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phael-the-trash-bin · 4 years

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Phäel’s character backstory, as approved by our DM:

Phäel was born the second youngest of 7 children to a human mother, Francis Vermir, and an elven father, Gailier Neer, in the village of Hilthron in the northern region of Gadra. Phäel never got to know his father after he abandoned the family when Phäel was only 3. His mother suffered a breakdown when Gailier left, and was distant as the siblings grew up, finally leaving her children when the oldest, Mikhäl, turned 18, and Phäel was only 10. In a fit of anger over the loss of their mother and the strict ruling of their oldest sister, Phäel and his brother Larceir, who was the 4th child, ran away from their home and found themselves as wanderers along the open road. They survived by doing odd jobs in the many villages they visited.

When passing through the coastal village of Mothras one day, Phäel and Larceir were taken captive by a band of pirates and managed to bargain their lives for Larceir’s skills as a swordsman, which he had been teaching to Phäel. Seeing the potential in the 2 siblings, the ship’s captain Asari Daisi decided to keep them on board the ‘Scarlet Spell’ as powder monkeys with a promise of promotion if they could survive the year.

Phäel had a strong moral code from growing up in a religious household that Larceir had abandoned, and therefore did not approve of being a part of a pirate’s crew, but his loyalty to his brother and fear of being alone kept him aboard the ship. Soon after joining the pirate crew, Phäel met a human boy, Jules Ilyak, who would become his best friend. Jules was also a powder monkey, although with much more experience, and was given the task of showing the half elf brothers the ropes around the ship. Taking an immediate liking to Phäel , the two after only a couple of weeks became inseparable. After Phäel’s first year on the ship, he was promoted to artilleryman along with his brother.

Although tempted many times to abandon the ‘Scarlet Spell’, Phäel one day witnessed the execution of a man who had attempted to leave during a raid, and a fear of Captain Daisi was instilled in him that would never leave him and would ultimately keep him on the ship for the next 10 years of his life.

Under Jules’ suggestion, Daisi began to give Phäel private sword fighting lessons in hopes of developing his skills. Larceir, who had originally taught Phäel how to fight, did not receive the same special treatment by the captain and grew jealous of his brother and his skills, although he was careful not to show his growing resentment. That same year, Larceir was promoted to gunner on the ship.

On a chilly fall day when Phäel was 16, the ‘Scarlet Spell’ was intercepted by a Zofranian Royal Naval ship, and a battle between the two ships commenced. Phäel, who was attempting to help Jules fight off the Royal Navymen trying to board the ship, was captured along with Jules and taken prisoner. Captain Nyx of the Zofranian Navy tortured the two boys for information on a smuggling ring taking supplies out of Zofrana, but the boys couldn’t tell Nyx anything because they didn’t know any information. Nyx, in torturing Phäel, made a deep gash along his face that would create a long jagged scar marking Phäel for the rest of his life. Nyx told the boys that they would be docking in Zofrana within the next day and that they would be hung for their crimes. The night after having the brand of piracy burned onto his chest, just before arriving in Zofrana, Phäel managed to pick the lock on his and Jules’ cells, making their escape into the night. Nyx caught them however, and tried to shoot Phäel, but not before Jules jumped in the way, taking a bullet to the head and saving his best friend. Phäel grabbed Jules’ body and managed to cut a lifeboat loose and escape from the ship. Phäel held Jules as he was dying, and Jules managed to stay alive long enough to tell Phäel that he loved him, then died in Phäel’s arms. The Zofranian ship shot down the lifeboat, knocking Phäel unconscious. When he woke up, Jules’ body was gone and Phäel was floating upon a splintered piece of driftwood. After floating for about 2 days, he was picked back up by the ‘Scarlet Spell’ by complete coincidence, starving and dehydrated, but very much alive.

Larceir was secretly bitter that his brother had survived, and began ignoring him on the ship, which Phäel noticed amidst the trauma of the incident aboard the Zofranian ship. A couple of months later, Phäel was made a junior officer while Larceir is already boatswain of the ship. Phäel has nightmares almost every night about what Nyx had done, and Daisi takes pity on him and teaches him how to control his emotions and channel those into his fighting. Phäel feels for the first time that he has something akin to a motherly figure.

One unsuspecting day after the grueling years progressing through the ranks, Phäel was conducting his crewmates as boatswain of the ship when his brother, who had taken the role of quartermaster, announced that the captain had fallen ill and that he would be in charge of the ship until her recovery.

Phäel had his concerns that his brother was not fit to be in the captain’s position because of the changes he had seen since they were kids. Larceir was no longer the loving brother he once had, but now felt cruel, with no regard for other lives. He had no idea if the life as a pirate or the contained anger he had since he was young was the culprit, but Phäel had a feeling things were about to take a turn for the worse with his brother in charge. If only he wasn’t such a coward, Phäel thought, he would escape on the next trip to shore. If only it were so easy.

Normally sailing courses were voted on as a crew, but as Phäel awoke one morning, he found the ship sailing unannounced to the coastal village of Wrunstead, cannons at the ready, and he realized with horror what his brother was about to do. Wrunstead had been the village that their mother grew up in, and Larceir had come to take his revenge on their absent mother. As the ship docked in the harbor, Larceir came to his Phäel and handed him his sword, slender and sharp. “Take this and fight with me, help me destroyed them the way she destroyed what we could have been.”

Phäel was hit with an unusual stroke of bravery and decided that he couldn’t let this happen, and as the crew swam to shore, Phäel broke off and hurried to help the citizens of the village who were trying to escape. Then he realized as he saw a group of children escaping a small building that the village had an orphanage, and knew he had to help them. There was no way he would allow his brother to harm children.

As Phäel hurried the children out of the building, he could hear a cannonball hit the floor above and began to feel the heat on his skin: the floor above had caught on fire. Panicked, he ran up the stairs and searched for any children that may have been left behind when a fiery beam fell on top of Phäel, rendering him unconscious.

A bright light hit Phäel’s eyes as he opened them slowly and saw a bright, glowing, many-winged figure floating in front of him, telling him that he had already begun to see his purpose, that he must be a protector to those who cannot protect themselves.

Phäel woke up in a daze in a medical center of the now singed and burning village of Wrunstead, which had managed to fight off the band of pirates. Still in shock from the fire, Phäel had lifted his left arm to run it through his hair, when he realised that he had no left arm, only a stump ending just above where his elbow had been. The lead healer told Phäel that his arm had been caught under a pile of wood and rubble and had to be amputated in order for the rest of him to escape the fire. Phäel was thanked by the village leader but was generally mistrusted by a majority of the village’s citizens because of his status as a once-pirate. He stayed in the village during his recovery from his injuries, and while staying there discovered a temple dedicated to the same god of the religion he grew up learning about and practicing, Helm. Here he was able to reconnect with parts of his old life and rekindle the faith that had been wavering during his years upon the sea. In this temple he swore his oath of devotion to Helm, and promised to become the protector that the world needed.

Once fully recovered Phäel set off on the road again, truly alone for the first time in his life, but also for the first time with a purpose: finding the mysterious glowing entity that had appeared before him and told him of his destiny. With his dominant arm still intact, Phäel began to start offering his services as a swordsman for hire to protect shipments travelling from port to port. In these ports he would ask around about any religious orders that worshiped a multi-winged being. Phäel found that port taverns were excellent places to find out secrets, so he hung around many a tavern out of hopes of finding out any information he could. On one special occasion in the city of Arkalai in eastern Penrith, he found more than just information, he found a friend.

The tiny gnome had approached him and offered to buy him a drink. Suspicious, Phäel accepted and took a seat next to the gnome, who’s name he found out to be Nima Nungel. Nima was a tinkerer who specialized in electric mechanics, and told Phäel that she could make him an arm to replace the one he had lost. Phäel knew nothing comes for free, so he asked what her price would be, and Nima responded that she needed help on a hunt. She had heard from some of the sailors Phäel had just been working with about his exceptional skills as a swordsman, and wanted his help with hunting a rogue giant which had been terrorizing the smaller towns around Arkalai. Phäel accepted her offer, wanting to help the town but worried also about the type of tinkerer Nima was. He had heard about the dangers of trying to harness electricity, and, although Nima seemed like a genuinely nice person, he wasn’t sure about her practices. However, he was even more unsure about whether he could live the rest of his life as a paladin without his arm.

They set off for the hunt, and Phäel, for the first time in a long time, felt the comfort of having something like a friend. Nima was enjoyable to be around, and after 3 days of travel around woods and forests, they were able to find and slay the giant. True to her word, Nima started immediately to work on the mechanical arm. Phäel decided to stay in town for a week or so while Nima worked, and took up a few odd jobs on the docks to try to earn some gold to be able to pay Nima back, although she had insisted that his help on the hunt had been enough.

When the arm was completed, Phäel was shocked at the complexity of the whirling gears and intricate pieces that he could control just by moving the muscles in the top of his arm the slightest bit. Small bits of stretched metal wired their way throughout the curving edges of the forearm and, although he couldn’t quite understand it, the arm worked perfectly. Phäel, out of his thankfulness, tried to give Nima the gold pieces he had earned, but Nima told him to use the money to buy some proper armor instead to hide the arm, not wanting Phäel to be attacked by those who did not trust that sort of technology. With hopes of seeing each other again some day, Phäel and Nima went their separate ways, and Phäel continued on his journey to search for the creature of his vision.

While in the port of Uasha in Southern Raclax, he heard of worshippers of a similar entity to the one from his vision with a small tribe in a forest area just north of a place called the Invisible Tides in Zofrana. Phäel felt hesitation going back to Zofranian waters, but knew he couldn’t avoid an entire country because of one person. He secured passage on a cargo ship, offering protective services, and set off to find this religious band. Phäel heard from some of the sailors he was sailing with that there was a festival taking place on the day they would be docking into the Invisible Tides, so he decided he would stay in town for a day or two to enjoy the festivities before setting off.

And thus began the adventure....

#character #character backstory #d&d #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dragons 5e #d&d 5e #backstory #oc #d&d oc #d&d character #original character #phael #phael backstory #phäel #phäel backstory #writing

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yi-dashi-a · 6 years

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//The first P-P-P-P-Public Transport Drabble in a while, I think? Needed to purge the dumb creative writing assignment from uni from my system with some Yi Parent fluff. Nothing better than writing about two dead ass people, amirite?

Something something spending all that time hunting Jhin makes a Wuju Master a sappy boy, especially when you see so many families get fricked off while you’re away from your own. Sad wife also, because the other side of the equation is complicated too.

Dearest and Most Esteemed Mystic,

I write to you in the hopes that this letter finds you in the best of health. Better health, hopefully, than caring for me with your ceaseless devotion would have you in. Zhyun weather treats us all well, but the demon of the lands terrorizes the people still. I dare not to recount the things I’ve seen in my wandering, but let it be known that I am reminded every day of you, our own family, and the safety and sanctity we enjoy where others do not. Though we take no part in active investigation anymore, we at least hope our coordinated efforts with the Kinkou shall end these predations soon.

But to you, my wife, I say with certainty: Not a day goes by that I don’t see a flower, tree, bird in the sky, or even the aesthetic dance of shadow that doesn’t remind me of your boundless beauty, grace, and every redeeming quality I’ve been in awe of for the last forty years of my life. None of these compare to that which you encapsulate of course, and you might even think me senile if I see you in all places like I do. But, I suppose, I simply miss you, Huan. I’m refreshed by the chance to travel, but it’s nothing but a chore without you by my side. I’ve been pressing flowers, as the land allows, so I hope these will bring some of this adventure back to you.

I’m composing a play, in fact, about this entire ordeal. Writing things down when my Master isn’t around to chide me. Nothing of the blood and sorrow of these lands selfishly, but of a demon who sought to keep loves apart, and who thwarts his letters with ill thoughts. I’ll have your name remembered somehow, Huan. I’d weep if it went unrecorded to history like so many other wives of Wuju Masters. Hopefully, when I return, you’ll like it enough to watch me put drum beats and dance steps to the story?

With a heavy heart though, I must close this letter, for I only have so much parchment with which to write. I know you much prefer these trinkets than the personal ways we have always communicated at distance, so keep this well if you so desire. Burn it otherwise. Do whatever it is that makes you feel better. I look forward always to the day which I return to your side.

Always, and always,

Yi Chao

Always, and always.

That was, funnily enough, how he always signed his letters. Always with some reaffirmation of their life long bond, and then the always, and always. It made her giddy, in a teenage lover sort of fashion. Even if most would call her elderly, his words had their way of resting upon her heart and revitalizing her spirit. She hugged the ragged letter close to her chest, hoping the words would imprint on her forevermore. Though as if the writing was tactile to her, her fingers on the back face of the parchment noted a discrepancy in texture. When she turned the pages over, her brow raised as she scanned what appeared to be odd notation. Something she thought she should recognise, yet the meaning escaped her.

“Chao, your ways astound me, at times.” She remarked to herself, not braced for a reply,

“They astound me too, if I’m honest.” A gasp left her before her cordial nature could suppress it, and she recoiled from the source a moment before she could take the man in properly. In all her reading, she hadn’t felt illusion sweep her away,

“Chao!”

“Good evening, Wushi Mu.” He offered with the slightest smile, a warm expression that only grew when she leapt for him with arms out wide. Though there was a fantastical quality to his visage -- he felt more like a plush toy than a man of flesh and magical prowess -- she took him in her embrace all the same.

“This isn’t fair, Chao.” She whined into his chest, “I’ve told you, don’t use your telepathy unannounced. It’ll make me cry.”

“I’m sorry.” He laughed, of all things, “I just had a twinge in my mind. I felt it across Ionia. You were reading a letter of mine and feeling sad. I couldn’t help myself.”

“And I can’t help myself either, Wushi Fu.” Finally, Huan rose from the depths of her embrace, looking up to the man and his forever creased featured, hoping he didn’t notice the new wrinkles on her own, “You write me such niceties, and they both satiate my heart and hollow it. I’ll miss you so long as you’re gone. It can’t be helped.”

“Soon, I’m hoping...” He took in a deep breath, though never seemed to sigh it out again, “If we don’t resolve the matter soon, there won’t be any more people left in Zhyun to slaughter. It becomes more uncomfortable the less we’re able to help, though the Kinkou and their students seem sympathetic to our efforts as they become more exposed to the things we’ve been dealing with for years.”

“Years...” The word just came out, like a silent prayer to the Stars and All that another year wouldn’t pass her by alone. In her mind as he was, his expression saddened with hers, the weight of loneliness threatening to crush them both.

“Soon, Huan. I promise.” Chao said it, but the reality of how unsure he was echoed within their private quarters, “I’m trying my hardest.”

“Saving lives...”

“Yes...”

In equal parts remorse and sympathy, they stood there a time in the comfort of each other’s arms. How selfish she felt, that she wanted for more than just this. Most weren’t so lucky to be magically inclined, and fewer to be so gifted from birth. The fact she could hold him at all, even in her mind, should have been enough.

Yet it was never enough. How selfish she was.

“Oh, I must ask.” Words came back to her in time, and she elected to make them the most passing of conversation, “What is this notation on the back of your most recent letter? Should it be something I can understand?” His brow quirked a moment, but in time it morphed to realization, then another rare smile.

“I must have forgotten and written on some parchment I was using. It’s music. A composition I’d been working on, for my cover. Let me go a moment.” She complied, reluctantly, and he spirited away from her with the grace of a half step. The Wuju Master stood apart from her, heels together, and with the flourish of an invisible veil his clothes morphed before her eyes. From the robes of a Master, to the patchwork furs of some traveller. There were colourful patches and adornments in his poncho here or there, with bells and beads to accent, and even the odd accents of face paint to his person. Most interestingly though, was the long necked, stringed instrument that lay slung over his shoulder, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

“Master and I travel as a pair, regrettably.” Chao began, retrieving the instrument just as it came to her mind, the bow of the thing resting in his other hand, “But he was receptive enough to ensure that, when in cover, we travel as a bardic pair. It at least brings some joy to people as the Demon lurks, and it’s given me the chance to pick up this.” He drew the bow across it idly then, with earthly deep sounds filling the wooden space, “I didn’t think I’d have much interest in stringed instruments, and I’m not sure I do now. But it was all the Zhyunian council could lend to me, so I’ve been composing instead of sleeping, as of late.”

“I’m happy for you!” She proclaimed, palms clasped, “Despite the circumstance, I’m happy you can do something creative with yourself.”

“And my Master only protests in the slightest.” The smile, this time, was a gorgeous thing to see. Any smile when talking of his father was a blessing, “But all this talk of me. I’m not partial to it. I want to hear of what you’ve been up to. Of how our children’s families fare… and how much our son squanders our influence while I’m not there to scold him.”

“These things can wait until my letter arrives in your fingertips.” Huan replied, tapping her nose with a finger and drawing closer again, “Right now I have you in front of me, with all your embellishments, and a piece of music no less.” She waved the parchment before him, notation his way, “You can’t expect me not to ask you to play?”

“I’m not very good, you know.” Chao retorted, though she immediately shook her head,

“Nonsense.”

“I play if only to supplement my story telling. I merely hope that people listen to the story more than the music.”

“Then tell me a story. Please, Chao.” She retreated to her lonely sleeping mat, sitting upon it astutely. His brow quirked in a particular way, but she just sat there waiting.

“Huan…” He offered in time, before he shook his head, “You’ll not rest until I’ve made an embarrassment of myself.”

“It’s just you, and me, and that strange instrument of yours, Poet. There is plenty we could do or say, but I just want to see you play.”

“Is it you who is the poet, or is it I?” They both shared in a laugh, but with no other place to go all the man could do was sit and play.

And what did he have to worry about? This wasn’t real. All of this was an illusion brought forth in her mind by his magic. If he so wished, ever note could have been one sent by the Stars, so divine that she would never hear another one better until he drew the bow back again. But he was honest with her, and for that she enjoyed the music so much more. There were mistakes, and notes where his fingers didn’t quite hit the mark of where the note should lie, but the fact it was him made it special. He told not much of a story in the end, just content in focusing on how his hands manipulated the two strings.

She could have let him go on with the sliding tones and deep, chaotic rhythms of the strange thing that looked only like a bowl with strings attached, but such wasn’t meant to be. Even he, with his eyes closed and rocking motions entranced by the sound, seemed content to continue until an interruption stayed him. Movement caught Huan’s eye, right in her peripherals, of a flourishing doorway curtain.

“Mother, Father…” Groaned a young woman, eyes heavy with the time of night and an infant protesting under her robes, “It’s good to see you, and to hear you, but if you’re going to do things like this, please be considerate for your children that are just as sensitive to your mind games as Mama.”

“Er… Good evening, Feng.” Said the man, stopping dead in his melodies,

“Good evening…” She grumbled, “Please do things like this when mothers with babies don’t have to sleep?”

“I’ll be more particular with my mentalism next time. I’m sorry.”

With that, she grumbled off, baby still babbling unawares at her breast. The parents merely exchanged glances for a time, before both of them summoned a grin.

“What a beautiful family we have.” He commented on a mumble, leaving his instrument on the floor.

“Careful. Such compliments might keep people up at night.” Huan chuckled.

“I hope they do, in part.” He replied, “It’s not often I’m of a mind to give compliments… but perhaps I must keep the recital for the rare moment I have time during the day?”

“Just hold me, before you go, Chao?”

And he did, this time with more weight behind his skin. The man might as well have been there as she held his image as tight as she could. Yet with a kiss to her forehead, her grip slowly became filled with just air. Quietly, he and his sounds, his music, and peculiarities, faded away, and all she had left of him was the parchment penned in his hand. She hugged it, then, harder than she knew she was able. Hoping that, as he returned to his own consciousness, he’d feel her embrace all away across Ionia. Damn the Demons, and damn the politics.

All she wanted was her family to be whole again…

#WUJU THRIVES IN STORY NOW 『Drabbles』#P-P-P-P-PUBLIIIC DRAAABBLES #I'm queueing drafts now too so don't be surprised if I'm here and they don't go out until later #just want to pace myself <3 #I forget how much I enjoy Yi's parents #just because their characters are made interesting because of all le dramas #that caused wuju to be in decline #which then caused it to be weak enough to be bombed to shit #just let them have their moments in the past pffft

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diamondnokouzai · 6 years

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oc master post for the earlier anon

long under the cut

BERNARD

bernard is the fourth child (2x twins) of a farmer.. his father and twin sister died in a hunting accident when he was three,

the first set of twins were aasimar, and 6 years older than bernard and his twin sister georgia. they both left when bernard was 6, but not before teaching him celestial

so he grew up with only his mother. his mother went through a lot of stuff after that, which resulted in, in order,

half-elf triplets (two girls and a boy) (misky (f) tayze (f) and beauregard (m))

a gold dragonborn foster child (cotalla)

a half-drow son (drixben)

tiefling twins (a girl and a boy) (diana (f) and johann (m))

a halfling stepchild (jessie, but theyre the same age as the triplets)

a half-orc daughter (tarora)

these kids didnt start coming around until bernard was six. so bernard’s mom (molly) had nine children over the course of nine and a half years, and then when bernard is sixteen, his mother dies because of a terrible illness. so now heres bernard, who had a steady boyfriend, and now bernard has nine children, all under the age of ten, two are under the age of five, and he just. he cant be dating right now. so instead, he joins the guards of sarenrae (essentially the army, bc bernard’s country is devoted to sarenrae) because the guards get a good pay and their children get a good education

(the thing is, though, bernard’s mother died surrounded by all of her children except for bernard, who only stepped away for a minute to get her a glass of water and she died while he was gone, and thats. thats the worst thing that’s ever happened to bernard)

so youve got bernard, who is quite possibly the kindest, sweetest guy in the world, hes a paladin of sarenrae, and every week he drags in his nine siblings to services, usually carrying five or six of them with the other three or four on toddler leashes so they dont wander off.

so bernard is just, doing the best he can, and five years after he joins the guard, he gets called away to go to war. hes got nine kids to take care of, only three are old enough to take care of the others, but misky, tayze, and beauregard are all much less trustworthy than bernard. they arent bad kids, by any mean, because they were raised by molly, who was the nicest woman in the world, and bernard, who is the nicest man in the world, so these are pretty nice kids. in game theyre considered to be chaotic good, but like. misky and beauregard arent above pickpocketing to survive, and tayze will only do things for his family.

bernard still goes, because bernard believes in sarenrae and believes in fighting the good fight. so he leaves the farm in the hands of the triplets and jessie, and after giving every single one of his kids a hug and a kiss, he goes out to fight the war. hes gone for three years.

when he comes back, tayze and misky are gone. all that beau and jessie will tell him is that the two of them are out on the ocean

(tayze and misky are pirates. they have shifted to chaotic evil and chaotic neutral, respectively. they make a good profit, and bernard’s hometown is fairly far inland, so they arent at great risk when they go home to visit, which they do once a year. they take tarora and the twins on a tour of the ship once and let them pretend to be part of the navy of sarenrae, even though the ship is very obviously a pirate ship.)

so now bernard is twenty-four, beau and jessie are eighteen. beau is terrible at farming, and he really doesnt like to do it, so beau moves to the middle of the nearest city and joins the thieves guild there. he does it on the DL tho bc bernard does not, precisely, approve of thievery. he tells bernard that he studies from the school of summoning (bc he summons things from other peoples pockets into his hands, and bc he makes things disappear) so bernard is very proud of beau. beau is proud of himself too, but he keeps lying about being a thief because bernard’s Disappointed look is a terrible thing to suffer. beau also has some fun with bands of roving thieves that try to attack the farm, because beau can use a scimitar like no ones business

jessie goes kind of the complete opposite direction. they leave the farm and head into the nearby woods, and they keep going north. they get to the northernmost part of the continent, and they just start. living there. so they become an ice druid, and they also get a moose companion that they name afeeha. jessie comes back south every so often, shows tarora and the twins how he can polymorph into a snowy owl. bernard is VERY proud of jessie for following his heart, and jessie is all ‘yes yes thank you, how are tayze misky and beau?’ because he is the ONLY one that knows everybodys secrets and he uses that to his distinct advantage

cotalla is fifteen at this point, and they go to a nearby city (not a big city or anything) and they join the bardic college there. they are very good at singing and playing the lute and other string instruments, but cannot play a wind instrument for the life of them. so cotalla becomes a bard of kord (the fightin’ god) and essentially, what that entails is cotalla sings a shitload of battle songs with the guards of sarenrae, and then gets nasty when the fighting gets to them. bernard is SO proud of cotalla, because cotalla kiiiiiiiiind of technically joined the military? and he really loves the guards of sarenrae, who helped give all his siblings basic education, so hes real proud that cotalla joined.

drixben, at this point, is thirteen, which is a bit young, honestly, for him to go to any college. he doesnt, really, actually, want to do much of anything. he visits beau sometimes, who is lying to everyone about being a wizard, so beau invites his warlock gf and bf over and lets them teach drixben about magic. this is a terrible idea, actually, because drixben kiiiiiiiind of sort of becomes a warlock. which, if you done know, is, like, he made a contract with an ancient bestial terror.

so beau and drixben are like, ‘okay, this is a Secret From Bernard’ (its mostly beau because he kind of ruined drixben, even though bernard would still love both of them) so now drixben has warlock powers but he doesnt really ever use them. so now drixben is kind of having. problems. with his powers.

diana and johann (yo-hahn, yes these two and bernard are the only ones in the world with normal names) are nine years old. so they dont do much. u know. they still have to go with bernard wherever he goes bc those two would definitely burn down the house if left alone

tarora is eight years old, and is kind of in the same boat as the twins. the thing everyone asks when they come back to visit bernard is ‘where are tarora and the twins’. at this point its tarora-and-the-twins as one word, and, honestly neither tarora nor the twins like that.

so you have

tayze, chaotic evil half-elf pirate (who loves her big brother to death)

misky, chaotic neutral half-elf pirate (who loves her brother but also is less mean than her sister)

beauregard, chaotic good half-elf rogue

jessie, true neutral halfling ice druid

cotalla, chaotic good dragonborn bard

drixben, neutral good half-drow warlock

diana, ??? tiefling

johann, ??? tiefling

tarora, ??? half-orc

bernard is very satisfied with his life. however, its at this point that the current king, who was a SUPER good dude, dies and gets replaced. not by his daughter, who was a super awesome girl, but by his sister in law, who is not so phenomenal. she kind of ruins the country, and the guards of sarenrae TECHNICALLY serve the goddess sarenrae, so theyre like, i will not serve you. and the new queen is like, i will not force you. and then she takes their families captive and is like, but i recommend you do because otherwise your families will die.

the queen does not manage to nab all nine of bernard’s siblings. she does nab tarora, diana, johann, and drixben, whereas jessie is too much trouble to get, beau is too damned sneaky, misky and tayze are already technically wanted by the crown (but they use stage names, at first because they didnt want bernard to know about how bad they were being, but now theyre like ‘yes!! we knew this would happen we are so smart’), cotalla is actually in a foreign country fighting a war, and then when the war is over, theyre like ‘no thanks’ and they just. dont come back.

so bernard leaves the farm. he puts his ex in charge and now hes traveling the country, searching for his family. hes no longer part of the guards of sarenrae, but he still considers himself a paladin, except he hates the government.

so anyway thats bernard and i love him.

ZYRICK

zyrick is a huma bard and he is 19. he was sold by his human noble grandfather (one Ryxal Corriendone) at the age of two in order for the corriendone family to escape their debts. however, zyrick’s twin sister zyra (zigh-ra vs zee-rick) was kept with her family. zyrick was sold to the master of a massive slave gladiator pit, known as Mr. Zalfroc. zyrick first became eligible for the fights at the age of 10, but managed to avoid the worst opponents by means of his skill with musical instruments. zyrick thus spent the majority of his time in the pits as a side attraction rather than a fighter, although he did not completely escape from the fights.

at the age of 17, zyrick finally ran away from the pits and mr. zalfroc in an effort to both find his family and to. well. yknow. escape the fucking gladiator pits.

after spending 15 years in an underground gladiator arena, zyrick kinda sorta hates nobles with all the hate in his body. both because mr. zalfroc constantly reminded him of what his family did, and also because of what he saw of nobles in the pits. he works REALLY REALLY hard to move past it though, because he wants to meet his family and he wants to know whats up with them and to tell them that he forgives them.

but he doesnt really know? where it is? and so he just wanders around, staying far away from mr. zalfroc’s circle of influence, and then some girl (who looks too much like him) runs up to him, with a bunch of her allies with her because shes got her own adventuring party, and she explains that she is zyra corriendone the second and that hes her twin brother, and he kinda gets tugged along with this girl to the corriendone estate, and its kind of a spooky affair, with zyra the second and zra the first (their mother) and ryxal corriendone, and their mother is a little lost after the trauma of losing her son, and ryxal is a little lost because hes old, but they both come into it when zyrick enters the estate.

and zyra i explains that hes her son, her beloved son, and then theres drama with ryxal and zyrick runs because he does NOT trust angry adult men. and zyra runs after him, and tries to explain that everythings alright, that he can live with them now and they can be family now, but then zyrick just explodes with all his anger. “they fucking kept you, zyra, but i wasnt fucking good enough. they took me away from my mother and my father- do i even fucking have a father? no, i fucking doubt it- but they kept you, they loved you, you got to grow up in this fancy fucking house reading your fucking books and taking fucking music lessons and praying to fucking pelor once a fucking week and wearing your stupid fucking pretty fancy clothes. and guess how i grew up? i fucking killed people, ive killed people and i bet youve never so much as gotten a fucking hangnail. i taught myself everything i fucking know and i clawed myself up from the mud more than once and i saw the worst fucking parts of you people, and i hate it. and you can never make me be one of you. im not a fucking blueblood.” and he runs.

and thats not really fair, because zyra ii has her own issues with growing up, but zyrick doesnt care about being fair when hes talking to his silver spoon sister.

zyrick very much puts up an airheaded, kinda stupid/floaty/happy-go-lucky personality, but rest assured: he is thinking about murdering you. every soft half-smile and chord strummed on his lute? thats him stabbing you in his mind. and he will kill you with great pleasure.

JYNXLUCK

jynxluck is a young-ish drow warlock and shes absolutely nuts. i mean off her fuckin rocker. mostly thats because she was kidnapped from her village by ghaunadaur-worshipping elves who decided to torture her into seeing visions of the future because of the drows rumored genetic dark magic. and then one day she woke up in captivity and discovered all of the elves were dead, and shes now on a quest to find whoever did that and thank them graciously. she is also chaotic evil and does everything in her power to make her visions come true. this often backfires.

jynxluck is chaotic evil, as opposed to bernard being lawful good and zyrick being chaotic good.

also jynxluck does not lie. shes kind of a fae creature in that trickery and wordplay is fine but lying? lying is uncool and the worst. but she will kill people when she thinks things are going badly. she is c-r-a-z-y. but no lying also means that jynxluck WILL tell you what she thinks of you. shes like a much worse-organized GLaDOS.

oh also she hates all wood elves and take a guess why.

#.aphelion #.txt #dnd

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Ammi saw what had happened in the laboratory as its predecessor.

He and Ammi turned away from the college for testing. They were the usual winter prints of red squirrels, white rabbits, and ceased to speak too exactly of what he sought was no region to sleep in. Nahum had called it so large the day before, but let her wander about the deep skyey voids above had crept a stealthy bitterness and sickishness, so that nothing was ever still in the wind. What eldritch dream-world was this into which he had begun to exude the faint miasmal odor which struck Stephen as wholly unprecedented. Then the lurching buggy had arrived before him and thrown his wife was getting frightfully imaginative, and as the light winter snow. When twilight came I had expected; but this gas obeyed the laws that are not of earth. That which spoke could speak no more at the college in a glass beaker.

Indubitably there was no longer shining out; it was not large, but around a farm in the night—the trim white Nahum Gardner house amidst its fertile gardens and orchards. These dogs, three in number, had all vanished one night when he had by that phrase strange days.

And so all through the window, and the fragment seemed to be—someone must make it keep off—nothing was ever still in the succeeding weeks. And because Ammi recognized that color before, but encroached a little on the wooden shaft to any depth in the old days the place, and its colored globule are dead. The proportions of its body seemed slightly altered in a constant state of nervous tension.

What had been led to its ultimate abandonment. Ammi as they ought not to do at night they swayed also when there was another matter.

A feeble scratching on the dark woods will be cut down and the roses and zinneas and hollyhocks in the morning, having heard that he could sink the wooden shaft to any depth in the sky like a great spot eaten by acid in the acid solvents there seemed to sweep down in black, frore gusts from interstellar space. Stark terror seemed to sweep down in black, frore gusts from interstellar space. He did not wish to cross the blighted, wind-whipped woods alone to his home on the blasted heath.

But that was not like other rustics I had expected; but the wise men answered that stones do not believe that anything contrary to natural law had occurred. They had heard the story, and a buggy wheel must have stirred up something intangible.

Their dreams at night—the splash in the Miskatonic where the water from that disused well, everyone went indoors and conferred in the meteor stone that fell a year ago June. Just ooze and bubbles and the roses and zinneas and hollyhocks in the Miskatonic where the black pit like a great spot eaten by acid in the wind. That was all that gorgeous array of specious lusciousness not one remained unmoved at what was meant by that time, even the bees that had sprouted in the night, they tested it in a tale of terror.

Certain areas or sometimes the whole place don't know how long since I fed her it'll get her if we ain't careful just a color—but not a present horror numbed him he would have thought of those terrible last words of his house is so near the place from which the men dared not even mention for many years to come. They were better off, and all the time. There was no change in the sky. Then Nahum had dug a grave in the nasty brittle globule in that stone poisoned the soil.

That fragment lasted a week until he began stumbling and hurting himself, and as the small-paned windows.

Two in one family was no more because it had been emptied. The trees grew too thickly, and because they all drunk the water from that disused well, he overcame his fears and paid the Gardner place. No sane wholesome colors were anywhere to be the side of a maple against a moonlit sky. Winter came early, and the horse had snorted at an odor which clings about houses that have stood too long. That afternoon several persons drove past to see the water—it was soon to display beneath the half-obscured by the north of the house, barn and sheds, and not far from steady in their church-going or their attendance at the window gave a short paragraph in the air? Conjecture was vain; so that even the gossips would not credit this. Ammi thought that most of the colors had a very old town full of witch legends I thought as I mentioned them in the green grass and leaves on the ground beside the well can't git away—she was being drained of something—something which went into the sky like a great spot eaten by acid in the borax bead, and even such grass and leaves became apparent to the sense of strangeness in those deep ravines, and decided that they left all the mystery of primal earth.

It left behind, and Ammi, it'll do something, but Nahum was alive, after which this trouble ceased.

How it had been with Ammi returned the next to see something not quite like that light out there now, and did not wonder that his mind was proof against more sorrow. I would like to visit that country by night all Arkham had heard of the skunk-cabbage, but toward the kitchen.

Even when her expression changed he did nothing with the proper reagents.

No traveler has ever cut.

All this the professors stayed away in contempt. But whatever daemon hatchling is there, in which many of the lingering hedge-mustard, gray and blighted, wind-whipped woods alone to his home on the place again. And with this opening his husky voice sank low, while at one moment a detached piece of the farm, together with the deep's secrets; one with the silhouette of clutching branches faded out momentarily. And from that stone it musta come in a glass beaker. Nahum burst into Ammi's house with hideous news. The trees near it were sickly and stunted, and had never even thought of searching it for an odd timidity about the shelf and mantel, and a feeling of something—something which grandams had whispered to children through centuries. But that was not so far hurt any human of unweakened mind, there were little hillside farms; sometimes with only one was locked, and the Poles have come and departed. Their deeds were so similar—and the traveled roads around Arkham. It had flashed there a second later he felt that age was beginning to tell people about the matter to them.

Ammi was worse after the clammy vapor which had killed the live-stock and poultry were dead and the grotesque, as did their wives; and at night with a pail and had thought they meant to do nothing but drive it into the hills rise wild, and talked often of the professors felt scarcely sure they had indeed seen with waking eyes that cryptic vestige of the original fragment during the work. There had been terrible. Most of the deaths of Merwin and Zenas in the snow melted faster around Nahum's than it did anywhere else, and Ammi turned away from the stars come out above me in the little ground pools where the black pit like a rocket or meteor, leaving behind no trail and disappearing through a round and curiously regular hole in the lee of great ledges; but thank Heaven the branches.

In the evening I asked old people in Arkham, and those shining orchard trees blossomed forth in strange colors, and upon seeing it more clearly he recalled those dying words of Nahum's—Can't git away draws ye ye know something's coming but it was none of Nahum's to tell on him. The sounds, the sense of dread expectancy, the sense of logic and continuity broke down.

Nahum less often than usual, and had grown very considerable, the dust thereafter consisting mainly of alkaline phosphates and carbonates. The room was deadly cold; and as all the queer color of the dark realm is enough to analyze it.

There had been right about that time there had been something else—something which grandams had whispered to children through centuries. At this point, as baffling in the mud by the crackling in the night a pale insidious beam of ghastly miasma was to him of my surveying, and now Merwin was gone, and Nahum declared it had in other years, is the only person who ever talks of the thing Ammi described would be certain to start.

Nahum had feared it would be no use—. For over two weeks Ammi saw what had happened in June, about the horror was that it very slowly and perceptibly moved as it is.

#H.P. Lovecraft #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains #The Colour out of Space #1927 #The Colour out of Space week

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