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phantomdecibel · 1 year

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Whistling Thorn

Endurance of the soul.

Or – Eurylochus meets Astyanax, featuring Lil Ajax.

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It was the dead of night when they finally landed on the island, and Eurylochus was alone.

Or, well –

Almost alone.

Hesitantly, he pulled back the blankets again, just to confirm what he’d already seen, grimacing in confusion all the while. In all honesty, it made no sense.

Because – moments before Odysseus and Polites had left to speak with the locals, promising to be back by sunrise at the latest, They had handed him something. Or rather – shoved something into his arms and ran, something suspiciously heavy and bundled in cloth.

As they’d started away he’d unwrapped the thing, vaguely noting the increase in the speed of their footsteps, revealing–

What. The ever-loving fuck.

“Good luck!” Eurylochus could still hear the amused-terrified lilt to Polite’s voice as he’d left, and Odysseus’s muffled snickers echoed in his mind.

Being in charge of an entire fleet, responsible for the safety of six hundred (five hundred and ninety eight) men? That was fine, Eurylochus could handle it. He was the second in command, he’d had plenty of experience in leadership and keeping people alive, he could look after the crew while Odysseus was gone, and everything would be fine. It was Odysseus and Polites who had the dangerous job, exploring the unknown on their own with no backup.

He knew what he was doing.

Or –

He did know what he was doing; what to expect, how to handle being in charge.

He didn’t know how to handle this, though.

Because in that moment, right after they’d docked and his friends were about to leave, that Odysseus had walked up to him and handed him a bundle wrapped in cloth, and Polites wished him good luck, and they’d vanished, Eurylochus – curious to a fault – had unwrapped the bundle to see what it was.

In his arms wasn’t a heavy bundle of cloth. It wasn’t flowers (like one might expect from having Polites involved), or weapons, or even their last bit of food.

No.

His friends had dumped a sleeping infant in his arms and, ignoring his cries and questions, booked it off the ship.

Eurylochus was… stumped.

He’d never been good with children, even when he’d been a child himself. Odysseus was their brain, Eurylochus himself was the muscle, and Polites their unwavering moral compass (and quite often the one to get them out of trouble with his perfect innocent act).

(…or get them in to trouble while remaining out of it himself, as the smug little bastard saw fit.)

…

…where did they even get it from?

They were on a boat! In the middle of the godsforsaken ocean. There was no reasonable explanation for Odysseus and Polites having, somehow, acquired a baby. And leaving it with him of all people. Him!

Did- did they get it from Troy? Has there, seriously, just been a child on board for the weeks since they left back for Ithaca? …how had they even been feeding it, anyways?

“I am going to be having words,” Eurylochus grumbled to himself, trying to adjust the infant in his arms so it could sleep more comfortably, “with those two, when they get back.”

Walking across the deck, in the dark of night, back towards Odysseus’s quarters, Eurylochus was struck by a sense of deja-vu. Odysseus, rushing past as Troy burned behind him. Odysseus, barely noticing Eurylochus grabbing his shoulder, Odysseus clutching desperately at his chest. A cry, a wail not necessarily inhuman, but certainly not something that belonged on a boat.

…Polites, a brief look of shock marring his expression, before loudly declaring that their Captain was crying, and dragging him into his cabin.

Eurylochus had dismissed it at the time. Odysseus, try as he might to dispute it, cried all the time. It wasn’t exactly an abnormal occurrence, and that night had been difficult on everyone, that man most of all. But now that he held a sleeping child in his arms, retracing Odysseus’s steps from that night, Eurylochus couldn’t deny it any longer.

The odd hours, the growing bags under his friends’ eyes… they’d snuck an infant on board.

If there hadn’t been the risk of alerting the crew, Eurylochus would have cursed his friends out right then and there. As it were, that would raise too many questions – maybe even wake the child. Silently plotting his revenge would have to do for now.

Maybe he’d toss the both of them overboard, just briefly, before the ships departed the island. Once they finally weren’t wanting for food, he’d… he’d, throw their bread at them, or something. Make them drink the salty ocean water. Anything to make sure they knew just how fucking stupid they were, brining an infant onto a warship, and then leaving it with him with no warning! How were they even caring for it? Feeding it? Didn’t babies need fresh air and sunlight, wasn’t that something that Penelope had said once as she sat outside with little Telemachus–

Ah. Of course.

Eurylochus looked down at the child in his arms, slowing to a stop by a lantern.

With his darker hair and little wrinkled nose, the infant could almost be mistaken for Odysseus’s son. He wasn’t, of course, Odysseus would never cheat on Penelope, but the child certainly resembled Telemachus, as he had been when they’d left years ago for this horrid war.

Of course Odysseus had gotten attached. Of course Polites had helped him hide.

Bleeding hearts, the both of them. Eurylochus sighed, long and weary.

Of course he was going to help them take care of the kid.

Hide it? No, that wouldn’t be healthy, for his friends or the child. Growing up on a boat probably wouldn’t be incredibly healthy for the kid anyways, but keeping it cooped up for however long it took to get back home would be even less so. Ugh. This was all getting so complicated, and Eurylochus was exhausted.

Couldn’t they have wait until morning to hand off the kid they’d picked up gods-knew-where?

In that moment, the child woke up.

“No, no –” Eurylochus shushed as it started to scream bloody murder. “Shhh, sshhhhhh, you’re fine, you’re fine –”

The infant continued to disagree. Loudly.

“Shhhhh,” he tried again, to no avail. Eurylochus started walking again – hopefully the motion would help soothe the screaming banshee. “Come on now, there’s no need for that, you’re fine – oh why did they decide to leave me with this thing?”

“Eurylochus?” A new voice called. Of. Course. someone had heard the child, wailing it’s head off. He couldn’t be that lucky. “What’s that noise, sir, is everything alright?”

He shook his head with another hearty sigh as the youngest man in the crew came stumbling to a stop by his side. “Everything’s fine, Ajax. Your captain is simply an idiot, and decided to leave me to deal with it while he’s gone.”

Ajax, incredibly unused to hearing anyone badmouth his captain and king, stared at Eurylochus with wide, horrified eyes. The moment was broken as the infant wailed again, and Ajax, coming to terms with Eurylochus’s apparent bout of mutiny, glanced down.

“…sir – is, is that a child?”

“Why yes, yes it is,” Eurylochus deadpanned. “Whatever gave it away?”

“The screaming, for one,” Ajax leaned towards him, trying to get a better look at the infant. Eurylochus didn’t bother trying to stop him, and just kept walking. “Where did it come from?”

“Not a clue.”

“How can you not know?”

“Well it’s not like it’s mine,” Eurylochus shot the man beside him an incredulous look, and Ajax threw his hands up in surrender. “The Captain just handed him off to me before he left.”

The child wailed again, long and drawn out, and Eurylochus rocked it awkwardly. Was it hungry? Probably, Telemachus had certainly been in constant need of milk. Which, on a ship, there was none of. How had it survived this long?

“Uh, sir?”

“Yes, Ajax.”

“Do, uh, do you need some help, there?”

Oh thank the gods–

Eurylochus whirled towards the younger man, practically shoving the infant at him. “Please, I don’t know why it won’t stop crying–”

Ajax laughed, a little awkwardly, but graciously accepted the screaming bundle. Eurylochus continued to lead the way back to Odysseus’s cabin; hopefully they’d be able to find whatever his friends had been feeding the little hellion with, or something of the likes.

“Err, are we allowed in here?” Ajax hesitated in the doorway. The child had started to run out of energy again it seemed, but it was definitely still complaining.

“He dumped a child on me with no explanation,” Eurylochus huffed grumpily. “He can deal with it.”

Slowly, Ajax crept inside. The child, held much more securely in the young man’s arms than in Eurylochus’s own, finally quieted, apparently much happier simply being back in the room. Maybe it had been cold?

“Sir,” Ajax handed the infant back to Eurylochus, who had no choice but to accept. “If I may, I’d suggest you talk to the Captain about brining the kid out during the day, some. I think he’s afraid of the sky.”

“That I will do, Ajax, that I will do.” Holding the child in the crook of one arm, Eurylochus turned to scan the room. The kid still didn’t seem particularly happy, glaring up at him and kicking its weak little feet, but at least it’d stopped screaming. “Thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem, sir!” Eurylochus could hear the smile in the young man’s voice. “Should I tell the crew that there’s nothing to worry about?”

Well, he hadn’t been planning to keep the kid a secret, anyways.

“That would be a good idea, please. I’m going to see if I can find something the kid can eat – let me know when Polites and the Captain return.”

“Yes sir,” Ajax agreed, and hurried back out of the room. Eurylochus directed his attention to a chest, one tucked away in the corner of the room. He wished there were a crib, somewhere, so he could put the child down, but settled for holding it in one arm as he used to other to rummage through Odysseus’s things.

The child kicked him again, disapproving. It didn’t seem to like him very much.

Well. Eurylochus glanced down at the child, and the child glared back up at him. It would just have to deal with him, and him it. Just until sunrise.

Just until sunrise.

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Whistling Thorn is part of an au @hahahaghosty and I are working on! TECHNICALLY it’s not the first installment, but it IS near the beginning lol, so special thanks to them for helping out w this fic!

also also, I know that lil Ajax is not actually a teenager. However, I have beaten cannon to a pulp with a sledgehammer, stuck the goop into the blender to smoosh it up even more, and then used it as fertilizer for my dying plants. Cannon doesn’t exist anymore. let it go.

Keep an eye out for more Flower AU :D

#flower au #the odyssey #epic the musical #odysseus #polites #(although theyre only really mentioned-)#eurylochus #astyanax #telemachus #(also only mentioned)#fic #fanfic #writing #my writing #wowie this is finally done!#hope whoever reads this enjoys :)#theres some context here that's (hopefully) coming in the future-#sorry haha

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vanhelsingapologist · 1 year

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Hey so tell me about Rudolph van Richten. Do you excuse his war crimes?

The Van Richten Conundrum

5e Van Richten is a mess. Let me monologue.

SPOILERS?? FOR VAN RICHTEN??

I think everyone kind of knows that, but I'm gonna say it anyway. He's unbearably racist, he's unhelpful, and he's overall difficult to work with if you play him as written. That's why we have older Ravenloft Van Richten, a character you can inject a little more nuance into.

I know a common interpretation is to nix his prejudice entirely, and honestly? Yeah. I think that's fine. In fact, I think it could make it a more comfortable experience for everyone involved.

However, for familial and heritage reasons, my DM went to me and asked me how I wanted to handle it. They laid out the whole thing (tiger, Ez's family, backstory) and let me decide what I wanted to do.

I decided to read the guides. They detailed a man who was turned to vicious hate because of the loss of his family. It wasn't righteous. It was ugly, even though he believed otherwise. You could see the path, and it didn't make it better. It made it tragic and awful. And then Van Richten's Guide to the Vistani came, and he started to change and learn. He started to feel shame and realized the cycle would continue. He disinherits his previous beliefs and tries to make restitution. I couldn't figure out why 5e, in an effort to clean things up, somehow made him worse when in the original material, he was, for lack of a better word, "recovering" by the time Curse of Strahd would be rolling around.

(Do I recommend Van Richten's Guide to the Vistani personally? NO. Definitely not. I think a lot of stuff in there is awful in ways that are completely, hilariously unintentional. Read it, by all means, and enjoy the story but I wouldn't touch some of that wording with a 5-foot pole.)

I told my DM it was important to me that he had once held those prejudices but that he was at the same place he was at the end of his guide. Tiger was changed to hunt vampires. No weird head in the trunk. Healing and learning were things I preferred to see, and honestly, in our group, I was glad my DM checked my comfort level and willingness to make that call. It made our story a lot richer. I love escapist fantasy, but I'm glad we elected for that approach with Van Richten, because...

I think Strahd (as a module) asks about redeemability a lot.

Mods like the Interactive Tome, I can imagine, likely expand on this. We asked the question "do your past actions make who you are now? Have you done enough to deserve absolution?" a LOT. That was the game we wanted to play. "Who do you become despite who you were?" We asked this again and again. This won't be the same answer for every party. Some people don't want to engage with that, and that's completely valid and fine.

Rudolph van Richten, against all odds, became one of my favorite characters in DnD.

I'll try and give an even longer answer sometime to profile the character my DM played. But this was about the crimes.

Anyway, so, I don't forgive his crimes. You deserve, Van Richten! But I do think they were important in our game. Long, long answer.

#curse of strahd #dr rudolph van richten #rudolph van richten #half answer #sorry haha #we also changed a ton about Ez's family because holy fuck. holy fuck.#but that's another post

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