#not to rag on the goblin route but man

[myrkulitescourge]

i'm surprised i haven't seen any text posts yet about the Unsubtle Differences between astarion’s tiefling party/high approval forest scene and the one you get after the goblin party.

there’s something so terribly interesting about how the conversation afterward plays out depending on which variation you pursue.

like, most people have seen the tiefling party version by now. astarion basking in the sunlight the morning after, playing off most of what tav says with relative ease, even when they ask about his scars and he tells them about cazador. his cadence is smooth and composed, his smile almost friendly, even though you know, as the viewer, he’s playing a game of manipulation at this point. the only real crack in his demeanor is if tav notices that cazador’s “poem” was written in infernal, which, understandably, startles him.

but recently i watched the goblin party version of this same scene, and everything reads so differently. unlike at the tiefling party, it’s still the middle of the night when astarion tries to leave, thinking tav is asleep—almost immediately after the act, in fact. when tav does speak to him, he’s visibly nervous, halting and stammering in the middle of lines delivered unflinchingly in the other version of the scene. he gestures broadly and fidgets more while talking, his smile comes and goes. there’s even some of his distinctive high pitched, fake laughter sprinkled throughout the exchange, almost identical to later scenes where he's very, very obviously uncomfortable (like if raphael mocks him and magics off astarion's shirt to show the party his scars in act 2, or when confronting the gur children in their cell in act 3, etc etc).

siding with the goblins represents something deeply familiar to astarion, a level of cruelty he's more than familiar with and embraces likely because cruelty and duplicity, to him, go hand-in-hand with the power and freedom he craves so badly—but he won't stay the night with this tav, even if he approves of their actions. no, in this case, he'll keep to what's familiar and attempt to leave them in the forest under the cover of the very same darkness he resents having been cast into by cazador. when he gets caught, it sets him on edge, and everything he says becomes such a blatant lie to save face that tav would have to be completely oblivious not to see through him, or maybe just not care enough to.

but if tav saves the refugees? challenges his worldview and comes out victorious? oh, he'll complain of the poor rewards for his trouble at the party and whine about it being boring, but he decides to stay with tav through the night while they're asleep and on past dawn. he takes a moment to enjoy the morning sunlight, returned to his life after two centuries without. the same is true if you have high enough approval that he asks before the party, in which case, you've almost certainly hit his biggest approval gains: trusting him and supporting his safety. maybe he doesn't trip over his words when he speaks because, well, maybe this is someone he doesn't have to worry about. someone who's already more than proven themselves a foolish, heroic sort with a bleeding heart or otherwise demonstrated that they're already in his corner. in other words, not a threat—at least not to him.

does any of this make sense. i wanna study this guy under a microscope.

#the text may be the same but the line delivery is so enormously different it HAS to mean something idk! idk! #what he knows best but doesn't quite trust vs what's new but seems almost safe seems like the differentiating factor honestly #at least in whether he decides to leave tav immediately or stay with them till morning #which in turn affects how he feels by the time tav speaks to him #not to rag on the goblin route but man #he seems. well. frantic when he gets caught trying to leave asap. #to the point where listening to him feels... pretty bad imo #i'd love to know if it changes his romance later on because that seems like. well. a rough start #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #sort of idk #long post

[hircines-lapdog]

The shadows are your friend. They conceal you from prey. It is this darkness that allows you to hunt and survive and live.

These thoughts rattled through Valya’s head like a mantra as she crept through the makeshift tunnels underneath the Imperial Prison. She clung to them like a raft, insistent that they were true. She was a hunter, one who stalked the undergrowth of the forests of Cyrodiil as a means of livelihood. The darkness should not bother her, yet, it did. There was no breeze carrying the smell of fresh growth or hints of rain, nor was there the soft thump thump thump of deer bounding down the trails. No… the air here was stale and reeked of mold. The only sound of life being the chittering of rats and faint words of goblintongue. These shadows were not her friend. They sought to trap her, suffocate her, be her next jail cell. And yet still Valya trudged on, a rickety bow gripped tight in her shaking hands.

“Stay behind.” The guards, Blades Valya thinks they were called, had said to her. “You can not be trusted.” The thought would make her laugh if she were not so scared. What terrible, terrible things must be occurring for the Emperor, by the Nine, The Emperor, to be secreted away through her jail cell. To have the Blades be suspicious of her, unarmed and in rags. She had been arrested for poaching, after all, not murder. The only blood Valya spilt was that of animals and now goblins as she continued through the tunnels, praying that the maze of stone and mud would eventually lead to freedom.

They instead lead her to a massacre.

Men shouting and fighting under arched doorways stained with blood. The Emperor, sword drawn, backed against a wall. Figures seemingly materialized from the darkness, launching themselves at the Blades only to be cut down. Their apparel was red, the kind where Valya struggled to determine where the cloth ended and the pools of blood began. Something about them sent shivers down her spine. The shadows she was so desperate to leave behind became her haven as she crouched in the corner, pressed to the cold stone as if the earth might open up and swallow her whole. Some primal part told Valya that that would be preferable to whatever fate awaited her at the hands of these red cloaked assassins.

Assassins… that’s what they were. That’s why the Emperor has appeared at her cell and why the Blades were so on edge. Valya’s eyes scanned the room until they settled on the man in regal robes, a bright red amulet resting against his chest. He looked up, his eyes finding her, and for a moment that felt like a millenium, Valya felt as if her soul had been laid bare before this man. He knew something she did not, and they both knew it.

“You again? You’re awfully persistent, aren’t you? Persistent enough to be an assassin, mayhaps.” Valya was dragged from the moment that felt like an eternity by one of the Blades, a woman, standing over her, sword drawn. Had the figures in red all been killed and she hadn’t noticed? Valya’s eyes frantically darted around, desperate to find an escape route. She was no assassin. She just wanted to go home, but something told her the Blade standing over her would not listen.

“That’s enough. She is a friend, not a foe.”

His voice was quiet yet demanding. The kind of voice that would silence a room and draw everyone’s attention without the need for shouting. The Blade stepped back, incredulous, as the Emperor approached. His eyes were kind, yet that did not put Valya at ease. This was a man who commanded the world. No one with that much power could be truly kind.

“Yes… it’s you. The one from my dreams. I know your face and your heart. The eyes of the Nine turn their gazes upon you as more sinister forces turn theirs unto me. Come, walk with me, friend. I would have a soul as bright as yours with me in these dark moments.”

Valya blinked, mirroring the confused looks of the Blades around them. What was she to say to this request? Surely she could not refuse? This was the Emperor himself, addressing her as if she were an old friend. How do you know me? She wanted to ask. What do you mean by dreams? Sinister forces? I’m certainly not ordained by the gods. Perhaps you’re mistaken? Ultimately, Valya decided that these questions could wait, and that it was rude to deny such a simple request.

And so they walked. The Blades did not speak to her beyond barking orders, and the Emperor merely continued with his cryptic words. Though she would never admit it, Valya was concerned that perhaps the most powerful man in Tamriel was losing it. That was, until they were both shoved into a small room with orders to defend the man with her life. It was then that Emperor Uriel Septim VII turned to her, his expression one of sorrow and acceptance, and pressed the ruby red amulet into her hand.

“Take this. It is the Amulet of Kings. Find Jauffre of Weynon Priory. Ask him about my son, Martin. He will know what to do. I wish you luck, hero.”

Valya protested. “What? Why me? Why can’t you-“

“It is my time. These tunnels will serve as my tomb.” He gave her a sad smile, “I have lived a long life, but those in the shadows plot against me, and it seems today their plans will be set in motion. Go then, close shut the jaws of Oblivion. I have faith that the Nine will guide you.”

The next few moments felt as if they happened in slow motion. Valya opened her mouth, prepared to demand answers. What does the Emperor mean ‘Close shut the jaws of Oblivion?’ She was no one. A hunter from the wilds.

Then the wall opened up.

Another red clad figure, blade at the ready, leapt from the darkness. Before Valya could even draw her bow their dagger sank into the Emperor’s back. She had never seen a body drop so fast, like it was made of lead. A shout was heard from somewhere. One of the Blades. The assassin then turned to her, and though no eyes could be seen from behind their visor, Valya knew they were filled with bloodlust. She fumbled for an arrow and drew, just as they leapt at her.

Thunk.

A second body dropping to the floor like it was lead filled. More blood pooling on the floor. Valya felt sick. She was no murderer. It was self defense. Yet she killed a person all the same. And as the last surviving Blade of the Emperor’s escort came, and she numbly recounted what the Emperor had ordered her to do, Valya never looked away from the two bodies on the floor and the mixing pool of blood beneath them both. A Royal and the heretic that killed him. Before she could stop it, a thought struck Valya as she turned to fulfill the mission set before her.

And yet they both bleed red all the same.

#idk I wanted to write this for awhile now #I think a lot about my early hok and just how scared she was ajskd #tes #the elder scrolls #oblivion #oblivion fanfiction #oneshot #my writing #Valya

[xsugarysweetsx]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 2

Previous Next

Warnings; Some language; kidnapping; mention of blood (but not violent; horribly written action

°°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°

“Uggghh I shouldn’t have drank last night“ you groan as the blaring of your alarm makes your head pound harder than it was. You blindly feel around for your phone to stop the annoying sound. Finally turning off the retched noise you sit up in bed and stretch upward.

“Another day...“ you said in a monotone morning voice. Throwing your legs over the bed you walk across the cold floor into your bathroom to get ready for work. You worked at a local cafe, it didn’t pay as much as you would want but, it got your bills paid. You brush your teeth, shower, and get dressed.

You refill Mochi’s bowls with food and water and you were on your way. After you lock your door you walk down the hall to the elevator. It seemed to be closing but was stopped by your neighbor, Eren. He was a fresh college graduate just a couple years younger than you

“Morning sleepyhead” he teased “Long night?”

“Don’t ask“ you said fixing your hair into a ponytail. Digging through your purse you find your keys and look up at Eren “How's job hunting going for ya” you ask as the elevator opens up to the parking lot. 

“Ass, they’re all ran by obnoxious old bastards“ he scoffed with a pout 

“Well if you keep going to places with that mentality it’ll be like that for a while.“ unlocking your car you get in and start it up “I can always try and get you a job at the cafe“ you offer closing your door

“Nah, I’ll be fine I’m heading to a tattoo parlor to see where I can start there. See ya“ he waves over his head as he walks the other way to his bike 

“bye.“ you said aimlessly as you start to pull out of your spot and on your way to work. The streets busy with all kinds of people business owners, office workers, cops, and the list goes on. The cafe wasn’t too far, just a 10 minute drive was all. After you park you get out of your car and a sigh leaves your lips 

“Another day, another order“ you sigh opening the door and walking to the back. The shop was small but cozy, the smells of teas and coffee filled the air as buzz of baristas and customers filled your ears. You throw on your apron and get to the front where you took orders. 

“Hey, how’d you sleep?“ Christa asked, one of your coworkers “Sasha told us about the date, I’m sorry you had to experience that“ she was always so sweet and compassionate

“Hey can’t win them all, besides he was full if himself“ you smile to the next customer that comes to the counter “Good morning what will you like?“

“Small Black tea, no sugar“ the man said in a monotone. Working here you saw all walks of life. This man was dressed in a grey button up with black slacks, dress shoes, sunglasses and had an umbrella in hand. He was also noticeably pale, maybe he was sensitive to the sun and got sunburned easily. You weren’t one to judge. 

“That will be $5.15 sir“ he hands you the exact amount and stands to the side to wait. After about 5 minutes you serve him his tea and that was when you made eye contact. Striking grey-blue eyes met yours and for a moment your heart skipped a beat. He looked down quickly and grabbed his tea 

“Thank you“ and he left. You walk back to the counter not even noticing the burning of your cheeks

“ooo was that a romantic encounter I saw?“ Sasha nudges you as she passes by. You simply scoff and shake your head and move on with your day

“Can I help who’s next!“

<><><><>

Tch today couldn’t be anymore shitty. It’s sunny as hell, I saw her again, and I’m pretty sure she recognized me

Levi thought to himself as he walked along the sidewalk, his umbrella overhead. He walks a few blocks until he reaches a bar and grill he walks past the bar and to the back of the kitchen. Walking past the chefs and serves, he goes into a backroom with an elevator. 

For lack of a better term, it was an underground. Where more people like him were free to roam. They lived exactly like people, they had jobs, houses, some with families, only they were vampires. A secret society if you will. This was a faster way of getting to the city and back to his Coven. His consisted of about 5 major people, Erwin called the shots, he kept things in order, Hanji did research when needed, and Mike who was a security guard in a way.

Everyone else joins in at some point or were taken in by Erwin. They were pretty well known among other vampires. Walking along the way he makes a stop for some blood. Even though he despised even the thought of it, he had to survive. He would go to a blood supply shop and mix in some with his tea kill the taste of it.

Thanking the shop owner he leaves and continues his way back home. Suddenly something heavy is thrown over his shoulder, causing him to stumble a bit. 

“Levi! Did you check up on our girl?“ he knew that voice too well. Zeke of all people. He actually used to be part of his Coven, and probably one of the best but after a certain incident he was kicked out. Ever since he’s been getting on Levi’s last nerve, especially when it had to do with people going missing.

Technically it would be humans’ problem to solve, but if they find out why and how they went missing, it would only be bad for vampires. Possibly even death for them, even though half of them are over 100 years old. Nonetheless, he can’t have someone constantly slipping up, but at the same time he doesn’t want to babysit a full grown man.

“Listen you bastard, she isn’t yours no is she mine. I got a tea without knowing she was there. Now get your big ass off me before I break your arms.“ he threatened brushing past Zeke and making way back on route. Zeke simply stood there, with a smile, the type of smile that couldn’t mean anything good

“Oh it’s just a matter of time, Levi“

<><><><>

“You sure you want to close Y/N? I can always stay“

“It’s no problem I know you have a baby waiting at home so I don’t mind“ it was already time to close.

Your manager insisted on staying with you but you knew she was busy and just had a baby. She thanked you again and you started to lock up everything. Closing the cash registers, wiping down the counter and locking the door. It was cold that night and you wish you brought a jacket.

Surprisingly the street wasn’t as full as usual. A chill ran up your spine, making you feel uneasy. You slowly pick up the pace, you and your car insight but you no judo to shake off this feeling. Like a cold icy glare at the back of head. Almost like an ice cube running down your spine.

You end up running to your car, and make it to the door panting. You turn around sharply and take in your surroundings. Nothing—not a soul.

“*Sigh* get a grip damn it! Just get home and you’ll be fine” you scold yourself as you open your car and get inside. Checking the backseat no one was there, you don’t waste any more time and drive off. The drive was short and you may have speed in a little.

You’re finally home, you make sure to lock your door twice. There was still something strange going on, usually Mochi was at the door meowing at you for being gone all day.

“Mochi?” You call as you walk through the apartment only to find him in your room. “Oh there you are” you go and pick him up but his gaze is fixated on window. His body was tense and he even had a low growl in his chest. Looking there was nothing to be seen so you brushed it off as him being a cat. Yet, you looked one more time and your heart dropped in lot your stomach.

Zeke. There he was standing at your window. He raises his fist and smashes it through your window. You let out a shriek as you run with Mochi into the kitchen. You open the drawer and grab a knife and turn around frantically. Your hand was shaking, your pulse was racing, and you’re adrenaline was through the roof. The apartment was dark and cool and the room was deafeningly quiet. The silence was broke as a growl like voice said

“Now, now princess don’t play hard to get. This will only take a moment” he said a bit to slightly as he started to inches away to you. He pulled out look look like to be a small white rag and you could only think of one thing “could this really be my end?”

Without thinking you drop Moshi end jump forward to try and learn him. But you miss, and he is somehow behind you in the blink of an eye. He holds your hands behind your back as he smacks the rag on to your mouth.

You struggle against his vice grip, but you couldn’t seem to shake them off or even let you kick on him. You try not to breathe and won’t ever was in that ride but you felt your consciousness slowly slip away from you. Your vision begins to go blurry, your head was light, and your leg start to get out. 

Is this how I die...? Is this....my end...

“Shhh that’s it Y/N, that’s it. Just sleep until I get you back” he chuckled “they’re all gonna get a kick out of this”

<><><><>

Taglist: @mysteriousmagicx @kameko-ko @jin-mowi @mystic-starlove @chronic-claire-universe​ @shrimp1026 @captainchrisstan @givemea-dam-break @actual-trash-goblin @leiaausmus @sugarysweets-appreciation-blog @levisfilm @kingdoms--night--star @leviiiiiiiii @dilirx @super-peace-fangirl @ultimateelitepenguin @happygalaxymilkshake @lola2001 @sillykawa @queenofcurse @fanfictionreaderholic

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagines #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi as a vampire #aot vampire au #vampire au #aot #snk #aot x reader #when worlds collide #when worlds collide by sweets #snk x reader #anime #anime x reader #fanfiction

[feebledungeons]

Feeble’s Ultimate D&D DM Golden Rule #2: Building Encounters

Following on from the first one of these I did, I want to talk about the basics of creating complex encounters in your game.

First off, I just want to break down what an ‘encounter’ means to me. In my head, an encounter is always a kind of puzzle for the players to solve.

No matter how intricate, these puzzles can always be broken down to the following simple concept:

THE PC’S MUST OVERCOME AN OBSTACLE TO REACH A GOAL

The obstacle could be a goblin band, a broken bridge over a raging river, a city full of hostile townsfolk, a heavily guarded castle vault, or even an ever-changing maze of dream and nightmare pocket dimensions (shameless plug disclaimer).

Likewise, the goal could be any number of things: Continuing on down a path, making it to the other side of a cavern, gathering information on a missing friend, getting their hands on the largest diamond in existence, or even escaping hell.

The important thing is that the PCs have something they want to achieve and there is something stopping them from achieving that, creating CONFLICT and forcing the PCs to take action to solve the puzzle.

The method of solving these puzzles will always include one or more of the three basic activities that PCs engage in:

Combat - including combat mechanics, offensive spells or abilities, and anything to do with fighting

Problem-solving - including skill challenges, investigation, riddles, tangible puzzles, defeating the environment, and things that deal with overcoming physical or mental challenges.

Role-play - including more esoteric elements of the game like interacting with NPCs, calling on PC personal histories or doing ‘cool character sh*t’.

The PCs can include any combination of these types of activities, and ultimately it is their choice how they handle an encounter, but the DM can encourage different approached by pointing out different aspects to the environment and using flavour text. I’d recommend that DMs play around with encouraging different mixes of activities to keep players with different preferences engaged.

See below the cut for some rad examples!

Golden Rule #1

[Quick disclaimer here: Your PCs could use any solution under the sun for the below encounters, that’s the beauty of tabletop role playing games! The Primary Activity and Probable Solutions only give a basic guide of the most likely predicted solutions, assuming the PCs follow a linear and obvious route. Coping with players deviating from the probable solutions will be addressed in later posts, don’t worry!]

SIMPLE ENCOUNTER: THE ABYSS!

(x)

The DM says: You enter the cavern to find that the path before you is broken. A 20 foot chasm stretches the width of the cave. On the far side of the chamber, you see the only exit leading onwards.

Goal: Reach the exit.

Obstacle: Abyss.

Primary Activity: Problem-solving.

Probable Solutions: Athletics to climb. Grappling hooks. Flying spells. Magical bridges or vehicles. Flying animal or magical companions.

SIMPLE ENCOUNTER: THE BERSERKER!

(x)

The DM says: You follow the screams to a clearing where you see a huddled group of terrified children. Before them stands a ragged man, wielding a great-axe and clearly crazed. As you approach, the madman raises the axe above his head and yells a battlecry as he advances on his victims.

Goal: Save the children.

Obstacle: Psychotic maniac.

Primary Activity: Combat.

Probable Solutions: Kill the maniac. Subdue the maniac. Distract the maniac until the children can escape.

SIMPLE ENCOUNTER: INTERROGATION!

(x)

The DM says: The elven thief sits bound before you, glaring up defiantly. She knows where the hostages are being held but, as a long-time gang member, you know that she’s not likely to give up her compatriots easily.

Goal: Locate the hostages

Obstacle: Reluctant informant

Primary Activity: Role-play

Probable Solutions: Intimidate the informant. Persuade the informant. Deceive or bribe the informant. Truth spells or potions. Divination or true-seeing.

MEDIUM ENCOUNTER: CSI FAERÛN!

(x)

The DM says: You barrel through the door, following the sound of screaming. In the centre of the room lies a corpse, stabbed to death with the bloody knife still lodged in his back. The room is in complete disarray, with furniture strewn about and smears of blood on the walls. A wailing woman crouches by the fallen man while two stocky dwarves stand in attitudes of shock. The window is shattered as though someone had just jumped through it.

Goal: Discover the murderer

Obstacle: A mystery!

Primary Activities: Problem-solving & Role-play

Probable Solutions: Use Medicine to examine the corpse. Investigate the scene. Interrogate the witnesses. Gather clues and motives. Seek out suspects.

MEDIUM ENCOUNTER: VOLCANO LAIR!

(x)

The DM says: The volcano rumbles around you and gouts of lava spew forth from the walls of the chamber as the cult members finish their ritual. In the centre of the magic circle a terrible flame belches forth and the demon king rises. He screams out insane laughter and, at the sound, the spumes of lava swirl and dance in a tornado. As one, the cultists turn to face you.

Goal: Banish the demon king

Obstacle: Hostile cult, demon king and lava

Primary Activities: Combat & Problem-solving

Probable Solutions: Fight the cultists. Dodge the lava. Investigate the magic circle. Ice spells to cool the lava. Trap the demon king. Collapse the chamber.

COMPLEX ENCOUNTER: BATTLE ON THE OPEN SEAS!

(x)

The DM says: You are one day’s fair sailing out from your destination and everything seems ship-shape when your lookout cries down to you from the crow’s nest. A sail! On the horizon another ship has been spotted. It’s heading straight for you and, the lookout shouts with a tremble of fear in their voice, they are flying the black flag of the Blood Brothers, the notorious slaver-pirate gang.

Goal: Reach port successfully

Obstacle: Bloodthirsty slaver-pirates

Primary Activities: Combat, Problem-solving, Role-play

Probable Solutions: Athletics to climb the rigging and perform sailing tasks. Perception from the lookouts and navigators. Hand to hand combat. Combat spells. Utilising cannons. Steering the ship. Inspiring the crew. Manipulating the weather. Outrunning the slavers.

COMPLEX ENCOUNTER: CASTLE HEIST!

(x)

The DM says: You study the map before you. The blueprints show a complex sewage system, filled with roaming monsters, high walls that are patrolled by guards, and a solid gatehouse, decked out with portcullis and moat. In the centre, deep within the castle’s underbelly, is your target. The vault and the fabled Diamond of Carnack. Your contact informs you that the Queen is hosting a tourney this week, where the winners will be feted and feasted in the grand hall.

Goal: Steal the diamond

Obstacle: Fortified castle

Primary Activities: Problem-solving, Role-play, Combat.

Probable Solutions: Sneak through the sewers. Climb the walls. Imitate a guard. Befriend/seduce a noble or guard. Pretend to be servants/entertainers. Win the tourney. Disrupt the feast to create a distraction.

Golden Rule #1

#Dungeons and Dragons #New GM #GM Advice #DM advice #new dm #encounters #building encounters #story structure #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs

[arosesthorne-blog]

the crew of the Bloodied Thorn (pt. 2)

(Continued from part 1, here)

Papa: This rugged, ragged old lalafel is likely, within only moments of engaging in conversation, to make repeated note of his title of ‘the strongest lalafel in Hydaelyn!’ It’s a mystery to the crew which officiating body sanctioned Papa’s use of this title, if any, and how exactly he came about gaining said title. Worse yet, when a storm whips furiously at the Thorn’s rigging and she begs for a strong arm to keep her steady, Papa can often conveniently be found cowering in a corner, failing to put his claims to the test. In fact, if this leathery old man has any suitable claim on any title of supremacy in all Hydaelyn, it’s mostly like biggest coward. Papa’s much bigger than the average lalafel, a point of personal pride for him; he uses it as justification to bully and tease the other lalafel crewmates, but he’s quick to cower and mumble deferential apologies whenever Conner shoots a glare his way. With a hide tanned from years in the sun and sunken brown eyes, Papa does have one exceptional feature which no doubt inspires the envy of countless men - a hell of a mustache, big and white and thick, twirled up at its ends flawlessly, its majesty emphasized all the more on account of Papa’s shiny bald head. Papa’s one of the Thorn’s oldest crew members, with a history onboard the ship that predates Kina’s legendary ‘hostile takeover’; she’s never been very enamored with the old bastard, and isn’t afraid to smack him around if he annoys her. Still, she keeps him around because he does make her laugh once in a while - usually because of how quickly he shifts from ‘strongest lalafel in Hydaelyn’ to ‘simpering wimp’ at the bark of her voice.

Polly: Every good pirate crew needs a squawking bird, right? Right?? That’s Kina’s philosophy, anyway; she remembers all the good pirate stories she used to indulge in secretly as a kid featured smart-alecky avians. Insisting that her crew have much of the same, she recruited.. well, something a little different. A runaway ixali, the crew would probably know a lot more about Polly if they could understand his squawks, bawks, screeches and shrieks. After years of listening to him crow and ca-caw in terror, anger and frustration, the crew have started to piece together some things about the outcast. Beast tribes naturally have their own appreciable share of criminals, and these societies are.. decidedly less compassionate about how thieves are punished. Not wanting his hands (or head) chopped off, Pahualemuc (that’s what the crew thinks his full name is, anyway,) took off across the Shroud after stealing.. something, important, but no one’s quite sure what. and wound up running into Gridania like a chicken with its head chopped off (which he had indeed been close to becoming.) He probably would’ve ended up gutted by a Wood Wailer if not for Kina’s timely intervention; he’s been a part of the crew ever since. Having worked as an herbalist, botanist and alchemist with his tribe, Polly has three main jobs on the Thorn - preparing medicinal herbs and pastes, brewing up the grog, and running around shrieking, terrified, during battle. Polly is terrible in combat and even the faintest sign of danger will have him screeching uncontrollably, flailing and running for the hills. (or the stairs below decks, if he can help it.)

Haversham: Sometimes you need a few maniacs on your side. Okay, maybe you don’t, but when one happens to be a tiny woman with a massive inferiority complex in charge of a dangerous pirate crew, one would certainly have use of a psycho, wouldn’t one? Especially one who.. well, who really likes fire. Boats, being made mostly of wood, tend to fold quite quickly if one happens to employ a psycho with a pyro streak wide as the Garlean Empire. Haversham really. REALLY likes fire. Thrown out of the Thaumaturgist’s guild, and every other conceivable school, association and club for black magic across all of Eorzea, nothing has stopped him from doing what he wants to do - mainly, string up as many living beings as possible and roast them like pigs on a spit. A short, spindly, scraggly little midlander, Haversham’s body has withered to almost skeletal proportions, and the only hints of color on his pale complexion are the swathes of reddened scar tissue and burn marks that litter his flesh. Eyes always wide with sadistic wonder, Haversham talks in a rattled, manic tone, his words always throbbing with paranoia. He looks like he’s perpetually on something, though the only high he rides is his addiction to pyromania.

Ogglepot: Any pirate crew needs a good appraiser; an expert in antiques, jewels, gems, and riches capable of finding the ‘good stuff’ and making sure the crew get top-tier coin for top-tier treasures. In her search for a new appraisal expert, Kina didn’t precisely endeavor to find the greediest, stingiest, rudest goblin in all of Eorzea - but that’s certainly what she found. Ogglepot hails from a small goblin band from La Noscea, but he always knew he needed more. More gold, more coins, more jewels, more more. The simple life of a trader or a hunter wasn’t enough for him. He haggled and bartered for his tribe for years, but he never got to use any of the wealth they acquired - something he fiercely resented. One night he shamelessly robbed the band’s treasury and lugged bags-upon-bags of gold to Limsa, looking for more, more. Ogglepot always had a good eye for value, but it was in seedy alleyways and dark corners of the Limsan markets, trading in black-market riches, that he really made a name for himself. A ruthless businessman like Ogglepot, however, is bound to make enemies - and he did, many of them. One powerful rival, an unscrupulous trade-baron named Mischk, wanted Ogglepot done for, and his business destroyed, in case anyone tried to move in and take over the goblin’s shipping company. Through his underworld contacts Mischk tipped off Kina and her crew that a wealthy, dangerous marauder would be sailing Kina’s routes - and that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. Kina and her crew ransacked the ship, but quite at-odds with what they’d heard, they found rude, grumpy old Ogglepot in charge. Kina took the goblin prisoner, but with his help, she soon realized she had been duped. Ogglepot happily offered to help her get her revenge, and.. suffice to say, Mischk isn’t a player in the Limsan black-market anymore. Seeing the opportunity he was always looking for, for more, more, Ogglepot offered his services to Kina, and has been sailing with the Queen since, helping her with finances and his broad array of underworld contacts.

More to come laaater~

#kina #the crew #writing

[heartofgolduria]

Found Family

On the route from Wispil to Kerse Aithne - pronounced “En-YA”

She’d told Akane and Vivi not to worry and that she’d be back before dinner, but as she trudged down the well-worn and muddy path to the address the barhand had hastily scribbled for her she wondered if she might be walking forever--Bellis wasn’t that big, was it? The sun was hanging low in the sky, elongating the shadows of tall Verdruan trees and casting gold, ethereal light onto the puddles in the old road. Finally, she stopped at a small house, tucked into the trees about two hundred paces back from the edge of the road. Linen hung from a clothesline, flapping lightly in the breeze on one side of the house and on the other, a grove of small fruit-bearing trees was nestled against the edge of the forest. She could hear a woman singing, loudly and off-key, somewhere in the fruit grove.

Aviyah cautiously made her way up the path to the house toward the singing, stepping carefully around what looked to be deliberately dug holes in the ground, some with half-buried trinkets in them, and she raised an eyebrow in curiosity, realizing that she had no idea who she was supposed to be meeting here. She knelt down to inspect one of the items in one of the holes--half of a shoe filled with various buttons--and was immediately startled by the sound of someone or something screeching from the trees. A finely-dressed goblin came screaming from the fruit grove, yelling incoherently as he snatched the makeshift pouch from Aviyah’s hands. She raised her hands defensively, showing no weapons, as she was berated by the angry creature, who was snarling and spitting what she assumed had to be curses at her through his sharp teeth. 

“Gnish?” a voice called from nearby. “Gnish what is it? You’d better not be--” The woman Aviyah had heard singing earlier emerged from the trees, a large basket of dark purple fruit perched on her hip. The two women locked eyes for a moment and the basket fell with a thump into the grass. 

“It’s you,” she said quietly, taking a small step forward. The light from the setting sun illuminated her hair into a blaze of orange braided into a messy pile on top of her head. Her skirt and hands were stained with whatever she had been picking and her eyes were wide as she stared down the other girl. 

Aviyah pulled the letter out of the pouch on her hip and held it out to the girl to inspect the seal, but she didn’t. Instead she rushed forward and threw her arms around a stunned Aviyah’s neck. Aviyah settled into the embrace after a moment of surprise and they stayed that way for a moment before the other girl--Aithne, she had to assume-- pulled back with tears in her bright eyes. 

“Come inside,” she said. “I’ll put on the kettle. We have so much to talk about.” 

The small farmhouse was quaint and sparsely decorated. Inside the door, Aviyah was ushered into a small kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly on almost every countertop. A brass candelabra dripped wax onto a dining room table crammed into the corner. Aithne pulled out one of the mismatching chairs for her guest and set to work lighting a fire in the small wood stove, cursing under her breath for several moments before the inside began to flicker with the beginnings of a fire. She filled a small pot with water from a pitcher and set it over the grate and then turned to Aviyah, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know it’s not much to look at. Tarik was supposed to be bringing me some hooks for all these wretched pans. I keep saying I don’t need any more but there I am, bringing them home anyway. Oh, Tarik is my husband. He’s not home right now but he should be back soon. You’ve met Gnish already. I would introduce myself but, well?” She gestured to the letter that was still gripped tightly in Aviyah’s hands. “And you’re Aviyah.” 

“You have a lovely home,” Aviyah replied, immediately feeling foolish. She didn’t know what else to say. If she was being honest, she didn’t know what she thought her brother’s company had been like, but she knew this was not what she’d been expecting. 

“Thank you, I--hold that thought!” Aithne turned back to the stove where the small pot was steaming and dipped her finger into the water, hissing at the high temperature and retrieving the pot from the stove. “Sorry! If you let it boil, it’ll absolutely ruin the flavor profile.  My mother didn’t teach me much about cooking but she did teach me how to brew tea.” As she talked, she was pouring the scalding water into small cast iron cups. Aviyah’s lips quirked up in a small smile. So maybe her brother had made some decent friends after all. 

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the cup from Aithne’s waiting hands graciously, letting the warmth seep into her, feeling the clammy cold that had been plaguing them since they left Wispil slowly being swallowed up. Aithne sat down at the table next to her and they both sat there silently for a spell, absently stirring at their cups. 

“I didn’t think you would come,” Aithne finally said, much more somber than she’d been moments prior. “When I saw you, I thought I’d seen a ghost. Has anyone ever told you how much you look like him?” Aviyah shook her head. No. He’d been barely thirteen years old the last time she’d seen him alive, in that awkward stage between man and boy--probably nothing like the Murdoch that Aithne had known. She had a hard time remembering his face at all.

“I’m sorry,” Aithne spoke softly, her eyes downcast. She fidgeted with a loose thread on her apron. “I’ve been imagining this meeting for so long but I never actually decided what I would say. Nothing feels like enough. Murdoch was--is--like a brother to me but I can’t imagine…” She trailed off and looked up at Aviyah, consciously making eye contact with the other girl. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Aviyah replied, turning the letter over in her hands. “You did more for me than you know. I needed to thank you for treating him with dignity.”

“It’s the very least I could do for someone I owe my life to. I only wish I could have done more,” Aithne looked up as the younger girl took her hand in hers. 

“I understand,” she said softly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “You did everything you could. I am just thankful he had a friend as kind as you.” The girls embraced  for what felt like ages, neither wanting to let go. For Aviyah, it was like hugging her brother one last time. She imagined that maybe it was that way for Aithne, too. Aithne sniffled gracelessly as she pulled back, her face tear-streaked and she smiled a little as she looked at Aviyah, cupping the girl’s cheek in her hand. 

“He always said you’d come home,” she said through her tears. “I doubted him, but there he is proving me wrong again, even now. I can hear the ‘I told you so’ if I listen hard enough.” They both laughed a little, settling back into their chairs. 

“Yeah,” Aviyah agreed. “That sounds like him.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember what he’d sounded like that day. He’d been irritated with her. Father had asked them to stay behind while he met with the supplier but she’d wanted to go to the street vendor just down the dock. She’d begged him to take her but he wouldn’t leave. “What if someone stole our boat? What then?”  Every part of her wished she had listened to him. 

“He never got to see how I turned out,” she said softly after a moment. She mentally chided herself for being so vulnerable with a virtual stranger, but there was something about Aithne, that invited vulnerability and welcomed it with open arms and warm cups of tea. “I never told him I was sorry.” 

“He knew,” Aithne assured her, taking the other girl’s hand in hers and brushing the back of it softly with her thumbs. “I’m sorry you never got to see how he turned out, either. He was an amazing sailor--probably the best I’ve ever known. We travelled together a lot. He talked about you all the time. His favorite stories were always about you. I never got tired of hearing them. When he--well, I didn’t know what else to do. It made sense to write to you. His, uh, your father had already passed and there was no one left so--” 

“Thank you,” Aviyah cut in before she could tell her any more. There was only one thing she needed to know. She cast her eyes down before asking, “Was it painful? Did he suffer?” 

Aithne stiffened and looked away but didn’t let go of Aviyah’s hand. After a long pause she answered, “No. It was all so fast. I didn’t even have time to react before… Bandits, I think. We were transporting something really valuable and the wrong people found out. They attacked before we even knew they were there. They tore the boat apart looking for it. I don’t remember much, just the fire and pulling him on shore. They never found the cargo, but they took everything else from me that night. He would tell me not to blame myself but…”

“He’s right,” the rogue said, picking up her pack from the floor and rummaging through it before pulling a long scarf out of the bag. It had been washed since she first opened the package in Wispil. She had attentively darned the frayed edges in a bright embroidery thread gifted to her by one of the gnomish seamstresses and finished the end of the pattern with the end of Murdoch’s story. She turned it over for a moment, feeling the raised runic patterns under her fingers. “My father used to say that to wear a kapenia was the highest honor in the world. To wear it meant that you belonged to Varisia and its people. Murdoch was the last of my blood kin, but he wasn’t the last of my family.” She placed the kapenia in Aithne’s hands and took a ragged breath before she continued, “This belongs to you now. May Desna guide and keep you.”  

Aithne’s eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open as she shook her head. “No, I couldn’t,” she said, her voice cracking a little as she held it out to Aviyah with shaking hands. She was met with a kind smile and fingers closing over hers, over the scarf. 

“You were there for him when I couldn’t be. You cared for him, you buried him. You are family to him and so you are family to me and to Varisia.” They embraced one more time, Murdoch’s kapenia pinned between them. 

“Thank you.”

#aviyah #journal #pathfinder oc #pathfinder #dnd