#a blast a feathers???? and THEN VAX?!?!?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blorbologist · 1 year

Note

37 feeblemind vax and your choice

37. Feeblemind

You blast the mind of a creature that you can see within range, attempting to shatter its intellect and personality. The target takes 4d6 psychic damage and must make an Intelligence saving throw.

On a failed save, the creature's Intelligence and Charisma scores become 1. The creature can't cast spells, activate magic items, understand language, or communicate in any intelligible way. The creature can, however, identify its friends, follow them, and even protect them.

[Oh y’all are gonna hate me for this]

It’s been a while since Keyleth has felt like a natural disaster. Do asteroid impacts count? Because she makes the ground buckle and splinter so hard she hopes that damn moon feels it.

She shouldn’t take any pleasure in it. This is work. But this is also saving the world, this is what she was born to do - this is what she hasn’t gotten to do, in a long while, and it feels good to let loose and roar with the fury of the world itself.

As an Earth Elemental, most of her understanding of the world comes down to vibrations - she feels more than hears the metal screaming in protest as its foundations are ruined. Instinctively, she can see the movements of all the very, very squishy people around her, though it takes a moment to differentiate the Ruby Vanguard from her people. Best of all, the boulders of bulk make pain only a slight sandpaper scrape -

Keyleth can’t see Ludinus turn to look at her. Intuit it, from the heavy unease that quiets her thoughts. Birds stop singing when a predator is about - it’s a lot like that, being looked at by a wizard.

It’s familiar, is what she means, and she knows how to react to it.

She can’t. Is the problem.

She can’t, because she -

She can’t.

He did something. Something - something terrible, something just as familiar. With his mouth - words. Couldn’t hear it, not with the roaring end of the world. But he did and this is - she knows but she doesn’t and it’s terrifying.

She sees familiar faces. Another mage, a pretty mage, a safe mage. A dragon, and the mere memory makes her earth arch into scared spines. Too many teeth, too many, and with no order to them, just predator and scared and furious and she feels the same and she -

This shouldn’t hurt. But this thing is prying her apart, stone by stone and sending grit flying and it’s worse than blood because it’s part of her, and she’s smaller with each strike until she’s - she’s not.

She’s not, and that’s shocking, to be herself again, and she’s not - she can get a lot more hacked off her like this, she realizes, as the blade smiles with mud that looks red under the moon and the woman lifts it.

Move. Move. She can move - but it’s a stumble back on her elbows, and that’s not what should move, it’s her mouth. Move in the right way, she knows the sounds she needs to make, so why can she only scream -

(It is better, that she knows what’s coming? Even like this, even when she knows nothing, nothing of what she should. She knows the darkness. She met it in foam and beachrocks, once. It’s not that bad. It might even be better than this terror, this everything wrong, because he might be there.)

(If she were a dragon, at least she could tear them apart. The dragon tore apart her friends. At least she knows what a dragon is - primeval, the fear for great reptiles that dig you out of your nest to eat you even as you wake.)

(All this time before it comes and she can’t - she can’t - she can’t use it for anything but trying, and trying, and not -)

She isn’t scared of birds. Maybe she should be, in the same way scales and teeth send her heart running.

Her world is black feathers. Feathers are downy nests and hair and comfort. A dark night, many dark nights, where she sheds her skin and finds his warm. Wings beat, heavy, and her heart tries to slow to match them.

Feathers mean him mean her world is whole, even when she isn’t.

She hadn’t - they shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

He is.

There’s something on his lips. It should mean the world to her, she knows. It should mean she’s safe.

She can move. They haven’t robbed her of this. She could reach out and touch him.

Frozen not by terrors beyond her, but by confusion, by her own confusion. Her own fear, that she doesn’t know who he is, even when she should, she should, better than her own - it’s on her mind every night, every night, and she can’t think it now and can’t say it to him and the shame mingles with the fear with the easing in her tense muscles and she can’t.

Can’t.

And then she couldn’t if she wants to, because he’s gone, and she doesn’t understand.

Not sure she wants to - maybe, maybe like this, it hurts less.

[Send me a spell and I'll write a ficlet/snippet to go with it!]

#tldr Ludinus cast Feeblemind instead of Power Word Stun on Keyleth. because we KNOW he has that fuckin spell #so. it isnt directly Vax getting Feebleminded. and it's all hurt no comfort. but. :D #critical role #campaign 3 #vox machina #cr3e51 #vaxleth #keyleth #vax'ildan #ludinus da'leth #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #ask game #fic prompt #spell ask game #my writing

24 notes · View notes

tibbinswrites · 1 year

Text

Grief is the Thing with Raven Feathers

Spoilers for Critical Role, C3, episode 51.

If Keyleth could move she’d be screaming.

No. Not again. She couldn’t watch this again.

But as she lay there, frozen and stunned, helpless in a way she hadn’t been in a long, long time, Vax was ripped away from her once more.

It wasn’t fair. This couldn’t be his ending. She’d made her peace with his death, as best she could, aware that he was still the Champion of the Raven Queen. She knew they’d meet again when she became one with Exandria. It wasn’t so much a comfort as an inevitability, and whenever her raven came to visit her, she smiled at the thought of that far-off day.

Silent tears dripped across her face where she lay in a pool of her own blood and crumbled stone as Vax, her love, her heart, was blasted from all sides by some kind of unknowable power and made smaller, condensed, into an orb, an object, for his crime of returning to protect her while she tried to save the world.

The pain of her wounds didn’t register against the shattering bedrock of her mind, her soul.

She barely even noticed when everything went white.

#TibbinsWrites #short fic #Keyleth #critical role #fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

sonicskullsalt · 1 year

Text

favourite things of TLOVM s2e12

(possible spoilers because I watched the campaigns and might reference them)

The chest hair pull

Scanlan's best dream is having a family

Giant Eagle Kiki (and Vex knowing about it)

Give me back my friends!

Grog-teor! (Come on, brain do something smart. - Come on, brain think of things.)

The raven from the intro flying by as Vax gets his wings.

Vax with his wings in front of the sun. Such a great companion piece to the still of him in front of the Raven Queen's image in the Sunken Tomb.

"I have a broom and you get fucking wings." - this is so calm and collected compared to her reaction in the campaign 😄

Umbrasyl hanging up on Thordak

Umbrasyl standing tall and flapping his wings after Ripley calls his healing powers impressive. It's like he wants to impress her. I mean, you really have to respect Ripley for managing to convince a dragon to work with her, for a while at least.

Vax, wait ... remember, the safe word is chenga. 💚🖤

Scanlan telling Pike about Kaylie

The Sphinx's head in the lair 😭

Vex realising that the connection to her brother is cut off.

Percy shooting the dragon before it can devour Vex.

Screw the Matron, she doesn't control my destiny. - No, you do. And you can run from it, or you can rise to meet it.

Just Scanlan's struggle in general. It's difficult to change, and you have got to fight yourself to do so.

Scanlan proving why Mythcarver is his by singing to the blade and making it wound Umbrasyl so much worse, basically blasting his face off.

Also, Scanlan actually using Mythcarver for something. Heavily side-eying Sam.

"Wait, you're alive motherfucker?" - Pike's reactions to Scanlan's shenanigans are just the best.

Even if I don't believe in that Matron stuff, you do. And I believe in you.

Velora looking at Vex's feather.

As Sam Riegel pointed out in the watch party, Raishan!Yennen doesn't have the birthmark on her face.

You can't even sense me, darling. 🐉

#critical role #tlovm #tlovm s2e12 #tlovm spoilers #vox machina #my post

19 notes · View notes

sparrowsworkshop · 1 year

Text

“Find Our Way” by OneWingedSparrow

Fic Summary: Set not too long after leaving Syngorn / rediscovering Byroden. Worried about money troubles, teenage Vex'ahlia vents to her twin brother Vax'ildan. Vax soon realizes that Vex's stress comes from a deeper place than expected. Main Tags: Vax’ildan & Vex’ahlia, Vex & Vax & Trinket, Pre-Canon, Before Vox Machina, Before Main Plot of Kith and Kin, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Siblings, Money Trouble Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The purse jingled loudly, a testament to how much air indwelled the nearly threadbare pouch. Had the purse been plump, the melody would have been less distinct. But it made a clatter rather than a clink when Vex plopped it on the table—a worrisome sound, all too familiar, like sharp, sudden pain from an old wound that should have healed over by now. “All we have left,” Vex said, evenly. Crosslegged on the bench, Vax paused from sharpening his Flametongue dagger. The other two daggers, their blades glinting in the candlelight, rested on the table beside the whetstone and the accusatory purse. “How much?”

“One more night in this inn, at most.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I really thought you’d be able to find work in this blasted city of yours. Yet, here we are once again. High and dry.”

“The city is not the problem,” Vax said quietly.

“They judge you here,” Vex accused, glaring. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know why you haven’t gotten hired, why I can’t get haggle anyone’s prices down. They look at us and see bastard children. Unwanted. Unrespectable. Wandering vagabonds that strayed too far from a home they never belonged to. All because of how we look, how we carry ourselves. Syldor would laugh at us if he saw us now, living up to everything he expected.” “And I would laugh at him,” Vax insisted. He tossed the dagger aside, narrowly missing the candle, and stood. At his full height, he had a good two inches over her. “I never cared what that man thought of us then, nor do I care now. Whatever twisted words he shackled us by, they will not follow us here, Vex’ahlia.”

Her mouth twisted. “They already have!” she exclaimed, eyes flashing. “No matter how far away we are from Syngorn, the prejudice follows. I knew that before we came here, Vax’ildan. But you were so confident we would find work in this place, and I trusted your judgment, so I followed your lead. But now it’s been weeks and nothing has happened. No word, no work, not even a stupid look of despicable pity. What little you pickpocket isn’t enough to live off, much less feed a hungry bear, and I can’t….” She clenched her fists, inhaling deeply as if about to unleash another flurry of words.

Behind her, Trinket groaned, distressed by her outburst.

Vax watched conflicting emotions flicker over his sister’s face, all in a split second. At last, Vex seemed to think better of a further rant, for she spun on her heel and pressed against Trinket instead. She slid, almost comically, to sit upon the floor, while her outspread arms sank into Trinket’s fur in the nearest equivalent to a hug she could give such a massive critter.

Worriedly, Trinket sniffed her head.

“I can’t do anything,” Vex yelled in response.

With that, she buried her face in Trinket’s fur.

Vax released a very long breath, feeling wrinkles crease his forehead. With the silent grace of a practiced thief, he tiptoed just behind her. Trinket eyed him, but Vax raised an eyebrow back, and his nephew snorted, granting permission.

Taking his time, Vax sank to his knees behind Vex. Carefully, as if testing a suspicious wall for traps, Vax gradually leaned over her back and tentatively moved his arms around her sides. When she did not cringe or shove him off, he hugged her, closing his eyes as the feather in her hair tickled his nose. His hug was gentle, echoing his relief of her acceptance, but tight and relentless like his heart now clenching with worry. A grumble escaped her throat, sounding not unlike one of Trinket’s; telltale proof she was wrestling back tears. A fact no one in all of Tal’Dorei, save Vax alone, would likely ever know.

Something caught in his throat too. He sighed into her braid. “We’ll be okay, Stubby,” Vax said softly. “I’m going to look after us. Far better than he did. You know this, don’t you?”

Vex made no reply, but Trinket snuffled, as if voicing his agreement. Thusly encouraged, Vax pressed on, his confidence strengthening the longer he spoke.

“Coin or no coin. Work or no work. Wanted or not wanted. We’ll find our way. We always do.”

“Mmmmmgghhh,” Vex mumbled incoherently.

His mouth twitched with a smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak bear.”

She shifted, pulling slightly away from Trinket’s side. “I wish we didn’t have to find our way,” Vex repeated tiredly, casting a glance over her shoulder. “I wish...we were already there.”

“I know,” he murmured back. “I know.”

They were quiet for a while, while the persistent candle grew lesser and lesser. The hardwood floor was uncomfortable, and grew colder as nightfall approached, but neither the twins nor Trinket felt compelled to move. In odd, unspoken solidarity, they remained, as if staying together granted them ongoing, impregnable protection against the uncaring outside world.

At length, Vax rested his chin on his sister’s shoulder. “They’re wrong about us, you know.”

“Hmm?” Vex yawned.

“They’re wrong,” he said again, catching her yawn before continuing. “The ones who look down on us for how we look or what we do. They’re wrong, plain and simple. We’ve got something great, you and I. And we will find our way. No matter what they think of us.”

Vex tipped her head against his. “Always?”

“And no matter what happens.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I should believe you, darling.”

At that, he had to grin. “As ever, dear sister.” ~

2 notes · View notes

hope-whispers · 4 years

Text

Vax, motioning between Vex and Gilmore: you’re birds of a feather, you two

me: *immediately gets blasted into an alternate universe where Vax and Gilmore get together and Vex doesn’t give him any of the strife she gave Keyleth because 1) Vax is still adventuring with her full time, 2) Vex and Keyleth become a thing instead and, most importantly, 3) Vex and Gilmore get on like a house on fire and take turns teasing Vax and teasing each other and having subtle yet fierce competitions to see who is the most charismatic person in the room at any given moment*

#critical role

16 notes · View notes

holographic-bone-jester · 5 years

Note

Howsabout you stop telling people what they are and aren't allowed to like, under the pretense of protecting something that doesn't need your protection?

Say the people who whine and yell and openly try to ruin paleontologists’s work by hogging all the attention on outdated science to the point it’s mainstream to mock new discoveries, calling hoax, and calling science enthusiasts names referencing facists to try to make yourself look better.

Furthermore, even if that wasn’t the case, none of this is about you.

It was never about you. And it will never be.

It’s about facts, facts that nether you or i, or even paleontologists, will ever control.

Facts do not care about you being butthurt with nostalgia, only you do, because you refuse to change your point of view on things, so you make sure to make this a collective garbage time for everyone and spread misinformation.

This is science denial.

Just like flat earthers, and anti vax, and creationists, and those people who think the pyramids were made by aliens.You are actively spreading misinformation to keep facts limited to your personal agendas.

You think you’re the center of the universe and that science is only good and worth being spread when you decide it is.

What you need to realize, is that you will never be happy like that. No matter how hard you cry and whine, dinosaurs in media are gonna change, i don’t know when, but it will.

Just like it did when Jurassic Park came out, 26 years ago, blasting people away with new, active, warm blooded, bird-like dinosaurs, a far cry from the mainstream sluggish giant lizards still in place at the time. And now JP is synonymous with dinosaurs, but with all it’s substance, and all it’s heritage left aside, because now people don’t want to let go of this outdated science.

I believe awesomebros don’t really think that feathered dinosaurs are lame and not scary or whatever.They just don’t want to accept it because it’s not JP, and they have no excuse for it. But the media will move on eventually, and if you refuse to do the effort to look at things in a new eye, you will be left in the dust.

No matter what happens, you will be the one left unhappy if you don’t want to learn to take in and appreciate facts as they come, because again, facts don’t care about you, and they will never do. There is no winning or loosing this war again dirty scientists ruining your cool dinosaurs, because it doesn’t exist.

The only loser in this mentality, is you.

#paleontology #asks #long post #naughty awesomebros

40 notes · View notes

kimabutch · 5 years

Note

hey sorry to bother you but do you think you could possibly tag your campaign one reaction posts?? i don’t mean to be an asshole, it’s just that you’re like a couple of episodes ahead of me and i’ve been pretty good about avoiding endgame spoilers. sorry for the trouble!

Hey! You’re not bothering me at all!

The short answer (for you): I’ll try my best to tag “vecna arc spoilers” for you, but

I can’t 100% guarantee cause I have a horrible memory, so if it’s super important to you, feel free to unfollow/block me so you won’t see my posts.

I’d appreciate if you messaged me when you’re done so I can stop tagging it :)

The long answer (for all my followers!): I’ve been thinking about the spoiler-issue in general for a while and trying to decide what to do. Apologies that this is long-winded.

I haven’t been tagging any spoilers so far because:

I’m really bad at remembering to tag things beyond fandom names, and I wouldn’t want to lull anyone into a false sense of security by following me then blast a spoiler. I often make 10+ liveblogging posts on Thursdays and probably 50 more about a new episode before the next Thursday. Many of the posts are on my phone, and knowing myself, I’m bound to slip up on one of them.

It’s hard remembering/deciding what constitutes a spoiler for what episode, particularly when it comes to fanart. Is Vax wearing raven-feather wings a spoiler for campaign 1, episode 44, for example? Is Yasha looking sad about flowers a spoiler for the newest episode? I legit don’t know, and again, I don’t want to be an asshole and not tag something that someone would consider a spoiler. Honestly, even contemplating this makes me SUPER anxious.

Critical Role is super long, so the vast majority of it is spoilers for somebody or another. Molly’s amnesia is a spoiler. Caduceus’s entire existence is a spoiler. The very fact that there’s an arc called the “Briarwood arc” spoils the fact that Vox Machina fights them. I would have to tag pretty much every Critical Role post as some kind of spoiler, and that’s a LOT.

I don’t mind if people unfollow, I don’t mind if people block me, because if I was trying to absolutely avoid spoilers then that’s what I would do too. So I kind of figured that if people didn’t like me not tagging stuff, they’d do that.

This last bit is sort of selfish, but I’m just like... trying to have fun. I’m not trying to be methodical at all. Committing to tagging beyond fandom name is something that will bring me anxiety, frustration, and difficulty in an environment where I just want to shout about something I like.

BUT! All this being said! I also do understand why people would ask, and again, I don’t wanna be an asshole. So I’m going to say for now — if you need me to tag spoilers for a limited amount of time and for a very specific arc AND you are okay with the possibility of me slipping up, then I’ll try my best to tag them for you specifically. I can’t absolutely commit to not making mistakes cause that is way too much for my forgetful, anxious self.

If this isn’t cool for you, it’s really really really okay to unfollow or block me — for a short period or forever! I really, really don’t mind.

ANYWAYS sorry that was so long. Just trying to explain where I’m coming from, especially for future reference. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions.

#critical role #not-skeleton

10 notes · View notes

your-enby-antihero · 3 years

Link

Bren helps when hide and seek becomes a bit more dangerous Snippet under cut

The two ran over to him and Lady Vesper said, “Bren we were playing hide and seek with Vax and Freddy but we can’t find Vax anywhere, like anywhere at all. Freddy is going to look for mom but I think she’s busy, but Vax isn’t in any of his normal spots and no one in the castle has seen him. Even Aunt Cass said that she hasn’t seen him and she always knows where he’s hiding.”

Bren quickly wracked his brain, where could the young master be hiding. His first instinct was to clutch for his spell components, finding only a small pouch that the Lord and Lady de Rolo had. Basic enough to pull off a few spells. He rushed around the castle, Lady Vesper and Lady Olivia shouting for their brother.

When they were at the edge of the parchwood an acrid blast of sickly green nearly missed Bren’s head.

#critical role #cr fanfic

0 notes

nevofthewilds · 4 years

Text

Session 11: Difficult Terrain

The town of Northome has been lain to rest and left behind. After collecting themselves and their young ward Gusten, the Heroes of Homes began their climb back into the Blacktail Mountains. It made sense for them to return to where they’d first encountered the Wild Wevir scouting party, and made back in that direction as it was there only lead to work from. They made good time and ground in the afternoon, as the rainy weather of the previous few days had finally let up and the chill air had frozen the muddy ground solid. As they prepared to make camp, the group again huddled around the fire to go over their next course of action.

After briefly floating the idea of returning to Timberfall, Rucker and Vax reiterated their intent on continuing on to the Rattlesnake’s Nest as originally intended. Taerus hypothesized that they might be able to leverage their knowledge about Marshall Trest and the forces at Timberfall Outpost as a way to get close to Hallehaig and learn more about his plans. Perhaps a truce could be brokered between the warring forces? It was also suggested that Vax, with his expertise at sneaking and shadowy dealings, might be able to take out the Wevir leader himself if offers of peace were rejected.

Gusten scoffed at this, the first noise he’d made in some time. The group turned to the youth, who’d chosen to remain apart from the rest of them. He mentioned that Hallehaig was not some lazy politician riling up the common folk: he was a warrior, someone who’d brought together a bunch of random tribes. Pliski had looked up to him, but was scared of him at the same time. Rucker continued to try and connect with the younger of the Glaeth brothers, assuring him he would be safe with them, which failed to comfort the boy who’d so recently lost his elder brother.

Shakan, who’d been busy for the most part studying one of his borrowed compediums from the Rectory, finally chimed in by recounting a story about an envoy of Wevir who were flayed by a sadistic Duke in olden times. It was one of many lessons the Wevir taught to their children as warning against trusting the Kjollden. Speaking to Gusten’s point, Shakan ellucidated the common distrust many Wevir had been raised with would be difficult to overcome with promises of graciousness. That left the group a bit stumped as they contemplated how to fulfill their promise to the Marshal while preparing for their long rest.

Shakan considered setting up a series of watches during the night, but in a moment of contemplation he stared up through the trees at the night sky. A sense of warmth and peace descended upon him, as the flickering of the night’s sky and the forest around him calmed his nerves, and instead of worrying chose to lose himself in his readings. Taerus chose to set his up close to their young ward. The sight of the lonely boy aroused memories of his own lost childhood, the years of battle and loss he had experienced, the seeming betrayal of Willow… in Gusten he saw himself, and once again tried to reach out to the boy.

Taerus told the tale of his youth, joining the military to protect his home and family, and the loss he felt from not having seen them in years. Gusten chose to point out that Taerus’s actions were all choices he made; he had no such luxury, with his family, his tribe, and now his brother taken from him without recourse. Driven to reach the boy, Taerus chose a different tact: Pulling a broken blade from his bag, Taerus explained it had originally belonged to a dear, fallen brother-in-arms, and that he was not alone in his loss. Angry over the perceived sleight of his own despair, still so fresh and raw, Gusten rejected the platitudes of the soldier, pointing out that he and the others had brought nothing but pain.

A tense moment of silence passed, and the boy’s fire cooled, but it was clear he still hurt gravely. With that, they separated and Taerus was left again with his own thoughts and fears.

---

The next morning, Rucker prepared a camp stew for everyone before they set off. Making sure to leave a bowl out for the reclusive human youth, Rucker readied the group to head higher into the mountains. Breathing the fresh, crisp air of his home range, the goliath felt rejuvenated to be returning to the mountains after so long from them. A sense of purpose filled him for the first time since the lich had ravaged his tribe, and he led his party further into the Blacktails with confidence.

Following the twisting trails upwards, they emerged from the foothills they’d been traveling in to true alpine peaks. The ridgeline they’d been following reached a split, where it seemed to lead downwards into a crevasse. Rucker noted that it could be possible for them to navigate up the rocky crags and maintain a course of security. The others noted that steep, sheer rock face that led many meters down below them. A quick survey revealed that none of them had come prepared with mountaineering gear beyond basic ropes. It was decided as a group to head into the narrow passage down into the crevasse.

Moving carefully through the pass between rocky monoliths eons old, the descent led them to a small forest of twisted trees that had sprouted from the moisture caught in the depression. The humidity created a marshy sort of terrain, with small puddles of brackish mud in the grass. Slowed somewhat by this terrain, Rucker’s ears caught the sound of metal and yelling from up ahead. Taerus, eager to silence the inner monologue of perceived failures, took the opportunity to be proactive and summoned his hylgee to scout ahead for them.

With a crackle of blue energy, Aeyeres took off and flew ahead. Through the eyes of his hawk familiar’s eyes, Taerus observed a small force of what looked like Wild Wevirs caught in a large mudfield, weapons drawn and trying to scramble onto higher ground. Before he could locate the source of their concern, a shadow passed overhead- a giant vulture, one of many who’d been lurking over the mudfield, took the opportunity to dive at some unsuspecting “prey,” who instead vanished in its talons.

With a painful start (for the attack was felt by both hawk and man,) Taerus explained the situation to the group. Deciding to explore further without committing to action, the group moved closer to investigate. As they turned a corner, they saw the mudfield before them, where several Wevir were spread across a broken boardwalk and boulders amongst the mire. As they moved closed, the leader of the band, a woman wielding a sword called out to the group and asked for their assistance. As she did, a long, slimy tentacle emerged from the muck and swung at her, missing but catching one of her fellows, who was knocked off the boardwalk.

Recognizing their need for help, the Heroes of Southome felt compelled to help and broke apart to take strategic positions. Vax fell back and used his blessed crossbow to launch precisely placed crossbows at the tentacle, trying to sever its ability to grab others. Shakan moved closer to the muck to try and assist the Wevir, but saw that the mud was filled with writhing, slithering masses of rot grubs. As creatures had been trapped and starved in the mud, the rot grubs feasted upon the flesh of those who fell in, including the soldiers who’d fallen off the boardwalk. Shouting out a warning, the genasi used his flames to further harry the tentacle.

Instructing Gusten to stay behind, Rucker and Taerus charged ahead to directly assault the monster in the mud. Shouting advice to the Wevir’s, they split up and helped to stabilize those under assault. As they moved closer, another tentacle emerged and snapped up another warrior, who screams were ended after being smashed into a rock. At that point the monster arose- a gaping maw of teeth amidst a hulking form of slimy scales. Taerus and Rucker engaged the beast, known as an otyugh, as the Wevir soldiers tried to make it across the mudfield to safety.

As they swung their swords and blasted away at the monster, each heard a chilling voice in their heads, urging them to come closer so it may be easier to feed. Shakan’s incendiary missiles were particularly effective, and Vax managed to hit the central eye stalk of the otyugh, sending it into a pained frenzy with tentacles thrashing. Rucker used this moment to charge forward and take a running leap from a closeby boulder. As he landed and swung through the puckering flesh of the otyugh, his scythe tore through the central stalk and into the front of the beast. A final psychic cry rocked all of their minds as the otyugh shuddered and died, collapsing in a heap amongst the mud. The rot grubs, beholden to no master, immediately began burrowing through it’s flesh in a feast of gluttony.

Carefully making their way to the other edge of the mudfield, Taerus, Rucker, Shakan, Gusten, and Vax escort the remaining Wevir to safety. The leader of the party, a dark skinned woman with feathers and bone in her braids, introduces herself as Kijiwan. She thanks them for their assistance, noting that they’d foolishly rushed ahead into the mire without scouting, as they were rushing to make it to the Rattlesnake’s Nest prior to the Tribunal. Assuming them to be Wevir headed in the same diretion, she suggests they all travel together the last few days to Hallehaig’s base of operations. Grasping the opportunity at hand, the group readily agrees.

#stagstory #sosm #s11

0 notes