The DeRolos: (from left to right) Sean, Vae’ysildea, Vex, Minty the bear, Eliana, Percival IV, and Edward (Vae and Eliana are twins)
I was going through an old sketchbook to find a picture for my last post and saw the picture I had drawn of Cassandra and the kids a while ago. I wanted to make a piece of the kids but with color so here’s this 🙌
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This is a beautiful prompt, and holy HELL have I missed Mister and Missus DeRolo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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Lord Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III of Whitestone sank down into his armchair.
Next to him, Lady Vex’ahlia peered through the window.
“They’re still out there, darling. Would you like me to try talking to them, this time?”
“It’s going to be the same thing over again, though.” Percy removed his glasses and rubbed his nose. “They’re going to ask us for residuum, and I’m going to have to tell them ‘no.’”
Vex sat down on the edge of his armrest. “And what, again, was the reason that they needed it? Surely it isn’t to raise Vecna, or something?”
“No, no. Not this time, anyway.” He put his glasses back on, askew. “But their explanation was almost as strange. They say they’re going to throw it into a volcano. A volcano, Vex, somewhere in Wildemount! I mean...gods, what does that mean?"
Vex’ahlia considered this. She scratched her chin.
“I think that means they’re passé, darling. Everybody knows that sacrifice-by-sea, not lava, is all the rage these days.”
Percy managed a laugh at that. He shuffled over to invite Vex onto his chair.
“You don’t suppose that they’re serious, do you?” She stole his spectacles, but fondly. “They do seem like an honest bunch. Maybe it’s...religious, or something.”
“Yes, and that’s well and good, dear, but it depends on what sort of religion we’re talking. The Undying King may be dead enough now, but there are plenty of other gods that I’d rather not deal with.”
“No, of course not,” Vex hummed, “especially not with the wedding so soon. Maybe they’d be willing to officiate, though. Pay for the glass with services, instead of coin.”
“It’s very expensive glass, dear. We don’t have that many children.”
Once upon a time, Vex might have laughed at and coyly offered to change that situation. But now, with five whole quarter-elves to wrangle, she settled instead for putting his glasses on.
“Maybe we can call Pike in from Westruun and get her opinion on their story. She and Scanlan are very persuasive. And they have their own versions of truth-spells.”
Percy sighed. He watched the sun cresting lower and lower over the mountains in the distance. Below the windowsill, he knew without checking, was a ragtag family of very strange individuals likely making camp on the outskirts of the castle grounds. The Clays, as they called themselves, had arrived but just a few days ago and refused to move ever since.
Even a mild shower summoned by Keyleth—a bit cruel, Percy admitted in the long run—hadn’t caused the firbolgs to budge.
Though, to be fair, they were gentle enough that Percy didn’t really see the harm of letting them stay. One or two had even offered to assist the new Keeper Yennen—the previous’s daughter—with her clerical duties.
“Still, though,” Percy said aloud, half to himself and half to his wife, “the quantity they are asking for is...enormous. That much residuum takes months to provide, and I certainly don’t want it falling into the wrong hands.”
“Then I’ll write to Pike,” Vex decided. The glasses bounced lightly on her nose. “We’ll see what she has to say, and worst comes to worst, we make Grog chase them away.”
Percy chuckled, and gave her a nod. “Alright, dear...alright. That does sound like a plan.”
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From 8/11-8/15, I’m holding a grand fic giveaway! Check out the guidelines here and feel free to send in a prompt
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