#well kinda cursed drow but drow still

[alifelongpassed]

“Your Majesty, look! Soon we won't need the lantern anymore. The light will guide them to you, all to you, your Majesty. For you. For you.” 

[alpaca-clouds]

One thing about Halsin

I am currently thinking way too much about Halsin, because... Again, I love this dude. He just is one of the most wholesome of your companions and... I did not know I needed a hunky, hairy elf, but apparently I needed a hunky, hairy elf.

But writing a bit more about him, I also have to say, that I also love him for the whumpy and angsty stories you can write for him. Given all we know, there is quite a lot of whumpy material in his past. Be it with him and the drows, or be it just the fact that he has already lost so much in his life.

(Also, yes, I am still going with: He is a werebear. Might write something about that later.)

Something I cannot help but think about, though, is... Well, look, I am not better than y'all. I am sexualizing the hell out of this man. Because... I mean... Just look at him! I am a simple man, and I just really would like to climb this mountain, you know?

But I cannot help but also think about how - if the character was real - he would feel about it. Because I can see that within the universe... Well, he is exotic. There are not a lot of hunky, hairy elves around. And while within elven society he would probably be seen as ugly (because usually elven societies do like androgynous looks - and DnD is not really different in that regard), he would also probably be seen as exotic enough that quite a few people would go: "But it's a kink!"

Especially given the fact that folks at the Sword Coast are generally quite liberal when it comes to sleeping around, I can kinda see a lot of folks just wanting to climb that mountain once, if you get my drift.

So I can see him both getting flirted with a lot - and sexually harassed as well. And given how he talks about his Underdark experience for the most part (as if it was not traumatizing at all), I think he would try to brush it off. But that does not mean, it is not hurting him, right?

Especially as he is yearning for a closer connection. Or has been for a long while before the curse at least. He wants a partner (or more).

And it might be I am projecting a bit much of book!Geralt onto him there, who is very much in a similar position (because he is a Witcher folks wanna bang him, but he wants a relationship and family, which nobody wants to have with a witcher).

And man, folks. Thinking about this just makes me want to hug this big bear of a man.

[clazberryk]

Tav's Nightmare.

Well i did it chapter one is up. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Depression, suicidal tendencies.

Please look after yourself and read only if you are comfortable. There is nothing graphic.

Well this kinda took on a work all its own. My work is not ususally this angsty. Maybe i should not write when i am struggling but also, i know the importance of sheddign light on topics like this. I will say there is a hapyp endign to this. Promise.

So without further ado: I give you: Tav's nightmare. Pairing: AstarionX Tav (Female)

Chapter one: Darkness

He felt her twitch and tense in her sleep, the telltale sign that not everything was copacetic in her mind as she slumbered. Sighing he pulled her tighter against his chest, she was nestled on his left side, arm lazily thrown over his waist, no cloth barrier just the two of them, skin to skin, it was a novelty for him, for his skin not to crawl, for him not to recoil in terror or disgust, he loved it.  He loved the feel of her breath against his solar plexus, tickling him, he loved the weight of her pressing down on him in her sleep, their legs entangled together. It was perfect. His mind was at peace for the first time in two hundred years his mind and he was at peace. It was laughable that he was so at peace and yet she was not, and the world was close to ending.

Ever since the fight with Cazador she was having worst nights, the nightmares did not scare him, and witnessing what she witnessed in the fight, the lead up to the fight would impact anyone, regardless the strength of their character. What he did not like, what did scare him was how cut off she had become the following days. How withdrawn into herself she had become, even their companions were starting to notice. Constantly asking him if there was anything that they could do to help, the worrying glances when her back was turned or when she was occupying herself with a task in their shared room at The Elfsong. Often him, Karlach and Gale had shared knowing looks however he was unsure of what he, himself could do. Astarion was out of his depth with this, with supporting his partner, his equal, but he did certainly know that he would do anything he could to help her through this.

Astarion had no illusions of being her knight in shining armour because he was not one, he was no hero, no ethereal prince from a fairytale that would fix everything with a kiss and whisk her away to a fairytale land, as much as he wanted to. He was just him the person she had chose to spend the rest of her life with, which if he thought too much about still overwhelmed him but he found with each waking day he was becoming more comfortable with the idea, even starting to think on their future and what to do after the battle with the elder brain. Astarion was not stupid or oblivious he knew she had her struggles had even opened about some of them in their many nights of just talking in the Shadow-cursed lands. He knew she was a closed book, that he was slowly getting too open and read page by page, chapter by chapter. She was not quick to trust, but once you had her trust, she was quick to defend. She wore her emotions in her eyes, and even on that first night in camp he saw the depth of the pain in those brown orbs, she hid it well in her demeanour and everything else, but her eyes were so expressive. Did she know how expressive her eyes were?

Those brown depths held so much pain, sorrow, lose but there was a slowly growing fire every time she looked at him, every time she smiled at him, or he smiled at her, every interaction between the two of them he saw that fire get stoked just a little brighter. A shine, an ember, a fire just for him, he knew what that shine was, what that fire was, he at first felt guilt for it, which led to that fateful night after she defended him against that awful Drow, when she supported his decision without questioning, even feeling her magic grow hotter in her blood as the Drow kept pushing and she shut her up with a simple remark.

“He gave you his answer” and walked away even dropping and smashing the potion the Drow had given them from her blood. It was then he knew that his simple plan had fallen apart and the warring in him calmed and the side he never would have betted on, the underdog, the side that he had been supressing and pushing further down since The Underdark had won, he no longer wanted her to be a conquest, he no longer wanted her to be a mark, he wanted her. Not her protection. That is when he realised, he wanted ALL OF HER! This was further cemented when he watched her die at Moonrise and resurrected by Withers, he knew when she stood tall with him against Cazador, and they nearly lost but she let everything loose in her magic, even to the weakening of her and when she threw herself in front of Cazador’s necrotic claws and he saw her fall. He knew with every fibre of his being. He wanted all of her. He wanted to be better for her, yes, he still had craved the power of The Vampire Ascendent, but he wanted that power not for him anymore but for her, to protect her any way he could. However the look of pure pride she gave him, her eyes shining bright when he turned away from it was worth a life in the shadows.

So, if it meant that he be there for her however he could during her difficulties it would be no difficulty for him, he would learn how to support her and be a solid constant like she had been these several months of travelling. He pulled her in tighter, kissing the crown of her head, and closed his eyes, she had been quiet for a while, usually that meant her mind had quietened as well.

“Run Tavi, run” She looked around the horizon blurring as her tears gathered in her eyes, her mothers frantic voice screaming at her to run, the fires around her growing brighter and closer.

“Tavi!” Her mother’s profile was then right in front of her, pushing her away from the burning village, her home burning. Tavi turned and ran as far and as fast as she could, she could feel the fire burning in her blood, her breath burning in her lungs, she felt every contract and snap of muscle propelling her forward, away from danger out and away, just like her mother always told her to do. See danger. Run from it. Do not approach, do not engage run. It is how is you survive Tavi. She kept running until she could no longer see the orange glow in the horizon, she was surrounded by darkness, the middle of a forest, she slowed and turned for her mother, and gasped. Where was she?

“Mum?” She looked around maybe she had fallen back a little, she was not a spry has the elf was, not as young as Tavi, her mum was only a half elf whereas she was a full elf, regardless how mixed her blood was, she was still leaner, faster, eye sight more prominent “Mum?” Tavi called, fear constricting her words, she started back the way she came but saw nothing “Mum? Mum? MUM!” She screamed, her body folding over on itself has her fear took over, she could not be alone, no not alone, please no. She could not do this. It was too much. Please? Oh gods, please? However she knew, she knew in her heart of hearts her mother had pushed her away and saved her life.

The scenery merged and she was stood on the porch of her small home with her partner, she was crying, arms folded tightly against her midsection, watching as her partner, no ex-partner was leaving, never to return because of her.

“Mum?” She called out, crying, wishing she could be held by those comforting arms, anything to be loved again, unconditionally “Mummy” She fell to her knees her emotions crushing her, in the space of Tenday she had lost her unborn child and her partner. “Mummy” She fell sideways in a foetal position and just cried, her mind broken, her body exhausted, her heart shredded out in front of her. Even her magic did not answer to her call.

She was walking down a road, she could see the cityscape in the distance, she was unsure of the day, week, month, or the year. She just had a purpose, albeit a small one but a purpose, nonetheless. Tonight was the night. Tonight, she would have her answers. She was dressed in simple travelling clothes, her hair left down, what was the point of putting it up anyway, nobody was waiting for her at home. She had no one, no one to answer to, no one to come home to. It was her, alone in this never-ending world that was too bright and too dark at the same time. Just get to the top of the tower, all you need to do is get to the top of the tower.

To the top of the tower.

Fear, did someone scream? Was that her screaming?

Restricted, she could not move, a strange reptilian woman flooded her vision, she was restricted as well, she watched as a tadpole was inserted into her eye. She passed out again. She did not want to see those endless rows of teeth.

It was too bright, she rubbed her head, trying to shield her eyes and her headache from the too bright sun, her senses smelt the burning debris, no, no, no, no not again. Mum. Mum. Mummy! Tavi forced herself to her feet and saw that she was not in her village that had just been raided and pillaged by bandits, she was on a beach, it was a crash site, there was a dark-haired woman on the ground near her. She walked towards her.

Flash of silver, the cool feel of a blade at her throat, she fell backwards and landed with a thump, her breath forced out of her lungs, a silver curly haired elf had a blade to her neck, of course this would happen. She was denied death, so the universe deemed her its plaything.

“I saw you on that ship” The elf snapped, tightening his grip on her, the blade cutting closer into her skin, she did not feel it though, she felt the pressure dagger, but the pain did not come, she was numb. “Nod” The elf snapped, and she mechanically nodded. “Good now what the hells did you do to me?”

The Emerald Grove, the Tieflings, the goblins, the night out in the clearing, the Underdark, The shadow cursed lands. Moonrise, The Absolute, Ketheric, The Chosen Three, Murkyl, the guardian, CAZADOR!!!

Tavi gasped, her eyes taking in the room, and where she was, her heart and mind racing, it took her a few minutes to get her bearings, for her to realise where she was. The Elfsong, in their bed. Her head against Astarion’s chest. He was trancing, and she smiled softly.

He will leave to eventually. You know this.

The voice was back, did it really leave? She knew it was getting less the more that her and Astarion talked, but still it was back. Her malicious self. Her true self.

You bring nothing but death. Making decisions for everyone else.

No! he loves me. Tavi clasped her hands over here ears trying to block out the words.

But has he said it? Tavi could not refute that, because he had not said it, she loved him by all the pantheons she loved him with every fibre of her being. She would sacrifice herself to save him. She had done against Cazador. You destroy everything you touch. Your father left disgusted by your mixed blood, your mother left, dying because she could not spend another second of your whining weak self.

No stop it, she died to save me. She told me to run!

And run you did, the one thing at which you are good. Tavi stood grabbing a shirt, she was unsure if it was his or hers, pulling it over her head she smelt the Rosemary and the Bergamot and knew it was Astarion’s she sighed, looked down at the pale elf, ensuring he did not rouse from his trance, and headed towards the ladder that took her to the roof of the Elfsong.

Running again. No surprise there. Tavi blocked out the voice as she lifted the latch to the roof of the tavern, and looked up int the night sky, stars for as far as she could see. It was warm, but there was a cool breeze blowing in from the docks. Tavi shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, for warmth but also to just hold herself together.

Stupid worthless girl! You should have perished with your mother, then all this would not be happening. Shadowheart would be a Justiciar, Wyll would not be a devil, Karlach would not have a life sentence. Lae’zel would not be running from her Queen, and your beloved Astarion would be ascended.

NO, no stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Tavi turned away from the voice, it was starting to take form, and once it took form there was no escaping it, she slammed her hands over her ears and snapped her eyes closed. If she could not see and she could not even hear then it was not there. The monster that stayed in her, watching, waiting, lying in wait. The beast continued the diatribe.

Kept him weak, so he would not leave you, so he would not realise how worthless you are. Just a silly worthless lost little elf girl. Too weak for him, to weak for anyone. Kept him weak so he was your equal, so that there was never the risk of him leaving. Gone, gone, gone. You only have until the end of the world, tick tock, fast approaching. There have been no talks of after has there. He is not going to bring it up, denying him his freedom, denying him his life I the sun so he can hide in the shadows with the lost little elf girl. Selfish bitch!

Tavi stood up straight then, tears streaming down her cheeks, pleasantly numb again. Numb she could do; numb she could deal with. She walked to the edge of the roof, looked down into the square, she could just make out the fountain was just outside Sorcerers Sundries, they were going with Gale today to help him with his research. They could do that without her. They did not need him. What point was a sorcerer in the group when they had a wizard, a well renowned wizard at that Gale of Waterdeep. They did not need Taveleigha of who-knows-where. Lost little elf girl. No mother, no father, no child to call her own.

I mean, it would not take much. Headfirst, nobody could stop you. Smash the brain, smash the tadpole. It would be over. Would be quiet. Isn’t that what you wanted when you first came here? Before you were taken. Tavi knew the beast was taunting her, and she could not deny it. She had originally come to Baldur’s gate to kill herself, before she was snatched up in a whirl of purple smoke. She moved closer to the edge her toes hanging over the edge, the beast whirling around her, leaning over her suffocating her, pressing down.

[bigassmoth]

Drider (boyfriend?) OC:

As a drow he was involved with many court ladies. Initially he was the lover of one or two but his skill in bed and voracious sexual appetite gained the attention of many elite drow. He worked too well, Loth became upset with the number of orgies happening when her drow should have been focused on oppression and murder. She turned him into a drider as punishment- knowing that he would be spared by the court but likely die by the claws of another drider while trying to satisfy his sexual needs.

He was desperate, pent-up for months because he refused to court another drider just to get his head bitten off. His lifestyle was refined but isolated, he found himself upon a steep cliff with a connection of caves above a cursed forest (he being one of the things that made the woods so cursed, of course). His former patrons had taken enough pity on him, turning a blind eye to his sneaking in to his old abode to swipe his treasures and finery. He decorated his new home with his expensive furnishings and webbing. Along with stolen or found valuables that dotted the treacherous forest floor.

As a drow he was more timid, able to take on a submissive role because so many were eager to bed with him. This has changed as a drider, he knows he will not be sought out and is resolute in making the first advance. Loths touch warped some aspects of his personality. He has lost his sociable nature, feeling no loneliness where he used to flit among crowds like a butterfly. There is still a need for appearances but the source has changed. As a drow he cared about his looks and manners as to appeal to others- always presenting himself in to be tempting. As a drider he is prideful about his looks and daily life- seeing himself as better than other driders for his good table manners and furnished home.

In bed he....

Frequently uses bondage, the spider part of him is still instinctually afraid of death after intercourse. So having helpless bedmates makes him feel more secure.

Delicate and experienced in bed. His touches are soft but practiced. There is no hesitation when he undresses his company or slips his fingers into their hole(s).

With his experience he is turned on by sexual training. He will guide his lover into the proper way to pleasure him.

Not ashamed of his drider body once he got a look at his dick, so any isgust/fear of his bedmate is ignored or brushed off as an overreaction. Will use his spider limbs to correct and guide his lover while his hands are busy elsewhere.

Fangs contain poison in a regular dose, but only numb in small doses. He would rather his partner feel him fully but if they are too tense then he gives them a gentle nip near their tailbone or pubic region.

Big on dirty talk. Praising his partner for their warmth, their sweetness, their softness. He means every word too. When not whispering absolute filth he is very loud about his enjoyment, often louder than his partner

If his partner is a more permanent fixture in his life (staying with him or nearby) then he will find a way to tie them up for a day so he can have 'public access'

^encasing them in a wall of webbing with their ass facing out. Fucking them before he leaves to grab supplies and plugging them up until his return. Coming back to fuck them again. Doing chores and cleaning them up. Making dinner and making a mess of them again. His captive is fed and taken care of over the day. What he likes the most is the boredom inflicted on them. Making it so when his unseen touch comes, they are shivering in desperation. He is a sex fiend, having someone who he can enter whenever he wants gets him drooling. It also couples with his sexual training kink, how many holes can he stuff? How long could they handle a ring/cage?

Drider instincts lean away from aftercare (more of a fuck and get away before you die kinda life) but he prides himself on not doing that. Aftercare is important but it becomes an extension of the sexual experience. Even as he is cleaning and massaging his lover, he will be nudging the head of his cock against their mouth (to also be cleaned ofc!) And rubbing their nipples/sex into hardness. There wont be any post-sex cuddling with him. He isnt cold and will provide some headpats and chaste kisses before leaving to do something else.

Frankly I can see him enjoying a harem. But it would be kept small because of his aversion for social gatherings. His harem pets would probably have little time for conversations with each other, alternating in silk prisons for his use and being exhausted in bed. The first time a new member meets the others would be during an orgy.

Wants his lover to get wet just by the sound of his legs tapping closer to them. For him this is a sign that they have overcome a natural response and his sexual training is successful.

[bananasfosterparent]

Playthrough Updates #4

(is it actually #4? I honestly don't know lmao let's say it is)

🌊Silkina the Waveservant Bard

Silkina has gotten to the Underdark safely and is currently on her way to visit the mushies! Nothing super exciting has happend that's worth mentioning, but I did finally do a photoshoot with her and Wyll which was very fun. I also downladed a pirate outfits mod and so she has a few new outfits and accessories that are ocean themed! I also changed her outfit to the wavemother dress but an alt version of it. I wish it didn't clip weirdly at the arm pits, but what can ya do?

✨Solenia the Drow Cleric of Elistraee

Solenia and Silkina are in the exact same spot lol Well, Solenia is a little further along and at Grymforge!

The biggest change is that I decided to have fun with Solenia's hair lmao I have a cool anime-ish, Final Fantasy-esque hair mod that had this spiky pontail situation and I really wanted to use it for someone. Solenia felt like a good choice lmao She's still not exactly romancing anyone atm but she'll probably go for Halsin depending on how that all goes!

She's very adamant about saving the slaves in the Underdark and helping the gnomes and it's my first time really doing that, so woo! Oh she also saved Bolen which was a first for me lmao Usually Efenity just blows up the whole area and steals the stuff that was in his bag 🥲

🌩️Efenity the Storm Sorcerer

Changed her hair and outfit YET. AGAIN. I just have to accept that I will never not change it every couple of days lmaooo

Anyway, she's the furthest along out of everyone because she's my comfort Tav and I get lost in her playthroughs 🥲yes the playthroughs with my Evil Tav being the worst person alive are somehow my comfort playthroughs... I don't get it either. Plus, I kinda follow a "routine" with her since I have a storyline she goes through, so it's familiar after doing it 6 times and still never getting past the final fight.

She has gone through the gauntlet of Shar, the whole shadow cursed lands, fought and defeated Yurgir and his minions, and I left off with her and Astarion getting the news about his scars from Raphael.

I love this conversation because it's one of the first moments Efenity's perspective on Astarion's situation can be directly acted out/spoken. She's always like "SO... there's a way to become a living vampire. Jot that down cause we are coming back to that. Cazedor is a POS and we gon' take him down."

🍃Enyana the Dryad (wood elf Druid)

Enyana's a little behind the others, but she JUST got to the Underdark! And I mean JUST got there.

She saved Halsin and I've been enjoying her and Gale a lot.

There's a sort of timid but curious vibe between them (at least, in my head lmao) that makes me happy. Can't wait to get to more romance scenes with him!

[lawful-evil-novelist]

Genuinely, I cannot stop thinking about how isolated Kimmuriel must have felt when he first joined the Bregan D’aerthe, how isolated he must still feel.  Considering how psionicists interact with the wider world and each other in canon, it kind of makes sense how Kimmuriel interacts with the world, and also how people interact with him.

In the Forgotten Realms and Pathfinder, at least, psionic humanoids have a habit of forming kin-groups with other psionicists, often forming their own tight-knit communities.  You can also notice that a lot of psionic creatures are highly social.  Myconids and illithids form large kin-groups and I even checked through Fizban’s Treasury of Dragons to confirm most psionic dragon species tend to be very social as well.

Kimmuriel grew up in this kind of environment.  House Oblodra is an intensely close-knit psionic community–a toxic, undeniably unhealthy one, but a psionic community nonetheless.  Kimmuriel’s first, and probably most comfortable, mode of communication is his psionics; it’s telepathy.  We even kinda see it in Servant of the Shard where every drow or human Kimmuriel interacts with struggles to recognize shifts in Kimmuriel’s manner of speech or expression, even as his general emotional control slips.  When the illithid Yharaskrik first talks with Kimmuriel, we get an immediate read on the tone and emotion of his thoughts.  His thoughts are reverent, he’s surprised and initially scared, when asked about his family he’s angry.  Kimmuriel communicates his emotions with far more ease in his thoughts, it’s almost literally his first language.

And as much as I’m sure Kimmuriel considers Jarlaxle and the Bregan D’aerthe a new home, as much as he cares for Jarlaxle and empathizes with Drizzt and has grown to tolerate Artemis, Kimmuriel is routinely blocked off from communicating in the way he is most comfortable.  Jarlaxle regularly blocks Kimmuriel access to his mind, and he’s routinely chastised for entering into other minds, something the early books take time to show is an instinctive action Kimmuriel does without thinking.  Even on this lower level, a lot of people around Kimmuriel find him off-putting and creepy.  Artemis calls him strange, and is visibly uncomfortable with his abilities.  Kimmuriel reads minds instinctively; he outright refers to it as a curse in Starlight Enclave.  I almost feel bad, listening to him talk about his powers, fully aware people find him weird.

I almost think Kimmuriel hangs around illithids for more than just intellectual pursuits; I think he just desperately wants to be somewhere that lets him communicate with psionics without telling him he’s overstepping or getting mad at an instinct.

Like I think he’s emotionally in a much better place than he was in House Oblodra.  That environment was toxic and everyone in it suffered but I can’t help but think about Yharaskrik’s first impression, when asking Kimmuriel about his family, is that Kimmuriel gets angry.  Because Kimmuriel didn’t just lose his family, he lost everyone in his life that could speak the language he was weaned on, and wanted him to speak with it.

[sorcerous-caress]

I’m glad you mentioned about Sean viewing Randgrid differently after his bad ending because I have definitely thought about how he’d be around his fellow Merry Men after his bad ending. Bad ending Sean would be very hateful towards anyone who doesn’t agree with him or anyone who even ever had a past of selfishness and greediness. He’d take low shots at people’s background “Zarek wasn’t your mother so consumed by greed they turned you into one of those statue actors on the street?” Stuff like that. Him hating Randgrid because she is the spawn of a dragon would also show how far he’s fallen because I always imagined him believing that there are no naturally evil races. “All goblins are evil? Nonsense those guys just suck.” He’d turn on the companions too even if they had their good ending, Astarion and Gale for being power hungry, Wyll just for having a noble background, hell maybe even Karlach for fighting for a devil and working with Gortash even if it was against her will. If Sol was a companion he’d probably turn on her for her dragon heritage.

But enough about that the last Merry Men kid is Alfred Nikolas a goblin Artificer nicknamed Fun-Sized Fred. He is based on Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol. He was taken in by Lord Marion (genderbent Lady Marian) as more of a protégée than an adopted child given his parents are still alive and still on good terms unlike the rest of the kids. He became a well-known artificer using the money of his version of Scrooge after he gave all his money to Fred’s family when he passed. Fred uses modified crutches to get around but they double as his weapons. Really wish they had Goblins as a race in bg3 so I could make him in it. I’ll just have to make him in Hero Forge at some point.

Okay, wait, I'm obsessed with the potential for Sean and Sol interactions. Let's play barbies with our OCs for a hot second.

Let's say by some miracle the two of them end up kinda friends in act 3. Maybe a series of failed bullying attempts from Sol that just strengthened their bond instead.

Now bad endings! Sean gets hyper-vigilant and vindictive with his judgment. Everyone is put under the microscope and all their hearts are weighted on a scale against a feather just so they wouldn't end up on his list of enemies.

What if, Sol gets their bad ending too. But since Sean bothered to befriend them, they think "oh. Maybe he belongs to my hoard."

It's basically about 2-5 years of life before they die. Might as well make the most out of it yk? So eventually after amassing all the gold and gems they want, they think it's time to round up the people they care about.

Romanced Tav tied up in gold chains in their chambers? Check.

That one druid who was nice to them and restored their flower? Check.

That dog who didn't bite them too hard when they tried to pet it after he smelled dragon on them? Check.

Now, time to get the friends.

Ascended Astarion and God Gale would be too hard for Sol to manage with their short lifespan so they'd skip them. Sharran Shadowheart would hide too well for them to find and Lae'zel is on another plane of existence serving Vlaakith.

Halsin is there, free to grab. They pass by his village and don't look back. He can stay, he's not on the list.

Minthara IS on the list however. Although they have no idea where she is in the underdark or how to get to her. Did she get killed? They'll pay some drows to search for news about her and wait.

Now Sean, he would be fun because Sol is on the list of his enemies. He would seek them out himself. Afterall it is his fault for being kind to them to the past, now they see him as a part of their hoard.

And oh they'd be so delighted, he spared them the trouble of hunting him down, how kind of him, now off to the cage.

But he just keeps escaping, it's driving them crazy how time after time he comes trying to steal from them or kill them, and they throw him in a pure gold cell and the next day he's gone.

Do they have to pin him down with magic? Curse him with a tracker? How does he keep managing it? They follow him in their dragon form and take back their gold, pick him up with their claws and return him to the hoard.

It's a constant cycle of playing tag, except it is murder and steal tag.

-

If it's their good ending they'd just be confused, there is as much dragon in them as there are wings in a fish, even their scales fell of buddy. They're fully human.

If he brings up their past, it would anger them. After all, they sacrificed? After all the effort they've put in to change? Now he brings it up? Sol would call him a hypocrite for befriending their awful self before and coming to hold them accountable now.

I doubt it would work or convince him but honestly words is all Sol has at that point. They're a low level human fighter who lost all their powerful magic, not even a family left to hide behind. They're weak and defenceless and an experienced rogue could easily take them down.

So they'd keep attempting to use their high charisma to convince him or at least distract him from their trail. They might be able to overpower him with strength, but he'd be too tricky and slippery.

Him coming after them even after their half-frienship would hurt them but they'd never show it. It wouldn't anger them.

But him going after his own family? That'd infuriate them so much because he definitely talked the whole camp's ears off before about his family and moms and how much he loves them. They'd take more offence to that than him betraying them

At least Sol knows themselves, they were shitty and deserved it, but his family weren't shitty to him. Especially if he brings up Sol's greedy family after condemning his own. They'll dig at him for being just as rotten and greedy as the rest of them.

But also, that is all hypothetical bc I'm not even sure if Sol would bother kidnapping anyone but romanced Tav, yk? Like platonic Tav wouldn't interest them and they'll just increase their security against Sean instead of putting him in their hoard.

Man Jaheira has her work cut out for her, first Ascended Astarion neighbour, then vigilante Sean lurking the streets and now a dragon-human mutant flying over the city and stealing everything.

Not mentioning corrupted Arch-Duke Wyll and the Shar cult just below the city with Justicier Shadowheart.

-

Anyway goblin guy let's goo!! When I read fun-sized-Fred, I thought of scooby doo Fred ngl. And omfg modfied crutches that actually shoot bullets? It's like that one meme with "call the hospital call the hospital...but not for me" and Fred lifts his crutches and starts firing and it's glorious.

The only one on good terms with his parents, if he is adopted I wonder if he ever thinks about his bio parents. Sol would probably encourage him to, because they feel a special connection to their kin, be it another draconic being or their actual family and would think that Alfred needs to experience it too.

[kalach-cha]

i have a question abt denandras... u mentioned that u got the worst possible ending, which one did u get? and was it particularly bad for denandras or just a bad one in general?

hi!! thx for the ask!

so basically with denandras it’s important to understand that he is a cleric of eilistraee and that comes with a LOT of baggage. he romanced both astarion and halsin, both of whom have themes of losing bodily autonomy, and i really wanted to reflect that when making his character. eilistraee really values freedom, and denandras took it to such a self-sacrificial level that made narrative sense but just rlly rlly hurt my soul. his backstory was that he was a lower-class drow in the underdark, and was an entertainer for a much more powerful drow house. he got stuck in the crossfire of a coup and had to escape to the surface, where he ended up finding freedom in his worship of eilistraee (and this was back in the 1300s DR, when eilistraee made all of her clerics undergo the changedance and prevent as female). (denandras was AMAB but definitely had an already strange sense of gender before the changedance, which made him appear much more feminine. he presented as a woman for many years and had pretty mixed feelings about the whole thing- as of BG3, he’s still got body type 2, but uses he/him pronouns. still kinda wish ppl didn’t refer to him as a man in-game, but oh well.)

so basically, his ending: because lae’zel was kinda his bestie and he was all about personal freedom, he freed orpheus/turned on the emperor (who he Also romanced), and allowed himself to become a mind flayer in order to defeat the absolute. this ended with both halsin AND astarion breaking up with him, and him being implied to be suicidal as a result of it. gale was bugged and even though i did the sorcerous sundries questline and had maxed out his approval decided to ditch me to become a god. wyll, despite being free of his pact, went back to avernus w/ karlach. shadowheart didn’t even get an ending scene, but she killed her parents. astarion wasn’t made ascendant, but kinda ditched in the end anyway. jaheira didn’t get a scene either. so yeah, basically denandras made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of freedom, both pleasing and kind of alienating himself from his goddess, and now is cursed to die alone :3

[quenthel]

also... i'm too lazy to draw it all (and im not sure many ppl would even BE interested lol) but I had specific ideas abt what bodytypes my tavs have...

Oxoth is tall and had broad shoulders but she is pretty skinny. Strong arms and back and thighs, and with a pretty androgynous silhouette. Her scales are also mostly copper but she has wider plates on her forehead and chest and on the front of her thighs where they turn to greenish-blue. Her claws are also the same color as well as some of the plates on her arms, and the tip of her tail and horns. She is also missing an eye (ty volo) and has scars but im not 100% married to that idea (bc they would no longer be visible if she malts). She is a very imposing presence overall and hunches a lot but even then she towers over most people.

August is tall for a half elf (a bit taller than most humans, he is taller than Gale for example). He also has a rather soft build and his arms and legs are a bit skinny, while he is soft around the waist and belly. Despite that he is rather bony too. Also he does not have a lot of body hair overall. And he has many tattoos ofc lol. W his face the most important features are his full black eyes and his nose. He also has piercings and paints his nails. He is also very confident so he always stands up to his full height. Kinda played around w the idea of giving him top surgery scars but also its a world of magic... maybe he cast a tit remover spell on himself at some point.

Dutiful is short (like drow are supposed to be lol) and very thin. Covered in weird burns and scars and she lets mushrooms grow in that scarred tissue. She also walks barefoot everywhere. The shrooms are mostly what seem to give her any strength or endurance bc she looks incredibly weak and sickly. Also she is like around a 100 years old but still looks very wrinkly bc of a curse or smthing.. adds to her sickly aura. When talking she also tilts her head downwards a lot and gazes up at people. She also has very captivating purplish red eyes.

[tyvani]

TFW you’ve been in Barovia for two days and you’re a half-drow that grew up in Menzoberranzan (no spoilers, please!)

[baronfulmen]

D&D 5e Race Changes

Wizards of the Coast (the publisher of both D&D and Magic: The Gathering, owned by Hasbro) is doing something that is, frankly, bizarre.  It started with them making it so going forward races in D&D don’t have set Ability Score Increases (ASIs) which, honestly?  I support.  Make it easier to have a gnome barbarian or whatever, that’s just good fun.  But a lot of people were annoyed, and wanted the ASIs to still be listed even if they were optional - they want to know what the default is even if they’re going to ignore it.

I personally didn’t care, because I think that ASIs are the least interesting way to make different race options feel interesting and unique.  And so I ignored the people yelling that Wizards of the Coast was trying to make all the races feel the same and strip them down to bare bones, making them bland and boring.

But uh.  Yeah, turns out that is in fact what they’re trying to do.  They’ve released something explaining that going forward all races will have the same boilerplate text for Age and Size information, saying that the life expectancy, height, and weight are all basically the same as human.  This is... really strange.

Obviously you can always override it.  It’s a game, nobody is going to come to your house and make you play a certain way.  But as worded it’s ridiculous, and they used the same wording for a Small race (Small being a size category with actual in-game mechanics) and a Medium one.  So now gnomes are the same basic size as Goliaths or whatever.  Sure.

So why are they doing this?  Are they just lazy?  Well, I think so - but maybe not in the way you would expect.  There are reasons to believe this isn’t the normal kind of lazy where they just can’t be bothered to assign an age range to a race, but is instead one of my least favorite kinds of lazy where you just refuse to try and understand why people are upset.

See, a while back there was some backlash against a few things in D&D.  First, they had some stuff that played into some stereotypes about Romani people.  Second, some folks were upset that Drow in particular felt kinda problematic.  Drow are a type of Elf that live underground, and they’re cursed and always evil and so they have... uh... dark skin.  You know, in comparison to the good and kind pale skinned elves.

To be fair, this is borrowed from some mythology that doesn’t have anything to do with (for example) the racist stuff spouted by the Mormon church.  But still, it feels... icky.  And along with some other D&D races, it ran into some issues with the concept that a whole people can be automatically evil.  So yeah, it was probably a good idea to work on fixing some of the “gypsy” stuff and noting that whole groups of people aren’t just automatically categorized as evil.

But it seems to be the case that Wizards of the Coast didn’t really try to understand WHY those things caused complaints, and are now trying to remove any details or differences because they can’t tell what would and wouldn’t result in someone considering something problematic.  It’s... exhausting.  Guys, for the love of god, nobody is going to say it’s racist for gnomes to be short.  Nobody is going to say that not letting their rabbitfolk character be eight feet tall is discriminatory.  Get your heads out of your asses.

And because that seems to be the motivation, you have people saying “Ugh these fucking SJWs ruin everything” when no, it’s not that, it’s the people at Wizards that are too lazy to try for actual understanding or too cowardly to take the slightest risk.

Anyway.  Yeah.  That’s a thing that’s happening.

[toastyrps]

paladin trio - tanvir, cory, and carter: 12, 17, 26, 31, 40, 68

oh boy, really making me work for this one huh lol

ok im gonna try to put a readmore because it got a little long haha

🐅 Tanvir is my drow paladin of vengeance

🐮 Cory is my firbolg paladin (lvl 2 so no oath yet!)

👁‍🗨 Carter is my variant human paladin of the crown

12. how have they altered their body? piercings, tattoos, biohacks, or other modifications—anything. why (or why not) did they (or someone else) make those changes?

🐅 Tanvir — the most obvious change isn’t necessarily like a body mod? but he’s significantly scarred up on his torso from the Incident that led to him becoming a were tiger. He does also have a pierced ear but tbh it’s probably closed but because it’s been so long since he’s worn an earring.

🐮 Cory — no body mods or changes for Cory; although he’s definitely thought about getting a tattoo before, he never has.

👁‍🗨 Carter — uhhh nothing I can think of! besides of course the temporary tattoos of the script of a cursed book covering his body for some time…. He might be a little turned off at tattoos at this point tbh.

17. they’re crying—what did it take to make them cry?

🐅 Tanvir — It’s either tiny drops in the corners of his eyes because he’s feeling bittersweet or nostalgic, or he’s actually letting himself have his breakdown of the decade thinking about the people he’s lost and how much it would hurt to lose the people he currently has.

🐮 Cory — Despite feeling a lot of emotions all the time, Cory really doesn’t cry - unless of course, he’s drunk, in which case he could think about a baby animal and start crying.

👁‍🗨 Carter — Carter really doesn’t cry tbh, unless he’s like…. [redacted] if you know what i mean ;)

26. what type of person pisses them off?

🐅 Tanvir - people who are mean to his friends, transphobes, incels

🐮 Cory - people that are rude, people who litter, people who ask him “how’s the weather up there” because he doesn’t understand because the weather is the same

👁‍🗨 Carter - anyone that insults Circe, people who consistently ask him what’s under the helmet, people who are rude to horses

31. do they respond well to praise? how about criticism?

🐅 Tanvir - praise: he does a lot better with accepting it now than he used to! but he still gets kinda awkward about it and tries to brush it away. criticism: depends on who it’s coming from! if he cares about their opinion he can sometimes take it a little too hard, but if he doesn’t care about them… then he literally gives no shits

🐮 Cory - praise: oh it’s like crack to him. he blushes very easily and it makes him feel all warm and happy. criticism: he may die a little internally, but he really tries to use any feedback to improve himself and not make the same mistakes again!

👁‍🗨 Carter - praise: he doesn’t know what to do! he isn’t used to it!! he’s really awkward about it tbh, but with circe he just… completely melts. criticism: you know that picture of the stick figure without a face but you can feel the unimpressed exhaustion? that.

40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?’

this question is really difficult!!! im not really sure id change any of them like that, because i feel like they grow and change over time whether i like it or not lol but here are some thoughts:

🐅 Tanvir - he deserved to multi class bard i’m just gonna say it. he’s living his best life in some au’s i tell you what

🐮 Cory - lol tbh i would have rerolled his stats i think… i think maybe i rolled like, right above the cutoff or something? poor guy. but i’ll just have to get inventive with leveling up i suppose!

👁‍🗨 Carter - oh boy idk… i made him for a one shot (which was soooo fun) and im not sure if there was really anything i would want to change? id love to get to play him for another one shot tho, and figure him out more!

68. where’s their home?

🐅 Tanvir - he is from new haxon, on the coast of the xhorhasian empire, but he currently resides in rosohna, the capital

🐮 Cory - lil man is from bumblefuck nowhere and is honestly a little overwhelmed at his big fancy college strixhaven! but he’s getting more comfortable now that he has friends :)

👁‍🗨 Carter - the only home he’s ever known is waterdeep, and the forsaken keep that he grew up in and continues to work for into adulthood

thanks for the ask! <3

[quasieli]

top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me. 

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.  

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous. 

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation. 

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!  

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic. 

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year. 

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12). 

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better. 

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best. 

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her. 

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.  

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First! 

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.    

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience. 

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao. 

[silva-vinandi]

Verse Summaries

My energy to write replies is kinda out in the pasture right now so I’m gonna write up some ideas that I’d like to try in the future instead and hope that sparks a little something in me lol If anyone’s interested in trying out one of the following, feel free to send in “Verse” + the name of the AU you want to write!

Talyn:

The Prince of Avernus (Main Verse) - With blood touched by two different beings (one being Azkin, and the other being Zariel) Talyn finds himself in the middle of a clash between the Lord of the First Layer of Hell, and a Demon Lord who seeks to invade the Nine Hells, starting with Avernus. He learns from Azkin that he intends to turn Talyn into a living weapon, designed to rival the ferocity and strength of Zariel herself. Finding a cure for his curse has never been more important.

Demonic Tendencies (Bad End AU) - The corruption coursing through Talyn’s body shows no sign of stopping or slowing. Talyn lives in constant pain as he tries to fight it, but ultimately runs out of time as the darkness changes him. Talyn has been dead or a week, however suddenly those closest to him find his grave disturbed, and body missing. Shortly after, reports of violent deaths come flooding in, and few survivors have described a man with eyes black as night and skin of ash tearing innocents to shreds. Talyn, Son of Azkin, has been reborn with only vague memories of who he was before, and an endless thirst for blood.

Melody:

Starstruck (Main Verse) - Finding herself thrown into motherhood, Melody retired from a life of adventuring and danger, and now resides in a sub-portion of the Amanodel Estate with her daughter Vylria. The Estate also houses the family of Vylria’s deceased father, Cyrus; consisting of a family of Wood Elves. All said and done, Melody seems happy, however even in her quiet life, her past still tries to haunt her in the form of a mysterious tiefling man with her name on a bullet and a past forgotten.

Far Away (Bad End AU) (tw miscarriage mention) - The tragedy of Melody’s life did not end with the loss of her love, Cyrus. Retiring after suffering injury and stress led quickly into a miscarriage, leaving Melody with nothing but a broken heart. Now, after hearing of the loss of most of her friends, she has never felt so alone. Wandering the realm, she seeks only one thing: A way to bring Cyrus, and perhaps the rest of her friends, back from the dead. However, old enemies seek to finish what they started. A new breed of darkness threatens the mainland from Stonewall, and Melody is one of the few who knows anything about it. It’s a race to find where she has gone before these creatures from the void destroy the world.

Kadyn:

Healing Hands (Main Verse, ft. @unsungxheroes) - Kadyn was among one of the many forces sent to Stonewall upon request for reinforcements. He met up with a team of misfits and witnessed their destruction at the hands of beings of the Void. He narrowly survived thanks to the aid of a Star Elf, and made his way back to the mainland to warn those who would hear him. So when he reunites with a past lover who runs part of a traveling bath house, he takes the opportunity to travel with them in hopes of meeting notable figures and spreading word and warning of the dangers to come.

The Doctor Is In (Modern/Zombie Apocalypse AU) - Kadyn has built himself a busy life of caring for people in the local city hospital. He is well respected for his steady hand in surgeries as well as his vast knowledge of alchemy. However, when word of a new disease taking the world by storm reaches him, he devotes himself entirely to building a vaccine. Now, with the world falling apart and the dead roaming the streets, the Evergreen Hospital is the only safe haven for refugees.

Amera:

Seeker of Stars (Main Verse) - Seeking to follow in her father’s footsteps, Amera has devoted her life to traveling the world, making a name for herself, but also seeking to earn funds to help her father’s recovery from a crippling wound that forced him to retire. She’s a kind, if not intimidating soul, and despite her Oath, seeks to aid those who cannot help themselves, and protect them. She has become a paragon of Justice, Law, and Mercy. So when a cult called the Wanderers begins to rise, she takes on the duty of finding these escaped souls to send them back to the Realmspace Crystal Sphere where they belong. (This AU is a wip and may be adjusted in the future)

Kairo:

Beast Soul (Main Verse, ft. @nomadiisms) - Kairo was born into what constitutes as a Noble family of Drow, entering a family of himself, his parents, and his older sister Nizana. Growing up, he was taught good posture, good manners, and was decently educated. However try as they may, his parents never could quench his thirst for mystery and adventure. After reaching adulthood, Kairo decided to explore the outer reaches of his home, and found himself captured and brought to an arena for the amusement of others. During his time there, he spoke out against Myza and as punishment, he lost his voice via a severe throat injury, and was given to a group of mages intent on using him as an experiment to create a soldier of extreme strength and fury. Kairo has since lost a sense of who he was before, and instead is a stoic beast of a man with few social skills, trying to learn how to feel normal again.

[fivescuddles-blog]

sweet and innocent | five hargreeves

a/n: sorry for the wait! i’m currently drowing in requests and homework haha, but i hope you enjoy this regardless! took my a while because i kept getting interrupted so pleeeease leave feedback uwu

requested: “if you have time, could i request another fan fiction with five hargreeves where they were childhood friends but he’s cautious about love so he distances himself from her?” - @spazclaiire

characters: five hargreeves x reader, pogo

word count: 1,095

summary: a certain hargreeves has been avoiding you and you need to find out why

warnings: swearing

~

Five had been avoiding you. That you were certain of.

It was getting really frustrating, every time you tried to even speak to him was met with a short answer before he abruptly turned away. You just didn’t understand it.

You’d been friends with Five ever since you were children since you lived just down the road from the Hargreeves manor. You didn’t have powers, but this honestly just made it easier for you to become friends with the kids. They found it nice to be able to speak with someone who didn’t have to deal with a controlling father or controlling powers. You were close with all of the Hargreeves children, but you always seemed to have a special bond with Five.

He was you best friend. He always had been. You spent all your time together. And now, he was pushing you away.

So you were determined to find out why.

A sigh left your lips as you walked down the street towards the Hargreeves manor, the great house taking up most of the room on the street. You could still never get used to the sheer magnificence of the house, no matter how many times you went over.

Confidently, you walked through the grounds, making sure to keep an eye out for Five, perhaps reading a book or training in the solitude of the gardens. But no luck.

Instead, you decided to try inside. Going up to the door, you gave a loud, strong knock, not having to wait long before Pogo arrived, opening the door with a smile on his face.

“Miss Y/N, you’re back I see,” he said, grinning as he let you in.

You returned his smile. “Yep, good to see you, Pogo. And what have we said about calling me Miss?”

“I’m sorry, Mi- Y/N,” he corrected himself before raising his eyebrows questioningly. “So, what brings you here today?” He asked.

A sinking feeling was felt as he asked that. “I’m uh, here to talk to Five,” you said quietly, the confidence you had previously had dissipating slightly. “Do you know where he is?”

Pogo though for a moment. “Yes, I do believe that he’s in his room. Would you like me to get him fo-”

“No, it’s fine,” you smile gratefully at him, feeling slightly bad about cutting him off. “I’ll just go to him, thanks Pogo,”

He nodded before walking away, leaving you standing in the entrance of the manor. You took a deep breath before advancing towards Five’s room. You could hear the music seeping through the cracks in the door, soft David Bowie filling the air. Finally, you were in front of the door.

Bracing yourself, you knocked.

You heard the music cease inside. “I said I’m busy, Vanya,” a voice spoke inside, before the music continued once more.

You sighed and knocked harder which was met with an equally annoyed sigh as Five stood and” marched over to the door. Flinging the door open, he stopped completely once he saw your face.

“Oh… you’re not Vanya,”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you said, annoyed, before grabbing his elbow and dragging him inside the room, slamming the door behind you. There was a silence as the two of you just kind of stared at eachother awkwardly for a bit.

“Sooo… what did you want?” Five asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. “I’m kinda busy right now, Y/N,”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth. “Busy, huh? Busy my ass, Five,”

He was definitely taken aback by that, his forhead furrowing as he stared at you. “You’re always busy these days! Hell, every time I come over it’s always the same fucking excuses. I’m busy, I have work to do, I need to train-” you spoke in a mocking voice. “-honestly Five, it’s getting really fucking annoying. Listen, if you don’t wanna be friends with me anymore that’s completely fine, but don’t make me feel like I’ve done something wrong! It’s really shitty,”

You finally finish your rant, making sure not to gasp for breath at the end and destroy the amazing finish you had just made. Five said nothing throughout the whole thing. He just stood there, unmoving, an almost scared look on his face. But you’d had enough. You were not going to stand here and be made to feel like the bad person. You rolled your eyes at his silence before going to turn away.

But you weren’t able to.

A hand gripped onto your shoulder.

“Y/N/N, I...”

Now that grabbed your attention.

You turn around to face him, your questioning eyes meeting his genuine regretful ones.

“Y/N/N, I’ve been really shitty to you lately-” A snort left your mouth as you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,”

He hushed you impatiently. “Yeah, I know- It’s just that… Ugh, fuck, I’m so bad at this,” he cursed, withdrawing his hand and looking away. “Listen, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. To push you away. It’s just that I didn’t know what else to do.”

You were honestly so confused right now. What on Earth did he mean?

“We’ve been friends for so long and I… when I… when I started to feel, well, more than just friends feeling for you, I- I got scared. I didn’t want to scare you off, I guess. You’re the only friend who I’ve ever been able to trust completely and if I was to hurt you or… you were to hurt me, I… I don’t know what I’d do...”

Uh, gobsmacked wouldn’t even come close to describing what you were feeling right now. Five was looking at the floor, his eyes focusing on the details of the carpet and honestly just wanting the ground to split and swallow him whole. He felt like he���d completely ruined everything.

A soft hand caressed his cheek, making him look up to meet your eyes. He had a look of genuine fear in his eyes, but not the kind of fear you’d get if you had to jump off a high cliff. No, the type of fear you get when you’d just admitted a dark secret. A secret you’d held for so long.

He could hardly process it when you softly pressed your lips against his, gently moving in sync as the two of you slowly sit on the bed to the side of you. It was sweet and innocent, two words that no one would usually use to describe Five Hargreeves.

But when he was with you, sweet and innocent he was.

~

tua taglist: @spazclaiire @dora-the-grownup @thegirlwholikestomanythings @stungray @sayardentlyinlove @emotrinityfangirl @woohoney @agentvicinity @izzynuggets @ghostygooweirdo @probablynotfinnwolfhard @gummyhoneybees @scream-kiwi79 @iamsnek666 @hargreives @the-galaxy-witch @fabricationofreality

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 16: No Not Like That

Aw, been a while since I wrote one of these! Anyway: we run into some dickheads and try to solve things the not-murder way for once. 

On the road outside Bad Herzfeld, the trolls slowly begin to peel off and go their separate ways. Dr. Kjeller and his new bodyguard Kjell are the last to leave the main road, stopping to say goodbye to the small contingent of humanoids.

“Welp, dis trolls’ moot has certainly been an experience,” Dr. Kjeller sagely intones. “I would not say a success. The two of us are going to tour around and tell all the trolls we can find to stay away. I believe a trolls’ moot is not uncalled for, but we must look for a different place. Ideally one not full of weird fungus people. And, please, if there is anything I can do to help you….well, I guess you’d have to find me first.” He tips his travelin’ hat and departs. Gral tips his mask in return. He’s getting the hang of these Valdian customs!

It seems like the Orcish outriders have already left to report back to Duke Shieldeater, so it’s just us, the Fairgolds, and the beleaguered innkeeper and his daughter. What do we do with the civilians? I mean, we’re headed to Mornheim, and even if we’re gonna fix the water it seems kinda rude to drop someone off in Zombie Town. Flynn offers to introduce Aaron to his innkeeper uncle back in Holzog, to see if he can get a job there.

Flynn and Fiona are gonna stick with us to Mornheim. “Look, you had all the fun up there in Bad Herzfeld; I’m not gonna let the four of you get all the glory. You’re gonna do a big ritual and save the whole town? I gotta see this.”

We spend a couple uneventful days hiking back to Three Oaks Junction, where we’ll split up with Aaron and Rebecca. The DM tries to waylay us with a destroyed bridge over a fast-moving river, but we have a Ring of Jumping and a magical alligator. We’re fine. We roll some bad perception checks on watch and our rations get stolen by Curse Raccoons.

ANYWAY. As we get back onto the major roads, Gral is the first to notice something odd: there’s no carts coming from the direction of Three Oaks. Sure, it’s late evening, but last time we were here there was still a heavy buzz of activity through the busy trade stop. We approach extra-cautiously, making sure the civilians are in the protected center of the group.

The town comes into view, and it’s immediately obvious something has changed. A hasty palisade wall has been constructed around the town, and a banner has been hung over the gate, white with a red insignia of a bloody chain.

Shoshana groans. “AAUUUUGH, are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”

“Um, did the town always look like that?” Rebecca asks hesitantly.

Valeria shakes her head. “Not last week, it didn’t!”

Gral pulls the duo aside and gives them the Cliffs Notes: “We’re about to run into the Penitents. Talk about Rack as much as you can and hide behind Valeria. I hate dealing with these folks, but it looks like they put this place on lockdown, and we gotta make sure y’all are safe.”

Outside the gate, there’s a uniformed Penitent Knight keeping watch over a group of citizens who are digging graves. The gate itself seems to be manned by standard town militiamen, being supervised by another Penitent. Valeria casts a quick eye over the scene with Detect Magic, but finds nothing amiss. As she approaches (we’re wisely letting the paladin lead), a guardsman shouts “Halt!”

She stops at a polite distance. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service,” she announces formally. “What’s going on here?”

“By order of the town council, all who seek admittance to the town must submit to examination for heretical artifacts or influences,” the guardsman recites, scriptedly. The Penitent behind him nods in approval.

She meets his eye with an intimidating draconic stare. “We have artifacts we need to bring to the Cursebreaker Knights. Perhaps we can check them at the door and pick them up later?”

“Uhhh,” the guy says, his script clearly not having prepared him for that. “…maybe you should talk to the Inquisitor. He’s gonna want to speak to you about these ‘artifacts.’”

He has us wait a minute, and we take a quick mental inventory. We’ve got an evil skeleton tapestry, spooky lutestrings, the Eyegis, and one (1) entire Shoshana.

A group of six Penitents arrive and escort us stiffly into the town. The place is crowded as all get out; it looks like a lot of travelers have been stuck here way longer than they anticipated. There’s only two properly empty spaces: one’s some sort of enormous construction site, and the other is the area where the circus tent was; it seems nobody’s been brave enough to move into the spot or even clean up the ashy, crumbling remains.

There’s a rather unusual cart sitting among the crowded caravan parking, immediately familiar from the two reptilian beasts of burden hitched next to it. There’s a bit of a staredown happening; two Penitents are remaining remarkably steadfast in the face of two enormous, glowering tattooed figures. We can’t pop over to say hi; our escort is hustling us along and we’re not sure that knowing us would do Lucinius any favors.

Valeria’s about vibrating out of her skin, indignant at all these unfairly-detained innocents, and looks about a second away from drawing her sword and opening up a can o’ Righteousness. But no time for that; we’re being ushered inside the sheriff’s office.

The small-town hoosegow is cramped; there’s been makeshift cages built all along one wall, seemingly as some kind of holding cells, all of them full. Shoshana appraises the prisoners out of the corner of her eye. They all seem to have slight Curse mutations, but so vaguely that it could just be garden-variety weirdness. Sure, that guy could be a werewolf, but he might just be a real hairy dude. That lady looks sallow and corpselike, but not more so than any garden-variety resident of Mornheim.

Shoshana, her clawed hands shoved deep in her pockets, is strung tense as a lutestring. Valeria’s still managing to feign chilly politeness, but both of them are half a breath away from fight or flight.

Gral’s not looking at the prisoners. He’s too busy looking at the guard. There’s two burly Penitents at the door, which is unsurprising, but Gral could swear he’s seen the one on the left before.

He’s pretty sure we killed that guy back at the roadhouse.

The guard doesn’t seem to recognize us at all, but he’s pretty badly scarred, exactly in the way someone might be if they took a hit from a drow soldier’s greatsword.

We’re pulled out of our wary observations by a familiar, unwelcome voice. “Ah. Kyr Argent, wasn’t it?”

“It is,” Valeria allows frostily, as the Inquisitor glides into the room.

“It is good to see you again – in a manner of speaking,” he says, chuckling at his own joke as he gestures to his blindfolded eyes. “Yes, from the descriptions of the heroes who defeated the heretical circus, I suspected I might have the pleasure of working with you once again. What brings you to Three Oaks Junction?”

“Oh, we’re just passing through. Y’know, like travelers do,” she answers, her polite smile showing just a little too much fang.

“Yes, of course. As you can see, this town has become very useful in our war against the Curse.”

“Is it, now.”

“After the incident with the circus, the town council was afraid. Many of them had attended the performance, after all. They were worried that there might be some…aftereffects. Fortunately, my people were nearby, and they summoned me immediately to examine the town for signs of the Curse’s corruption. As we were here, it became clear what an asset this town is – just as the heretics used it to corrupt many at once, we can use it to root out those heretics who hide among us.

“On our first day here, we found one who bore the mark of the curse. I examined him myself. Foul lycanthropy. He was, of course, executed. Now, none pass through this place without our inspection, and we have found many others. You may have seen some of them outside, awaiting a more thorough examination. My work has kept me too busy to give each case the attention it truly deserves.

“The town council has been very accommodating. I have written to my fellows, and we are working on converting and expanding their humble chapel into a true bastion of Rack’s justice, where the divine light of the gods may lay bare the evil that hides among us, that walks the roads of this land spreading its poison.”

Gral mutters, aside, “Don’t think anyone’s walkin’ these roads now…”

The Inquisitor claps his hands briskly. “Now. I understand you are in possession of some artifacts, objects that you are transporting on behalf of the Cursebreaker Knights. I fear for our brothers amongst the Cursebreakers; their mission is noble but they meddle with powers they do not understand. There are things in this wood it is better not to trifle with. Bring the items to me, and I will inspect them. Those I deem acceptable may remain in your protection, but anything too dangerous must be destroyed. Should the Cursebreakers fall to corruption, we would lose some of our greatest assets in this war. Help me protect the Cursebreakers, Kyr Argent. Show me what you are transporting for them.”

Valeria nearly decks him then and there, but a quiet brush of shoulders reminds her of the trembling sorceress behind her. Not here, not now, not when we’re surrounded. If they get an excuse to get aggressive, Shoshana’s sunk.

We busy ourselves with pulling out Weird Yet Harmless artifacts. What kind of random space trinkets did we find, again? Clem shows them the Eldritch Cookbook, and we take a gamble by letting them look at the Pale King’s tapestry, which is a bit large and hard to hide.

“Very well. I will examine these,” the Inquisitor says smoothly, his tone giving no insight into whether he knows we have far more blasphemous things to hide. “Gunter! Find them lodging within the town. Once I have examined these items for corruption, I must confirm that none of you have been corrupted by their presence.”

Valeria smiles tightly. “I’m certain they are corrupted, but not corrupting.”

“With all due respect, Kyr, I have made a study of corruption. Now, because of your…esteemed position,” he says, gesturing toward her rose-emblazoned armor, “you are no doubt on a mission of some considerable importance. I will endeavor to expedite your case as much as I can.”

“Oh, there’s no need to give us special treatment. All the travelers here need to get through,” she responds pointedly.

The Inquisitor’s serene, condescending expression does not change. “You may go,” he dismisses. “I am very busy. As I’m sure you know, the work of good in times of evil is ceaseless.”

Valeria bows to the exact millimeter that politeness requires, and no further. He’s blind, and doesn’t notice.

As we’re ushered back out, Shoshana tries to catch the eye of one of the caged prisoners. They mostly just look scared, not evil, and there’s no sign they recognize she’s also corrupted.

Clem, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to scrutinize the weirdly familiar guy at the door. He looks perfectly healthy, except for all the scars. She elbows Valeria, who confirms with her Divine Sense that this is just a normal dude, not an undead. He’s either one hundred percent living, or whatever nonsense that brought him back from murder is specifically cloaked in a way that would fool a paladin’s senses.

Our escort shows us to a place to set up camp. There are several inns in town, but all of them are fairly occupied at moment. We’re pretty sure that a Knight of the Rose, hero who slew the dread circus, could pre-empt a less fancy guest, but we’re all chill with camping as long as we get to hit up a food truck or something.

We meet back up with our friends. The Fairgolds, who are pretty familiar with Three Oaks, are pretty shaken by the drastic changes. Aaron and Rebecca, meanwhile, are shocked. “Is this what the rest of the woods is like?!” Aaron asks. “I knew things were bad out here, but I assumed once we got out of Bad Herzfeld…”

“Different places have different issues,” Gral explains kindly. “Some are the kind you’re already familiar with. And apparently some places are afflicted with Penitent Knights.”

“Even before that, there was an undead curse which afflicted this place-“

“-Which we DEALT WITH just fine-“ Valeria interjects grumpily.

“-and Holzog’s safe now, but it had its own weird issues we had to deal with too. The Curse is everywhere; you can’t really get around it without clear-cutting the forest,” Shoshana admits.

We get the lay of the land. Commerce has slowed, but not stopped. The Penitents are searching everyone going through here. If they find nothing, they let you go. Most of the crowd is just people waiting for their turn to get checked. We see a few times, though - if something about you pings them as weird, they take you away.

Basically, we are in line at the TSA.

Guess we’ll take a walk.

We skirt warily around a Penitent street preacher who’s shouting something about justice, and casting out evil, and how Rack appreciates your sacrifice in these trying times.

“Sacrifice is a WILLING thing,” grumbles Valeria.

We walk around and do some casual recon. Much of the town is still a perpetual campsite/bazaar, but near the more permanent municipal buildings, several work crews are busy with construction, which the locals tell us is supposed to be some kind of temple. Quite a few rough tents with Penitent insignias are pitched by that area. The town militia is out in force, and it’s much bigger than when we passed through last week. Maybe half of the people running around on patrol are actually trained fighters; most of the new recruits barely even look like weekend warriors. Every patrol, without exception, is being supervised by at least one Penitent.

People are scared, mostly. Nobody around seems happy with the Penitents, but a lot of the people around have reluctantly agreed that Something Had To Be Done about threats like the circus, and there weren’t any other available options. No one’s enthusiastic they’re there, but neither are they vocally critical. Then again, we worry, maybe anyone who’s been speaking out or causing trouble has, uh, disappeared.

We make our way back to our own wagon. If we’re gonna go Get In Trouble, like adventurers do, it’s probably time to part ways with our civilian friends. We pool 40 gold for Aaron and Rebecca (Clem contributing nothing because giving money is WAY too personal; Shoshana giving extra because she’s projecting really hard onto them) and Aaron’s eyes go wide. Oh, right, most people don’t make adventurer amounts of cash? It’ll be enough to get them safely set up in Holzog, with money to spare. They leave to set up their own travel plans, stuttering awkward thanks.

Flynn, meanwhile, grins. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. You guys are terrible liars, I know you’re plotting something.”

We admit we don’t actually have a plan, but Valeria is adamant that This Nonsense Cannot Stand.

Let’s go recruit some allies, maybe? Gral wanders within Message range of Lucinius’ wagon, which is very clearly cordoned off and under guard. Bjorn and Ingborg are still there, but there’s no sign of the dragonborn.

“Heyy it’s us, what’s going on? Over.”

“Hello. We cannot leave. The Professor was taken. They wished to search the cart. He explained what he has and what he has found, that he is carrying important research. He would not allow them to confiscate his research, and he went to speak to the one in charge. That was three days ago; we have not seen him since. It is our duty to protect the man, but we have not seen a way to fulfil that duty without getting ourselves killed.”

We promise to keep them posted, and ask them to sit tight so when we make our move, it’ll be coordinated.

Next, Gral and Shoshana go down to the local pub to see if we can find anyone that’s particularly malcontented with the Penitents. We assume religious zealots are not much for hanging around bars. They don’t seem to be much into worldly pleasures, coughzombiecough.

Nobody’s talking too much shit until they get a couple of drinks in them but we do find some people griping, mostly merchants passing through. Pierre the Demish furrier, who we met back at the Holzog roadhouse, has turned up again; apparently the Penitents seized a good deal of his stock. And he’s been reduced to drinking BEER. He has OPINIONS about that. (It does not stop him drinking lots of it; he has to drown his sorrows at being denied worthy alcohol.)

Gral tries to butter him up a bit by letting him ramble about Demish wine. “When you drink a bottle of Demish wine, you taste centuries of tradition in that vineyard! You taste the earth itself, the hands of the farmers. It is sweet and it stings and it is good. What is this? Barley? Hops? HOPS? Hop is a verb, hop is not an object. Hop is for bunnies. The bunnies may eat the hops, and then I will cook the bunnies,” he mumbles into his unsatisfactory beer.

Gral fumbles for sommelier expertise. “I come from a smaller river village; wine tastes different farm to farm. It’s not just about the plants, but the social experience.”

“It is the same for us, yes? A region’s wine is its SPIRIT. You go to the border of the goblin swamps, and the wine there tastes like fire and blood, like the steel of the chevaliers that defend it.”  Go to Petit le Fere, it tastes like long summer nights. Go to Marsène, the wine tastes like – have you ever been in love, Monsieur Orc?”

“Uh, n-no?”

It tastes like the first time you and your lover locked eyes and laughed together. That was my favorite wine. This? This tastes like mud with pretensions of alcohol.”

“It’s not the steel of the chevaliers, but it’s the taste of hardworking people. And if the penitents have their way, there won’t be a town here anymore.”

Gral butters the guy up enough to find out a few basic details: there’s about two dozen proper knights, but they’ve got local militia and volunteers to swell their numbers. A lot of people are very keen to get on good terms with the new bosses, whether it’s because they’re afraid of the Penitents or afraid of the things out in the woods that the Penitents have promised to fight.

“I was here to get a blood-red deer pelt with wolf’s teeth,” the trader complains. “I know a chevalier who would pay dearly to have it worked into his armor. And now it has been taken away!  For my ‘protection,’ apparently. I had to surrender the rest of my stock to avoid being thrown in those cages.”

Everybody in the tavern seems to be on good behavior – sure, there’s folks displeased with the Penitents, but nobody’s gonna do anything about it; if you look like you might be up to something, you’re gonna get dragged off. And Pierre’s been keeping a low profile ever since he saw that blue dragonborn get dragged down into the basement of the sheriff’s office.

Shoshana, meanwhile, slides over to a tough-looking lady at the end of the bar in militia-style leather armor. “Hey, you look like you’d know the system here. We just got in to town; how long before they search our cart and let us go?”

“A couple days; we got a huge backlog,” the woman, who’s introduced herself as Vanessa, tells her. “Depends on how much they suspect you. Some people, they like to leave ‘em here for a while, to watch ‘em for anything suspicious.”

“You say that like you’re not involved? You’re dressed like you’re with the militia.”

“Technically I am. Second-in-command, or I was, before all this. Not sure who is now. Hell, I was the one making noise at Sheriff Wilbur about getting more muscle after that circus thing. If you folks hadn’t shown up, I dunno what would have happened.”

“So you all get bossed around by the Penitents now?”

“Look, half the kids in the militia right now barely know which end of a spear is up. The Penitents agreed to supplement what we had.”

“…yyyyyeah, it kinda feels like they’re calling the shots, though?”

She sighs. “Yeah. Look, I had the idea that we needed to beef up, bring in experienced vets. I was hoping to get mercs or something, and then they showed up and filled the role. They made some kinda deal with the town council, y’know, they’d provide extra security in exchange for being given jurisdiction over anybody found to be corrupt. Sounded fine to us at the time. See, we didn’t make the connection that if they were with the militia, they’d be the ones making the call who all’s corrupt or not.”

“How many people have been deemed, uh, ‘corrupt’?” Shoshana asks.

“More than I’d like, but not enough to get everyone all up in arms. Everybody’s pretty sure that most people will be fine. Hell, most people probably will be. When someone goes to trial, they take ‘em to the sheriff’s office. That Inquisitor guy looks at ya, says a few magic words, and most of ‘em he lets go. A few get taken to the cages for a further exam. I dunno what that means – don’t know anybody who’s been let go after that. A couple of times he just made a motion and bam, those knights beat the poor bastard to death on the spot and burned all their belongings.”

Vanessa doesn’t look too thrilled about that, so Shoshana decides it’s time to confide a little. “Even with the entire town vouching for me that I helped with the Circus, I’m worried I’m a target.”

“Well, I don’t mean to say anything, but I saw y’all leaving the sheriff’s office. You’re gonna get called in; you’re exactly the type. Even before all those stories about burning down circus tent with your magic powers.” She stares into her beer. “They’ve gotta be crazy. There’s plenty of crazy in the forest for them to deal with, why the hell are they in my town?!”

The problem is, the Town Council, which is what passes for a governing body in Three Oaks, have signed off on the whole deal. “The council’s just three people – the sheriff, Burgermeister Menner, and Remick – he’s the guy who keeps the shrine up and running. They all agreed to have the Penitents come in, but we haven’t seen much of any of them except the Sheriff since.”

Shoshana files that info away for later. “You said the sheriff’s still out and about?”

“He’s – look. Wilbur’s never been the most enthusiastic about bein’ sheriff. We served together, way back, in the house guard of the von Kempt family. Even back then he got the job because he’d been a sergeant. The guy was always happiest taking orders, rather than giving them. And hell, most of the sheriff job was just keeping things running today same as yesterday. But he got pretty spooked by the circus thing. That kinda shit’s scarier than your ordinary pack of wolves or bandits. I tried to get him to do something, but he seems comfortable with penitents calling the shots. He trusts they’re the experts and know what’s best here.”

The Burgermeister’s been pretty busy with this whole thing, apparently, and Remick hasn’t really left his little shrine. The Penitents don’t use that one – they’re more into big prayer ceremonies and dramatically flogging themselves in the street, and they’re starting construction on their own grand temple. Something about “showing faith by constructing a worthy house of worship,” and all that.

Vanessa’s grumbling about the heavy restrictions on the gates into town and the perimeter patrols, so Shoshana strategizes. “Have you had problems with people hopping the fence?”

“I mean, normally, no? Town regulations say go through the gates, but we’ve always had teenagers hopping the wall, or people with business outside who don’t feel like walking all the way to gate – never a real problem, until this whole nonsense. I’m not on patrol anymore, but as far as I can tell people are too scared to try in case they get caught. Probably a good way to get declared a potential heretic.”

Apparently the wall isn’t super well maintained; there’s plenty of places a few charming scamps could get in or out if they’re willing to scramble a little. It’s a trade stop, not a fortress.

We don’t get too much more info around town, and decide to investigate the town council in the morning. We take watch overnight, but nothing happens.

In the morning, we split up to cover more ground; Clem and Gral head to the Burgermeister’s, while Valeria and Shoshana try to hit up the local chief cleric.

Clem and Gral arrive at the biggest house in town. There’s a Penitent standing guard outside the door. They skulk around nonchalantly to the back to properly recon. There’s no Penitents watching the back, so Gral slinks up to a window to peer inside. It’s pretty normal; there’s a woman baking bread. Clem points out that we’ll definitely look like the bad guys if we break into an occupied home, so…the polite approach it is.

“The Burgermeister is not feeling well and cannot see visitors,” the knight at the gate intones.

“We’re here on urgent business,” Gral improvises. “We are the adventurers who defeated the circus; we wish to talk to him about the restoration efforts.” He rolls a properly bardic persuasion check, but it’s still like talking to a brick wall.

However, the door opens behind the stoic guard. “Who is it?” An elegant middle-aged woman peers out at us. “Wait, don’t I recognize you?”

“Yes, we assisted in deposing the circus!” Gral replies warmly. “Gral Omokk’du; I serve Duke Shieldeater.”

“Clementine Haxan,” Clem offers laconically.

“Ah, yes. Please do come in. You left town so quickly, my husband and I weren’t able to properly thank you!”

“We had urgent business elsewhere,” Gral admits, the picture of good manners. “I suppose that’s how life is.”

They make pleasantries with the woman, Meredith, who falls easily into the role of gracious host.

“We had concerns to bring up with the Burgermeister, but what’s this I hear about him being unwell?”

“Yes, he’s been bedridden the last week. A bit of the flu; he’s getting to that age. Mostly it’s just the fatigue, really.”

Clem tuts. “I’m a bit of a medic myself. The flu can be very serious when someone is in advanced years. I could potentially give a clearer diagnosis, maybe alleviate some of his pain?”

Meredith visibly brightens. “I was thinking about sending for a doctor anyway; please come on up, I’ll see if he’s ready to take visitors.”

The Burgermeister has CORONAVIRUS and we’re in QUARANTINE.

She leads them upstairs. “Dear? Aldrich? Remember those people who helped with the circus? One’s a doctor!” She listens for a moment. “You’re tired? You’ve been tired for a week. No, that’s not normal. It’s normal to get a doctor!” She turns back to the two visitors. “He’s being silly, come on up.”

“I don’t need a doctor, just rest!” we hear a harrumphing voice complain.

He is lying in bed in his pajamas. Ah, this is the burger kingdom! No, it’s my burger meistdom

“Hello sir, I’m Clementine Haxan. This is my nurse, Gral Omokk’du.”

“An orcish nurse?” the Burgermeister

“I’m not as experienced as Miss Haxan, but I served as a medic during the Ascension War,” Gral seamlessly bullshits.

“Look I’ve just picked up a bit of a bug and I need rest;” he grumps. “It’ll go away after a bit and I’ll resume my duties.”

“That may very well be true, but gods forbid it’s serious,” Clem says in her best Bedside Manner Voice. “It’ll be good to have it looked it.”

“Ugh, poke and prod me, do what you have to,” he reluctantly concedes.

Clem makes a medicine check with Dr. Wendell’s assistance. The man’s not entirely healthy - his cholesterol is a bit high maybe - but he’s hardly an invalid. He genuinely seems to have some kind of cold or flu, but it’s very mild at this point. There’s no way he should still be bedbound. Maybe it’s just Clem’s standards as an army doctor, but if a soldier came up to her with these symptoms asking to be let off duty the prescription would be “stop wasting my time and go dig latrines.”

Gral insights the guy. He’s not lying; he honestly believes he needs rest. But the way he keeps repeating the word “rest” feels a bit weird. The vibe isn’t “this person feels sick and fatigued,” it’s “this person has an insistent conviction that He Needs Rest.”

“Rest” isn’t a Prisoner buzzword, but Gral’s seen bards cast Suggestion before, and that seems to line up a little too well. Unfortunately, he can’t just Dispel Magic the darn thing; it’s too artful and subtle for that.

Gral decides to fish for a bit more info. “Before we leave you to your rest, how long have you had this flu?”

“About a week? The Inquisitor comes by every morning to update me on the town’s situation. Though I must rest and cannot attend to my duties, a town’s Burgermeister still must keep up with the times!”

“When did you first come into contact with him alone?”

“Oh, I insisted on a meeting when he first came into town a week ago.”

Interesting. The Burgermeister falls ill just in time so that the only information he gets about the town comes from the Inquisitor himself.

Wife doesn’t go out much, armed guard outside

Did he update you on the cage and the executions?

Have been capturing some neer do wells that seek to do harm to town, held for further questioning, some eliminated to protect town like common bandits or beasts.

Saw people in cages! How would you describe them, Clem.

Clem: didn’t strike me as especially dangerous folk

“Well, neither did that ringleader! He only seemed as eccentric as any other traveling performer!”

“Sure,” Gral argues, “but that’s when he had time to prepare his lies and his magic. These scared people in cages wouldn’t be able to hide if they tried. Honestly, the worst I saw was an excessive amount of body hair.”

“Fine, fine, I will inspect these prisoners personally as soon as I feel better, which should be any day now!”

“With all due respect, you fell ill right after this Inquisitor started talking to you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Miss Haxan says you’re fine-“

“No I’m not! I need rest!” the Burgermeister interjects heatedly.

“We saved the town, and we’ve had trouble with Penitents before. I believe he has a spell on you. Please, let me try to remove it.”

“I’ve no time for your insane ravings, orc. The Inquisitor is a man of faith! Now leave me to my rest. Dr. Haxan, I appreciate your diagnosis, but I tire easily these days. Have my wife show you out.”

Gral knows the effect of Suggestion is only about 8 hours, but it’s subtle mental manipulation; it lasts. If the Inquisitor is coming by every morning, that’s the perfect opportunity to refresh the charm.

The two of them head out, Clem politely prescribing a short calisthenic routine for the man and, oh, he’s on the mend but just in caaaase he’s contagious the Inquisitor probably shouldn’t visit for a few days?

His wife agrees that sounds reasonable, but it probably won’t stop the guy. They say their gracious goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Shoshana and Valeria are headin’ to church. It’s a tiny thing; there are naves for the three gods we expect, but it doesn’t have the traditional empty throne of Oberok and we’d be surprised if it had a proper hidden shrine for the trickster god Guile. There’s a few people around, and luckily no Penitents posted outside.

Valeria, of course, stops at the Rack shrine for a short prayer, still getting used to how odd it is to see him depicted as human instead of dragonborn. We notice a few little notes – the Lethe shrine’s sponsored by the local blacksmith. You too can have a sword or hammer just like these, in our showroom down the lane!

A few folks are doing their daily prayers and making offerings. They’re all locals and travelers; there’s not a single Penitent in sight, which is pretty odd. There’s no services right now, so we head over to the old man who’s cleaning up candle drippings under one of the offerings. Valeria introduces herself, at your service as per usual.

“Ah, Kyr Argent! I remember you, from that blond man’s story about the circus! Keeper Remick, at your service. How may I aid you?”

Valeria asks him how, as a keeper of the faith, he feels about the Penitents.

“Well, in these times, faith is very important. And they certainly have plenty of that. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? As a paladin, I’m sure you agree.”

“Faith is one thing, but I can’t say I’m pleased with what they’ve misguidedly done here,” Valeria sniffs.

“As I see it, they’re keeping the town safe. The Inquisitor explained it to me. It’s the will of the gods! Desperate times call for desperate measures, and, well, times are pretty desperate when you can’t even trust a circus! With your mind, that is. With your wallet, Guile walks with them, doesn’t he? Anyhow. These Penitent fellows, they seem extreme, but is there any other option?”

“There must be,” Valeria declares. “They’re detaining people at a crossroads, that’s the work of oppression.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far – see, the Inquisitor explained it to me. He is an experienced scholar of the faith, with a keen – not eye, I guess. A keen sense for the corruption that lurks in the hearts of men. I am, to be honest, just a glorified janitor!”

“I’m certain you’re more than that,” Valeria objects.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. It’s a role I’ve found fulfilling, keeping this place and these people.”

“Well, it seems like they’re brushing past this place in search of something new.”

“Yes, heh. I believe the intent is to make this town a bastion of faith. I’m sure that my little spot here will still remain in use, but more glorification to the gods is good, right?”

We botch an insight check and don’t get a real good sense of him. There isn’t the sense that he’s lying about anything – our impression is he believes it’s not his place to stand in the Penitents’ way; they must know better than him. He’s an old man who’s done a noble job, but he doesn’t think he’s cut out for determining who is or isn’t a danger to the town.

We try another tack: “I understand you’re on the town council?”

“I am. Don’t know why, really. We used to have a proper cleric, decades ago. When he died, I was closest thing to a replacement we had! As the keeper of town’s faith, I hold one of the three seats. Burgermeister Menner does most of running the town, but for the big things he calls in myself and the sheriff and we all take a vote.”

“Then you must have been a big part of bringing the Penitents in?”

“Well, Sheriff Wilbur’s the one who brought their offer to us. I did vote in favor, yes. The Inquisitor showed up personally with his people and described the whole arrangement he had in mind. The Penitents would reinforce and train our militia, and those guilty of corruption would be remanded into their custody for justice. It all seemed very reasonable; sheriff Wilbur does his best but clearly he and his deputies aren’t enough on their own, not against this sort of curse. Burgermeister Menner fell ill shortly afterwards, and I’ve been very busy here doing what I can to keep up folks’ faith.”

Shoshana butts in. “Have you actually been out to see the Penitents work?”

“Yes, once. It disturbed me, but I understand it couldn’t be avoided. The Inquisitor suggested it might be best to avoid seeing such things that upset me so.”

“But if it upsets you – wouldn’t you be the one with authority to change things?!” Valeria demands, failing a persuasion check.

“Oh, voting on anything like that has to wait until the Burgermeister feels better.”

“Can’t council members do anything on their own?”

“Like I said, we’d have to convene to vote…”

“Sure, for the big things,” Shoshana argues, “But the sheriff and Burgermeister have their own duties, don’t you have your own authority as well?”

“I - I suppose I could call clerics from other towns to take a look?”

Valeria puts a gauntleted hand on his shoulder and sparkles at him with all her charismatic piety. “You’re not just the keeper of the shrine, you’re the keeper of this town’s faith. I know you can make a difference.”

The dice land in her favor. “Yes!” the old man declares. “I will-I will do something. What is it I should do? I’m new to this. I’ve held this seat for 20 years but, well, doing something is new. Mostly council meetings are that the Burgermeister says I’d like to increase the tolls, I say the gods probably won’t argue, the sheriff says it won’t cause a riot, and then he does it. I am not suited for a crisis.”

“Well, what kinds of things do you normally do?”

“Er, sometimes I have to sit in on a trial and make sure the prisoner has an advocate?”

OH YOU’RE A PRISONER ADVOCATE, HUH. WELL BOY DO WE HAVE SOME PRISONERS FOR YOU.

“Why, don’t the Penitents do that as clerics of Rack?”

We politely do not laugh in his face. No, no they do not.

“Oh, then I must go at once!”

We’re gonna reconvene with the rest of the party, and then will see the gods’ justice done! After lunch!

The four of us, plus the Fairgolds, meet up. Flynn reports that there have been no changes; the Penitents let all carts through but seized some items, mostly books. We swap info about the Burgermeister and Keeper Remick. The town leadership is hardly good in a crisis, but the Penitents have definitely been separating and keeping them down on purpose.

The first step is to bring in Keeper Remick as our prisoner advocate for those folks being held in the basement. The old man puffs himself up with as much importance as he can, aided by all of us backing him up looking tough. “AHEM,” he announces to the nonplussed Penitent guard, “as a member the of town council and keeper of town’s faith, let me speak with your prisoners!”

Silence.

“Can I speak to your manager? I mean leader!”

The Penitent shakes his head.

“Now listen here young man, what seat do you hold on the town council?!”

The Penitent finally speaks. “I have been instructed to-“

“To work WITH the town council,” Remick retorts, showing a surprising amount of backbone. “No matter how much experience you all may have, it is my solemn duty to speak with the town’s prisoners! Allow ,e to do my duty or I will be forced to write a sternly worded letter! APOLOGIZING FOR FORCING OUR WAY PAST YOU!”

The Inquisitor glides up behind his guard, listening to Remick’s speech. “Very well,” he intones in his eerily calm voice, “You may…enter.”

We are brought down to basement. It’s a set of maybe 6 cells, more suited to being a drunk tank than any long-term holding cell. In one cell we spot the distinctive scales of a blue dragonborn, and as our footsteps clank on the stone, an equally distinctive voice begins to shout indignantly.

“You brutes, I demand you return my research materials to me! I was in the middle of some important work when- oh, you aren’t the warden. My goodness! Kyr Argent! I must say, it’s rather good to see a familiar face.” Oh, hi, Lucinius.

The cells are overcrowded – there must be 20 prisoners across 6 cells. Lucinius and everyone else crammed in with him look pretty beaten up. They all look completely normal; the ones with visible mutations have been imprisoned where people can see. These are the prisoners they wouldn’t be able to get away with holding publicly.

Lucinius has clearly got a rant building up. “I explained to them many times that I am a professor from Golden Academy, and they refused to listen! They said my studies are ‘heretical’ and my magics ‘invoke the name of the tyrant god’ – yes, obviously, they were written during the Aquilian empire, they said ‘Oberok’ every other word! It’s not a dirty word! Anyhow. Are you here to let us out?”

“We’re here to be advocates!”

“Oh, we’ve had advocates!” Lucinius huffs. “The Inquisitor is the prosecution, while one of those fanatic knights serves as our ‘advocate.’ It’s quite far from ideal; their position as advocate is that we ought to confess, if we understand the gravity of our crimes. And then they hit us a bit.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the customs of this land,” Gral allows, “but that doesn’t exactly sound like proper advocacy.”

“Well, I certainly don’t know how things are done in this country! I’ve never been accused of a cr- well, I have been accused of many crimes,” Lucinius admits. “I find it’s best never to assume about local customs. That got me into a LOT of trouble with the goblins. Did you know they have a ‘trial by fire?’ I misunderstood it, they just light a big fire to keep the courtroom warm while the trial goes all night. I went to great lengths to cast Protection from Energy! And of course it turns out casting spells as a prisoner is double illegal…”

“Double illegal?”

“Yes, it means they bring in twice as many judges.”

As he rants, the sight of innocent prisoners in miserable conditions seems to be a pretty strong argument. Remick’s fully on board with booting the Penitents out as soon as he can convene the town council.

Gral’s going to make a show of it. Loudly, he declares, “This is a violation of these citizens’ basic rights! We’ll need a full meeting of the town council before any Penitent activities continue!”

The Inquisitor hmms. “That’s…certainly something the Burgermeister could order. But nobody may leave if they have not been inspected. If we cannot continue our inspections, the town would shut down entirely.”

“The lockdown would only start once the Burgermeister declares it, which hasn’t happened yet,” Valeria interjects testily.

We’re politely and pointedly escorted out.

Lucinius shouts after us, “Don’t be long! Tell my bodyguards these people are not allowed into the cart without a warrant signed by someone of noble rank, or at least with a judicial position! Also, contact the embassy! They can’t do this to me, I have tenure-!”

The session closes as we discuss how the hell we’re going to get a Proper Council Meeting with the sheriff out “receiving instruction” from the Penitents and the Burgermeister convinced he’s indisposed. And we’ve got to get at least two of the three to vote the intruders out. That’s not gonna happen without them feeling like they have some way to protect the town from the Curse.

We fondly reminisce that our previous campaign’s party would definitely have started murdering people by now.