Have you ever wondered exactly what's going on with all the dead bodies in the Wyrm's Rock audience hall, if you leave and come back after Gortash's coronation?
I did some in-game research while working on a fic recently, and in the name of sparing anyone else from having to lay all this out, too—here's a list of the victims, and some notes-based educated guessing on Gortash's motivation here.
(Beyond Iron Counsul Nuff's summary in the screenshot above: "My lord requires a clear path to his magnificent future. We cut away the troublesome bramble.")
Lord Petric Amber
Lord Amber's Bodyguard
Lady Ailis Belt
Lady Haeril Birch
Baron Callem Bormul
Lady Alia Durinbold
Lady Durinbold's Bodyguard
Lady Durinbold's Attendant
Lord Sarken Eomane
Admiral Peil Hullhollyn
Lady Winstra Hullhollyn
Lord Raylen Jannath
Lord Jannath's Bodyguard
Duke Dillard Portyr
Lord Portyr's Attendant
Lord Portyr's Bodyguard
Lady Beatrice Provoss
Lord Myer Ravenshade
Lady Silifrey Sashenstar
Lord Rugger Shattershield
Lord Shattershield's Bodyguard
Lord Shattershield's Attendant
Lord Milton Tillerturn
Lord Randolf Vammas
Lady Madeline Whitburn
9 Unnamed Patriars
First I'll note that not everyone you see lingering after the coronation ends up dead: I could talk to Lady Eshvelt Guthmere, Lady Ruth Linnacker, and Lady Freida Oberon, and their bodies aren't present in the hall later.
It also doesn't seem to be connected to vocalizing support for Gortash or not—you can overhear Portyr and Shattershield challenging him in the ambient dialogue after the coronation, but when you walk around and talk to everyone else the only one who has anything negative to say is Silifrey Sashenstar. Everyone else on the list above sings Gortash's praises.
So, here's what I think it is!
In the corner of the audience hall, you can find this note:
The Parliament of Peers is the body that's responsible for electing new dukes, and they held a formal vote to raise Gortash as Archduke and dissolve their own political body. Note the numbers: there's 23 members.
So who are these members? Up in Gortash's study, you can find this note discussing bribing, blackmailing, and threatening members of the Peers, which gives us the names of eight:
Five of these eight end up dead in the audience hall (Portyr, Jannath, Whitburn, Sashenstar, and Eomane).
As for the three Peers listed who don't end up in dead in the hall—Lady Ruth Linnacker, Lord Hir Rillyn, and Lady Haeril Vanthampur—let's look to this note:
Gortash has leverage against Ruth Linnacker through the abduction of her granddaughter, and I don't think it's unfair to assume Hir Rillyn and Haeril Vanthampur are similarly under Gortash's control, whether tadpoled or blackmailed (this is the one big assumption I had to make—bear with me!).
The other two with non-murderous leverage against them in the note above do end up dead, but I think there's some added context: I imagine Raylen Jannath is the husband of Wisteria Jannath, who Gortash canonically had an affair with (maybe it's personal? Maybe Raylen didn't care enough about the leverage of his own affair, if he knew she'd had one too?). For Portyr, there's the following in Gortash's study, noting he considers him a threat that shouldn't be underestimated, so he may not have wanted to stop at threats:
The inclusion of Portyr on the list of eight Peers could imply that the other three dukes are members of the Parliament of Peers, too. There's a book in Franc Peartree's house about the current state of who the dukes are, which I don't have my own screenshot of, but here's the relevant text from the wiki:
We know Belynne Stelmane is dead as part of the Bhaalist plot. Ulder Ravengard is tadpoled. The fourth duke was Thalamra Vanthampur, who's dead. They were waiting to replace her until Ravengard was found or confirmed gone—and Gortash was given this seat.
So, back to the original list of people murdered after the coronation. I bolded the names of those who aren't seemingly collateral damage (the bodyguards and attendants, and the unnamed patriars): there's 17.
17 killed after the coronation
Plus three Peers controlled through blackmail or other means
Plus Duke Stelmane and Duke Ravengard, dead and tadpoled respectively
That adds up to 22.
Add in Gortash's own vote, which he would have from taking (Thalamra) Vanthampur's seat, and you get 23.
The same number as the members of the Parliament of Peers.
Gortash didn't just orchestrate the Peers naming him the city's first Archduke, and he didn't just influence them to dissolve the political body that could vote another duke in. He made sure the individuals were destroyed, too.
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Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.
Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-
“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”
Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”
Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”
“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.
Dustin frowned. “Go where?”
“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”
“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”
Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.
He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.
“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”
Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”
Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”
“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”
“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”
“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”
“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”
“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”
Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”
Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”
Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.
“‘S fine.”
“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”
Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”
“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”
Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”
Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”
“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”
“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”
Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”
“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”
Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”
“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”
“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”
“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”
Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”
“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”
Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”
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Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all.
You can also find this on ao3.
No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner.
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request
If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
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