#Red Wyrmling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cakeleighh · 1 year

Text

Ah yes, Watch me crawl out from under the bush and post -only to disappear in a poof of smoke while you’re confused as you can’t recall your name.

Anyway, MORE BABY DRAGONS!!!!! (Yes this is a continuation of the black baby dragon post thing.)

I love them all very dearly. They were all part of the ‘curse’ thingy, but I have more development on some rather than others.

Blue dragon; was a human wanderer in the desert with no particular affiliation. They liked drawing what they came across, but particularly things that could fly. Out of all the baby dragons, they were the first to get on the wing, and is the most confident flyer out of all of them. They were taken in by a clan of blue dragons, and were forced to adapt to life with a lot of annoying siblings, but they’d easily give their life to protect them.

Green dragon; I don’t have much on this one, just know that a pair of green dragons saved them from a bad situation and took them in. The baby green dragon desires dangerous adventures above all else, which doesn’t fit well with the fact that green dragons are the most protective over their young.

Red dragon; no clue. But I’m pretty sure they’re the ones that were the catalyst for the ‘curse’ and something else about dying in a battle. Idk. They’re very cute tho.

Brass dragon; a human from a small town in a desert. He kept to himself and spent most of his time in the small library provided. He didn’t like to socialise unless someone was equally into academic studies wanted to discuss something with him (read ; autistic. Yes, I am projecting my autism onto this character, because brass dragons remind me of a lot of the traits). When he turned into a dragon he couldn’t return to his town, but luckily found another brass dragon in their abode. This baby dragon is the smartest of the group, and the most curious about how this curse came to be.

White dragon; where as the others were pretty lucky to find the support they needed in the form of older dragons, this baby white dragon was an elf slave who was almost killed by a white dragon. The slaves were being transported when a white dragon attacked the vehicles while they were on a cliff, both slavers and slaves were killed but the curse took hold as the elf slave fell of the edge. Even as the adult white dragon saw a small white dragon, they were still intent on hunting and killing it. The baby dragon barely got away alive, and she decided the best course of action was to warn the nearest town about the impending dragon attack.

The designs were my interpretation of the dragon species, I’m very well aware they don’t look like the canon traits. This is both for cuteness and just what I would want to draw.

#my art #oc #dnd #dragons #blue dragon #green dragon #red dragon #brass dragon #white dragon #wyrmling #baby dragon #dungeon and dragons

26 notes · View notes

capriceandwhimsy · 1 year

Text

You know, watching Legend of Vox Machina Season II really reminds me that 5e dragons just got the short end of the stick.

All 5e dragons follow the same template:

A Multiattack

A Bite

A Claw

A couple of Legendary actions which usually include a tail slap and a wing attack.

A breath attack that recharges on a 5-6.

Whereas the dragons in LOVM are using abilities like:

An AOE acid flyover attack caused by the wings scattering acid.

Creating ice walls to separate the party.

Lingering poison gas clouds.

AOE flame attacks that strike a wide area and leave lingering flames.

You know what this reminds me of? 4e's dragons. Like, look at this ability from a 4th Edition Black Dragon.

Sets up a cloud of darkness that blinds everyone within it, allowing the dragon to evade attacks and pick off the weaker enemies.

The Ancient Red Dragon, by contrast, punishes you for trying to fight it. It has an innate aura that makes it hard to shoot it. It has a fire aura that damages anyone who tries to get in close. Anyone who tries to flank it gets slapped away. Anyone who tries to stay at range gets burned by either its Breath Weapon or single target Immolate attack.

And do you see that kicker on the breath weapon? The Red Dragon's flames are so powerful it can overcome damage resistance. There is no safe way to fight an Ancient Red Dragon.

Compare that to 5e's Ancient Red Dragon.

God, that shit is dull. It's just a better Wyrmling. It has some more attacks and a few extra powers. Half its abilities can be hard countered with a Ring of Fire Elemental Command. Lair actions make things a bit more interesting, but it's still mostly variations on "do something with fire."

4e had a lot of faults, but the monsters at least had interesting powers.

#the legend of vox machina #dungeons and dragons #d&d 5e #d&d 4e #dnd #4th Edition didn't do everything right but its creatures at least had interesting abilities #critical role #vorugal #umbrasyl #raishan #thordak #chroma conclave #tlovm #tlovm season 2 #tlovm spoilers #tlovm s2

820 notes · View notes

frostybearpaws · 4 months

Text

ight, my dragon ladies <3

Sevika and Ambessa, red and black dragons respectively.

Sevika has interacted with Mama Medarda in the past, there was a fight over noxian land ruled by a well respected but feared dragon who had died. It was a mad scramble to take even a sliver of the territory once possessed. At the time, Sevika lost and still carries the scars to this day.

It will not happen again.

Instead she was forced out and made her home in the land that became Piltover and Zaun.

She considers both swaths of land to be her territory and anyone who posses a significant enough threat will be dealt with swiftly. Ambessa's presence is not welcome, but now that she is older and larger she is more equipped to handling what Ambessa throws at her.

Sevika is about half a millennia younger than Ambessa and the fact that she is younger but about the same size as our lovely, terrifying acid spitter really just pisses Mama Medarda off, this is on top of the fact that she lacks draconic etiquette and is truly a barbarian by dragon's standards "Even my daughter knows more about being a dragon than you do, wyrmling!"

Both Sevika and Ambessa have the ability to Polymorph, however Ambessa uses this ability sparingly only going into a humanoid if she has to hold a diplomatic meeting with someone (or she's meeting with her daughter.)

Sevika polymorphs like there's no tomorrow. Her typical form is a humanoid, however on any given day she might be the orange tabby that drapes itself over Silco's shoulders. A crow hanging in the rafters. A fiery red parrot that's trying to steal your shiny bracelets, rings, and necklaces. Be careful what you say, she's always watching. ;)

#sevika #arcane sevika #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #DnD!Arcane AU #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix

58 notes · View notes

gooseofthevoid · 8 months

Text

Can't be bothered to take proper pictures.

Painted a super quick and easy mini to chill after the undead dragon. Just a red base, metallic copper drybrush, and a couple of derails.

Model is FREE Flamehorn Wyrmling by Dragon Trappers Lodge.

#painted miniatures #3d printing #dungeons and dragons #d&d #miniature painting #mini painting #printed miniatures #resin printer #printed miniature #dragon #baby dragon

35 notes · View notes

corsair-princess-nenime · 5 months

Text

NENI DM

officially dm'd my first dnd session :) using the final chapter of dragons of stromwreck (set in dragonlance, populated with red dragon enemies). Went well, brought 2/3 (lvl 5) players close to death like twice, brought one of them down, a good nights work for a one shot!

my players awakened (after a night of drinking) on a river boat to discover they had volunteered for a dangerous mission to stop a dark ritual. there was a beach map, then the dragons of stormwreck observatory map, all with around 2 dozen enemies total and the boss

player shenanigans included nuking a lot of enemies with fire spells

of note was the appearance of actual dragonlance NENIME, the character i wanted to make before i realized it would be an all elf-party

the boss was an armored kid WHOS ACTUALLY A RED DRAGON WYRMLING wearing a ruby imbued with change shape. she was gona stay out of the fight to mess with her relic-takhesis-holocron-rubix cube for 3 rounds, unless someone messed with her enough times to piss her off

feeling that my players needed some help, i had minotour guy try to repair a ' damaged' istarian drone - he succeeded. in the fight, the istarian drone would eventually go on to bind our boss, and the elf assassin got two back to back nat 20s on her with frost touch. with the relic finding her unworthy, our boss fled badly injured

here are some of my notes:

Nini sea elf (dimernesti) TALL STANDING AKIMBO bluegreen skin, frekled face w sunburnt cheeks, silver hair / green eyes bonespear - some hatchets , HER ARMOR IS a shirt of clam shells over a kalaman military TUNIC SHE HOLDS UP HER WEBBED HANDS > GREETINGS! Are you ready for the mission? > the highly dangerous mission we volunteered for?

(wizard elf tried to seduce her, he had to save it for after the mission, where i would have him do a charisma check w adv - he failed)

/////////////////

the chamber is bathed in a baleful, ruddy light. high in the air, a pyramid of red glass and red gold burns with a furious, suffocating aura beneath it, a pair of draconians flank not a grizzled warlord, but… a little girl, seething at this interruption as only a child can seethe > morons!

Ayveryhys head is a rats nest of black hair - bound behind her back her features are pale, shes unmistakably 9 or 10 years old strangely, her widdle eyes glow with flecks of molten light she even wears armor - exquisietely crafted, wraught in black steel and edged in gold, not unlike the votive images youve seen of Takhesis of course, the armor bears the dragon queen's clawed spiral a glowing ruby is set prominently in place of the claw representing fire dragons > YOU WILL NOT STAND IN MY WAY!

(despite previous hints, they did not see her being a dragon coming)

14 notes · View notes

honourablejester · 2 months

Text

Adventure Ideas from Fizban’s Treasury of Dragons

I’m rereading it recently, it’s definitely one of my favourite D&D books I’ve ever bought. And the Adventure Hooks & Connected Creatures sections of each dragon’s entry in this book’s Draconomicon are so good for adventures/adventure elements involving dragons. Some of my favourites, arranged according to vague categories:

Dragon Dungeons

“Ruins rumored to hold the treasury of a lost empire are guarded by an elaborate network of ooze-based traps designed by a restless adult black dragon.”

“An adult black dragon has hidden a cache of gems in a dismal topiary maze filled with shambling mounds, traps, and noxious plant life, all for the amusement of testing adventurers.”

(Black dragons, because of their association with fallen cultures and propensity for traps, make for great dungeon builders. Also, acid is just a nasty environmental hazard to build around, and they’re exactly the sorts of sadists who’ll make full use of it)

“A deep dragon wyrmling with an experimental bent has created a "garden" of gray oozes.”

“An adult green dragon and an adult gold dragon skirmish over control of the vine-choked ruins of a floating mausoleum and its library of talking skulls.”

(I have many, many questions about this one. Starting with the floating mausoleum (floating on water? In the air?), the library of talking skulls (though there’s one of those in Sigil as well, necromantic libraries of trapped spirits are apparently a thing), and finishing with why this particular pair of dragons are skirmishing over it. Are they each looking for information? The same information or different information? Is one of them, likely the gold, trying to destroy the library? I just. I have so many questions about this set of circumstances, and it’d be a fascinating thing to have a party stumble across, especially if they have something THEY might want from the library as well)

“A topaz dragon is building a tableau of desiccated creatures and has grown obsessed with catching one treasure hunter who escaped the dragon's clutches.”

NPCs with Draconic Friends

This is just a fantastic collection of NPCs to scatter around and have parties meet. Starting from NPCs with wyrmling companions, ranging from the fun to the rather tragic:

“A gnome relic hunter looting a long-abandoned city strikes up an unlikely partnership with a black dragon wyrmling to plunder an archaeological dig.”

“A knight rescued a bronze dragon wyrmling from sacrifice at the hands of a cult, and the two now travel together in search of wrongs to right.”

“A tiefling child has secretly hidden and raised a red dragon wyrmling from an egg. The wyrmling is bonded to the child, but dangerous to anyone else.”

“A family of deep gnomes adopts a shadow dragon wyrmling, hoping to show the dragon a noble path through gloom and despair.”

“A pirate crew keeps a curmudgeonly topaz dragon wyrmling as a beloved mascot.”

To NPCs with young dragon companions:

“A child's imaginary friend is a very real young copper dragon who can cast invisibility.”

“A young crystal dragon uses dancing lights and hypnotic pattern to give an air of authenticity to a charlatan fortuneteller's act, in exchange for a portion of the take from the charlatan's clients.”

“An assassin and a young emerald dragon train together to master the art of stealth.”

To more dangerous NPCs/enemies with adult or older draconic protection:

“An adult shadow dragon and a death knight are both hunted by adventurers. In their previous lives, the two were sworn enemies, but now they join together against their common foes.”

(There’s a real romance to this, two sworn enemies who fell to separate evils who come together now for pure survival. I would TOTALLY play this for undying loyalty, have the two of them be undoubtedly evil but also genuinely, death-defyingly loyal to each other, the only ones who know fully what each other has been through.)

“A death knight and an ancient white dragon swap tales of old foes and unanswered grievances, nursing the hunger for vengeance that sustains them.”

(Not going to lie, I’m really fond of this pairing, and not just because it’s a fantastic picture of two bitter, hateful, disgruntled old fogies sitting in the bitter cold grumbling together about ancient grudges, but instead of two grumpy old men at a bar, one of them is undead, and the other is a DRAGON. If the party is good at stealth, it’d be a fantastic picture to throw at them, you’re just hiding there holding your breath while these two incredibly lethal foes just *grumble* and commiserate with each other)

Dragons Loyal Beyond Death

Somewhat of a continuation of the above, more draconic loyalty, even after the death/corruption of the one they’re loyal to:

“An adult gold dragon feels responsible for a paladin's fall from grace and sends minions across the world in search of the paladin—now a death knight—so they both might be redeemed.”

(Fizban’s firmly believes that dragons and death knights make the best thematic companions, and I will grant them this point, because it’s got some fantastic warped chivalric imagery and I love it. A nice quest to entangle the party in if they’re the sort to enjoy moral quandries and redemption)

“A renowned gnome trickster, now deceased, so impressed an ancient copper dragon that the dragon assumes the gnome's form from time to time to help keep their legend alive.”

(This is just the … the best, most loving use of a dragon’s lifespan and shapeshifting abilities. That theme from The Last Unicorn of immortality through the memory of an immortal being. And of *course* it’s a gnome and a copper dragon, of course it’s the admiration of two tricksters. I’m not sure how well it’d fit into an adventure, but having a party learn this secret and decide what to do with it, to reveal the deception or let it continue, could be an interesting angle)

“Despite repeated mind flayer attacks, a young deep dragon refuses to leave the cave where the dragon's best friend—an adventurer who won the dragon's respect and affection—lingers as a ghost.”

(… I’m crying. What’s the solution here? Convince the ghost to move on or otherwise lay the ghost to rest so that the dragon can leave, knowing that this will mean the dragon loses their friend for good? Try to convince the dragon to leave their friend even if they still exist? Try to destroy the mindflayer colony? Try to somehow hide the cave from the mindflayers, so that the two can stay together? Try to distract the mindflayers with a different conflict so they’ll focus their efforts in that direction instead (at the risk of other nearby inhabitants)? What a fantastic and heartbreaking little situation to stumble across)

Dragon Communities

Whole communities that have incorporated or built up around a dragon, for when you want dragons as an acknowledged part of daily life somewhere, and have parties decide how to deal with that:

“An adult copper dragon serves as the patron of a community of gnome tinkerers, who present their best ideas to the dragon in hopes of being funded.”

(Sidenote: gnomes and dragons seem to get on great)

“A community of seal hunters reveres an ancient crystal dragon as the spirit of their glacier home. Such worship amuses and flatters the dragon, who keeps the hunters safe and leads them to locations where seals are plentiful.”

“A clan of gnomes pays a young dragon turtle to serve as a mobile refueling platform for their fleet of steamboats.”

(I love this one SO MUCH. Starting from the gnome steamboat flotilla itself, however you want to play this, from just a great lakes inspiring shipping business to an after-the-end Waterworld type scenario, to them then having a goddamn dragon turtle cooperating with them. Fantastic from all angles)

“An emerald dragon is the headmaster in absentia of a bardic college and must be convinced to defend the school in a contest against a rival college.”

Other Cool Dragon Plots

And then just some assorted draconic plots, which was *almost* just ancient dragons causing problems, but there was also one miscellaneous shadow dragon prompt that was just fantastic as well:

“An ancient green dragon is the guardian of a lich's phylactery and extorts favors from the lich.”

(Now *there’s* a power struggle to get embroiled in. A lich attempting to use the parties as agents to unknowingly retrieve their phylactery for them from an *undoubtedly* evil dragon’s hoard, and a subtle, sneaky green dragon who is literally *holding the lich’s life hostage against it* and who could potentially just reveal that to get the party to back off. If they didn’t feel like be subtle and using their own shapeshifting to turn the party back on the lich some other way. I fucking love green dragons. They’re such fantastic bastards and I adore them)

“An ancient crystal dragon follows a pod of whales from one sea to another, having grown fond of the valuable ambergris they leave in their wake. Now whalers are scheming to kill the dragon.”

(Okay. This is just such great *imagery* to start with, the whales and the whalers and the vast draconic protector, the greed and the livelihoods and the protection of nature, the looming mercantile interests of the perfume industry that uses the product … Ambergris is such a fascinating RL substance and history. Also, great quest if you’ve got druids or other characters interested in the protection of nature, balanced against more ‘civilised’ interests and risking’s the party’s relationship with some likely quite powerful players)

“An ancient deep dragon has put the folk of a city to work building the dragon a metropolis to rule in the center of a vast underground salt lake.”

(Again, this is just such a great, eerie image for a party to stumble across. The vast white lake under the black ceiling, the salt-scarred slaves (or are they slaves? could they be working willingly, and why?) toiling to raise labyrinthine white walls, the strange, fungal, nightmarish dragon at the centre of it. Given the deep dragon attraction to knowledge and writings, there could be an underdark library involved, strange writings embedded in carved salt granting the entire edifice unnatural durability as the deep dragon’s regional effect, that physical forms of writing cannot be damaged by nonmagical means within 6 miles of the lair, mean that these white, bloodstained walls *will not fall easily*. It’s just … such an image)

“A shadow dragon hunts the descendants of the miners who, centuries ago, uncovered the Shadowfell portal that caused the dragon's corruption.”

(And for a finisher, I just really like this. This miner’s curse, this vengeance from beneath the earth, this black shadow that follows a family line for not even a crime but a centuries-old *accident*. Possibly the Miner Forty Niner from Scooby Doo stuck a little too hard for me, but cursed miners is still just a great image. Is it worth attempting to convince the dragon that the sins of the fathers should not be borne by the sons? Or do we just have to slay the dragon?)

Conclusion

I do love this book. A lot. The Draconomicon section on its own is well worth reading. But, well. I also just really like dragons. So there’s that. Heh.

#d&d #fizban's treasury of dragons #dragons #dragon adventures #whoever was writing these sections #i love you and also wish to pick your brains

10 notes · View notes

the-griffons-saddlebag · 2 years

Photo

#illustration #digital art #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d

278 notes · View notes

feudalismoffire · 4 months

Text

Throdigasyx‎‎: Status: Alive Gender: Female Race: Red Dragon Alignment: Chaotic Evil Personality Traits: - Cruel: One's ability to be alive depends on their capacity to prevent me from killing them... Though, always leave one alive, the tale of my feats got to be spread around, of course. - Deceitful: I love to bargain. I also love to kill the bargainers and take their stuff too.

- Egocentric: All must bow to me. ALL! The smallest, most insignificant trace of disloyalty will be punished with the uttermost brutality. - Irresponsible: With great powers, comes great responsabilities... Unless I have little concern for the fate of all those beneath me. Background: Through the southern mountains of the Sword Coast, lies Throdigasyx's lair‎‎, whom for decades built a name for herself, for her unimaginable cruelty and lack of concern for life. She is the mother of Launairk and his siblings, though they were not her fist clutch, and yet have been her latest disappointment, especially the seconds-youngest Launairk. Throdigasyx ruled in a reign of terror within her territory, raiding and destroying villages and forest alike, until the place grow into vast grass plains. When her latest clutch from her new mate (she considers him a strong braindead individual) hatched, around her lair was one of the few places that still held a considerable vegetation, her small oasis in the sea destruction and desertification she caused. As her clutch hatched and grew up, Throdigasyx grew bored on the sight of her unimaginative and underperfoming wyrmlings and decided to create some fun for herself, by challenging them to dangerous yet reward tasks (one of the few times she was not fully deceitful). Go there and here, start fires across villages, receive a small reward, that was the deal and so they performed well, with the exception of Launairk, who grew too sympathetidc to the bipedals as he watched them instead of grew uncaring. Despite this, she was actually proactive in caring for her son, and decided he could show his true nature in other ways than this, any thing that would make him gain her respect to stay under her wings. On the fateful day, Throdigasyx, after several failed attempts, grew angrier at Launairk and decided that he would show her cruelty or die. She raided the local villages and brought a bunch of bipedal children, one for each of her hatchlings, and their goal was simple, kill them. Launairk watched and grew so uneasy and traumatized he just couldn't do it, and in an outburst of rage, she devoured the kid and expelled him from her lair, with the warning that should she see him again, she would kill him, that, if he doesn't kill himself in the wirld. After the exile of Launairk, she continue to tend for her wyrmlings as if nothing happened, despite going around in a few scouting missions searching for if Launairk was around, but after weeks, she didn't find him and thus considered the job done. As decades passed, the day she expelled all her children come as they were nearing adulthood and she wished no rivals for territory. Her lair became a quiet place, if not for the yip and yap of kobolds and whatever sounds elementals do. Through those decades, Throdigasyx went on many battles against other dragons and bipedals alike, she sometimes barely survived, causing lasting scars and a horn broke. She even attacked a temple to an old god of bipedals, whom sent a curse on her, causing her scales to slowly fall away and she grow ever more tired and skelectical. She tried to find a cure for so long and despite having no results, she still on the search, not known one of her sons out there is also searching on solutions, who knows how long until their paths crosses once again...

8 notes · View notes

freetobeeyouandme · 7 months

Text

Shrike

Tags: Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply, Bylerween 2023, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Witches, Wizards & Necromancers, Blood and Gore, The Witcher AU

Words: 1.9k

Summary:

His ears pick up on the soft, calm breathing of the wizard, and he tries to copy it. His body is still too alert for meditation to be of any help, but there are other tricks, he has learned. His travels with companions, especially this one, have taught him. He focuses on the wizard’s light touch, the in and out of his breath, the crinkling of leaves under his feet as he shifts, unable to stand completely still. The rustling of fabric, the heat of another body so close to him. The sounds he makes as he opens his mouth and then closes it again, deciding not to say anything. Mike lends his companion the focus that he had prepared for the monster, and that stops the rest of the world from spinning so fast. - Or, Bylerween Day 7: Witches, Wizards & Necromancers

read on Ao3 or below; see whole collection

A/N:

Here we are, the last one shot of this series: A Witcher AU feat Wizard!Will and Witcher!Mike having a sweet little moment post battle. I hope you enjoy! CW: Blood and gore

-------

The demogorgon crashes to the ground in two parts. Its body lands at Mike’s feet while its head hits the forest floor and rolls a little way down slope. A leather boot, sweeping out from under purple robes, brings it to a halt.

With the monster’s death, the woods turn deadly quiet, and Mike’s senses pick up on everything else now that there are no more enemies to focus on. There is a small brook nearby, bubbling hectically. The threats dispersed, the neighboring birds swoop in to examine places previously off limits. This immediately leads to disputes over food, the robins especially contentious, their little claws tip and tapping in the branches above as they twitter at each other angrily. In the distance a wolf howls. A herd of deer has found the brook, lapping up the water. Their hearts begin to race with fear, tap tap tap, and the smell is not far behind. Soon the wolves will find them and their blood will turn the brook red. Maybe if the deer would head in Mike’s direction they could avoid that grizzly fate, but the smell of monster guts deters them.

Later, perhaps, after the wolves have already had their fill, a few of them will stumble along this path. But only once the witcher and his bounty have long left the woods behind. When the sharp tang of undeath and cold, preserved flesh is replaced by the sweet smell of rot.

Above the woods the clouds shift, letting in a rare beam of sunlight. He closes his eyes against it, the light too bright. On the path are riders. The wolves sniff the ground, take up the hunt. The deer scatter. Tip tap, tip tap go the birds. Another fight, another set of wings beating as the loser flies. The sound of horses pawing the ground. Leaves crunching under leather boots. The squish of dead flesh as it hits the ground beside his feet. A shrill peal of laughter on the road. The stench of the head, the dark taste of the demo-creatures’ blood in the air.

The hand on his cheek is warm despite the cold weather, fiery magic not yet abated, and Mike tries to focus on it as he brings his breathing under control. His head already begins to ache as the entire forest tries to get his attention. Without a monster to focus on his senses are running wild, trying to find a new enemy in every small woodland creature and every passing rider. It is different up in the mountains, where settlements are far and few between and he has to wander quite a bit until he finds whatever cave troll or wyrmling is going to bring in enough crowns for him to eat and sleep until the next monster warrants slaying; there it is quiet. The middle of Redania, with its close settlements and constant foot traffic is hell, compared.

Especially with another war brewing, kings and queens all vying for his help, somehow, because they mistake him for a sell-sword instead of a monster hunter. And because they think he will deliver the brown haired sorceress to them when he finds her.

“Sheathe your sword, love.”

Mike does as he is told, trying not to cringe at the rasp of silver against leather right next to his ear. The hand on his cheek holds him in place. Holds him together.

Light fingers wander over his skin, tracing the dark veins below his eyes, visible reminders of the poison in his blood, self inflicted to prevent worse pain: Becoming demogorgon food.

He focuses on the wizard’s light touch, the in and out of his breath, the crinkling of leaves under his feet as he shifts, unable to stand completely still. The rustling of fabric, the heat of another body so close to him. The sounds he makes as he opens his mouth and then closes it again, deciding not to say anything. Mike lends his companion the focus that he had prepared for the monster, and that stops the rest of the world from spinning so fast.

He peels his eyes open again, watching the expressions shift on the wizard’s face. His eyes, made greener than they are by his heightened senses, blink, and in that blink shift from worried to joy as he realizes Mike is watching him. The mouth, lips pink and soft, ticks upward in a smile.

“Hi,” Will says quietly.

“Hi,” Mike replies roughly.

There is another trick, but that one only works with Will. Mike pulls off his gloves, sticks them in his belt, and cups his lover’s face in his hands. Will follows his directions all too willingly, crossing that last half-step of distance between them.

Someday, perhaps, Mike will stop feeling bad about taking what Will so freely offers. He has not had the chance to wash up, and he knows some of that monster blood has found its way into his mouth in the heat of the fight. He can taste it there, bitter and rotten, and he knows Will must taste it too. Will must taste him the acidic aftertaste of the potion, and the cold, bitter saliva it leaves forming in his mouth. He is a sick thing, a cold beast, no longer human, not like this.

Mike will stop feeling bad for it when he learns to accept that Will does not care and does not mind. Perhaps because wizards themselves are not quite human anymore with all that magic running through their veins. Perhaps he has charmed, how he has no idea, the wizard into simply not caring, the blood and the rot and the poison a small price to pay for Mike’s company.

And so Will lets him kiss him. At first careful, the simple touch of mouths already flooding Mike’s senses like the swipe of a claw that got under his armor. Then Will opens up, and Mike presses forward readily, still wanting more. The first desperate gasp for air turns into a moan.

Mike pants as Will leaves off his mouth, lips brushing over his cheek, teeth scraping along his jaw. Dextrous fingers find the collar of his armor and start peeling it away, granting a hungry mouth access to his neck. The cold seeps in before the lips can warm his skin, making him shiver.

Above them October sunlight dapples through the trees. Birds twitter aggressively, still fighting. Hooves clomp on the road, wooden wheels creak as they roll over gravel. Their own horses whiny impatiently.

Mike pulls away, loathe to leave Will’s careful hands behind but suddenly unable to stand the sensation. He doubles over as his stomach turns – he doesn’t throw up, hasn’t thrown up from any of his potions since he first left Kaer Morhen for the Path, but sometimes, when he’s had too much, his body still fights him.

Will knows what to do with him in these moments too, though. He crosses the distance Mike has put between them with his first stagger and, placing a firm hand on the back of Mike’s head, keeps him down. Mike sinks to the ground, onto his knees, trying to hold his spasming body in place and Will follows, never breaking contact.

Sometimes, in moments like these, it scares Mike how much he depends on the wizard and the kind hands on his body, helping him hold on.

“Love,” Will whispers, and it means the same thing as I forgive you.

Mike curls into him, taking the darkness offered by pressing his head against Will’s chest. Will’s arms come around him, holding him there, promising safety until the pounding in Mike’s head has subsided and the adrenaline in his veins has settled down.

He doesn’t speak again until he can feel Mike’s breathing evening out. “There is a little brook nearby, love, we can get you washed up there.”

Mike nods, but it takes him a second to peel himself away from his lover’s warmth because once they are moving again they will not stop like this until the night hides their embrace.

He dreads already the evening, the dingy tavern and Dustin’s incessant singing. He dreads most the drunkards, liquid courage lying to them that bothering a witcher about tales of adventure is how they want to end their night. Sometimes riding back into town after a successful contract has people stare at him wearily, watching the cooling heads of monsters dangle off his saddlebags and his easy handling of them with disgust. He prefers that reaction. Rather a freak than a curiosity.

When he realizes Mike has wandered off into his own head, Will turns downright chatty, trying to draw him back out: “I think we should maybe take a break once we’ve found El. Winter is approaching fast, and I could just portal us all back to Lod, and then we ride up to Kaer Morhen from there. You haven’t wintered with your brothers in years, I’m sure Hopper will be happy to see you, even if you bring uninvited guests. And it might be a good place to hide El. I know you witchers like to stay out of the business of kings and queens, but…”

Mike only grunts in vague assent as he ropes together the heads of the demogorgon and the pack of younglings it had ran with, then says a quiet prayer that the amount of heads might be enough to make him a freak tonight. He drops them over Paladin’s back, always glad that his horse has long gotten used to the smell and is less harsh in her judgment than some humans are. Taking up the reigns, he follows Will’s lead, still chatting on about how he’s heard rumors Lucas had fallen in with a female witcher, now isn’t there something you don’t see every day, they say she’s a cat, maybe he’ll bring her if he comes this winter.

They’ll clean up at the brook, then head back to Rivia to collect their reward and their bard. Then they’ll continue searching for the tattooed sorceress and maybe, if they can make it in time, actually winter somewhere instead of continuing to work during the snow time. Perhaps that is what he needs, a rest from the potions, the danger, the bleeding. Warm furs and an even warmer body by his side.

It scares him, too, though, how much he depends on the wizard for that now: companionship, comfort and rest. How intertwined their futures seem to be, not just because they’re bound to keep running into each other as they both pursue their professions, or even because they’re both involved in the hunt for the Eleventh of Father’s Mountain. They won’t just split up once Mike has found the sorceress that keeps haunting Will’s dreams – there are plans beyond that, vague things defined only by their commonality: They’ll face all that is to come together.

The only people Mike has trusted like that were his brothers, Lucas chief among them, and perhaps the bard, his oldest friend. Never a lover, though. And especially never a mage.

But when Will turns back to check on him, mouth moving a mile an hour, lips turned up in a genuine smile, his face open – not the careful mask Mike has come to know on other mages, not the manipulative act that seems almost like an instinct to their order – he thinks he has grown to like that quite a bit. To love that, even. And perhaps that is what scares him the most.

Previous Prompt < View Collection on Ao3

written for @bylerween2023

#bylerween2023 #day 7 #Witches Wizards & Necromancers #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #cw Blood #cw gore #my fic

16 notes · View notes

lairbrew · 6 months

Text

10%-20% SALE AT LAIRBREW! This only lasts until Saturday and includes kobold, werewolf, gnoll and wyrmling plushies! This will be my only sale before holiday shipping cutoff.

#dungeons & dragons #kobold #furry #anthro #gnoll #werewolf #red dragon #wyrmling

29 notes · View notes

wearepaladin · 1 year

Text

After Action Report #1 for Baldur’s Gate: City of Blood, a fusion campaign of Descent into Avernus and Curse of Strahd. It went very well and I have high hopes for next week’s game.

Welcome to Baldur's Gate. Our destined crew, drawn by their own goals, or other focused hands, find themselves coming together on the outskirts of the City of Blood. 4 came together by the way of the Chionthar, the mighty river that provides the lifeblood for many cities in the Heartlands of Faerun. An acrobatic but perhaps overly ambitious elf named Aquila, a daring druid disciple of the stars named Tyche, a wily gunslinger with a debonair façade called Nero and their desperate for approval assistant, Huxley the Owlin, and one half drowned noble named Catherine from Waterdeep, rising to breath fresh air after being in yet deeper water.

Elsewhere, the gnome Sergeant Andreth Mykonia kept watch on the outskirts of the city, A joyful dancer named Penelope endeavors to keep their heart light in a grim metropolis, and Hulst, a young crimson knight of the god of mercy finds themselves being drawn forces beyond their control, be it kind strangers, desperate warriors or the desperate in need.

(In other words, the Dungeon Master had several vignettes for everyone to flex their newly made characters into being, and illustrate how they all arrived in Baldur’s Gate. It was very fun, and thanks to Nero’s player, I made a new character on the spot who might become my favorite example of “yes, and ?” Storytelling I’ve done in a long time. I imagine we will all grow to love Huxley the Owlin)

They arrive from various points to the great bridge of Wyrm's Crossing, the main thoroughfare to Baldur’s Gate from the land, and find themselves to be!the right people in the wrong place when a prisoner kept bound in an encapsulated metal box, a person known only to a few among you as Viekang, a dangerous murderer empowered by Bhaal himself, Lord of Murder, on his way to the city. Their skills pooled together when fellow disciples of the murderous god attempted to orchestrate Viekang's liberation. With only a few injuries among the assembled individuals, they managed to foil the attempted liberation of Viekang.

In the aftermath, the newly assembled group is brought back to Wyrm's Rock Fortress, which found itself under assault in what appears to have been a coordinated effort, the Bhaalites defeated but at cost of a 1/3 of the garrison from the surprise attack. Set to be questioned, the crew waits only to hear a tumble of metal and the cracking of a shell as a red wyrmling broke free of a long stasis from a mysterious box that had been found earlier in the adventure, its young bright eyes meeting the party for the first time. We'll have to wait until next time to see what happens next.

NPC's introduced this session: Ireena and Ismark, a pair of apparent siblings who find themselves the sole surviving wardens of the murderer Viekang, and despite doing well for themselves in the fight, likely would have been killed if not the presence of this group of 7 strangers...

Huxley the Owlin: A former accountant turned devoted manservant of Nero, Huxley is devoted to their master and wants to impress them and learn to thrive in this new life they find themselves in. It's a work in progress.

Greer the Iron Merchant: A trader coming into Baldur's Gate with his family for the yearly caravan.

Chieftain Tugush: An old orc chief who remembers the value of mercy, who hopes the best for the young paladin he encountered.

Corporal Smiley: A friend of Sergeant Mykonia, his fate unknown.

Private Green: A now shellshocked private for the Flaming Fist, his first day on assignment having devolved into a nightmare.

Galvan: The leader of a group of deep gnome refugees hoping to start a new life in Baldur's Gate

Viekang: A mysterious prisoner wanted by one of the Grand Duke's of Baldur's Gate, Dead or Alive. Denied rescue by cultists of Bhaal.

An infant red dragon wyrmling: Newborn and nameless, a child of the most feared breed of dragon in the realms. Who knows who they'll grow to be?

(And with that, our first session came to an end, everyone excited for yet more to come)

#city of blood campaign #recap #Baldur’s gate #I have a lot of high hopes for this campaign #city of blood

41 notes · View notes

itusebastian · 4 months

Text

Amid the brooding glow of a volcanic realm, a Red Dragon Wyrmling stands poised, its scales ablaze with the fire of its lineage, eyes alight with nascent power, a fledgling tyrant commanding the threshold between creation and devastation.

5 notes · View notes

foxqueen-katarian · 2 years

Text

Have some dragon!Caleb as it's still Wednesday somewhere.

“And what, if anything, can be done at this point? Ludanis has long held this body in disdain, I doubt censure would hold any weight for him. Further King Dwendal recognizes no arcane power outside of the Cerberus Assembly, and would likely see any condemnation for his crimes as an attack on the Empire itself. While the Council of Tal’Dorei might back an effort to bring a rouge mage to heel, the would not be willing to wage war over the mistreatment of a dragon.” Arcanist’s Allura Vysoren argued gesturing to the currently sleeping subject of conversation. “I don’t question the necessity of there being some form of punishment , but it will carry little weight behind our own circle.”

“I hate to agree, but Allura’s point stands. What Ludanis has done is beyond the pale, but any measurable level of justice will need be mete out by a power beyond what any of us currently wields’”

Before Yussa could respond a loud chiming from a higher floor interrupted the conversation. The noise waking waking the previously sleeping Wyrmling, their eyes immediately snapping to the doorway leading to the center staircase. Clumsily they managed to get their feet under themselves, all the while chirping questioningly at Yussa.

“Yes, I imagine that will be your companions returned from their research trip. They’re the only ones who regularly forget to message ahead.”

No more had the words left Yussa's mouth before, "Fuck! We forgot to Send and let Yussa know we were on our way back. You able to do it now?"

"There is little point in wasting the spell, as he is likely already aware of our arrival."

"Yeah, but like it's the thought that counts right? Better late than not at all?"

"No, and I won't insult his intelligence by pretending otherwise."

"Jester would have used the spell"

"I am not now, nor have I ever been Jester. Further if Yussa was not already aware of our intrusion you r yelling will have alerted him by now."

As the arguing voices drew nearer the Red and Brass mismatched Wyrmling stumbled their way off the sun drenched sill they'd been resting on. They had nearly doubled in size in the two weeks their companions had been away. However they had not yet adjusted to being quadrupedal, and only managed to halfway make their way to the floor with some semblance of grace before one of their back claws tangled with a neck spine and they tumbled the rest of the way into a pitiful whining heap of scale and wing.

#Dragon!Caleb AU #caleb widogast #critical role #trying to organize the various handwritten pieces into the typed sections #There's like three more pages of hand writing but it get decidedly less good after this #it's dialogue heavy and I'm very bad at dialogue

30 notes · View notes