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meowcats734 · 2 years ago

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[Soulmage] There's two kinds of magical disfigurement. One is trollification, where your magic has gone so utterly WRONG that your body shifts into grotesque shapes. It's nasty, but it's usually fixable. The other is Elvenification, which is permanent because you can't fix 'perfection.'

Soulmage

Magic changed you. Over the countless eons since people had began consciously casting spells, humanity had splintered into hundreds of slightly varying species. The mischief-witches of old had become goblins; the Forgivers had turned into fey; and the light-wielders of the Silent Peaks had grown into elves. In typical city-boy fashion, the Silent Parliament declared that the goblins and the fey and everyone who wasn't from the Silent Peaks were grotesque monsters, while the elves of the Silent Peaks were unchangeable perfection that the entire world should strive to emulate. Goblins felt nothing but impulses for mischief; fey would let even the vilest of criminals run free; but alone amongst the varied subspecies of humanity, only the elves felt constant, pure, transcendent joy.

As the only student at the Silent Academy who had actually seen a goblin for myself, I didn't agree—but I'd gotten kicked out of class for running my mouth about it, so I didn't see any point in causing trouble.

Trouble always found me instead.

"Hey there, goblin-fucker," a voice called from behind me. I was trying to study—if I lost my place at the Academy, I lost my source of food and shelter—but the unused classroom I was using was a public space, and there was nothing stopping my classmates from heckling me as they passed by. I turned around; an unfortunately-familiar elf was lounging in the doorway, this week's girlfriend tucked under his arm. The signature halo of an elf blazed around his head, feeding off his barely-restrained glee at seeing me cornered and alone.

"Iola," I said, carefully tucking my notebook into my pocket, then turned towards the girl Iola was holding onto. "I don't think we've met," I said.

The girl blinked, surprised, then shyly smiled. "I'm Lucet—"

"Oi!" Iola let go of Lucet, swaggering towards me. I ignored him, waggling my eyebrows at Lucet instead. "I was talking to you, goblin-fucker."

"I don't see anyone by that name around here," I mildly said. I paused, then deliberately turned towards Iola and wrinkled my nose. "I do smell him, though."

Lucet giggled as Iola's elven halo flickered, irritation momentarily tainting his schadenfreude. "Stay away from my girlfriend, you Redlands freak."

"I would, but you've been dumped by so many of them. I can hardly cross the main lawn without tripping over—" I don't know what self-destructive instinct led me to keep talking when the flash of anger in Iola's eyes ignited, but I knew I'd struck a nerve by the way Lucet flinched. Iola surged forwards, a savage joy stoking his elven glow to life as he surged forwards and slammed me against the wall, forearm pressed against my throat like a steel bar.

"You know," Iola said, a drawling grin on his face, "it's not too hard to make a goblin. Just gotta pump you up with the right emotions for long enough. Would you like that? Huh? Want me to make you into one of those green-skinned freaks?"

Iola's eyes bulged with sadistic happiness, and a bolt of insight struck me like a hailstone in summer.

Elves felt gleeful all the time, even when they really, really shouldn't.

"Do... what you want with me," I choked out. "It can't... be worse... than what they've done... to you."

Iola's nostrils flared, pushing his forearm further into my throat, and I reached for the thorns around my soul to make my escape—

—but before I could, all at once, he let go.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, then laughed, heartily, wholesomely, and it was almost as if we were best drinking buddies and he hadn't just tried to choke me to death.

"You really are a riot, Cienne," Iola said, squeezing my shoulder. "You make me laugh."

Then he lifted his hand and turned away, whistling a happy tune as he walked down the hall.

I rubbed at my neck, fear finally overtaking the self-destructive energy that had been flowing through me. Even if I reported him to the Academy, they wouldn't try to "fix" him.

He was an elf, after all. There was no need to fix perfection.

Lucet tentatively walked up to me, then sat by my side. "Are you... are you okay? I know when he..." She shivered, then said, "I know ice helps. For after." She held out a hand, sorrow condensing into a droplet of cold, a question in her eyes.

I shook my head. "I'm used to it," I said. "I'll live."

She nodded, retracting her spell.

"I like to watch the moon," she blurted out. "At midnight. On the clock tower. It's supposed to be locked, but if you know the right spells, you can climb up anyway."

I blinked, then smiled. "That sounds lovely." I held out a hand. "Cienne."

"Lucet," she said, and shook my hand.

Then the two of us parted ways, our minds already drifting to other things. What we would eat, when we would sleep, how we would make it through the year.

We were only human, after all.

A.N.

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!

First

Table of Contents

#writing #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #writblr #serial fiction #fiction #web serial #series #oc #soulmage

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loveiatar · 1 year ago

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big muse infodump while i work on individual muse pages

abdirak

the alpha muse on this blog (i'm so sorry). we all know and love him. my special boy.

at a young age he was kidnapped by a hag and whisked away to the feywild, where his magic was nursed until he was 'ripe' enough to eat. abdirak is a wild magic sorcerer by birth.

he has the feylost background and the feytouched feat. because he spent such a significant portion of his life in the feywild, his eyes are an unnatural silvery-blue color, and his ears are slightly pointed. he has a naturally high charisma, and people often find themselves charmed by him, since he was raised by the fey. he returned to the material plane sometime after the events of the campaign the wild beyond the witchlight, and has ties in with one of the main plotlines. he was freed by the witch queen, zybilna.

time passes differently in the feywild. by the time abdirak returned to faerun, he was a young man. however, his human family had already died of old age. devastated, abdirak wandered for a long, long time.

he was found by a follower of loviatar, who took him in. she helped him release some of his pain through scourging, which awakened something in him. abdirak took a week-long pilgrimage with the follower to one of loviatar's few shrines, where loviatar touched his mind and claimed him as a cleric.

ever since then, abdirak has been one of her most beloved followers. not her chosen, but certainly someone who has a special relationship with her, given that he is able to give her blessing to those who perform well enough.

haarlep

haarlep was initially a member of mephistopheles' court. and by member, i mean they were mephistopheles' incubus before they were ever raphael's.

they aren't a devil or a demon, they're just a fiend. they original from the abyss and were taken captive during the blood war, several hundred years before being given to raphael.

they were spoiled in the way a lapdog is spoiled. they weren't surprised when they were handed off like nothing, but they were disappointed.

especially because raphael had them change their name and appearance.

haarlep does pretty much everything they can to scorn raphael at every corner. but they do have a soft spot for their brat. :)

dirk

dirk is a 322 year old eladrin beastmaster ranger.

he was a denizen of the feywild. once.

before he was dirk, he was faerunduil inawynn, the youngest son of house inawynn. the inawynn house are the guardians of the queen of the feywild, zybilna - the witch queen's rangers.

dirk was nonfatally injured during one of his patrols, though his leg was cursed to never heal. instead of acting like a normal parent, his father, who only viewed his offspring as disposable weapons, banished dirk to the material plane some 200+ years before the events of baldur's gate 3. dirk has been wandering faerun for that entire time, never settling down.

at some point, around 5 or so years pre-canon, dirk met millie while taking a stop in baldur's gate. millie stuck around and didn't stop bothering him, so dirk just gave up trying to dissuade them to leave him alone.

eventually, the two of them fell in love and became permanent travelling partners. they're very pda in camp. everyone hates them.

they're recruitable by the ruins by the nautiloid crash site, where dirk will be helping millie off of the ground. they will also be immediately suspicious of the player and any companions.

you can get into a polyamorous relationship with them. poly rep in camp, please.

millie

millie is a 104 year old cambion college of valor bard.

they are the only heir of the archdevil valec, who is asmodeus' head torturer. as a result, they were expected to take over their father's position.

however, their human blood ran stronger than their devil blood, and they plotted to escape and eventually did so. as punishment, the moment they appeared in the material plane, a failsafe that their father had enacted years ago triggered - a brand on their chest locked away all of their devil abilities, essentially removing all inherent cambion magic besides some weaker spells that most tieflings possess.

as a result, millie was forced to learn from the ground up. they became a bard, at first to relearn magic, but they grew a deep love for the craft.

for years they performed in baldur's gate, until they met dirk, a brooding eladrin. they pestered him nonstop. and then they fell in love and became travelling partners.

they disguise themself as a mephistopheles tiefling, their wings remain hidden and glamoured away.

deyemon

deyemon is a 19 year old human monster slayer ranger.

he is a member of a group of gur nomads, the starblade family, who are looked over by a literal star of an aasimar, known as the starblade.

he's been through some SHIT, man. he has a glass eye and a metal prosthetic arm crafted by an artificer.

you can recruit him in the druid grove, where he's recovering from his fall from the nautiloid.

mercutio

mercutio is a 25 year old half-high elf reborn phantom rogue. that's a mouthful.

he grew up on the streets of baldur's gate. at age 16, he was murdered in a wrong place, wrong time situation. his death was overlooked, since nobody would miss him.

however, he came back to life with no memories of what had happened to him. he walks the line between life and death. he does, however, have occasional flashbacks to the face of a white-haired man crawling the alleyways, luring away his friends at the dead of night...

mercutio can be found by the ruined docks just on the beach outside of the crash site, where he's getting his bearings. he will be very sympathetic towards a durge who shares the amnesia, but otherwise he will threaten a tav who approaches him.

durge

durge is a 32 year old half-drow half-tiefling path of the beast barbarian.

durge, contrary to popular belief, is NOT my dark urge. he is a bhaalspawn, but not the bhaalspawn.

he exists in my descent into avernus campaign as the chosen of bhaal. in the context of bg3, he is not a chosen and is instead the canon dark urge's friendly rival and can be an ally.

durge has two hands, and he's dating a banite (chosen of bane in-campaign), zenith ganthar, a shadar-kai cleric of bane, and a myrkulite (chosen of myrkul in-campaign), desdemona ventrue, a vampire half high-elf oathbreaker paladin/shadow sorcerer.

#out of character.#abdirak // about.#haarlep // about.#dirk // about.#millie // about.#deyemon // about.#mercutio // about.#durge // about.

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darkenedroses-world · 11 months ago

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You find yourself in an opulent, otherworldly courtroom. The walls shimmer with hues of silver and gold, etched with ancient symbols that pulse faintly with energy. The air is thick with tension as two imposing figures face off before a towering, faceless judge draped in robes woven from starlight and shadow. The demon, known as Malachor, leans against the podium, his razor-sharp grin gleaming in the dim light. His skin is a deep, ashen red, and his wings stretch behind him like shadowy curtains. His eyes gleam with wicked delight as he gestures lazily toward the center of the courtroom, where you stand helpless, caught between his curse and the fey’s binding promise.

"I find this entire proceeding ridiculous," Malachor sneers, his voice a low growl that reverberates throughout the chamber. "There is no firstborn. There can be no firstborn. I made sure of that when our little contract was sealed." He taps his claws together, his eyes narrowing at the fey. "I’ve held up my end of the bargain. They’re infertile. Case closed." On the other side of the courtroom, the fey queen, a vision of ethereal beauty and danger, stands tall and regal. Her eyes glow with a soft, almost blinding light, and her silver hair flows like liquid moonlight. She tilts her head at the demon, the faintest of smirks tugging at her lips. Her voice, when she speaks, is like the whisper of leaves in a midnight forest, yet it carries with it an undeniable power.

"Your curse may prevent them from bearing children now, but it is no more permanent than the ebbing tide. Curses can be broken, contracts rewritten. Our deal was struck long before your interference, Malachor. And fey law supersedes your petty magic." She glances over at you, her eyes softening ever so slightly. "I am owed the firstborn, and I will collect what is mine." You stand in the middle of it all, every muscle tense. You want to scream, to argue, but the magical bindings around your mouth hold firm. You are powerless as they fight over your future, their words turning from sly remarks to heated exchanges.

Malachor’s tail flicks in annoyance. "Even if they could produce a child—which they can’t—it would be tainted by my magic. You would collect nothing but a hollow shell, an empty vessel." The fey queen’s eyes narrow to dangerous slits, her serene façade cracking for a moment. "You underestimate me, demon. And you overestimate the strength of your curse. Nothing is unbreakable. All it takes is the right touch, the right bargain…" The judge, silent until now, raises a hand and the entire courtroom falls into an oppressive silence. Its voice echoes through your mind rather than your ears.

“The matter at hand is not the strength of the curse, nor the terms of individual contracts. The question is: who holds the greater claim over this mortal’s fate?" Malachor leans forward, teeth bared. "I do. My curse was sealed with their own blood. Their womb is barren because I made it so." “And yet," the fey queen counters smoothly, "I have already claimed the firstborn as payment for a debt long before your curse was ever placed. That debt stands." The judge turns its eyeless gaze toward you, and for the first time, you feel the pressure around your throat and mouth lessen. "Mortal," it speaks, "your voice has been restored. What say you in this matter?"

Your heart races as the courtroom falls deathly silent, both Malachor and the fey queen staring at you with intent—one with a malicious gleam, the other with calm but predatory patience. You know that no matter what you say, it could change everything. One wrong move, and you could either remain cursed forever or be bound to the whims of the fey for eternity. Or worse—both.

Swallowing hard, you take a breath and speak.

"I… I never wanted this," you say, your voice trembling. "I never wanted to be cursed, never wanted to promise anyone my firstborn. You both trapped me in these deals." You look between them, desperation rising in your chest. "There has to be another way. If… if I could break the curse, if there was a child, could we—" You hesitate. "Could we rewrite the terms?" The judge raises a hand to silence you again, considering. "It is possible," it says slowly. "If both parties agree to renegotiate. However, if neither is willing to yield, the original contracts will stand."

The fey queen looks at you thoughtfully. "I am not unreasonable," she says, her voice softer now. "If the demon relinquishes his curse, and you give me a different form of payment, we may yet find another path." Malachor’s lip curls in disdain. "And what would I receive in exchange for such a generous offer?" He crosses his arms, his black claws tapping against his crimson skin, eyes locking onto yours. "I gave you what you asked for—a curse you accepted willingly. Now you want to bargain your way out of it? What makes you think I’d let you walk away so easily?" You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. The fey queen, though kinder in appearance, is no less dangerous.

You stand at the precipice of something dark and unknowable. But you can’t allow fear to consume you. You glance toward the fey queen, her expression still unreadable but with a glimmer of something more patient. Calculating. "What do you want from me?" you ask Malachor, forcing your voice to steady. "What would it take for you to lift the curse?" He leans forward, his grin stretching wider, a flicker of flame dancing in his eyes. "Ah, now we’re speaking in terms I understand. If you wish to be free of my curse, I’ll require something precious in return." He pauses, relishing your discomfort before continuing. "I want your soul."

Your blood runs cold. The fey queen scoffs, her expression twisting in disdain.

"How typical of a demon," she mutters, shaking her head. "Always so predictable." She turns her gaze back to you, stepping forward ever so slightly. "Your soul is far too valuable to barter with. There are other ways, mortal." Malachor growls, his wings flexing behind him. "Do not meddle in my affairs, fey. This mortal made a deal with me first." "I do not meddle," the fey queen says coolly. "I am merely pointing out that your terms are excessive. And reckless." You feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you as both of them seem to measure their next moves, your fate hanging in the balance. Malachor’s demand for your soul is no small ask, but the fey’s intentions remain unclear.

And yet… you feel a flicker of defiance rising within you.

"I won’t give you my soul," you say, meeting Malachor’s fiery gaze head-on. "That’s not something you can just take." Malachor laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that shakes the very air. "Brave words, mortal. But you are playing a dangerous game." Before he can speak further, the judge’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, stern and unwavering. "Enough," it declares. "The court will not entertain the demand for a soul in this matter. The contract was for a curse, not an eternal bond. If other terms are not agreed upon, the original agreements will stand." The demon’s smile fades as the judge’s ruling hits him, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

The fey queen, however, remains poised, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

"It seems we are back to negotiations," she says, her voice cool but with an edge of triumph. "As I said before, I am willing to reconsider the terms. There are many things you could offer me in place of your firstborn, mortal. I am not unreasonable." You hesitate, unsure of what exactly she’s asking. "What… what kind of payment are you talking about?" The fey queen steps closer, her silver eyes glowing faintly as she gazes at you. "You could offer me a favor, bound by magic. One that I may call upon at a time of my choosing. Or perhaps a portion of your lifespan, given willingly in exchange for freedom. There are many options."

She glances toward Malachor. "All far less costly than what the demon demands." Your heart races as you weigh your options. A favor to the fey, bound by magic? A portion of your lifespan? It’s better than losing your soul—or having your firstborn torn away—but the consequences still weigh heavy on you. "And what do I get in return?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "If I agree to one of your terms… what happens to the curse?" Malachor growls low in his throat, his sharp teeth bared in frustration. "The curse remains if I do not receive something in kind. I demand my due."

But the fey queen cuts him off sharply. "The curse can be broken," she says, her tone resolute. "With the right magic, it can be undone. If you grant me what I ask for, I will break the demon’s curse myself." Her eyes flicker with an otherworldly light as she gazes at you. "You have my word." A tense silence settles over the courtroom. The faceless judge watches, waiting for your decision.

You breathe in slowly, your mind racing. The demon has trapped you in a nightmare, but the fey’s offers come with a price of their own—one you might not even fully understand. And yet, the thought of a future free from Malachor’s curse stirs something hopeful in your chest. You turn toward the fey queen. "Break the curse," you say, your voice shaking but firm. "And I’ll give you the favor you seek." The fey queen nods slowly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "It is done." Malachor lets out a low, vicious growl, but the binding magic of the court has already begun to take hold. You feel a wave of relief and fear in equal measure as the deal is struck, the fey queen’s magic weaving around you like a gentle, silvery mist.

The curse that once clung to you so tightly begins to loosen its grip. As Malachor’s influence fades, he glares at you one final time, his eyes burning with fury. "This is not over, mortal," he snarls, his voice dripping with venom. "I will find another way to claim what is mine." But for now, you are free. The courtroom dissolves into shadows, and the fey queen’s presence lingers in your mind as you are returned to the mortal realm, the weight of your decision still heavy on your shoulders. You may have escaped the demon’s curse, but the favor you owe the fey now looms over you—a debt that could be called upon at any moment.

the demon that cursed you with infertility and the fey that you promised your firstborn are having a legal battle.

#monsters #concept writing #writing prompt

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flownintothesun · 2 years ago

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⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 (𝐅𝐞𝐲!𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 @ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞!)

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. ( @batteredoptimist )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑 — a beautiful something to close the book of one’s life. He had grown up Catholic, but neither his mother nor his father were really practicing so much as using the notion of ‘God’ where it best served them. He supposes that means that when they think of death, they think of heaven and hell. How would they feel to know that their son is dying in a forest surrounded by the Fey, and other such impossible creatures. He’s so young still — and yet, it does seem like his journey has been a long one. His only regret is that there was so little time spent with James. It doesn’t seem fair — though he supposes that most things in life don’t, when all is said and all is done. James gets to live forever. Francis’s life to his most beloved will be a drop in an ocean.

The light, as it turns out — isn’t a metaphor after all. It starts with spots around your vision — like the kind you get when you’ve stared too long at the sun. But what he’s staring at now is James’s face — grief-stricken, tears falling down the apples of his cheeks. It’s so rare that one attends their own funeral. So fitting that he will return to the Earth. It had taken him so long to learn, to understand — and there’s still so much left to go. He never got to finish James’s song. He supposes that his darling will simply have to carry it with him wherever he goes. Coco and Muriel say that there’s nothing they can do — that his death must happen. It’s connected to James somehow, though that’s where it gets fickle — that’s where he doesn’t understand.

In one of his episodes, he’d been given wings — wings like James’s, like a Faery. He doesn’t understand why they can’t make the change permanent — why he has to let go now, and find out what comes after James’s sweet face succumbs to the light. He’s never been one to push back too hard — but if not now, then when? His brow furrows as James speaks to him. Francis wants to ask what comes after death — but his tongue is heavy, and there are more pressing issues at hand. Hand. He seeks out beloved’s hand — soft and warm, and James fiddles with his fingers. It’s almost human. Sometimes, he’s almost human — and sometimes he’s so wholly magic that Francis simply looks on in awe. He wants to stay — wants to be a part of James’s story — or at the very least get to watch him, help him.

“No,” he croaks, “You’ll find me.” It’s desperate, and Francis feels two tears trickle down his cheeks, “If I come back, you’ll find me, right, mon amour?” This time it’s him squeezing James’s fingers — and he shoves back at the light with everything in him. “I don’t want to live in a world without your kindness and your goodness and your magic. It would be empty. Like a book unwritten.” There is no Francis without James — there never could be — never a whole person, anyway. “You’ll find me, darling — and we’ll do all of the things we should have done. We’ll dance under the stars and I’ll finish your song. I’ll remember.” How could he forget? It’s clear that if multiple lives exist — that his have all been connected to his darling. He’s been dreaming of him forever. He would try again for James. “I could never forget you.”

#batteredoptimist #♡ 𝙹𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂 & 𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙸𝚂 ⤷ like a night in the forest ; like the mountains in springtime ; like a walk in the rain.#➤ 𝚅𝙸. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 ┊ francis devereaux.#death cw #ugh how many times must i rewrite this #and break my heart in the process? ;_;#⋆ ⚓︎ ⋆ ── 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 ┊ 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔?

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ink-and-sunbeams · 2 years ago

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The Fey Path

Everytime my father asked me where I escaped to, I lied.

This was my gift, deception. It's not a sweet gift and it's not a gift that one should abuse. You have to care for it neatly. Otherwise, one day that gift may end up becoming a knife in the back placed there by your own hand.

This lie. The lie I handed to him so easily was something well-worn and entirely unimportant compared to the truth.

Green leaves and the summer warmth swam around me comfortably. I had walked this path many times, but each time it changed slightly and each time it became even softer beneath my barefeet. Excitement made me clench my fingers more tightly around the basket I'd been carrying.

I knew I had to share this.

Finally, I made it to the place where the willows bend and sweep their graceful branches across the face of the river. He wasn't here yet, but that was fine because I wanted the chance to settle first.

Unwrapping the contents of my basket, I brush my hands across the surface of the silver box that had been carefully nested inside. I knew once I clicked it open I would find a stone that swirled with a storm beneath the surface.

"What did you do?"

My friend and research partner was not entirely human. His body was a mangle of earthbent nature. So much so, that if you looked at him at a certain angle you would swear on your life it was just another shadow spot in the woods.

Dark hair twisted, tree-branch and ivy-tangled down across his eyes. Eyes, that were looking rather suspicously at me.

"Well, hello to you too." I sniped back.

"I did not say hello." His tone was as level as always as he made his way to sit down next to me. He peered over my shoulder at the silver box.

"Yes, I'm aware, I just- nevermind." It's always difficult to remember that sarcasm was not something that could be wielded against him. It didn't matter. I was too eager to share.

"Do you remember when we were talking about how some witches could take things out of dreams? Bring something back?"

He hesitated. "Yes. I remember, but that kind of magic is severely old and dangerous..."

I waited a moment for him to catch up as I gave him a better look at the stone. Recognition flooded his eyes.

"You didn't!"

A smile broke out across my face. "I did!"

"Bree, you did not." He was being a lot more serious than I thought he'd be.

"Look, I know that it is a bit on the dangerous side, but after we are done I can put it back." I kept my tone light and uplifting. Even he couldn't bring down my excitement. Not for this. "Just think of what we can do. This can unlock the door. You can get back! And, if I keep it or if I study it, maybe I can find a way to unlock that door permanently."

He was quiet for a long moment, but I saw the hunger in his eyes. He wanted to go back home, he had been stolen away from the main path for far too long.

Softly, he spoke. "The door isn't meant to stay open. The paths will come and go as nature intends, even witches can't keep that from happening. Maybe I can go back. Maybe. But if I do that means I probably won't be able to come back, and you... We may not be able to find each other again."

Now it was time for me to be quiet. It's not that I hadn't known this could be a possibility. It's just that I understood him too well. Being kept away from your true home was a story that I had also been apart of, my name penned in absolute ink. If I could write him a different ending then anything else wasn't as important.

"I know that. I do. But, I also know you and I know that being here isn't helpful for you. And you already helped me, so it's time I returned the favor."

That he nodded to. Favors. Bargains. Rules. All were important things to him. Personally, I often found them annoying. Like walking face-first into a spiderweb.

"Ok. Maybe you are right," He conceded, "Maybe. But if we use the stone to open the gate, it will use up an incredible amount of magic. And it will attract the attention of other unfavorable creatures. We'll need a plan."

"Perfect! We can make a plan. What's the worst that could happen?"

"We could both die."

"Let's not think about that. Now, how does this thing work?" I lifted the stone to the light.

#fantasy writing #writing #fey #feywriting #feyxhuman #witch #witchwriting

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palidoozy-art · 3 years ago

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Finally nailed down the design for the Lord of Twilight Woods, the party’s current big bad evil guy.

Plot synopsis below

A former shadar-kai, Serafim was sent on a mission by the Raven Queen (referred to as She of Whispers in our game) to the material plane. There, he experienced a sea of emotions he hadn’t been able to on the suffocating plane of Shadow. Joy. Sadness. Anger. Love. He, his two lovers (Javor and Stani) and a group of other shadar-kai decided they wished to never return to Shadowfell -- and so they made a pact with the Queen of Unseelie Court, and became dusk elves. The fey shrouded the group in a great woods to protect them from the wrath of their former deity, but for a cost: Serafim and his lovers would never be able to leave.

Deeming themselves kings, the three of them were once kind and just. But centuries of stagnation and the eye of an angry deity upon you weigh upon you. Slowly they became less like noble leaders and more like brutal dictators, establishing a violent caste system to maintain purity and dominance. Their paranoia ran rampant -- so rampant that they set up a fail safe in case they would die. They made a deal with one of the great scholars in the kingdom to utilize a clone spell, and keep their bodies safe just in case they met an untimely end.

Eventually, they met an untimely end. The kings, in their paranoia, viewed any attempts at changing the violent structure of their society as treason and put such individuals to death. One of them survived, betraying his people and helping lead a violent human king to overthrow the monarchs. When their armies had stormed the once great Twilight Woods, they arrived on the steps, dragged out the kings, and beheaded them in front of their people. Blood pooled down the steps.

The kings returned to life in the coffins designated by the clone spell, unbeknownst to the king’s army. But when you create a violent dictatorship, you leave a lot of room for people to be angry at you. The kings didn’t expect the scholar to betray him, and nobody still knows why he did. But he did.

He collapsed all of the entrances into their chamber and removed their spellbooks and supplies. The kings awoke in a tomb, unable to escape, unable to cast spells, and with no food.

As they began to starve, they turned on each other. Two of them killed Stani first, eating his corpse for sustenance. It wasn’t long before the last two turned on each other, leaving only one remaining: Serafim.

Fey magics wouldn’t let him permanently die, and the curse of what he had done twisted him. He escaped, now racked with an everlasting hunger, eating everything he could come across. And though his hunger never settled, it gave way to an emotion much stronger: spite.

Once a man who loved his land, he vowed from that point on to destroy it utterly. Currently he is the mastermind behind the brutal continental war -- purposely trying to kill as many as possible so he can send out corpse collectors to bring them back, raise them, and utilize them for his own personal army and to dig out a ruin where he seeks a wish spell. Is it the most efficient way of doing it? No. Does he care? Nah. All he cares about is causing as much suffering as he can to others and devouring the strong to add to his own repertoire.

Fun fact: the skulls on his staff are of his former lovers. he’s a nice man.

#d&d #d&d art #character design #from the mists #elf #palidoozy arts #though he was absolutely drawn from backstory relating to curse of strahd honestly he could be used for shit outside of that

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eponymous-rose · 4 years ago

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A Critical Role Campaign 2 Mechanics Primer

Got a request from a new Critical Role viewer for some clarification re: rules and characters, and dang, yes, there’s so much stuff to deal with as a new viewer at the moment. So here’s an attempt at clarifying some stuff!

How does D&D work?

Fundamentally, one person (the DM) sets the scene and the players riff off that scene by acting out what their characters would do in response. Whenever a player’s actions would lead to an uncertain result, the DM can call for them to roll a die and try to hit a predetermined target number to see if they succeed. The players’ individual characters have abilities that boost certain categories of rolls and penalize others; a very strong character is more likely than a scrawny one to be able to open a jammed door, but they could still have an unlucky roll. It’s the DM’s job to incorporate the sometimes-absurd results of those die rolls into a coherent story.

Combat is the most “gamey” D&D gets, where everyone has a turn set aside to act (with an order determined by the “initiative” roll that starts combat). This is where character classes come in handy: magic-users cast spells, fighters jump in with their weapons of choice, and so forth. Each character has a set of hit points, and once those reach zero, the character is unconscious and possibly dying. But combat ain’t just hack-and-slash: there can be conversation, strategy, manipulation, collaboration, and all sorts of weird subtleties going on. Fundamentally, players’ actions are limited only by their imaginations.

It can be super weird getting into a D&D show even if you have played a bit because everyone plays the game a bit differently. Critical Role’s gameplay leans hard into roleplaying and character beats (there are episodes with basically no dice rolls) but also leans hard enough into the rules that a random bad or good roll can completely derail the story; rolls aren’t fudged or handwaved for the sake of a predetermined narrative, which means nobody playing (including the DM) knows how things are going to end up. This makes for a viewing experience that is a cross between dramedy improv and live sports; the cast plays out long scenes of conversation, but their characters could also permanently die at any time, adding to the high stakes. It’s also totally unedited, which accounts for the absurdly long runtime.

If any of that isn’t for you, there are a lot of great D&D podcasts out there (often labeled “actual play”) that run the gamut from silly with minimal rules to mechanically involved but edited down. It’s a cool time to get into D&D!

Okay, so how exactly do these characters do their thing?

One of the more confusing aspects for new viewers of the second campaign of Critical Role is that they’re using a fair amount of content that’s not in the baseline ruleset - some character races and classes are coming from expansion content, and some are from Matt Mercer (the DM’s) homebrew. Here’s a quick summary of what each character has going on at the start of the campaign, moving from left to right in the first episode’s seating arrangement.

Fjord (played by Travis Willingham)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Travis is the big guy who looks like he could throw a football real far. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice has a Texas twang.

Fjord is a half-orc warlock. A half-orc typically has green skin and tusks but otherwise looks fairly close to a garden-variety human. Warlocks are magic-users who gained their abilities from a bargain with a mysterious (generally somewhat malevolent) being of great power. Mechanically, they rely a lot on what are called cantrips (spells that can be cast an unlimited number of times a day) since the number of more powerful spells at their disposal is very limited. However, unlike most other casters that have to get a full night’s sleep to regain their stronger spells, warlocks just have to rest for an hour or so and they’re good to go. More specifically, Fjord is a hexblade warlock. Hexblades are warlocks who have a particularly strong bond with their weapon of choice and can summon it from nothing.

Beauregard (played by Marisha Ray)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Marisha is the woman who often perches on her chair like she’s about to take flight. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is a bit gruff with a sarcastic drawl.

Beau is a human monk. Both humans in this campaign use a variant version of human that allows them to pick a feat at the start of the campaign: Beau has some extra expertise in investigative and athletic abilities. Monks are preternaturally powerful martial artists; what some classes do with magic, they do with unarmed combat. Mechanically, they rely on an ability called ki points, which are a stockpile of points that can be used for extra-powerful abilities such as being able to hit extra times on an attack or being able to stun an enemy. More specifically, Beau is a Way of the Cobalt Soul monk, which is a homebrew from Matt and means she’s essentially a warrior-monk-librarian whose key abilities center around rooting out useful information.

Caleb (played by Liam O’Brien)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Liam is the guy who perpetually looks like he’s about to launch into a Shakespearean monologue. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice is soft with a German accent.

Caleb is a human wizard. His variant human feat gives him an eidetic memory and the ability to always know what time it is. Wizards are magic-users who got to where they are with careful study; Caleb has to keep track of his spells by transcribing them into a spellbook. He also has a familiar in the form of the cat Frumpkin, although Frumpkin can also change forms. Mechanically, wizards can pick up spells from a lot of different sources to learn them, but again, the cost in time and materials of transcribing them into a spellbook can be substantial. More specifically, Caleb is a transmutation wizard, which means his wizardry focuses around the act of transforming one thing into another.

Nott (played by Sam Riegel)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Sam is the guy with an alarmingly big smile and a comically oversized flask. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice is high-pitched with varying levels of Cockney accent.

Nott is a goblin rogue. Goblins are small and quick, and may or may not be well-received depending on the location. Rogues are sneaky individuals who do best when striking from the shadows or scouting ahead to investigate potential traps and unlock doors. Mechanically, they get a huge bonus in combat if they attack when unseen or when an opponent is distracted by an ally. They’re also very good at avoiding attacks and at hiding from view. More specifically, Nott is an arcane trickster rogue, which means she also dabbles in magic related to illusions and enchantment.

Jester (played by Laura Bailey)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Laura is the one who may or may not be instigating every round of giggles at accidental innuendo. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is bubbly with an Eastern European accent.

Jester is a tiefling cleric. Tieflings essentially look like brightly-colored humans (Jester has blue skin) with horns and a tail; they’re the result of infernal ancestry and also may or may not be well-received. Clerics are magic-users who derive their power from the blessing of a deity or other extremely powerful entity. Jester’s divine patron is the Traveler, a mysterious trickster with an affinity for phallic graffiti. Mechanically, clerics have a massive stable of spells from which they can choose a subset every morning; their abilities range from healing wounds to causing devastating harm. More specifically, Jester is a trickery domain cleric, which means her spells have a strong focus on illusions and pranks.

Mollymauk (played by Taliesin Jaffe)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Taliesin is the one who looks like he may be some sort of ancient fey creature who’s come to our realm to play D&D. If you’re listening to the podcast, his character voice has an Irish accent of varying intensity.

Molly is a tiefling blood hunter with purple skin. Blood hunters are a custom class Matt created that can use their own blood (in a process called hemocraft) to augment their combat abilities. Mechanically, blood hunters are high-risk high-reward; they can perform devastatingly brutal attacks, but often only at the cost of shedding some of their own blood to do so. More specifically, Molly is an Order of the Ghostslayer blood hunter, which means he’s got an affinity for things relating to the moment of death.

Yasha (played by Ashley Johnson)

If you’re watching the show in video form, Ashley is the one who isn’t around for a little bit (she was splitting her time with a TV show on the opposite coast) and then SHE’S BACK AND I’M STILL SO HAPPY ABOUT THAT. If you’re listening to the podcast, her character voice is soft with a faint Scandinavian accent.

Yasha is an aasimar barbarian. Aasimar are the semi-divine counterpart to tieflings, although Yasha is a fallen aasimar with a fairly different aesthetic. Barbarians use their rage to enhance their already fierce battle prowess. Mechanically, barbarians in a rage take less damage and deal more damage, and also embrace a high-risk high-reward playstyle as tanks in the middle of the fray. More specifically, Yasha is a Path of the Zealot barbarian, which means her battle rages are fueled by the influence of a divine being.

Interested in watching from the start of campaign 2? The show has a YouTube channel with each episode posted in its entirety, and all episodes are also available in podcast form (they did jump channels partway through, but you can usually find a playlist that has them all). If you want to delve into campaign 1, I highly recommend it, but be aware that they’re still figuring out tech stuff and you’re also jumping in partway through the game they started years earlier at home. Campaign 2 starts 20 years after campaign 1 on a different continent of the same world, and is intended to be an appropriate jumping-on point for new viewers.

Interested in catching up faster so you can watch live with friends? Search Critical Recap for a series of recap videos on YouTube, which then becomes a series of written summaries on the CritRole website after episode 88. There are also great summaries on the Wiki, and many people have put together catch-up guides for new viewers.

There’s A LOT of content out there. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for skimming the early stuff if you want to get in on the new episodes sooner. <3

Episodes air at 7 PM Pacific every Thursday on Critical Role’s Twitch and YouTube channels; the VOD goes up for free on YouTube the Monday after. In the last few months, the cast has been distanced at the studio (all on separate cameras) and episodes have been pre-recorded several weeks in advance; normally, the show is streamed live and everyone is around the same table.

Hope that helps! If you have any questions, let me know. This is a fun show to get into, and a great all-consuming massive body of entertainment if you have the time for it.

#critical role #eponymous reference tag #long text post

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doctorslippery · 4 years ago

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The Pillar of First Blood – A 15ft dark stone pillar that has engraved writing on each side ‘The spot where the first blood was split between a batch of common devils”.

The Drawing Moss – A smooth stone with a bunch of growing moss on it. Touching the stone with a bare hand results in the moss slowing moving to wherever was touched. On the stone are several handprints and doodles perfectly covered over with the moss.

Curci’s Crypt – A small white stone structure deep in the woods with carvings of trees on each side. Entering brings you into the hidden crypt of Curci.

The Crumbling Shack – Far away from any civilization lays what once was a small shack. The windows are broken, some walls have crumbled away, and parts of the roof are open and fallen in.

Trio of Faces – On the side of a rocky cliff are a well carved trio of protruding faces all looking the same direction

Cone Shaped Prison – In the middle of a grassy field stands an 8ft slim cone made of iron bars, in the middle of the structure lies a sun-bleached skeleton bound in iron shackles.

The Tree of Sacrifice – A abnormally large and oddly pale brown tree where the branches are twisted, and the leaves are a sickly saturated green color. At the base of the tree lies a blood stained alter that the roots of the tree have grown around it and now hold it in place. The base of the tree as well as the ground around the alter are permanently stained a deep red. If the tree is cut, a thick blood sap seeps out of wound. If a creature is sacrificed on the alter, the blood pools near where the roots touch the alter and are absorbed while what appear to be veins appear on the tree that go up into the branches.

The Bone Pit – In an open field there is a 10ft wide and 50ft deep pit with no life growing around it. The walls of this chasm are lined with dark cobblestone and going down there are three uneven sized holes that are covered by iron bars. At the bottom there are a large pile of bones.

The Odd Stone Slab – A big square stone slab rests hidden near the side of the road. Carved into the slab is a symbol and a riddle that upon answering correctly leads to a small dungeon.

The Copper Fox – A 4ft oxidized copper statute of a fox with a small locked box in its mouth and two ruby eyes.

The Pointing Eagle – On top of a large rock formation is a big iron statue of an eagle pointing its body to the east.

The Feasting Table – Out away from any kind of civilization sits a large gray solid stone table with ancient carvings on the sides. Upon its surface are newly lit candles and a banquet of food that seems to be warm, fresh, and untouched by its surroundings. If one where to eat or take anything from the table, the next day it would be completely restocked and replenished.

The Jeweled Bush – A seemingly average looking berry bush that happens to grow small jewels instead of berries. If one where to try and consume one of the jewels picked off of the bush within 24hrs, that person gains a temporary magical effect or bonus, otherwise it’s a normal jewel.

The Ice Blood Spot – Located on the cliff face of a large mound of ice there is one spot that is dark red instead of the pure blue that surrounds it.

Dragon’s Graveyard – in a valley, there are 8-10 adult dragon skeletons, half-buried.

Petunia, the Land Whale – A large whale skeleton surrounded by petunias. The whale is miles away from the sea and the petunias aren’t native to this location.

Wondrous Obelisk – an obelisk, comprised of rose quartz and decorated with sylvan runes, appears to be of fey origin. it is surrounded in a 120-foot field of wild magic.

The Old Folk Hero – A half erected statue of an old folk hero. Either under construction or half crumbled.

The Hope Tree – It’s an oak tree with the word hope carved into it in large letters. No one knows who did it or why, but it’s turned into a useful landmark for the local village.

The Moon’s Egg – It’s a massive dome-like stone formation that shines pearlescent in the moonlight. It lays in a bare outcropping of rock and is warm to the touch.

Hollering Pit – A 50ft deep sinkhole. Well-hidden at the bottom is the lair of an accomplished burglar who calls himself the Jeweler. He’s too old to do much in the way of harm, but the countless traps he installed are not.

The Painted Cliff Face – A cliff that has been entirely covered in paint from hundreds of people.

Threeshades Tower- A weathered, ivy-mantled square tower atop a small hill. Has three levels, and each is built from a different kind of stone. The longsword stuck in one of the bricks on the top level is +1 and can project the bearer’s voice up to 50’ away.

Pigeons’ Chest – an ornate, but empty, chest of silver and pearl sitting by the road. It will not move by any means yet discovered, material nor magical.

The Ol’ Inn – The ancient ruins of a strangely ‘modern-looking’ tavern located in the deepest patches of forest. No path leads to it, no other buildings or ruins are found besides it, but dozens of deformed footsteps can be found heading out of the site. At night, the faint, muffled sound of a single viol can be heard coming out of the muddy floor.

The Forgotten Emperor’s Statue – An incredibly detailed, broken bust of a young wood elf, bearing a red crown. Its nose and left ear are missing and where its left eye should be, the socket is destroyed, and a monstrously decomposed snake eye can be found. The base has a bronze plaque which reads (in broken Celestial): ‘The only one truly meant to rule’, followed by a name which seems scratched out.

The Candle Trees – deep in the woods, a small group of trees whose leaves are bright red. They contrast starkly with the normal trees around them. The Candle trees appear otherwise normal, but the dried leaves can be brewed into a tea that warms the bones even on the coldest nights.

Tale of a Desert’s Origin – A granite obelisk in the desert with glyphs on it. It seems to tell the tale of a very powerful magic user stealing all the life from this area, killing all the plants and turning it into a desert.

The Waning Waterfall – a small waterfall that appears to reverse direction on every night with a bright full moon, running up instead of down.

The Sandmount – There’s a strange dune of sand in the middle of this grassy field, covered in scorpions.

The Awoken Stones – three stone pillars at the top of a hill, each engraved with a different rune of no known language. The pillars appear to change positions, but how this is done is unknown.

Ghost village – There’s a half-buried village in the sand, with sandstone walls being the only remnants… except for one house, which has a simple roof and door carved into the stone.

Impossible Shipwreck – Dashed upon the rocks are the remains of a large merchant ship. Weathered and ancient, the skeletons of the crew still scattered around though most everything of value has long since been looted. The most peculiar thing about this is that the rocks, and ship, are in a cavern 100ft underground, miles from the nearest navigable waters.

Sapphire Beach – a small stretch of coastline hidden between two nigh-inaccessible cliff faces. The sand is particularly fine and a brilliant blue. Rumor has it that the sand was formed when giants destroyed the jewel horde of a local dragon. There are also rumors of a dragon being sighted in the oceans nearby. Digging deep into the sands turn up giant bones.

The Lovers’ Spring – a secluded hot spring, with the initials of many young lovers carved into nearby rocks. Discarded and forgotten undergarments can be found on tree branches in the area.

The Arms of the Last Bard – A broken but thick 15ft wide half-circle embedded to the ground made of quartz and intricately laced with gold strips. An assortment of precious gems are embedded in its surface. Any attempt to collect and/or destroy this construct will cause severe psychic damage and a loud high-pitched tone to play loudly. The half-circle aligns perfectly with sunset/sunrise and every time it does, the most beautiful flute melody plays that is sourceless.

The Iron Tree – A big, old tree which seems to be made of iron, but as far as anyone can tell, is alive and growing, if slowly.

Hades’ Hand – A 15ft tall stone hand stretches from the ground, reaching for the sky.

The Stone Toad – A gigantic stone carving of a toad’s head, crumbling, half-buried, and covered in moss.

The Wrecked Ship – The sun-bleached wreckage of a ship that ran aground long ago. Inside the hull is a massive cage with thick steel bars that appear to have been smashed outward from the inside.

The Three-Sided Tower – A half-collapsed stone tower with curious triangular architecture. The bones of a lonely watchman sitting in a chair lie atop it. The watchman wears a helmet shaped like a triangular pyramid. Several towers of this type can be found around the same area.

Giant’s Playground – this field is entirely stone, and many massive footprints can be seen stomped into it. There are boulders laying around, some cracked.

The Fallen Hero – The legs of a giant metal statue standing beside the top of a waterfall overlooking the valley below. At the bottom of the lake below the falls, the head and torso can be found. It appears to be the likeness of a famous ancient hero that a PC might recognize.

The Charity Cave – A cave with a chest that says, ‘if you take something, leave something.’ It’s unlocked and has several trinkets inside.

The Eye of the Moon – on top of this hill is a pool surrounded with stone. The water is always cool, and at night the full moon can always be seen in its reflection, regardless of clouds or moon cycle.

Bigfoot – A large tree in the forest that bends and splits in such a way that the bottom looks like a foot, with toes.

Goddess of Death Statue – A worn smooth but still recognizable ancient statue of a goddess of death. At her feet sets a black stone bowl filled with fresh rose petals. If you were to kneel down at the bowl and look up at her, you would see her eyes stare unwaveringly into yours.

The Red Altar – in the middle of a copse in a strange swamp lies a smooth altar made of red stone, with strange carvings of trees and water all around its base. Upon touching the altar, you will hear a voice in your mind ‘sacrifice”, and you will feel a strange primal urge to sacrifice a creature on top of it.

Timnar’s Beard – A copse of trees growing in a single spot on an otherwise barren mountain. Unbeknownst to the world, it is the burial place of a great wizard of earthen magics. It is watched over by a trio of stone golems and a handful of slumbering treants to guard the immense knowledge held within the tomb.

The Sundered Mount – a mountain that appears to have been cleaved in two and creating two crumbling peaks with a narrow cut of a valley between them. It does not appear naturally created.

The Mage Wastes – A region where fertile grassland suddenly stops and abruptly becomes a barren wasteland of decaying grass and reddish soil. It seems as if it was the sight of some magical battle. The ground is pocked with craters and scorch marks, yet it seems as if this battle was an ancient long finished, but the battlefield has remained a wasteland frozen in time.

The Dragons Maw – A series of jutting tooth like spires of black igneous rock which rise out from the sea. These “teeth” have proven to be an extreme hazard to sailors and shipping which pass too near to them. Tearing hulls and ripping sails.

The Gods Sacrament Statue -A old weathered statue of a god with beautiful gems inlaid and surrounded with wicker basket offerings of gold, flowers, food, and trinkets. Stealing from the statue result in a curse (permanent level of exhaustion) from the deity until either greater restoration is cast on the thief or they repent and make an offering of twice the amount stolen. Award inspiration for respectful offerings or prayers given to the statue.

The Dragonblood – A massive artwork carved into a boulder placed some ways away from the banks of a nearby river. The artwork seems to depict a struggle between giants and dragons, with the giants as the victors. The faintly red runes which line it are giantish, and anyone who can decipher them will read that it marks a momentous battle between giants and dragons, over which should decide the course of the river.

The Daughter of the Sun – An enormous stone of a singular soft yellow color. It is hot to the touch but by day it is warm and comfortable simply standing near it. By night however the stone begins to glow brightly, illuminating its surroundings in radiant golden light. Large chips of the same stone can be found in the foliage growing around it. With similar glowing properties.

Would you kindly -A sentient door in the side of a mountain that has short term memory loss. He has no idea of his name or how to open himself but enjoys talking with travelers none the less. Speaking the magic word “please” will cause the door to open revealing a shortcut through the mountain. No form of magic or otherwise can lead through or get around this door without speaking the magic word due to an ancient magical barrier.

The Bread Boy – a small statue in a park depicting a street urchin. In one hand he has what is left of a small loaf of bread. With the other hand he is spreading crumbs for the birds, so they do not go hungry too. A place where the street kids gather.

Sculpture Garden – a small clearing in a forest, near a cave mouth, contains dozens of statues of humanoid creatures, many armed & armored, all with looks of surprise & horror on their stone faces.

Saben’s Cauldron – a large, circular pool off of a main river which is geothermally heated.

The Teeth – a series of vaguely conic stone spires lined up along a gentle arc. Each is over 15ft tall and 5ft across at the base, and tapers to a narrow tip. Nobody knows the origin of this formation. Some say the teeth are all that remains from some colossal dragon skeleton, others think the stones were placed there by a dragon cult, or as a sign from Bahamut.

Mage-Crater – a 120ft diameter crater. Now filled with water and inhabited by pond creatures.

The Old Man – a natural rock formation that just happens to look like the face of an old man with a long beard. Ruins of temples from several ancient civilizations can be found in the valley below, apparently attracted there to worship the face, or perhaps just to be under his watchful gaze. Most humanoid races in the region are sure the old man looks like their race and have their own legend about him.

The Deino Flats -roughly 40 acres of salt flats. A long dried up saltwater marsh from ancient times.

Grand Defender – a large, symmetrical hill where the site of a great battle once was. Stone rubble and ruins barely peaks out from the top. Flowers are left there every so often.

The Adventurers Billiard Hall – A stone statue of a Local adventurer rests on a green glass dome in the center of a public lake. The dome is lit gently from beneath. Somewhere nearby lies a dilapidated entrance which runs through a small puzzle focused dungeon.

Turned-Inn – An inn that has been carefully constructed to appear as if it was turned upside-down.

The Signposts – A collection of several dozen poles each with a dozen or more signs mounted to them pointing towards various distant lands, nearby businesses, and bizarre joke locations. It started with travelers who erected a signpost pointing to their distant homelands which other travelers added to. Eventually it got out of hand.

Worm’s Desert – A small sandy desert only a couple hundred acres in size of so. A great desert-making worm arrived from another world and sought to covert the world into an ecosystem like its home but caught a local disease it was unresistant to and died before it made much progress. The residual poison from the worm’s body deters plants from overtaking the sand.

Lightning Lab – A bizarre building with a strange mushroom-shaped metal lattice on top. It was the lab of a researcher studying non-magical electricity who died from electrocution.

The Sandlot – A square of property with no building where children come to play. A greedy landlord raised the rent on a long-term elderly tenant when they purchased the property, driving the tenant into poverty and eventually death. The tenant cursed the land with dying breath that no-one would never profit from the property. Every future tenant was driven out by terrifying haunts, and eventually the building was burned down.

Dwarven Monument – An enormous high relief of six dwarven warriors cut from a cliff pointing the way along, commemorating their epic journey.

Atlas Boulders A series of differently sized large stone spheres far too large for a man to lift. The strongest giants would lift them to prove their strength. They sometimes move, so perhaps the giants still use them.

Ancient Battlefield – ramparts, high hills, and trenches filled with water that stretch for mile marking the location an ancient battlefield. It has grown over.

The Epicenter – A large swath of woods where all the trees in a massive circle have been bent at a 90-degree angle towards the center but continue to grow that way. There is nothing (currently) anomalous at the center, but a powerful coven of druids hold it as one of their holiest places and guards it closely.

Ol Demons Place – a once portal to the abyss, sealed by hero’s long ago, now just a crumbling arch with an unsettling aura.

The Broken Hill – a hill that you need to walk uphill to get to and walk uphill to get away from.

The Rooster of Mourning – An enormous statue of a rooster, made from a strange metal, finely detailed and colored. It is hollow, and when the first ray of sunrise strikes it, a great, sad-sounding crow arises from it. Legend says that it commemorates a great battle in the distant past.

The Angry Spot – a small stone platform on the top of a hill, standing on the platform makes a person irrationally angry. Barbarians may involuntarily rage as a result.

The Alter of a Thousand Arms. – At a crossroads sits an unusual statue, made of stone it stands over 10 feet tall and has arms sticking out in every direction with their palm turned upwards. In nearly every hand there is a candle, some still lit but most are fully melted. Placing a candle in one of the hands and lighting it will give the player the blessing of ‘A helping hand.’ When a player next fails a roll, they may roll an additional d6 and add it to their total.

The Weeping Sister – A fifteen-foot statue of a girl unmarred by time. Next to her are the shattered remains of another statue, close enough that the body may have once held her outstretched hand. The feet of this larger statue are all that remain affixed to the earth – the rest is scattered throughout the clearing. Water, clean and pure, travels down her face in steady rivulets but leaves no erosion there.

The Sensible Stone Head -a large stone head protruding from the surface of a glacier. It is the head of an earth elemental and if you get his attention, he is friendly. If asked what he is doing their he replies ”swimming in the river”, given he exists at a geological place the slow flow of the glacier is like a river to him.

Glass Tree – A fairly tall an elaborate tree made entirely out of glass raises from the earth, at its base there is a plaque written in dwarven, it’s to commemorate a dwarf leader who fell in battle.

The Titan’s Blade – A 50 ft rust covered sword driven into the earth. The whole area has a magical aura and no wildlife lingers within a quarter mile of the sword.

The Well of Good Tidings – A well by the side of the road that is a base in a local hafling tradition that if one where to lose a tooth, that it is to be tossed in the well with a tip of the hat. When doing so, good fortune is sure to come. Characters that throw in teeth later find small amounts of wet coins in various locations on their person. Characters that throw rubbish, or are otherwise disrespectful of the well, find their respective objects on their person once more soaking wet and covered in bite marks.

Skilltown – A small but clearly once-bustling town lays abandoned inside of a titan’s skull. The skull is half buried in the sand; its eye sockets and mouth aim up at an angle. Walking through its mouth is the only way to enter the town. The skull looks to be that of an enormous version of whatever scariest creature lives in that area. It provides ample shade during most of the day.

Best Rest Graveyard – A cleric once prayed over a graveyard that all within would ‘rest well.’ Now anyone who falls asleep in that graveyard has the best night of sleep they’ve ever had.

Bird Hill – a grassy hill of noticeable height rises from the otherwise flat plains. On the hill are several lines of cobblestone that do not grow grass and have no discernible pattern from the surface. If flying, however, you see the cobblestone lines form the shape of a bird, along with some arcane symbols. If you happen to look up during the spring or fall, you’ll see migratory birds alter their course to fly over this hill.

Stairway to Nowhere – All that remains of an ancient fortress, the remarkably well constructed staircase rises for 3 stories out of the ground at the end of an ancient road, and then just abruptly stops.

The Crossroads – This is the place where four kingdoms meet. The main road for each lead to a massive stone pillar. Many years ago, all four kingdoms were at war, and a pillar was placed there as a symbol that none from neighboring kingdoms would be allowed to cross. It is now an annual meeting place for the four to discuss their continued amnesty.

Cloudland Canyon – It’s a canyon nestled in a northern mountain range that’s so high even the base of the canyon is a higher elevation than most of the other mountains in this world. Wondrously magical things occur here.

Stone Tree Garden – It was a garden from a former ancient culture, which vanished out of unknown reasons. One of the only things found was this tree garden. Are the trees made of stone or turned to, no one knows.

‘The Circle’ -There once was a meteorite which crashed into the land. The first to arrive found weird writing in a (Insert required size) diameter circle. No one could read what was written. In the center of the circle, where the meteor should have been, there was nothing, not even a small crater.

The Well – A seemingly normal well on the top of a hill. Anything that is placed into it is immediately tossed out of it.

The Pariah’s Mountain -One mountain among an otherwise unimpressive range, its only defining feature is its completely upside down. The base measures about 60ft across, but the peak 3,000ft up is easily a mile across. Stairs may have been carved into the side, but the climb down to the summit (or is it up to the base? The locals aren’t quite sure) is precarious at times. The locals are also similarly vague when asked about what’s on top…

Worried stones – A group of 3 standing stones with anxiety. When encountered in their clearing, they will disappear once all eyes are off them. Careful inspection will reveal them to hiding nearby – peeking from behind a nearby tree, bottom of a lake, hidden by bushes, behind where the party is now looking, etc. If discovered, they disappear again if not observed. The stones are not malicious, and do not harm the party. They would just rather you all left them to it, thank you.

The Quiet Creek – An otherwise ordinary creek that runs through a forest. It is abnormally quiet near the stream, in such that there is almost no echo around it, and it is surprisingly hard to hear from a distance. All along its course stand small boulders, almost fully grown over with moss.

The Shifting Hills – A large field of hills, dotted with rocks, grasses, and flowers. Careful study has found the hills are constantly moving, as though old creatures crawl along under a carpet of earth. Magics which call upon the earth always seem to produce unexpected results when among them.

The Devil’s Wager – A large disc shaped stone at the base of a long dormant volcano. Visitors toss a copper at it for good luck. There are a couple hundred copper around it. It is considered extraordinarily bad luck to take the coppers.

The Swordleaf Trees – there is a patch of trees here with a non-stop turbulent wind rustling the leaves and branches violently. The leaves’ edges appear to be razor sharp.

Beacon Mountain – A mountain that, on some nights, has a bright ball of light form over it which slowly dissipates over several hours. Local religion strictly forbids climbing the mountain.

Mist Valley – a short pathway of stone carved into a mountain, roughly five feet wide with names of couples and graffiti on the stone walls. The pathway always has a thick fog settled over it, making it seem eerie.

Ancient Battleground – Deep in a forest, trees are marred with years old axe and sword marks. Hundreds of skeletons dressed in rusted armor and weapons lie in this area. Taking a trinket, or even loitering may be unwise.

True Clarity Bridge – A bridge between two high places that, for many people, while staring off the side, provides answers for their most troubling issue or deep question, whether they were looking for the answer or not.

Lover’s Glade – Two sequoia trees whose bases are over a hundred feet apart have grown together and connect about 160 to 180 feet off the ground. The branches and leaves of these giant trees create a pleasantly shaded area below which is often used by the local populace as sites of wedding ceremonies.

Round Rock – A mysterious perfectly round rock that stands nearly 20ft tall. It is too heavy to roll and never seems to chip. It is the center of many local legends, varying wildly on their truthfulness.

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grailfinders · 4 years ago

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Fate and Phantasms #192

Today on Fate and Phantasms we're building the enchanting Caster of Okeanos, which despite her name doesn't actually show up in Okeanos, but rather the fourth pseudosingularity, Salem. She's also one of the last servants in the game (so far) to have her true name hidden, so pretty soon I can stop pointing out how her character build below the cut has true name spoilers. Specifically, this build also includes spoilers for the Salem pseudosingularity, so read at your own peril.

If you'd rather just check out her character sheet, you can find that over here.

Next up: The equal to the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, so just, equal to heaven, I guess.

Circe is a Transmutation Wizard, because she is a witch, and Transmutation is where they stuck polymorph.

Race and Background

Like her protege, Circe is an Elf, but if we want kindasorta falcon wings, that might be tricky. Just kidding, for some reason WotC thought winged elves were a priority, so we got Avariel Elves from an unearthed arcana. This means you only get +2 to a single stat, but we can make that Intelligence thanks to Tasha's for a brain blast. Your subrace gives you 30' of flying speed as long as you don't wear medium or heavy armor (not an issue), as well as the standard elf kit: Darkvision, Fey Ancestry to protect against charms, Trances instead of sleep, and proficiency in Perception thanks to your Keen Senses.

Circe lives on her island alone (if you don't count pigs) so that makes her a Hermit, privy to the secrets of the universe as well as Medicine and replacing the other proficiency (which we'll get back as a class proficiency) with Deception. Tricking men into turning into pigs is kind of a hobby for you.

Ability Scores

Your strongest score should go into Intelligence, that's how you cast spells, and also you're clearly more intelligent than the men who show up on your island. Speaking of, Charisma is next- you're a witch in the middle of a witch hunt that somehow never got caught, and there's also that whole Pig Island thing. Your Dexterity is also pretty good, it's hard enough to cast spells while walking, let alone flying. Also those heels, oh my fucking god how have you not broken an ankle yet. Your Constitution is above average mostly because I'd feel bad putting it any lower. That means your Wisdom is pretty low. You publicly introduce yourself as a witch in the middle of the Salem Witch Trials, and you're pretty flighty in general. Finally, dump Strength. You're a wizard, and you're clearly not that buff.

Class Levels

Circe is a wizard, meaning she starts off with proficiency in Intelligence and Wisdom saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. When you worship the goddess of magic, there isn't much of a difference, tbh. Speaking of magic, you can cast and prepare Spells using your Intelligence. Your spell slots normally only recharge on long rests, but once per long rest you can get a couple slots back on a short rest thanks to your Arcane Recovery, giving you back slots of a total level equal to half your wizard level rounded up. So when you hit level three, you can get back one 2nd level slot, or two 1st level slots. The thing about wizard is, they get a lot of spells. Six now, and two each level, plus whatever they can scavenge from other wizards. Since Circe's whole power set is "good at magic", there really isn't a set of spells that fit- any spell you could cast would be applicable. So rather than try to boil it down myself, we're just giving a rough guide here. There's a whole ass list on the character sheet, and we'll bring up the super important ones here, but really there's three qualifications: if a spell fits into one of these categories, Circe would probably have it. 1. Is it useful? The most open-ended, but just fill in spaces left by the other 2 with spells you want. I'm not a goddamn baby sitter, pick spells you like. 2. Can it turn one thing into another? Men to pigs, You into Medea, whatever kykeon is made out of into kykeon, this one's pretty easy to spot. 3. Can it help someone sail a ship? A bit specific, but helping the sailors she doesn't turn into pigs is also Circe's thing. Skill empowerment, weather control, that kind of thing. With all that out of the way, the big spells you'll probably want at first level are Mage Armor for not dying, Magic Missile for caster balls, and Sleep to knock out the sailors while you go around turning them to pigs. True Polymorph takes an hour per sailor and you need to recharge with a long rest, so this’ll take a while.

At second level, you become a Transmutation Savant, giving you all sorts of bonuses, like how copying transmutation spells into your book is cheaper and faster now. You can also make Minor Alchemy, turning 1 cubic foot of wood, stone, iron, copper, or silver, into another material on that list over the course of 10 minutes. You're not strong enough to shatter wooden chains either, but hopefully someone on your team is. This transformation lasts up to an hour or until you lose concentration, then it turns back to its regular form.

Third level wizards get Cantrip Formulas, letting you swap out one cantrip you know with a cantrip you don't know at the end of a long rest. You also get second level spells, like Alter Self to turn into Medea (among other benefits), and Gust of Wind to help out with sailing.

Use your first Ability Score Improvement to get a Keen Mind- always knowing which way you're facing and the angle the sun should be at are both really useful on the open sea. It also rounds up your Intelligence for stronger spells, and you can make your DM's life hell by remembering things up to a month after they happened.

Fifth level wizards get third level spells. Feign Death will help fake Mata Hari’s hanging later on, and Bestow Curse is super useful, since it can give a creature disadvantage on one kind of save. Like, say, wisdom saves. I wonder if there's a spell you like that requires a wisdom save coming up?

Sixth level transmutation wizards can create a Transmuter's Stone, a tiny object that gives its holder one of several benefits. When you make the stone, and if you're holding it while casting a transmutation spell, you can choose its beneft from the following: Darkvision, increased speed, proficiency in constitution saves, or resistance to one of acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder. You can only make one at a time after 8 hours of work, so don't try to stack them.

Seventh level wizards get fourth level spells, and you could get polymorph now if you really want, but you can also get that spell later for free, so if you're patient, you can get another spell now. If you do go for polymorph, it forces a wisdom save on a creature, and if they fail the save or they're willing, you can turn one creature into a beast with a CR equal to or less than the target's CR or level. All of the creature's stats are replaced by the new creature's, outside of alignment and personality. If it drops to 0 HP in this form, and hour passes, or you drop concentration, they turn back to normal. You can also cast other fourth level spells, like Control Water for sailing, Fabricate to turn... barley, just looked it up, into kykeon. Or any raw materials into a finished product that is Large or smaller.

At eighth level, you get another ASI that'll let you max out your Intelligence for super strong spells. That, plus your curses, will make your polymorph super hard to resist. When you get it.

Ninth level wizards get fifth level spells, like Control Winds and Skill Empowerment, as well as Scrying.

A tenth level transmuter is a Shapechanger, giving you the polymorph spell for free. You can also cast it on yourself once per short rest for free, but only if you turn into something CR 1 or lower. Sadly Medea isn't a beast or CR 1, but it doesn't hurt to practice. Also, yeah! You can now turn pretty much anyone into a Pig (CR 0, so there’s no excuse) or if you want to weaponize it, a Giant Boar (CR 2). Just promise to turn them back if they do your bidding. Still only lasts an hour, but they don’t have to know that.

Eleventh level wizards get sixth level spells. There really isn’t anything specifically Circe-like I want at this level, so just grab whatever your heart wants. There will be time for specifics later.

At twelfth level you get another ASI, and since your intelligence is maxed out we can diversify. Grab the War Caster feat for advantage on concentration saves (very good for pigmaking), the ability to cast spells with your hands full (not applicable), and best of all, you can cast spells as opportunity attacks if that spell as an action casting time and targets a creature. Oh hey, guess what spell fits that description?

Thirteenth level casters get seventh level spells! Again, not necessarily anything you need from here, but Plane Shift is always cool. Maybe you can stumble onto the pig dimension or something.

Your last goody from the transmutation specialty is to become a Master Transmuter, burning your transmuter stone in one go for a burst of magical power. Afterwards, you can’t make a new one until you take a long rest. You can use this for a Major Transformation, permanently changing a medium or smaller nonmagical object into another of similar size & mass (you also can’t cheese value out of this) over the course of 10 minutes. Alternatively, you make a Panacea, removing all curses, diseases, and poisons from a single creature, while also healing it back to full health. That’s some good eating. Going even further, you can Restore Life to cast Raise Dead without a spell slot. Death is a pretty hard line in the Nasuverse, but if anyone could do it it’d probably be Circe. Finally, you can Restore Youth to reduce a creature’s age by 3d10 years without extending their lifespan. You’ve clearly used that on yourself a couple times, but I can’t blame you.

Fifteenth level wizards get eighth level spells, and for once there is something I want to get. You might not use Scylla in-game, but hey, giant sea monsters are cool, so use either Summon Greater Demon, Dominate Monster, or Illusory Dragon to get one, depending on your preferred method.

You get yet another ASI, so bump up your Constitution for better concentration and more health- remember, health gets added retroactively, so that’s 16 extra this level, not one.

At seventeenth level you finally get ninth level spells, giving you access to Mass Polymorph for a proper pig banquet. This one is limited to only half the targets’ levels, but a pig is still CR 0, so it shouldn’t be a big issue. However, if you’re feeling really cruel, you can use True Polymorph for a more... permanent solution. If you keep concentration up for a full hour, the change lasts until it is dispelled. You can also turn objects into creatures, or creatures into objects, but none of those are particularly in character.

Eighteenth level wizards get Spell Mastery, giving you a 1st & 2nd level spell that you can cast for absolutely free, no restrictions. You can always change it later, but I highly suggest Magic Missile so you always have some damage on standby, and Alter Self for the versatility of it.

Your penultimate level grants you your ultimate ASI, so bump up your Charisma for an easier time tricking sailors. It doesn’t do much for the build, but at this point it doesn’t need to.

Your final level of the build gives you two Signature Spells, 3rd level spells that you can cast once per short rest without spending a spell slot. Sadly polymorph is a fourth level spell so it isn’t in the running, but Bestow Curse and Tidal Wave are good runners up. I never said you had to be nice to sailors, just help them out occasionally.

Pros and Cons

Pros

Polymorph is one of the easiest ways to utterly shut down an enemy if it hits, at the very least buying you an hour to run away and regroup. It’s also very funny.

The Transmuter’s Stone is a very powerful support tool, protecting you and giving you healing options wizards don’t normally get. You also come loaded with tools like Skill Empowerment, which is just flexible enough to be useful even when you’re not on a ship.

You get concentration free flight, which is incredibly useful for a spellcaster. Being able to completely avoid an enemy’s front line and turn their back line into pigs is very useful.

Cons

The reason your flight being concentration free is such a big deal is because a lot of your spells use concentration. Honestly, your saves aren’t that bad (esp. with war caster) but it still limits your options, especially when your signature move requires concentration.

While your stone is powerful, it has a huge recharge time to contend with, requiring a long rest followed by an extra 8 hours of work, and the entire time between now and then you might as well not have a subclass. It’s a pretty harsh penalty for actually using your class feature.

It takes a while for this build to go from level one to casting polymorph, so if you want a build you can jump right into and feel like the character, this build definitely isn’t what you’re looking for.

#caster of okeanos #DND 5e #D&D #FGO #fate grand order #wizard

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elizabethemerald · 5 years ago

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Cinderella Runs Away

Cinderella sobbed against the stone bench. Her once beautiful dress was torn to ribbons. Her step mother and sisters had departed for the ball and she was left alone with the house that had once been her father's.

As she sat and cried a shiver ran up her spine and she could feel a hand rubbing softly at her back.

"There, there my dear." A kindly voice said.

Cinderella sat back in shock.

"What-? Who-? Who are you?"

"Well I'm your fairy God mother!" The woman said with a cheery smile.

"My- I have a fairy Godmother?"

"Of course my dear. Everyone has fairy godmothers. I'm so sorry your dress was destroyed, but don't worry, with just a bit of magic I can give you the most perfect night at the Ball!"

Cinderella stood up and stepped away from where the older woman was sitting.

"You have magic, and you're my fairy godmother, so you can use your magic to help me?"

"I certainly can. Now let's get this dress fixed up so you can enjoy the Ball and maybe meet your prince!"

"I can't believe this!" Cinderella put her hand to her forehead.

"Its true! Now where did I put my wand?"

"I can't believe this!" Cinderella said again. "No. I can't believe you!"

Her fairy godmother froze as she was looking for her wand. She could only stare at Cinderella's rising horror and anger.

"You could have helped me at any point! You could have stopped them from hurting me. You could have stopped my father from marrying my step mother."

She turned away, marching closer to the fountain, shaking lightly in rage. A rat climbed out of her ruined blouse to nuzzle at her cheek. She idly scratched the rat’s chin before turning back to face her godmother.

"I've been treated as a slave in my own home. I've been beaten and starved. And the first I hear of you is when I don't get to take a night off to go to some silly dance? The first thing you offer to fix is some pointless dress?"

Tears were rolling in waves down her face. Another rat climbed up the back of her tattered dress to sit on her other shoulder.

"I'm sorry my dear, there are limits-"

"I don't want to hear about your limits!" Cinderella shouted. "If you can't help me, I don't want to see you."

Her fairy godmother watched her, sadness in her eyes. She gave a small sigh.

"Name your wish child, and if it is within my power to grant it, I will."

"I just...wish I could disappear." Cinderella whispered, wiping tears from her cheeks. The fairy sat back startled.

"You should be careful making wishes like that. There are some fey who would take you at your word."

"I want to leave. To run away as far as I can until I never have to be afraid of my step mother again."

"You would leave your home? Your father's lands?"

"What do I care for lands? This hasn't been my home for years."

"Very well my dear."

The fairy drew her wand from the empty air. She flicked it through the air leaving a trail of sparks and glitter.

"Bibbity bobbity boo."

With those magic words Cinderella's tattered dress changed and shifted into an elegant riding dress for a fine lady. Fine riding boots with glass beading formed with the dress.

"May I borrow one of your little friends?" The fairy asked, putting out her hand out for one of the rats of Cinderella's shoulders. "They will be perfectly safe, and once the spell is over they will return to their previous form."

Cinderella grimaced but took one of the rats from her shoulder and handed it to the fairy.

"Its ok Jasper." She said to the rat.

With another spell Jasper's body changed and grew until a horse with a woman's saddle stood before her. With a final flick of her wand the fairy pulled a small pouch out of the air. When she passed it to Cinderella it clincked.

"You have until the stroke of midnight to ride as far as you can. On the twelfth chime everything will return to how it was except for this pouch of silver.” Cinderella took the bridle from the fairy and turned away. “Best of luck child.”

Like a popping bubble Cinderella’s fairy godmother disappeared in a shower of glitter. Cinderella cast one last glance at the house that had once been her home. Then turned away.

“Alright Jasper, let’s see what you can do as a horse.” She looked at the saddle for a moment before rolling her eyes. “Side saddle.”

It took her longer to get situated on the horse than she would have preferred, it had been a long time since she had ridden side saddle. However soon enough she was able to encourage Jasper into a trot. She set off without another backward glance. There was nothing left her for in that house.

She and Jasper rode on through the night. In the distance she could see the lights of the castle. She had wanted and dreamed of going to the ball for months. But she had wanted to escape her step mother for years. The Ball would have been a nice reprieve from her constant work load, and the constant nagging of her step siblings. Now she had a permanent reprieve.

Soon she was outside the city. She rested Jasper when she could, but she needed to get farther if she wanted any real chance of this escape working. She kept pushing him through the rolling hills of the country side passing another small town.

She was just outside that small town when she heard the first chime of a clock tower. She dismounted immediately and walked alongside the horse as the last of the chimes sounded. She released the bridle as it shimmered in her hand.

Jasper shrank back to regular rat size and the rest of the finery disappeared into sparks and glitter. She picked up the rat and slipped him into her pocket.

“Go ahead and rest Jasper. You’ve earned it.”

She looked over herself closely. The finery the fairy had created had all returned to its previous tattered state. She was surprised to find that neither the pouch of silver or the glass beaded boots had disappeared. She didn’t quite trust the fairy not to take these away too, but either way, she still had farther she needed to go.

Her step mother and sisters wouldn’t be home from the ball until late and probably wouldn’t rise until well into the day. With any luck her step mother wouldn’t find out she was missing until midday. And she wouldn’t even know which way to look. Cinderella smiled to herself and walked on with purpose.

She nudged her other pocket, the one not containing the sleeping Jasper. Another rat stuck its head out of the pocket. She scooped it up and put it on her shoulder.

“Come on Ratsputin I need you to help me keep an eye out. I don’t want to be surprised by highwaymen. That would make for quick end to my escape.”

Ratsputin climbed nimbly up her hair to perch on the top of her head. She could tell by small shifts in his movements that he was looking around and sniffing the air, keeping a close ear on their surroundings.

Dawn found her trudging into another small town. She knew she was now miles and miles away from her home. She had some time, and since she didn’t trust the fey silver she had some purchases to make. The first thing she searched for was an inn, she was desperately tired and knew she would need a good night’s sleep eventually if she was going to keep traveling.

She entered under the sign of a goose in a top hat. The inside of the inn was small, a little crummy, but warm. She stepped up to the innkeep, trying to keep the exhaustion out of her face.

“Have you any rooms available?” She asked.

“I may.” The innkeep gave her a stern look from the rat sitting on her head to her tattered and worn dress. “However I don’t give charity.”

“I have coin.” Cinderella looked down at herself. “I may have fallen on a bit of hard luck recently.”

The man raised an eyebrow as if he was considering her story.

“Two silver a night.”

A few quick calculations in her head, put this price as a bit high for the quality of inn this was, but she did have the coin and if the silver disappeared from her purse tomorrow it wouldn’t do her any good. She handed over the silvers. She scowled as the inn keep inspected each silver to make sure they were real.

“Very well. Name?”

“Pardon?”

“Name. For the room?”

“Uhh.” Her mind blanked for a moment. She couldn’t use Cinderella here. If her stepmother came looking for her that would leave a clear trail for her to follow. “Ember. My name is Ember.”

Again the man looked like he didn’t believe her. He held out the key for her room, but kept a tight grip on it for a moment.

“You on the run from the law?”

She stepped back in surprise, shock on her face.

“N-no! It’s my stepmothe-” She clapped her mouth shut as he put up a hand, doing her best not to flinch.

“More than I need to know. As long as you are not on the run from the law.” He handed over the key. Then pointed at the rat that was still perched on her head watching the interaction closely. “Keep an eye on that thing. If I catch it in the kitchen its going in the soup.”

“Yessir.” Cinderella took the key and turned for the stairs. She paused before she took the first step. “I need to make some purchases before I leave town. Might I ask directions to some local sellers?”

That evening found her in her room in the Inn. Her back ached, and she was so tired she couldn’t see straight anymore. Still she smiled. She had replaced her tattered clothes with sensible travel clothes. Including trousers. Nothing like what the fairy had created for her, at least this way she wasn’t asking to be robbed as soon as she left town. With her trousers, over coat and her hair tucked into the wide flat hat she bought, she would look like a man until someone saw her face up close.

In addition she had purchased a real horse and riding tack, some hardy travel food, and a dagger to defend herself. Now she had only a few coppers left to her name, but now she didn’t have to worry about the fey silver disappearing. She had also purchased a pair of simple walking shoes, for whatever reason her glass boots hadn’t disappeared with the rest of her grand outfit, but she wanted to be prepared for when they do.

She slept better that night in the uncomfortable bed than she had in years in either her tower or in front of the kitchen hearth. She was free of her step mother, free of her step sisters, free of their cruelty. Free to be herself, free to make herself a new person. Ember. She liked that name. Maybe she could keep it.

#cinderella #writing emerald #queer myths #fairy tale

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raeynbowboi · 6 years ago

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The Character Forge: Building an Embodiment of Insanity

I’m going to diverge from my usual routine a bit today. Normally, I pick a pop culture character and make a build for them. But today, I want to do something different. I’m going to build a character around a theme, motif, or focus area. I’ll be covering a character focused on insanity. My goal for this build is to create a character who is explicitly crafted to instill and feed paranoia, delusions, and psychological trauma in as many facets as possible, including racial traits, feats, and spells where applicable.

Building on Insanity:

it’s easy to simply say I want to drive people crazy, but it’s another thing to actually map out the effects you want to have on people. So before we can address individual spells and features, we need to discuss what impacts we want our abilities to have.

Alter Senses: Spells such as Unearthly Chorus, Blindness/Deafness or Blur that distort what a person sees and hears is a great way to instill a dread of insanity. Spells that buff your abilities or debuff the target are great ways to effect people’s perceptions.

Hallucinations: Similar to alter senses, Hallucinations cause people to see things that aren’t really there, playing a trick on their mind. A focus on illusion magic will help with this.

Fear: While insanity is not intrinsically linked to horror, the ravings of writers like Lovecraft and Poe often feature protagonists who have lost their minds or interact with people who have, usually accompanied by horrible nightmare imagery. Frightening people is a good way to warp their mind.

Mind Control: There’s nothing scarier than realizing you don’t have full control of yourself. Through Charmed effects like Compulsion, Command, and Dominate Person, you take away free will and make their mind your plaything.

Mental Anguish: a focus on attacking the mind itself, psychic damage is the best way to actively attack the minds of your victims.

Mind Alterations: Permanent changes to someone’s mind like Modify Memory can be truly horrifying, especially when the stolen or altered memories make it so that a person’s mind no longer makes sense.

Powers, Features, and Abilities

Altered Senses Blindness Deafness (Bard, Cleric, Sorcerer, Wizard, Spore Druid, Fiend Warlock, Undying Warlock) Blur (Artificer, Sorcerer, Wizard, Desert Land Druid, Hexblade Warlock) Maddening Darkness (Warlock, Wizard) Mental Prison (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Pass Without Trace (Druid, Ranger, Trickery Cleric) Power Word Pain (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Unearthly Chorus (Bard)

Illusions, Delusions, and Hallucinations Alter Self (Artificer, Sorcerer, Wizard, Warlock: Master of Myriad Forms*) Disguise Self (Artificer, Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard, Trickery Cleric, Warlock: Mask of Many Faces) Dissonant Whispers (Bard, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer, Great Old One Warlock) Distort Value (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Hallucinatory Terrain (Bard, Druid, Warlock, Wizard) Illusory Dragon (Wizard) Major Image (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Minor Illusion (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Mirage Arcane (Bard, Druid, Wizard) Mirror Image (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Trickery Cleric, Coast Land Druid) Mislead (Bard, Wizard) Project Image (Bard, Wizard) Silent Image (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) Simulacrum (Wizard) Weird (Wizard)

Psychic Barrage Mind Sliver (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Mind Spike (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Phantasmal Force (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) Phantasmal Killer (Wizard, Hexblade Warlock) Psychic Scream (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Shadow Blade (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Synaptic Static (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard)

Fear and Paranoia Cause Fear (Warlock, Wizard) Enemies Abound (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Eyebite (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Fear (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Oath of Conquest) Hallow* (Cleric, Fiend Warlock, Divine Soul Sorcerer, Theurgy Wizard)

Brainwashing Command (Cleric, Paladin, Fiend Warlock, Divine Soul Sorcerer, Theurgy Wizard) Compulsion (Bard, Order Cleric, Heroism Paladin, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer Warlock: Bewitching Whispers) Dominate Person (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard, Order, Trickery Cleric, Conquest, Oathbreaker, Treachery Paladin, Archfey, Great Old One Warlock) Enthrall (Bard, Sorcerer, Heroism Paladin) Incite Greed (Cleric, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Mass Suggestion (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Otto’s Irresistible Dancing (Bard, Wizard) Suggestion (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Tasha’s Hideous Laughter (Bard, Wizard, Great Old One Warlock)

Mind Altering Crown of Madness (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Oathbreaker Paladin) Confusion (Bard, Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard, Knowledge Cleric, Oathbreaker, Treachery Paladin, Warlock: Dreadful Word) Feeblemind (Bard, Druid, Warlock, Wizard) Gift of Gab (Bard, Wizard) Glibness (Bard, Warlock) Mind Blank (Bard, Wizard) Modify Memory (Bard, Wizard, Trickery Cleric, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer)

Eldritch Horrors (Fear of the Unknown) Arms of Hadar (Warlock, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer) Create Homunculus (Wizard) Enervation (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Evard’s Black Tentacles (Warlock, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer) Hunger of Hadar (Warlock, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer)

Oh How the Mind Races

When setting up a race for this build, like with the spell list, we need a race whose features exacerbate the insanity features.

Changeling: Being able to shapeshift so easily is a great way to make someone feel crazy.

Eladrin Elf - Winter: Their Fey Teleportation can Frighten those they appear next to.

Gith: They have psionic features.

Kalashtar: Split between two minds, Kalashtar is a race with psychic powers.

Simic Hybrid: While not inherently mental or insane, their existence as gene spliced humans with animal features, it’s an easy way to invoke Lovecraftian Horror.

A Class in Judgement

Bard Whispers: This subclass is hellbent on attacking the mind, unearthing people’s fears, and preying on them.

Sorcerer Aberrant Mind: This subclass gets their power from a mental aberration, and is a Sorcerer variation on the Great Old One Warlock, and invokes Lovecraftian Horror.

Warlock Great Old One: Invoking the twisted mind of H.P. Lovecraft, who himself was paranoid, the Old Gods similarly prey upon the minds of mortals.

Wizard Divination: Not really a mental subclass, but you could flavor Portent as messing with perceptions, and making people misjudge their aim. Illusion: This school of wizardry is focused on making people believe things that aren’t there.

Stats and Proficiencies

As the main classes suggested cast with Charisma, that is our main stat. You need to convince people to believe your mad ravings are true. Dexterity will make you hard to hit, all the better to convince people you aren’t real, are a figment of their imagination, or otherwise paranormal. A good Constitution ensures that even if you are hit, you can act like it’s no big deal, or like you’re supernaturally immune to pain or injury. Having high Wisdom reinforces your own perceptions and makes sure you can’t be fooled. Strength will follow, it’s not a super important stat for this build, but if you want to deal at least decent damage with your physical attacks, it’s a little important. And Intelligence gets dumped. Book Smarts won’t help you much in deceiving people or driving them insane.

Race: Changeling Background: Charlatan Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class: College of Whispers Bard (14) Aberrant Mind Sorcerer (6) Base Stats: Strength: 10 (0) Dexterity: 19 (+4) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 8 (-1) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 20 (+5) Saving Throws: Strength: 0 Dexterity: +10 Constitution: +2 Intelligence: -1 Wisdom: +1 Charisma: +11 Combat Stats: HP: 137 AC: 17 Speed: 30 Initiative: +7 Proficiency Bonus: +6 Passive Perception: 17 Dark Vision: 0 feet Proficiencies: Deception (Charlatan) Insight (Changeling) Intimidation (Changeling) Perception (Bard) Persuasion (Bard) Slight of Hand (Changeling) Stealth (Bard) Skills: Acrobatics: +7 Medicine: +4 Animal Handling: +4 Nature: +2 Arcana: +2 Perception: +7 Athletics: +3 Performance: +8 Deception: +17 Persuasion: +17 History: +2 Religion: +2 Insight: +13 Sleight of Hand: +10 Intimidation: +17 Stealth: +10 Investigation: +2 Survival: +4 Damage Resistances: Psychic Sorcerer Feature: Sorcery Points 6 Sorcery Points Sorcerer Feature: Metamagic Extended Spell Subtle Spell Bard Feature: Magical Secrets Evard’s Black Tentacles Immolation Pass Without Trace Phantsmal Killer

Spell Slots 1st (4) 2nd (3) 3rd (3) 4th (3) 5th (3) 6th (2) 7th (2) 8th (1) 9th (1)

Spellbook of Madness

Cantrips 2nd Level 4th Level Chill Touch Blindness/Deafness Compulsion Dancing Lights Blur Confusion Friends Calm Emotions Evard’s Black Tentacles Mending Crown of Madness Phantasmal Killer Message Darkness 5th Level Mind Sliver Detect Thoughts Dominate Person Minor Illusion Mind Spike Immolation Prestidigitation Mirror Image Mislead Unearthly Chorus Pass Without Trace Modify Memory 1st Level Phantasmal Force Synaptic Static Arms of Hadar Shadow Blade 6th Level Dissonant Whispers 3rd Level Eyebite False Life Enemies Abound 7th Level Tasha’s Hideous Laughter Fear Project Image Hunger of Hadar Major Image Sending

Actions: Countercharm: Using a Performance action grants friendly creatures within 30 feet radius advantage against charmed and frightened conditions. Bonus Actions: Bardic Inspiration: Add 1d10 to 5 allies’ rolls per long rest. Flexible Casting: Convert your Sorcery Points into spell slots. Features: Change Appearance: Shapeshift as an action. You have advantage on Deception checks to cover your tracks. Divergent Persona: You have proficiency with a tool. Create a false identity for this proficiency. While using this identity, you have doubled proficiency with the tool of your choice. False Identity: You have created a fake identity, and can forge documents if you have seen their handwriting. Font of Inspiration: Regain a Bardic Inspiration after a rest. Invasive Thoughts: Create a telepathic link with a creature 30 feet away as a bonus action. Mantle of Whispers: When someone dies, steal their shadow and wear their shadow as a disguise for an hour. You gain access to the dead person’s general information. Psionic Defense: You resist Psychic damage. Psionic Sorcery: You cast Aberrant Mind spells without components. Psionic Spells: You gain additional Aberrant Mind spells Psychic Blades: Add 5d6 Psychic damage to your melee weapon attacks. Shadow Lore: Those who fail a Wisdom check become Charmed to believe that you know and will expose the deepest darkest secrets, and obey your commands out of fear of being found out. Song of Rest: With a song, add 1d10 to healing effects from a rest. Unsettling Visage: Once per rest, impose disadvantage on a creature trying to hurt you. Warped Being: your AC is 13 + your DEX mod while without armor Words of Terror: Your words instill fear for 1 hour.

This build was a bit unorthodox, but it was also a lot of fun to put together. Can you think of a better way to embody madness and insanity in DnD 5e? Do you think you’ll use this in a campaign? Do you have any ideas for something else I can do with DnD 5e? Thanks for joining me, and I’ll see you guys next time in the Character Forge, where heroes are made.

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 5 years ago

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Hospitality: A Shadowgast Fanfic

I saw a post on tumblr about what would happen if a vampire and a fairy met up for dinner and my brain went HEY HOW ABOUT THAT BUT SHADOWGAST. So, happy early Halloween! I hope you all enjoy!

Read on AO3

Preview:

“Where are you going?” Essek’s brother Verin asked of him. In the darkness and flickering candle light, music slipped through the cracks of the manor house. Women and men flitted between rooms like phantom, mouths dripping with jabs and laughter and gossip-obscured by masks and veils and whatever costumes had caught their fancy. There was the clink of glasses and the tap of shoes, as the normally mausoleum quiet home was filled with activity. Essek was dressed simply in black, having long ago tossed aside his mask. He had no such use for these things-and he had hoped to slip out of the party without someone noticing. He apparently had no such luck.

“Does it matter?” Essek asked, dawning his cloak and fixing his satchel.

“You always disappear at times like this,” Verin groaned, sounding resigned to his fate regardless. “You haven’t even fed tonight.”

“Please, as if I could have much of an appetite watching Mother seduce her fifth husband in ten years,” Essek said, jabbing his thumb towards the ballroom. Verin cringed sympathetically and Essek sighed. “I am just going out to get some fresh air and actually enjoy my All Hallow’s Eve. I’ll be back before morning-no one will even miss me.”

“What should I tell them if they ask where you went,” Verin asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I got eloped,” Essek said flatly, before leaving without allowing his brother to get another word in edgewise. He shook off the unpleasantness with a shudder as he quickly made his way down the path and past the line of carriages-quickly garbing himself in the shadows themselves to slip unseen past the footmen, and the servants, and the couples who had found dark corners for the clandestine meetings. He didn’t pay any of them any mind, after all, he had his own appointment to keep that night as he hurriedly found his path and headed into the woods. Essek didn’t enjoy the outdoors, but, it was worth the brief discomfort to make his appointment for that night. After all, there were only four times a year when he could.

The forest was dark, its branches reaching up into the sky like long twisting fingers that grabbed onto the blanket of fog and refused to let it go. Brambles caught at the edges of Essek’s cloak as he delved deeper into it’s dark recesses-past the crumbling gravestones marked with the long forgotten dead, past the brook that bubbled with water that was pitch black in the deep night and the slick river-stones, past even the forgotten cottage that sagged into the earth like a long forgotten husk. None of that scared him, after all, how could he be scared if he was one of the horrors that haunted this forest? There was little threat to be had from a drifting shade or will o'wisp-not when Essek was walking willingly to one of the forest’s deepest secrets on the night of greatest danger. The danger was worth the reward in Essek’s eyes.

Essek came to the fairy ring, the innocuous circle of mushrooms that sprouted between the hollow trunks of two dead trees. Essek barely paused before stepping foot into it. The moment he did, reality shifted and refracted like falling through a slightly cracked mirror. He almost lost balance but caught himself before he did. The forest was the same but even more vibrant-the shadows darker, the sounds louder, the sky pulsing with a violet hue. He heard the distant sound of merry-making and laughter-screams and howls-but the echoes didn’t quite carry weight. After all, those who were not invited could not enter the domain of another in the Feywild. Beyond was a line of trees-with light flickering from beyond. Essek quickly dusted himself off to the best of his ability, fixed the satchel on his shoulder before stepping through to the other side.

Beyond the trees and the darkness was drenched in the colors of autumn, so bright that Essek needed to take a moment or two to allow his unaccustomed eyes time to focus. Jack-o-laterns glowed with their craggy faces open in grins-clearly having been carved with an astute attention to detail, while fat golden candles dripping with wax were affixed to the branches of trees set on fire with red and gold and yellow leaves. Clusters of dandelions and marigolds popped up from between twisting roots, and a stream bubbled a merry welcoming tune. Spiderwebs glimmered with dew and waved like drapes, and then appearing amongst the leaves and light a cat looked up at him and meowed in greeting.

“Happy All Hallow’s Eve,” Essek greeted, knowing better than to be rude as he bent down and offered his hand to the cat. The cat moved in and pressed his head to his fingers, questing for attention and pets and happy to receive them. “Is your Master in?”

The cat, who Essek knew was named Frumpkin, gave another meow before turning and trotting off beyond the trailing vines of a willow. Essek followed suit, pushing beyond that and seeing a banquet table set up in the clearing-filled with food that would have been irresistible for the senses...for a creature unlike him. Instead the more tantalizing thing was the books-the bookshelves carved into trunks of trees and into stones-magical crystals that buzzed and whirled caught by the wind. Crystal cases of scrolls and maps and other oddities that shimmered and shifted in their contents as you looked. Sitting at a smaller table, with a book open upon it was the one that Essek had been seeking. The Master of this domain was dressed finely, clad in robes of ember and ash. He looked up, eyes a dark blue-flitted with vibrant shocks of gold and violet as the light caught them. His features were strong and striking-ears long and hair curls of flame and braided through with leaves and blooming chrysanthemum. He smiled in pleasure at the sight of him, reaching out fingers darkened as if by soot and glowing with cracks of gold magic.

“Happy All Hallow’s Eve,” the master of this slice of the feywild greeted. “I was wondering if I would see you again.”

“I, of course, would never pass up the opportunity...so long as you’ll invite me in,” Essek said, remaining on the edge of the space. The barrier between him and the fae pulsed and stretched taut over Essek’s skin. The fae smiled a sharp knowing smile.

“Of course,” he said. “You are welcome here, and are owed all of my hospitality.”

Essek felt the barrier give, and allowed him into the space. Though, he knew better to think it came without strings. After all, hospitality was its own protection for something of his kind. Essek sat in the empty seat at the table-the one that had been clearly prepared for this visit. Essek didn’t touch the glass of mulled wine that had been poured and that filled the air with heady spice.

“It has been months since our last talk,” Essek said, pulling out the three tomes that he had brought along. “And I couldn’t help but continue to think about our conversation from last time.”

“Ah, yes, about the use of transmutation magic to permanently change the form of another,” the fey said, eyes flashing excitedly.

“I was wondering if you would like to look at these,” Essek said, offering the tomes. “As they could be a great aid to our discussion. I scoured libraries and many shops in search of them, they were quite a rare find.”

“Are you intending this as a gift?” His tone was curious, and he trailed his fingers along the edge of the closest spine with a gentle sweep.

“Of course not,” Essek said. “Nor a favor. But instead, it is something I wish to share with you given freely.”

“Very clever,” he laughed, tapping his fingers in rhythms of three. “I appreciate your diligence on such things.”

“These nights we share I hold close to my heart, I wouldn’t wish for you to feel obligated to pay back a favor,” Essek explained.

“A gift for a gift I would repay,” he said, hand catching Essek’s. The heat of it nearly singed Essek’s cold flesh, and Essek was half sure he would pull his hand away and find it scorched. The fey turned his hand over though instead, thumb running along the veins of Essek’s wrist. “If you would allow me...if you would give me your name.”

“You may not have my name, you may call me Essek,” he reminded him.

“Stingy,” the fey hummed, sounding humored. “You are too brilliant by half, my friend.”

“And what shall I call you tonight?” Essek asked him in turn.

“You may call me Caleb,” he said, tilting his head to the side as if listening to the name for a moment. He appeared to be satisfied with the sound. “Yes, Caleb will suffice.”

“Then, shall we Caleb?” Essek said, motioning to the books.

The following time-though time was a strange slippery thing in the Feywild, was spent in deep conversation and sharing brilliant realizations. Every time he met Caleb like this, he wondered how he had gone on before. The first time he had stumbled upon this place and the master of it, he had been confused and defensive-but despite their differences they shared a kinship that Essek had never known among any of his kind. Others in his coven were hoarders of valuables, owing to centuries of gathering wealth. But he hadn’t ever met a person who valued knowledge as much as Caleb-who delighted in magic for magic’s sake. As they continued, Caleb spoke about his friends-other denizens of the Feywild or regular visitors. Essek only could make the trek to this place when the veil was the weakest four times a year, owing to his nature. But Caleb delighted in telling stories of his companions, the comings and goings of his adventures. Those seemed to just fuel his creativity, and he shared with Essek a host of spells he had created since their last meeting. Essek had met Caleb’s friends all at various points when he had visited Caleb, and somehow they were nearer and dearer to him than his coven who interacted daily with him. Caleb’s life was full of movement and activity, which was fitting for him. Essek supposed that was the difference of their immortality. Essek didn’t mind his undeath, nor did the particulars of his situation bother him. But despite having a coven, he was a solitary creature by nature as most of his sort were. After all, his kind could claim they were of high society, but there were no debates or agreements to resolve bad blood. Instead they would claw each other’s guts out at the slightest show of weakness.

Finally though they came to a natural ebb where Caleb stretched much like a cat, and Essek watched the lines of his figure with a pang in his stomach. His body seemed determined to remind him that he, indeed, hadn’t fed yet that night. He, of course, could go a while without feeding. But it was difficult to remember that when looking at Caleb.

“Is there anything I can get for you, I would hate to be neglectful of my duties as your host,” he said, nodding his head over to where the spread of food lay-piping hot soups and roasted duck with golden skin and cakes frosted with sumptuous frosting. “Perhaps something to eat?”

Cheeky bastard, Essek thought as he resisted the urge to bite the inside of his own cheek. The taste of his own blood would do nothing but make it worse. Caleb had noticed.

“As much as I appreciate the offer, I must decline,” Essek said stiffly. “Food like that doesn’t appeal to me.”

“The intricacies of your peculiar state,” Caleb said, with a knowing blink-much like a cat.

“There is something you could offer me,” Essek said, standing up and throwing caution to the wind. He pressed his hands to the arms of Caleb’s chair, feeling a dark thrill at being taller than him for once, seeing the way that Caleb’s head turned up to give Essek a purposeful view of his neck. Essek could feel his fangs begin to ache at the sight of pale-freckled skin and blue-violet spider-web veins-the perfume of his scent like fragrant wood set to smoke and the charge of golden-honey magic. “If you were to give it freely, to nourish and sustain me. Certainly no one would doubt your capabilities as a host and I would be so very grateful.”

“Ay, there’s the rub my dearest friend,” Caleb chuckled, eyes dark with longing and crinkling with humor, allowing Essek to move down and finally-finally begin pressing kisses to his neck-the taste of him nearly throwing him into a frenzy. But he held back, the dark hunger that boiled over in his body contained by the skin of his teeth. “This game we play would still be at a stand still.”

“How so,” Essek asked, kissing the junction of his jaw, pepping kisses as he slid his fingers along the edge of Caleb’s shirt.He wanted to feel more, taste more. After all he was a selfish creature not used to denying himself anything, but denying himself of this was the sweetest torture he could imagine. After all, it would make savoring it all the sweeter.

“If you feed from me, I belong to you and I would have to follow you. But by consuming within my domain, you belong to me and you would have to stay here forever,” Caleb said, catching Essek’s face between his hands. He brought their mouths together for a bruising hungry kiss, smoldering with desire that ran so hot that Essek couldn’t help the growl at the back of his throat. Neither of them needed to breathe-not really, but Essek pulled back so that he could settle his mind and thoughts on the matter.

“I want you to come with me,” Essek said, his whole heart poured out for Caleb to see.

“And I want you to stay,” Caleb told him with just as much conviction. “So it appears we are at an impasse.”

“It appears we are, my friend,” Essek said, curling a lock of Caleb’s hair around his finger and then tucking it behind his ear.

“And out of time,” Caleb said, standing up at full height. He kissed Essek again with a tenderness that Essek had only ever been given by him. Essek stood there and let it wash over him like the heat from a gently minded hearth. Caleb’s hands traced down his spine and settled at his hips, as if once again mapping him for his memories as Essek savored this moment for all it was worth. Eventually Caleb pulled away. “The veil begins to thicken, and the night draws to an end. I would not have you hurt, so I must bid you goodbye.”

“And so we part...but only for a little while,” Essek said, taking Caleb’s hands again.

“My friends and I will make flower crowns again for the winter,” Caleb said with a hum. Frumpkin twined at his feet purring with affection. “Lavender roses perhaps. Shall I expect you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Essek said, kissing Caleb’s hands one last time before they parted. They shared one final look. I love you, Essek wanted to say. I love you, I would stay for you, I would remain here for you. But he knew better to lie to a fey. There was some part of his heart that was still selfish-and though he did want to stay and he did love him...he also couldn’t give up the world outside. Not with all the things he could continue to learn and discover there. One day he would figure out a way to have both, but until then, this would need to be enough.

And so Essek left the grove with his books tucked safely in his satchel. He slipped back through the fairy ring. He didn’t once look back, knowing that if he spared a single look he would be bound to that place and run back into Caleb’s arms and stay there. He walked past the trees, past the graveyard, and all the way back to the manor he called home. He slipped down the stairs, down to the basement where the sun wouldn’t reach it’s clawing fingers to wrench him from his slumber. He still felt it though-the moment the sun began to rise above the horizon. With it, the chance of that beautiful and terrifying future faded away yet again.

And so Essek settled down in his coffin, slipping into the dark recesses of a dreamless breathless sleep-with the last thought in his mind being a kiss.

#critical role fanfic #critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #halloween fic #vampire!essek #fey!caleb

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