#C2E128

[mareastrorum]

Omg, the contrast of Astrid letting Caleb teleport away when Trent was hunting the Nein versus Essek bringing mercenaries to trap her and preventing her every attempt to escape.

[burningsuitfire]

So thinking about Caleb's accent and how he sounds like Essek and Caleb being bad at accents and Essek's accent undercover and trying to connect all the dots.

Look at it this way. In campaign 2, Matt's Essek voice and accent changed wildly almost every other sentence.

Caleb and Cad (and Jester) had no clue undercover Essek's accent wasn't authentic. They barely noticed he was nervous, let alone faking anything. When they met on the Assembly's boat and Mercer rolled for Dezran where they saw his nerves, they still couldn't catch he was faking a Nicodranas persona (also again pointing out "Thain" was 100% Mercer googling noble names and not meant to be a bad cover) even with Caleb's memory, Caleb and Caduceus's extremely high passive perceptions, and Jester's background as a Nicodranas native.

And then of course Caleb's roll with frumpkin revealed it all, but it took that snooping and very high stealth roll to truly realize, and later Mercer has said he didn't expect them to catch Essek, blaming it on them rolling so high on a number of checks.

In contrast, when Astrid (an established elite spy for 15 years) was disguised and undercover in the lavish chateau, she got her fake Marquesian accent noticed immediately by (very unperceptive) Fjord of all people, who's never even visited the country... and yet he had no clue about Essek's accent or persona.

[thelavendersquid]

The M9: We have one of the most powerful archmages in Exandria and his incredibly talented assassins on our tail, we need to be on constant alert

Also the M9 not 5 minutes later: Who do we know with a Marquesian accent that might be pissed at us? Because these two suspicious magic users sitting here waiting for us couldn’t possibly be anyone else

[ravendruid]

I know you can't see yourself, but I've watched you glow and smile in ways I've never seen since you've met these people. Since you've gone out and struck down dangerous beasts and swindled those who deserve to be taken down. Every story you come back with fills me with a burst of anxiety and worry, but also a pride that I can't express. Part of what's really been an unexpected joy for me is realizing that so many years of trying to be the man of the house-- I'm much better being the support of it. I could never do the things you do.

Damn you, Matthew Mercer, for making me cry while I'm doing dishes.

[septembermonologues]

between watching the episode at the time of my binge and the like dozen times ive watched the marisharaygun highlight vid ive only just now caught that sam compared astrid to rolf from the sound of music after she lets them transport to the fire plane and it got me so good i choked

[walkthroughtheforest]

I have just reached the break of 128 and I am maybe the most stressed out of anything that I've ever watched in my decades of living

[lessattitudemorealtitude]

Aw, oof, Liam cringing and looking so sad for a moment as Matt describes Marrion instinctively cuddling Jester in her sleep... internal Caleb instinctively reacting with guilt about putting Trent on everyone’s trail.

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

Check below the cut for eleven awesome Canon Divergent fics!

i know it’s hard to breath sometimes by kmackatie (5770, Explicit) Warnings: None An alternate end to c2e128 Cat and Mouse — Jester’s divine intervention works, and instead of the fire plane, they escape the clutches of Trent and arrive safely at the Vurmas outpost. Reccer says: It’s a delicate and careful take on Essek and Caleb not quite trusting each other but finding comfort in what could be.

the better version of our past by KmacKatie (5840, Explicit) Warnings: None What if Essek got to see hundreds of alternative timelines while casting the dunamancy nap spell in Episode 138 Reccer says: The entire fic is wonderfully surreal, filled with snips of fluff and angst and pining and love

long rest by egg (strwpup) (2887, Not Rated) Warnings: None After the Nein flee from the Sanatorium, Trent decides that he is going to keep talking to Caleb throughout the night. He doesn't need that sleep :) Reccer says: Angsty alternative to the small window of time between the Sanatorium heist and getting back to Eiselcross. Caleb is worried about Essek and is pining and very sad about it

when we bleed, we bleed the same by robinread (9607, Mature) Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death (but don't worry they get better!) What if Caleb failed to dispel Gaudius' charm on Essek during the battle in Cognouza? Reccer says: I just think Essek should get his own 'light them up, pretty'-moment.

only code it knows is rote survival by Chrome (13115, Teen) Warnings: Feeblemind Trent makes good on his post-Vergesson threats and goes after Essek in Aeor. The nein are stuck dealing with a feebleminded Essek. Reccer says: I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort and characters being stripped of any sort of artifice. This fic is a great example of both of them.

More Things in Heaven and Earth by kaeda (76998, Mature) Warnings: None Caleb and Essek end up inside Tusk Love. That's it. That's the fic. Reccer says: Do you like crack? Do you like crack taken deadly seriously to the point where you end up crying? LOOK NO FURTHER.

Clock Hands by royalgreen (allyoop) (62504, Mature) Warnings: No archive warnings apply It's a canon-divergent series of four fics, where Essek and Caleb are just starting a relationship when the episode 97 reveal hits. Further diverges with an alternate take on the TravelerCon arc, as the fourth fic in the series was started during the hiatus. Reccer says: I like that Essek and Caleb talk to each other -- the conversations are hard and Caleb's rightfully processing some hurt, but they still make the effort to have those conversations. I'm also really intrigued by the author's worldbuilding that they did for the TravelerCon arc.

The Arsonist by chromaryllis (80492, Teen) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Caleb falls under a curse that's slowly stripping him of his autonomy, magic and mind. Much to his surprise, when the Mighty Nein take off to track down the mage who cursed him, Essek insists on accompanying them. Reccer says: The pining and tension are top-tier. This fic was started in 2019, so it diverges from canon at a much earlier point than a lot of more recent Sg fics, and the flavour is an intriguing change of pace.

I've Seen Injustice in the World (And I've Corrected It) by jakia (5146, Teen) Warnings: No archive warnings apply A "what if Caleb never spoke to Essek after ep 97" AU that has them reuniting a few years after the campaign ended. Reccer says: It was written at the very beginning of the Eiselcross arc, so the author did their own worldbuilding about how the campaign ended that I really enjoyed.

A Favor Accepted by SamJoinedtheReconCorps (187346, General) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence "Essek had never cared about anyone in his over a century of life - at least that's what he thought until he realized just how much he cared about the new friends he'd found in the Mighty Nein, right as he was losing them. But Caleb offers him a second chance. If only Essek would take it." Canon divergent at episode 97. Reccer says: Long, lovely canon divergence fic about an alternate TravelerCon, with Essek there. And recced three times! Hard Mouth by road_rhythm (216261, Explicit) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con | lots of Dark and heavy topics but mostly in dreams What if Caleb didn't get the Mind Blank spell in Aeor and Trent was a lot harder to deal with? Nightmares! Aeor! Exhaustion levels! The inherent eroticism of monitoring your narrative foil's pulse! PLUM ORCHARDS! Reccer 1 says: felt like a natural continuation of cannon, very true to the characters and Trent was as awful like he should be Reccer 2 says: Really thoughtful characterizations not just for Essek and Caleb but for all of TM9. Brutal but amazing. This is the Trent arc we should have gotten. Reccer 3 says: It's gruesome, intense, horrific, clever, insightful, and perhaps most of all - true to the characters. It stays with you. And yes, some of stays with you because it is deeply unpleasant - but one of my sharpest memories from it is one of peace.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast.

Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week's theme is Old Favorites, another of our recurring themes, so stay tuned!

[nerdandtie]

Stormwood & Associates: C2E128. Escape Plan (Battle of the Stars Part 6)

[risingroleakira]

Help, it's again.

Time to rewrite this introduction post cause a few things have changed :V

Hey there fellow Critters! My name is Rose, and this is my Critical Role sideblog. (they/he pronouns)

About me: I'm a queer artist with a lot of free time, but not enough functioning braincells to use it properly.

I like to draw/paint, play videogames, worldbuild, tend to my OCs, daydream to music - all that good stuff.

My timezone is Central European Standard Time. Most of the time I'm somewhat nocturnal, especially in the days surrounding new CR episodes, but my sleep schedule also flips around a ton and might differ from day to day.

This is my sideblog, risingroleakira, mainly for Critical Role content and discussions of adjacent series. This includes Candela Obscura and MIDST. For my artwork, visit my art blog, risingroseart ...and maybe drop some reblogs while you're there! (This blog also includes my critical role art. I don't update it very often however, so alternatively visit my Artfol - also not perfectly up-to-date but definitely better) For my very messy main blog, where I mostly just reblog random stuff, visit risingroseakira.

Critical Role related info:

When did I start watching?

I caught the first half of C3E1 as it aired, then had to stop watching and take a break for a while due to external life stuff. A couple months later I binged the rest of that and all the other episodes that had aired since then.

What campaigns/series have I watched?

Finished or up-to-date: > Critical Role C3 as it airs > 4-Sided Dive as it airs > EXU:Calamity > EXU:Kymal > Candela Obscura Arc 1 - Circle of the Vassal and the Veil > MIDST Season 1 Work in Progress: > Watched Campaign 1's original version of the Briarwood Arc, as I cannot watch TLOVM due to the visual violence that I can't stomach. > After several attempts over the past few years, I finally have a successful attempt at C2. I haven't finished yet, and I've very much slowed down (or rather, stopped for a bit and am now slowly progressing again), but as of writing, I'm all the way up to C2E128.

Will be watching as it airs: > Candela Obscura Arc 2 - Circle of the Needle and the Thread > MIDST Season 2

Current favorite player characters? (spoilers ahead for the stuff I've watched)

> Ashton and Orym. I love all of the hells, so they're all included in this list, but out of all of them these two are easily at the top. There is strength, but there is pain; there is pain, but there is strength. Like vines, we grow together.

> Caleb. I don't think there's too much to say here, we all love him. Easily my favorite of the Nein, no question.

> Fjord and Caduceus The former the only bitch (/aff) I actually have merch for, the latter an aroace icon hehe. I love them both

> Dorian. It's 🎶been a while🎶since we've seen him, but as most of us do I miss the blue boy. At the start of C3 he was my favorite of the Bells Hells, and now I just miss him so much. > ..Most of the Bells Hells party, really. Between the lot of them it shifts around frequently. Ashton and Orym are pretty much constantly at the top, but it's generally almost the whole group that I love. >Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III. that was from memory, i refuse to not use his full name lol Look, I may not know most of C1, but the Briarwood arc, his design and what we saw of him in C3 were enough. I like that bastard too much to not put him here > Cerrit Agrupnin. I love the entire EXU: Calamity party, but Cerrit is easily my favorite. The Brass Ring endures.

> August/Auggie and Charlotte The Vassal and the Veil and these two in particular mean so much to me

Current favorite NPCs?

Lord Eshteross in C3 was at the top for a long time. Imahara Joe and Captain Xandis are also high up, and I love Milo so much,,, and NPC-Keyleth, obviously. In terms of C2, well, who doesn't enjoy Pumat (plural). I also quite like Yussa. But, of course, the blorbo of the NPCs is Essek

Favorite characters to draw or paint?

Ashton, hands down. I haven't really gotten to draw a lot of characters from CR other than Ashton and FCG, but like. come on. How can you not love drawing the nonbinary punk rock. How can you not enjoy painting their colorful gem and crystal hair and golden cracks and funky eyes and- Anyway that's my introduction post! I’d love to meet some fellow critters - especially newbies that love the Bells Hells as well, seeing as I’m a bit anxious in these types of long-lasting fandoms and therefore more comfy with people who are also a bit new to everything. Still - feel free to say hi whether new or old fan of cr! :]

If you watch the Pixelist Podcast, I'm on their discord every Thursday and during other CR related streams, chatting in the CR text chats. Feel free to say hi there!!

[casukaga]

tell me this isn’t how they made out in the lavish chateau

🌟 Instagram | Twitter | Youtube | Ko-fi 🌟

[sparring-spirals]

Trent, descending the stairs in Full Evil Drama fashion, exuding drama: Intere-

Caleb, immediately: burn, you emaciated bitch

Trent, dispelling the wall and insisting on continuing to be dramatic: So, what brings you here-

Caleb, with 0 hesitation, casting firebolt: WHAT DID I JUST SAY

[jinxknight]

They grow up so fast, don’t they?

[ravendruid]

And as you go to complete the spell, the door entryway opens up, and you see there, darting in, you see Astrid, who looks over and kind of, hand out. You know the presence here. This is the at-the-ready for a Counterspell. You finish reading. The rod begins to glow brightly. And-- (whooshing) All of you feel yourselves being pulled from this reality, as her hand goes limp.

The last hour and a half of this episode gave me so much anxiety.

[professorthaddeus]

though the scars remain

Eadwulf takes the damned tower steps two at a time, pulse pounding in his ears as he scans for Astrid. He finds her on the second floor, crumpled in a heap outside of what looks to be a standard study, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. The final bit of his heart that had been weak enough to melt for what they once had with Bren hardens back into stone.

He rushes forward and drops to his knees. Her face is contorted in a way he has not seen since they were children.

He knew this would happen; he knew when Ikithon ordered a pointless perimeter—and prevented him from going to her—that it meant she’d done something and would be facing their master alone. A quick glance inside the study confirms his suspicions. Faint, frantic scuff marks from a group of people who are nowhere to be seen, the slightest trace of arcane residue from an expended scroll.

“You let him go.”

She spits instead of answering. Red stains the ground.

“Scheiße.” He reaches for a healing potion, uncorks it, but she levels him with a stare before he can bring it to her lips.

“You know better than that.”

“And if I don’t care what he does to me?”

The stare turns to ice. “Wulf.”

He grits his teeth so hard they nearly crack, but he flicks his wrist, and the vial vanishes to be replaced by a bottle. This one, she takes, tips back. Her throat bobs, and he suppresses a wince at how she struggles to keep the booze down.

It’s a sluggish, painful process, but with his aid, she inches herself to the wall and sags against it. Aside from the blood, there are no signs of injury on her body. Unfortunately, a lifetime of inflicting wounds both visible and not means that Eadwulf’s imagination can take the reins quite easily without a visual aid, and images of what their master must have done to her fill his mind unbidden. He swallows back another curse.

“Does he know we warned them?”

“No.” Uncertainty flashes across her face. “He… didn’t mention it. But I doubt he would leave me here if he knew.”

True enough. Desperation makes Ikithon merciless. If he knew, the both of them would have been interrogated and killed for turning traitor without even a moment’s consideration for the waste of Empire investments.

Eadwulf lets out a harsh breath that does nothing to ease the coils knotted in his chest. He reaches out to push sweat-soaked locks out of Astrid’s face, perfunctory enough to be practical, but he can’t help brushing his thumb against her cheek. Astrid waves him away, eyes downcast. He knows that look. The pain is only part of it. Worse is the way Ikithon strips them of their dignity even now, the way he will never let them forget that they are his creations, the children that he plucked from obscurity.

She takes another sip and wipes at her mouth, leaving an angry streak of blood on her sleeve. “How long do we have?”

“Perhaps an hour. Maybe more.” After Ikithon had finished with Astrid, he’d exited the tower, halted the senseless perimeter search, snapped an order to smooth things over with the Zhelezo, then departed.

He will summon them back to Rexxentrum eventually, but he will no doubt take some time to… reevaluate how best to snare Bren. The goblin downstairs is charmed, the Nicodranan wizard is trapped in his own mind, and no one bothered to break the wards of this tower, which are strong enough that the Assembly’s eyes and ears won’t breach. For the moment, at least, they’re alone.

“You don’t know where they went?”

She hands him back the bottle. “No. But he had a tuning fork. I believe they planeshifted.”

“Somewhere pleasant, I hope,” he mutters before taking a swig. After all, wherever Bren and his friends have fucked off to, Volstrucker will be sent to follow. “They can’t keep this up for long.” He tastes iron on the rim of the bottle.

“It’s Bren. He’s resourceful.”

Eadwulf shakes his head. “Perhaps, but the others?”

Astrid has always liked to claim she is the least sentimental of the three of them. My stupid boys and their stupid hearts, she used to say. Even when they’d fought over her meeting with Bren in the dance hall, she’d emphasized the chance they could seize when—and she was convinced that it was a when—Bren made his move against Ikithon. An opportunist through and through, and Eadwulf will go wherever she leads, but he knows that heart of hers better than anyone, the one she buries beneath the brilliance and ruthlessness and strategy. He fears for it.

He thumbs the pendant at his side. He has his way. It’s difficult to argue with her when he knows the political games are her way.

“Besides, he’s gotten worse over the years,” he tries. “Don’t know what the fuck he was thinking, breaking into Vergesson of all places and then just taking off.”

Astrid’s expression flickers—not quite a wince, but enough to give him pause. He shoots her a look, eyes locking on hers until she glances away, furtive.

“You’re the one who directed them to Vergesson.” It’s not a question. It doesn’t need to be. Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. For fire may be Bren’s, but Astrid has always danced in the flames. And Eadwulf, Eadwulf, fool that he is, will rush in after them every time they get burned.

He sighs and shifts, propping his head on the wall with a dull thud. Astrid sinks into him, fitting against his shoulder the way she has a thousand times before. Their fingers entwine, automatic. He didn’t notice it earlier, but with her pressed to his side, he can feel her nerves twitching every few seconds, a lingering reaction to whatever punishment she faced.

Matron. They should never have gotten caught up in all this. But perhaps the notion that they ever had a choice is just another lie. The three of them, they were molded to shape the future together as one, but Bren was left behind in the past. Is it any wonder he’s come back to haunt them?

Every time Eadwulf has watched him—across a room, over a dining table, from miles away through a snowbank—it has been a stranger puppeting Bren’s body. But there are still tantalizing glimmers of the old Bren, of their Bren, in the way he cocks his head and smiles when he’s bested someone, in the practiced way his fingers trace somatic components in the air. In the devotion and fierce protectiveness brimming in his eyes when he watches his companions.

It matters not. They will move forward, the way they always have; they cannot keep dividing their loyalties like this. It’s the Empire or Bren, and they made that choice long ago when they left their boy wailing half out of his mind in front of the burning remains of his home, when they passed his cell in Vergesson every day afterwards.

“You know that we cannot help him anymore,” Eadwulf says quietly, switching into their native tongue. “No more of these… calculated risks.” His mouth twists. But Astrid doesn’t react to the echoed phrase, doesn’t answer at all. “Astrid.”

She exhales, shaky, slow. Though he can’t see her face, he knows her eyes are closed, defeat etched in her brow the way she only allows when it’s the two of them alone.

“Yes, fine. You’re right.”

Under different circumstances, perhaps he would nudge her or gloat at the rare concession. But he hears the hesitancy thrumming beneath her words, and that part of him that formed in his youth, the part that decided he would do anything for his two geliebten, is screaming, screaming that he cannot lose another.

He turns to face her, ignoring her grumble at him jostling her off of him.

“Astrid, look at me. Please.” She drags her gaze up to meet his, and it's terrifying how she’s allowing him to see her cracking from the seam running through her eye. “Bren is lost.” They’ve known it, he’s known it since he saw Caleb Widogast that first time in Rexxentrum, flanked by new friends and a new name. It still stings like acid to say aloud, and it sounds more broken than he intends.

He almost hates how it’s this that transforms the weariness in Astrid’s eyes into something firm. She lifts her chin and lifts a hand, gripping the side of his jaw and setting her own. “All right.” Her voice is coated in steel, and if they both pretend hard enough, they can tell themselves it isn’t a mask. “Bren is lost.”

————— 

also on ao3 | my other cr fics

[vethbrenatto]