse and seen Thodri standing there and simply muttered, “Damn it. I’m sorry, kid,” when Aurelia had moved in to try, inexpertly, to hug her . . . Thodri had completely fallen apart.

“Sounds awful,” said Creed.

“Yeah. The yelling is better.”

And the yelling had come, just not at her. Thodri found that Aurelia’s view of her had shifted from an errant recruit that she needed to keep away from bad influences (meaning Creed), to some kind of broken child too fragile to discipline and too foolish to listen to. With everyone else Aurelia had gotten harsher, but she would shoo Thodri out of the room before tearing into her coworkers and make her stand back when they went to investigate demonic incidents.

“If she’s not going to listen to me,” Thodri continued, “I’d rather she be angry than just . . . patronizing.”

“Well,” said Creed, “Stick with me and I doubt that’ll be your problem for long! She’s had no trouble being angry with yours truly, even after I mysteriously returned from the presumed-dead.”

“She cried about you,” said Thodri, remembering what else she’d seen when she’d brought Aurelia into the tunnel. “Just a little, but . . .”

She opened her eyes just in time to catch the delighted, devilish grin spreading across Creed’s face. “Oh, Footnotes,” he said. “Your knowledge, as always, is a treasure.”

“Don’t be too hard on her for it,” Thodri said. “Or at least wait until she really deserves it.”

“Noted.” Creed looked up at the sky. “However the rest of them treated you, it looks to me like you handled yourself pretty well while I was gone.”

“Oh, I . . . don’t know about that.” Thodri laughed nervously and let out a hissing breath between her teeth. “I went behind everyone’s backs and contacted a group of people I hardly knew who were wanted for fraternizing with demons and blowing up a building because I had a hunch, and then I met up with them alone at night without telling anyone where I’d gone. I shared classified DPL data; I used my badge for extremely unauthorized investigation; I ignored my actual assignments to go running on a wild goose chase after you . . .”

Creed wrapped his tail tight around her waist. “And you found me. And your gambles paid off, so either you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for or Tymora was keeping an eye out for you until I could get back and do it myself. Or maybe both! Anyway, I’m hardly going to scold you for going behind Aurelia’s back. I’m impressed that you managed to take so many of my lessons to heart!”

“You are the worst influence,” said Thodri, and then laughed and pushed him away when he brought up the tufted end of his tail to tickle her nose.

“And proud of it!” He turned towards her and his smile softened into something less playful. “And I’m proud of you.”

Thodri didn’t know what to say. She wished she was as quick with her jokes as he was and could come up with something to deflect the uncharacteristic earnestness in his face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with so much of this on your own,” Creed continued. “When you joined I promised I’d look after you, and I haven’t exactly done the best job of it.”

“Creed.” Thodri took one of his hands in hers. “Sometimes you really are an idiot. You were captured by devil worshipers who put you to work in a hell mine. As far as excuses for not being around to look after me go, I think that’s a pretty solid one.”

Creed quirked his head to the side in a half-shrug. “Aye. But then you and your friends broke us out, and on my very first day back I . . . nearly lost you. Doesn’t make me feel particularly confident in my abilities.”

His grip on her hand was almost uncomfortably tight, and it reminded Thodri of the way he’d held her when she was under the Feeblemind, that same stubborn refusal to let go.

“And then Palava got me back,” she said.

Creed sighed. “He did. Y’know, I think I need to have a bit of a chat with Tymora about gaining mastery of that particular ritual. It’s not a great look having her shown up by some elf god.”

“It’s not a competition, Creed.”

“Eh, to some of ‘em it is. And he won’t always be around, but I . . . well. I’ll do my best to be.”

Thodri let go of Creed’s hand and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’ll do my best too. I . . . know you’ll watch my back.”

He nodded and squeezed her. “And you’ll watch mine.”

After a moment he added, “And, much as I like to think we can handle things on our own, it’s nice to know some other people was can call in if things get rough who are better at dealing with all of this than, y’know, Aurelia.”

Thodri nodded vigorously. “It’s very good. Yes. Although, speaking of Aurelia . . .”

“Nooooo,” wailed Creed quietly, and Thodri laughed.

“We really ought to get back to her, and to our jobs. Come on! You’ve exerted your bad influence and made us both terribly late, so now it’s my turn to be the good influence and ensure we turn up for work at all.”

Creed flopped back dramatically over the bench, an arm draped over his forehead. “How could you?” he cried, although he didn’t protest further as Thodri pulled him to his feet and began to set off towards the new address. Behind them, the musicians in the square began another song.

“Hey Creed?”

“What is it, Footnotes?”

Thodri opened and shut her mouth once or twice, trying to pin down what it was she wanted to ask.

“Do you really think things are safe now?”

Creed took a step towards her and caught her up in a sideways hug, squeezing her tight before the difference in their strides meant he had to either let go or be pulled to the ground.

“Listen,” he said. “You signed up for a job that’s mostly boring interviews and paperwork with occasional terrifying interludes of charging ill-prepared into deadly situations. Safe isn’t exactly in the job description.”

“Comforting.”

“But, as I was going to say if you’d let me finish, despite all that . . . yes. I think the demons are really gone. I think we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do, and I think we’ll have to keep our eyes open for some of those non-demonic entities who are probably not very happy with us right now. But compared to yesterday, Thodri? Compared to every other day we’ve spent in this city? I think it’s fair to say that it’s much, much safer. And I think it’s okay to be happy about that, at least until the next deadly situation comes up.”

“And embrace the boring paperwork instead?”

“Thodri, no . . .”

“You know how much I love boring paperwork!”

Creed shook his head. “I absolutely do not and never will understand you.”

“Well, Dumathoin will be very happy about that. He’s an enigma and as his cleric I have a duty to share in this aspect.”

“An enigma who likes paperwork!”

Thodri laughed as they rounded the next corner and Seeker’s Square, with its dancing and bonfires and celebrations, faded from view behind them. She spared herself one last glance backwards and, for the first time that day, allowed herself to truly enjoy the sight.

Then she turned and hurried after Creed. The city had been saved, and they had work to do.

#downtime #npc downtime #creed #thodri

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palidoozy-art · 5 years ago

Photo

Sorry for being a bit MiA! I literally like... got married last week (friday the 13th baby), so things have been a bit hectic. I’ve got some pictures I’ve drawn on the iPad I need to pull off, too!

This dude’s my WoW character that I missed and began RPing again, so I drew him. His name is Haelind. He’s a reformed Twilight Hammer cultist.

CoS is still going (though we had to take a break last week for OBVIOUS REASONS) and I need to draw some updates, but here’s them in text form. Obvious spoilers below:

- The party initiated the FEAST OF ST. ANDRALS, and oh boy, it went better than expected. The party suspected the coffin maker but couldn’t get any info of him, so Miharu went invisible and snuck into the shop. She went upstairs, opened a lid, and... well.

- The spawn broke out into the streets and started butchering people. The party lost the bones and got their ass royally kicked. Ellerian actually got a concussion, and at like, round 2 they decided to flee inside.

- Strahd showed up, though most of the party didn’t meet him. Miharu stayed outside to try to kick some ass, but Strahd wound up dominating her and sent her inside with the others (he’s still trying to play nice, the party hasn’t really done much to oppose him yet and Ireena likes them).

- Though they didn’t meet face-to-face, the party met Strahd through the door to the house they were in. It was one of my favorite moments of the campaign, honestly. Strahd knocked and they had a moment where they were passionately debating whether to open the door. He left them gifts and warned them to stay inside for a few hours (while he murdered the shit out of the priest). The gifts he left freaked them out (Kelogul really wanted rum. One of the gifts was a bottle of rum. The player went “what the fuck, how did he know that.” Ell got a haircut earlier in the campaign. :)). He also left a necklace a former party member had in her possession. The player got the hint of what happened.

- The town is devastated. I actually rolled for how the battle went against the guards. Due to the increase in the police-state-ness of Vallaki, it was 100 guards, 10 elite guards, and Izek v. the 6 spawn. 60% of them got destroyed and Izek nearly died (he’s still alive) before they fled. Rictavio only killed one of the spawns.

- The party, while trying to fight the spawns, attempted to focus-fire one of them -- a blue tiefling spawn named Garros (he was a former player’s character in a side story we ran when two members were out of town). They failed to kill him, but the spawn now holds a grudge...

- ... Which came up when the party realized while the Feast was occurring, Luther was still stuck in the stocks. They decided to send two members out to go see if he’s okay. The lone spawn stalked them the entire time, to the point they had to give up and flee into a building to hide. He will be a reoccurring enemy now.

- A few hours after the feast, Miharu saw Rictavio carrying a body wrapped in chains. She was weirdly okay with this. Rictavio has fled with Vasili in tow to his tower. He’s told the party about it and asked them to meet him there.

- The party burned the priest’s body, as per request by Rictavio. Kelogul chopped down a bunch of random trees and only wound up using one of them for the pyre.

- Luther was okay. His misadventure wound up being that a helpful guard (that the party met earlier and liked) saved him and the other people in the stocks, only to be killed by a spawn during it. Ellerian wants to find the guard’s name, find his family, and apologize to them while giving money for a little funeral.

- The party is now back together. They plan on moving out of Vallaki (they will probably miss the festival) and visiting Rictavio.

- Ireena has approached Arialoth (the bard) who she admires the most (I kept track!). She asked her to train her in combat. So she’ll start gaining bard class levels, yay!

- The party is together and traumatized.

- Luther has summoned a steed. It was an elk, but due to Barovia being... y’know, fucked up, it’s a cool undead steed. He has named her Laran, and he loves her unconditionally.

- Miharu’s player wants to bang Strahd.

That’s it! Stoked for this week’s campaign.

#palidoozy arts #spoilers

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chyrstis · 5 years ago

Text

You won’t be the one (2/2)

I love how an excuse to write about a drunken radio call has lead to this weird weaving back and forth that I really did think was mostly going to be silly banter. At least at first?

Pairing: F!Dep x John Seed (the strange pseudo-flirting really can’t be denied here) Rating: T Word Count: 3.2K

Link to AO3!

___

A conversation in two parts. (Part 1)

______________

She was drunk. Not just a little, but heading full on into embracing whatever chaos the night might lead into, dare or no dare provided.

Sharky was her primary instigator, working harder than usual to keep her from thinking back to the mess they’d made of the convoys in the afternoon. It didn’t make sense. They should’ve found a way to make a serious dent by now, but for every one lost, another two took its place, like some sort of strange vehicular hydra.

It was an exhausting dance. One Hana knew was going to be painful from the start, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept, or forget. Especially when John knew which resources to lean on as a counter.

So, with that frustration fresh in her mind, she let one drink turn into two. Then into four. With Sharky by her side, she tacked on one more after that, and he reminded her that breaks like this really did lead to better ass kicking tomorrow.

“Just flush all of that negative shit out, double-down on you being you, and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me,” he said. “We’ll be swimming in so much Peggie ass tomorrow.“

She nearly choked on her drink. “Kicking. You mean we’ll be kicking so much ass tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah! What’d you think I said?” he asked, nearly spilling his shot. The fact that it was on fire – courtesy of him, and not Mary May - should’ve been a concern, but she was well within swatting distance if she needed to intervene. He put it out and knocked it back before she could say anything else. “We’ll be kicking it up, and fucking them up. Cause that’s how we do things.”

At least, that’s how they were planning on doing things. Tomorrow.

Within the hour, Hana was dragging him upstairs, barely able to stand on his own two feet. Even after somehow losing a bet and promising to get him his weight in accelerants, she wasn’t about to let him stumble up there alone, and helped deposit him into the room Mary May was letting her crash in.

Sharky faceplanted onto the bed, and after draping the blanket over him, she made him promise he wouldn’t suffocate on his own hoodie – while also making sure he actually wouldn’t. She would’ve felt awful if he did after teasing him about it. Lucky for her he was listening, but the minute said hoodie hit her in the face, she wisely decided it was time to cut out and leave.

With that she was left alone and free to roam. Her head buzzed, the sensation more pleasant than not, but standing there idle with a half-finished beer wasn’t going to help her burn any of that energy off.

So, she wandered outside, taking a moment to stand on the Spread Eagle’s porch.

In moments like this it was easy to see how someone could’ve fallen in love with this place. How she could’ve fallen in love with it before things went straight to hell and back.

The breeze ruffled her hair as Hana followed the road to the outskirts of town before cutting across the grass, looking to head to the hills. Glancing skyward, she took in the stars above, marking old constellations that she used to love as a kid.

Orion. Always Orion, with his belt of stars, one, two, and three. Cassiopeia, with the zig-zag of the W. If she squinted, there was at least one of the dippers to find too.

Out here, the lights above weren’t drowned out by the city below. She pointed up, running her finger from one bright point to another, her head bobbing as she tried to trace out the image. Rough as it was, there was still a picture to be made even if she had to blink fast to keep it in focus.

But her finger came to a stop, resting right on the edge of the horizon. Right where the white, glaring eye sore stood out up in the mountains, drawing her attention completely.

She chucked her empty beer bottle in the general direction of the YES sign, and didn’t care that it wouldn’t come anywhere close to reaching it. It shattered somewhere nearby, her annoyance rising at having fallen short, and she stood there, staring out over the fields as she forced herself to relax. To curl back into the peace out here. To breathe in and out.

In and out.

She took in her fifth breath, hearing it whistle between her teeth, before reaching down for her radio. Silence wasn’t going to cut it any longer, and she’d take anything else at this point.

Not bothering to check to see just which station she’d picked was a mistake. Mostly harmless, but still a sizable one given her current mood. With the Peggie station came a chance of hearing each of the Seed’s songs. She’d heard most off and on, but only for short bursts due to the cultists playing them.

John’s followers, however, seemed to take this a step further. Seemed to play his theme with a frequency that grated on her more and more every time she heard it, and hearing it now out of the blue? Here, well in view of his lasting mark on the valley?

That was the cherry on top of her irritation-flavored sundae.

Oh, John! The words ran right on repeat through her mind, and there it was. A melody that was going to stick around right up until the point that she passed out, mid-curse into her pillow.

“Petty fucking amusement, my ass,” Hana muttered, messing with the radio. “I’ll show you who’s a joke.”

If that was how her night was going to go, fine. Maybe he did have a point, and maybe, just maybe, he could be hers.

---

“Brother John?”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the papers set in front of him on the table, but when the Chosen didn’t respond further, he waved his hand for them to continue. At this hour interruptions were few and far between, but not impossible. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“Our channel’s been picking up on a strange message. One that’s been repeating, but doesn’t appear to be an SOS. It hasn’t stopped. Not once.”

John turned towards her, and set his pen aside. “If it’s not an emergency, or a threat, then what is the problem?”

The Chosen’s posture straightened as more of his attention was turned on her, but she held up her radio and stood her ground. “It’s been the same thing over the last five minutes. Cutting in and out, just…noise at first, but it sounds like singing.”

“Singing?” John raised an eyebrow.

She turned it on, and the voice came through in bursts, some of it too difficult to understand at first. Once the words started coming through, however, he listened, taking in the melody as it became quite clear which song it belonged to.

He set his chin in his hand, and let his eyes slip shut. That was his name being said, and this song was one he did admit a degree of, albeit prideful, fondness for. Even with the words slurred and the voice exaggerating each note’s rise and fall.

But this voice, this one, he was used to hearing nothing but provocations from. In a way, this also fit the bill. After the crude defacement of his message, along with the taking back of the Widowmaker, the county’s only free deputy kept on going as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

And while he had seethed over her actions - and her dismissal of him days back – other areas had demanded his attention first.

Her time to atone would come. She would take those steps, willingly, if he had his way, and from there progress could truly be made. If he needed to guide her further he would, but it was so much more satisfying to see what steps she might take unprompted. Especially when those steps lead to instances like this.

This wasn’t an immediate problem. It wasn’t another blow to their resources or a strike to their convoys. It was a distraction at best, which didn’t require his intervention at all, but the temptation remained. Like before, she was reaching out to him. Calling for him, even if only to provoke him.

It was still an effort, and it lingered in the back of his mind when he motioned for them to hand over their radio.

“Allow me. Maybe there’s something to this after all.”

---

"My dear Deputy-“

The radio flew out of her hands, sailing through the air towards the ground, as she fumbled it completely. It landed on a patch of grass, the tumble making only static come through for a few seconds. Soon enough, however, John’s voice was back.

“How unexpected. I wasn’t aware that song left such an impression on you. To hear it come straight from your lips, to hear it repeated so fervently. I’m amazed.”

Hana stared at the radio, both hands still clasped over her mouth, and felt the blood rush straight to her face.

“And over such a public medium as well. What would the others say if they heard you?”

If they had the right idea, they would’ve turned off their radios long ago. Hopefully before John actually decided to tune in, but too late now. She’d deal with that in the morning, along with the massive hangover she’d be courting.

She grabbed for the radio, struggling not to trip over her own two feet trying to pick it up fast, and almost forgot to hit the button before replying. “This isn’t about them. It’s about…shit.”

“You? I’d suggest myself, but after hearing what I have for the last few minutes or so, that might be presumptuous of me.”

He was back to using that strange teasing tone of his again, and none of it sat well with her. Not after what he’d shown her a few days back, but if he was willing to do this, she’d gladly dish it back.

“You liked that? Hearing your name over, and over, and over?“

“Very few would object to such a thing. Especially when said so…enthusiastically.”

Her face flushed again – or had it stayed that way? – and she kicked herself for being just that damn petty. The words had been messy from the start, and she’d looped back to that simply because her poor brain had hit a snag and couldn’t get past repeating variations of it.

“Jesus, John. Hearing this shit would grate on a normal person.”

Hearing it from her? Drunk and garbled? It should’ve been irritating. That was exactly what she wanted to begin with. Instead, he was a mix of amused and delighted? Shouldn’t he have already ambushed her and carried her off to God-knows-where days back just for the damn sign?

What the hell did she actually drink? Mary May said it’d been strong before she shot it, but -

“Why are we speaking, Deputy? I have a feeling there’s something on your mind. Intoxicated or not.”

You. She nearly bit her tongue. Bugging the shit out of you. “I thought my intent was pretty damn clear.”

“No, I think there’s more to this. A reason for you to seek me out. Are there regrets? Looking for another chance to consider-“

“No.”

“Deputy.” He almost sounded disappointed. “So quick to say no.”

“After listening to you tell me how, if given the chance, you were going to ‘open me up’ and, or, peel me like a fucking apple, did you really expect anything different?”

He paused. “Ah. That.”

“Yes, that.”

John chuckled, but didn’t offer up an explanation or an excuse. Just his amusement at what she was sure was her expense. That put a shot of anger through her.

“Real cute asshole, but you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“I was merely suggesting you could share a part of yourself with me.”

Not just one, Hana reminded herself. Multiple parts. Multiple layers.

“Suggesting, huh? Suggestions are made about movies, and songs to listen to. Both usually to share and enjoy with those closest to you. And okay, people do that too. Sharing, and baring just enough of themselves to see if they’ve got a good thing going, but applying that to us, John, just doesn’t work. Because one, we’re just not that cozy, and two, we’re sure as hell not that close.”

“Hence, the suggestion.”

“I might have a few for you, if we’re going to stick to this topic, but none of them are going to be that nice.”

“And I’m sure you would love to go over them in extensive detail with me, my dear. Some of which I might even entertain, given just how you might choose to pitch it to me.”

She wasn’t even sure what topic they were on anymore at this point. “Oh, I think you’d like my delivery. Maybe even my pitch.” Yeah, she’d lost it, and the breathy tone was laying it on way too thick.

“Deputy!” The smile her mental image conjured up for that was a wicked one. “You’re far from shy, aren’t you? Just be sure to remain clear on what exactly you’re hoping to accomplish. Otherwise, I may end up drawing my own conclusions on the matter. But don’t worry,” he said, almost imitating her. “No matter what you decide, you won’t have to be nice with me.”

Jesus. This was getting weird. Way too weird for her to keep on going with it. “Now I know you’re just trying to keep me talking. Dangling shit like that in front of me hoping I’ll just, I don’t know. Ramble on about something interesting, or just make a bigger ass of myself in the process. Either or.”

“We’re simply talking. Trading pleasantries, and possibly even a step beyond that. Surely that can’t be a problem.”

“Nothing is ever simple when it comes to you. At least, that I’m learning.”

“You were the one that called me. Let me remind you of that, yet again,” he replied, an edge creeping into his tone. “But this is the longest we’ve talked so far. I’d like to call that…progress.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to make progress here.”

“Given my role, I’d have to disagree. Progress is precious. All too delicate and easily lost, much like trust. And I understand yours is not given easily, Deputy.”

She took in a slow breath and let it out through her nose. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me be honest with you. Not that I haven’t been from the start, but if you need to hear it, need me to tell you this directly, then I will.”

“To build trust?”

“To build progress. But that could lead to trust, if given the opportunity.”

This was swinging back in the other direction. Back to a topic that she knew they shouldn’t be heading towards, and the repeated question came out harsh. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me make my offer again. To give you a proper chance to-“

“Confess?” That made her want to pitch her radio right out over the hills. “You never quit with this shit, do you?”

“Have I become that predictable?” he asked drily. “But yes, I doubt I will, because it's not in my right to deny you that. That chance. That opportunity. It still remains, even now.”

“You want to hear a confession? Hmm? You really want to? Like the actual reason why we’re talking right now? Why I made an ass of myself earlier singing at you?”

Hana held the radio right up to her mouth as she hissed out the next few words.

“I hate this song. I hate it every time it comes on, and I hate the fact that this entire county only has two stations to choose from. That if I get into any vehicle, or if I walk to any area within reach, there’s a decent shot it’s playing, and I have to spend the next five minutes listening to it crooning, ‘Oh, John,’ over and over until I can flip the damn switch.”

“It should be a source of inspiration, to bolster, and-”

She pressed the button on the radio to cut him off. “I blame the subject. He’s kind of a self-absorbed prick.”

He grew silent after that, and she knew she was getting close to hitting a nerve.

“John the brave. Building us a family, and working hard to keep us safe. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I would. All of you, if you’d let me.”

“It’s not that simple of a thing, John. To wave your hand and brush away everything. To wipe the slate clean.”

“It’s not about forgetting or dismissing memories, thoughts, or actions. It’s about accepting them for what they are, and finding a way past that. To wash them away, opening yourself up to the possibility of becoming something greater. We all have things that we regret, don’t we?”

Staring down at the radio, she wet her lips and wished like hell she had another beer nearby. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him of all people.

“I know you’ve felt that. Not just here, in this place. But before. Long before coming here. The difference is that this time, you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Coming from the same man that had promised to spill her guts out in front of him earlier, to dig for all that she’d keep from him, stung.

“Stop, John.”

“I would listen. Patiently, until you’ve given me all that you could offer. Every word, every action, as we name these things we bury, these sins, and from there they can be shed. So you can begin anew. Unburdened and unashamed.”

“I don’t want to do this with you,” Hana said, the buzz giving way to a weight in her body. “I don’t.”

“But you could. Just say yes.”

Yes.

A shiver ran through her, sinking deep into her as it spread.

“That night by the lake. The Cleansing, or whatever you called it, you remember that? Holding me down as I kicked and screamed my lungs out?” He went silent, and her head swam as she tried to steady herself. “You were going to drown me that night, weren’t you? Right up until Joseph spoke up. Saving me from you.”

She held the radio in her hand, waiting for a denial, acknowledgment, anything.

She’d suspected it. But this, after hearing him say those things to her, spoken low, intimately, was the icing on the goddamn cake.

“If anyone’s going to save me, it’s not going to be you,” she replied, hating how the words wavered. “Good night, John.”

She hit the switch and the radio slipped out of her hand, landing right on the grass by her feet. She'd know where to grab it come morning, she thought, leaving it behind.

Sure enough, she would.

#far cry 5 #deputy hana #john seed #fanfiction #fic series: you'll be okay I promise #*runs off again*#now to try and enjoy the rest of this chaotic Tuesday #and I'll see what I need to fix after posting this at 1 AM over at AO3 #FC5 fanfiction

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kaiju-z · 5 years ago

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FINALLY back on track, after a month and a half of stuff getting in our way, but here we are with session 20!!!

Seon Adventures Episode 20: Going Solo...

With the passing of the night, comes the light of day.

The trio of Belli, Luctan and Mournimar awake alongside Morgan and the elf baby with notably Amelia, Archie, Burk and Rimefang missing. Luctan does elaborate where Amelia had gone, though it gets missed in the confusion when everyone wonders what happened with Burk.

Thinking quickly on her feet, Belli sends a message to Burk to check where he is. But all he answers with is that Rimefang’s fine, don’t know where Amelia is.”

As Luctan fixes the baby up for the day, packing him like a little baby burrito (a babitto, if you will), the remaining bunch go upstairs, while Belli gives a call to Amelia. Amelia, who had been having the most wonderful of sleeps she has had since a long while.

“No.”

Belli sends her a message again with a whistle.

“No. Just no.”

Luctan has to repeat himself on where Amelia actually is, much to the amusement of the adopted duo.

As they climb up the stairs, everything seems normal and as expected from the previous night, people coming and going, welcomed and- And the party for some reason get approached by a very confused human, wearing the robes of the temple of Keemis.

Brunette, with an undercut, in his 30′s, scars on his arms and face, the kind man delivers a letter to the bunch, asking if they’re the Cultbusters.

“Are you the Cultbusters?”

“Depends on who’s asking?”- Belli.

“3 of them!”- Mournimar.

After a brief sibling argument about just up and telling people their identities, the man elaborates that the letter is written by Burk. Or. Well, he helped Burk write that letter for the party.

Mournimar is the one to read it to everyone else. All lower case, a lot of the words are misspelled.

“ hi. this is from burk. i am leaving now. ive been thinking and i think i do not need to be here anymore. i found one of the guys i was looking for and it was really easy and no ofense but i was hoping for cold hard killers and u r not. but you were all realy nice to me, nicer than any one has before so i am going to miss all of u very much. rimefang is coming with me because hes too cool for u. also i think hes geting bigger cause he started sheding or some thing i dont know. i left some scales for u, and ur share of the gold. there is a lot of stuff i wana go do and i feel bad draging u guys with me so i gotta go do it my self. but i want u all to know im not just going to kill people for me. i am doing stuff for u. For amelia and luc i am going to come back and we are gona have the best fight ever and learn a lot. For beli i am going to steal the biggest shinyest kazoo i can find. For morni i will stop punching wolfs and also be nicer to weird animals i find in the forest. u were all very nice and good with peeple and not good at vilence, and thats a good thing. but i dont fit in. bye for a while

burk “

The trio are devastated. Belli is the most vocal, with Mournimar having to calm her down, while Luctan stands stoically, with the baby in his arm.

Burk left.

It’s heart breaking.

It’s heart breaking and the cleric tries to cast Calm Emotions on the lot of them to try and soothe their woes. Mournimar fails his save, Luctan doesn’t even try and Belli tanks that and starts shouting at him for imposing his magic on them, without their consent.

“Don’t you fucking dare try and tell me what to fucking feel.” - She is emotion personified.

When things calm down, Luctan apologizes and asks for the messenger’s name.

“ My name is Malak. I am a Devotee of Keemis. I’ve been living here in this temple for a few years.” He had heard of the Cultbusters’ reputation and found interest and want to join them on their questing, seeing as they’ve stirred some cults out of their comfort.

Thrown them out of their rhythm, if you will.

He is accepted, Belli referring to him as their “intern” for now and, with introductions made, and Malak gathering his equipment, the bunch of them take to the last tavern they had gone to for breakfast and meeting back up with Amelia.

Amelia waits for them there. Nel had spoken to her about how she managed to get her mother to agree on leaving town for a while with the help of a family friend. And she had made some sort of offer to Amelia.

The group are again together at the tavern and introduce Malak. Amelia and Malak shake hands as a distraught Belli pays the tavern keeper to go and work the kitchen for a while.

Amelia encourages her. “The fact he wrote us a letter means he cared about The Cultbusters.” She gently holds Belli’s arm, ‘cause Belli’s abandonment issues have kicked in hard.

There’s stress baking and then there’s stress cooking. And Belli does this handily. And she makes... so much food! 1st, second, third Breakfasts, if those were actual things, of course.

“It’ll be alright. He had to do what he had to do.”

As Belli comes and goes with increasingly more and more plates of food, we end up talking about the baby and his future. The little elven boy keeps tugging at Luctan’s hair, fussing at him and getting fussed at.

A few suggestions get made. From Malak’s suggestion to raise the child in the orphanage, to the talk with Nel the other day, involving handing him over to a rich family.

The decision is hard to make. Whether he likes it or not, Luctan’s attached himself to the little one, but he knows he can’t keep him with the party as dangers keep increasing on their journey. He had been having waking flashes back to every incident since the child was with them and how scared he was from the screams and roars and hurts and aches.

He couldn’t let the baby travel with them further. He knew what he was going to do, regardless of where the baby went, but still.

Amelia catches up with Malak on his Keemis Clergy work.

He’s been at this for 5-6 years or so. He heard about the party after the CB helped arrest the local cultists. He’s fascinated by souls and how they transition, based on their alignment. He’s searching for an answer to this question. Basically, he’s looking for research.

Amelia asks where he’s from.

“I’m from Lian. It is not a good place to raise a kid and I left home, got a lot of people from my home town killed. We wanted to leave, thought we’d make our own band of soldiers to fight in the war and I’m the only one left. And so I try to find some meaning in the senseless death and resurrection and ended up meeting some Keemis priests. Fell in with them and came up here.”

The gang try to cheer him up about his backstory woes and some end up sharing their own troubles. Mournimar does so. Luctan gives away the shocker that his family owned slaves and that triggered his sense of aiding those in need, freeing the captive ones and fleeing via teleport scroll. And lastly Belli tells the tragic story of her family.

Doting on the baby commences, while Mournimar gives Malak some pointers on the shenanigans he is up for with Belli, now that he is part of the group.

Following their hefty meal, Mournimar gets his new armor. Better fitted than his previous one. Since he found it in the barracks??? This one is more custom. Studded Leather, which raises his AC + 1

Going back on forth on where to go next, during this tragic shopping episode, Belli shares Burk’s treasures with the cleric, seeing as he had left them for the rest.

Before anything can be really bought, though, aside of the meals, we go for the payment on the Serial Kilelr job.

As the party draw closer to the dungeons, Mournimar suggests Belli let Luctan talk, which offends Belli, who gets encouragement from Luck and Malak that she’ll do great. Malak ingretiating himself by casting Guidance and Enhance Ability on the Half-Orc Bard, right before she approaches the receptionists, an older Half-Elf man and a yellow tiefling.

“Now is the time to prove them wrong.”

The conversation is quick and Belli shines during this process. We are thanked, the lot of us, for the work we did and are pointed to the office of the Captain in charge.

While walking, we get a few pointers on places to visit around town.

Generally South-West of the city is a good night’s time.” the HElf answers Amelia. Though, uh, he wouldn’t know personally. Definitely.

We walk down to the office, knock on the door before walking in.

We are welcomed in by the Halfling woman inside. She’s dressed well for her job. Not exactly the outfit one would expect for prison duty, but then again, they didn’t have a good idea on that, themselves. Blue eyes observe us warmly and kindly, through a wavy bob haircut, while she fiddles with the cuff of one of her sleeves. Her office is bare, maybe she’s new, maybe it’s how she likes it.

She kind of looks everyone up and down. “I’m guessing you’re the folks we’ve been expecting, huh?”

The party apologize as they didn’t have a proper schedule in mind and the thought is shared vice-versa as it just... Really was like that sometimes? Often times?! A lot. It happened a lot.

For finding the hide out of the slayer of cityfolk, for convincing his husband to give himself up and testify about his beloved, the ‘busters gain a monetary reward. As she pulls out a big chest on the table, Belli tries to convince her to unionise. To some possible success? She certainly seems curious about the suggestion itself.

Ames kinda looks her up and down and gives a smol little thumbs up

She’s a valuable worker, she’s worth more.

On behalf of the city of Crystalgate, thank you for all of your efforst in intervening with the issue. The culprits have been dealt with.” Much to the four original members’ surprise, the husband has been released, having promissedto turn over a new leaf.

Luctan would later ask the captain, who introduced herself to the five as River Blackbrace (Just River), where he could find the husband and, after ensuring her that he planned no ill will towards the man, she guesses he’d be back in town or at one of the temples.

The woman feels like rewarding us with more, since this isn’t her gold, yeah? Lots of paperwork time prevented. The five are given suggestions on places to go and spend our money. Between " Neladrie's Rarities” and “Snipper’s Hall’, the clothing store of Grinella, they have some good options on their way.

Grinella is the best at her work, as far as River’s concerned.

Before they go, we mention to River that we plan on participating in the Spring Festival’s tournament.

River mentions that it was originally created as a celebration of the heroes Septum Sabata. It’s a series of trials re-creating what they went through to save everyone. Malak has watched it a few times and things happening around the arena a few good times. He’s the local CG expert.

And if they really feel down, there’s also a place... a-a-

Café where they summon fae animals.

And should they need a good book, there’s a library in the north east. “The Lady Stormweaver National Library.” The conversation about books prompts Luctan to show off the “Handerstaad” he got from Sa Doma.

And River spills the tea that Kheyha is a local. And has spent some time in the dungeons for her alcoholism antics. (Never meet your heroes, kids.)

They are suggested to stay away from the Ebryosis followers. Best leave those kinky fellas to their own “dungeons”.

As they walk walk to the clothes and magical trinkets shops, Mournimar has a heart to heart with Belli, apologizing for his behavior. While Luctan checks the money with Malak. The sibs hug it out, while the money is counted and distributed amongst all of them, even as Malak protests some.

There’s a faint tingle of wind chimes as the five go to one of the most eclectic collections of goods of various kinds we’ve ever seen. Sort of an order to it, anyways. A rainbow pattern across the show. Vaguely arranged in no particular order. Pretty much everything’s in a different size and shape.

A high elven woman, Neladrie, sits in a tall stool behind a desk, very long hair. She glances vaguely at us and has a monocular on.

Good morning. Feel free to look around. Please be aware you’re being watched, so don’t get any funny ideas. And Welcome.” She points at her watchful little pseudodragon, watching from the rafters.

Belli uses mage hand to pat the dragon.

She knows she’s a good gorl.

The search commences as each member of the party search foritems with some help of the shopkeeper.

Malak gains supplies for his Divination magic, including dragon bones.

Mournimar tries and fails to find anything that could enhance his wisdom.

Amelia gets her hands on some lovely sea shells.

Luctan gets helped with finding a focus for his recently developed magical abilities. A small purple crystal.

All the while Belli takes her pick, between some wild musical instruments.

There is an holy banjo with all the gods’ symbols.

There’s a great axe with a wider handle. A didgerydeath, if you will.

And also, what appears to be a kazoo 2. One sort of kazoo entrance and branches out into different sights. It’s like if a kazoo had different pitches.

There’s also a set of bagpipes.

And last, but not least, an ukulele of sorts. Upon testing it, the ukulute sounds like a spannish guitar, almost.

Ostentatious is her brand and after testing all the instruments, she agrees to buy the ukulute.

With purchases made, the gang take the next step of their journey, going to the “Snipper’s Hall”, where they meet the one and only Grindelia Snipper. A Goblin Woman, standing atop a 7ft tall step ladder, measuring a tall model with her arm tattoo.

“OH! Welcome!”

"Snipper’s Hall” is a long building, like a miniature Viking lounge house, with elements of stone to keep it stable. There is a wide variety of different sort of premade outfits, models of different heights going from 4.5 to 8ft tall... And. There’s a jewelry section.

After a greeting, the party make their requests and orders in a friendly sort of manner. Mournimar buys a jacket and a stag brooch, Belli gets herself a new, lovely outfit, a dress of blue and pink, as well as a canine bracelet. Malak’s fine as he is and Amelia is left uncertain with what to purchase.

Upon Luctan’s request... A custom outfit which’ll take a few days to put together, the poor secret Tieflingman gets handled with amazing strength and tenacity by the spunky and overly friendly goblin woman, who measures him nice and well with her arm and finger, taking his numbers with keen eyes, even with his armor still on.

He can’t be sure why, but the very suggestion she’s sent people to get treatment over the roughhousing sends a chill down his spine. The elf baby just has a blast during the entire developement.

Business transaction made, the next stop is “Peppery Pete’s Pile of Potions.”

Belli is still angry with the old gnome, over his potions involving Orcish strength, given the negative stereotype about Orcish intelligence lowering the user’s titular stat.

A stern talking to is to be had, before any dealings get made there.

Along the way to the shop, Luctan asks Malak if he knows anything about the tournament, beyond what the party had heard and he shares his knowledge with the gang:

“The Tournament is divided into three trials The Trial of the Elemental Lords, the Trial of the Beast and the Trial of the Betrayed.

The Trial of the Elemental Lords involves the blending of the elements being worked into a challenge that teams must overcome together.

The Trial of the Beast involves fighting a mighty beast that establishes victors as a cut above the rest.

The Trial of the Betrayed is the grand finale, the remaining 2 groups battle it out. But there are clerics on standby. You cannot aim to kill, just to knock unconscious. Any deliberate murder would be acted upon as such in a court of lawAfter the tournament, a party is held for all groups within the Echosmith Hall and the champions are presented with their rewards.”

Luctan’s mind wanders. Things to be re-worked in his goals.

The lot of them soon reach the shop and, upon summoning Pete inside, welcomes are had. Arguing commences between the Half-Orc and the Gnome as Pete ultimately admits that he stopped producing the particualr offending potion, much to the losses in his product.

Ideas are being thrown around on potions Pete could work on in turn, before any business could be had, involving the party’s wants and needs.

Aside from getting a Greater Health Potion and a new Potion of Wizard’s Folly (after giving his first one to Danton back in Sa Doma), the party have... particular requests.

Belli takes note of the “ Basilisk Tears “ potion. For 200 gold, she most definitely buys that and makes plans. Fast plans on the use.

On Luctan’s end, with the deal being made for Peter sponsoring the adventurers for the tournament to come, Luctan gives in to the support of the full party, now that they are all in the shop, as opposed to only half there. With the price for his sword’s modification being brought down to 1,000 gold and the helping hand of Mournimar, Amelia and Malak, who didn’t even want the share of money given to him, Luctan accets.

And hands his greatsword over to the gnome for the specific enchantments he requested.

Belli has that moment of realization, you know? The one, where you just know that you have to move, while the moving is available and contacts Ficus about the Potion of Basilisk Tears, a concoction that might JUST bring her family back to their old selves!

With the party’s blessings, she runs off towards the Crusty Challice, where Ficus will wait for her.

But she doesn’t go alone as Mournimar tails her, just to make sure she doesn’t get messed with, before getting to her older brother. All the while the rest of the group are welcomed to the back of the shop by Pete for training.

As the work out commences, Mournimar follows. And as he follows, he keeps an eye out for anyone shady that might be watching Belli on her way out of the walls of the city.

He doesn’t see anyone. But gets the feeling that he is watched. He investigates that feeling. He notices that someone in the crowd is watching him. Seems to be, looks like a bald older man, stocky built, little bit tall and for a second the tiefling swears there's the faint glimmer of horns in his shadow, but then they disappear. As does he as Mournimar tries to find him in the crowd. To no avail.

Regardless, he continues on the path to the tavern.

There’s a bit of a smog in the tavern as people’ve lit cigarettes and pipes. Belli and Ficus have a good long talk as she shows him the potion of Basilisk tears. They are shaken, misty eyed and anxious to see if it works. This horror that befell their family... It could end in the next couple of days!

By the time she hugs Ficus, Mournimar has entered the tavern and commenced watching over the shadyness that may be observed from the patrons.

Which is to say, he’s basically looking through a sea of shade.

He does notice, though, one of the bartenders has a sort of, finely shaped jaw and stood up black hair, a bit of stubble and seems to be watching Mournimar a bit more intently than normal.

Mournimar tries to stealth closer to the guy, even though he’s aware. He tries to figure out who the guy is, but he has no idea.

Eye contact is made between the two as the guy slides a glass with Brandy over to Mournimar and just continues with his work behind the bar.

Mourni has a leetl sip to make sure everything’s Gucci. Tastes like some of the brandy from around Bavorum. Nostalgic.

Through some small talk, Mournimar learns that the man’s name is “Joe”. Just a working Joe, you know?

It’s less of a talk and more of an interrogation as they don’t break eye contact.

“The brandy’s on the house, Mournimar.” the man answers with the name that the tiefling hadn’t given him. Like. At all.

No answer given on how he knows that.

He backs out the back door with a wink and Mournimar follows after her.

There’s no way the Half-Orcs don’t see this by now and they dash and jump on after the digitigrade ranger, who finds himself and Morgan out in the back alley, with no sign of the mystery man, named Joe.

He tries everything he can, from following tracks, to Hunter’s Mark, to Morgan’s snoofer, but nothing works. The man is just... gone.

With the Narahs catching up to him, he explains what happened and has to be talked down from pointlessly searching for a man, or whoever, who is just “GONE”.

It is then that Belli must explain to him that she has to leave Crystalgate with Ficus. To try the potion on her family. It’s hard on Mournimar, but the frazzled tiefling understands.

Belli hands him Orion and states that, if anything is to happen, she’ll call the others. They then agree to meet up with the others for a proper goodbye.

The others, by the way, doing pretty well for themselves in this new enviroment.

A deal has been made that every time Amelia does good in the training, Archie gets a treat.

Given that the chunky kitty is on his back, getting pats on his big belly from the baby, she’s killed this training.

The entire development has left the running quartet staggering back to the rest of the party. Mournimar doesn’t spot anything off on the way back.

As everyone reconvenes, Mournimar gives them an update on the respective situations, giving in detail a description of this “Joe” character. He worries it could be related to Lazarus, his ex. Or Kahlia. Or Potencia herself. He gets calmed by Luctan’s wording on the subject.

“We’re a bunch of famous and attractive people. Let’s face it. we have fans.”

As the party splits up, with Belli making her goodbyes with the rest of the gang, Luctan Blesses her and Ficus, which catches Malak’s attention. Thinking about the type of magic being used, he can tell that, though holy, it is not one of the Five that has given Luctan his abilities.

With Belli and Ficus taking Kevin and Killer, the rest of the party opt to go to the circus on the outskirts of town.

“The Voluptani Mystique “, a big tent circus in the north-west part of town’s outskirts. It’s fabulous on the outside.

They pay and notice at the entrance, a red skinned tiefling woman with a long, ball gown dress, leaning against the booth she stood inside and she waves a hand over and leaves a small mark with Prestidigitation.

Lead inside, it’s basically how you imagine a circus. An arena with seats around the circle. The four and their animal companions take a seat at the front as the Dancing Lights Cantrip flies around the tent, lighting and highlighting everything and everyone gathered, people of many walks of life. Just here for a little show to end the evening.

A cloud of smoke emits from the middle and the huge entrance of the tent swings shut.

Inside the cloud the lights start hovering, we can see the lights start changing color and go in different directions, erratic and suddenly there are hops from around the room where everyone’s sitting. And back in the middle, when they look, they see a high elf woman with pitch black hair falling long and wavy towards the bottom.

She stands with one hand in the air and one hand spread outwards towards the side. She pauses, looks around the audience and she whistles three high pitched notes. She snaps with her pointing up hand and the lights skatter, going right towards the audience. The cloud disappears and in the time it was there, the original woman is gone and there are two halflings, a man and a woman and they start doing all sorts of contortions. They entwine and roll in a ball. Throughout the whole show there is this almost hypnotic flute music. Pyrotechnic displays and after each one, there is a set of three elven dancer,s almost dangerously close as they maneuver around. Really fucking weird. A whole lot of illusion magic is happening here.

At one point the elven dancers starts flying around and Mallak, being a local, has seen this before.

After 3 hours of this weird bewhildering performance the entire room lights up and it’s completely clear and the original high elf woman, who’s actually an eladrin, is still in that same pose as when things started.

And she says “Thank you all once again, as always, please leave your tips with faith on the way out and thank you. She snaps with fingers and purple energy surrounds her as she leaves.

Bewhildered and amazed, Mournimar kinda wants to give this a go. Run away and joy the circus? Follow your dream, bud!

Having been in Crystalgate for a few years now, Malak had abided in a few viewings of the spectacle and, though it’s often with some modifications, it’s generlaly been the same good experience over time. He’s happy.

Amelia shares with the gang about the possibility of hanging out at Nel’s for a few days. As though there was any question on whether they would say “no” to such an offer.

As the night covers the sky above Crystalgate, the party find themselves again at the rich sector of town, being watched by a guard. Nel arrives at the gate, red faced after messaging Amelia. She forgot to give her a badge and was now paying the price with the run she had to make.

Sadly, though a talented bard, Nel has the muscle content of a slug.

The party soon make it back to Shadowspire Manner, lead by Nel, after introducing Mal to the Half-Elven woman and sharing of Burk’s departure.

They are shown around. the rooms, the kitchen, everything they’d need, before she takes Amelia’s hand and leads her to her room. Nel’s room. She is the body guard and she must guard that body.

Mournimar and Malak opt to crash in Luctan’s room for the evening, deciding not to split the party any further than this.

Luctan watches out of a window for about an hour, while humming to the baby, before going to bed.

As Mournimar and Malak sleep, Mournimar has some kind of dream...

But Luctan doesn’t sleep.

No.

Instead, once he’s sure the others have fallen in rem sleep, he sneaks outside and goes for a short walk around the neighbourhood, doing whatever it is that he does at this time.

After coming back in, 5-10-20-to-30 minutes later, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and notices a shadow close to Mournimar, with no one casting it.

Then it disappears.

After investigating out the window, Luctan goes to bed and meditates... on something else.....

Day 2 comes to an end.

Previous Episode / Halloween Episode / Next Episode

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nemossubmarine · 5 years ago

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Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #34

This whole session was a combat, so reporting might be short. Or might not. We pick up right in the middle of the action, the haemonculus and her people approaching the middle room from the top, Knut and his folk starting the ritual at the bottom. Gorm is all rearing to go, but Saef reasons with him, saying that there’s no use getting sandwiched between two groups of people, especially since no one knows they’re here yet. It would be better to hide and let the drukhari pass and then start going for Knut. Gorm grumbles but agrees. They ask the Harlequins go try and get some of Knut’s folks up to the floor they are in, which they do. Gorm has an idea, asking Gimlet to hop onto his back, which he does, though confused. Gorm climbs with him up to one of the spike balls to give Gimlet a vantage point to take some shots. Just in time too, as the haemonculus (a spider-like lady-person) and her folk start pouring in, at the same time as some of Knut’s folks (Chaos Space Marines, cultists and some strange looking AdMechs) come up from the lower levels. Our heroes wait for the factions to clash. Gorm jumps down onto two of the drukhari, pushing them off the ledge to the spikes below. Some of the wracks notice Gorm. Gimlet attacks them looking very cool and handsome, helping a pal out. (Which is the coolest and handsomest thing anyone can do)

The haemonculus lady is keen on killing some chaos marines. Saef takes some shots at her with his psyker powers. Uffe also helps. This unfortunately draws the haemonculus' attention, especially when saef slips on some blood (he also drops ahram's necklace while he's at it). She shoots at him with a poisonous stinger. Gorm tosses a grenade at the lady, which causes one of her front legs to snap and she gonks her head on the floor. She doesn't like that. Before she really can get on Gorm's case about it, a noise starts sounding from below, a sound of a ritual coming along nicely. The haemonculus lady rushes towards the lower levels, gorm quick at her heel. Gimlet jumps down from the spike ball and Uffe grabs both him and Saef, getting them to the lower pathway. Saef stops to grab Ahram's necklace, and together they go down.

There's still some cultists blocking the way, haemonculus lady is attacking one stack, Gimlet takes care of the other with his flamer. Gorm rushes downstairs, finding a webway gate, two chaos marines and his brother in the middle of a chaos ritual. Gorm attacks the chaos marine blocking the way, but Knut does something, and gorm starts growling in pain. He manages to down the chaos marine and rushes Knut. Gorm’s starting to look awful wolf-like. Uffe, coming to check the place, also gets something done to him by Knut and starts wolfing out, and some other stuff... Gimlet gets a nice look at Uffe eating a chaos marine corpse. As one does. Gimlet shoots one of his psyker stopping arrows at Knut which seems to ease both Gorm's and Uffe's predicament. The haemonculus lady gets through the other cultists and rushes Knut. Saef follows, attacking the remaining chaos marine who whips him in turn.

Haemonculus lady quite unceremoniously decapitates Knut, but something happens; two images of Knut appear in front of his corpse, a red one and a blue one. The blue one flees upstairs while the red one flees through the webway gate. Gorm is in hot pursuit, Gimlet and Saef at his heel. Wolfed out Uffe goes after the blue one.

Thus concludes the 6th adventure if this little story.

#nemo roleplays #wag rp #campaign tag: dont do chaos kids #wag rp writeup #holy short writeup batman!#this whole session was a combat #which accidentally became the most ambitious combat ive ever done #didn't mean to :D #but i actually think it turned out rather nicely?#like it was more than just standing in a room and whacking people #deffo my fave combat of this game so far #next up some webway adventuring yay

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forbidden-celestia-lore · 5 years ago

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so what's the haunted house then

well, thank you for asking, person who was definitely not sending this ask from their work computer!

first, bit of backstory: off the tail end of some Wizard Shenanigans, we followed a rider from the Whispering way to this tiny little fishing village, which has been experiencing a bit of Bad Luck for the last few months. The mayor personally welcomed us, hiring us to figure out what the fuck is up with the local church, one of a sea god, supposedly. We (read: Thela) broke into investigated this church, found… some headless bodies, a chest that smells like fish, some freaky ass carvings, a bloody altar, slugs that posses you and make your head explode (remember this one), and a giant spell casting crab monster. Suprise! it’s a cult. We go in the next day at noon like the chumps we are and get ambushed, killing a bunch of the priest/cultists, and finding some more Loot. We tell the mayor, and he tells us that the head priest disappeared into the woods a few days ago, heading off to some mansion thing. We want our money, and we may as well finish the job, so we pack up and follow.

Got all that? Great.

So we’re heading out to this random house in the woods, right, and my idea is that the head priest is part of the Whispering Way, cause we found the rider we were following headless in the slug room (don’t ASK me how that works), and that he was going out with a bunch of local contacts or smth to do Secret Plotting. So we get there, actually we haven’t really even “gotten” there yet, as the map hadn’t even been drawn when my dad asks us for a perception check, which we all of course fail. Or we think we’ve failed, because all he tells us is that we see a ripple on the nearby lake, putting us all on edge. A fitting start!

So we’re at this house, and I don’t think we’ve ever entered through the front door in our lives, which means that we pick the wing closest to the path we came in on and sneak up to it. I’m pretty sure my dad was internally screaming (or laughing, depending) at this point, because when we got in (undetected I might add!) and kinda sorta relaxed, and Jafar sat on the fucking couch a SWARM OF TICKS POURED OUT OF THE FUCKING COUCH. TICKS. So Celestia screams (literally, I had her do that canonically, would have totally ruined our stealth had there been anyone around to care) and runs out of the room, ducks through the first doorway she sees and immediately starts changing into her cultist disguise, in case someone did hear her and is coming. Thela climbs into the air using her immovable rods, Obezyana and Krono (who were by the door) run back outside after setting Jafar, who is now covered in ticks, on fire. And then from outside they do it again. And maybe one more time I’m not sure, but fire was the only thing we had that would hurt those ticks, until Obezyana had the legit bright idea to use color spray, which stuns every critter in a certain area. My dad was gracious enough to let him warn Thela, so she wasn’t affected, but the ticks were STUNNED and we LEFT as quickly as we could.

We regrouped in the main entry hall, Celestia now in her Whispering Way garb, and decided to look at the second wing before going into the main hall. All that was in that wing was an old storage room, where a fight of some sort had taken place recently, and we found a box that used to have a statue in it (the statue had been stolen from a museum, and we’d had to prove it wasn’t the beast Simon who stole it, but the Whispering Way, so we Knew they were here). We also found a horse! Clearly the horse the Whispering Way agent had ridden, but they’d been there for a few days without food or water or anything. We fed it, watered it, and made our way to the main hall.

On the map, the house was drawn as one big circle in the middle, representing the main hall, with two rectangles coming off of it at a little more than a 90* angle. It turns out that the house was constructed this way because the main support beams for the central structure were a fucking druid circle, creepy ass alter included. We actually found a secret compartment on the Cursed Altar that had a Big seed in it, which we did Not touch. At which point and actual literal Giant came through a door on the other side of the hall and asked us what we were doing. I, being the diplomat of the group, told everyone to shut up and pretended I was supposed to be there, can’t you see I’m part of your cult (which I wasn’t but I didn’t know that)? This sufficiently confused the giant, letting us march past him, except then we had to act like we knew what we were doing which meant that we went through the first door we saw, and of course it was the one with the Head Priest behind it. Thankfully he was merely a pathetic spellcaster (I say, a spellcaster), so we were able to subdue him in two rounds and render him unconscious in like, three. Except!!! Surprise!!!!! He’d been possessed by one of the slugs!!!! And his fucking head exploded into tentacles!!!! Celestia screamed and scrambled backward. Thela jumped. Obezyana took a step backward. Jafar screamed and tried to shove them back into his fucking neck.

We may have panicked a little.

Eventually (and surprisingly quickly) by doing the combat equivalent of hitting him over the head with a baseball bat and screaming we were able to kill whatever the Fuck he’d become, except!!! Another surprise!!!!! He exploded AGAIN!!!!! This time into more slugs!!!!!! Six of them!!!!!!! What fun!!!!!!! Kill me!!!!!!

Turns out arrows work really well on those bastards, which is great because it meant that Obezyana was able to shoot like three all at once while Jafar smashed another one or two, but three of them slimed away out the open window into the woods.

“OH NO YOU FUCKING DON’T” said Obezyana, leaping over the balcony railing and running off into the woods after them, the speedy bastards.

“Let’s burn this place to the ground” said Thela thoughtfully. “Great idea but let’s loot if first” said Celestia, greedily. “NO” said literally everyone, smartly. “But MONEY” said Celestia with her singular braincell, running off down the hall and opening the first door she found.

Now TO BE FAIR, she didn’t like, fling it open. She may be careless and greedy, but she’s not stupid. Good thing too, cause behind that door was a library, half collapsed and rotted away, inhabited by a pair of bloodthirsty ghosts! Thela had wanted to leave, but once she knew there were undead there she was obligated to at least try and help them leave, for Pharasma reasons. So she stayed behind with Jafar while Celestia was like “OKAY GREAT LET’S KNOCK THIS HOUSE OUT AS FAST AS POSSIBLE I’LL JUST RUN AHEAD” and powerwalked into the next room.

The room right next to the Ghost library was actually an empty bedroom, excepting a cradle and a mobile made of seashells hanging above it. There was no draft, but when she had to roll a perception check and it moved when Celestia opened the door. She didn’t go in.

The room after THAT was actually more of a fancy hallway, with a desk in the middle of it, looking away from some stunning views from the floor to ceiling windows behind it. THIS time Celestia actually did good on her perception check, and she was able to notice (and identify!) the yellow powder covering the desk as a type of mold that fucking EXPLODES into a POISONOUS CLOUD when disturbed!! Because what ELSE would this house have!! NORMAL dangers??? don’t be ridiculous (still tried to open it tho)

But after deciding aGIANST that, she went to the door at the other end of the hall room, because Celestia’s completionism knows no bounds. This entire time, Thela and Jafar had been dealing with the ghosts, and I don’t remember their bit very well? I think I wasn’t paying attention (or it was literally happening concurrently with my little adventure, whoops), but the gist of it was that the ghosts were Not up for conversation and FLEW at the pair of them, and Thela slammed the door in their faces and walked quickly on over to Celestia. So when Celestia opened the door at the other end of the hall, which will now be referred to as The Bedroom Door, Thela was there too, to help her out! Which was good! For reasons to be explained!

Behind The Bedroom Door was, well, a bedroom obviously, but it was. Hm. Literally cursed? It was dark, with a large, blood stained bed, and the ornate carving of a ship on a storm tossed sea above it carved into, just, cut to pieces. Someone had carved “THE PACT HAS BEEN BROKEN” into this fuckin ruined bed in this ruined house, and I think Celestia could see… things. The shadows were moving, or wrong, or something, but it meant that she did NOT want to go in. Thela, however, could be convinced by loot, and since she has a stupid high stealth snuck into the room to try and get into the attic.

So part of the fun of Pathfinder, or any ttrpg really, is that not only do you get to roleplay, you get to act and see what the Universe thinks of your decision. So when Thela rolled very, very high, it really added to the experiance that my dad (the DM) sighed with relief before describing the room. +31 stealth! I’ve got the second highest at +16! Sage rolled REALLY HIGH! SIGHED with RELIEF!!

The, things, that had such a high perception, were… not, dogs. They were large, shadowy, quadrupedal, with long, long thin legs and mouths full of teeth. Glowing eyes. And when you looked at them, you could feel your mind… twisting. Thela had to roll stealth again. A little farther into the room. Then she noticed that they weren’t… they were completely visible (well. no. they never were.) but they weren’t standing in the room. She could see them as if there was nothing in the way, but they were also very clearly standing outside of the second story bedroom. She signed this to Celestia (they both know sign), succeeded her final stealth check and BOOKED IT upstairs and away from the not-dogs. (here’s a drawing I did of them, if you’d like to look)

Celestia went downstairs, while Thela went upstairs to the attic. She found a book up there! Called smth like Non Euclidean Geometry. Written in Abysmal. Fun!

She also found the smashed corpse of a Whispering Way cultist, in a crater, and realized it must have been dropped from a very high height, which didn’t make sense considering there was only open sky above her oh my god what the fuck is that. SURPRISE!! I GIANT FUCKING FLYING BIRD DRAGON REPTILE GRIFFIN BUT NOT THING!!! IT REGULARLY EATS ELEPHANTS AS LIGHT SNACKS!!! AND OBEZYANA IS OUTSIDE!!!!!

anyway I’m gonna add the next bit in a reblog because this is getting long and tumblr doesn’t let me save this as a draft so this is all on my clipboard, making me nervous.

#campaign chaos #the haunted house

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wyrevar · 5 years ago

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Tales of Wyrevar: Session 11

Watch the VOD here! << Session 10 | Archive | Session 12 >>

Correll and Zal’Avhra head home together, discussing their families as both are fathers. Correll talks about Arya and how she’s nearing adulthood. Zal’Avhra explains he has three children, and soon may be seeing his first grandchild, should he live to return to his family. Correll asks why Zee left them in the first place, and he explains a vision required it of him. They speak more about how Correll’s wife, Mailee, is upset and how they hope to work it out. Correll discusses how they think adventuring brings about bad habits, and Zee replies that it takes you away from those you care about.

They arrive home. After greeting Shimmers, Zal’Avhra studies the spellbook he picked up. He finds it contains the Resistance cantrip. Correll, at their home, finds their wife waiting for them in the kitchen. Correll apologizes about bringing the flower home without telling her, and Mailee says she knows how much it means to them, but she wants a plan to deal with it. Mailee explains that Lord Ailwen, who is in charge of the paladins, visited the shop today and she panicked while talking to him. She didn’t tell him about the flower, but it made her uncomfortable to continue hiding it. They decide to put watch on it as a temporary solution, and find somewhere else to keep it in the meantime.

When Mailee goes upstairs to fetch Arya, she finds that their daughter has gone to the Pit to fight. The two parents head to Old Stone to confront her, as she’s stolen her mother’s scimitar. They find Arya about to sign a contract to fight. Though she tells her parents she’ll leave, when they’re distracted she signs the contract and goes to fight. They watch from the stands and, though she’s been stabbed by her opponent, Arya manages a victory. Once she’s been healed, they head home together, Arya in a great deal of trouble.

Grim reads the message from their shaman, who remarks on their progress and approves of their progress, including a drawing of the shaman lounging on the items Grim had sent. Grim then seeks out Andil, the black dragonborn paladin, to seek his assistance on finding their cousin. Andil does not know of any corruption with the temple of Theris, but will look into it for them. He directs Grim to a temple of Marik at the Keep, and agrees to bail them out later should they end up in jail.

Grim then continues on to the Drunken Weasel to resolve the situation there. Thomas goes to fetch the bill, and Grim is approached by a smug, black-furred, red-eyed weasel who can speak, named Benjamin. Benjamin requests that Grim return that night with Aodion’s flower to make a trade for information on their cousin. Grim informs Benjamin the flower is damaged and is being tended to, but will consider the deal when the flower is healthy. At this time, Thomas returns with the bill. Grim provides all their gold to start on the payment, and signs a contract for payment of the rest.

Grim arrives at the Paladin’s Keep’s temple area. They head to the temple of Theris first, noting differences in the priests’ presentation--scars around the mouth rather than veils. Grim looks around, interrupted by a tall Aasimar named Tosh who offers to lead them to the shrine to Marik. They describe themselves as an assistant of Lord Alabaster, the lord of Wyrevar. They speak about Lord Ailwen, explaining he is the head of the paladins, and has been for 120 years. They also speak of his rival, Aries, who is head of the Lord of Wyrevar’s paladins. Grim explains as well that they’re in town to find their missing cousin.

They arrive at the shrine of Marik and Tosh takes their leave. Grim offers prayers and finds a shaman, who recognizes Grim as one of Rahsalis’s people. Grim once again explains their trouble in finding their cousin. The shaman says she met Numorn once, but he often went to other temples. The shaman says she’ll look for him, and said she saw him speaking to someone cloaked, wearing items of the temple of Yuna, at Wyvern’s Wake early in the morning three or four days ago. She also mentions that Oscar was making inquiries into each temple, though his questions were rather basic, about how the gods created them. Grim thanks her and stays the night at the temple.

Rubbish heads to the mansion with Taavi, speaking to the imp once inside to thank him for helping with the bar situation. Taavi protests that it was just for his benefit, but Rubbish continues to thank him. Taavi explains he doesn’t have good reference for this, as Oscar was terrible to him and most of the party hates him. Rubbish says they’ll work on that, and lets Taavi go run around the mansion to find anything he’d left behind.

Rubbish heads into the basement to talk to the rats there. None of them know Angelus, though one had heard of August Nox because a crow had picked them up and threatened them for information. The rat doesn’t remember because it was ‘so long ago’, being about either right before they entered the mansion or while they were inside of it.

She then asks the mischief about the Rat. She learns he’s one of the first animals, from the First Forest, and is a kind of fey god. The Rat lived with Aochindain at the Throne of Thorns. The mischief knows about the Rat as the fey visited them, sometime around a year ago, and had told them stories. The Rat doesn’t require worship outside stories, and not worshipping other gods. Rubbish tries to explain the Bramble, and the rats say that the Rat may know more about it. The rats say they will try to summon the Rat for her, by thinking very hard about them, and Rubbish says she’ll share stories with them when they arrive.

Rubbish finds Taavi reading the paladins’ notes about the mimic in the attic. He points out the acid-melted lock and says he wishes he’d known the mimic was up here, because he could have at least talked to them and keep them company. Taavi doesn’t understand why Oscar wanted a familiar, because he never used him, and was just a jerk to him instead. The two of them head home after Taavi finishes picking up his things.

Azra heads back to Dark Town. She alerts her higher up that she needs to speak with the boss, and then goes back to her room to test the box with her moon rock. The box works as normal, but the liquid in the vial is attracted to the moon rock. It does not seem to be magnetic in nature; it always gravitates towards the rock. In the morning, Correll and Arya talk over the events from the previous night. Mailee is not present as she was up early making angry breakfast. Arya explains that fighting is the only things she thinks she can do or is good at, and Correll asks that she not put herself in danger without letting them know again. She explains that she did only sign up to fight other combatants because of Correll’s feelings about fighting animals.

Azra leaves her room to find Kenickie waiting for her per her request. Azra explains that Rubbish wants to attend the meeting between Taavi and the boss. Kenickie is not pleased with the idea, knowing Rubbish would protest if they had to ‘press’ Taavi, but says he’ll allow it as he’s now conducting the interrogation. Azra asks as well about guarding the flower that Correll is raising, and Kenickie says he’ll inquire about it.

Zal’Avhra heads to the temple of Zaesir to return all books except Arumet’s notebooks, and then goes to Correll’s. They discuss Arya’s pit fighting and Zal’Avhra commiserates with a story of his own daughter. Correll shows Zee to the green house in order to check on the tegu. Arya is there, and Zal’Avhra teases her about her fighting. They then look at Aodion’s flower which, despite looking healthy, has a crystal growth at the base. The crystal is similar to what was found in Oscar’s mansion. They decide to ask the group what to do with the crystal.

Shimmers then calls Zee, worried about having missed him, and he heads home with tea. She tells Zal’Avhra that the ghouls have left her alone since that night but she doesn’t believe they’re gone. Zee attempts to teach Shimmers Shocking Grasp, and she manages a few small sparks.

Grim wakes in the temple and is instructed by the shaman that they can eat in the barracks with the paladins. While there, they sit with the mute drow Percival. They find out that he has been here since Ailwen, who invited him into the ranks. They talk about the temple of Yuna and Percy says Numorn was there about three days ago and left late at night. Percival agrees to help along with his partner, Kenickie. Grim thanks him and heads to the Muddy Boots.

Rubbish and Taavi arrive at the Muddy Boots and meet up with Azra. Azra explains that Kenickie agrees to let Rubbish come with when Taavi is questioned. She warns Taavi that as long as he’s honest, everything should be fine. Rubbish is confused, assuming no one would hurt Taavi. Azra attempts to explain and says she won’t let them do anything to the imp, and Rubbish defers to Taavi, who agrees to go to the meeting.

Grim then arrives, immediately demanding that either of them say what they know about the temple of Yuna. Rubbish mentions she saw Correll at the temple of Yuna, and they decide to meet up at their bakery. They arrive at the time the bakery opens, and Grim again demands to know about the temple of Yuna. Correll explains what they know. Grim, noticing that Zal’Avhra is not there, abruptly leaves to fetch him.

Grim again demands Zal’Avhra tell them about the temple of Yuna as soon as they arrive. Zee knows a lot about their missions of compassion, and knows of Father Drakken, head of the temple of Yuna, and Arumet, who is an agent of Yuna who roots out cultists. The two head next door so Grim can explain their lead, with Zal’Avhra silently teasing Shimmers about possible affection between her and Grim.

Interested in further adventures? We’ll be broadcasting the next Tales of Wyrevar session on Sunday, June 30th at 5pm Pacific/7pm Central on Twitch! Follow for notifications of when we go live.

#tales of wyrevar #tow session summaries #tow session 11 #ttrpg #dnd #cut for length

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blackjackkent · 6 months ago

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All right, upstairs to see Isobel!

Rakha isn't really sure what to expect here. Jaheira described Isobel as a Selunite - which means she is in direct opposition to Shadowheart's religion. Rakha, for her own part, knows nothing about either faith beyond the corrupted temple and shattered fortress she has already passed through, and neither brought her personally much comfort.

The woman in question is out on the balcony - and Rakha's whole mind seems to split apart at what she sees there.

At first she is conscious only of the light. Rakha stares, her jaw dropping open slightly; a soft 'oh' escapes her, almost inaudible.

It's beautiful.

This is not arcane magic like Rakha's own, but divine - like Shadowheart's in some ways, although Shadowheart has never made anything glow so brightly. This is the nexus focus of the force protecting the inn - a silvery energy that shimmers like a bubble of mercury atop the surface of the Weave. Rakha can feel the strain where it butts up against the curse of the darkness outside, pushes it back - a thousand little skirmishes between dark and light. And all of the power centers within the body and mind of the woman on the balcony.

Her eyes are glowing with that pale light. Around her stand several mirrors, all reflecting and amplifying the energy. A bowl of milk, almost silvery itself in the moonlight, sits on the table before her surrounded by candles. She gathers together some of that moonlight magic, maneuvering it between her fingers with expert precision. Beneath the movements, Rakha can see how she is drawing together the Weave itself, folding it over and over into a tight ball of magical energy, which she then flings outward towards the shield around them. The protective field shudders with the impact of the ball of light, then stabilizes, steadier than before.

Rakha stares, hungry and eager, at that rippling pale glow. Her own magic feels calmer and quieter within her where that light touches her.

But there is no true peace for her - not while the beast lives in her mind.

It is awake with startling suddenness, growling low and full of rage. Whatever pleasure the glowing magic brings Rakha, it elicits equal fury in the beast. Kill her. Snuff out the light. Shatter the mirrors. Kill her. KILL HER! She is the fulcrum. Kill her and they will all die screaming...

Rakha does not want to kill her. Rakha does not want the light snuffed out. But for a moment, the beast has utter control, and she sees with devastating clarity an image of the Selunite's head knocked from her body, a clean snap of the spine and tearing of flesh, and blood pouring into the bowl of milk, staining it red...

"I didn't realize I had an audience." Isobel has turned to look at her.

Rakha sucks in a sharp breath, squeezes her eyes closed. She can feel the beast straining to take control of her muscles as it did when it killed the squirrel back at the grove. As it did when Alfira died and she woke with the bard's blood on her hands.

Kill her.

No.

KILL HER.

No.

Isobel pushes past Rakha and between her other companions, back into the bedroom behind them. "The True Soul who's going to save us all," she goes on as she moves, unaware of the hideous battle being waged within Rakha's mind. "I'm Isobel. Pleased to meet you."

Rakha's movements are stiff, unsteady, as she turns and follows the other woman inside. Slowly she manages to open her eyes and rasp out a ragged answer. "Word gets around fast," she mutters.

"Small inn," Isobel answers with a flash of humor.

She peers at Rakha appraisingly for a moment before going on. "We've been waiting, hoping against hope, for someone like you. Free from the Absolute's influence yet able to walk among cultists. It's almost too good to be true." Again the slight flicker of a smile. "But I'd be a poor cleric indeed not to avail myself of a blessing when I see one."

She tilts her head questioningly. "Let me guess. Jaheira's sent you to beg a protection spell off her favorite cleric."

Before Rakha can respond, there's another burst of that silver magic. The light flares around Isobel's hands, then bursts forward to engulf Rakha and her companions.

Rakha lets out a soft groan - half pleasure, half pain. The pleasure is for herself; the close touch of the magic is soothing and cool, melding with her own power and the Weave around her in a gentle communing wave. The pain is for the beast, which howls in her head at the contact, trying fruitlessly to push it back and away, to leave her in the razor-sharp darkness.

Narrator: The blessing falls uneasily over your tainted body. You can't help but dream: to kill her would destroy all of Last Light. You yearn for it so deeply...

She has not felt the beast so hungry in many weeks. Not since Alfira. Is it something about Isobel herself that it wants dead so badly? Or is it simply the fact that Isobel's death would mean so many others would also die?

Whatever it is, she finds herself trembling with the effort not to lash out. Attack with purpose. With purpose... There is no purpose here. Please... please...

Kill her... growls the beast, implacable as steel.

She can hear a soft hiss behind her as Shadowheart's wound flares - Shar's punishment for their use of Selunite magic.

"Perfect," Isobel says. "It'll make you immune to the lesser effects of the Shadow Curse, which will get you closer to the Towers. But there are places it won't help - places where the curse is darker. Stronger. The cultists are able to traverse even the deepest shadows, though. I don't know how - the Harpers are trying to figure it out."

(A/N: Whoops, I forgot we haven't gotten the moonlantern from Kar'niss bc we came in through the Underdark. We'll have to be sure to go do that.)

"Selunite magic," Shadowheart mutters bitterly. "Dark Lady forgive me."

"Good nose," Isobel answers coolly. "Like a nasty little terrier."

She doesn't know it, but that sentence comes very close to getting her killed. Rakha is struggling desperately with the beast in her head - and Isobel's rudeness towards Rakha's own companion almost tips the balance. The beast seizes on the flash of frustration the comment elicits, sinks its teeth in, and howls.

KILL HER!

"Thank you," Rakha rasps out. She needs to get out of this room before the beast manages to get hold of her blade. "Now I must... take my leave..."

Isobel looks at her for a moment, clearly trying to divine why she sounds so strained. Then she nods. "Good luck. And may the Moonmaiden protect you. While you're busy in the Towers, I'll be sure to-- wait. Do you hear that?"

A heavy thump, somewhere above them. A rushing sound of wind beneath the beating of wings. A flash, bone-deep, through Rakha's body, the sense of the dark corruption pushing through the moonlight shield.

Isobel's expression draws tight with sudden fear. "Something is wrong..."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #DURGE DRAMAAAAAAA #yeah i had to rewrite this whole post bc i got down to the bottom and the narrator was like #btw you want this woman dead as a hammer #'oh okay' says i #'that changes things'

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denizen-myf · 6 years ago

Text

Stormsong Investigation, a story by Myf (continued)

(Part III - VI)

We return to the story with a somber evening in Stormsong, the Vanguard had just witnessed an execution of innocent Tidesages, ordered by the Chancellor of the Krakens Counsel. The sun looms on the horizon as dusk falls upon the hills of Stormsong, clamoring with distant echoes of thunder. The Oathsworn Vanguard party begin their trek down the mountainside to reach the town they had just witnessed the senseless murder, -- no, massacre -- that had just taken place. Right as they get near the usual paths along the mountain, they encounter a squad of Horde patrollers.

There was a Goblin engineer that was particularly a pain in the ass. He tossed a grenade right to the feet of the party, a brave panda took it upon herself to dive over it to guard the others from the blast. It was a terribly painful blast, but thankfully all injuries sustained were not too serious and could be treated by the healers and medics on scene. Naturally the Goblin became the primary focus of the Vanguard and he didn’t have the time to so much as even draw another breath. The Orc, Troll, and Forsaken soon fell under their blade as well. Curious a Sin’Dorei had yet to be spotted in Stormsong.. Was it the weather that dissueded them?

The team was now not too far from the town they were determined to reach. It was littered with purple robed tidesages, they weren’t exactly attempting to hide anything so this was definitely a safe town for the Kraken Sage. It would be important to the Vanguard that they not get everyone in the town’s attention. They found a courtyard tucked away, to the side, and saw blood stains all over the stone. The party made their way to the sight of the massacre and now there was only one man, a prisoner no doubt. He was on hands and knees, scrubbing away at the blood and softly sobbing.

The man’s name was discovered to be Brother Wayland, he was a young tidesage in training, like Brother Winston had been. He was very helpful to the Vanguard, he told them about the prisoners there in the town, who had been broken of will, and would either convert, or become husks of whom they once were. He spoke about the few who retaliate, and how their fate was death, brutal and insidious murder. Now he was cleaning up after such an act for merely standing up for a fellow prisoner. At this time a purple robed sage has spotted the Vanguard and was approaching. Brother Wayland lowered his head and got back to scrubbing away at the blood soaked stone pavement.

“Nice talk you havin’ there?” A rhetorical statement as she followed up with “Let the peasant get back to work. What are you doin’ here?” A Vanguard Paladin spoke up, “We heard of a group called the Krakens Counsel and are seeking more information.” The lady paused and held out a kraken idol. Having positive confirmation the Vanguard engaged. The woman was not a great match for the party, but following her demise, the kraken idol spewed a haze of purple and she arose. She was horribly disfigured now, barely resembling the likeness of a human, her head morphed into what looked like an octopus, with long tentacles drooping down from where he mouth and nose once were. A fire paladin purified her soul to death with righteous and holy flame.

Brother Wayland felt free to speak again and with urgency told the Vanguard of a third Elder Sage in the counsel. The third and final general that if eliminated would surely shoo out the Chancellor. He would likely be forced out of hiding in order to recruit more to his following. He then told the group where this Elder would likely be. They offer to help him escape but he refuses, as he knows his fellow prisoners would be punished for his disappearance. The party affirms they will send in a liberation party, just ensure no one else is murdered in the meantime.

The Vanguard follows Brother Wayland’s instructions on where to find the third Elder and arrive at the cliff of a mountain overlooking a wide river, wide enough for ships to pass through. The Elder was spotted performing a ritual, like the others had, except this Elder had bodyguards. Undeniably due to a security increase. Once the Vanguard had engaged the enemies they found that the bodyguards were for the most part staying out of the way.. A messy fight ensued, with all manner of magic, shamanistic calls, and glorious blade strikes. The man, Elder Gordon, became significantly weakened and collapsed, a crack was heard as his head slammed to the ground. Now the two body guards pulled out their kraken idols and crushed them. They then mysteriously fell unconscious. The gasses then flowed to Elder Gordon and encompassed his entire body. They hovered over him for a moment longer than what would seem appropriate before a scaled hand was spotted balling into a fist. Elder Gordon had taken on a grotesque form even more monstrous than the cultist seen in the town. The Vanguard once again brought blade to throat, for the good of Azeroth.

The Oathsworn Vanguard team was then healing those who had been injured in battle and assessing any long term ailments that would have any impact on duty, when something was spotted at the waterline. The same armored man, the Chancellor, had flown in on gryphon-back to meet with a courier. This courier was sporting the colors of Drustvar. Curious now.. What’s Drust got to do with this? The encounter was brief, and after the Chancellor handed off an envelope they both flew off in different directions. The Vanguard set the best of their clandestine operatives on the case of the Chancellor and the Courier, and waited for the intel to come in.

(Two weeks later, at the Office of the 9th Oathsworn Vanguard, located in Boralus)

It was late in the afternoon already and an urgent meeting had been called, and instructions were given to come armed. A map of Drustvar lay sprawled out across the table, with various points of interest marked. One particularly stands out, having a red wax stamp on it featuring a gryphons head. Lieutenant Myferae wasted no time once all were accounted for, “Good evening Vanguard, as you know we have had our best clandestine operatives on the case of the courier wearing Drustvar colors. The one we saw meeting with the Chancellor after dispatching all three of his elders. Well we have received positive confirmation that the courier has been spotted in Falconhurst this evening, and is staying at the inn. We must act on this time critical information before we lose our shot at exposing the Chancellor.” Following the brief, the Vanguard rolled out with an enviable haste, making way toward the destination marked on the map.

(Falconhurst, Drustvar)

It was nearly midnight, darkness clouded the area, with only a feint semblance of moonlight peeking through. The only other light that permeated would be the numerous lamp posts throughout the town. Drustvar harbored its own welcoming party to the Vanguard. When making their way through the city, they came across a pack of angry wicker wolves. Fortunately the wolves were weak and fell fairly easily, but following the wolves was a trio of upright standing wicker beasts. Two spirit binders and a wicker horror. The spirit binders stayed in the back and began channeling a bright blue beam toward the horror, the Vanguard decided the best course of action would be eliminate the binders before they found out what they were doing. The Horror became enraged and performed a bladestorm like attack, using only his bristly arms outstretched, he cleaved the party and gave them splinters. Nobody likes splinters so obviously they had to kill him. Once the group was done with him there lay only a pile of wicker mess. The townsfolk moved in and assured the Vanguard they would burn the beasts and they could move along.

Once at the inn, they all filed upstairs, following the intel gathered, and sure enough, lay sleeping in bed was our Drustvar Courier. A fear inspiring interrogation followed suit. The courier awoke to a mechanical spider atop him, he eyed his dagger, then quickly changed his mind when he looked over and saw the rest of the group. The courier held out for a while, but he could not endure the entire night, he eventually spilled the beans. He told the Vanguard that the Chancellor had paid him well to distribute letters or recruitment, renewed work contracts, and mercenary hires. He was able to inform that the Chancellor never spoke of his name, but that he is a skilled warrior, and seeks even greater power through the magical realm… He is on a quest to become something like a dark paladin, and he was somewhere in Drustvar that very moment in search of yet another source of power.

Having gathered all the information they could from the courier, they elected to imprison him and turn him in to Boralus for judgement. The Vanguard make their way out of the inn and notice a burnpile and give the townspeople a nod, the nod was returned and they turned back to marvel at the fire. The group then made their way to the docks. At the docks they discovered a hulking Wicker brute. This big guy was pushing a dingy back and forth in the water and making a grunty “splish… sploosh..” noise with his mouth. It was an interesting sight to behold. The Vanguard Field Marshal was able to gleam from the beasts’ rudimentary mind that the Chancellor arrived here by boat with only a Kraken sage guide, and the sage had taken off back to the sea once he had stepped ashore. She also saw that he ate a fisherman and it was incredibly likely that was the fisherman’s boat the wicker brute was playing with. Having gathered enough information from the beast, she released him into the water. The wicker brute became enraged and struggled to get back on the docks. The Vanguard was able to get a few attacks in before he jump out of the water and land on the dock with a concussive force that would rattle the wooden structure back and forth several times. The beast was then put down for good, and tossed over the side and into the water.

The group explored the dock further and found a large kraken idol. They were quite curious about it and someone tried picking it up, but it was quite heavy and they dropped it, it shattered and a toxic purple haze began to spew but a skilled mage was able to revert what had happened in that quick second with a time warp. The team now knew to treat it with much more care, and called in an extraction party to safely transport it. Meanwhile as the kraken idol stuff was happening, a few of the party had noticed a dockworker and had engaged in a friendly conversation with him, for some even maybe too friendly of conversation. Um, haphazardly, the dockworker had become utterly smitten by a certain Dark Iron Duchess. Fortunately that meant that he would be spilling the beans, and he told that he had plans to make way for Stormsong the next morning. He invited the Dark Iron and told her that if she wanted her friends to come along they would need the permission of the blacksmiths, as he was a new recruit and they had worked for the Kraken folk for some years already.

The Vanguard made their way off the docks, through the town, and up the hill to the blacksmiths workshop. They arrived to see an argument taking place between 4 men. One of them, an older man, stormed off to a shed and emerged shortly after covered in blood and had donned a pig's head over his own. He wielded an axe and a sword and was going after everyone and anyone in sight. He had lost his mind, but it was not the time to find out why, first the Vanguard needed to subdue, or eliminate the threat. The blacksmiths were frightened and stood back as the professionals did their thing and within minutes the crazy pig man had been dispatched. With the situation de-escalated the Vanguard was able to talk to the Blacksmiths. They observed some rusty kraken pins on their blouses, and inquired what they exactly do for the krakens counsel. The blacksmiths shared that they are crafting a variety of things, ranging from cannons, to ship parts, to armor. They even shared that they had received a pay raise and an invitation to move to Stormsong. The conversation was cut short when the Vanguard heard a piercing scream of a woman in distress. The party broke into a sprint to the house across the way and immediately discovered a wicker horror, two tentacle faced sages, and a poor woman, held aloft by the kraken sage magic, as the wicker horror stabbed her through the abdomen. “This is what happens when you oppose us!” cackled one of them. The Vanguard unanimously enraged and brought a swift death to the three, but unfortunately the last K’thir cast a spell on the entire party.

The Vanguard leaves the house and by sheer coincidence they spot the Chancellor and a truly massive wicker beast, it had to tower at 11, maybe even 12 feet tall. This was a Wicker Spell Master, and the Chancellor had allied with him, and was bringing him to Stormsong as well. The Vanguard froze in their tracks by the K’thir spell, and was unable to give chase soon enough, and the Chancellor was able to escape with his Devout Elder Kraken Sage, and the Wicker Spell Master. Once freed the Vanguard makes haste to the docks, where the Chancellor had called in rear guards. The Vanguard did battle with these Kraken sages but were stalled too long to catch the head triad of the Counsel before they were off the horizon.

Following the battle the Vanguard found the Dockworker who disclosed his name as Thaddius and was now bearing a shiny kraken pin. They told Thaddius that they had met with the blacksmiths and told him that they would be joining him to Stormsong. They of course did not need to divulge what exactly happened with the blacksmiths, nor mention that they had not discussed an invitation. The sheer power of conviction in telling Thaddius that they were too going to Stormsong was enough convincing for him. He shared with them the location on the map where they were to sail for, and lucky enough, they all could take boats out of Falconhurst! And thus the Oathsworn Vanguard set sail for Thresher’s Wharf, Stormsong Valley.

(To be continued)

#OathswornVanguard story stromsong drustvar

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