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noblecrumpet-dorkvision · 4 years

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Overland Travel as a Dungeon

With D&D being canceled last night due to Roll20 issues, I’ve had time to do extra prepwork! I’m trying something new to take the tedium out of overland travel by making it more like a dungeon with “rooms” depending on the choices the players make (the labels are GM-only for my own reference)

I’m also making Long Rests during travel more difficult (so I don’t have to challenge them with deadly encounters at every step): Each long rest, players will need to choose between regaining their hit points, regaining half their max hit dice, or regaining their spell slots/long-rest-recharging features. In other words, three long rests will end up equaling 1 true long rest. They can choose the same thing multiple times in a row.

All encounters are established ahead of time, but which ones they encounter are based on their decisions. My rules for designing the encounters:

75% of encounters must progress the story (7/9 advance the plot here)

Each must be foreshadowed in the players’ options. They should know the extent of dangers of their choices.

50% should be non-combat (traps, RP, skill challenge, etc)

Here are the encounters the players face while in the swamp:

Inclement Weather

A torrential rainstorm begins to rage. (these ones are non-plot encounters)

Seek cover and wait it out: The tree the players rest beneath loosens from a rush of water and falls over, burying and suffocating those that fail the save. Three successful Athletics checks frees them.

Keep moving carefully: A spinosaurus hunts the players using the rain to cover its approach.

Night Terrors

There are no encounters during the day but the players will need to make survival checks to stay on the newly-flooded path. At night, our warlock-turned-wizard has dreams relating to their shadowy ex-patron, who desperately wants control of her back but an amulet is keeping the patron at bay. When she awakens, one of her allies was mind-controlled into stealing the amulet and throwing it into the muck. After the charm fades, shadow stags attack once the warlock is vulnerable (I took large Giant Elks and combined them with undead Shadows, and had their dash create a trail of magic darkness).

Flooded Path

The road passes through a valley that got flooded by the rain.

Cross the Water: The players spot a crocodile in the water. It ignores them for now but it seems the water might be dangerous. They will also need to figure out how they are doing it (boat, swimming?) and make checks. Lizardfolk and a giant crocodile relating to the players’ past can be encountered here. They are hunting and will attack initially, but the players might be able to end combat early if they persuade them.

Find a Way Around: There is a forest filled with strange green mist, similar to a corrupted plant-hydra they saw earlier. They will need to make survival checks and regret not letting the ranger from last session help them. A hag has been corrupting the land near here, and they will get attacked by 3x owlbears with a 5′ poison aura and corrosive claws.

Old Themryl

Depending on which ways the players went, they can access different parts of an old kingdom or try to find the main road again (but, nearing the exit of the swamps, the players might want to lay low for story reasons). The other story stuff in this fork is hard to explain lacking context so I will just explain the encounters.

Investigate skulls on pikes: The players can find Themryl Gardens, a cemetery desecrated by skulls on pikes with glowing eyes. It is currently being raided by a blackguard with 3 skeleton servants. He is trying to break into a mausoleum but his skeletons are too weak. If disturbed, he summons two Flameskulls from the pikes nearby to attack.

Inside the mausoleum is a Spectator guardian. A glyph of warding trap is on a sarcophagus, which also has a secret compartment with story stuff and treasure. the corpse within is also story-related and leads to Old Themryl Keep for the other half of the info.

Find the Road: The players meet a bard belonging to their destination’s innkeepers’ guild. He seeks Old Themryl and will pay handsomely to be led there to gain inspiration for his songs. Players can ignore him if they choose, but at least they will learn about the plot dungeons if they wish to return.

Investigate the bodies: Players find bodies riddled with arrow wounds (but no arrows), crawling away from a thicket before they died. In the thicket is the half-sunken ruins of Old Themryl Keep. It is protected by Sword Wraiths (but with stats for longbows) on the battlements.

Inside, there is a simple statue puzzle and mysterious ghostly antics. The puzzle opens the next chamber.

Next room is a hallway with two normal sword wraiths. One door in the hall is caved in. Another door will open but buries the door opener in muck (trap). Last door leads to a grand hall.

Grand hall is knee-deep in water with rubble islands and a throne peeking above surface. Sword Wraith Commander is here, and summon other sword wraiths. The commander deals bonus lightning instead of necrotic and has a lair action on round 20 where he electrifies the water for a high amount of damage. Players can avoid by the islands or throne, but the minions may push them in. If put to rest, story stuff happens.

Last room has a noble’s treasure and a handmaid’s journal that dispenses plot, and leads to the cemetery for the other half of the info.

Downed Caravan

The players come by a caravan trying to fix their wheels/axle and trying to treat wounded members. One would think they were attacked by bandits, but in reality it was a patrol of corrupt soldiers demanding tax from these merchants from an enemy kingdom from New Themryl (the PCs destination). If the players help the group, they are offered a way into an enemy kingdom with shelter, and rewarded with some of their goods. If not, well... the PCs don’t gain anything. They’re just assholes.

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And then the players arrive at their destination!

There were multiple paths, options to backtrack and explore, RP elements, mini-dungeons, skill checks, puzzles, traps, and big monsters... just like any dungeon! Feel free to steal any of this and especially the concept of “travel as dungeon” because I think it’s going to be more fun. But we will find out on our next session of the Dorkvision stream! (Sundays 9PM-12 eastern and wednesdays 7-10PM - https://www.twitch.tv/noblecrumpet)

#dungeons and dragons #DnD #homebrew #overland travel #hex crawl #encounter #random encounter

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writing-the-end · 3 years

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LoL Chapter 56- Ancient Quarrels

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Ex returns home with new friends, but struggles with the reality that his old stomping grounds have grown up without him, all while learning more about the history of dark magic.

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“I thought I told you to come alone.” Xisuma states, staring at the rainbow haired twins. No matter how much the two try to blend in, the ever shifting colors of their locks always stand out.

“I thought you could use the help. You clearly need it if you reached out to me.” Ex steps off the pirate ship, followed by the king and his brother. Ex tries his best to keep his gaze on the ground at his feet, the grass, sand, and dirt. He doesn’t want to see what Xisuma and all his friends have done to the safe haven they found together. As brothers. He doesn’t want to see what he's missed, what he’s been too afraid to claim for his own. He doesn’t want to see how much time has changed the island he once called home.

But Ex stumbles over a rock, his books scattering from his arms, while he plummets to the ground. He could let go of his remaining scrolls and books, but these articles are ancient and invaluable. He’d rather break his nose than let go of them.

Lucky for Ex, he doesn’t have to choose. One of the hermits grabs him before he gets a mouthful of dirt. Ex opens his eyes, forced to look at the island. And he sees everything.

It looka exactly the same. It looks completely different. The grounds were the same- the same rocky shores, soft beaches, hills, forest, even the lake at the center on the north side of the island. The grass the same green color, the sky the same blue, the distant mist and waves dancing together. But dotting the island now stood a menagerie of buildings. Where there used to only be the tower of stone he and X built, now a glass biodome rests on one side, a barn on the other. Smoke rolls free from the chimney of a weaponsmith’s house, and just off the island a cloud floats low, the white tower upon it open to the breeze of the sea.

Ex collects his books, and slinks off to the guild hall. Sor follows Grian to help with Apatia, to make the decision on how to move forward with his recovery. Tris follows behind Ex, taking in the open sea and sky. So unlike Milliara.

It was exactly that which drew the void twins here in the first place. They dared enter the Ashioll sea because it was quiet, peaceful, unlike Milliara. Back when there were only two- they didn’t need anyone more. They didn’t want anyone more. In the end, Ex got to be alone, moreso than ever. Without even a brother.

Being back on Eremita was painful, but as a healing wound would be. For the first time in years, his brother reached out to him. For the first time, they were putting aside the argument so long ago and working together. Like they did when they were young.

At the same time, both X and Ex set out their books on the same table. At the same time, like mirror images of one another, they set out their maps, their inkwells, their quills, even their books ordered the exact same way. The similarities between the two were uncanny, leaving the hermits baffled as they watch them. If it wasn’t for Ex’s white hair, it’d be impossible to tell them apart.

Ex speaks first, pulling the red fabric of his cloak away from his face so the hermits can hear him. “The last known insurgence of dark magic was over a thousand years ago. Before Lairyon became a kingdom, near the end of the ancient ones’s time. As we all know, Addows is the only place that still has significant and readable history of the ancient ones. Everything disappeared just like them.”

“And no one knows why.” Tris adds in, sitting down and plucking a book. He flips through the pages. “The ancient ones had magic more powerful than most wizards. Very few forms of ancient powers survive today- including angelic magic.”

The hermits look at Grian, but he simply shrugs. He knows nothing about the ancient ones, just that they’re… well, ancient. Iskall speaks up, resting his cheek on his hand. “Could it be that it was the dark magic that wiped them out?”

Both of the void twins and Tris shake their head, and begin to answer at the same time. Ex and X glare at one another, and Tris takes the moment to answer instead. “No, it’s not like there’s a sign of a fight, or a struggle, or anything. Just...one day they were all over this kingdom, and then- poof, gone.”

“But the ancient ones weren’t the only people here. The kiplings have been living in these waters longer than anyone. And if we cross reference the information King Sormena gave me access to in the royal library, and the deep sea libraries of the Kiplings, we can start to get an inkling of understanding.”

“My gods you’re so boring even now.” Xisuma groans. “We dont need the whole story, and Lairyon doesn’t have time. What did you learn and how can we use it to defeat Dolios?”

“Well…” Ex bits his lip. “We didn’t learn how they defeated the dark magic all those times before. But we did find the location of one of their lost cities. Tris and I believe it could even be the ancient capital of theirs.”

The hermits groan, some even dramatically flopping back in their chairs. It seems all they ever have are breadcrumbs, leading them around in circles all across Lairyon. TFC speaks up first, though even he seems exhausted. “It’s better than nothing. It’s our only hope at this point. So where is it?”

“Tris had pinpointed the general location of the lost city in the Ashioll Fjords, but together we were able to determine the exact location.” Ex plucks a quill from the table, dipping the tip in the ink and marking one of the many divots and crests of the northernmost part of Lairyon. All the hermits lean in, peering at the location. It looks no different from any other part of the fjords, or even the rest of Lairyon.

“If anyone knows how to defeat Dolios’s dark magic, it has to be the ancient ones.” Etho states. “They did it before, we just have to do it again.”

It gives the hermits hope to know this isn’t the first time, they aren’t the only ones in all of history to face dark magic. Ex looks up at the hermits, a question that’s been dancing in his mind finding its way to his tongue before he can stop it. “Why did you guys ever decide to do this? What in the world made you guys think you could take on a dark wizard? Be the chosen few like the ancient ones?”

The hermits look at one another, as if they’d find an answer in the stares and faces of their peers. But no one has the answer. Though Joe is more than willing to come up with his own. “Perhaps, in this story, there are no chosen ones. No destiny or prophesied heroes. Perhaps it is just by the choice of normal man, who chooses to make a difference, who chooses to stand up and fight, that is really what makes a hero?”

“Is this what I missed when I left?” Ex questions Xisuma, who nods solemnly.

“What will we find in the lost city?” Grian questions.

“I dunno, it’s lost.” Tris quips, causing Grian to blush when he realizes his question. “But if it’s anything like Addows, you should be prepared for ancient ones magic and the stone buildings they made their cities from. Apart from that- you just gotta look in the right place.”

The hermits realize they’re going in on this blind. Once again, they have little more than a hope, a thread of a lead, taking them somewhere in search of answers. Whether it was Gildara, or the Champion’s Cup, or even the Forest of Memories, they’ve always been chasing the same specter of knowledge. Hoping to find something more.

“But you won’t be alone this time.” Ex points out. The hermits turn to face him, his face so familiar, yet so vastly different. “King Sormena volunteered to go along with you, to give aid on your search.”

Tris averts his gaze, his jaw set tight at the mention of his brother joining the hermits. Doc raises his hand, almost condescending. “Won’t Dolios notice the king is gone?”

“He’s not in Milliara right now. The Wanderers informed me of that- where he is, I don’t know, but this is a rare opportunity that we can’t waste. You’ll need every mind and magic to figure out the puzzles and clues that the lost city may have. I’d best get packing if i were you guys.”

Groups disperse off, back to their homes, caves, ships, and clouds. Once again preparing, as a whole guild, to go off on another adventure. Even Tris disappears, either to go find and argue with his brother, or get a pint of beer from Cleo. But one person stays behind.

Xisuma doesn’t ever look directly at his brother, but he always turns his head just slightly to be able to see Ex shuffling papers. His body is aimed out from the guild hall, looking over, across the island of Eremita. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, X speaks up. “Will you be able to take care of Apatia while we’re gone? I don’t think he can go back to Milliara with you.”

Ex raises an eyebrow. It almost sounds like an invitation to stay on the island. Almost. “I guess if no one else will, I can offer my help. And glean information from him about the magistrate. Perhaps I can talk to Ian about engineering a prosthesis… Kiplings aren’t really meant to live without their fins.”

The void mage shakes his head, listening to his brother continue to ramble on under his breath. So many years apart, and yet the same old Ex. For the first time in years, after so long hating his twin, refusing to talk to him, removing every sign he ever existed on this island, now he’s standing in their guild hall. And for the first time in years, Xisuma feels like he can let go of the anger and tension from that fight so long ago.

Ex steps up beside Xisuma, and the two gaze over Eremita. They watch as Keralis and Zedaph round up sheep for their midday meal, Iskall, Mumbo, and Grian arguing over what kind of redstone they could possibly need on their journey, Wels and False sharpening the blades of their own weapons and others.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Eremita looks more alive than it ever was when it was just the two of them. The colors of all different wizards, from all walks of life. All a part of this guild that Xisuma has found. All this, that Ex was afraid of. “You’ve done a good job building yourself a home. Finding yourself a family. Guess you didn’t really need me.”

Xisuma turns, and removes his mask. For the first time in years, Ex can see his brother's face. They can both see the scars they left on each other. On their skin and in their hearts. Xisuma’s fingers run along the scratched out marking in the metal. Wishing he could take that fit of anger back and fix it. “I didn’t do this without you, though. When I wasn’t sure what to do, it was always your annoying voice that guided me to the right decision.”

“We have the same voice.” Ex points out.

“Exactly. No matter what, no matter what I did, you were still with me, a part of me. But when I didn't know what to do, I thought about what you would choose. And it always led me in the right direction. Even though you weren’t here, I still needed you. I still needed my brother.”

To hear that word come from Xisuma’s mouth, to hear him call Ex that- brother. All these years, all he ever wanted was his brother back. To have a family again. Ex can feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t want his brother to see him crying over such a simple thing. “I think it’ll be nice to have a family again. It...it feels good to be home.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #light of lairyon #wizard hermits #wizard au #hermitcraft fanfic #wizard xisuma #wizard ex #xisuma #evil xisuma #wizard tfc #wizard etho #tinfoilchef #ethoslab

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the-goth-catte · 3 years

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A Shifting of the Sands: I

The sun might have set over the barren, rocky desert of Thanalan, but the heat had yet to fully abate. Perhaps a bell, maybe two, had passed since the radiant disc that burned so bright, and hot, over the arid landscape had set, and blessed darkness had descended to give its slowly-cooling relief to the denizens of the scorched desert. As the sun had sank beneath the glittering domes and spires of Ul’dah, the sky had come to life with a myriad of blazing, brilliant colors - painting both the sky, and the imagination, in rich hues of orange and red, fading up to purples and deep blues, eventually merging all together into the blackness of the abyss at the crown of the world. As the moments ticked past the colors played out their panoramic show for all the world to see, living art dancing gleefully in the skies above them; at dusk slowly ilmed its way toward full night a sprinkling of stars began to twinkle into existence in the darkness that replaced the vivid sunset; only the brightest appeared at first, their brilliant radiance defiant against the dying of the day’s light. But as the world descended further into darkness, their brethren began to shine fully into view until the sky was once again alight with color. This time, instead of broad swaths across the entirety of the horizon it was a dazzling show of faintly shimmering lights across the heavens, like little camp fires on some far and distant shore.

Y'naalie Vhenna had sat on a moss covered rock, the gentle mist from the slow running stream-turned-waterfall wafting over her sweat-coated, exhaustion-laced limbs. Beneath that slowly fading sky, magenta eyes watching the colors bleed from the day as the twinkling lights of the stars slowly showed their radiant faces. The day had been long for her - most days, truth be told, were - and these quiet moments in which the world transitioned slowly from the glaring, bright heat of desert day to the calm, strangely serene night were some of the scant few in which she could find a measure of peace. From well before the rising of the sun at dawn Naalie was hard at work within the halls of the gladiator's guild, honing her craft to be the fiercest underdog that stepped foot onto the blood sands. Being as short as she was, as slender as she was, Naalie was no stranger to not being taken seriously in the world of combat; larger foes oft looked down their noses at the diminutive gladiatrix, scoffing away the woman against whom they had been pitted due to her stature. These disdainful, dismissive looks from gladiators and fans alike only drove her to train harder, fight harder... so that she could show them just how ferocious she can be. And that is why Naalie rose several bells before the dawn began to lighten the horizon, shuffling her way to the hall so that she could be the first in to practice her maneuvers... and why she was oft the last one to leave, leaden limbs carrying her out into Ul'dah by instinct alone. Not wishing to return to the cramped, crowded apartment that she shared with the remnants of her tribe, Naalie often found herself wandering beyond the city walls and into the desert proper; if she got here at just the right time of night, like tonight, it was a sight to behold and worked some sort of magical wonder at easing some of the tension that perpetually plagued her body. As the world fully gave way to night, the little nocturnal creatures began to stir themselves to life; night time insects began to chirp their songs to one another, creating an almost organic melody that carried across the barren wastes while keen-eyed birds made their shrill calls and gentle coos in search of dinner and companionship. And all the while, the splashing of the small waterfall behind her added a soothing soundtrack that Naalie could sit and enjoy for bells on end. A gentle breeze picked up the mist from the falling water, carrying it across the rock upon which Naalie sat and out toward the arid landscape beyond; what little moisture in it wouldn't last long, this verdant oasis seeming to cling jealously to the precious water and plant life it had carved out for itself. A backward glance from Naalie was all that it took for the idea of slipping into the water to form in her mind; despite the retreat of the sun, it was still quite hot in the desert... and coupled with the weary exhaustion, the thin film of dried sweat, and the need to do anything relaxing, well... it was too much for the blonde Miqo'te to resist. Never shy about nudity, even when around others, Naalie surmised that she was alone enough to justify shedding her training clothes without undue attention; making short work of the wardrobe, and glad to be out of the clothes that clung limply to her skin, she was soon slipping into the knee-deep water with a newfound energy. Slender legs splashed through the dirty, sand-laced water without a care, seeming to take a certain glee in making noise and kicking up the water; by the time she'd shuffled underneath the crisp, falling water there resided a small, content smile on her thin lips. With her head back, Naalie allowed the cool water to soak her hair and flow over her face; rivers of the sweet, refreshing liquid ran down her body to join once again at the pool in which she stood. She was the proverbial stone in their path, the obstacle around which they must flow to continue their journey eternal. But what a delightful stone to be, if for that moment alone. Clap. Clap. Clap. Three staccato bursts of sound, so innocuous and innocent, snapped Naalie out of the quiet reverie of her moment of oneness with nature. The Miqo'te turned, hand reaching quickly for the blade that always rested at her hip. The blade that was, specifically, not at her hip at she stood beneath the cold, flowing water. Fingers clenching futilely at empty air, the gladiatrix grimaced as she realized her potentially dangerous predicament. Standing just shy of the lapping edge of the sandy pool were three figures, two tall and imposing uniformed men flanking a short, swarthy, gaudily dressed Lalafell man. His hands held still before him, motionless after the dramatic announcement of the trio's arrival; gloves of black silk padded the percussion of his palms, muffling the sound somewhat against the song of the desert night. The gloves, like the rest of the flowing and colorful silks he wore and seemingly limitless number of gemstone encrusted jewelry bedazzling his figure, spoke of an ostentatious amount of wealth. The smirk on his lips, the gleam in his eye, all suggested this was a man who seldom, if ever, didn't get what he wanted. Money. Power. Influence. Danger. All writ large on the smug expression of that little Dunesfolk. "Who-" Naalie began, only to be cut off by the little man. His arms retracted, folding lackadaisically over his partially bared chest; Naalie could see the glistening of oiled and perfumed chest hairs peaking out from the edges of his robe, catching the reflection of the wan moonlight. For some reason, that was what caught her eye beyond all else. "Who I am isn't necessarily what you should be concerned about," His voice, gods, his voice. Grating and nasal, it was every bit unpleasant as one would assume from looking at him. "It's who you are that is why we're here." He went on, leaving no room for interruption, "The Crimson Jaguar, Ul'dah's scappiest little gladiator! Not undefeated, but quite impressive in the arena. A darling favorite of the Jewel and her people, not to mention the bookies who rake in the gil hand over fist with every hard-fought victory you claw for yourself. I'm a fan, I'm quite impressed. Smitten, even. To think, I'm in the presence of the Crimson Jaguar. Boys, can you believe it?" The little Lalafell asked, glancing up to the two men on either side of him; a dull chorus of laughter echoed following his prompting, though from the sound of it neither men truly understood what they were laughing at. "Can't believe it, boss." "Nope, I don't believe it." With the snap of his fingers the two goons fell into immediate, practiced silence so that the only sounds were, once again, the singing of the crickets and the splashing of falling water. There was something uncomfortable in that man's stare, something intense and foreboding. The slowly spreading, more-than-slightly sinister smile did nothing to allay that notion. "Now, if I remember correctly..." the nameless man went on, "... you have an important fight coming up, don't you? Against, oh... what was his name...? Boys, do you remember?" "Sure don't, boss." "Nope, boss, can't remember." Snap. "Bjornulf. Bjornulf the Hellsbeast." "Oh, boss, it was Bjornulf." "Bjornulf, boss, I think is the guy's name." The chorus chimed in. "Bjornulf the Hellsbeast," the man echoed once again, clucking his tongue as if, for some reason, this provoked some sort of thought in the devious little cogs of his mind. "You know, my sweet Crimson Jaguar, the odds they have in the betting houses? You to defeat that monster of a Hrothgar by over 50:1! Ul'dah's rising star." He paused his speech, only to begin a slow, idle pace around the water's edge without ever coming so close as to sully the shoes he wore. "A lot of people stand to make a lot of gil when you win that fight. They'd be crazy to bet against somebody who has shown as much skill and determination and drive as you have. I mean, could you even imagine the payout if somebody were to go all in on Bjornulf and he won?" The Lalafell asked; at first, the question seemed innocuous enough, but the tone with which it was delivered... the narrowing of the eyes, the arching of the brow, the curling of the lips. It wasn't a question, it was a suggestion. An offer? A threat. As the realization dawned on Naalie, the Lalafell's smile grew all the broader... and feigned innocence. Little shoulders lifted in a shrug, prompting the jingle-jangle of excessive jewelry to call out in the still night. "I'm not going to thro-" Naalie began, before once again being cut off. "Nobody is asking you to throw anything," The Lalafell cut in once again, his tone harsh. "But, if it happened... the payout." His demeanor shifted, his smile returned, and his shoulders shrugged their nonchalant little shrug. "And I'm certain your patrons would reward you for your valiant effort, win or lose. There's no shame in it, after all... right, boys?" "No shame, right boys?" Left goon echoed. "Left boys, no shame." Right goon said. The Lalafell paused at that, merely shaking his head a few seconds later. "You don't know who I am, Crimson Jaguar, but I know who you are. And I know who pulls your strings. Work with me and we can go far. Don't, and..." his golden eyes shifted to the side, brow arching with an unspoken implication. "... well, you're a smart girl." An awkward moment of silence followed before the man turned, giving a wave by the wiggling of his fingers, and walked away into the desert with his cohorts.

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv rp #ffxiv oc #balmung #ffxiv-crystal-rp #crystal-rp-ffxiv #crystalroleplaying

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lake-arrius-caverns · 3 years

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Nerevarine Rising

Chapter 3: Balmora

summary Fahjoth finds himself back in a place he once called home. He has somewhere to be, but first, a chance encounter makes his day.

content warnings none explicit for this chapter

tag list @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

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The road northwest to Balmora turned out to be quite a long one. Fahjoth was on edge for much of the journey; he had departed Seyda Neen with nothing but the prison rags on his back and the delivery he was to take to Caius Cosades. He was unarmed, unarmoured and weak with hunger and exhaustion. By some grace of the gods, however, he encountered no real danger on the way. The worst thing to cross his path was a bloated maggot-like creature that hopped after him with a surprisingly sprightly gait and attempted to fasten its gaping, circular mandibles around his ankle. A few good hard kicks and stomps were fortunately enough to deal with the disgusting creature, and Fahjoth continued on his way.

By the time he neared Balmora the rain had finally stopped, but a thick mist, stained a fiery amber with the setting of the sun, lay over the town and surrounding wilderness. The first thing Fahjoth noticed was the towering legs of the town’s silt strider, occasionally emitting its melancholy howl that caused the hairs on Fahjoth’s arm to stand on end.

Filled with awe, he passed under the archway at the town’s entrance, and his eyes were wide as he strained to catch every detail that Balmora offered. It was just as he remembered it. Shops and houses lined the streets, with the town’s residents going about their business and the golden-helmed guards pacing to and fro, brandishing flaming torches that cast an aura of orange light as the sky continued to grow darker. He made his way through the town, his feet almost carrying him automatically along a route that had been committed to memory long ago until he found himself facing the Odai River that cut through the centre of Balmora. Now, which way was the South Wall Cornerclub?

As he began wandering onwards, the sound of rapid footfalls reached his ears, growing louder and louder in a matter of seconds. And before Fahjoth could even think about reacting, a figure suddenly burst out of the alleyway to his left, taking a sharp turn and running straight into him. His shoulder exploded with pain as the figure collided with him, hard, knocking him clean off his feet and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

With his nerves already frayed and tiredness hitting him hard, Fahjoth was quick to berate the clumsy bastard. “Watch where you’re going, mate! Nearly fucking took me out!”

“Yeah, well you—!” The Dunmer’s retort died midway through being uttered, as Fahjoth suddenly grabbed them by the shoulders and turned them to see their face. The moment he had heard that voice, his heart began to race. But he had to know for sure.

Sure enough, his jaw nearly hit the ground as he locked eyes with his twin.

“Ribyna?!” he gasped, barely able to believe what he was seeing. She donned a loose cloak over her head and the lower half of her face was concealed by a scarf, but she was unmistakable.

“Fahjoth?!” Ribyna seemed just as shocked as Fahjoth did, but as Fahjoth pulled her into a hug, she was strangely reluctant to participate and instead endeavoured to free herself. Fahjoth was having none of it, however.

“You’re alive!” he cried, his eyes already welling up with tears of relief and joy. “Gods, I thought you were dead! What happened? What are you even doing he—“

Soon he could no longer ignore Ribyna’s struggling, which was at first rather hurtful — but then his eyes fell on something glittering on the ground a short distance away that Ribyna was desperate to reach.

“Is that a diamond—?!”

“Shut up!” Ribyna finally managed to escape and hastily scooped up the sparkling gems that she had dropped, spending a moment to dust both herself and the diamonds off. It was then that a cry was heard ringing over the otherwise quiet town:

“Thief!! I’ve been burgled! Guards!”

“Shit.” Ribyna extended an arm towards Fahjoth to help him to his feet, an offer which he accepted, albeit with bemusement. “Okay, play along, alright?” she requested, pulling her scarf down so that it hung casually around her neck. Fahjoth opened his mouth to question her, but Ribyna interrupted him, speaking loudly while throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Ah, so where was it you wanted to go? The South Wall Cornerclub, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Fahjoth started, but Ribyna didn’t seem to be paying attention. She had already set off, dragging Fahjoth along with her and steering him over the bridge, going at a deliberately relaxed pace so as not to attract the attention of the patrolling guards.

“Yeah, I can show you where that is. Come on, it’s just over here.”

The twins walked in silence for the remainder of the short trip, and only once they reached the cornerclub and slipped inside did Ribyna finally let go of Fahjoth. “Oh, thank the gods for that. I was hoping to be back here before she noticed — you proper fucked that up for me, Fahji boy!”

“Ribyna, what the fuck’s going on?” Fahjoth started in bewilderment. Ribyna dropped her hood, staring up at Fahjoth with a small grin.

“I can explain. But first of all, I think I owe you a hug, don't I?”

“Damn right you do!” Fahjoth agreed, grabbing his sibling and pulling her into another tight embrace, one which she didn’t pull away from this time. For the first time in many weeks, Fahjoth felt at peace. To discover that his sibling was still alive, and to be reunited at last as free people filled him with complete and utter joy.

After a few moments they pulled away, and Ribyna gestured for him to accompany her as she made her way through the halls and down the stairs of the cornerclub. Fahjoth followed suit, and she led him down to a dimly lit room which he surveyed with interest; several tables and chairs were spread throughout and an older man stood at the bar, wiping down the surface with a cloth. The cornerclub’s patrons sat or stood with their drinks, all of them eyeing Fahjoth as he entered the room with either suspicion or curiosity or a combination of the two.

Ribyna sat down at a nearby table and Fahjoth followed suit, already opening his mouth and chattering away. “I honest to the gods thought you were dead, Beebs. How did you end up here, of all places? And...” He dropped his voice to utter the next question. “Did you really steal those diamonds?”

Ribyna shrugged. “I’m working.”

”Working? What kind of job has you running around robbing people?”

“Don’t go mad, alright? But I joined the Thieves Guild.”

“You what—?” Fahjoth leaned across the table, his voice a low hiss. “Haven’t you had enough crime for one lifetime?”

“Well, I had to make some coin somehow!” Ribyna dismissed Fahjoth’s protests with a wave of her hand. “Anyway! You wanted to know how I got here? Well, when they took me from my cell, I thought that was it, y’know? I thought I was gonna die. Then they put me on a carriage, and then a boat, and then I ended up here. Well, in Seyda Neen.”

Ribyna’s story was sounding ominously familiar. “And then what?” Fahjoth prompted her.

“Well, then they told me I had to be recorded at the office. They asked for my details, and get this... they asked if I was you.”

Fahjoth blinked, baffled. “You what?”

“Yeah, I know right? I know we’re twins but we don’t look that similar, for fuck’s sake. Anyway, they said I was the wrong prisoner — which was just fucking lovely — and they were gonna send me back to Cyrodiil. Well, I wasn’t having that, so I legged it. Makes sense that they finally hauled you over here as well.”

Fahjoth was silent for a few seconds as he mulled over Ribyna’s tale. “That’s mad,” he said eventually. “So it was just a big mixup?”

“Yup. So I suppose, in a way, I owe you my life!” Ribyna flashed him a grin from across the table. “Maybe one day I’ll pay you back for that.”

“Well, you can start by buying me a drink,” Fahjoth groaned. “I’m knackered.”

“Yeah, you look it,” Ribyna agreed grimly. “You got anywhere to stay?”

“Not yet,” Fahjoth admitted. “But I’ve got to find someone. Bloke called Caius Cosades. I need to give some stuff to him.”

Ribyna raised a brow. “So that’s what this whole thing is about? They pulled you out of prison just so that you can be an errand boy?”

“Maybe. Nobody’s told me fuck all,” Fahjoth huffed. Now that he was feeling relatively comfortable, he was ready to vent his frustrations. “I’ve just been told what to do and sent on my way. I’m so confused! And apparently, these orders have come from the Emperor himself. He’s the one who dumped me here — well, the both of us, technically.”

“Bastard. Well, I s’pose we shouldn’t complain too much,” Ribyna reasoned. “If he hadn’t, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“That’s true. I’m just...” Fahjoth waved a hand in exasperation. “I just wish someone would explain to me why I’ve been sent here. Surely anyone could be Caius Cosade’s delivery boy.”

“Aww, don’t put yourself down, Fahji, I’ll bet you’re a great little delivery boy,” Ribyna teased with a wicked grin. “Who is this Caius fella, anyway? I’ve never heard of him.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. D’you know who might know where to find him?”

“Have you tried Bacolus?”

“I— you know I haven’t, I’ve only just got here.”

Ribyna pouted in thought. “Huh... oh yeah. Well, maybe try asking him — he’s the owner, he should know. Bacolus Closcius. He knows everything else that goes on around here. He’s probably upstairs.”

“Alright. Cheers, Beebs. I’ll do that.” Fahjoth dragged himself to his feet as Ribyna did the same. He didn’t hesitate to pull her into another hug, which she gladly returned in kind. “Gods, it’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise, bro.” Ribyna pulled back, giving him a hearty clap on the shoulder. “I’ll be here if you need me, alright? And I’ll get you that drink, too. You’ll have to fill me in about this Caius bloke!”

“I will!” Fahjoth promised, constantly looking over his shoulder and waving at Ribyna as he departed. He was reluctant to leave her again so soon, but the knowledge that she was there and very much alive reassured him immensely. Besides, it was already late — he should at least try to find Caius Cosades before nightfall. “See you!”

“See you later.”

———————————————

As Fahjoth left the cornerclub there was still a thin veil of mist hovering over Balmora, but the sky was almost completely dark now, and the light breeze that slipped between buildings brought with it a slightly bitter chill. The directions given to him by Bacolus Closcius were relatively straightforward to follow, and for that Fahjoth was relieved. All the walking he’d already done today — as well as the violent collision with Ribyna that had knocked him off his feet — had left him aching and desperate to finally find somewhere to settle for the night.

But as he reached what he assumed to be Caius Cosade’s abode, he suddenly stopped, feeling as though he had been punched in the gut. He recognised that tiny house, sitting so nonchalantly at the end of the street. How could he not? Though it had been well over a decade since he last clapped eyes on it, it was unmistakably the same house that he and Ribyna had grown up in. Fahjoth was motionless as he was suddenly bombarded by an onslaught of resurfacing memories.

“Dad, can we go down to the river again today?”

“Hmm... ah, why not. Let me finish brushing your sister’s hair first, then I’ll have to do yours.”

“Nooo!”

“Fahjoth, we have to, it looks like something a guar coughed up. Right, come here!”

“No! You can’t catch me!”

“Haha! Maybe not, but I know someone who can. Get him, Ribyna!”

After taking a moment to recover himself, Fahjoth raised a hand and rapped his knuckles against the dense wooden door. For a few moments there was no response, and in the silence that followed Fahjoth began to wonder if he had tried the right house after all. But then came the sound of a muffled lock clicking and the door was cracked open an inch, and he took that as his cue to enter, cautiously pushing it open and stepping inside.

Fahjoth was yet again thrown a curveball, freezing for a few seconds as he was halfway over the threshold and quickly averting his eyes. What was it with Morrowind throwing buff, shirtless men at him every few hours? But the man in question, who seemed completely unabashed, ushered him inside and closed the door after him.

“Sorry— sorry for walking in on you,” Fahjoth began to babble, embarrassed. “I can come back later, or tomorrow—!”

But the balding Imperial silenced him with a single wave of his hand. “Nevermind that. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

As he scanned the room for a distraction, Fahjoth began to notice what kind of state it was in. Books and empty bottles littered the floor, and even in the low light of the lantern on the table, he could see something very suspiciously pale and grainy in a bowl sitting next to it. Fahjoth grimaced; this surely couldn’t be the right man. Not who the Emperor had sent him to Morrowind to find...

“Sorry,” he apologised again. “I was looking for a man called Caius Cosades. I was told to report to him.”

To his immense surprise, the man folded his arms and nodded. “Yes, I’m Caius Cosades. Who told you to report to me?”

Once again, Fahjoth was floored. His eyes darted once more around the room, taking in the sheer mess he was faced with, which said more than enough about its occupant. Then, finally, his gaze returned to the man — Caius Cosades himself. Why in Oblivion had he been sent to report to an old skooma addict?

“I’ve... I’ve got something for you,” Fahjoth mumbled, holding out the package he had been entrusted with. He was still somewhat hesitant to believe that the man he was looking at was indeed Cosades, but what was he supposed to do? Argue with the man over his own identity? That would go down well.

Cosades took the package, shooting Fahjoth a brief squint before turning his back and busying himself with inspecting and opening the package. Fahjoth waited, wringing his hands and feeling almost afraid to so much as breathe in this cramped, cluttered room; quite frankly, despite being much older, Cosades looked as if he could easily break Fahjoth’s neck, and considering the amount of alcohol and skooma lying around he couldn’t completely discount this possibility. So he waited, until at last Cosades turned back, his expression stern.

“Very interesting. So. You’re Fahjoth Vetharys, correct?”

“Yessir.”

Cosades waved a scrap of parchment as he spoke. “It says here the Emperor wants me to make you a Novice in the Blades. And that means following my orders. Are you ready to follow my orders, Fahjoth?”

“The Blades...?” Fahjoth had a feeling he already knew exactly what the Blades were, but he had to be sure. But Cosades’ response confirmed his suspicions.

“We're spies. We're the Emperor's hidden eyes and ears in the provinces. We watch the Emperor's enemies. We look for opportunities. We make reports. And, when the Emperor commands, we obey. Now... Are you ready to join the Blades and follow my orders, as the Emperor commands?”

“Right…” Fahjoth dropped his gaze to the ground, his brows furrowed in a deep frown. So not only had he been released from prison and sent to another province, but he was expected to join what was — by the sounds of it — the ranks of the Emperor’s top-secret, elite agents? Fahjoth, a Dunmer who could barely read, had spent six years in prison and had no specialist training or magical ability?

Fahjoth tried to put into words how ridiculous this seemed, how incredibly outlandish the concept of recruiting him to the Blades really was, but instead, infuriatingly, what came out of his mouth was “Yessir.”

“Excellent. Welcome to the service, Novice Fahjoth. Now you belong to the Blades. I’m sure you and I will be friends in no time. You can sleep here if you need to rest, but leave my personal stuff alone unless I say otherwise.”

The look on Fahjoth’s face said more than enough, and Cosades was quick to notice. “You’ve got questions, then? Let’s hear it.”

Fahjoth nodded, clearing his throat to gather his nerves before he spoke. “Yeah, um... I just... Why?” He struggled to hide the frustration he felt now, and winced as he heard it creep into his voice. “Why have I been sent here, and why am I joining the Blades? I don’t mean to sound rude, sir, but nobody’s told me nothing at all since I got here. I’m not... I don’t have any real strengths or skills or anything like that. I’m really just... nobody.”

“All in good time, Novice. First of all, we should get you settled before we start on your orders.” Cosades paused to prop open a strongbox on the shelf behind him, from which he fished out a rather fat coinpurse and tossed it over to Fahjoth, who struggled to catch it without dropping it. The sudden weight was surprising, and Fahjoth felt his stomach lurch as Cosades went on. “First thing, pilgrim. You're new. And you look it. Here's 200 drakes to get yourself a decent weapon. Or armor. Or a spell. Or whatever it is you feel most comfortable with.” He stopped again to evaluate Fahjoth, eyeing him from head to foot with a frown. “Get some proper food in you as well, you’ll no doubt need to be in top physical condition for some of the tasks you’re given.”

The slight insult that came from Cosades’ insinuation was completely overridden by Fahjoth’s sheer amazement at the amount of gold he now held in his hands. 200?! That was more gold than he’d ever laid eyes upon in his entire life!

“Thank you, sir,” Fahjoth said, still in a state of disbelief following the night’s events and developments.

“Secondly, you’ll need a cover identity,” Cosades continued. “Around here, ‘freelance adventurer’ is a common profession, believe it or not. Or, you can join a guild for some proper work. Sign on with the Fighters Guild, or Mages Guild, or Imperial cult, or Imperial legion, and gain skill and experience. Or go out on your own, look for freelance work, or trouble. What you do makes no odds to me, as long as you come back in one piece with more experience than you went out with. When you're ready, I'll have real orders for you." He stepped forward, closing the gap between them and clapping Fahjoth rather forcefully on the shoulder. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Vetharys. But first of all, you should get some rest. Like I mentioned, you’re welcome to stay here, as long as you don’t touch my stuff.”

“Alright,” Fahjoth replied with haste, more than willing to agree to that. Cosades intimidated him slightly, though he would never admit that to anybody — least of all Ribyna, who would no doubt have had a field day teasing him about it. How he was ever going to explain any of this to her remained to be seen, but he decided to ponder that tomorrow; the itching of his eyes reminded him of how desperate he was for a nap. “If you don’t mind, sir, I’m gonna try and get some sleep then. Been a... bit of a long day, y’know?”

“Certainly. Here.” Cosades grabbed some of the sheets and pillows from his bed, tossing them over to Fahjoth — again, without any warning, leaving Fahjoth to scramble desperately to catch them all. “It’s not much I’m afraid, but it’ll do for now.”

“Course, sir. Thanks.” Though he was still feeling rather apprehensive as he arranged his new bed on the floor in the corner of the room, Fahjoth was in deep reflection as he bid his new boss goodnight and settled down to sleep. Although things weren’t much clearer now compared to when he had first been taken from the Imperial Prison, he had a lot to be thankful for; his twin was alive and well, and on top of being a free man, Fahjoth now also had a job, an allowance of gold and a roof over his head — a far cry from the life he used to live, even before his six-year-long incarceration. With this in mind, his last thought before he drifted off was to just take each day as it came — no matter how much more confusion or how many surprises may yet lay ahead.

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #caius cosades #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfiction #tes iii: morrowind

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orkzrul3 · 3 years

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nasha's journal #1

Today is going to be good I think it's been A little under three years since I have set off on my own Venturing from settlement to settlement. As of currently I'm staying in the step right inn Located in the Port City of Briar Glen. I was feeling a little tired today as I could not sleep great the night before .So for my workout today I only did 100 push-ups 100 sit-ups and 100 squats Instead of my regular 250 Of each.

Then I went downstairs And had breakfast 12 pancakes with all the usual dressings like always. After a hearty meal I usually like to Take a walk down by the pier and look at all the passing ships. After a time I had decided to go down to the shopping district And Look at the plate Armor on display in the blacksmith It is polished to a mirror shine and I can see my orcish features in the steel. Steel so well Smithed that nary Bastard Sword or arrow and all of the land of Azrael Could Pierce its exterior

But alas 1500 gold pieces is far too Expensive. I'd wager to bet if I were the best adventurer in In the city It would take me an entire year so that kind of coin. Just as that thought crossed my mind I had realized that I was getting hungry. So I had decided to stop back in to where I was staying to eat lunch They they were serving mutton so I Ordered the largest Leg They had.

After that it was around 3 p.m. so I had Decided to Go up to my room And pray for Thor's blessing. After that it was about 3:30 And My throat was getting dry So I had decided to go downstairs and quench my thirst at The bar. It was Quite busy at the inn People were bustling about enjoying late lunches and early dinners; I walked up to the bartender a man by the name of Gregory And requested the strongest drink he had.

And for any Tips on where I could find Work he kindly directed me to the job board across the room from the bar.

Just then An Athletically built Elven woman had walked Up to the bar and I ordered a cold glass of water She then proceeded to drink it like a shot. I said I “Wow...I like your style ,my name is Nasha What is yours?” She said her name was Astra And explained that she was also a woman of the cloth Who worshiped Helm

Just then we Had both noticed a rabbit Folk Who seemed to be very hyperactively Hopping around the Inn bothering many of the patrons. Just then I approached her which Seemed to make her nervous. Although she was very interested in my Winged helm. Which I was gifted by The clergy of my temple When I had set off on my adventure. In addition to my Warhammer Which I had learned that I had a natural ability with from an early age. She was Wielding a Quarterstaff And as she was presenting it a sharp blade of ice formed at one end And I stepped back a little bit in Surprise.

All three Of us had seen a job posted by the golden Covenant which entailed going to the town of Farwater A small fishing Village Which Had been experiencing Bandit attacks for one reason or another and doing away with said Ne'er-do-wells.

Just then the guild leader of the golden Covenant Walked into The very same inn that We were staying at her name was Hollan A stunningly tall and Incredibly muscular Breathtakingly beautiful half-orc Woman Adorned in shiny golden plate armor. And Tado had the Brilliant idea Of bothering her while she was enjoying a drink at the bar. I quickly stopped this and Barely manage to get out a very shaky apology.

Hollan asked If we were interested in the job I said yes again Very shakily My voice trembling with every word. That feeling was a very strange mix of desire and intimidation Something which I had never Felt before. I decided it would be preferable to Hide myself behind Astra To save myself at least a tiny bit of embarrassment and leave with A shred of my dignity intact.

And so we Headed out And Took a wagon provided by the golden covenant about a day and a half during which time we made light conversation and got to know each other eventually made it to The town of farwater proper. As soon as we did however we were accosted by a Duo of Bandits Although Astra punched one of them out and I had scared the other one off.

When we got there The streets were completely empty the marketplace that was usually bustling with activity was Barron and cold breeze blew in and took a tumble weed with it which is weird because We are nowhere near The Crimson desert.

All three of us had decided to take different routes Astra had decided to shout And call out for a residents. Tado Had thought it wise to Go from house to house wrapping on every door. As for me I decided It might be a wise idea to Check out the town hall.

As I proceed very cautiously I saw a small face peeking out of one of the windows Just Then tado Thought it might be a good idea to Ram The door full speed with her staff Although she stopped short and the door opened to reveal a Halfling Woman by the name of Vaora Hillbough Who was the mayor of the town.

Her voice was shaky and she was reluctant to give us information she said that Bandits were Ram sacking The Village and they must have been looking for something in one of the shipments but she Did not have the foggiest idea of what. We explained we were with the golden Covenant and she opened up almost immediately she said that the bandits were holed up in a cave a little ways from town And that we should head there if we wanted to put a stop to them Vaora Said that anything we needed they'd be happy to give us. Tado asked if there was any candy the closest thing this town had was fish on a stick tado being Vegetarian of course turned It down Although Astra and I, Took two of them out of politeness.

As soon as I took a bite though I threw up a little bit in my mouth Although our elf companion seemed to be enjoying hers and asked if I was going to finish mine I handed it to her and then we set off.

Singing old folk songs about Dungeons And the dragons that could sometimes be found inside of them as we walked. Just As we had finished singing the one about how scary the Demogorgon is we made it to farwater cave. We hear faint voices from inside Astra almost announces our presence but before she can I put my hand in front of her mouth and put a stop to it. And then Tado as an actually brilliant idea And she stomps her foot faster and louder than I have seen anything of her kind do before so it was so loud in fact that it created a thunderous boom which bounced through the Narrow Chamber Of The Cave entrance and took out at least three of the bandits.

Before I enter the cave I also have a moderately smart idea The pendant around my neck begins to Glow and a thick sphere of fog emanates from it. as all three of us cautiously enter we are then confronted by An additional Trio of Marauders. Several events happen in quick succession first Tado Used her druidic magic to freeze the water in the Mist into ice freezing the criminals in place. Secondly Astra used Powerful fists to a dispatch one of them in a singular blow

Sensing what was about to happen the evil-doers tempted to free themselves from their icy prison but were unsuccessful.

Thirdly I Bashed Brains using my beautiful boisterous Wonderful Warhammer. And Finally Tado cast ice knife As these Blades of cold and frost sunk in to the Flesh of this Bandit and then exploded outwards viscera flew everywhere and flecks of blood got in Todo's Soft brown fur and as I gazed into her eyes the only thing I witnessed was Pure unfiltered Delight.

As we move through the cave we heard sounds of Someone searching for something faster and faster Their motion is getting more and more frantic and panicked as the three of us moved closer. Hold up my shield as we Very deliberately move through An area with several bedrolls. We make it down another narrow passageway to the final chamber of farwater Cave.

What We find in this room is the Bandit chief she is a man very frantic in his mannerisms and action he looks incredibly focused on finding whatever he's trying to fight and I walk out to him and say "looking for something”? Understandably he gets quite frightened by my presence From there Astra Scoops him up and puts him under her arm key is thrashing and trying to escape very desperately I say listen either way can kill you right now or if you can tell us what's going on here and we can bring you back to the golden Covenant for Hollan to deal with. So he explains he's looking for an orb Some “kind of magic” he says He explains that She is worried that they are going to get his family also she would not explain who They were exactly.

Just then Astra finds that there is a secret compartment under one of the chests. she opens it To find an orb it Floats inside of container glows blue And Sparks a bit. Just then we hear the clatter of two sets of bony fish walking toward us two skeletons with evil grimaces and glowing green eyes Paralyzed us with some kind of poison darts Slaughtered the Bandit Chief In Cold Blood and make off with the orb.

So currently I am sitting paralyzed In between a very Punchy elf and a sort of bloodthirsty rabbit And I don't know where the rest of my day is going to go from here guess I'll find out soon enough.

#dnd 5th edition #d&d 5e #d&d half orc #half orc #dnd cleric #fantasy #ttrpg stuff

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talesfromthecycle · 4 years

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Vengeful Chapter 3: “Outburst

Nessa jolted awake with the sound of metal clashing and echoing from beneath her in the tower’s floors below. With a glance over she saw that Mair’s bed was already empty and a clear mess had been made on the path to the stairs. Without a second thought, she leapt out of bed and rushed down the spiral stairs until the context of the situation revealed itself.

Mair stood poorly fitted into a chestplate with a clutter of ornate decorative weapons strewn across the stone floor in front of him. He looked disheveled and energetic as he held a silver tipped pike in one hand while struggling to adjust the unfitted armor that he wore.

Nessa sighed both with relief and annoyance. She glanced out of an open slit in the tower wall to see the crystal lights of the city were still fairly dim, “What are you doing messing with all of this stuff so early in the morning?” Nessa lightly scolded through a yawn as she stepped down the stairs approaching her little brother.

“Sorry sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. You said we could go to the guild on your day off and I couldn’t sleep last night and-” Mair lit up with excitement, interrupting himself as he tripped over the clutter around him, undoing a majority of the straps on his chestplate.

“I know I know, we’re going. But we can’t just take anything from the manor. If someone recognizes anything from here, we can get in trouble. Besides, the guild will provide what we need for the exams.” Nessa calmly explained as she tied her long hair into a ponytail and proceeded to clean up the mass of decorative weapons that littered the floor.

Mair stood, eventually sitting down on the cold stone floor to undo the rest of the straps of the armor hanging off of him. Prying the plate of metal off his chest, he brought his knees up to his chest and studied the point of the pike. The carved designs have long since faded. The only discernible mark were a pair of initials carved in the elvish language, KM.

His sister looked up from the cleaning up to see him sulked upon the ground, she quietly released a sigh under her breath and stood over Mair nudging him on the shoulder, “You can bring the pike.” Her brother returned to his lit up expression which infectiously spread to Nessa, “Just don’t break it again, I’m going to start charging you for mending that thing back together.”

Mair leapt to his feet and gave Nessa a quick hug before rushing down the stairs, “Thanks sis! I’ll be careful this time!”

Nessa was left alone in the middle of the tower with the scattered armor and weapons still surrounding the floor. Mumbling to herself, she settled to deal with the mess later as she returned up the stairs to get ready to leave for the guild. Before she made it up the stairs, she noticed an armor stand that her brother had dragged in and knocked over. An idea popped into her head as she quickly gathered her tome and wand from her satchel and headed back down to the cluttered floor.

Deep breaths, in and out. Nessa flipped through the pages of her tome as she stumbled down the stairs above the room. She ended her search near the beginning of the tattered book and kept her finger locked to the page. She held the tome in one hand while the other guided her through the details of the spell, her wand forced to remain held in her teeth while she situated herself. Finally she grounded herself and held the tome open while her wand aimed to the knocked over armor stand.

Nessa’s gaze nervously shifted from her target to her tome until focus finally found her and her breathing slowed. A violet shine radiated from her wand and wrapped the magical apparatus and her wrist in a faint glow, wavering and encompassing like a bubble blown in a slight wind. The purple glow slowly crawled from the point of the wand through the air, approaching the armor stand like a snake to its prey. The glowing cloud of mana swallowed the wooden frame little by little until it too was encompassed by the faint fog.

Her hands shook ever so slightly as she raised her tome hand in an arc, her breaths became more erratic as she made the motion. With her motion, the armor stand slowly picked itself up with a slight tremble. Nessa’s grip tightened over her wand as she noticed the slight trembling grow fiercer. Struggling to correct the situation as she failed to find breaths. Her focus was lost in an instant as the armor stand dropped back to the ground, with the violet mist fading away into the air.

Silence fell over the room, the page of the tome crinkled slightly and the grip on Nessa’s wand tightened to a near snapping point. In a lashing outburst, Nessa whipped her arm as a threat to throw her wand against the stone wall. In the same moment, a scarlet and violet flash of energy washed over her hand, the armor stand was thrown across the room at the wall.

Nessa jumped back as the wooden frame shattered against the wall. She briefly stood in confusion and awe at what she did before a stinging feeling stung at her wrist. A shallow scar started at the base of her palm and ran down her wrist with intense pain. With a swear mumbled under her breath, Nessa covered the strange scar and returned upstairs to prepare, silently vowing to clean up the mess later without a word to her brother.

In less than a half hour, Nessa stepped outside ready to join her brother on the short trek to the guild. She pulled back the long sleeve of her jacket and checked the scar on her wrist, it had faded surprisingly fast but a faint outline of it still remained.

“Gods, what took you so long? I felt like I’ve been waiting forever.” Mair complained leaning onto the metal fence with the pike slung over his back. He opened the gate and kept the lead throughout their walk across the system of bridges to reach the heart of Eil’Drawwt.

“Quit your whining,” Nessa playfully shoved him forward and adjusted her newly repaired satchel, “I have much more to worry about than just lugging around metal on a stick.”

“Psh, Whatever.” Mair scoffed and rolled his eyes, but got distracted as they approached the first bridge. He sped ahead and leaned over the ledge to look at the guildhall down in the ravine. “I still can’t believe we’re gonna get an apprenticeship at the guild.” He remarked with giddy anticipation.

“You’re awfully confident, just do your best in whatever test they throw at you and it should work out just fine.” Nessa giggled and continued past her brother.

“You think they’ll actually extend the invitation for the both us, sis? I’d feel pretty bad if I just swooped in to take your chance.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about that? Hell, I think you’d be lucky without me constantly fussing over you.” Nessa shifted to a babying voice to tease her younger brother.

“Bleugh, you’re right. You’re better off as a mom than an adventurer.” He teased back as they both laughed over the exchange. Playfully bickering as they made their light trek through the morning traffic of the city.

In a matter of time they arrived at the main entrance of the guild hall. The bridge led forward through a path lit with mana fueled flames to an opened grand door made of an olive colored wood framed with silver edging. A flank of armed and helmed guards checked the emblems of each soul passing through. The traffic picked up to an extreme hustle as the hundreds of adventuring teams awoke to set upon what quests were laid before them for the next day, week, or even few months.

Nessa paused briefly which inclined her brother to stop and check as well, “Everything alright, sis?” He asked with a hint of concern.

“Yes yes, I’m alright.” Nessa laughed it off and continued forward towards the entrance, keeping a tight grip on her satchel as the guards took notice of the two visitors without emblems.

The guards were lightly armored from the shoulders down, but the steel helms they wore formed the visage of a surface beast that gazed diligently as if prey stepped before them. The grip on their spears remained firm as one had approached to address the two strangers. “Hail, what business have you sought?”

Nessa froze for a moment, before finally clearing her throat and responding, “We were invited for an apprenticeship opportunity. Specifically by a demifai named Hela.”

Silence fell over the conversation for a mere moment, the guards looked to each other as if confused, “You said you were invited by Hela? As in the leader of the Crimson Shield?”

The elven half siblings’ hearts stopped at the same moment, they remained stunned until Nessa finally snapped back and responded through nervous stammering, “Uh, well yes. We met a few days back, and um, she failed to mention her status at the guild to be entirely honest.”

“Ah, right.” The guard remained stalwart but spoke with slight doubt in his voice, “Follow me and I’ll set you up to meet with Director Veridan to sort this all out. He handles the apprenticeship program.”

The guard waved the siblings forward and they both nervously nodded and followed several paces back.

“Are you serious Nessa?” Mair leaned in and whispered to his still panicked sister, “What could you have done to impress the highest ranked adventurer around these parts?” He pressed on with shock and denial with hidden fascination.

“I didn’t do anything I swear,” Nessa whispered back, matching her brother’s tone of bewilderment, “I didn’t even piece it together that she was from Team Crimson Shield, gods I had no idea. I should’ve seriously noticed.”

The two continued to wrap their heads around the situation but Nessa’s attention is turned away as they traverse through the guild hall. The brick stone floors echoed with their footsteps as their paths were lit by sapphire flames from the torches on the marble walls and pillars. The duo made their first steps into the main hall which expanded to connect the entire guild. A spiral staircase led down through every floor of the fortress as the bustle of workers, guards, and guild members all worked to form the perfect image. Cogs in an efficient machine, the portrait that matched the wild expectations of the life of adventure Nessa had dreamed of since she was a little girl. She stood in the middle of it all, a moment she had dreamed but never expected.

“Hey, you good?” Mair had snapped her out of her daydream.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nessa smiled back to him and gestured to the scene around them, “It’s just a little surreal this whole situation is, I still can’t believe I’m standing here right now.”

Before Mair could respond, the guard had stepped aside as he led the others to their destination. Standing confidently and with his hands delicately and politely held behind his back, a night elf man who looked to be in his 15th decade, yet still possessing of a fierce glare and fit form. The individual kept a stern stare focused on the two siblings as he took notice of them.

“I am ecstatic to hear of your enthusiasm over The Hidden Star guild,” His words were kind but they were spoken with a lack of intent and emotion that failed the impact of his greeting, “I hope you enjoyed your tour, unfortunately it appears there was a mistake. I’ve heard nothing from the Guildmaster or Lady Krisofft about such a circumstance. Go ahead, on your way now.”

“What!? My sister was invited by Hela to join the guild, you can’t just send us away without confirming anything!” Mair retorted back, upset by the older elf’s rude attitude.

“I have all the confirmation I need, every morsel of thought and information passes through me first you see,” The Director continued to talk down to Mair as Nessa stood in a nervous silence, “I hope this misunderstanding can be swept under the rug and forgotten, completely. Now shoo.”

“Please, sir,” Nessa spoke up but choked up slightly as the full attentive gaze of The Director shifted to her, “We’ll be willing to leave as you wish, but if you could give us any benefit of the doubt, we’d be immensely appreciative.” She concluded, waiting to be shut down when his response was cut off by a shout from across the grand room.

“Hey Saul!” A cheerful voice rang that turned the conversation in its direction. Hela had waved and greeted the group from afar and approached alongside a short and stout old dwarf dressed in a long coat and a braided black beard that reached down to his chest. “Oh cool, looks like you met Nessa already. And this must be her brother, now the both of you can join in. A pleasure to meet you dude.” She waved to Mair who stood starstruck but ended up nervously waving back to her.

The Director cleared his throat before addressing the intrusion, “Forgive me Ms. Krisofft, are you saying that you recognize these two?” He shifted to a much more polite tone as he spoke to Hela.

“Well duh, I already told Guildmaster everything.” She obliviously responded with a grin on her face while the dwarf next to her nodded.

“Guildmaster,” The director’s voice heightened in pitch with disbelief and annoyance over the situation, “Is it true you knew of this and did not inform your trusted advisor?”

The dwarf scratched at his head for a moment and pondered, “I think I might’ve forgotten to ol’ chap. No harm done in the end, start some trials for these youths,” The dwarf turned to face Nessa and Mair, “Hela here told me the two of you couldn’t make it to the last apprenticeship exams, the least I could do to alleviate the incredible debt we owe to her is to give that chance to you both.” The Guildmaster laughed heartily and offered a handshake to the two siblings, both accepted graciously. “Good luck on your trials, I’m afraid I have an unimaginable and taxing duty to attend to. Paperwork.” He laughed once more and left on his own path.

Director Veridan stood silently during the exchange. He sighed and addressed the siblings once more with a seemingly forced smile on his face. “It looks like there was a lack of communication in the end here, follow me to the guild’s training grounds. There we can test your mettle to see if you’re both a fit here at our guild as apprentices. I hope we can put this misunderstanding behind us.”

Mair scoffed and rolled his eyes but Nessa accepted the apology with a smile and half bow. The director led the way through the winding halls of the guild as the siblings followed with Hela close behind to observe the trials for herself. Passing the personal quarters of the guild members and the multitude of facilities available, the group eventually reached an open aired battleground that led to a beautiful underview of the city built on the ravine.

Several teams of adventurers gathered together there to spar and practice drills in the expansive space provided to them. Nessa observed in awe at the battles that raged on the field before her. The combatants for the most part fought with wooden training weapons except for a couple that caught Nessa’s eye. A demiserpus with a copper blade held in one hand while the other was held behind his back sparred and kept the defensive against a full blooded serpus, a scaled snake like man with a long tail, who pursued his target with a steel two handed axe. The two battled with ferocity and without fear of the sharpened weapons they lashed at each other while the group approached them.

“You two!” Director Veridan yelled over the commotion of the training grounds at the serpus and demiserpus. The two stopped their duel and as they paused, a green glow visibily radiated from their weapons. Nessa recognized the magical glow as a dulling enchantment that was customary for adventurers to use to spar or to spare their opponents.

“What’s the deal, Director? I was just about to close that victory out.” The demiserpus snarkily complained while resting the copper sword on his shoulder casually.

“A momentary interruption, I need one of you to spar this one here,” Veridan motioned to Mair who gripped at his pike ready to prove himself, Veridan’s hand waved over Mair and his weapon, the ring on The Director’s hand flashed with green sparks as the weapon was bathed in the same enchantment that the others possessed, “I’d prefer these makeshift trials are over quickly to not hinder my schedule. A short round of sparring will be enough for me to judge your potential.”

“You can do it, brother,” Nessa encouraged him before he stepped forward, “Do your best, and it’ll be enough. I’m sure of it.” Her brother gave a confident smile and nod in thanks as he stepped up to the snake-blooded duo.

The demiserpus sheathed his sword and stepped away from the soon to be battlefield, “Sounds good, boss. Go ahead and make it quick, Kross.” The serpus nodded and held his axe up with a deep breath.

The director stood off to the side as judge to the battle, his hands rose and he called for the duel to begin. Despite the command given, both combatants remained still. The serpus observed Mair for an opening while Mair waited for his opponent to make the first move. In a spontaneous moment, Kross pounced with his axe held behind him ready to swipe at his target. Mair lunged in response and jabbed the pike into the serpus’ open chest. Both of their weapons connected with their targets with a field of verdant aura that halted the blades from striking at their skin. Yet the concussive force of their attacks knocked each other back to square one.

They traded blows, back and forth, avoiding the clashing of their blades in favor of landing the strike that would finish the battle without care of the damage and wounds that would follow onto them. A vicious offense against unfailing counterattacks as each warrior refused to fall until their target was already on the ground.

“Gods, it’s like a wolf and its reflection. They keep going but just don’t make any progress but wear themselves out.” Nessa sighed and watched as the serpus and her brother both ended up going for an overhead strike, only to meet their blades and immediately disengage to go in with a new approach.

“That’s Kross for you,” Hela responded while keeping her gaze fixed on the battle, “He’s one of the apprentices that joined last year, he’s prone to going all in as you can probably tell.”

The fight approached its conclusion as Mair stumbled back with gasping breath. His grip loosened as he struggled to remain standing. Kross stood in a significantly better state and prepared to finish off the duel. He approached and reared back with his foot raised to kick Mair down.

Mair saw his opening and reached for it, his grip on his pike was released completely as the kick struck directly into his gut. Just before Mair was sent collapsing to the ground, he grappled onto Kross’ leg and tripped him off of his balance. The two of them crashed onto their backs at the same time with a loud thud.

“An impressive display,” The Director interjected as the two struggled to rise to their feet, “Once your sister finishes her part, I’ll prepare the written segment for the both of you. As for you Kross, and by extension Rex,” Director Veridan addressed Kross and the demiserpus on the sidelines, “Keep up with your training, I haven’t forgotten your recent failures.”

“Come on boss. You can’t hold this against us, that was a total fluke.” The demiserpus named Rex rebutted through gritted fanged teeth. Kross simply kept silent with his head low and returned to his teammates side.

“We’re not discussing this now.” Veridan dismissed the apprentices and led the group to an empty corner of the training grounds. “Now then, Nessa was it? I can sense the residue of mana on you, I can only assume you’re expecting a test of magic?”

Nessa paused while Veridan continued walking and stopped several meters away from her, “Yes, what should I do sir?” She stuttered slightly in her question as she reached for her tome and wand in preparation.

The Director raised his palm as a cyan bubble formed a shielding ward around him. The magic pulsed from the ring on his hand to form the abjuration in front of him, “I’ve created a weak shield around myself, cast against it from this distance to prove yourself.”

Nessa nodded and gazed at the target in front of her. She flipped through the pages of her tome and found a simple spell she could use to attack the ward The Director had put up. She raised her wand out in front of her to aim and focused to create a bolt of mana to fire off. Sparks and flashes of violet energy coalesced at the tip of Nessa’s wand to form an orb of erratic mana convulsing and ready to burst. With a deep breath and a moment of hesitation, the bolt of mana was loosed from her control and was flung at the ward. The bolt whizzed forward but lost its path and ended up careening into the air until an outside force suddenly paused its momentum completely. The bolt fizzled out in its paused state into nothing.

“Thank you Master Wright,” Veridan addressed someone near Hela and Mair that Nessa had not noticed. She turned back and saw standing close to Hela was a black coated human with curly scarlet hair and an eyepatch concealed over his right eye. The man said something to Hela but the words were blocked out as panic set in for Nessa. “Try one more time, Nessa.” Veridan waited for another attempt as Nessa’s hands began to shake. She struggled to find her rhythm as her wand rose once more and attempted to charge the bolt of mana. Nessa felt the whispering voices of those waiting for her to either pull through or fail miserably. Her heartbeat escalated to cloud her hearing as she felt the eyes of the entire training ground on her. Her focus was erratic and lost, the orb of mana she sent without consciously thinking had faltered in its path and hit Veridan’s ward with a pathetic gasp as it sizzled out of existence.

In an attempt she made without realizing, Nessa had failed and watched as Veridan’s ward was cast down. He said something and shook his head disappointingly. Nessa could not hear over her heartbeat. She believed to have seen Hela and the stranger turn their attention elsewhere to ignore the scene and saw her brother’s admiration burn away. Yet her head was locked forward and her focus could not leave what was in front of her. The dreams and hopes she carried through her life shattered and fell away into the abyss of doubt and failure.

The eyes that stared and looked down upon her seared upon her skin as a surge of mana rushed through her arm. Only her body knew what to do as her wand was dropped and a continuous beam of scarlet and violet magic poured out from her hand and pulsed towards Veridan like a bout of raging flame.

Veridan had barely noticed the beam approaching and recast the ward to shield himself. A flash and cloud of smoke enveloped the area. Nessa came back to her senses as the dust settled. She quickly pulled her now burnt sleeve up to reveal her scar had reformed and traced her veins all the way back to her upper arm. With quick movements she attempted to conceal the damage as she shifted her attention back to The Director. He stood shocked and yet wearing a smirk on his face. His ward was almost completely shattered from the devastating spell.

“Well done. You had me worried there for a moment, in more ways than one,” The ward dropped as he put his palm down, “Let’s move onto the written segment, afterwards I can show you to your new living quarters.” He added on confidently.

Nessa nodded and kept her arm pressed to her body hoping no one had noticed. Mair had rushed up to his sister with a tackling hug and lifted her up happily, “That was awesome, sis! I didn’t even know you could do something like that.”

“Yeah I have to say, I wasn’t expecting something like that at all,” Hela praised, “Even my teammate was surprised by that.” She attempted to refer to the man beside her, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “Huh, strange of him to disappear like that. Well good luck on the boring part of apprentice exams, I think I’d fall asleep if I tried to support you through that.” Hela giggled and waved goodbye to the siblings.

Nessa was put down by her brother and they both waved off Hela, “Thank you again for this opportunity.” Nessa showed her gratitude sincerely which warranted Hela’s fanged smile to shine through as she gave a wink of understanding before finally exiting.

The siblings proceeded to follow where Veridan had left off to but Mair suddenly paused in a panic, “Crap! I left the pike over on the battlefield, I’ll catch up just keep going!” He ran off which led Nessa to chuckle briefly as she left into the halls of the building.

Just as she was about to turn a corner, she felt a grip on her arm as her burnt sleeve fell to reveal her scarred arm. Nessa snapped to the assailant, the scarlet haired human who stood at Hela’s side. She jerked her arm away but the damage had already been done. The man with the eyepatch saw the strange scar in its entirety.

“Hey! What’s your problem?” Nessa attempted to hide the scar once more by crossing her arms and stepping away.

“Just confirming my suspicions,” The man who was called Wright answered, his voice was soft yet threatening as he brushed aside his blood red hair out of his good eye, “Don’t be so stupid in the future. What you pulled was no correct or effective way to cast. You could hurt yourself.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Nessa sarcastically dismissed the man and turned to walk away, she briefly looked back to find he had disappeared just as before. Nessa took one last look at the burning scar that traced her veins before finally leaving to follow The Director. The sting of the scar on her arm followed her throughout each step into her new life.

#adventure #tales from the cycle #vengeful #elves #underground #magic #fantasy #dwarves #chapter 3 #outburst #story #literature

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for-gold-and-glory · 5 years

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Weekly Events for 10/21 - 10/27

Here are some events G&G Members will be involved in during the week. Or just events that I think are really cool and you should definitely go to. If you’re interested in joining these events just show up or send a message to Aegir, Lirilith, or Aedwen Or join our discord: https://discord.gg/dCRSWTx Tuesday - Monday - World of Light: Requiem for a Dream Pt 3 @ 8:00pm EST - Eulmore, Khoulsia, Instance 1 Thursday - Tuesday - G&G Weekly: The Scent of Death Pt 3 @ 8:00pm EST - Lancers Guild, Old Gridania Friday - Primal Tour: The Navel Epilogue @ 7:30pm EST - Costa del Sol, Eastern La Noscea Saturday - World of Light: The Quest for Forbidden Knowledge Pt 4 @ 4:00pm EST - Dossal Gate, the Crystarium, Instance 1 Saturday - Reunion Market Night @ 7:00pm EST - Reunion, Azim Steppe [Mateus] Sunday - World of Light: Return of the King Pt 1 @ 4:00pm EST - Il Mheg Entrance, Instance 1 Sunday - Garlean Weekly: The Silver Coeurl Strikes Back: Finale @ 8:00 PM EST - Castrum Aquilonis (Mists Ward 4, Plot 31)

Tuesday - Monday - World of Light: Requiem for a Dream Pt 3 @ 8:00pm EST - Eulmore, Khoulsia, Instance 1 - Lirilith’s rescue goes completely to the dogs when, attending a debutant ball, the Sinners bear witness to one of Eulmore’s more gristly entertainment rituals: an ascension. The ascended is none other than Treasure Hunter and Eulmore socialite, Cassie, a friend to some of Lirilith’s rescuers. Now, facing down the newly turned Sin Eater, and being exposed as invaders and party crashers, the Sinners have to get the hell out of Eulmore. But it’s not going to be that easy, is it? It’s never that easy. Notes: This plot will replace the G&G weekly for the time being. Handle the time bubble as you want! ICly, the entire plot takes place over the first half of the summer. This will lead us into the First for additional RP. Everyone is welcome to join at any point. Alts/test characters welcome. Status: Open RP, please join us! Type: Adventure GM: Aegir

Thursday - Tuesday - G&G Weekly: The Scent of Death Pt 3 @ffxiv-crystal-rp 8:00pm EST - Lancers Guild, Old Gridania - What is the Curse of Gelmorra? The infected lancers in the Wailing Barracks along with the target of the curse have been placed under the care of the Padjal while the adventurers move forward to attack the curse at its source: the ruins of Gelmorra itself. But what lies beneath the Shroud? The halls of Gelmorra rage at the thought of letting one of their children out, how will they react to letting strangers in? Status: Open RP, please join us! Note: If you missed Part 1 & 2, you can easily join by replying to the call for help on the Lancer Guild’s linkshell Type: Action/Adventure GM: Aegir Friday - Primal Tour: The Navel Epilogue @ 7:30pm EST - Costa del Sol, Eastern La Noscea - Following their victory in the Navel, a mysterious benefactor has extended an invitation to a feast in La Noscea’s premiere resort, Costa del Sol. Think of it as a final hurrah for a job well done! Status: Open RP, please join us! Type: Social GM: Aegir Saturday - World of Light: The Quest for Forbidden Knowledge Pt 4 @ 4:00pm EST - Dossal Gate, the Crystarium, Instance 1 - The riddle of the Sphinx has been solved, the Sinner’s are about to gain hold of the Book of Shadows. A database containing all the knowledge of Allag’s research into the Void. Why is Delta seeking this tome and what can they learn from it to be used to their own advantage? Status: Closed Type: Investigation GM: Aegir Saturday - Reunion Market Night @ 7:00pm EST - Reunion, Azim Steppe [Mateus] - Reunion calls out to any and all merchants across the world to come ply their wares in the open market. Don't have anything to sell? Consider opening a booth for entertainment purposes such as traditional Steppe games or other activities to attract customers? Still nothing coming to mind, then feel free to come out and mingle with other visitors, eat, drink, shop and make new friends! Status: Open RP, come on down! Type: Market GM: Altanii Dotharl Sunday - World of Light Chapter 4: Return of the King @ 4:00pm EST - Il Mheg Entrance, Instance 1 - Rumor abounds that the Light in Il Mheg has cleared away, revealing the Night Sky as in Lakeland. A call from the Jotunn, Thiassi, lures the Sinners back into the Fae Land. Life is flourishing and returning to this world, but for how long? The Jotunn has a grave warning for the Sinners. And a new mission. Status: Open RP, come join us! Note: This is the start Chapter 4 and anyone can participate Type: Adventure/Investigation GM: Aegir Sunday - Garlean Weekly: The Silver Coeurl Strikes Back: Finale @ 8:00 PM EST - Castrum Aquilonis (Mists Ward 4, Plot 31) - An unlikely alliance with a Replicant calling the Aetherochemical Research Facility his home has yielded a weapon that may be used to neutralize the Silver Coeurl armor worn by the impostor who has claimed the name of Tribunus Neilas sas Seles of the Xth Legion. Now, the opportunity to use it and bring an end to the charade is finally in sight. The Tribunus is making an appearance in an Ilsabardian outpost for a Xth Legion rally in order to perform a speech. As this is a matter of national security, the Ith Legion has partenered up with S.T.E.L.L.A. to bring an end to this. While the brave men of the Ith keep the Xth occupied, the agents of S.T.E.L.L.A. are to defeat the false Tribunus. Failure is not an option. Status: Open to allies and agents of S.T.E.L.L.A. We're recruiting! Type: Action GM: Rafailleur Sangmarche

#weekly

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odderancyart · 5 years

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The Dark Brotherhood AU/Skyrim AU

Let’s see what Red is up to

Blackcherry. On AO3. The song can be found here

Warnings: blood, murder, suggestiveness

Evening was already falling as the city guards opened the gates to Riften. Red nodded at them, grinning, as they greeted him cheerfully. People in Riften were suspicious of outsiders, with all right, but he’d been coming here for years now and knew mostly everyone in the entire city. Though they didn’t know him as Red the assassin, no. To them, he was a travelling bard named Cherry. He’d even had a certificate from the Bard’s College in Solitude faked, just in case, and they had enough contacts within the college itself that he would be backed up if someone declared him a liar.

The streets were mostly empty this late. There were a few guards, a couple people straying toward the tavern, and some tradesmen packing up for the night. A child rushed past him, carrying a package of fish, and he saluted them, receiving a happy wave in return. Turning around the corner, he stepped up to the front door of The Bee and the Barb, his favourite tavern.

As he stepped in, the warmth washing over him, he quickly studied the room. The doors were easy to access, and lots of open surfaces, as always. Most of the people in here were half-drunk, except for the three people in Thieves’ Guild-armour playing cards in the corner. Those people ruled this city, Red knew, and controlled the Jarl’s every decision. The real power laid in the Ratways beneath Riften. The old sewers.

Within a second, he’d analysed the room, and found his target. The Jarl’s son, sitting together with those thieves, playing cards. Red’s client wanted him dead, and Red would deliver. Why, he hadn’t been told, but it was none of his business even though he could guess. He was a hopeless gambler who never paid up his debts.

No specifications on the method, only that it should happen in plain sight. That would crave finesse, if he didn’t want his prospects for future undercover visits to Riften to disappear, and admittedly, that was his brother’s forte, not his. Red was more of a beat them ‘til they die and throw them in a ditch-kind of assassin. But since he knew Riften better than anyone – even Razz and Slim who’d lived here for a while, since they’d been too young to explore – he’d been given this mission, and recruited Slim for assistance His fellow Brother was a good assassin on his own, but extraordinary when working together with someone.

At least, if it all went to hell, some of the thieves owed him.

Realizing that he’d showed up, Torbjörn, the red-bearded man behind the counter, waved. “Cherry! Nice to see you again, my friend. Had any adventures since your last visit?”

Heaving himself up on the table nearest to the counter, he shrugged, pulling down the lute he had tied to his back, next to his bow. A bow of his own design: it looked almost exactly like your average hunter’s bow but was ten times as powerful. He thrummed at the strings, tuning the instrument somewhat. “Nothin’ much, unless ya count only just escapin’ a pack o’ wolves near Dawnstar.”

“Oh those wolves,” a light voice commented. Maj, the owner of the tavern and Torbjörn’s wife, put down a mug full of ale next to him with a thump. “Always causing trouble.” She nodded toward the mug. “On the house.”

Of course it was. If they wanted a bard to play and lure in customers, they better not demand said bard pay for their own food. Nonetheless he nodded, smiling at her. “Thanks, ’preciate it.”

“Our pleasure, we’re always happy to see you.” She meant it too, which honestly only made Red’s reason to be here so much funnier. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy his visits in Riften, because he did, or their company, or the fact that he’d had them fooled for years, but the mere thought of what she’d say if she knew he was here for the Brotherhood, to assassinate the Jarl’s son in exchange for gold, made him grin.

“Watcha want me to play?” he asked, raising his voice. Requests rained down until he pulled his fingers over the strings, and the first tunes formed. A hush fell over the room. “From the mists of the mountains, a deafening call bellows over the plains. On a host of battle-worn ears does it fall, pushing out through the thunder and rain…”

Sovnagarde. The favourite song of many Nords. His voice was rough but strong and pleasant to listen to. Red knew he was a good singer, and a good lute-player. As he moved his fingers over the strings of his instrument, he regarded the room. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Perfect. Even Maj, as she went around serving drinks, rarely took her eyes off him. Especially when he embroidered out the interlude, concentrating hard on making it as complicated as he could. To win their attention.

He certainly wasn’t enjoying the awe on their faces.

A crash echoed through the room, followed by a scream. A horrible noise went through the room as Red raked his claws over the strings deliberately before cutting off, and he twisted around on the table just in time to see the Jarl’s son slide to the ground with a moan. In the corner of his eye, a dark-dressed man slid out the nearby door. As he fell, his head nearly fell off. A long, bleeding slit had cut it halfway through. It was an effort to look horrified instead of breaking out in a grin, and his face tensed.

One of the thieves the target had been playing cards with sank down to his side, feeling for his pulse. He shook his head. “Dead.” That woke everyone up, and two men rushed out the door where Slim had disappeared.

Glancing around the room, Red found that the crash had come from Maj dropping her tray. The ale bottle had turned into a thousand pieces, and the liquid was seeping into the wooden floor.

“Someone, call the guards!” someone else screamed. Oh dammit did they already think of that? Sometimes the shock would be enough to grant them a couple minutes to escape. Not that Red would be escaping tonight, but Slim absolutely would. Hopefully he was already halfway out of Riften by now, and then he’d ride straight back to the Sanctuary and let everyone know the mission was a success. As Red shifted, the money in his moneybag moved by his leg. The money he’d gotten paid for this. Two hundred septim. A third had gone to him, a third to Slim, and a third to the Sanctuary itself.

Soon, guards swarmed the place, hoisting out the body and questioning folks. But no one bothered to ask him: after all, every soul in the tavern could witness that he’d been much too busy playing lute to murder someone in plain sight without being noticed. They could witness that everyone had been looking at him, much too busy listening to pay attention to the stranger who’d swept by.

The tavern was full of frantic activity as he made his way up to Torbjörn, who was still behind the desk, deathly pale. “I assume I ain’t singin’ anymore tonight,” he said. “My usual room?”

Torbjörn nodded, moving on autopilot as he stuck in his hand beneath the desk and handed Red the metal key. He blinked before finally actually looking at Red again. “I’m real sorry your first day in Riften in months ended like this.”

“It’s not yer fault,” Red pointed out, smiling sympathetically. It turned into a smirk. “Unless yer th’ murderer, o’ course.” When Torbjörn flinched, he schooled his face into something apologetic. “Sorry, bad taste. But I’ll be continuing on my way tomorrow. ‘M going ta Fort Dawnguard. Th’ vampire hunters may need some entertainment, dontcha think?”

“You’re a kind soul, Cherry.” His voice sounded a bit distant, as though he was close to fainting.

Red grinned at him. “Ya should probably sit down.” Twisting the key around his finger, he turned nodded. “G’night. I hope this mess gets cleaned up soon.”

“Goodnight.”

As soon as he got up to his room, he broke out into a huge grin. Holy shit that had been too easy.

…

The journey home took close to two days since he had to take an extra tour toward Fort Dawnguard, but as he finally stepped through the Black Door into the Sanctuary and heard the familiar sound of Razz bragging about his latest kill in the next room, he couldn’t help but grin. As he stepped into the great stone hall, he saw Razz lounging against one of the stone pillars, smirking as he spoke with Axe, who was tending to her battle axe. What her born name was, Red hadn’t the faintest idea, and neither did he care. Axe was a Sister of the Brotherhood and that’s all that mattered where they were concerned.

“-five people,” Razz said, pride lacing his voice, “and I was in the corner, knife to my target’s neck. I slit her throat, drew my sword, and then-”

“I’m sure you were awesome, darlin’,” Red interrupted, putting his arms over Razz’s shoulders from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Razz shut up, throwing him an annoyed glare. Hidden affection glimmered in there, just like Red liked it. They were both emotionally dysfunctional assholes and that was perfect. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

“And how did you mission go?” Razz asked, leaning into his embrace despite how his gaze didn’t soften in the least. “Left the actual work to my brother, I hear?”

“Yeah Red, that was real unlike you,” Axe commented, pressing her fingertip against the edge of her weapon, grinning gleefully as it immediately drew blood.

“Hey,” he protested, frowning. “I enjoy Riften, ‘s an awfully immoral city an’ tha’ fits me. Doesn’t matter much if the people o’ Solitude knows ‘m an assassin, but I’d rather be able ta go back to the Rift without gettin’ hunted.”

It was only the people they needed to worry about, though. The Jarls, or the High Queen, would never put a price on a member of the Dark Brotherhood, risking making enemies out of them. They were a… necessary evil, he believed they said. A service the rich and powerful wanted to have at hand, and so they could hardly hunt them down. After all, wouldn’t it be unfortunate if you couldn’t arrange incidents for your enemies every now and then?

“Coward.”

Chuckling, Red fingered at the knife Razz had strapped to his leg as always. For a moment, he considered stealing it before Razz’s fingers closed around his, the tips of his claws digging into the bone.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “I will cut you.”

“Is that an invitation?” Red purred into his ear, grin growing as a faint purple tinted Razz’s cheeks and his glare grew more vicious, but he did let go. That knife had been Razz’s first own weapon, and he treasured it like nothing else. He’d been given it when he was ten and deemed skilled enough to carry a weapon. He’d been so proud.

Despite his blush, Razz twisted his head around, clamping down on Red’s neck. Red hissed, sparks travelling down his back. “Shut up, asshole,” Razz muttered. “Later, maybe.”

“Ey, you two. Keep it decent. I don’t wanna watch this.”

Red stuck out his tongue at her.

A head stuck out from around the corner, and blue eyes peered at them, flickering nervously between them. Blue. He and his brother had been here for a week, and both of them had yet to get accustomed to it. They were incredibly jumpy, and obviously terrified of most of them. Not that Red could blame them, they were an intimidating sort. “Uhm, Axe?” Blue almost squeaked as all of their eyes fell on him. “Master Wingdings has a job for you. In the alchemy lab.”

Grinning in delight, Axe swung her axe over her shoulder, nodding. “Awesome. I was growing bored.”

“Kill well,” Razz wished her.

“Oh, I will.”

As she disappeared toward the alchemy lab, Blue lingered, as though he was uncertain where he was supposed to be now. Red didn’t know much about the newcomers’ background, except that Blue had hired Razz to kill the woman who raised them – which didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture – so he was going to excuse that kind of uncertainty for once. “Ey, Blue,” he called. Blue twitched, eyes immediately on him. “Come down an’ join us. Razz an’ I were just going ta grab a bite.”

“We’re we?” Razz raised an eyebrow, and Red nodded.

“We were. ‘M starvin’. Haven’t had food all day.” As on que, his stomach growled, and he pointed. “See?”

Snorting, Razz nodded. Blue approached, obviously still hesitant around Red, but they didn’t give him a chance to worry. He grabbed Razz’s wrist, and Razz grabbed Blue’s, and like that they marched into the kitchen. Just as Red reached out to open the dark wooden door, it was thrown open, and his soul jumped up in his throat as he threw himself backwards instinctually, just in time avoid getting it in his face.

Stretch rushed out of the kitchen, fury sparking in his eyelights. Blue squeaked his name, but he didn’t as much as glance at them before leaving toward the sleeping area. Wide-eyed, Red looked into the kitchen, only to see his brother standing leaned against the wall, stirring a teacup. His expression was completely neutral as he followed Stretch with his gaze before it flickered down to Red.

“What the fuck was that?” Red asked. Yeah Edge could be irritating but what the hell had he done to get Stretch up in a rage? The same person who – just like Blue – flinched if they moved too fast?

Edge considered for a moment before replying. “Just a… disagreement. Nothing you need to worry about, brother.” Without another word, he shouldered his way past them, toward the training room. Undoubtedly, they’d be hearing a sword against dummies soon.

Shrugging, Red stepped into the kitchen, grabbing some of the bread and dried meat on the shelves, shoving it into his mouth. Razz made a disgusted noise. Both of them handed Blue some of it as well – he still hadn’t quite gotten used to the concept of free access to the food, it seemed. But once he had his hands on it, he devoured it, just like Red.

“Where’s Slim?” He hadn’t seen him yet. Of course, that didn’t mean much, Slim wasn’t a very sociable person, and would often be found alone in the rafters with a book or something along those lines.

Razz shrugged. “Windhelm, I believe. Wingdings gave him a new contract as soon as he came home.” His eyes suddenly sparkled with glee. “From what I heard, it seems it’s going to be bloody, and all over Skyrim in a few days. It’s the High Queen’s advisor he’s taking down.”

“Oh nice.” He chuckled, patting Blue’s shoulder. “C’mon, don’t look so frightened. Yer one o’ us now, not gonna hurt ya.”

Blue’s shoulders sank, and he exhaled. “I know. I know.”

Raising an eyebrow, Red reached for a bottle of mead. He wasn’t so sure Blue did know, but it’d come eventually. Wasn’t surprising if he wasn’t particularly inclined to trust a bunch of assassins within a week, after all. In fact, that’d be quite stupid of him, even if he couldn’t do much if they did turn against him.

“If ya say so,” he said, taking a gulp of the mead, tasting of honey, before sending the bottle over to Razz. Razz held eye contact as he followed suit, an indirect kiss, causing Red to stiffen. Oh hell Red was getting him in bed later. He let out a growl as Razz licked his teeth and smirked.

“Blue,” he murmured, standing up abruptly. Blue’s gaze flickered to him. “Maybe you should leave.”

When Blue glanced at Razz, Razz’s grin grew wicked. With a nod, he basically fled, and as soon as the door slammed shut, Razz was on the table. With a growl of his own, he grabbed Red’s collar and pressed their teeth together, raking his fingers up his side. Red shivered, grinning into the rough kiss.

Fuck ‘later’.

#underfell #uf sans #uf papyrus #blackcherry #sf sans #sf alphys #us sans #us papyrus #underswap #swapfell #the dark brotherhood #my writing #blood #murder #suggestive

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thtrelady · 6 years

Text

You Can Talk to Me

Stomping down the forest path, Lucy fumed as she muttered under her breath. She couldn’t believe the nerve of the mayor withholding most of their pay because the town hall had been damaged. It wasn’t even Natsu’s fault this time! It wasn’t their fault that the monster had come into town and they’d had to fight it in the middle of the square!

--------

“LUCY! Watch out!!” Natsu shouted as the monster swung its tail towards the Celestial mage. Natsu’s eyes widened in horror as he watched from across the square. Loke dashed through, catching Lucy around her waist and tossing her towards the Fire Dragon Slayer just as the monster’s tail swept through the spot Lucy had just been standing. Loke went flying into the building destroying the roof and Lucy screamed his name as Natsu caught her just before she hit the ground. “NOOOOO” Lucy cried out, struggling to get out of Natsu’s tight grip. She pushed him away and ran towards the collapsing building looking for Loke. Natsu fell to one knee, shaking at her close call, before his eyes darkened and he sprang towards the monster that had dared to attack his Lucy.

--------

Trailing behind her, Natsu walked slower than normal. His head was down and he kicked the occasional pebble with his sandal. Every once in awhile he’d look up at the back of Lucy’s head, wince and look down again. Natsu was used to Lucy’s quick temper, but this had lasted hours now and he was at a loss on what to say or do that wouldn’t get him in more trouble with her. His chest tightened and he caught his breath, what if this time she can’t forgive me, shot through his head.

Happy was riding on Natsu’s backpack, clutching the pink strands of the Fire Dragon Slayer’s hair to keep his balance. His eyes flicked back and forth between Natsu and Lucy. “Natsu, do you think she wants one of my fish?” the little Exceed murmured to his friend.

“I don’t think that’s going to help this time Happy.” Natsu replied in a soft voice. They both watched the Celestial mage for a moment longer before glancing at each other again and sighing.

“Happy, what if she leaves us…”

“Lucy would never do that, she’s our family”

“But, she hasn’t said anything to us in hours now.”

Just ahead of the the Slayer and Exceed, Lucy was caught deep inside her own panicked mind. That job had been her last hope to pay her rent this month and she didn’t have enough now. Her landlady had been clear, if rent was late one more time she would be evicted.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d failed. She’d tried to live free from her father and his money and she’d failed. Loke had been hurt saving her and she’d failed. Lucy clutched the keys at her side and let the tears run down her face, too tired to let her pride stop them from falling.

Natsu stopped dead in the path as the scent of her tears reached him. Oh no.. no..

“Luce?” Heart pounding in his chest, Natsu spoke louder, hoping she would turn around and acknowledge him.

Lucy stumbled and Natsu leapt forward to prevent her fall, grabbing her by the shoulders and keeping her from hitting the path. Once he had her back on her feet, he couldn’t let go. Fear of what he would see on her face kept the Fire Dragon Slayer frozen in place.

Lucy rotated inside Natsu’s arms, burying her face in the warmth radiating from his chest. Natsu’s breath hitched as he felt her arms wrap around him, dragging him closer to her as her shoulders shook and she cried. He felt his fears ease a little as he held Lucy in his arms.

“Luce?” he repeated, hoping this time she would answer him.

“What am I going to do?” Lucy hiccupped against him, her voice muffled.

“What’s wrong Lucy?” Natsu rubbed his hands up and down her back slowly letting the heat from them seep into her, trying to comfort his best friend. He wanted so badly to tip her face up and kiss away the tears. Mavis, he hoped she’d return his love someday.

Lucy relaxed a little as Natsu’s heat soaked through her skin. Whether quick hugs, being caught in mid-air, or those butterfly inducing mornings when she was surprised to wake up with him tucked in bed next to her, being wrapped in Natsu’s warmth was the safest place she knew.

“I.. I’m going to lose my apartment…” Lucy managed to say in between small sobs. Natsu’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Why would that happen?” he asked.

Lucy tilted her head back to look up at Natsu and replied “I don’t have enough to pay the rent and Mrs. Galley is out of patience with me. I’ve been late too many times and with all the damage we’ve done she isn’t willing to let me stay anymore. This job was my last chance and they didn’t pay us the full amount.”

Natsu’s stomach plummeted. They’d cost Lucy her home? “Oh Lucy, I’m so sorry!” he said as he tightened his arms around her. Natsu peeked over his shoulder at the blue Exceed on his back. Happy’s eyes were huge as he returned the look, this was worse than they’d thought.

Happy rose into the air. “I’ll find us a spot to set camp,” he said, flying off ahead of them. Natsu picked Lucy up in his arms and set off down the path behind Happy.

“Natsu?” Lucy questioned. It wasn’t that unusual for Natsu to carry her after a mission, but usually she rode on his back. The way he was holding her now was more intimate and she felt her face flush a little.

Natsu tried to answer her, but his throat was too closed up to do more than mutter a soft “I’ve got you,” as he pulled her close.

It took Happy no more than three minutes to find a clearing large enough for them just off the side of the path. Natsu followed him over to the site and set Lucy down carefully. Lucy turned away to wipe her eyes and compose herself while Natsu rested one hand on her shoulder. Both felt uneasy and weren't quite sure what to say.

Natsu stepped away knowing they needed a moment to collect themselves. “I'll get firewood if you have Virgo bring the tents.”

Lucy nodded and pulled out the golden key, summoning her trusted spirit. Together Lucy and Virgo swiftly put up the two tents while Virgo filled Lucy in on Loke’s condition. While Loke had been badly injured, he was healing well back in the Celestial Realm. “He’ll be fine with some punishment,” Virgo stated before patting Lucy on the shoulder and disappearing in a golden mist. Lucy shook her head, reasonably certain that punishment was not what Loke needed.

Happy and Natsu worked together quickly gathering enough wood for the night. They talked to each other about the bomb Lucy had just dropped on them. While they didn’t have a plan, they agreed that no matter what, they had to make sure Lucy stayed. In the past, Happy may have teased Natsu about it, but he understood that Natsu truly did LIIIIIIIIIIKE her and that if Lucy left it would devastate his Slayer. Happy had spent a lot of time talking to Gajeel and Pantherlily about Dragon Slayers and one of the many topics had been mates.Given his reaction to the very idea of Lucy leaving, Happy felt pretty confident that Lucy really was his mate. Natsu was a mess.

By the time Natsu and Happy got back, Lucy had cleared a spot for the fire. Natsu quickly created a bonfire and for the first time in hours Lucy smiled. She settled down across the fire from Natsu and watched the flames dance.

Natsu watched Lucy closely, seeing his flames reflected in her eyes. When he saw her shiver, he stood and moved in back of her. Settling down behind her, he tugged a little until she rested her back on him. Lucy curled her body up a little, soaking in the warmth radiating from both the fire and the Fire Slayer.

“We’ll figure out something Lucy. You know that right? You know that we’ll find a way to keep you with us. Fairy Tail wouldn’t be the same without you,” he stated.

“Aye!” added Happy as he settled into Lucy’s arms.

Lucy dipped her head in a slight nod. Now that Natsu had snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts, she knew that the guild would have her back. Natsu rested his chin on the top of her head, letting her scent surround and relax him. He could feel the tension leaving her body as she warmed up and calmed down.

Natsu felt a sense of peace drift over him holding the Celestial mage in his arms. It just felt so right having her tucked into him. “You could sleep with... “ he started and then paused, suddenly realizing what he was saying. Nerves froze his voice for a second before he shook his head a little to clear it. “You could stay with me,” he finally finished.

His arms gripped her as he fumbled out, “I mean.. You can have the room and I’ll sleep on the couch!” He closed his eyes, half expecting to be slapped.

“Really Natsu? You’d let me live with you?” Lucy was surprised.

“Yeah, of course! You mean every...” Natsu caught himself again. “I mean, the house isn’t big and it’s a mess, but I’ll clean it up for you. Just, don’t leave us... me.” His voice died off a little at the end.

Lucy stilled, having caught his quiet correction, was she really hearing what she thought she was hearing? She turned her head so that she could see his face and gasped at his expression. Lucy caught her lower lip between her teeth and his eyes snapped to it. Natsu’s eyes were wide open as he looked down at her and there was something behind them that she’d only ever dreamed of seeing. The partners stared at each other in silence, both barely breathing.

Happy wriggled in Lucy’s lap, mischief gleaming in his eyes, before he sprang up, shoving the back of Lucy’s head towards Natsu. The two were so close that the sudden motion caused their lips to brush against each other. Happy shot up into the air on his wings, knowing he needed to get out of Lucy’s reach after pulling that trick.

Quickly, he turning in mid-air to see what direction the attack was going to come from and nearly tumbled back to the ground in shock. Natsu had wrapped his arm around Lucy, angling his head and kissing her like he’d never let go while Lucy clung to him.

“Yes! Finally!” the little Exceed crowed before flying off into the trees to give them privacy. Not too far though, he needed to be able to share details with Gramps in the morning.

#fairy tail #natsu #lucy #natsu x lucy #my first story #nalu

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writing-the-end · 4 years

Text

LoL Chapter 7- Mineral Mage

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

The hermits are home on their hidden island of Eremita, welcomed by a friendly face...and a not so friendly friend. TFC is desperate to discover what the crystal is, even at the expense of his own wellbeing. But does he take it too far?

--------------------------------

At the tallest rise of the island, a glimmer is visible. Light shining off metal, and a small red tassel flowing free of the knight’s helmet. As stoic as he looks, standing heroically at the crest of the island, his face shows a childish glee. Jevin squeals, jumping from the sky turtle and rolling across the grass. “Wels! Long time no see, my man!”

Wels lets out a raucous laugh, features lighting up with joy to see his friends, his family. After what he’s been through in Alphasgard, he was afraid he’d never see them again. See the ragtag team of idiots he calls family. “Hear you guys got a big contract- and you didn’t invite me?”

“You stopped answering our letters, we thought you were too busy.” Stress giggles.

“Phoebe was so sad every time she returned with the letter unopened.” Zedaph pouts, patting the head of the massive turtle, fingers gently preening the green feathers of the beast, the whorls like clouds in the sky.

“What even happened?” Doc questions, sliding down the massive turtle shell with a lot less of his usual suave attitude. He may be a puppeteer mage, but animals are Zed’s thing. “We came as fast as we could.”

“Let’s just say some people were less than happy to find me snooping around their sewer lair.” Wels shrugs off his tunic’s sleeve, showing the scar running over his shoulder. Mumbo winces alongside Stress, but False steps up.

“Wicked scar, man.” She high fives him. “I’m sure you left me with a whole pile of things to fix, huh?”

“You bet. But first… what’s been going on with TFC? What is that crystal that he’s practically sleeping with?” The guild turns, looking down the hill, across the small forest and pond, over the training grounds to the inhabited side of the island. Among the odd collection of homes, he can see the crystal cave that TFC calls his own.

“Lets grab TFC, and we can go over everything at once. Including what he missed.” Xisuma nods the rest of the guild to their open hall, while he follows the footpath to the cave. Exactly as Wels warned him, TFC is hunched over his desk, picking and scraping at the crystal in his hand. “TFC?”

“What?” TFC looks up, blinking away the fatigue in his eyes. Dark rings and bags accentuate the sharp gaze he shoots at Xisuma. X steps back, before entering into the cave.

“We’re back, all of us are gathering in the guild hall to go over everything that happened. Haven’t you filled in Wels yet?” TFC isn’t acting like himself, he isn’t acting like the leader Xisuma knows he is. The father he is to every hermit. Strong and a good leader, calm and thoughtful. His words are short, cutting into Xisuma’s skin and lashing him with the tone in his voice.

“I’m busy, can’t you see?” TFC raises the piece of the crystal, light consumed by the darkness. Xisuma retreats from the magical item, feeling the evil magic within. He looks up, noticing the hungry, weak stare that TFC holds with the crystal. He’s obsessed with it, he doesn’t even notice his hunger or fatigue.

“TFC, please. Take a break, we have...a lot happened in Milliara. You’re our guildmaster, you need to be there.” Xisuma reaches out, but as soon as his fingers brush the draining crystal, TFC’s hand wraps around his wrist. It’s a firm grip, fingers constricting tighter and tighter until Xisuma’s knees buckle from the pain. Xisuma gasps, shaking. Sure, he’s been in duels with TFC more times than he can count, but TFC never intended to hurt him before. He never intends to hurt any of them. “T-TFC.”

TFC notices the fear crossing Xisuma’s eyes, the way he’s collapsing under the tight grip around his wrist. Fear...of him. Of his own guildmaster. TFC retracts his hand, cradling the crystal close to his chest. Why did he do that? Why did he hurt Xisuma? He just didn’t want him to touch the crystal. “Fine, I’ll go.”

The rest of the guild is listening to Wels regale them with his mission, pointing to aging wounds. “-and that’s when they captured me. They thought they had me beat? Ha! I took that sleep potion on purpose. I knew they’d take me right into their lair.”

“But you were tortured! Wounded!” Keralis whimpers.

“A little bit of pain wasn’t going to stop me from finishing my mission. These rogues were murdering people in cold blood- lucky for them mine was hot.” Wels’s lion tail flicks to the side, passing from one shoulder to the next like the tongue of a clock. Content to be with his friends- and very content to have some of Cleo’s amazing hard cider in his stomach.

Everyone looks up, seeing the last two members of the guild arriving. Wels turns, resting his arm on the black pants. He doesn’t feel like wearing his armor, not on a day off like this. “So… tell me, what took all of you guys off the island?”

“We got a huge contract. For all of us.” Grian grins, before remembering how that contract ended for them. They didn’t even get the gold, just a slap on the wrist. For what? Doing exactly what Magistrate Dolios wanted.

“We were asked by the magistrate himself to investigate a disturbance in a town. But when we arrived, everything was dead.” Xisuma adds, tucking himself in the shade of the tree. He pulls off his mask, safe from the blinding light of the sun, his eyes weak after years of stargazing.

“Okay… that’s not all that weird. Was it a plague? Or some banshee?” Wels shrugs, pulling his curly blonde hair away from his neck. He did not miss the warmth that the Ashioll sea brings, compared to Alphasgard’s cool mountain breeze.

“No, not dead like that. Not just a corpse on the ground.” Cleo mutters. “There was nothing. Not even a soul left for me to find. And not just people or animals. Crops withered to ash, wood rotted to charcoal, and water dried up. It wasn’t just the people- the entire land was dead. A black scar on the map.”

Wels’s face darkens, his eyes falling to the floor as he considers this news. “So what did you find?”

“We found a crystal within the well system. Large, imposing. Floating over the spring. Taking its power.” Zedaph leans over Tango and Impulse.

“And then it attacked us.” Tango hisses, playing with the tattered sash of Impulse’s. Pulling on the yellow threads and adding it to Zedaph’s golden locks. He’ll have an extra head of hair, if Impulse doesn’t notice. “These two creepy husk townsfolk came in, one attacked us, and then the crystal started spewing creepy mist stuff and nearly spiked us with it.”

“The same crystal that TFC has?” Wels looks at the black gem in his hand. It’s so small, how was it able to overcome them all?

“No, that’s just a mega tiny chunk.” Iskall responds, before pausing and squinting as he recounts his words. “No matter what we did, almost nothing could break it. Only my iskallium was strong enough to put it back into dormancy.”

“We narrowly escaped, but that’s when we rushed to Milliara. To tell the magistrate what we saw.” Xisuma leans against the massive oak tree at the center of the open guild hall.

“Wait...the magistrate, Magistrate Dolios- leader of the Council of Guilds, creator of that ridiculous law about licensing guilds? He asked us?” Wels looks around, waving at the island hidden among the mysterious, danger ridden sea. “He does know we aren’t a legal guild, right?”

“That was his whole point. His whole ploy.” Doc growled, his lips curling back. He wishes he could give that jackass a taste of his own medicine. Play with him like he did to them. “He tricked us into doing his dirty work, then made a fool of us all in Milliara.”

Now it’s TFC’s turn to be confused as well. “Wha- what do you mean? He tricked us?”

“Oh yeah, that’s the best part.” Etho growls. “He burned the contract, and kicked us out like we were idiots asking to be licensed. He played us.”

Anger flares hot in TFC’s veins, itching from his wrist where he holds onto the crystal. Like it’s feeding off his emotions. “So we did all this...for nothing!”

“No, not nothing.” Xisuma tries to calm TFC down. Try to get him to think like he normally does. Rational and calm. “This crystal, the one you have. I think there’s more going on. Joe, could I root around in your library, see what I can research? See what this magic could be from?”

Joe nods, and opens his mouth to welcome X to even search through his restricted books. But TFC cuts him off. “No! I’ve got this, I’m close to figuring it out. Learning the trick behind the crystal. You don’t need to get yourself tangled up in my work.”

“TFC...we always work together. That’s why we have a guild.” Mumbo whispers, standing up. “Listen mate… a lot of us are worried about you. I think that crystal is affecting you, dude. You’re- you’re scaring some of us.”

Mumbo opens his hand, quietly asking for the crystal. Not forever- he can’t do the magic that TFC can. If they hope to learn anything, they need his work. But it’s obviously affecting him. He’s changed.

But TFC recoils, gripping the crystal tight. “No! This is my work- I just have to test the gem and see it’s properties, and we’ll know exactly how to handle this. I don’t need you guys interfering!”

Xisuma’s eyes widen, realizing what TFC is saying. “T no!”

He reaches out, but he’s a second too slow. TFC’s magic circle has already been cast, surrounding the gem and sapping it’s powers. The blue arcane light stains black, circles and lines falling apart and struggling against the dark magic. Taking it over.

TFC falls to his knees, gripping his head. Black veins crawl up his skin, from the hand still holding the crystal. Unable to let it go. Like worms crawling through his bloodstream, infecting his body, sapping his strength. His skin turns pale, almost an ashen grey tone. The corrupted magic circle fades away, black mist replacing where magic hung desperate in the air, trying to stay activated. The mist retreats back to the crystal.

The hermits rush to TFC’s side. Grian’s hands are already glowing, trying to find a way to heal TFC from the pain, but none of it is external, or even wounded. He’s sick, not hurt. He’s in pain, not broken. Xisuma holds the guildmaster up, ignoring the painful glare of sun in his delicate eyes to focus on TFC. “The crystal! He must’ve activated it’s magic! It’s draining him like it did Gildara!”

“We have to get it out of his hand.” Iskall tries to pry the gloves open, but the older hermit won’t let go. It’s a vice grip, and when Iskall pulls his own fingers away, black mist trails behind. Trying to attach to even more power, the power surrounding it in two dozen different faces.

Wels draws up his magic circle. “Stress! You’re the strongest of us! Get it out of his hand!”

The azure circle is released, wrapping around the ice sorceress. Imbuing her with a strength buff. Iskall steps back, knowing not to get in her way. She digs her fingers between TFC’s. “Sorry, luv, but this really isn’t good fer yer health.”

Stress’s fingers pull apart the guildmaster’s, prying free his metal gloved hand and wincing through the mist that catches on her. Crawling on her like a cobweb, searching for magic to steal. She finally gets all the fingers to release, grinding her teeth as the crystal is exposed.

Jevin reaches out, encapsulating the dark gem in a mold of blue slime, hardening it into a thick casing. TFC collapses into the hermit’s warm embrace as soon as the crystal is punted away. “That thing needs to be destroyed now!”

“But what about TFC? We need to get him to the infirmary.” Grian needs to take care of him, or at least try to help. He’s the healer- he needs to heal their resident grandpa and guildmaster. Stress, still imbued with the strength buff, picks up the larger man bridal style, aided by Ren and Scar in giving her a gentle slope to the bottom of the hill. The hermits race off, leaving behind only a few to deal with the crystal.

Namely, Mumbo and Impulse. The two both watch the guild run to the infirmary room, but they know they will only add more bodies to the chaos. Impulse’s magic won’t do anything to help with that- but he is a master of destruction. And Mumbo, he knows he can’t help, and the last thing he needs to do is cause more issues.

The two look at each other. “Guess we’ve set ourselves up to deal with the crystal.”

#light of lairyon #lol #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft fic #hermitcraft au #wizard hermits #wizard tfc #wizard wels #wizard xisuma #wizard grian #wizard jevin #wizard au #tinfoilchef #welsknight #xisuma #grianmc #ijevin

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witchamajigit · 7 years

Text

Breath In

Everyone has their own unique scent. It comes from the mixture of things like preferred soaps, perfumes, the things they ate, the type of clothes they wear. But it also came down to a person's basic physical makeup, the magic in their souls, and the body they solely possess. Everyone was different.

No one knew this better than Natsu, who's nose could probably rival a blood hound. He mused this over as he sat at one of the long tables in his home, Fairy Tail guild hall. The dragon-slayer had his head down on his folded arms, feigning sleep. Sometimes it was nice to just listen and take in the scents around him of his family. Not many people would take Natsu for someone who liked to sit quietly, so he found this was a great way of indulging those rare moments without too much fuss. With his eyes closed, face hidden, the salamander focused on his surroundings. He could tell where everyone was just by their scent.

The first scent to his nose was obviously his own. He always thought he smelled like the essence of fire rather then something actually burning, like the aura of heat itself. Like Igneel had smelled: Heavy, like noon sun in a desert and underlined with things like baked earth, spices, and ash.

To his right, directly beside him, the smell was strongest and so familiar, he could probably sense them in the darkest of places. Delicate vanilla, summer sunlight, the sweetness of waterlilies, and beneath that, something that he could only describe as a sparkling, like moonlight, an ancient kind of smell. It reminded him of the stars. This was his best friend, could only be Lucy.

To his direct left, a completely different scent. This one was like a blast to the senses, so distinct and obviously theirs' that Natsu could never mistake them for another person. The earthiness of herbs, peppermint to be specific, and something like ginger, spicy and strong, winter winds, and snow. He always smelled like a winter storm, and reminded the salamander of a soft, muted night heavy with silent sifting flakes and swirling blizzard winds. Gray's presence was as familiar to him as a brother.

Another scent drifted to him from across the table, bringing a wave of nostalgia of reading lessons and fear. Metal and leather, polishing oil, and heavy fabric. In between these was also a melancholy scent, something like tears. There was also the faint sweetness like strawberries. More like strawberries and frosting. These smells were so thoroughly Erza, it was would have been impossible to be anyone else.

All around him, the familiar fragrances of his family swirled. Fish, wind, and fur: Happy. Iron, blood, and autumn leaves: Gajeel. Books, lavender, and ink: Levy. Heavy cigar smoke and hair gel: Wakaba. Beer and dark fire: Macao. Mountain wind and ocean mist: Wendy. Tea and jasmine: Carla. Storms and rage: Laxus. Sulfur and honey: Mirajane. Grass and cherry candy: Lisanna. Animals and pine: Elfman. Kiwi and steel: Panther Lily. Linseed oil and pigments: Reedus. Sunlight and juniper: Loke. Whiskey, coconut, and cards: Cana. So many others, all drifting around in a cloud around him, making him smile and made his eyes well up. He was glad for the shield of his arms, the guise of sleep.

"Natsu must really have worn himself out on our last job. He's sound asleep!" the voice to his right half-whispered. Not that it mattered, the hall was so loud, Lucy could have been yelling and it wouldn't have made a difference. He felt her hand rub between his shoulder blades gently, the movement carrying the scents of vanilla and sunlight swirling around him faster.

"Pathetic, really. We were barely gone a week and it's not like those guys were hard to take care of. He didn't even do any real work, the bum," the ice master's voice chimed in, peppermint and snow scents whirling to Natsu's nose with each word. He nearly gave up his charade then to snap at his rival but was interrupted by the last voice across the table.

"Leave him be. We all did great work and Natsu's been working hard lately. We all deserve the rest, though I must say I wouldn't take it so far as to sleep on the table. Perhaps we should take him home." Erza's strawberry scent was stronger, probably meaning she was enjoying a slice of her favorite cake as a reward to herself.

"No, let him sleep a bit longer. Someone's bound to throw a chair or something soon and wake him up anyway. Enjoy the quiet while you can." The hand between his shoulders lifted away and the scents of stars and vanilla became fainter. Lucy had gotten up and moved away. Natsu sat still for while longer, breathing in the remnants of her, listening all around again. The guild was growing noisier still and he knew he couldn't keep up the charade for long. The dragon slayer waited until a crash sounded (it was inevitable, there was always something being smashed at Fairy Tail just as Lucy had said) before lifting his head and opening his dark eyes to take in the sights before him.

Across the table, just as he knew, sat Erza, eating her third or fourth slice of strawberry cake. Beside him, Gray, half undressed and tipsy from the beer in front of him, was shouting across the room to Loke, who had a gin and tonic in his hand and a wicked grin, Cana to his right drinking by the barrel-full. Happy was fluttering around the room, trying to impress Carla with his acrobatics. His family, his huge, loud, powerful family, all of them laughing and drinking and fighting. The fire in his heart flared at the view, a grin spreading across his face as he scanned the crowd. But one was not in sight, her sweet laugh missed among the others, her delicate scent growing fainter. Standing, waving sleepily to Erza and Gray, Natsu skirted the tables and followed his nose. It weaved around his guildmates, in his mind's eye a delicate pink shimmer that lead him outside.

The night was quiet, stars spangled overhead, the boisterous noise from the hall dulled as the heavy door shut behind him. Again, Natsu picked up the trail, following the familiar scent along the street and down to the river. There she stood, leaning against the rail of the bridge, looking out over the water in the moonlight. The smell of stars and magic seemed to be more powerful around her at night.

"Hey Lucy."

At his voice, the blond turned, surprised but with a smile. "Natsu! Did you get a nice nap in? I didn't think you'd wake up for anything!" He joined her on the bridge, leaning on the rail beside her, their arms touching at the shoulder. It was a cool night and she shivered, unconsciously leaning closer to his warmth.

"I noticed you were gone. I wanted to say goodnight," the salamander explained, looking out over the dark water, watching the moonlight dart and dance across the ripples.

"How'd you ever know I left? I couldn't have been gone more then ten minutes!" she laughed a little, sending her scent swirling around him around, vanilla and stars and waterlilies. Turning to her now, without really thinking, because he rarely did ever think things through, his fingers slipped through her hair, catching a lock and gently lifted it to his nose. A blush spread across her cheeks but the celestial wizard didn't back away, only turned to stare at her partner.

"I always know when you're with me, Luce. It doesn't smell like home without you there beside me," Natsu grinned, letting the words tumble from his mouth, letting instinct guide him as he always did. He never did think too hard about whatever he said, he just said what he felt. And he meant what he said, as he looked into Lucy's warm chocolate eyes, took in the breath of her that made his heart swell. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Perhaps she was colder then he thought.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," he offered, letting the strands of her golden hair slip between his fingers, the hair whispering like silk against his rough hand. Turning to walk on, he stopped as he felt her hand grip the cloth of his sleeve. "Lucy?" he turned, confused, only to be met with Lucy's wide brown eyes, glittering with hot tears. "Luce! What happened? What's wrong, what did I say? I'm sorry! Please don't cry!" Beside himself, feeling stupid and panicked, he turned to her again, taking her into his arms where she caught at his jacket, burying her face against his shoulder. "Aw, Luce, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

She choked a short laugh through her tears. "I just…I wanted… Natsu, you… It doesn't feel like home to me without you either." Pulling her away lightly, Natsu reached up and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, holding her face gently, gazing into her eyes once more. The fire dragon smiled as he pulled her closer again, slowly lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers', his eyes closed, just breathing in, going quiet as he so rarely did. The sound of the river, their breathing, and their heartbeats hummed in his ears. They stood together for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms and auras; heat and stardust and spice and sweetness and ash.

Everyone has their own unique scent, that stems from all different factors, that all inevitably mix together depending on a person's family or friends or guild. Everyone, even if they aren't a dragon slayer, can recognize what home smells like. And for Natsu and Lucy, home smelled like fire and stars.

A/N: This is the first writing of any kind I've done in about 10 years. Hope you enjoyed it.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fairy tail #fairytail #natsu #natsu dragneel #natsu x lucy #lucy #lucy heartfilia #nalu #fairytail nalu #story #writing #drabble #fluff

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wizardsnwookies · 6 years

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DFD032118 - The Halls of the Dead

What you seek, lies beyond these doors. Many great things. The hoard, and something else of even greater value. Surtur furrowed his brow, listening to the quiet whispers in his head. The centuries revealed themselves in its voice, the way it breathed out its carefully chosen words. He could hear the strength of those who had weilded it before him, his father, his father’s father, a great great grandmother, and so many others. He knew their inflection, how they spoke to him through the flail, so he could tell that final statement meant something important

“’Greater Value?’“

A shield, a brother an arms to myself. We share a spirit and a bond like no other. Claim it, and together we will wield power like no one has ever known.

“How? Tell me how to get past this blasted door.” The guilded doors on the other side of the alter were proving stubborn. The teeth affixed to the mask had yielded no results and Surtur’s aching shoulder was testament to it’s resistance to shows of force.

It needs teeth, teeth that have not been offered to it before. There was a pause. How far are you willing to go for this?

Surtur thought for a moment. It was a loaded question with every implication that things were only going to get tougher from here on out. Still, he had come this far and he was not about to back out.

“To the end of the path.”

Good. Sacrifices may have to be made to move forward on this path.

Surtur heaved a sigh and severed the connection. The mask was the only evidence they had of teeth since entering this place. No skulls had been found despite the abundance of human remains used to build the vile organ in the corner. He turned to face Siggrun, arms folded behind him.

“It needs teeth.”

“Hrmmm. Maybe we should check out the torture room again. Perhaps we missed something.” He turned, readying his stride back towards the other passage when his eyes fell upon the woman. Raven was always pale as the snow that covered the land, but the skin around her neck was starting to show a rosy hue. “You alright lass?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my neck, it’s starting to feel a bit-” Her words were choked off in an instant, the gold chain that once draped around her shoulders snapped tightly around her throat, digging into the flesh and turning it from a soft rosy color to a bright red.

“GET IT OFF!!” Panic grew in her voice, her breath becoming more and more shallow. He clawed at the chain but it only grew tighter and tighter, escaping her prying fingers.

“Calm down lass, I have it.” A flash of light popped into existence around her neck in the form of a phantom axe, cutting through the air. The gold chain sparked as if hewn by the blade and fell slack once again. Raven gulped in the freezing air, lifting the necklace off her shoulders and tossing it onto the ground before her. This time, the axe that came down upon it was very real, and with a single blow, Siggrun had rendered the glittering jewelry into worthless shards.

“Hey now, that was unnecessary, we sill could have sold that.”

Siggrun glared daggers at the Bard, his shoulders heaving with a heavy intake of breath. “What did I tell you about touching things?”

“Oh come on, how are we supposed to do our jobs if-”

“And what’s worse, you dragged her into doing your dirty work for you!” He pushed towards Baldric, despite the size difference, it was hard to not be intimidated by the elevated tone he was commanding. Looking into his eyes, the bard could see his companions frustration towards him had reached a point that yet to be achieved.

“What she did, she did on her own. I was just trying to help her make a little money is all.”

“She could have been killed!!”

“I didn’t tell her to put the damn thing on did I?”

The tense stare down continued in silence for a few moments before finally Siggrun turned away in a huff, thundering towards the shattered door. “Just you mind yourself from now on boy. I won’t have much more of your nonsense.”

---

Surtur’s stumpy fingers felt something smooth and cold wedged into one of the cracks in the coffin wood. It was stuck in pretty deep too, but after prying it out with the tip of his dagger, he triumphantly held up three small teeth into the light. Finally, progress.

“Hey, choir boy, got something that might interest you.” The bard sauntered in brazenly holding out a rolled up scroll of parchment. It was not minutes earlier that Siggrun had called him out on his nonsense and lack of caution, and here he was again flaunting it in the mans face.

“What?” Baldric smirked at the sour demeanor with which he was met. “For all we know this could be a magical scroll, which we may need somewhere down the line.”

“Is this all you found?” The dwarf snatched the scroll out of his hand, starting him down between hard set eyebrows.

“You said not to touch anything, but this looked important considering the circumstances.” The bard produced a small scrap of paper, on which a note was scrawled in common.

“ ‘For those who fail to make their offering in the coin fountains, and those who willfully miss lead Aleth, a terrible curse will befall.’“ For once, Siggrun agreed with him, this was important information. So far the only thing they had seen had been the two basins by the door. He checked his coin purse and felt its heft. A few coins were a solid investment to ensure another curse would not befall any one of them.

“Fine, is that all then?”

“Yup.”

Normally Siggrun had a hard time discerning the truth from lies with the bard. The man was very good with words, and spun them like a weaver would fine silk. Whether it was the overwhelming sense of dread that fell over all of them, or the weariness of having yet to rest for the evening, Baldric was off his game and his lies were as transparent as glass.

“Boy...”

“Oh, yeah. Silly me, I forgot I found these too.” From out his pack was produced two gilded tomes, dusty, but otherwise in grand condition. The pages were lined with gold leaf, and obsidian and ruby gems accented the covers. One held the all too familiar Du’vanku runes, but the other was written in common for all to see.

“ ‘The Grand Theory of the Creation of Liquid Time through the Utilization of Expended Spiritual Essence.’“ Siggrun read the title aloud and set it aside.

“ “Expended Spiritual Essence?’“ Raven didn’t like the sound of that.

“Tortured Souls Lass. Less we forget what evil this place holds.”

“The white substance then?” Surtur inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Aye, Liquid Time it seems.”

Siggrun flipped through the second book haphazardly, apparently some sort of holy text of these creatures. Within he found mentions of a Symbiote God that sent a chill down his spine. What god would allow such atrocities? It mattered not, Gor was all powerful, his might would crush whatever this Symbiote God was. He moved on to the scroll. Any magical scroll here would not be considered lightly, but he did not doubt its usefulness if that was indeed what it held.

He realized too late that the words carefully inked on the parchment were nothing short than a curse upon the reader. He had but moments to react, and if he so choose, turn the curse upon someone else...someone...more deserving perhaps? Siggrun looked at the bard and considered it for a moment. It would be a lesson to be learned for sure. No, for HE would have been the one to place the curse, not Baldric’s own foolishness. The lesson would be tainted, and he would learn nothing.

“This is why we don’t touch things.” Siggrun sighed and as the rest of the group watched, a pale fog clouded his eyes, beginning as a mist in the corners before billowing out and turning the once dark centers into a milky orb blinding him to the world.

Frustrated hands tore the scroll in two, then in quarters, before finally rendering them into bits of confetti. Sirrgrun opened his palms and let them fall to the floor, muttering a soft prayer to Gor. Once again a flash of red light accented the pale glow of the enchanted candlestick, and before the bits of parchment had fallen to the ground, the cloudiness in the dwarf’s eyes dissipated and once again, vision was his.

“Do you still doubt the power of Gor?” He turned to Surtur who merely shrugged, unimpressed.

“Once I have that shield, I’ll have no need for Gods.”

“Shield?”

“Nevermind, let’s get moving then.”

---

Baldric wasn’t one for writing things himself, what was the point? All the best songs have already been written. Besides, why risk a coin by singing your own song when there was a surefire crowd-pleaser already out there? Still, as they made their way through the gilded doors and into the halls of the dead, he couldn’t help be feel a spark of creativity.

What know ye of death and rot? What smells and sights that time does wrought? To flesh and bone and cloth and steel

Where we all go when life continues not In beds of stone, the forever cot The darkness hides fear most unreal

Rows and rows and roses wilted Left behind upon chest plates gilded Priests and soldiers of evil sleep

What know ye of death and rot?

Meh, needs work, he thought. Behind them the faint sound of another ice skull plummeting to the floor echoed through the seemingly endless halls of mausoleums they now found themselves in. 30 feet high bodies were stacked, lining walls that seemed to stretch on forever before leading to a set of stairs that led to a similar room that repeated the process all over again.

He looked back at the two dwarves and cursed under his breath. What hypocrites. All of this nonsense about not touching anything and yet they now walk with their own spoils. Siggrun, shockingly enough, had been the first to break his own rules. One of the very first rooms they encountered seemed to be a small chapel or prayer room. Rather mundane, but at the front of the room was a worn podium with the all too familiar petrification of time. Upon it sat a book bound in human flesh and inked in blood mimicking the tome of names they had discovered in the cabin. While still a vile thing, they were no longer shocked by this point.

What it held, however was a different story. For the first time in his memory, Baldric saw the war priest grow pale as he read through the pages of the book. Some passages he read aloud, but for the most part, mercifully, he kept the rest of them in the dark as to its contents.

Unthings, monsters made of flesh and dark magic shambling in the darkness of the bards imagination. That book held the key to their creation, something so forbidden in practice that up until now, Baldric had thought the secret art had been long since lost. Sigrrun closed the book and tucked it inside his pack, claiming of course that he wholly intended to properly destroy it. Baldric wondered though. He had no doubt the war priest was insufferably upstanding in his morals, however, even someone like he had to know how valuable such scarce knowledge was to the right buyer.

Surtur was next, robbing the corpses of priests and soldiers through the mausoleums. He was of course warned by Siggrun, who conveniently forgot his own transgressions, that taking things from the dead was not wise. The fool stubbornly proceeded nonetheless, taking coin, a full set of sparkling plate male which he now wore brazenly on his person, and oddly enough a scroll of bardic music. Baldric patted the scroll in his vest pocket, making sure it was still there. The magic was risky, it held the power to randomly teleport them anywhere in the complex. In a pinch, however, it may be the difference between life and death.

Petrified wood groaned as the next door was pushed open, revealing a line of marble pedestals lining the western wall. Each one of them held a book, again bound in flesh, but these books were far lager than any they had come across before. Books so large, that it would require some sort of cart to move them.

“‘The Chronicle of the most Consummate Church of Du’vonku.’“ Siggrun read one of the titles aloud, before looking down the long stretch of pedestals. “Several volumes of it. So much history.”

“How old are these guys?” Baldric kicked at a stone on the floor, idly looking at the books, his mind placing buyers.

“Centuries, maybe a millennia from the looks of it. Not much is known about them.”

“So...these are valuable is what you are saying?”

“Exceedingly so. A wealth of knowledge...and coin. It is a shame we can’t come back for them.”

“Why not? Assuming Lord Umber is good on his word we walk away from this rich, more than enough money to hire some crews to come back and dismantle what’s left. That organ out there for example.”

“Or the gyroscope in the torture room.” Surtur chimed in. The strange device they found was a marvel of astrology, mapping the movements of the stars and celestial objects to a degree of perfection that was astounding. It was a shame that such use was used to slowly tear its victim into pieces.

“Have you learned nothing about taking things from this place?” Siggrun shook his head.

“Oh please, what about that book in your pack?” Baldric balked.

“I suppose he’s right, a bit too late for that.” Surtur admired his new armor, rubbing a bit of dust off the worn shine.

Siggrun didnt’ bother to argue, his mind was elsewhere. It had been since Surtur found the previous owner of his new armor. Deep within the recesses of the soldiers mausoleums they found a decaying body of a dwarven soldier. A brother in arms, who served under a dark god doing evil deeds. It sickened him to recall it. What was more troubling was what he found in his hands.

While Surtur stripped the man of his armor, Siggrun walked to a corner and examined the snowglobe in the light. Just like one of the countless others they had found outside the library, it held a scene of the cemetery and decrepit cabin above their heads. Again, four figures were seen trudging through the snow. Only this time, their gate was quicker, panicked. A desperate scramble through the knee deep snow. Stumbling over the headstones, tumbling, and scrambling to their feet as they clawed at the ground. Something was chasing them, something that had these figures scared for their very lives. Shadows emerged from the cabin, projecting elongated shapes on the snow outside the front steps. From the portal a flood spewed forth of dead and decaying bodies, a shambling army of the undead. Siggrun watched as row after row of these creatures streamed forth from the cabin and into the snow. Empty eye sockets fixed into a dead stare, arms outstretched, mouths open in a baleful moan. They just kept coming. An endless sea of death, sweeping down the mountain.

#campaign diary #role playing games #death frost doom #Dungeon World #powered by the apocalypse

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paissahut · 6 years

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Studies have been fairly easy for Atlas as of late. Everything being taught in his classes are elementary, such as formatting grimoires and outfitting it with proper inks, covers, and holsters. This is stuff he learned at the Arcanist’s guild many months back, but nonetheless he is busy sitting at his desk rehashing his knowledge with no less resolve than before. This cycle of studying has become a ritual to him to the point that he feels unfulfilled the nights he chooses to dedicate towards taking a break and decompressing. Ironically, he enjoys those days less than the ones he spends with his nose stuck in a book.

“Atlas…?” The voice that tentatively rose from Atlas’ linkpearl was not the one he was accustomed to hearing from the device in his ear. It was no less familiar however, and he immediately recognizes it as Yeyelu’s mother. He turns toward the sound as if she were in the room with him.

“Sosoyi! Is everything alright? It’s not like you to reach out to me on--”

“Shut up for a second, would you!”

Atlas is shocked by her interjection. It’s incredibly unlike her to lash out, hence a certain degree of severity is made clear to him and instantly he clams right up.

By the time Sosoyi has spoken up again, she’s in helpless, bumbling tears. “I can’t find Yeye.”

Atlas’ chair is launched backwards by the backs of his knees as he shoots to a stand. Sosoyi makes a choked sound as she can only guess what that ruckus she heard meant. Atlas is just as startled as she is. “So she’s not with you then,” She warbles defeatedly. “Atlas, I don’t know what to do! I can’t manage her anymore since you left the boarding house.”

The studious roe had already abandoned his desk and toppled chair and swung open his dormitory door in a rush. He swings his heavy winter coat over his shoulders as he exits the front entrance of the college well past curfew-- a bold and stupid move he hadn’t imagined he’d ever have to do, especially so soon after beginning his courses. He will have to report himself to his teacher the day after.

“Soso, don’t you worry. I’m on my way over and we’re going to find her.” Atlas keeps his tone calm and assured for her sake, but his hands tremble in fear of the worst.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The ferry ride from the Mists to the city felt like a dreadful crawl. Any speed below that of light would have felt far too slow. By the time he hits landfall it’s already nearing late evening.

“I’m here, Sosoyi. I’m going to sweep through Limsa Lominsa before I head to the boarding house.”

Soso’s voice, now a tired croak, responds. “Thank you Atlas. I’ll continue to search the orchard.”

Atlas decides to take the aethernet throughout the city to each of its most frequented spots first, then he will comb more thoroughly if his search yields no luck. He begins at the Fisherman’s guild and blinks into and out of existence about its other busiest hubs-- the Culinarian’s Guild, Marauder’s Guild, Arcanist’s Guild, Hawker’s Alley, Maelstrom Command-- until he forces himself to stop at the main aetheryte plaza. All the rapid-fire aethernet use has Atlas feeling sick to his stomach.

His gaze searches the surrounding area and finds no trace. The split second he discerns that Yeye is nowhere to be found, he takes a hard turn to his right for the Bulwark Hall. About halfway towards the archway inside he spies an unmistakable little shape sitting sullenly beneath the massive concrete pillar at the center.

Atlas breathlessly accesses his linkpearl. “Soso, I found her. She’s alright.”

Sosoyi’s voice is coming through, but her words are not reaching Atlas’ head. He hears the vague tittering of tearful relief and nothing more as he rushes forward. His sandals skid to a halt in front of Yeyelu, who lifts her head and lights up at what she finds.

“Atlie!”

Atlas for once is not mirroring her obvious delight in seeing him. He’s frowning, with lip and furrowed brow quivering at each end of his face. Yeye sees his expression and recoils; not because he’s angry with her and she fears the oncoming scolding, but because he’s trying his hardest to look furious while biting back tears (without success). She’d rather take the scolding than to see Atlie cry. “I was so worried…!” He drops to his knees and his heavily dressed arms swallow the little Lalafell up in a secure hug. She’s not quite sure how to respond at first so she wilts within the fluff of his coat like an unwatered flower.

“Please don’t do that again, Yeye. I beg of you.”

“But I wanted to see you…”

Atlas exhales forlornly through his nose and finally sets her down in front of himself. With the swift slice of a gesturing hand through the air he’s prepared to give her a stern talking to, but his attention is wrenched away by something else. “You have no coat! Yeyelu! How irresponsible can you be in one night!?” Atlas is flapping his arms, just about ready to take off, to fling his coat off his shoulders as quickly as possible. The little Lalafellan girl is bundled up and drowning in the garment meant for an adult a hundred times her size. She fusses softly at Atlas.

“I’m okay! Atlie, please…”

She sniffles and Atlas notices that among his incessant mothering she had begun to cry. Yeye wipes at her eyes with a tiny hand, the one that she kept his ring around like a bangle.

Atlas sighs with resignation and collects the weepy little bundle into his lap. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been giving your mother such a hard time?”

“I dunno why…” She’s hidden her face away in the fluff of his coat in shame.

Atlas knows what’s going on here thankfully, even if Yeye does not. She’s only six after all. No matter how bright she may be, for now she’s lacking the sort of self awareness that comes only from age. He decides not to try and play guidance counselor too much; no need to overload her when she’s already overwhelmed with emotion. “Well, you know what I’m going to say next, and that’s ‘you need to stop that.’ Alright?” Atlas tenderly swipes the knuckle of his forefinger over her tiny cheek to clear it of tears.

“I just miss you a lot.”

“And I miss you just as much! But I need you to be good while I’m away at school, alright? Your mother is worried about you, and now I am too.” Atlas lifts his head and looks towards the aetheryte and the crowd bustling around it. “How come you were sitting here?” “I got lost and I couldn’t remember which way the gate to the Mist was. And then I didn’t want to go home cause I knew Mommy would be mad.”

Atlas can’t help but chuckle. But of course. She’s afraid of Sosoyi’s perfected Look of Disappointment. Even he is helpless against such a brutal, soul-tearing gaze. A punch to the throat would be more merciful.

“I can understand. But when you make a mistake Yeye, you need to be sure to take responsibility and then deal with the consequences with dignity.”

He suddenly remembers that he is out well past curfew and he will be practicing what he preaches within the next twelve hours or so. The Roe flinches inwardly as he attempts to think of what will be coming for himself.

“Okay.” “Okay! I’m proud of you, Yeyelu. But I need you to promise me you will never do this again. Heading out alone is dangerous, I dread to think of what could have happened to you on the road between the boarding house and the city.”

“I saw a beehi--” “Nnnnope, nope! Nope! Say no more!” Atlas springs to his feet with bundled Yeye in his arms. “I just said I don’t want to think about it!”

Yeyelu cackles and bats at Atlas. His overactive flinch is twice as hilarious.

“You’re a rascal. It’s about time we get you back to your mother, hm? Let’s go.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

The little Lalafell is fast asleep against Atlas by the time he delivers her to Sosoyi’s door. She’s beside herself that her little one is back home safely. “Bless you, Atlas. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, without me she wouldn’t have run off to begin with. She was trying to get to the college.” His brows furrow as he adjusts his glasses. “I found her in the Bulwark Hall and talked to her, she said she became lost and didn’t want to come home to face punishment.”

Soso’s shoulders sag and she sighs deeply. “Makes sense. Don’t blame yourself, please. I know you wouldn’t have let this happen if you had known.”

Atlas’s gaze flicks aside momentarily, but then he nods in firm agreement. “Alright. May I come in? I would like to tuck her in.” “Certainly. Please excuse the mess.” She steps away from the door as he ducks inside. The place is hardly a disaster-- the single bedroom is tidy save for a thin layer of dust and a few of Yeye’s toys scattered on the floor. The head of her bed rests against the same wall as her mother’s, and they’re so close together that Atlas has a hard time squeezing his way between them. Yeyelu is gently plucked from the coat with a single big gray hand and tucked under the covers. She stirs and curls herself up in a tight little ball like a squirrel.

Atlas lets go of a breath he had been holding while watching her and he clutches his chest with a heavy thump. His heart is ready to spill over. “I love her so much.”

Sosoyi smiles softly as she turns toward a kettle resting atop a little magitek burner. “I know you do. Would you like some tea before you head back off to the college, Atlas? It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t linger. I ran off in violation of curfew and I don’t intend to take advantage of my time on the run, as it were.” Atlas smiles despite. “I’m going to ask about the rules of visitation in hopes that I could perhaps bring Yeye over while I study, but I’m not about to do so immediately after breaking the rules.”

“Oh, Twelve! What are you waiting for then! Get going!” Soso is “beating up” poor Atlas’s leg to fend him out of the door. He hops backwards in a flustered scurry and bonks the back of his head on the doorframe on his way out. He doesn’t stop until his back meets the wall at the other side of the hall. “Goodbye, Atlas. I’ll see you soon, alright? And thank you again.” She waves.

Atlas waves on back until she shuts the door, then rubs at his poor rattled skull. Ouch.

»»-------------¤-------------««

It’s four in the afternoon and Atlas is stuck cleaning shower stalls. This is his punishment for leaving past curfew the night before, which he reported as soon as he returned to the college. He kept his explanation to the professor intentionally vague, saying only that he had an urgent family emergency. He need not defend the actions he chose to take.

He dunks the filthy scrubbing brush into a bucket at his side and witnesses as a cloud of murk infests the soapy water. A horrified shudder travels through every ilm of his body. Professor Ward must have chosen this punishment with Atlas’s biggest weaknesses in mind; one of which being dirt. Mercifully, he was given a pair of rubber gloves that go all the way up to his elbows.

A little voice arrives in his ear soon after he returns to scrubbing. “Are you busy, Atlie?”

“Yes I am. I’m cleaning the bathrooms to make up for breaking curfew. And since this is a punishment I can’t allow myself to spend it talking on the linkpearl the whole time. Do you need something, Yeye?”

“No. I just missed you and wanted to say hi.”

Atlas smiles helplessly, even as he puts elbow grease into getting soap scum out of the tiling’s grout. “Hello, Peapod. I miss you too. I’m glad you reached out to me. Will you read me your new book when I finish with my responsibilities?”

“Yeah!” “Alright, good. In the meantime I want you to go pick up your toys and put them in your chest and make your bed. Will you do that for me?”

“Is this my punishment for leaving the house?” Atlas is surprised to hear that she doesn’t sound near as deflated as she usually would when being assigned chores.

“Yes it is. Do you remember what I told you about consequences?”

“Take re-ponce-si-blititty.”

“I’m proud of you. Now go on and do your cleaning up, and when I’m done with mine we can spend some time together.”

“Okay Atlie. Love you.” “I love you too Yeye.”

#ffxiv #mateus #mateus rp #ffxiv rp #writing #atlas #atlas usynhanth

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