#Exandria unlimited: Kymal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlling-writes · 2 years

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I Planned For... Well, Not This

The plan was to commit a heist of a lifetime. In the city of the corrupt, in the biggest casino. They each had their big part to play, even Cyrus. But you can only plan for so much. And Cyrus—he didn’t plan for most of his night out in Kymal.

Rating: T Contains: swearing, violence, some suggestive dialogue Words: 5400

Writing Masterlist

The plan was for Cyrus to find something explosive to help break the skydeck from the building. When his brother first told him the idea, it sounded perfectly achievable. In a city with a reputation for attracting the corrupt, how hard could it be to obtain some explosives? Between his charms and the bit of money he just won playing cards, this would be a piece of cake.

That’s what our dear, sweet himbo thought, anyway.

The market was easy enough to find. It was far grander than anyone made it out to be. Finding what they needed might take more time than Cyrus had thought… Time was ticking; he better get started.

He wove his way past the stalls. This wouldn’t be something so out in the open, would it? he wondered. He had no idea what explosives looked like or cost. Hopefully whatever venders he approached would be endeared by his doltishness and pity him instead of fleece him.

Cyrus picked a weapons stall and approached the seller. “Do you know where I could get something… explosive?” he asked and pantomimed an explosion.

The vendor—a burly dwarven woman with more gnarly, visible scars than Cyrus had years—gave him a once-over. He was sorely out of place. It didn’t help that his tone was so bright for someone asking for lethal. What the kid wanted them for when tensions were high, she didn’t dare ask. She let out a single, gruff laugh. “None here. Try an alchemist.”

“Oh, thank you.” He turned and started to leave, but stopped short. Whipping back around he asked, “Which way would one be?”

She raised a brow as she stared at him, dumbfounded. How had this boy not been eaten alive here yet? She sighed then threw him a bone, “Take a left out of here. Keep going until you see a florist. They’re a bit tucked to the right side, about an eight-minute walk down. Go in there and go straight out the back. The alley is rough,” she specified and eyed his nice outfit, “but it’s the only way to get to Zaphi’s. Go left down the alley but stick to the right wall. There is a split that’s easy to miss. Eventually you’ll exit into a small pocket. Zaphi’s shop is the only thing there. Say Merovecht sent ya.”

A flamed burned in Cyrus’s eyes. “Left, flowers, left, right, Merovecht. Got it. Thank you.” He whipped back around and floated off, chanting the shortened instructions under his breath.

A stroke of luck sent the scent of flowers on an errant breeze to help him find the florist quickly. He politely ducked in and out the back. Merovecht was right; the alley was rough. Though it wasn’t the worst one Cyrus had found himself in since misfortune sunk its teeth into him. If things went well tonight, hopefully this would be the last dark, dank alley he had to skulk through.

Left again.

The alley was narrow and filled with all sorts of junk; not to mention a lot of liquids and questionably furry things that Cyrus really didn’t want to think about. Despite the obstacles, he managed to forge onward. Barely. His cloak snagged on a crooked nail. He hit his head on a half-fallen beam. He tripped and fell forward right into one of the puddles with dubious furry bits that he had been desperately trying to avoid. Perhaps this was the worst alley he had been in—what he would give to go back and enjoy that spa in The Maiden’s Wish. With his countenance compromised, he shudderingly put his right hand along the wall to make sure he didn’t miss the right path.

The minutes started adding up. Cyrus worried he messed up somewhere along the line. Or had been tricked. Just before he admitted defeat, the alley let out into a small alcove. The space was no more than ten feet in any direction. Across from the alley’s mouth was a crooked, wooden archway with a faded curtain pulled to one side. A feint glow escaped from within. It was the only sign of someone might be there; the only sounds were the muffled hubbub from the main shops. Cyrus began wishing that at least one of the others had come with him.

“What can I do for you, kid?” a smoke-scratched voice asked over his shoulder.

Cyrus yelped, whirled around stumbling a bit, and looked up at the goliath consuming the entire alleyway, preventing any kind of escape. Why did it feel like he just made the last mistake of his life? Hopefully his charms would get him out of this alive. “Ah! Hello there. I was told that, um, I could get some…” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “explosives… from you.”

The corner of their nose scrunched up briefly—were they sneering or sniffing? “Oh yeah? And who was it exactly that said I had these explosives?” They whispered the last word mockingly.

“Right. Merovecht sent me.”

“Merovecht, huh?” They crossed their arms. A sharp jerk of their head left and then right, cracked their neck in a way that sounded like it broke. It made Cyrus’s skin crawl. “Well, I guess I should thank her for your patronage.” This was feeling more and more like a threat to our decreasingly naïve prince. They clapped a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. “Come. I’ll show you some explo–” They cut off short, their words turning into a groan as they doubled over. They stumbled to the side, one hand cradling their groin, the other bracing the wall.

Standing in their previous place was now a disgruntled, though strikingly gorgeous, human. When she was done starring daggers at the goliath, her eyes snapped to Cyrus. He had a flash of understanding of the concept terrified yet turned on. “You didn’t keep right,” she accused, raising her eyebrows judgingly.

“What? Of course I did,” Cyrus floundered defensively. Mentally he cursed himself; he knew he’d mess up at some point tonight.

She rolled her eyes. “Mervecht would’ve neve' sent you here. She and Verkeerd have had a grudge for years. Dropping her name is only gonna get you robbed dead.” She marched over to Verkeerd, tossed a sack at his feet, then snatched the coin purse from their hip. After giving the coins a quick count, she gave Cyrus another look over. “You said you were looking for explosives, right?”

“Yes?” He wasn’t fully trusting of her, but he had no other leads.

“Look.” She closed the distance between them, standing familiarly close—she kept looking him over too. “If you could help me out tonight and help me earn a bit of money, I’ll get you some good explosives. Deal?”

“Deal—wait. What do I have to do?”

“Are you good at fightin’?”

Pretty boy started to get flirty. “I can hold my own,” he said.

She didn’t trust that he could throw her further as she could him, but he was the best bet she was getting tonight—at the very least, he’d might be a hot hookup after a bath. “So… is that a yes?”

“Yes, of course. Shall we go?” He flashed a smile and motioned for her to lead the way.

And so, instead of retracing his steps and following the instructions already given to him, he followed this mysterious, new beauty to aid her whims tonight.

Despite her being in high heels, she navigated the precarious alley and streets better than he could. It made him think of Opal; quite a few things about her made him think of Opal—confidence, attitude, her own sharp sense of style. Plus, all the looks she kept throwing his way.

“So, what do you need money for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She groaned in annoyance then spoke venom. “My fuckin’ ex vanished when we were in the middle of a job. Bitchass left me and stuck me with a massive debt that I need to hurry and repay.”

“That’s horrible.” Cyrus had half the thought to offer her some of the loot they were going to nab tomorrow but—thankfully—he stopped himself. He didn’t know how much money was in that vault. And between his high bounty, and the fact they had to share their spoils with someone else already, he wasn’t sure he could offer such help to her. He couldn’t afford chivalry this time. But the knowledge he was currently on his way to help her get money assuaged his growing guilt. “I hope you’ve at least had better luck with partners since then.”

She threw a knowing glance at him. “I haven’t had any partners since. At least not any for more than a night or two.”

With it blatantly obvious they were both interested in hooking up, they continued on in silence—because why at least exchange names when you can just make it known how horny you are?

The mysterious woman led them out of the market and towards the Wishing Well. The casino wasn’t their destination though. They snaked through the alleys beside it and stopped at a crossway. She spoke aloud in a language Cyrus didn’t understand. He glanced around. He didn’t notice anyone, but she had to be talking to someone. Right? A moment passed without anything happening. Then the ground beneath them started to rumble. He jumped back in surprise. The stones parted and revealed a staircase descending into total darkness.

“Come on,” was all she said before heading down.

Did he continue to trust her? Did he follow her into the dark unknown in the hopes that she’ll uphold her end of their deal and give him explosives? Did he let her beauty completely cloud his sense of self-preservation?

Yes. Because the Wyvernwind brothers were like that more often than not.

The stairs were narrow, fitting only one person at a time. Thankfully it was also straight, so Cyrus didn’t struggle keeping his feet in the darkness. Light started to bloom ahead of them and soon the stairs opened into a wider, lit hallway. A roguish individual leaned against one of the side walls; they watched them closely as the passed.

Cyrus leaned in close and whispered to her, “So what exactly are we doing?”

“Beast fighting,” she answered with no care for secrecy.

“Okay… and how exactly do these beast fights work? Are we just betting on fights?” The memory of what she asked him earlier jumped to the front of his mind. Dread rapidly settled in. “Am I going to have to fight a beast?”

“You’ll take a polymorph potion and be turned into a random beast. I’ll handle all the betting. Hopefully, Avandra favors us tonight—and I guess Kord.” Quieter, she sneered, “If the gods even feel like giving any of us their attention.”

“There—there are healers there, right?”

She loudly scoffed at him. “Fights end once you’re knocked out of polymorph. Besides residual aches and phantom pains, there’s gonna be noth’n to heal. Well… unless your opponent gets a really good last hit. Then some of the damage might carry over as you detransform.”

Cyrus made a small, whimpering sound. But it was lost under the growing chatter from up ahead.

They finally arrived at the arena.

There were a lot more people than Cyrus expected—there was a lot more space too. It was an underground amphitheater that had similar vibes to the West Run. Was this apart of it? Considering the path they took to get here, Cyrus doubted it. But what did he know. It was likely built at the same time, originally a deep, underground part of it, but was now sealed off and used by the bands of rogues for their own gambling schemes.

His eyes caught on the five figures in the center of the pit. Three of them chatted like they were old friends who did this often. One was on edge, sitting off to the side on a stool, his leg jittering like a woodpecker. The last one was leaning against the wall, flirting with a few of the attendees leaning over the edge.

“Hey!” his companion yelled at him as she snapped her fingers in front of his face to catch his attention. “Come on. We gotta regista’ you.” She grabbed and dragged him off by the arm.

Heads turned and eyes lingered as they wove their way through. There was a mix of curiosity, threats, disinterest, and interest. None of it was making Cyrus feel remotely better about what he was about to be thrown into.

His still-unnamed companion handled his registration. When that was done, he was escorted to the pit. Before he went in, the woman stopped him and leaned in close. “Listen… Thanks again for doing this. I really need this money, so… do your best, alright.”

“With you cheering me on, how could I lose?”

His flirting caught her off guard; she laughed. “Save the charm for when ya win.” She stole a quick kiss before shoving him towards the pit. He stumbled back, smiling at her. A few other people around them whooped and jeered him. Flustered, Cyrus turned away and went down near the other combatants. They looked him over but continued as they were. Ten minutes later, the last two fighters joined the pit.

A wave of cheers filled the room. An assistant walked out and had them each pull lots as magic amplified the MC’s opening speech. Cyrus rolled the stone over and over in his hand. Then, as the MC prompted, the fighters held out their hands. A wave of magic swirled around them and numbers burned in the air above each stone, revealing their positions in the fighting bracket. Cyrus was number five. First bets finished up as the fighters took turns selecting their polymorph potions.

“Fighters, to your circles!” the MC declared. They all went to their respectively numbered magic circles along the perimeter. With a bit of flair, they activated the circles to contain the fighters until it was their time to fight. “And now… time to transform. Fighters! Take. Your. Potions!”

The crowd roared again. Each fighter downed their potion and turned into a different beast. Second bets poured in, both for the primary wave and the overall winner.

First fight was a giant boar verses a brown bear. Their containment spells dropped the moment the MC yelled fight. They both charged forward. The bear made the first strike. They landed a bite but missed a claw swipe when the boar pulled away. The boar threw their head to the side, attempting to jab the bear with their tusk. But they missed. Again, the bear could only get one bite in, deepening the wound they already created. Writhing in pain, the boar finally managed to jab the bear with their tusk. It wasn’t a strong attack, but at least they got one hit in before the bear chomped them, knocking them out. The bear dropped the limp body then turned and roared at the audience, triumphant. But they took their win prematurely. Their opponent had been downed, but not detransformed—giant boars were resilient after all. The boar staggered to their feet, barely hanging on. While the bear was distracted, thinking the cheers from the crowd were still singing their praise, the boar backed up then charged them. They hit the bear hard and knocked them prone. Breathing heavily, the boar screamed at the bear in a last act of defiance. To no surprise, the bear finished off the boar and the fighter reverted to their normal form.

Second fight was between a crocodile and dire wolf. The cheers of the crowd quickly turned into boos and yells of, “Come on!” and “Hit him already!” as the croc couldn’t catch the agile wolf, and the wolf didn’t know how to deal with the croc’s scaly hide. As the wolf tried to break past the croc’s rough skin, they tripped and plopped onto their back. This granted the croc an easy hit. With a yelp of pain, the wolf was quick to retaliate. The crowd’s cheers began to shift into amusement—but the joy was short lived. The damn fight quickly returned to the two of them not being able to do any damage against each other. The dire wolf finally got another bite in and finished off their opponent.

Then it was Cyrus’s first fight.

He, a polar bear, was up against a giant goat. Even with his lethal attributes, he didn’t underestimate the brutality of those horns. Especially since the goat instantly charged him and knocked him prone. With his enemy in close, Cyrus managed to land both a bite and claw swipe. It was almost enough to instantly win. The bloodied goat got one more good ram of its horns in before Cyrus landed the winning blow.

The last fight of this wave pitted a lion against a giant constrictor. First blood went to the lion, who pounced on the snake and got in a deep bite as its claws dug in for purchase. The snake flailed, trying to bite back but ultimately just shaking the lion off themselves. Prepared, the snake did not let the lion bite them again. They baited the lion and struck while they were recovering, coiling around them. They successfully immobilized the lion. Not that the lion cared much. It was easier for them to sink their teeth into the snake’s muscly body when they wasn’t slithering around. But exchanging bites paid a toll on both fighters. As fatigue set in, they both failed to make purchase. The constrictor almost lost grip on the lion, too. In that flash of fear of their opponent escaping, they struck true, winning the round.

So far so good. Cyrus and his new friend made a small profit already. Hopefully they could keep it.

The second wave started up. It was the battered bear verses the rather healthy dire wolf. Based on apparent health, the fight would go to the wolf. But based on damage capability, the bear lead in lethality.

The fight was decided in two strikes. The wolf won before betting could even finish.

Cyrus’s little bear ears drooped. He was not ready for his second fight to happen so soon. But now he had to fight the giant constrictor. They both received about the same overall damage, but Cyrus was looking worse. He needed to stay smart. He needed to avoid further injury. He rushed to get the first strikes. He had the advantage of being able to get two strikes in near simultaneously. His opponent went with the same tactic as they had their last fight and wrapped around him, restraining him. He refused to go down like the lion had. He put up a struggle then bit down as hard as he could in the spot the lion had started. It was enough. Cyrus won again.

The final fight.

Cyrus got a short reprieve to allow the last bets to be placed. Then it was him verses the dire wolf.

The wolf lunged, going for a bite. But they weren’t expecting him to dodge by standing up on his hind legs. Cyrus slammed down with a swipe of his claws and snapped a near lethal bite. The wolf yelped and whined. And because he failed to finish the job in one go, the wolf got another chance.

Ripping the victory from him.

The crowd was cheering in a mix of joy and defeat. Cyrus slammed his fist on the ground, then, recalling their group’s luck in the previous day’s gambling adventures, he yelled out, “Double or nothing! Double or nothing!” He caught eyes with the MC.

“Quite, quiet,” the MC hushed the room. They strode up to Cyrus and looked at him with an amused look. Then they looked at the other fighter, a chartreux tabaxi, as she popped out of the polymorph. To her, they asked, “You up for another fight?”

She shrugged and put her fists on her hips. “I’m good with kicking his ass again. Especially if it makes me more gold.”

“You good for the money?” the MC asked Cyrus.

“I don’t plan on losing,” he said, avoiding having to lie.

His little aversion did not go unnoticed, but they let it slide. “Well, well,” the MC boasted to the room again. “It looks like we have a rare opportunity here. Here’s how the betting will go…”

Cyrus’s friend ran up to the side of the pit and glared daggers at him. He skirted off to the side as the MC talked on. “What the hells are you doing?” she hissed at him. “You really think you can take on Ivy? You’ve already lost. I’ve at least made some gold tonight; just get the fuck outta there!”

“Trust me on this,” he said. It was a complete mystery where he got this confidence from, but he was obviously dead set in his decision. “Please.”

He looked so sweetly sincere. Fuck, why did she always get mixed up with cute fools like him? She groaned and shook her head. “Fine! But I swear… I will crush your skull with my thighs if you lose this.”

“Deal,” he smiled then captured a quick kiss.

“We’ll have a non-morphed fight in twenty minutes,” the MC said. “Settle your bets and prepare for a fight.”

Thankfully for Cyrus, they provided him with his choice of weapon. He took a dagger and a sword. Usually, he didn’t like fighting. When his brother and his friends got into fights, he always tried to avoid the fray. Large fights were not his forte. But duels… Duels were where his skills shined best.

He took a couple test swings, then faced his opponent. “You—you’re not going to use a weapon?”

Ivy smirked and cracked her knuckles. “Boy, I am a weapon.”

For yet another time tonight, Cyrus felt both intimidated yet turned on.

But then mostly intimidated as she made the first move. She rushed in and threw two punches. Dodging the first one made the second land precisely in a tender spot. Thankfully his training helped him mitigate some the damage. He used his momentum to dodge her next punch, but again got caught by the follow-up. Usually, his duels were against other weapon wielders; her being a monk and only using her fists was something he needed to adjust for. And fast.

Cyrus swiped with his sword, hoping to at least get her to back off. Though he did land the hit; she wasn’t expecting such a quick reaction from him. His sword left a nasty impression. His dagger followed suit.

Neither of them had been prepared for just how nasty the other could be. She couldn’t take more risks. Yet again, he managed to avoid her first of two punches. She focused herself and forced her energy into his pressure points, attempting to stun him. If she could incapacitate him for even one round, she’d prevail. But he was unfazed. Perhaps it was his airy nature that made him such a challenge; not only did he brush off her stun, he dodged her second flurry of punches.

Like him, Ivy didn’t fall for same tricks. Both of Cyrus’s swipes failed to connect. Focusing herself, she got in two quick jabs. She didn’t have much Ki left, but it was now or never. She tried to stun him again. Cursed when it failed again. Using the last bit of her reserves, she struck out with two more punches, landing both. Finally, she was in her zone.

Cyrus would not last another round. It was now or never. He stole a glance at the woman he still hadn’t gotten the name of yet. Her expression was nothing but cold panic. I can’t let her down, he affirmed to himself. He couldn’t let his brother down either. Brontë—Dorian, had done so much for him already; he and his friends were continuing to do so much for him. He had to prove himself worthy of all this effort in at least one way.

He needed to win.

He needed to get the explosives.

With this weight pushing him on, Cyrus went for a slash. He feinted, using some fancy footing, and aimed for her back. He felt the blade connect. In his desire to end this fight, he let the blade eat into her back. Just as he went to follow up with his dagger… Ivy fell to her knees. Then collapsed face down.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. A cleric rushed forth to tend to Ivy as Cyrus laughed, releasing the tension that had been holding him together. He went to the edge of the pit and pulled his friend into a proper, deep kiss. She laughed against his lips.

Then the adrenaline high ended. All Cyrus could make sense of was pain and fatigue and the strong desire to not be standing anymore. He went down. The woman cursed and reached out a hand towards him as he collapsed—she couldn’t really help him at the angle they were at. She jumped down into the pit and eased him onto her lap. Withdrawing a potion from her bag, she started to carefully pour it into his mouth. He stared up at her with half-lidded eyes. This was nice. Especially so when she started gently combing her fingers through his hair.

His little respite was interrupted by a small tremor. Everyone gasped and exclaimed in alarm, asking around but gaining no answers. Regardless of what it was, it reminded Cyrus of his real mission tonight. “Um, do you think we could get the explosives now?”

Her hand stopped in his hair. He looked like crap. He needed rest. Out of everything he could ask for right now, he still just wanted combustibles? It insulted her that all their flirting didn’t eclipse his strange need for the weapon. Perhaps he was denser than she thought.

“Sure,” she said flatly. They both got up and exited the pit. As she collected their winnings, she chatted up a few of the rogues. They tipped them off to a guy that did some dealings with an old merchant in Vasselheim who always seemed to be fresh from a fire. If anyone would have what Cyrus was looking for, it’d be him.

They left a different way than they came in. The hall had a small crowd. Most were in a small panic from the quake, but still lingered about. Whatever was going on up top, no one seemed in a rush to go see it firsthand. In a room branching off a side hall, they found their man. He greeted them with a sharp, judging glare. But once he recognized Cyrus for the winning fighter of the night, his expression morphed into a big grin and friendly posture. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m looking for some explosives. We heard you were the guy to see.”

“Sure thing. How much you want?”

Cyrus hesitated. That he wasn’t exactly sure of. He knew what they needed to do with it, but he couldn’t exactly say he needed to blow the skydeck off the side of The Maiden’s Wish. Well… he shouldn’t have said it. “Uhh… like enough to break a balcony off the side of a building?”

Both of them looked at Cyrus. They were so confused and a horrified kind of curious, yet ultimately hesitant to ask and learn what the hell this boy was up to.

A sale was a sale. The merchant raised up both his hands, palms out, letting his skepticism go. There was enough shit going on in this town. He’d rather have plausible deniability. While he excused himself to grab the items from a hidden back room, his lovely kissing buddy angry whispered, “What the fuck, dude? You blowing up a building?”

“No! No. Not a building. Just,” he shrugged, making a small sound and partially guilty face, “part of a building. Literally just need to break a piece off.”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna do this shit instead of getting laid,” she sighed.

“Wait, what?”

The merchant came back out with a small crate. “Alright, here ya go.” He set it on his desk and counted out a handful of… wooden cylinders? Cyrus had no idea. “Careful with these, alright. Place them where you want the explosion then light this wick—called a fuse. They tend to burn down rather quickly so light it then get some distance back. The powder inside these things is highly flammable. Got it?”

“Yes. Highly flammable. Thank you,” he said earnestly like a puppy. Thankfully the vendor put the dynamite into a leather satchel for him because he didn’t think to bring anything to carry it in. It was time for him to get back. He definitely had lost track of time and wasn’t sure if he was already late. With an endearingly pitiful expression, he asked, “Also, which way is the fastest way out to The Maiden’s Wish?”

The merchant raised a brow at him. He was beginning to assume that Cyrus intended to use the dynamite on the casino—which wasn’t wrong; he just couldn’t have guessed it was for the skydeck. Regardless, it wasn’t his business. He pointed straight up. “It’s nearly on top of us. Just go to the main hall, turn left, and there’ll be a ladder up about thirty feet down.”

“Thank you, again.” He turned to the woman, taking both her hands in his. “Sadly, I must part ways. Hopefully, we won enough money for your debts tonight.” He went in for another kiss but stopped short. Pulled back a little. In a hushed voice he said, “This is sort of embarrassing but… I never did catch your name.”

“I never threw it.” Cyrus stared at her with utter confusion scrunching his face. She rolled her eyes. “That was a joke, dummy.”

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, only partially understanding it now. “I’m Cyrus.”

“Denise.”

“Well Denise. I don’t know if I’ll ever be returning to Kymal after tonight. But it’d be great to run into you again somewhere else one day.”

She gave him a sassy look and pulled into a kiss by his collar. “We’ll see, pretty boy.”

Cyrus rushed off. He found the exit without trouble and exited out in a sliver of an alley a building over from the casino. Peaking out, he didn’t see any possible trouble. He darted for a set of doors on the side of the building. They were locked. He banged on the doors, calling for someone to, please, let him in. Dammit. Did he need to temp the front entrance? Sounds came from the other side of the doors and then they opened for him. Luck was still on his side.

He ran past the person who opened them, only throwing a quick thanks over his shoulder as he beelined for the skydeck. He took the stairs two at a time, shoving past the few people who were still moving about—some having small fights of their own. He caught a couple errant blades, adding to his wounds for the night. But he wouldn’t let it stop him.

The first thing he noticed was that the skydeck door was closed. Cyrus considered knocking on the door in the pattern he and his brother always used growing up. But nah. That wasn’t the style of this group. And so he yelled, “Two bits!” and burst through onto the skydeck where, thankfully, everyone else already was.

Immediately, Dorian looked to him. “Did you bring the explosives?”

“I bought it—I brought it,” he said while recovering his breath. He pulled out the bag and offered it to his brother. “The things I gave away to get it…”

The rest of their heist was just as hectic as Cyrus’s night.

But they did it.

They succeeded. They got enough money to pay off his bounty; made a new friend and helped her with her goal; likely made more enemies; and they also managed to heist some rare broomstone—its fate yet to be determined.

For the first time in a while, Cyrus was able to rest with lighter shoulders.

— — —

Fun Facts: for the fights, I literally rolled up a random battle roster and then rolled each of the fights (I made Cyrus a polar bear instead of a black bear like mentioned in the one-shot because he needed to have a better chance of actually winning, lol). Also, I made Cyrus a Swashbuckler Rogue; though he’s bad at the more rogue-ish bits and doesn’t even know Thieves Cant. Also also, Denise is Aimee’s character Deni$e that she portrayed in her Narative Telephone episode, and that was name dropped in the ExU: Kymal one-shot—I didn’t write her name with the “$” for the sake of anyone using voice to text.

— — —

Other Crit Role writings:

Critical Narrative - Poems based on the Narrative Telephone stories

The Gold of the Lucidian - Song about Uk'otoa

Nein Goodbyes (the Mighty Legend) - Song covering the Mighty Nein's adventures

Copper & Amethyst - Shadowgast fanfic

Main Writing Masterlist

#cyrus wyvernwind #critrole fanfic #ExU #ExU: Kymal #exandria unlimited: kymal #exandria unlimited #crown keepers #critical role #critrole fanfiction #my writing

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