#D&D based its dark elves on these people

[paraphernaliawagon]

headcanons about the incredibly fucked up little Allegory for the British Empire But With Dragons and Evil Gods (As Created by an Extremely British Guy) that i’ve been rotating constantly in my head for over half my life:

-their music is all about the Drone (including of course, ones made by people they’ve enslaved and surgically made into musical instruments. that’s the only musical instrument we know for sure that they have, by the way. as far as i can remember.)

-even though they have almost no taboos about killing or sexuality (i suspect they are homophobic and transphobic so there are significant exceptions) they DO have an incredibly strict taboo about poop. to the extent of writing propaganda medical books to convince the oppressed human underclass that their species doesn’t poop (which is slightly plausible because they’re descended from dragons and are much more different from humans biologically than they appear (ie they get slightly different illnesses and are affected differently by certain drugs). but nobody believes it and it’s a huge joke among the oppressed human underclass (it’s canon that the areas of Imrryr outside the palace are basically 100% immigrants. i wonder a lot about what their lives were like)

creationist voice: “if melniboneans evolved from dragons how come there’s still dragons”

[sweetiebriar]

I really shouldn’t get involved in this debate because, first, it's utterly absurd and immature, and second, it will likely earn me a few enemies and drag me into conflicts, which I despise more than anything… Yet, I can’t stay silent. My anger is boiling over because creators and writers like myself are being bullied by so-called fans with narrow-minded perspectives, forcing us to bow down to politically correct foolishness just to be able to continue our work in peace.

¡Swearwords Alert!

What the fucking, shitty, bloody heck is wrong with these people?! This is a work of fiction—a story set in a fantasy, medieval Slavic world. The rules of the modern, real world do not apply here. Why on earth is representation being demanded in a context where it makes no sense?

¡Swearwords Alert End!

For those who’ve wisely avoided this whole debacle—and I congratulate you, keep doing so in the future if possible, let me fill you in: our dear RC team, along with the author of "The Thunderstorm Saga," Alexander D., were recently pressured (and in some cases harassed) into changing the main character sprites, which originally consisted of various elven races—forest, moon, and dark elves—into human representations (Asian, Caucasian, African, Latin, etc.).

AS: I didn’t get involved in the uproar about Volot’s skin tone in "And The Haze Will Take Us" being a player choice, because frankly, it was ridiculous for a portion of the community to react negatively, as if RC’s decision was some kind of racist move. Let me remind you, we’ve had this kind of choice before, like in "Vying For Versailles" with King Louis, and no one complained. Also, if you weren’t aware, book covers are often altered in their Russian versions. A main character who is Black or Brown in the American/European editions is frequently depicted as white in the Russian versions, except in rare cases where the character’s ethnicity is central to the story, like in "Garden of Eden" or the "Kalis". This change is due to the narrow-mindedness of the Russian community, and RC makes these changes to avoid backlash from its largest player base. Perhaps the decision to change Volot's skin was made with the Russian market in mind, and they decided to keep it consistent for all players. But frankly, I don’t care, and I don’t want to know.

Now, back to the main issue:

I’ve been a writer for most of my life, and I cannot stress this enough: a writer’s vision is theirs and theirs alone. While we might choose to revise certain aspects of our stories or find new ways to tell them, the opinions of readers and fans should never dictate those decisions. We are the creators of the content you enjoy. You read our work because you appreciate our vision. If we start crafting stories the way you want, it ceases to be our vision, and the magic is lost. Instead of venturing into the unknown, the story becomes a mundane reflection of everyday life. People read books to escape reality, not to mirror it.

Frankly, I find the elven races in this story quite representative, if you ask me—certainly more so than in LOTR (And remember the backlash about the Black dwarf queen? How ironic…).

- Forest Elves One have very fair skin, which can be linked to Caucasians. The Forest Elves Two can be more compared to Mediterranean people.

- Moon Elves One & Two, with their warm, brownish skin, can be connected to Hispanic or Latin people.

- Dark Elves, as you might expect, are associated with people of African descent, with group One being darker than group Two.

Sure, not every community is represented here—where are the Asians, the Eastern Europeans, the Arabs, Indians, and Indigenous peoples? There are more than just three skin tones, after all.

But this debate is utterly ridiculous. This is a work of fiction set in a fantasy realm. These characters are elves, not humans, and they don’t need to represent human diversity. The vast majority of players enjoyed the story as it was, and do you know why? Because they chose their main character based on who they found most appealing, not because the character resembled them. Contrary to what some believe, representation isn’t always necessary in fiction. Yes, there were fewer Black and brown-skinned characters in the past due to racism and segregation, but today, in a diverse and cosmopolitan world, young writers incorporate their modern perspectives into their work, and people generally don’t complain about representation anymore. So stop making a fuss over something that was never an issue to begin with. Let writers do their work. Criticising elves for not being "human enough" is not constructive; it’s just nonsense. And if you want to argue with me over this, don’t bother. I refuse to debate anyone over a fictional world, and especially over a game.

[chimerafeathers]

thinking about Frieren and Dungeon Meshi today and just remembered seeing a post/comment or two saying that people have no reason to compare the two stories since they have nothing in common except being non-isekai fantasy. different tones, different pacing, different themes, etc.

i don't know if whoever said that were dunmesh manga readers or not, but i kinda assume they were making judgments based purely on however much of the anime was released at the time, because i think about how similar these stories are a LOT, actually.

[spoilers for the dungeon meshi manga below, and a little bit of frieren manga]

i think that's a pretty fair assessment to make based JUST on the "prologue"/setup arc leading up to the red dragon. while some of the main themes are very in-your-face, others are still being woven into the characters and established much more subtly, and we don't get the full weight and payoff for that early work until later into the story.

Frieren establishes its identity within the first episodes and never drastically deviates from that first impression. on the other hand, dunmesh takes its time to build its foundation...but instead of using it as groundwork to build a house above, it then leads you into the depths of the dungeon below.

the stuff about conflicts between long-lived and short-lived races seem like just jokes/banter and a touch of political worldbuilding, in the beginning, but that tension is absolutely central to both Marcille and Kabru's arcs. both Frieren and dunmesh are about elves facing their (near) immortality in contrast with the brief mortality of their companions.

I think about the ways Frieren, with a thousand years of life behind her, carries the memories of those she's outlived along with her and all the ways she emulates them to preserve their lives and values. I think about the way Marcille, with a thousand years of life ahead of her, clings so tightly to the people she holds dear and fears the future she sees beyond their deaths.

I think about the way Serie talks about training Flamme on a whim, casually dismissive of short human lifespans. I think of the way Kabru resents the way elves treat short-lived species like children and fights so desperately for their agency and right to speak on the same level as the rest, fully informed of the dangers that threaten them all instead of being left in the dark.

beyond that, too--you can really feel that these series come from a place of love for the genres that inspired them. dunmeshi's speculative biology for the monsters and the ecosystem they're a part of, the exploration of how and why different races get different "stat" bonuses (dwarven constitution, half-foot perception, tall-man versatility, elven/gnomish magical affinity), the side comic about "Grease" as a starter spell--all obviously come from deep knowledge and affection for D&D and/or similar rpgs.

meanwhile, Himmel gives thoughtful weight to doing "side quests" for paltry rewards--they help because they're heroes, but they accept scraps and useless items for rewards because no one wants to feel pitied or indebted to anyone. he says they "went the wrong way" if they find the stairs to the next floor in a dungeon, because the "right" way is to explore every nook and cranny first before you progress. it would be very easy to mock how annoying fetch quests are, or make the dungeon bit a pure joke--but this is a story that relishes the process and the journey of it all, down to the smallest detail and silliest quest.

flashbacks to Falin being achingly kind and gentle, and also strange and awkward. flashbacks to Himmel being blindingly heroic and noble, and also vain and goofy.

these are both stories about the weight of death and loss and the things we'll do to see our loved ones one last time, when we are destined and doomed to outlive them. they're about the joy of the journey even when it's painful, thriving on silliness even when things are "serious," and loving the people in your life knowing you will lose them, and how you carry them with you when they're gone. dunmeshi is heavier on the comedy side of things, but both have their fair share of emotional gutpunches, and their themes and values mirror each other.

all this to say, these stories are holding hands.

[dailyadventureprompts]

What of vampire races? Like there's a primordial "source" that represent the abstract ideas of "being a vampire", and it splits into different forms?

There's a vampire infection that creates the dramatic, domineering, "superior race" type of vampires. There's a bloodline infection that creates the bestial, or chaotic vampires. There's a bloodline creating the hyper intelligent, 'prophetic" vampires that use science or mystics to gain knowledge. These "types" of vampire characters can be diversified as different bloodline infections, which creates the vampire's with different motivations to ....*be vampires*.

Why do some vampires want to continue progressing in their inecion till they reach a sort of evolution, while some just like to be constant beasts, while others are basically forced to feel like they're starving all the time which is why they hunt humanoids? Why are some vampires only able to sustain themselves from humanoid blood (even it only being humans sometimes), while others can mix blood and are shown to just like draining people of their blood? Why are some vampires more scientific, while others are using dark magic and behave more supernatural?

Maybe all the "visions" various vampire groups or lineages have of a vampiric "holy land" and Utopia, are memories of a "blood world". Where their specific vampire infection,is able to thrive the way it behaves. This "race" idea, isn't involving physical body morphology nor does it need to separate infected individuals of other races and "born vampires" (however that works in your story), from eachother. But its extending vampirism to a bigger conspiracy. Of an extraterrestrial infectious existence, that has their own "home worlds".

The cosmic history of those vampire bloodlines and "blood worlds" affecting eachother, or other races of beings can be to your advantage. It also provides vampires identity outside of an individual lineage of a specific species.

Friend, this is a d&d blog. If you want vampire the masquerade/requiem try the place down the block.

Jokes aside I find it funny that whenever you get an intersection of nerds and vampire groupies you end up with this idea of "superior bloodlines" that fundamentally separate vampires from what makes them narratively relevant.

I'll probably do a monsters reimagined about it later, but as undead vampires are only interesting when you consider how their vampirism reflects who they were in life, and how their nature as a bloodsucking monster relates to the themes of the story they're in.

I understand the desire to identify with monstrous outsiders, but when you distort the concept by piling in more and more powers and talking about how special and cool you they are, you dilute what makes vampires fun and just make them into goth-elves.

A vampire story that isn't in some way based in tragedy isn't really a vampire story at all, now is it?

[hush-writes-preg]

Of Tempests & Flames: Bringing Forth the Heir

Commission for: @themightyfluffyone Word count: 5,082 Summary: (A D&D-inspired story based on the commissioner's characters and universe) Storm is sick and tired of being hovered over by the infuriating sun elves just because he's carrying the heir to their kingdom. He's also done with the endless summer heat, and those pesky cramps that he just can't seem to shake…

(Part 3 of 4; Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

TW: Labor, birth

He really, really shouldn’t have gone out today.

The sun shone overhead in a cheery, blinding ball of heat that left sweat beading on Storm’s skin, with nary a cloud in the sky to block its intense rays. He usually didn’t care, but the summer sun left the temperature uncomfortably warm, which coupled with the dark, draping fabrics he always insisted on wearing, left him unbearably hot.

All the extra weight at his middle didn’t help matters, either.  

The moon elf let out an exasperated puff of air as he paused yet again to rub at the middle of his back, his massive belly hanging before him as a constant reminder of, well, everything.  Of the fact that he’d let the prince of the sun elves knock him up after months of trying in return for safe haven, which he needed because he was a wanted man, and he was on the run because he’d stolen a necklace to increase his power but also happened to piss a whole bunch of people off in the process.  Now he was stuck here in Sunvail, with his rented womb occupied—

A tiny foot struck him right under the ribs as if its occupant was scolding him for his spiraling thoughts.  

“Sorry, little one,” he muttered under his breath, one clawed hand curling under his pregnant belly and rubbing soothingly.  “I know it’s not all bad.  Your father is… not as infuriating as he used to be, and you’ve grown on me too.”

Someone just out of sight cleared their throat in that insistent and slightly pompous way that always left his teeth grinding in irritation.  His royal babysitters were rarely out of reach, especially now that he was so close to birthing the kingdom’s eagerly-awaited heir, but that didn’t mean he liked it.  Or them.

He didn’t like many people, honestly.

“Sir?” the voice asked with forced politeness.  “Is everything alright?  Would you prefer to return to your quarters and rest?”  

“No, I damned well would not,” Storm practically growled, drawing his spine ramrod straight in a facsimile of his usual arrogance and doing his best to ignore his aching body’s prompt protests.  “I fully intend to finish my walk, Boon.  I’ve had far too much ‘resting’ lately, and if I get too much more of it, then I might have to break something.  Or someone.”

“Very well,” came the other’s dry reply.  “Just keep in mind that His Majesty, Prince Flamecaller, will be indisposed until well into the evening, so you would do well not to overexert yourself and draw him away from important matters of state.”  Boon was one of many palatial servants who’d been assigned to his well-being as his pregnancy progressed, and like most of them, he seemed to have a stick lodged firmly up his ass.  Boon in particular thought Storm beneath Flamecaller’s notice, and had on more than one occasion bemoaned the fact that the prince hadn’t chosen to mate with one of his own kind instead of some waspish moon elf.  

Needless to say, they didn’t get along very well.

A faint muscle spasm along the underside of his belly compelled him stubbornly forward.  Storm was all too aware of the countless eyes that watched his every move while he was out in public, guards and attendants and curious passersby all helping themselves to a look at the heavily pregnant moon elf in their midst.  Moon elves and sun elves rarely mixed these days in a social fashion, so to see one in the capital city was odd enough.  Anyone who happened to see a pregnant moon elf so close to the palace almost certainly knew who Storm was and what he was doing here, which was why his occasional trips outside had grown few and far between in recent weeks.  

Anyone who had a beef with him or the royal family would know to paint a huge target right in the middle of his back.

So while he’d managed to convince his babysitters to let him outside today, they actually hadn’t left the confines of the palace, preferring to let him stroll around one of Solarian’s many gardens instead of risking his life (and the life of the royal heir) by actually venturing into the city.  

But by the gods, he was growing claustrophobic.  

Step by step, he made his way around the lawn, sticking to the shaded areas where he could and boldly striding through the unavoidable sunny spots when he had to, with his gravid middle leading the way.  To be sure, he had a bit of a rolling gait, but if anyone had even tried to suggest that he ‘waddled’, he might take their head off.  Sweating, aching, tired, and far too warm, his already prickly personality had grown outright scathing over the past few days.

Storm nearly made it the entire way around the inside of the garden wall when another cramp spread through his midsection, the tight pain sending him stumbling to a halt.  The midwives called it ‘false labor’, but the moon elf felt like it was just another way for nature to torture him through this entire experience.

“Sir?”

“Fuck off, Boon.”  

His attendant didn’t bother trying to hide a longsuffering sigh from somewhere behind him. If Storm hadn’t been exhausted from hauling around an extra thirty pounds (and all of the other trials that came with this pregnancy), he might have whirled around and torn into the infuriating man.  Instead, he shuffled his belly around and tossed a glare in Boon’s general direction that lacked its usual biting ire.  

He was fucking miserable, okay?

“You’re dismissed, Boon.  I’ll take things from here.”  Another voice rose at Storm’s side, just as familiar and posh as Boon’s yet bearing a no-nonsense tone that clearly communicated that it expected no defiance.  “I’m sure you must have much better things to do elsewhere, yes?”

Storm didn’t bother listening to Boon’s reply, sure that it was just as snide and passive-aggressive as the rest of him, but waited for his footsteps to fade before addressing the newcomer.  “I don’t recall asking for anyone’s help, Win.”  

“And I certainly wouldn’t deign to give help where it wasn’t requested, my lord.”  He could nearly hear the smile in the other’s voice as he spoke, his tone just as dulcet and soothing to the ear as his appearance was to the eye.  Dressed in muted robes of blue, grey, and silver with his long white hair bundled into a fashionable knot at the nape of his neck, Frostwind was a lithe, pretty male that would have turned many a head in the Court of the Sun if it weren’t for the tell-tale grey tinge of his skin that spoke of mixed parentage.  Storm didn’t know much about him besides that he worked as a palace attendant and somehow seemed immune to most of the moon elf’s hormonal mood swings, which was quite an impressive feat.  “But I do know that you’ve been out in the sun for almost an hour now, and your robes are stained with sweat.  Perhaps it’s time to take a break, if only for a little while?”

Storm wanted to snap at him, to stubbornly do the exact opposite of what Win suggested just to be contrary, but he was ridiculously thirsty and his backache had only gotten worse.  Besides, the baby picked that exact moment to punt him right in the bladder.  

“Fine,” he growled, wincing.  “But only because I’ve got to take a piss.”

By the time he made it back to his room, the cramps had gotten bad enough to steal his breath, but Storm refused to give anyone another reason to fuss over him.

They’d already done more fussing than he had the patience to deal with.  The King had insisted on arranging the most extravagantly prepared birthing chambers for the arrival of his son’s heir-to-be with all of the awareness of someone with no real concept of money, including hiring enough midwives for a whole platoon of expectant parents, which led to Storm threatening to sneak away in the middle of the night and never come back.  It was already bad enough that he’d probably have to spread his legs and push out a baby in front of a stranger or two, but he sure as hells wasn’t going to do it in front of an entire guild and half the royal family in the middle of a gold-gilded suite.  

He’d butted heads with the king over the issue for weeks until the overwhelming stress and a bit of frightening spotting had forced Solarian to surrender the fight.  Instead, they’d had only the essentials moved into Storm’s quarters, while the King swore that no more than a handful of necessary staff would be in the room to assist with the birth.  

After stripping off his warm, sweaty robes in exchange for nothing more than an oversized tunic, the moon elf promptly kicked every servant and attendant right out of the room, unable to deal with the presence of anyone else.  He’d had these kinds of cramps before, but not this bad, and the discomfort sapped away his already limited ability to cope with other people.  Collapsing to his side on the bed, Storm curled around his swollen belly and tried to wait them out.

Time seemed to creep by as morning turned into afternoon, but the pangs only seemed to strengthen rather than fade with rest.  The baby shifted and kicked from within the confines of his womb as if they were just as bothered by the tensing muscles, and the moon elf found himself rubbing his hands over his dark grey skin in a vain attempt to calm them.  But he soon found himself too unsettled to remain lying down, and after a great deal of effort and some rather ungainly wriggling, Storm managed to get himself out of bed and back on his feet.  

The soothing smells of sandalwood and citrus filled the room from a small pot warming in the window, a subtle reminder of the prince’s own scent, but even that failed to soothe his frazzled nerves.  Storm began to pace through the room, one hand pressed against the small of his back while he tried to distract himself by running through mental lists of spell components and memorized incantations.  The cramps had to stop soon, right?  They did every other time he’d gotten them.  It wasn’t like he could already be in labor, not when the midwives said he had another couple of weeks before the baby came.  If anyone in the palace even suspected that he might be in labor, they’d descend on him like a flock of vultures looking for any scraps of gossip they might devour, and he’d never get a moment’s peace.  

Gods above and below, he missed not being pregnant.  

The next cramp shuddered through his gravid womb and left his abdomen painfully tight, forcing him to grasp blindly for the bedpost and hang on while he tried to breathe through it.  “Fuck,” he groaned, his cloudy eyes fluttering shut.  Maybe he had overexerted himself this morning, and his body was retaliating.  Of course he’d feel a little pain and cramping from carrying around such a huge load for too long.  It was only natural that he’d–

Pop.  Storm gasped as he felt a strange release of pressure and a sudden cascade of fluid down the insides of his thighs.  Cheeks burning in embarrassment, the moon elf clutched his legs together in a vain attempt to stem the flow.  Yeah, pregnancy had been hard on his bladder, but he’d never outright wet himself before.  

Oh gods, what if Flamecaller walked in and saw him like this?   

Mortified, Storm grabbed for his discarded tunic and tried to mop up the mess.  It wasn’t until he realized that he didn’t smell the sharp scent of urine that the pieces finally clicked.

Cramps.  Back pain.  Water.

He was in labor.  

Storm wasn’t sure what was worse: the contractions or the pressure.

Once he realized he was in labor, he couldn’t sit still.  It wasn’t like his body would let him, anyway, considering how the contractions continued to speed up and hit harder as time crept along.  He found himself using every piece of furniture in the room as a support to breathe through the rhythmic spasms, clenching his teeth and biting down the cries that threatened to bubble up from the back of his throat.  A new layer of sweat left his tunic clinging to his heaving body, the thin fabric sticking to his milk-swollen breasts and the gargantuan dome of his abdomen.  But still the stubborn moon elf refused to call out.  He’d grown so used to hiding any hint of weakness or vulnerability that even now, he struggled against the thought of exposing himself.  

Bent over the edge of the bed with the latest contraction, Storm arched his hips and tried to rock through the pain, his belly hanging pendulously beneath him.  He could feel the weight of the baby sliding into his pelvis and filling him with an intense sensation of fullness as it worked its way lower, and the knowledge that he’d soon have to give birth began to unravel his carefully-cultivated calm.  His hands and face buried in the bed’s opulent sheets, the moon elf muffled an involuntary scream against the mattress as he tried not to give in to the growing desire to push.  He wasn’t ready to deal with that yet, maybe not ever, and–

“My lord?  Would you care for some refreshments?”

Oh my fucking gods, no, I don’t want you or anyone else near me right now.  Swallowing heavily, Storm struggled for enough composure to answer, but unfortunately, he waited a bit too long.  

“...My lord?  Is everything alright?”  

Another contraction ripped its way through his thin frame, centered on the massive bulge of his belly.  Silk and fine linen tore like paper beneath his clawing fingers while another spurt of warm fluid trickled down to his knees.  “Everything is fine,” he finally managed to growl out, but his forced answer came at a price when the last word degenerated Into a strangled whimper that only a forge-deafened dwarf would miss.  

A muffled curse rose on the other side of the heavy carved door, followed by the sound of keys.  “Hold on, Storm.  I’m coming in.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Storm half-sobbed, but it was already too late.  

Frostwind pushed his way into the room without an ounce of his usual poise, his hurried steps faltering as soon as he caught sight of the moon elf’s barely-covered bottom and the puddle at his feet.  “Goddess preserve us,” he breathed, his gaze darting around the room before returning to the panting elf beside the bed.  “How long have you been in labor?”

“Don’t know,” Storm muttered into the sheets.  

“How do you not– oh, never mind.”  His voice held the slightest touch of exasperated fondness before he turned to poke his head back through the door and shout something

Storm wasn’t exactly of a mind to listen to what he said, though.  He knew that he’d soon be inundated with nosy sun elves intent on watching him make a further mess of himself, and the utter mortification of the approaching situation was starting to settle in.  In half a daze, he tried pulling one of the torn sheets from the bed to wrap around his waist in a half-assed skirt, but someone grabbed his hands.  

“None of that, now,” Win gently rebuked him, pulling the fabric away and wrapping a careful arm around his waist instead.  “Come along; let’s get you settled in your chair, alright?”

“Leave me alone,” the laboring moon elf grumbled, trying and failing to pull away from the delicate-looking elf’s suddenly firm grasp.  “I am not sitting on that stupid-looking–” Another cramp sent him doubling over, and if it wasn’t for Frostwind’s support, he might have toppled over.  He did cry out this time, a pathetic sort of wail that he knew he’d deny later, but how else was he supposed to react to being split open by something the size of a melon?

Frostwind hushed him and drew him along like a petulant child towards the chair Storm had ignored for weeks.  The low wooden monstrosity with a bench seat and handles looked like it’d been made for torture rather than comfort, but apparently it was a traditional piece of birthing equipment in these parts.  Win patiently guided the moon elf into place despite the way the male swore at him, brushing sweat-damp hair from his face and even going so far as to drape Storm’s sheet over his lap to give him a little privacy.  “There we go,” he said soothingly, his lips curled in a faint smile even when he had to duck back to avoid Storm’s sharp claws.  “Try to catch your breath for a moment.  The other midwife will be here soon, and I’m sure His Highness the prince will be right on her heels.”

The ‘other midwife’?  Storm glared in Frostwind’s direction, his eyes narrowing as he finally put the pieces together.  “Are you telling me that you’re a midwife?”

“Guilty as charged,” the other male chuckled, drawing up his loose sleeves and tying them in place to leave his arms bare.  “Do you honestly think you’d have agreed to my near-constant presence over the past few months if you knew that?  His Highness didn’t think so.”

No, he definitely wouldn’t have agreed, because he hated the idea of being treated like some delicate flower on the verge of breaking.  But Storm refused to admit that.  “I don’t like being lied to,” he snarled, ducking away as Frostwind tried to wipe the sweat from his brow.  

“And I never lied to you,” the midwife cooly answered.  “You just never asked.  Perhaps if you tried to get to know people instead of skulking around all the time, you wouldn’t find yourself surprised by such basic facts.” 

Before Storm could shoot out a sharp retort, a chaotic whirlwind of reds, golds, and purples burst through the door.  The usually composed and regal form of Flamecaller, prince of the sun elves, was in slight disarray, almost as if he’d half run the length of the palace to get there.  His breathing was a little fast and his eyes a bit too wide as they landed on Storm’s disheveled shape, but otherwise he managed to hold a noble air around himself like a slightly-tattered cloak.  “Are you alright, Storm?”

“Does it look like I’m alright?!” the moon elf snarled, gesturing wildly at his sweaty, bloated body. “I’m– I’m– oh fuck–”

“The contractions are coming pretty quickly now,” Frostwind said with his usual evenness as he gestured to indicate where the other midwife could set a basin of warm water.  “Your mate managed to hide them from me for hours before I realized what was happening.”

“Not… his mate,” Storm groaned, clutching at his quaking belly.  

“Of course not,” Win replied in an infuriating and entirely too-agreeable way.  “Now I need to check your dilation, which means I need to touch you.  Can I do that without you taking a swipe at me?”

Wood scraped across stone as Flamecaller pulled a stool to his lover’s side, dropping into the seat and grabbing for Storm’s hands.  “I’ll keep him occupied,” he promised, drawing one to his lips to give the back a quick kiss.  “You know, I was in the middle of a meeting with several of the western lords when the runner came.  You should have seen their faces when I got up and walked out in the middle of one of their tirades.”  

Storm leaned back against the chair, sweat glistening on his brow as he tried to ignore the midwife’s probing fingers, infinitely glad that the other kept his claws filed short.  “Are you expecting an apology from me?”

“Of course not.  They’re as interesting as boiled porridge and twice as useful in matters of state,” the prince said with a smile.  “I’m thankful for the reprieve.  Let Father deal with them.”  His words might have been lighthearted, but there was nothing trivial about the intense way his eyes met Storm’s.  Something burned within them, brighter than flame magic and twice as hot, an unspoken affection to which they’d both been reluctant to put a name.  Flamecaller leaned close, his warm lips brushing briefly against the corner of his lover’s mouth.  “I’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”  

They might have been having a moment, but the baby wasn’t about to stop for anything.  A new contraction rippled over Storm’s swollen womb before he could respond, leaving him scrunching his face in pain as he let out a distressed howl through clenched teeth.  

 “That’s right, ride it out,” the midwife said from his incredibly intimate position between Storm’s outstretched legs.  “You’re almost completely open, Storm.  It won’t be long now.”  

“Gods, it’s already been hours,” the moon elf griped.  He turned to glare at Flamecaller, his cloudy eyes narrowing.  “Your child is already a menace, you scheming bastard.”

“Well, at least we know where they got that from,” Flamecaller replied with a smirk.  “It’s certainly not from my side of the family tree.”

The two males stared each other down, ignoring the sound of clinking glass and pouring liquid until a chilled glass was pressed against the prince’s palm.  “Here,” Frostwind murmured, gesturing at the glass with the point of his chin.  “Bloodfruit juice.  He needs some fluids, and the sweetness will give him some much-needed energy.”  

Rime clung thickly to the glass from the midwife’s magic, leaving its crimson contents startlingly cold against Storm’s tongue as he took a careful sip from the offered drink.  Something shifted heavily around the bottom of the glass, but Win predicted the prince’s question before it even left his lips.  

“Moonstone,” he said, sparing Storm a glance.  “For the Goddess’s blessing.  Mother always swore by it.”

It was such a small thing, but that faint nod to their shared heritage in this foreign land eased a little of the tension from the moon elf’s shoulders.  “Thank you,” he mumbled quietly.  

Perhaps it was the moonstone’s boon, or perhaps it was Flamecaller’s presence, or perhaps his body had just gotten fed up with the whole process of childbirth, but everything seemed to escalate from that moment.  Storm barely had a chance to catch his breath before the next contraction slammed into him, and his claws dug weeping punctures in the prince’s fair skin when the pain grew too much.  Soon Frostwind began urging him to push, and he felt the baby’s tiny body shift farther and farther down.  

“I can feel the head,” the midwife called up to them after the next contraction, his fingers probing gently into Storm’s straining opening.  “You’re making excellent progress, my lord.”  

“Just get it out of me,” Storm moaned, exhaustion starting to creep over his features.  “Please.”

“That’s all on you, my lord,” Frostwind replied, wiping his hands on the towel the assisting midwife handed him.  “Keep pushing, and we’ll meet them soon enough.”

“I’m already fucking pushing!” the laboring elf practically wailed, the dome of his belly almost impossibly tight from the near-constant waves of contractions.  

“Shhh,” Flamecaller whispered, pulling his lover against his chest and cradling him close.  “You’re doing great.  It won’t be long until our baby’s here, my beloved tempest.”  

“I hate you,” Storm grumbled, unwanted tears soaking into the prince’s fine shirt.  “You godsdamned bastard.  You did this to me.  Hells, I’m never gonna let you touch me again.”

“I hate you too,” Flamecaller replied, but the spoken words didn’t at all line up with the obvious tenderness coloring his voice as he ran a pale hand soothingly over his lover’s hair.  “But let us save those honeyed words for after the little one comes, alright?”

Swallowing and giving the prince a half nod in response, Storm grasped the chair’s handles and tried to brace himself for the next contraction.

But gods, were they brutal.  It felt like a giant fist closed over his womb every time and tried to squeeze all of his insides right out through his cunt.  

Everything started to blur together into an endless cycle of pain, cramping, and pushing.  The room rang with Storm’s wails, with Frostwind and Flamecaller’s calmer voices adding to the din with their encouragement and soothing tones.  But no matter how hard he bore down, the moon elf couldn’t seem to get over that last threshold.  

He’d nearly brought the baby to a full crown when panic finally hit him.  Wild-eyed and near frantic, the moon elf threw an arm over his face and slumped back in his chair as he desperately gulped down air.  

“Don’t stop now!” the midwife called, kneeling expectantly between Storm’s cloth-shrouded knees as if ready to catch the child at any moment.  “They’ve stretched you almost as wide as you’ll have to go.  Push a little harder, and they should slide right out.”

“I can’t,” the exhausted elf whimpered.   

“You can.”

“No, I can’t!”  Electricity fizzled around the edges of Storm’s wide-eyed face, his chest heaving for every breath.  “I can’t– I can’t do this anymore.  Just get the godsdamned baby out of me.”

“If you’ve got the energy to discharge magic like an unschooled child, then you have enough energy to finish giving birth,” Frostwind scolded, his lips turning down in the first frown that either of them could ever remember seeing on his comely face.  

“No!”

Warm fingers tucked under the stubborn elf’s chin and turned his face towards Flamecaller.  The cocky smile on the prince’s face wasn’t as bright as it usually was, but it still radiated warmth as he met Storm’s eyes.  “Focus on me,” he murmured.  “I have faith in you.  I know how powerful and incredibly stubborn you are, so I know you can do this.  You’re already so, so close.”  His thumb brushed across the bottom edge of the moon elf’s lip, a gentle caress that spoke of all the things they hadn’t yet said.  “In fact, if I reached down right now, I could– I could touch our little one.  The one we made, together.  The one you’ve carried in your belly for all these months.”  

Storm let out a shuddering sigh and gave the faintest of nods.  

“But you know what I’d like most, my impetuous Storm?”  His fingers slid reverently over the moon elf’s cheek, his magic drawing some of the heat from his lover’s flushed skin.  “I want to hold them in my arms and see whether their features take after yours or mine.  I want to place them against your chest and watch them suckle from their father for the first time.  I want to be able to look upon the purest, most precious gift that anyone’s ever been able to give me and finally understand what it means to have everything.”  Flamecaller was the son of a powerful king, and he’d long since learned to mask his thoughts and feelings behind a carefully-cultivated veneer, but at that moment, something akin to vulnerability touched his eyes.  “Please, Storm.  Let’s meet our baby, hmm?”

The thin body pressed against him relaxed ever so slightly, its owner managing a faint chuckle.  “And here I’ve always thought you were a heartless bastard,” the moon elf whispered, leaning into the prince’s touch.  “Don’t tell me you’re going soft.”

“Never where you’re concerned,” Flamecaller teased, though further banter immediately ceased as soon as a tell-tale flash of pain skittered across Storm’s face.  

“Save the bedroom talk for later, my lords,” said the midwife, giving Storm’s knee a purposeful pat.  “It’s nearly time for you to push again.”

It didn’t happen during that contraction or even the contraction after that.  But on the third grueling clench of his overtaxed womb, the moon elf gripped the handles of his birthing chair and filled the room with a fierce shout that threatened to shake the very rafters.  The sound abruptly ended, leaving behind a silence that seemed eager to be broken.

And just like that, it was.

The mewling squall of a newborn filled the gap left by its father’s voice, reedy yet somehow still quite angry, as if its owner couldn’t believe the impertinence of being forced out into this cold, unfamiliar place.  “It’s a boy!” Frostwind called out, cradling the tiny heir to the sun elf kingdom in his arms.  The hall was immediately filled with shouts of unmistakable joy and congratulations, accompanied by footfalls as runners took off to deliver the news throughout the palace.   

“Let me see him,” Storm mumbled, slumped tiredly against the chair.  Everything hurt, and everything leaked, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter anymore.  All that mattered was the tiny gray-skinned child in Frostwind’s arms, a shock of pale hair plastered to his oblong head while his wrinkled little body flailed.  

The midwife nodded, expertly winding a soft cloth around the babe’s body before handing him over to Flamecaller.  The slick cord still trailed from his belly, and his skin was streaked with gods-knew-what, but somehow he was still perfect.  

“A son,” the prince whispered in barely-concealed wonder.  “You’ve given me a son.”

“I’ve given us a son,” Storm chided, though there was only a hint of the usual edge to his voice.  “If you think I’m going to go through all that and then just walk away from him, you’ve got another damned thing coming.”

“Fine, you’ve given us a son.”  Placing the baby gently against the moon elf’s chest, Flamecaller let his hand linger, stroking his fingers along the newborn’s back.  “But I’d hate for him to be an only child.  Does this mean–?”

Someone let out a polite cough, and they looked down to find Win staring at them with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised.  “I expect you to wait at least four to six weeks, gentlemen.”

“For what?”

Flamecaller burst out laughing, which startled the baby into another bout of displeased sounds just as horrified realization spread across Storm’s face.  The moon elf’s mortified voice added to the cacophony as he leveled a string of scathing curses at the now-grinning midwife and the prince alike, all while the news of this joyous occasion spread across the capital city like wildfire.

And somewhere, the Goddess smiled.

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[aberfaeth]

Okay. I have to know. What is word on the wind what is a young wizard?

OH ANON YOUVE DONE IT NOW <333 (made my DAY ACTUALLY. I LOVE YOU AND IF YOU READ ALL OF THIS I LOVEYOU EVEN MORE)

so word on the wind is. a novelization/dramatization of the plot of 2008 mmorpg Wizard101, a game in which you play a normal child/teen isekai-ed into a Spiral of magical worlds to learn how to do spells at the Ravenwood School of Magical Arts. along the way you have adventures such as: save the world! become increasingly estranged and isolated from your peers and teachers! Actually End A Man's Life! experience the horrors of war!

if you know me at all you know my number one passion is Making Things Way Deeper And More Narratively Coherent/Satisfying Than They Need To Be (power rangers 2017 my beloved) so while wizard101 is a fun silly game for folks of all ages i was like HEY. what if we took the Powerful Old Wizard Sends Child To Do Horrific Bidding thing really seriously (obviously i am nowhere near the first person to do this i mean i dont really read a lot of w101 fic but it does exist). anyways the Thing that sets wotw apartTM is that i picked three fellow student NPCs that exist only in the first world* and decided that they get to be the protag's friends and party for the rest of the plot! (based off the real mechanic where you can join fights with up to 3 other people bc its an mMorpg. i made sure their party build was good. i made SURE.)

so word on the wind is, in short: Madeline "Mae" Simmons/Starcatcher (the Headmaster gave her a Wizard Name) and her three friends (Duncan Grimwater, Ceren Nightchant, Regina Flametalon) go on adventures, save the worlds, bond over gained trauma, do real life murder, and fall in love (gay people<3).

fun little encapsulation of the Implications Being Taken Seriously: initially, the protag's name is coded into the dialogue, but after a little bit, i guess kingsisle got lazy? or something, because everyone gradually starts calling them Young Wizard. and thus that is how the protag is referred to in fandom. cool and useful but also super depersonalizing!

gay people snippet under the cut bc this post is so long already i am so sorry:

A girl stormed past us, red cape whipping behind her.

I watched as she paced across the length of the grass before dropping down on the ground, right behind a park bench, burying her head in her hands. Ceren’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. I tilted my head to the side, like, do you know her? But he just sort of stared at me, confused.

“Well, come on,” I said, clamoring to my feet. “Maybe we can help.”

We made our way across the court. When we got close enough, I could see the girl’s shoulders were shuddering, as if she was having trouble breathing. As we approached, she startled, jerking her head up. Her face was round, with wide, shiny eyes, and dark skin streaked with tears. Cherry red coils of hair fell down to her shoulders. 

She took in a quick breath, wiping her face with the sleeves of her pumpkin orange robe. “Hi,” she said, voice wobbling. “Um—can I help you?”

I blinked. “I guess I was gonna ask you the same thing.” I knelt down on the seat of the bench, folding my arms across the backrest. “We’ll leave if you want to be alone, but… are you okay?”

The girl’s lip quivered. She let out a full-body sigh, shifting her crossed legs. “No,” she said, finally, with a small shake of the head. “I’m trying to finish this engineering assignment for Professor Baelstrom, but the golems in that tower stole my materials.” As she talked, her voice picked up, in speed, volume, and panic. “I really need those back, if he finds out I’ve lost them then I’ll fail the project, and Professor Falmea won’t let me do any more interschool studies, and I’ll flunk out of the Academy and have to live beneath the theater on Firecat Alley doing tech for those crazy elves to pay rent—”

“Woah, slow down,” I said, climbing off the bench to crouch next to her, hands held stiffly up like I was FBI Agent Dr. Spencer Reid trying to soothe a traumatized shotgun wielder. I swallowed, and tried to think of anything useful to say. What I came up with was: “Hey, at least you’ve got a backup plan.”

She laughed, but it sounded a little crazed. “Yeah. I have backup plans for everything. Except, apparently, golems stealing my steam capacitor.”

“When did they grab it from you?” Ceren asked, from behind me. His head was tilted slightly in puzzlement. “I’ve never seen them outside of the tower.”

The girl pursed her lips. “I was stupid,” she said, morose. “I thought I could grab some Enchanted Wood off of the smaller wooden golems, instead of paying Elmer for it, but they were a lot stronger than I’d imagined. They knocked me out, took my equipment.” Her breathing was becoming rapid, again, hands fiddling anxiously with the ends of her sleeves. “I don’t even like musicals! When I was ten Professor Greyrose made me play the wicked witch in a small schoolwide production and I forgot all of my lines, it was so embarrassing—”

“We’ll help you get your stuff back,” I blurted.

She looked up at me with wide, wet eyes. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Ceren chimed in, reaching a hand out. “Those golems won’t stand a chance against the three of us.”

The girl examined Ceren’s outstretched hand for a moment before grasping it, letting herself be pulled up. I scrambled to my feet, brushing the grass off of my knees. “I’m Regina,” she introduced.

“Mae,” I responded, bouncing lightly on my toes. “And this is Ceren.” Ceren gave a little half-wave. “Should we head right in, or do you need a minute?”

Regina took a deep breath in, setting her shoulders. Her expression was dead serious. “I’m ready.”

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 6

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

EXTRA WARNINGS - this chapter is pretty much unrelenting whump and the violence and consent issues (past) tags strongly apply. I have put more detailed (spoiler heavy) warnings at the bottom so if you’re particularly sensitive to that stuff and want to scroll down to check before you read you can do so.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

In a tavern just outside of Leovan the crowd roars another! And Roman laughs and gamely starts to play another jig. He’s been playing for hours and he drinks in the attention happily, even as the cheers of the crowd become a ringing in his ears. The night is long and his throat is raw and his stomach empty and it’s harder and harder to keep his eyes focused, but his hands are steady on the strings. He sways in place, sweat dripping into his eyes, but it doesn’t matter- the crowd adore him. They sing and dance and laugh along, and after each set they call another, another, another until the room is spinning and his throat is bleeding and the audience’s laughter had turned cruel and high and lilting and-

Roman woke with a gasp and immediately regretted it.

The underground room was still pitch black, the humidity still cloying. At some point during his fitful sleep he had slumped to the floor, Lucius’ ill-attempt at binding having come loose enough to allow him to slide his arms down the length of the pipe. He was awkwardly sprawled at the base with his wrists still pinned above his head and his legs twisted underneath him. He tugged experimentally at his binding and got a sharp spike of pain down his shoulders and spine for his trouble. Whilst he had wasted time sleeping, the silk had become sodden from the moisture of the room and shrunk tight against his wrists, making even Lucius’ knotwork impossible to pull apart.

Not that it would have made much difference if he could get it loose.

Stay here until I come back with your transport.

Grunting with pain, he managed to untangle his legs out from under him and sit up. He pushed himself up on his knees as best he could, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his wrists, but gave it up quickly as the pain lacing down his shoulders intensified.

This was bad.

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think, but the heat was making it almost impossible. The black of the room kept swirling back in to crowded tavern, the rush of water into the jeers of a crowd…he could feel the raw burn on his throat and his mind scrambled desperately for another song-

Except it hadn’t happened like that. He shook his head furiously, his hair flicking sweat into the room, trying to banish the tavern from his mind.  He had already started traveling with the others by the time he sang in Leovan and if he’d tried to perform so late into the night Virgil would have come stomping down the stairs to tell him he was being ridiculous and to go and get some sleep.

Or Patton would have sat up listening, playing bodyguard, until he couldn’t keep his own eyes open and sweetly suggested that the crowd might want to be getting home to their own families.

Or Logan would appear, pocket watch in hand, demanding he finish within a set time frame in order to allow for optimal sleeping hours.

Roman could almost hear the lecture, relief at a chance to escape the crowd mingling with exasperation at the scholars ridged scheduling.

In the dark Roman glanced over to where he thought the door should be.

The only sound was the gentle hiss of water.

He tried pulling at the rope again.

***

“Hey! It’s you!”

The man blocking Roman’s path back to the ballroom was clearly drunk. He stumbled towards Roman, half leaning on the hallway wall for support, a big dopy smile on his face.  “I saw you- I saw you back there – wow!”

“Thank you friend.” Roman smiled brightly and took a step backwards, but not quickly enough to prevent the guy from grasping onto his sash.

“You’re so pretty.” The guy breathed, his eyes unfocused but his grip firm, “I saw you lookin’ at me when you were singin’.”

Roman squirmed. He was almost certainly better trained than his admirer, and he had had a lot less ale, but he was also shorter and skinnier. With the man pressed so close in the narrow hallway it was almost impossible to find the leverage he needed to push him off.

And. This was a nice place. And by the quality of the man’s clothing he was an honoured guest not a servant. Roman had been the one to convince his new companions to accompany him to the local lord’s house for the ball, he had wanted to give them to a chance to relax whilst he performed. He didn’t want to get himself, and them, kicked out by causing a scene- not when he was half hoping they would allow him to continue to travel with them even though the job he’d been hired for was done.

“I look at everyone-” he said, smile fixed and polite ”– engaging the audience is actually very important for-“

“Shush.” The man whispered.

Roman shushed. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

His assailant brought one hand up to paw at his face in a clumsy attempt at seduction, thick rings knocking against Romans jaw. His other hand released the bard’s sash to grip his wrist instead.

“Kiss me,” the man breathed, the stink of ale on his breath making Roman gag.

Face burning with mounting frustration and embarrassment, Roman attempted to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but the man twisted his head at the last moment to meet his lips with his own.  Pressing Roman back against the wall with a slobbering assault as he attempted to pry Roman’s lips open with his tongue.

Panic flickered in Roman’s belly and then just as quickly dulled. It was generally easier to let these things run their course.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on his mouth – and wrist and chest - was gone.

Roman blinked open eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut to see Patton with an expression so furious Roman had to fight the instinct to cower.

“What.” Patton snarled “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I di-didn’t mean to-“ Roman started.

“Well?!” Patton roared and Roman realised he wasn’t speaking to him – but rather the rich man who appeared to be rapidly sobering up in Patton’s grip.  The warrior held him by the scuff of his neck, his toes just scraping the floor. When Patton shook him, the plethora of chains around his neck clinked together musically.

“Roman,” Patton asked, his voice still shaking with an anger that made Roman draw his shoulders up instinctively “do you…know this man?”

“Well…no.” Roman glanced at the chains again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his heart rate started to return to normal “I think he might be the mayor though Pat, put him down!”

“I don’t care if he’s the King of the elves! Did you want to kiss him?”

“Well no, but – but its fine! These things happen!”

“You call yourself a Prince and this is how you carry on?”

Wait. What?

Roman blinked, feeling strangely hot in the cool hallway.

Patton wasn’t supposed to say that. Patton was supposed to ask what he meant. And Roman would backtrack and feed him some lines about people often feeling entitled to performers time off stage – which was not untrue – and Patton would look at him wide eyed and tell him that would never happen again –

“You’ve been told over and over, to keep yourself to yourself.”

- that Patton would stand guard at every performance from now on if that’s what it took.-

“If you insist on putting yourself into these situations, don’t come crying to me when the inevitable happens.”

-And Roman would be so elated at the implication that they were to keep travelling together that he would almost forget to feel embarrassed at the situation.-

Patton’s lips narrowed into a thin disapproving line, “Don’t be naive. You are far better off alone, Romulus.”

“Dad?” Roman whispered.

“He doesn’t look much like the Prince.”

“Oh, like you’ve seen him.”

“Well he’s meant to be handsome right? This guy’s not winning any contests.”

Roman opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Three men stood around him, illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp. For one wild moment elation flooded through him - his friends had found him after all!

And then their conversation registered and he scowled. Disappointment robbing him of a witty comeback to their insults.

Still. Let them travel almost non-stop for three weeks, spend a night standing out in the middle of a field whilst an old woman sang at herbs, march for five days through a forest - including a detour through he thickets brambles known to man- and then follow that up with an entire day wandering around the city, have two panic attacks and be left to sleep tied up in caller. And then see if they looked their best.  

With the gag still in his mouth, Roman’s attempt to covey this sentiment were mercifully muffled.

“I don’t know.” The biggest of the three stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Roman’s hair and yanking his head back painfully, abruptly cutting off his complaints. “I can kinda see it.”

“Be careful Niki,” the one who had first spoken whispered, he was holding the lantern and keeping well back from Roman. “His nibs thinks he’s got devils with him.”

“In here?” Niki cast a glance around at the iron cage of pipework that covered the room. “If he does they’re not coming out.”

“Still.” Lantern-boy whined.

“Well let’s test it.” Niki grinned down and Roman spitefully and released his grip on his hair. In one quick movement he had produced an iron dagger, not unlike Roman’s own, and pressed the flat of it to Roman’s cheek.

Roman stared at him.

“There you see? If was possessed he’d be screaming.” Niki said smugly and pulled his knife back, twisting it slightly as he did so, leaving a shallow cut along Roman’s cheek, making him wince.

“Careful,” lantern-boy said meaningfully “he’s still the Prince’s brother.”

“Oops.” Niki smiled cheerfully down at Roman. “My bad.”

“He needs to drink.” The third man stood far enough back from the lantern that Roman couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way the other two responded to his soft voice, their posture automatically stiffening.

“Here,” lantern-boy stepped forward after a moment, holding out a water skin to Niki  who rolled his eyes but reached down to rip the gag from Roman’s mouth.

Roman coughed, swallowing air greedily. His throat was painfully dry, all moisture sucked out by the silk, but he still hesitated when Niki held the skin up to his mouth.

“Listen to me.” He croaked “you-“

“Just drink it.” Niki snapped and Roman surged forward despite himself, swallowing a few precious mouthfuls before the skin was yanked away again.  

“You’re from Notaleveale.”  he whispered. “Right?”

“Obviously.” Lantern-boy muttered, taking the water skin back from his companion.

“Well then,” he drew himself up as much as he could, ignoring the pain the movement caused “ – as true men of The North I must implore you to assist me. The Marquis has been embroiled in some- some conspiracy of untruths, is perhaps plotting against the very crown itself and-“

“The Marquis de Orenlla couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag.” Niki snorted contemptuously.

Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Isn’t he your Lord?” he asked eventually feeling bizarrely offended on the Marquis’ behalf. Niki and lantern-boy were both wearing chest plates embossed with the three peaked mountain range that signified allegiance to Orenlla, the royal kraken of Notaleveale floating above. They were clearly guardsmen brought with Lucius on his journey south.

The third man, who hadn’t spoken since he mentioned Roman needing to drink, wore no identifying uniform.

“It’s not an insult.” Niki shrugged, “personally I prefer an employer too daft to organise a coupe.”  

Lantern-boy nodded in agreement, “It’s a, whatcha call it - a positive working environment, innt?”

“…alright.” Roman decided to change tactics. “I’ll double what he’s paying you.” This time both men laughed.

“With what?”

“Well, I. I’m still a Prince I’ll have you know -  I have many rich and influential friends who would gladly-“

“Oh really. Where are they then?”

There was an unpleasant pause whilst Roman desperately tried to get his brain to think. He was supposed to be more creative than this!

“You’re no Prince of ours anyhow.” Lantern-boy stepped a bit closer to glare into Roman’s eyes. “Traitor.”

Roman flinched back at the pure look of venom on the young man’s face.

Little fae touched traitor.

“Listen to me. Whatever you’ve heard – it’s not true. My father-“

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Niki surged froward, pulling Roman up by the neck of his tunic. Their faces were close enough that Roman could feel the spittle from the man’s mouth land on his cheek as he shouted: “After your despicable actions you would dare to-“

“Nicolas. Don’t upset yourself.”

The third man was barely visible to Roman over Niki- Nicholas’- shoulder, but as soon as he spoke the large man stilled, lowering Roman slowly back to the ground.

“Marcus. Some more light if you will.”

Lantern-boy -presumably Marcus– quickly produced a box of long matchsticks, almost tripping over himself in his haste to light more lanterns around the room. By the time he was done the room was brightly lit, the glow from each lamp bouncing off the metal pipes until it filled every corner.

The third man did not look especially Notalevealean, with skin almost as white as Virgil’s and pale white blond hair.  He was dressed plainly, with pale grey robes and soft shoes, and carried only a thin walking stick. If he hadn’t spoken, he could have quite easily faded into the background - camouflaged against the dull back drop of pipes.

“Nicholas. Marcus. Go and guard the passages.”

“But we already have a dozen men out there-“

“And I’m sure they’re in need of leadership. Go now.”

The two men glanced at each other. Roman thought for a moment that they would stand their ground, but then Marcus snatched up his original lantern and headed for the door, Niki following after one last reluctant glance back.

“W-wait.” Roman called. “Is my Father alive?”

They disappeared into the gloom of the next room.

Left alone with only the quiet grey man, Roman found himself wishing they’d stayed.

The grey man smiled at him as he shuffled towards the kneeling prince. His smile was an awful thing that did not touch his eyes.

“The young Marquis de Orenlla is a rather silly boy.” He told Roman in his soft papery voice. “Much like yourself.”

Despite himself Roman let out an offended squeak, but the grey man continued unhindered. “He has very little idea how to survive alone, can barely function without his servants.”

Roman caught himself staring at the floor and snapped his gaze back to the grey man’s face. He didn’t want to miss any information he might let slip but looking at him was-

It was difficult.

When he tried to look at the details of his face they seemed to slip away. Was he young or old? What colour were his eyes?

The whole time he had been talking, had his mouth actually moved?

“What are you?” Roman whispered.

The grey man smiled again, Roman shuddered.

“But also like you, he is not wholly stupid. He has started asking some inconvenient questions.”

Within the blink of an eye, the grey man was next to him a knife in his hand. Before Roman had a chance to do more than flinch, he had cut the ties biding his hands, and was back across the room.

Dazed, Roman rubbed his wrists, trying not to wretch.

Up close, the grey man smelt of death.

“Now. Sit there, and listen to me until I finish.”

Romulus whimpered.

“Your father is dead.” The grey man told him bluntly. “You killed him.”

“No.” Romulus- Roman shook his head. Used his newly freed hands to cover his ears. “He was sick.”

“You poisoned him over many weeks.” the grey man whispered. “Disguised it as a common sickness. You tried the same on your brother but he was too strong to succumb.”

Roman lowered his hands. They were pointless anyway- the grey man’s voice seemed to be inside his head.

“That’s not how his strength works!”

“And so instead, you allied yourself with a traitor to the fae court and placed a curse of madness on the crown prince, rendering him unable to rule. You hoped to take over in his place, but luckily your father’s advisors found you out. You were forced to flea with your fae companion.”

Roman stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s insane!”

“That’s the truth.” The grey man insisted. “When The Marquis asks you for the truth, that’s what you’ll say.”

“No.” Roman shook his head. “No, no, no.”

The grey man reached forward, resting his hand gently against Roman’s cheek. Romulus stared up into his eyes.

“Julius?” he whispered.

“In a way.” The grey man’s face seemed to twist. For a single moment, it was Julius’ face that looked disdainful down at him, rendering Romulus mute with terror. And then with another twist to reality it was gone, back to the grey man’s blank visage.

“I’ve had eyes all over looking for you Romulus. I was so sure you must have died in the mountains and yet –“ His fingers tightened on Roman’s face, nails digging cruelly into his skin. “Here you are. Like a little cockroach.”

With a shove he released Roman’s face and walked swiftly to the centre of the room, where the largest pipes rose out of the floor. “Stay on your knees and come here.” he ordered. Face burning, Roman shuffled after him, knees bruising on the stone floor.

“Put your hands here.” He gestured to one of the larger pipes. Even before his hands touched the surface, Roman could feel the heat radiating from it. It was far hotter than the one he had been tied to and although he braced himself he couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain when his hands made contact.

He snatched them back quickly, his palms an alarming shade of red. And without pausing, sprang to his feet, aiming a punch directly at the grey man’s immobile face.

“Stop moving.”

Roman felt his muscles lock, momentum sending him crashing to the ground as the grey man easily sidestepped his swing.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.” The grey man added, leaving Roman frozen on the ground where he landed.

Slowey the grey man stepped around him, crouching down by his head. “Look at me, Romulus.” Roman did so, only moving his eyes to stare at the flickering mirage of the grey man’s face.

Up close, the smell was so bad Roman felt the remains of his pastry threatening to make a reappearance.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to tell me the truth. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, Roman nodded. The grey man – Julius – whatever it was, had already told him what it wanted him to consider the truth. But even so, ‘tell the truth’ was an easy enough order to get around. Truth being in the eye of the beholder and all.

“And if you don’t, I am going to tell you to hold onto that pipe again, and I am going to tell you to keep holding it until I am satisfied with your answers. Do you understand?”

Roman swallowed.  He nodded again.

“Did you kill your father? Tell the truth now.”

“No.” he said quickly and then bit his tongue, cursing. Franticly he looked up at the grey man  “You, you said that was a truth for The Marquis, not for everyone I can’t just –“

“Raise your left hand.” the grey man said mildly. “Bring it here.”

Romulus felt tears of frustration and fear spring to his eyes. He was stupid for thinking he had a chance at this. Julius’ tests were never designed for him to pass.

***

Roman wasn’t sure how many hours passed before the grey man seemed satisfied.

Fortunately, he had methods of persuasion beyond just the pipe. When Romans’ left palm had become completely coated in blisters the grey man had handed him walking stick and instructed him to bring it down hard on his own back instead. And then his shoulders. The side of his face. His left palm.

The grey man never touched him himself.

He didn’t have any need to.

Whenever there was a pause between punishments he ordered Roman to stillness. Time which Roman happily spent fantasising, first of smashing the stick down across the grey man’s head, then of pressing his own eyes to the hot pipe.

Even if they took him home – he could not allow himself to lay eyes on Remus. That was the one thing he could not fail on.

“Did you kill your father?” asked the grey man.

“Yes.”

The stress of raising Romulus, of hiding the curse; there was no doubt he’d contributed to his fathers early death. It was true, at least to him.

“Did you curse your brother?”

“Yes.”

When he was a little boy there had been a phase where he tried to put a curse on Remus daily, and Remus him. The kind of curses they dreamed up were for itchy feet and stinky farts, and none of them had worked, but it was still technically true.  

“Why?”

“I was jealous of my brother.”

If Roman had only been born a half hour earlier he could have avoided a lifetime of being second best. He could have avoided his curse. Grown up with his Father instead of Julius. Not that he would wish any of that on Remus but. It was natural, surely, to be a little jealous of his brothers freedom.

“Good.”

Julius’ face smiled down at him. He reached out with the grey mans hands to stroke Romulus’ hair, like he sometimes did when he was a child. “You see Romulus, there is always a way to work within the confines of your curse, so long as you are willing to look for it. I taught you that.”

“Where are you?” Romulus whispered.

“I am waiting for you.” he smiled. “I have no sons Romulus, no one to pass the Stewardship to. And we must think about the future of our kingdom. When you are back, we can write a new story.”

“You…you’re ruler?”

Romulus frowned. There was a missing piece here but he couldn’t find it. The heat and pain were making his brain slosh against the inside of his skull. He found himself leaning in to the hand in his hair, even as revulsion rippled through him. “If you’re ruler then where’s –“

“Where’s the serpent?”

Roman blinked. Looking up, he found that Julius was gone again, the grey mans expressionless face staring back at him.

“What?”

“The serpent. Where is he?”

“I don’t – I don’t know what you mean.” Romulus held his injured arm close to his chest, curling over it protectively.

He heard the disappointed sigh and flinched even before the grey man brought his other hand to Romans’ bruised shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Look at me.”

Romulus did, eyes bright.

“I know he has left his prison. I know he was with you at that inn. I sent that stupid boy to get him and he found you.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Romulus wailed, hating the childish wobble in his voice. “There wasn’t anyone else at the inn.”

“No?”

Julius eyes were peering out of the grey man again, a cruel glint to them. ”You were alone?”

“Yes.” Roman told him. Voice steady.

He’d entered the inn alone. He’d sat in the room alone. Climbed out of the window alone. Anything else was none of Julius’ business.

Before the grey man could speak again, a clatter from the next room made them both jump.

“Hmph. He’s early.” the grey man murmured.  “Get back to your place.” He gestured to the pipe Roman had originally been tied to and, haltingly, Roman crawled towards it, sprawling at the base.

“If The Marquis asks, tell him nothing about your injuries.” the grey man added lazily, taking up his position in the centre of the room, fading back into the background.

Roman grunted. It wasn’t a bad plan: his most visible injuries – the burns on his hand which he couldn’t stand to look at – could be explained away as being caused by the very pipe Lucius had tied him to. As usual, nothing could ever be pinned on Julius.

They waited. But neither the Marquis or his men appeared.

The grey man stood across from him, gazing out into the darkness of the next room. Roman wasn’t even worth looking at.

He slumped further against the pipe and tried to focus on breathing. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, though the worst by far was his hand. He shivered from cold, which, given the heat of the room, couldn’t be a good sign. He let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion threatening to take him again.

And then he felt a soft pressure on his lap.

“Mrrp.”

Roman opened his eyes. Then he closed them again.

He opened one eye. It was still there.

“Mister Mittens?” he asked, slightly hysterically.

Romulus and Remus had grown up with dogs. He wasn’t sure if cats were supposed to be able to feel smugness, but this once clearly did. It butted it’s head against Roman’s chin with another self-satisfied “Mrrp.”

“What?“ The grey man was staring at the pair of them, looking as confused as his expressionless face could manage. “Where did that thing come from?”

Roman was saved from having to answer by a crossbow bolt. One that came through the open door, burying itself in the grey man’s skull.

Chapter 7

Extra warnings

Consent stuff – Roman relives a memory of being sexually assaulted (he doesn’t necessarily think of it in those terms). A drunk man kisses him and pushes him against a wall. The man tells Roman to ‘kiss me’ without knowing anything about Romans curse. They are interrupted before it goes beyond kissing. (whether anything else would have happened, or whether the man would have stopped if he had known about the curse, is not shown in the text). It is implied that this sort of situation has happened to Roman before, and that it has gone further, but this is not explicit.

Violence stuff – Roman is tortured in this chapter. This includes cutting, burning and beating with a stick. The majority of this is not described in explicit detail but it’s certainly going on. Due to the nature of his curse, most of this takes place due to another character ordering him to hurt himself. Roman briefly contemplates burning his own eyes (for ‘trying to get around my curse’ reasons rather than ‘self harm’ reasons) . Someone also gets shot in the head with a crossbow. Roman also spends most of this chapter dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke .

I’m not totally sure what this falls under but its grim stuff – a character from romans past spends a lot of this chapter tyring to gas light him/ manipulate him into believing a set of false memories. Roman retains his correct memories but gets hurt a lot in the process. Meeting said character causes Roman to dissociate (I think this is the correct term but please correct me if I’m wrong), he continuously switches between his name and his childhood name during the chapter and at some points reacts as if he was a child.

[dmsden]

A History Lesson - Looking back at D&D’s history

Hullo, Gentle Readers. Well, this is the 5th Monday in March, and that means I get to write about anything I want! It’s also my birth month, which means it’s my anniversary of getting into D&D (42 years!), and that has me feeling nostalgic. Coupled with a discussion I had recently with some friends, I thought it would be fun to look back at the various editions of D&D and give you all a bit of history. I’m not going to get into Gygax vs Arneson or any of that. I’m only talking about the published game itself, not its creators or its storied origins.

The original D&D (or OD&D as it’s sometimes called) came in a small box. It had three booklets inside - Men & Magic, Monsters & Treasure, and The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures - along with reference sheets and dice. Each was softcover and roughly the same dimensions as a DVD/BluRay case. The game was pretty rudimentary - for one thing, it assumed you already had a copy of Chainmail, D&D’s direct wargame predecessor. It also recommended you have a game called Outdoor Survival for purposes of traveling through the wilderness. It had only three classes - fighting man, magic-user, and cleric - and nothing about playing other races. It did have the insane charts that 1st edition would ultimately known for, and it was possible to play a pretty fun game of D&D with it, as its popularity would come to show.

The game expanded through similar chapbooks - Greyhawk, Blackmoor, Eldritch Wizardry, Gods Demigods & Heroes, Swords & Spells. With the exception of the last one, each brought new facets to the game - new classes like Thief and Monk, new spells, new threats. It was clear the game was going to need an overhaul, and it got one.

I consider this overhaul to yield the real “1st Edition”, as so much of the game didn’t exist in those original games. The game split into a “Basic” game, just called Dungeons & Dragons and Advanced Dungeons & Dragons.

The basic game was a boxed set that included a rulebook, a full adventure module, and dice...or, well, it was supposed to contain dice. The game was so popular and new in those days that demand for dice outstripped production. My copy of D&D came with a coupon for dice when they became available and a sheet of “chits” - laminated numbers meant to be put into cups (we used Dixie Cups with the name of the die written on it), shaken, and a random number pulled out without looking. It was meant to introduce new players to the game, so it was a trimmed down version. Races were human, elf, dwarf, and halfling, and classes were fighter, cleric, magic-user, and thief. The box only included rules for going up to 3rd level, with the intention that players would then graduate into AD&D. This is where I joined, with the old blue cover box set and In Search of the Unknown, before Keep on the Borderlands even existed.

AD&D was the game in its full glory. Along with the races I mention above, we got half-elves, half-orcs, and gnomes. The four basic classes also had sub-classes, like paladin and ranger for the fighter, druid for the cleric, illusionist for the wizard, and assassin for the thief. There were rules for multi-classing, as well as “Dual-classing”, a sort of multi-class variation for humans only, which, when done in the correct combination, could yield the infamous bard...which didn’t actually yield any bard abilities until around level 13 or so.

This edition had 5 different saving throws for things like “Death Magic”, “Petrification & Polymorph”, “Spells”, and so on. It had the infamous Armor Class system that started at 10 and went down, so that having a -3 AC was very good!  It also had specific attack matricies for each class; you would literally look on a table to determine the number you needed to roll on a D20 based on your class, your level, and your opponent’s armor class. It was fun, but it was very complicated.

It also had some, frankly, shitty rules. There was gender disparity in terms of attributes, which my group totally ignored. Because the game designers wanted humans to be a competitive the game, and because non-humans had so many abilities and could multiclass, non-humans were severely limited in the levels they could achieve in most classes. In fact, some classes, such as monk and paladin, were restricted only to humans.

As the years went on, things got a bit muddled. It probably didn’t help that the rules in Basic D&D and AD&D didn’t perfectly line up. In D&D, the worst armor class was a 9. In AD&D, the worst armor class was a 10. All of this led to an overhaul, but not one considered a separate edition. AD&D mostly got new covers and new books, like the Wilderness Survival Guide and Dungeon Survival Guide, Monster Manual 2, and the Manual of the Planes. It got a number of new settings, too. In addition to the default Greyhawk setting, we got the Forgotten Realms setting for the first time, details of which had been appearing in Dragon Magazine for years, thanks to the prolific Ed Greenwood. We also, eventually, got the whole Dragonlance saga, which yielded the setting of Krynn.

In this new version, Basic D&D broke off into its own game system to some degree. Elf, Dwarf, and Halfling started being treated like classes rather than races, with specific abilities at different levels. Higher level characters could be created using progressive boxes - Expert, Companion, Master, and Immortal, each with its own boxed set and supported by Mystara, a completely different setting that got its own updates over the years. It was odd, because D&D essentially was competing for players with AD&D, and I remember arguments with friends over which version was better (I was firmly in the AD&D camp.)

In 1989, when I was in college, they finally brought forth 2nd edition D&D. This streamlined things a little. Armor Class still went down, but now attack rolls boiled into a single number called To Hit Armor Class 0, or THAC0. It made the whole process of figuring out what you needed to roll a bit less cumbersome, but it was still a bit awkward. The classes got a lot of overhaul, including making Bard its own core class. But what I remember best about 2nd edition was the boom in settings. This was the age of settings, and many beloved ones got started, including Dark Sun, Planescape, Ravenloft, and Spelljammer.

It was also the age of the “Complete Handbooks”. They brought out splatbooks about every class and race in the game, as well as books expanding several concepts for the DM, such as the Arms & Equipment Guide, the Castle Guide, and the Complete Book of Villains. There were also splatbooks about running D&D in historic periods, such as Ancient Rome, among the ancient Celts, or during the time of the Musketeers. The game got new covers for the rule books again, and a bunch of books about options started coming out. It was a boom time for books, but many people complained there was too much.

Without going too deep, TSR ended up in severe financial troubles. They declared bankruptcy, and there was real fear of the game going away. And then Wizards of the Coast (WotC) stepped in. They helped TSR get back onto its feet, and they helped produce some modules specifically engineered to help DM’s bring an end to their campaign...possibly even their whole campaign world...because something big was coming.

That something big was, of course, 3rd edition D&D. The game got majorly streamlined, and many sacred cows ended up as hamburger. AC finally started going up instead of down. Everything was refined to the “D20″ system we’ve been playing ever since. Races could be any class. There were no level or stat limits for anyone. After years of the game being forced into tight little boxes, it really felt like we could breathe. I had stopped playing D&D, but 3rd edition brought me back into the fold. I often say that 3E was made for the players who’d felt constricted and wanted more flexibility.

The trouble with 3E, and its successor 3.5, is that it was still a dense and difficult game for newcomers to get into. It’s been acknowledged that D&D essentially created many of the systems we see and know in other games - experience points, leveling up, hit points, etc. But trying to break into the experience for the first time was difficult. The look of 3E was gorgeous, but I understood that it must seem awfully daunting to someone who’d never played.

4E and its follow-up, Essentials, was an attempt to course correct that. They tried to make this edition incredibly friendly to new DMs, and, frankly, they succeeded. By creating player classes and monsters and magic-items that were all very plug and play, they did a great job of creating a game that someone who had never DMed before could dive into with no experience or mentor and start a game pretty easily. Encounter design was given a lot of ease, and there were promises of a robust online tool system that would help out with many of the more tedious aspects of playing.

There was also a lot of shake up in terms of choices. Suddenly, new classes and races were proliferating like crazy. We got the dragonborn, the tiefling, and the eladrin right in the core book, but we said good-bye to the gnome and half-orc at first. Suddenly the warlock was the new class everyone wanted to try. We got paragon paths and epic destinies that would really shape a character as time went on. The game went very tactical, as well, which some of us loved. The concept of rituals came into the game. Later books like the Player’s Handbook 2 and 3 gave us back gnomes and half-orcs, and also gave us minotaurs, wilden, shardminds, and githzerai. We got new psionic classes, brand new class concepts like the Runeknight and the Seeker...

But there was a tremendous backlash. People felt that, in making the game so very plug and play, they’d taken a ton of choice away from the players. Without the tools (which were never that robust, frankly), it was almost impossible to navigate the massive panoply of options. And, worse, it was harder and harder to develop encounters without those tools. People complained that the game had gone more tactical in order to sell miniatures and battlemats. Given that I have never played the game without miniatures and battlemats (since I started in the days when D&D was still half-wargame), I found this odd, but I also understand my style of play isn’t everyone’s.

The one argument I will never understand is that it didn’t “feel” like D&D, or it was somehow ONLY a tactical game and not a role-playing game any more. Again, given that the original game didn’t even call itself a role-playing game, this felt odd. Personally, I roleplay no matter what game I’m playing. If I’m playing Monopoly, I’m roleplaying, doing voices, and pretending to be something I’m not. I honestly enjoyed 4E, and I know a lot of folks who did, too. A lot of it may simply come down to style of play. But I also enjoyed all the games that came before, including Pathfinder. To paraphrase the YouTube content creator The Dungeon Bastard, “Does your game have dungeons? Does it have dragons? Great. I wanna play.”

As a sidenote, in the months leading up to 4E’s release, a lot of internet videos were released by WotC emphasizing the nature of change and talking about differences in the rules. They also released some preview books showing the direction they were heading. WotC must have anticipated that people were going to find this edition very different indeed. They also cleverly brought in some very funny folks - Scott Kurtz from PVPOnline and Jerry Holkins & Mike Krahulik from Penny Arcade - and got them to play D&D for podcasting purposes. Looking back, this must’ve brought in a lot of listeners who might never have played D&D and given them a reason to try it out.

After its release, WotC clearly noted that missteps had been made, as this edition of the game was losing them players. They began work on what they referred to as D&D Next, and, this time, they did massive amounts of playtesting, some of which I participated in.

I don’t feel like I have to describe 5E to any of you, Dear Readers, as you could go to virtually any store and pick it up. I am a big fan of 5E’s simplicity and elegance, and I suspect this is the edition of D&D we’re going to have for some time to come, especially given its popularity. Given the effect of podcasts like Critical Role (and I might save an article on Critical Role’s importance to D&D until my next Freestyle article), D&D is likely more popular now than it’s ever been, with a much wider and more diverse audience than ever before.

I know I’m painting with broad strokes here, but I hope this was, at least, entertaining, and maybe you learned something, Gentle Readers. Until we next meet, may all your 20s be natural.

[ofcowardiceandkings]

UH WHOA not only am i posting art but theres so much of it lmfao

ive been meaning to do this for mmmm a long time, and i decided to get it cleaned up so i can present folks with my homebrew/headcanon/thingy for the d&d playable races !! i know ive missed a few off but these are ones ive seen more of over all in my own travels in Nerd Game lol

ive only DMed one thing so far (our lost mines of phandelver adventure was a total blast but oh boy the shenanigans) but im like ... drowning in it all, have been for a loooonng time since i first played Neverwinter Nights when i was like 11, i just didnt have a party to mess with yet lmao (fingers crossed our schedules get sorted so the campaign goes ahead soooooonnn).. so ive been developing some of these various homebrewy headcanons for uh over half my life

getting them all together in one place like this was unbelievably fun !!

gonna yell under the cut for a bit about it more but very shortly i’ll be opening for d&d character / item / creature commissions so watch this space or pop me a message to get in a queue <3

these headcanon things are half based on “that looks cool” and Sciencing. a lot of the more humanoid in some way races ive really pulled on human ancestors a lot, as well as muscle development in different sports. And Animals, because ye

i haven’t included humans in this mammoth endeavour because we should all know what a Human People looks like, and their proportions aren’t any different in the world of D&D i run at least lol similarly, because they’re an exact intersection between humans & either elves or orcs, the half-species arent included on here either [shrugs] i WILL talk about them some here though !!

i might eventually update this with some npc generators ive made using my own descriptors and headcanons >.>

ELVES av height; 5′6 | heads-high; 8.5 generally long limbed, with fine wispy hair, elves senses are very heightened. helping in this, their eyes are almond-shaped with slightly narrow pupils, their large radar-like ears are very mobile, and the underside of their noses are covered in a lightly damp pitted leather. part of their ability to maintain grace with an elongated frame, aside from longer springy feet, is aided by a tail built somewhat like a horse, with a skirt of hair down its length, only with a slightly longer bone to it than would be seen in the typical pony. excepting a very light dusting on their lower limbs, they typically have very little body hair. sometimes their skin shimmers, or freckles sparkle.

GNOME av height; 3′6 | heads-high; 6.5  gnomes are almost like diminutive elves with a few key differences. their hair tends to be wild if left alone, but is often styled wildly anyway. set rather low on rounded but long faces, their large almond eyes are keen, and small hands very nimble. it’s not sure if its due to their close environments or frequent encounters with accidents in experiments, but their skulls are surprisingly hard, and they possess small horn nubs made of bone and coated in keratin. their small petal-shaped ears are set low and point outward, and are able to move a little to catch sound. they may look fragile due to their size and build but they are pretty hardy and more than capable.

HALFLING av height; 3′ | heads-high; 6 a very hardy but soft and welcoming folk, halflings are built for walking and surviving well, often coming from a semi-nomadic tradition. they typically have round faces with stronger jaws and soft round eyes, and their large ears are pointed upright. their figures easily get a little curved and chubby, especially when they have easy access to decent food, in preparation for harder times and the odd period of hunkering down for some downtime, say in poor weather. truly the most functional part of a halfling is their short powerful legs with big fairly flexible hard feet, and lion-like tail for balance, both insulated by hair.

DWARF av height; 4′3 | heads-high; 6.5 dwarves are accustomed to life in tougher terrain, typically with large parts spent in the ground. their broad frames are also squat down with thick short limbs, for huge power and for life in tunnels. wide feet keep them steady and sensitive to significant seismic energy in the earth, and wide hands aid in their work and the feel of the rock. their large round ears stick outward and are slightly mobile, large noses help condition the air, and high-set eyes with huge irises aid their vision in darker spaces and the ability to peek over things without being fully exposed. their skulls are also very thick just in case of falling rocks. all dwarves are very hairy and grow beards, taking pride in keeping and styling it.

GOLIATH av height; 7′6 | heads-high; 10 a totally different variety of rock & mountain people to dwarves, they do share a few traits. a goliath’s thick limbs are long with a big reach and huge stride, with big hands and feet for steady movement. as well as being hugely tall, they are broad, especially in their shoulders, with a long neck elevating their head further. their facial features tend to be very sharp, but long. they have little to no body hair, and they often dont grow head hair either, but decorate their skulls with tattoos. as they get older, the upper surfaces of their body develop pebble like growths under the skin, often in similar patterns to their habitats.

FIRBOLG av height; 7′6 | heads high; 9 firbolg typically live in deep forests but are actually a giantkin - although not too unbelievable given their huge height and thick build. large parts of their body are hairy, nearly furry, and their head hair is thick and wild, and they often have facial hair too. their large heads have long thick noses with an almost bovine leather to their top lips, and wide set eyes. their fluffy ears are very mobile, but when relaxed they drop and point downward. their nails are thick and sturdy, aiding in being even more dexterous while being so big. sometimes they are covered in layers of clothing, but they possess a tiny goat-like tail.

DRAGONBORN av height; 6′6 | heads-high; 8 dragonborns diverged from true dragons in the ancient past, likely due to a strong magical influence of some kind, but not so long ago that the bloodlines of dragons are absent from the race of dragonborn. (the illustration shows the typical head-shape and placement of ears, each bloodline has its own features). their chest is still very round like an animal, with deep chest muscles, a slightly less mobile shoulder, and short upper arm. their 4 clawed hands and feet somewhat resemble that of a true dragon, but smaller and a little less dangerous. the length of a dragonborn’s tail can vary from just the length from hips to floor, or up to their full height, and as well as being very useful for balance and dexterity, can be used for fighting. different bloodlines can interbreed, with it being a matter of chance which line is present in offspring (although metallic is more dominant over gemstone, and chromatic over both ... (ah yeah gemstone, ill get to that soon))

AARAKOCRA av height; 5′ | heads-high; 8.5 as an avian species, especially one capable of flight, the aarakocra’s bones are hollow, making them on the one hand very agile but a little fragile. their large wingspan nearly brushes the floor, and their wings attach high on their back, through to a deep avian keel. their arms have a long forearm, which is covered in bird-like scutes, and their 4 clawed hands are still remarkably talon like which quite short palms and very mobile thumbs. their legs are very long and powerful, and backed by a typically wedge shaped tail. more often than not, their physical appearance takes after raptor species of birds, but different populations can trend towards many different appearances, including parrots and waterfowl.

TABAXI av height; 6′6 | heads-high; 9 tabaxi are an unusual sight in many places still. their cat-like bodies are very flexible and suited to their athletic climbing lifestyle. their long hands and feet have very a powerful grip, and they can retract their front claws. their long feline face is something like a cheetah or a clouded-leopard, with large highly mobile ears, large eyes and a strong nose. 

ORC

av height; 6′6 | heads-high; 8

orcs are very powerfully build, with heavy muscles and thick bodies overall. compared to other humanoids they can look a little gorilla-like. their short legs are usually a little bent to carry weight better instead of busting knees when locked. their course wiry hair grows profusely all over their body. their strong nails often grow out a little pointed. their large thick heads have high heavy brows and protruding lower jaws, short round noses and low bud-shaped ears which stick outward. the lower jaw and sometimes upper contain tusks, sometimes multiple tusks, which are greatly cared for and very impressive.

HALF-ELVES av height; 5′6 | heads-high; 8.25 a half-elf’s build will be somewhere between human and elf, often inheriting something of an elf’s eyes and nose leather, shorter elf ears, and maybe a small tufted tail something like a rabbits

HALF-ORCS av height; 6′ | heads-high; 8 a half-orc’s build will be somewhere between human and elf, often inheriting something of an orc’s skin colour and dark and profuse wiry hair, shorter orc ears, and some small tusks.

GOBLIN av height; 4′ (stood straight) | heads high; 5.5 bat/cat-like ears, nose something like bear/cat, domed head, arms/legs same length, sparse wiry hair, claws, short digits, lithe but very strong and hardy

HOBGOBLIN av height; 5′3 (stood straight) | heads high; 8 bat/cat-like ears but pinched at the base, nose something like bear/cat, very domed head, arms slightly longer than legs, claws, sparse wiry hair, quite broad

BUGBEAR av height; 7′ (stood straight) | heads high; 7.5 bat-like ears, long domed head something like a lion/bear, arms very long, nearly totally covered in thick fur, big tusks and often fangs, very bear-like hands/feet, big claws, very broad

TRITON av height; 5′2 | heads high; 7.5 lithe but well muscled, quite streamlined for a humanoid, frilled ears, pretty flat face, fins on limbs/back, “hair” is tendrils/fins/etc, short strong legs & long arms, long webbed fingers, long flipper feet, gills along front/side of chest

YUAN-TI PUREBLOOD av height; 5′9 | heads high; 9 domed angular faces, lips are not humanoid, triangular eyes, scales, quite flat nostrils with sense pits following along underside cheekbones, very little cartilage in ear, some may have cobra hoods extending out of ear instead, very tall and thin with small hands/feet, reptilian claws

CENTAUR av height; 7′ | heads high; 10 fairly stocky pony body (usually about 4′10 at withers), very muscled front end, long neck & sloping human-shoulders, long faces with long broad noses, prominent lips, horse-like ears sticking up and out, their whole scalp can grow hair but shaved sides are common, can grow hair nearly all down human-spine

KOBOLD av height; 2′6 | heads high; 5.5 almost alligator-like head & eyes, tiny nub horns, quite animal-like chest, arms/legs same length, thick stubby tail same length of body, 4 digits with stubby claws, lithe but strong for their tiny size

KENKU av height; 4′ | heads high; 5.5 corvid features, deep chest but no keel, longer arms than legs, 4 digits with talons, hands human-like but scaled, wedge-like tail half of leg height, not-quite fully bird feet.

LIZARDFOLK av height; 6′6 | heads high; 7 iguana-like, egg-shaped head, neck wattle, line of back spines varies in height, long arms and legs, very reptilian hands and feet with long claws, elbow spikes

GRUNG av height; 3′ | heads high; 6.5 large heads, neck leads nearly directly into torso, super flexible, very long limbs, triangular body, short upper arm, shorter thigh, large hands/feet, 4 digits

LOXODON av height; 7′6 | heads high; 5.5 large head, trunk as long as torso, short legs / long arms, huge bones under thick muscle, thick skin, 4 digits with thick nails, large hands / rounded cushioned feet, v e r y broad and thick build, small tail with tuft at the end, 

TORTLE av height; 7′6 | heads-high; 7 thick wrinkled skin encased in huge shell, stooping posture with neck extending forward, very long arms & short legs, 5 digits with reptilian claws, boxy head, heart shaped from above with features set far forward, tail to balance stoop

MINOTAUR av height; 7′ | heads-high; 9 powerful build with thick bones, typically well muscled, bovine head on thick neck, often very large horns, fairly long tufted tail, big hooved feet, broad 4 digit hands with thick nails, hair length varies

PLANE THINGS ???

listen this was a lot easier in the edition i first encountered lol anyway, until anything else comes up in extra material im just applying a few square & rectangle venn diagram rules

a useful word; planetouched. i dont really know why WotC seems to have dropped that term for at least 5e (i missed 4e entirely) but it refers to a “mortal native outsider” with lineage or influence from a plane other than the material, so “a material plane native creature with non-native plane influence, which can die”

GENASI height depends on material plane parent the result of a material plane / elemental pair (usually genies). they usually take after their material parent in build and broader features, but their elemental heritage comes through in features like magical hair, bright coloured eyes, unusual body temperatures, innate magics, etc.  genasi can interbreed with themselves, and the crossing of two elements can produce some interesting results (im working on that :>)

TIEFLINGS height depends on material plane parents this is the first of the squares & rectangles, and tbh its basically canonical. a tiefling is the result of a material plane humanoid being born with fiendish* influence. the word ‘tiefling’ refers specifically to a human with fiendish influence, but is also an umbrella term for ALL fiendish planetouched creatures. these DO have some names mentioned in the play material ! fey’ri = elves, tanarukk = orcs, wisplings = halflings, maeluth = dwarves, etc. so all fiendish planetouched are tieflings, but not all tieflings are human-based. the fiendish influence can be dormant for years or just string along for decades. AnyWay, all of them have horns, most have tails, odd skin or eye colour, and others can have all sorts of extraplanar features. *(fiends are another venn diagram thing in D&D, its an umbrella term for both demons and devils) 

AASIMAR height depends on material plane parents aaand this is the second of the squares & rectangles, the not-strictly-canon one. okay duplicate what i said about tieflings, but make it about celestials not fiends, basically lmao. aasimar is an umbrella term, but also a human/celestial planetouched specifically! unlike the above, since its my homebrew concept i dont have other words specifically for other races’ celestial planetouched, but i’ll get there watch this space lol EnyHoo, they all tend to have a strange glow about them in general, but usually in their eyes, and maybe hair especially. it isnt uncommon for them to have a kind of halo around themselves, or glowing glyphs/runes/sigils on or around them either. while MOST dont have full wings, a dusting of feathers isnt unusual. the features of celestials can vary a lot more. for example, unicorns and leonals are actually celestials!

aaand the slightly odd-ball;

WARFORGED height depends on build purpose these are an interesting case, as warforged are actually constructs, brought into this world by the fusing of organic muscle (like wood or leathery material) to an inorganic shell (like stone or metal), imbuing a life-giving fluid of some sort to act like blood, and bringing life to it by a powerful ritual - a unique glyph etched into their heads. as their name suggests they are usually created to become soldiers, or other army positions, although they could be suited to other purposes. unlike most constructs, they are fully self-aware and have a mind on par with humans. they do not need sleep (but require rest) and they also do not naturally reproduce. if they live longer than their purpose, then they are turned loose to deal with the world as they wish. as they are MADE they can vary greatly depending on who made them, and for what exact purpose - although they tend to have beak-like mouths, and 3 digit hands and 2 toed feet.

AV. HEIGHT CHART FROM LEFT TO RIGHT !!! human - elf - dwarf - gnome - halfling - orc - goliath - firbolg - dragonborn - aarakocra - tabaxi - kenku - hobgoblin - bugbear - yuanti - triton - kobold - grung - lizardfolk - tortle - centaur - minotaur - loxodon

oooboy that was a lot of waffle :L

[felassan]

Thoughts on Dark Fortress #2

(This post is under a cut due to spoilers.)

So late with this one! some stuff irl was keeping me really busy and hyper-distracting me lately, but it’s finally over now so I’m back on my bioware bullshit. :D

Overall there were a lot of beautiful or awe-inspiring scenes in this issue, and a lot of great, meaningful / poignant character interactions and moments between characters. It’s pretty impressive actually how much was able to be packed in. I posted some of my favorite panels here. also omg! the action sequences! the big reveal! the ending!! woww

cool scene-setting, panned out shot of Neromenian and behind it, the Dark Fortress, to immediately pull you back into the world and ‘where we left off’. the combination of ruined dead trees, red lights, lightning and fire/smoke is very atmospheric and hints at what’s ahead

“From this... city, if we can call it that” is a sick burn and reminds you that the Qunari are technologically more advanced than most of the rest of Thedas, from their cannons to their aqueducts

more individually distinct Qunari soldiers, sth I again appreciate

! last issue there were big ‘You haven’t seen the last of Tractus!’ vibes, naturally, but I didn’t expect him to escape by stabbing and killing the Qunari using a chair-leg..!!

the last panel on the first page of Karasten is really good. the way it’s colored, the way it’s lit, the light and shadow, the fiery backdrop, cinders floating, the details of his expression.. 👌 it also makes me think to the possible future, to DA4 when mainland Thedas may be continuing to face the entirety of the Antaam

in Vaea’s acrobatics scene on the bridge, I know rationally that she’ll be fine but couldn’t help but worry for her. again I like how they don’t shy away from showcasing Vaea’s specific abilities. also the attention to detail - you’d think some rocks are just some rocks, but it highlights the risk she’s undertaking that if she falls it’s into rough seas which could dash her against the jagged rocks :’S. Vaea, gooooo!

Fenris’ “Enterprising girl” line has big “Clever girl” meme energy :D

my heart can’t take Fran and Autumn leaning over the edge after Vaea in worry ;; or Aaron looking back in concern over his shoulder ;; or Fran’s tender reassurance ;; or Autumn’s Worried expression ;; the care and bonds which have grown between this group of characters ;;

notice Aaron starts drinking when Vaea’s away from them and they’re beginning to grow worried about her safety. the poor man’s nerves and stress levels

Fran touching the vegetation while she’s considering if she could use her magic to open the entrance from the outside is a nice touch

did Marius leap in front of Fenris and Fran there when the entrance opened?? damn, he’s quick. and the three of them look all scary and formidable here ready for combat. notice how the curve of the door and the spikes that go into the ground, and the composition of this panel, make it look like they’re standing in front of an opened dragon’s maw? ‘teeth’, a rumbling ‘roar’.. some nice foreshadowing here.

the reunion panels are so cute. Autumn’s lil tum as she jumps and Fran and Fenris’ lil smiles of relief and at Autumn’s reaction to seeing Vaea, then a rare happy beam from Aaron.. feel.. the love ;__;

red lighting in the tunnel sets a dangerous, dramatic build-up mood

👀 more info on Fenris’ past, on the specifics of the process which gave him his markings. in the panel where he says that it took a long time, his shadow on the wall behind him reminds me of the shadow of his past that has dogged him for so long :(

Fenris and Marius height difference

discussion of the process shows the power difference between blue and red lyrium. blue lyrium took a long time, red lyrium is almost instant

Autumn is such an intrepid little explorer and alert scout, tail and ears up, head forward. good girl!

“I just... worry about you, my girl”  ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚  I’ll be so sad if these are death flags for Aaron and he doesn’t make it out of here. also note Fran in this panel, who recently had to kill her own father and is still dealing with that, watching the strongly paternal moment between Aaron and Vaea :(

love Vaea’s faith in Aaron and her sense of humor. also I don’t know why, maybe it’s because Vaea met Sebastian, but her “Maker, no!”, although in a completely different and light-hearted context, reminds me of Sebastian’s “Maker nooo!” at the end of DA2 hh

the reference again to Hawke, who Fenris saw haunted by what they tried to do - save their mother - and couldn’t :’(. also with the shadow in this panel, here’s another person struggling with the shadow of his past qq. this is later emphasized again in Aaron when he continues to talk about his past and in the panel is a chain and manacle. smart visual metaphors, a must in the comic medium with limited space

mushroom skull 💀🍄

“It isn’t about what I’ve done. It isn’t about my failures. Or my choices. It’s about their impact” - he’s misty-eyed here as he thinks back to Ostagar.. does this line btw seem almost meta to anyone else btw? :D it feels like a meta reference to the experience of DA players and PCs, who are always having to deal with the impacts of their choices

I wanna point out that I was right on reading issue #1, when I said “I’m positive that in panel 2 here, it’s the exact moment when he sees Cailan die” ;;

So Aaron is also a veteran of the Battle of Denerim

reference to the Hero of Ferelden - “Those were someone else’s battles”. I’m being captain obvious here but I can’t help but [heart pitter-patter] at any and all references to the HoF

I like the.. parallel? is that the word? Aaron’s stories were him trying to inspire people to make a change, or him trying to convince himself of that. and now here’s Vaea, inspiring Aaron with her words in these panels. the little guys can make a difference! in the world of Thedas, you don’t need to be a big bombastic hero or a Player Character to have an impact 

lmao Fenris right on cue. the moments of humor/light-heartedness are nice because they break up the tension and are sprinkled throughout without derailing build-up or taking away from dramatic story impact. yknow?

yeah Aaron!! leave it behind. leave it to rot with mr mushroom skull (and hey the mushroom skull was there for a reason). again tho if this is a death flag i 

Fenris straight down to business with the tactics

its cute how close Autumn has been sticking to Fran

Tessa checking in on Fran again, as she did in issue 1

Could Vaea’s “Well, shit” be an homage to Varric? :D they have met

I also wanna point out that I was right on reading issue #1, when I said “My guess is that the thing Tractus shows Marquette and Nenealeus is probably a chained up dragon or similar”

the poor dragon :’( big dragon the Qunari had in Trespasser vibes

the sword has a really cool design, kind of reminds me of something a samurai might be depicted wielding

👀 lore-drop! so ancient elven arcane warriors used lyrium-infused swords. this seems to confirm the sarcophagus is an ancient elven artifact, no? makes sense, wasn’t it said that the sarcophagus’ design was based on the architecture/outfit-design type elements of a specific faction, and that this was done intentionally? it looks kinda ancient elfy in make, right? also about the lyrium-infused swords of the arcane warriors, well well well.. remember that the Evanuris and the ancient elves mined the bodies of Titans for lyrium, for power and to use as a resource. here’s an example of that use

as I read through this portion I became increasingly concerned for my boy Shirallas.. we really are in it now aren’t we 😭

the Qunari are launching STRAIGHT-UP ROCKETS ohhhh

pretty ‘lightshow’ over the wall in the “Let’s hope the fortress is as secure as Danarius boasted” panel hh

protective older brother Fenris, impish younger sister Vaea. love that dynamic, we love to see it. sheepish and exasperated Fenris is so cute

the Bone Pit dragon fight with Hawke and co reference!

I wonder how long the dragon has been captive here, and how Danarius/Tractus was able to capture it

lore-wise what are the implications here? when Fenris’ ritual was being undertaken, the sword and the sarcophagus were bombarded with magic, fire spells. in this one they aim to have the dragon bombard it with fire-breathing. is it just fire that makes it work/powers it, or is there magic in dragonfire, in dragons? it reminds me of “Your heart beats with the old blood, as well. Where do you think it comes from? It sings of a time when dragons ruled the skies. A time before the Veil, before the mysteries were forgotten. Can you hear it?”

purple color for the dragon’s growling sounds/typeset is a great idea

lets.. goooo!!!!

Marquette is such a nerd. later on when he activates the sarcophagus he has mad scientist vibes

the dramatic reunion face-offs begin!! as the prophecy foretold!!!!1

true to form, Marius DOES have nothing to say ahahaha, even at this, his personal climax. maybe Marius dies in the next issue, but Tessa lives and gets to go back to Charter

these Venatori look almost Star Wars

Shirallas my boyy.. nooo... don’t do it 😭

ah ah ah! try casting magic with no ARMS

Francesca a beacon of blue light and goodness

the splash combat page is masterful. everyone playing a part, so much going on, everything happening at once. a thing that sticks out to me about it is Aaron’s outstretched hand and alarm as he watches Fran fall 

Autumn with her lil hackles raised

“The Venatori have returned” dun dun dunn

goodbye Shirallas 😭😭😭

the composition of the second to last page with triangle/diamond-shaped panels and the framing of dragon wings is awesome

the Dread Wolf rises, “the Tevinter Imperium will rise again”.. on-point on-point cohesion

there he is, the red wraith

Super Saiyan Shirallas

what a note to end an issue on

wow wow wow!!

and separate to the above, some speculation based on the cover of Issue 3: the piece of metal looks like a broken collar coming off Shirallas, like the one there was on the cover of Issue 2 coming off the dragon. also he’s all bulky now with draconic talons/claws (reminds me of in-world legends of Reavers who dug too deep of their own power after drinking dragon blood and whose bodies consequently began to manifest subtle reptilian traits actually). I’ll be interested to see what results of this allusion between Shirallas and the dragon!!

[joshstambourine]

Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

[modkatisbacc]

I discovered Tiermaker,,,, also D tier is for those I haven’t played yet bc I feel I’d have a good time playing a Zandalari Troll or A Kultiran

S Rank: Elves (Very Unique starting Zones, in totally different places, considering Void Elves dont even START on AZEROTH)

A Rank: Draenei are very cool and I love their zone, Bloodmyst Isle my beloved. Humans are humans, but I got a soft spot for them since Jaianathan, my second character I have ever made, is a human. The Forsaken have such a cool starting zone, I don't remember what it looks like on retail, but I have one (Larilan) on BC.

B Rank: Races I don't play often but still think they are very neat and have WONDERFUL starting zones, especially Goblins, since you have a physical relationship with SEVERAL people on Keazan. You literally have the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and then your lover, who cheats on you with another potential lover (Which as far as I know is still based on your character's gender)

C Rank: "I've played them but its been a LONG time" races basically. Dark Iron Dwarf being the exception. Super cool and love them, but I didn't have the exact experience with them, but I'm going through WoD With mine so :) Valid. Tauren WOULD be up higher if I ever bothered to get any higher than level 6.

D Rank: "I don't have them unlocked yet" When I DO, Zandalari Trolls would be,,, so neat,, I think.

[rpgsandbox]

"Only a few understand adventurers. Most consider us insane driven by treasures, ancient secrets, fame, admirers, power, or what comes to mind. It couldn't be farther from the truth."  /Adbjorn Haig/

Enter the cruel and savage world of Atlas, where the ruins of forgotten civilizations are desecrated as the strange bones of the past begin to stir. Dark rituals mixed with corrupt technologies animate the ashes of the dead. As bloodthirsty hordes of barbarians and beasts alike roam the plains, the stern land can never be satisfied by the sweat and tears of the innocent. Mighty despots pass the time with their concubines behind high stone walls. Metal and magic have formed the land, erected floating islands, and twisted the deadly mountain paths. Take all you can before others plunder everything in this land of limitless possibilities! Rise as a mighty warlord or rot away like a maggot! Join us in the world of Atlas right here, right now!

"I have seen many shitholes on my voyages." /Feth Col/

Atlas – Rise or Die is a classic, vintage sword & sorcery tabletop RPG. In its style and mood, Atlas brings about the renaissance of the epic RPGs of the '80s with a modern, clean design and breath-taking illustrations.

If you are interested, don't wait! Get a sneak- peek of the layout right now! Come and look at how we imagined the book's design and the base of the 2d10 system!

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-e7_UOnNPa2cGsnwsowr55X9J2tFIPu1/view

The campaigns are housed in a brand new, progressive system that facilitates fast-paced and fluid gameplay. The system rests on the following seven main features:

A realistic, d20 compatible 2d10 system with low numbers. We believe that by using the result of rolls with 2d10s, we can eliminate some of the radical distribution of values often associated with d20s. This makes "Nat20" rolls even more epic and memorable, since their chance decrease from 5% to 1%.

We use a three-dimensional (race, class, archetype) character creation system, where by removing the traditional "alignment" aspect of characters and introducing the archetype system, well-rounded personalities can be created and played out.

The Atlas system allows for completely free character advancement, even maxing out a single stat is possible, though not encouraged by the system. It favors balanced characters and allows unique combinations of strengths and weaknesses.

Subsystems for NPC interactions, that allow overcoming obstacles by not only violent means. These make social interactions and investigations as enjoyable and manageable as combat encounters, resulting in immersive role-playing.

The XP system supports actual role-playing, not only combat.

The combat system is fast-paced and not roll-heavy. Alongside customary mechanics for damage distribution, it also emulates the dynamic physical positioning of combat participants. Combat maneuvers, boosts, and the decisions made in a fight scene this way become a fun activity instead of brainless rolls and damage calculation. Aiding our teammates and getting them in position come with substantive strategic rewards.

D&D 5th Edition compatible Setting on a brutal, bloodied, barbarian world of ancient technologies and dark rituals

“A great sword consists of three parts. You grab the grid, you defend with the middle and you kill with the point. It can’t be simpler.” /Adbjorn Haig/

Frankly speaking, ATLAS- Rise or Die, is not one but THREE unique books merged into one revised and united volume.

The first part is the Corebook which contains the basics of the game. This includes descriptions, explanations, added tables, and examples. All the presented sub-systems represent one, merged system that can be used as a core for any alternative games. It is with 5th Edition and with d20 system also compatible.

The second section is the Player's Handbook. This contains detailed information for players to create their character through the Handbook's unique 3D character creation system. Roles, Races, paths, highlighted classes, and much more are included in this book. Everything listed above serves the ultimate purpose of exclusive character creation to ensure that each player generates their unique character that is entertaining and cool to play with.

The third and last book is called Setting, which presents the wonders and dangers of ATLAS, a description of places, creatures, and everything that can be found on this barbaric land. It is full of adventures bringing you forgotten treasure, ancient monsters, and thrilling legends. The descriptions in this edition contain all the information a player needs to survive this brutal world. It is also "5th Edition-friendly".

All this will be brought to you in an old-fashioned hardcover book with the following parameters:

Hardcover, straight spine book

Classic portrait A/4 size

Matte art paper- core pages for stunning looks and to be easily readable

"When Enoon, our Dark Sun, arises, it shakes the calm waves of magic with its power. At such times, numerous disconcerting events manifest themselves all over Atlas." /Magister Athan/

Atlas – Rise or Die is more than another boring remake. Our goal is to bring back the atmosphere of classic game sessions in a unique new format, never seen before, through a completely modern, fresh, and trendy gamebook.

We are aiming to evoke a retro, vintage feeling with our design, all the while using high-quality, contemporary graphics, that would not have been possible in the ’80s.

Our own 2d10 system is less random and unpredictable than the classic d20, but it offers the same ease when it comes to calculation and keeping track of events. By using two ten-sided dice, average rolls are more frequent and exceptional rolls, like natural 20s, even more valuable - but is with D&D 5th Edition compatible.

We were adamant to retain as much as we can from the proven template of classic sword & sorcery RPGs while adding a few twists to make them better suited for the brutal world of Atlas. Our elves for example are sickly, degenerate nobles who rule their people through intrigue. Their savage relatives are bloodthirsty head-hunters, protecting their ancient forests and hunting down all intruders. The dwarves are tyrannical conquerors at the head of an enslaved populous, dwelling in underground fortresses, that they call cities. They often make deals with subterranean creatures only to have their aid in their territorial clan wars.

The fast-paced, narrative, and tactical combat system goes a lot further than the classic, "attack roll–damage roll" format. The combat maneuvers infused in attacks alongside the collected bonuses make combat less hectic, more enjoyable, and realizable.

It is not only the lovers of fight sequences who can find something to please them. We have developed influence and intuition systems to support non-combat situations, which give flexible frameworks for meaningful interactions, information-trade, and realizing player goals through NPCs.

In the world of Atlas, everything is about brutality and blood sacrifice, and so it is with our magic system. It is optimized for coming up with unique combinations, while it supports the creation of your own spells. Magic twists and drains its user, should they become too greedy, the price could easily become their lives.

“Atlas is a cruel violent world, where barbarism, blood, and brutality dominate.  But it wasn't always like that... A long time ago, ancient civilizations, advanced races, and rich kingdoms ruled this world, using their magic and technologies, rather than cold steel and muscle power.” /Magister Athan/

ATLAS is much more than a simple sword and sorcery world. It was shaped by barbaric realms, ancient monsters, and pioneer spaceships from forgotten civilizations. 

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, June 24 2021 11:00 AM BST

Website: [Old Mages Games] [facebook] [instagram]

[hopeymchope]

I don't know how well you know Dungeons and Dragons (if at all), but if you can answer this, what races and classes would each character in THH pick for their characters in a given game?

Do I know anything about Dungeons & Dragons? ... Aside from the classic Alignment Chart, no. I don't know much of anything about it.

Or at least I didn’t know much about it. Because: Will I do a bunch of unnecessary research into the current version of D&D just so I can try to answer this question? YES OF COURSE.

So I dove into the various classes available and the various races that are playable (including current expansions), read the official descriptions for them all, verified which race/class combos were allowed, and finally came up with a list. Obviously, I don't have the depth of knowledge that a legit D&D player might have, but based on just the base descriptions available in the official materials, here's what I came up with.

Makoto Naegi – Human, Paladin. It makes sense that Naegi would go for the most commonly played race in the whole game. You might think he’d go for the most common type of class, too, but nah — his passionate sense of justice lures him towards being a Pally.

Kyoko Kirigiri – Half-Elf, Artificer. Artificers are the class that most values knowledge and intelligence, making them easy for Kiri to respect. And the Half-Elf is a being of two worlds who is said to be curious, inventive, and ambitious. Those traits are certainly present in Kiri.

Celestia Ludenberg – Elf, Rogue. We know Celes loves the physical appeal of thin, pale, otherworldly figures, and we also know that she’s hardcore into playing games of deceit. Ergo, this is perfect.

Aoi Asahina – Gnome, Ranger. I think the gnomes’ joyous embrace of life and all its pleasures would really grab the cheerful Hina. Plus she’d like how cute they are. Obviously, we’ve seen her bond with a fellow athlete quickly in RL, so for her class, I think she’d be drawn to a physical type — one better known for dexterity than raw strength. That brings it down to Monk or Ranger, and I think Ranger allows her to be less self-serious than the focused studies of a Monk.

Toko Fukawa – Tiefling, Bard. The bard is a primarily a storyteller, after all. It fits with her talent, and besides, it’s not like she’s inclined towards direct violence. The Tiefling is what fits with her personality. The constant abuse and suspicion that the Tieflings receive really reflect how Toko feels in her daily life.

Genocide(r) Jack/Syo – Half-Orc, Rogue. If Jack/Syo is in charge during the selection process, a Half-Orc who feels that inexorable pull towards her inner bloodlust is natural. I waffled on whether to go straightforward Fighter or Rogue, but I think the Rogue’s sneakier aspects and tendency towards smaller blades has to speak more to Jack/Syo.

Chihiro Fujisaki – Halfing, Fighter. A combination of what Fujisaki would clearly relate to (the small, peace-loving halfing) and what Fujisaki most wants to be (strong in both body and mind) resulted in this unlikely pairing. I think the evident dichotomy between class and race also hspeaks to 

Sakura Ogami – Leonin, Monk. As the Ultimate Martial Artist who is constantly training to be the best, she’d see herself reflected the Monk that constantly strives for physical and spiritual perfection. But what wins out when she picks a race – her noble warrior side or her girly side that loves cute things? I found myself waffling between the noble, physically imposing Leonin and the adorable Gnome. But ultimately, her combatant side has to win out, because she’s prone to hiding her girlier side.

Mondo Owada – Dragonborn, Barbarian. Dragonborn are loyal to their clan above all else, which is something Mondo can get into. Barbarians value strength, obviously, but they also have the ability to explode into a powerful rage. Mondo might not even be aware of why that speaks to him…

Kiyotaka Ishimaru – Dragonborn, Wizard. I think Taka would feel lost and perplexed when faced with a choice of what race to take, so when Mondo takes “Dragonborn” because he thinks it’s rad, Taka is just inclined to stick close to his bro. Then he chooses Wizard because it’s said to be the most scholarly of the various classes, and he wants to make sure he’s taking his studies seriously in every possible version of his life.

Mukuro Ikusaba – Leonin, Fighter. Leonin are mostly concerned with their own race and are nomadic. They’re a proud race of warriors and tend to keep to themselves. Mukuro has lived a similarity nomadic life, and the one person she usually lets close is her sister. Besides, mythical beasts like a Leonin sort of fit with the iconography of Fenrir. And then the Fighter class is… just obvious.

Junko Enoshima – Elf (Drow), Warlock. I think it’s extremely Junko to choose the most beautiful and noble of races and then pick the most chaotic/psychotic possible sub-race within it. The Drow are a group of subterranean elves who murder and enslave however they see fit, typically killing entire families if even one member stands in their way. Perhaps she’d try to disguise herself as a Wood Elf for most of the game, only to reveal her true nature once they’re deep into play. Furthermore, I can see her choosing a Warlock that has sold their soul to a demon or a dark god in exchange for power because of how incredibly despairing that sounds.

Hifumi Yamada – Dwarf, Bard. Given his own stature AND how much pride Hifumi takes in his “craft,” I think he’d identify with the skilled craftspeople who are stout in build. Hey, he already has shown a preference for characters with a similar build to his own body if you take his love for Princess Piggles into account. I doubt Toko would appreciate him sharing a class with her, but he’s even more overtly proud of being a storyteller than she is, so it’s a natural choice.

Leon Kuwata – Human, Ranger. With an eye for speed and precision, I picture Leon being drawn to the Ranger class. I also see him finding most of the fantasy races too weird/goofy and preferring to go Human, which actually fits nicely given that Humans in D&D are known for their ambition. Leon is definitely big on that.

Byakuya Togami – Refuses to play because it seems so foolish and frivolous, of course. But if he somehow is sweet-talked into it: Elf, Sorcerer. The Elf is a being of otherworldly grace with a larger perspective on world events that other races can’t gasp. The Sorcerer is a character with a magical birthright thanks to their powerful bloodline. Everything about this speaks to how he sees himself.

Yasuhiro Hagakure – Satyr, Druid. Satyrs are gregarious and just want to enjoy life’s pleasures, which sure sounds like our boy. But a Satyr Druid? The way I see it, Hiro will be put off by the typical magic-wielding classes, which’ll mostly make him think of his hatred of the occult. But the Druid derives all his power from nature, so Hiro will somehow figure that’s totally ok in the same way that his own weird powers somehow aren’t occult to him.

Sayaka Maizono — Half-Elf, Bard. OH CRAP I ALMOST FORGOT SAYAKA. I think the push and pull of the two worlds that Half-Elves feel, which often leave them feeling like they belong to neither one, is something that Sayaka would find understandable given the pull of her industry vs her desire to live a more “normal” life. And the Bard thing isn’t just because it’s typically a musical role — it’s also because of Maizono’s desire to be someone’s sidekick/supporting role and step out of the spotlight. 

..........and there it all is! Sorry that this took so long to reply to, but as you can see, I’m a wordy bitch. I wound up with quite the variety across the cast, actually. I used almost every class and almost every race (no Clerics and no pure Orcs, but that’s all that got ignored). 

Now, the typical D&D party is recommended to consist of 4-5 players, so this is obviously waaaaaay too many characters for a single session to contain. But if I were to pick the 4 or 5 people I think would most easily get drawn into a single D&D game? I’d think it’d be Hifumi, Makoto, Celestia, Chihiro, and Hiro.

[accidentalspaceexplorer]

At the Door: Book Recs for Portal Fantasies

I’ve enjoyed a lot of portal fantasies over the years, and today I thought I would recommend a few that I particularly enjoyed. Some of these are more traditional portal fantasies with an actual door or portal, and some of them take the boundary a little more loosely than that, but they all feature characters crossing from a more familiar world to a world we don’t recognize.

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire

Every Heart a Doorway is the first novella in the ongoing Wayward Children series. The series follows various people who’ve traveled through a doorway to a different world and are attempting to figure out how to live in our world again. I really appreciate the way the series format allows McGuire to approach the relationship between the portal world and traveler from many different perspectives - some of the characters desperately want to go back through their doors, some of them have chosen to leave, and others are no longer welcome.

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow

I read this one really recently, and I quite enjoyed it! The Ten Thousand Doors of January is a traditional portal fantasy in some senses, like the fact that the boundaries between our world and the others are actual doors, but it’s much more about the titular January’s coming of age than it is about the journey through the portals. In fact, the portal worlds are mostly described in in-world stories rather than in the narration. However, I found January’s journey to be very compelling, and I loved the side characters.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

This is a fairly standard portal fantasy set-up: Elliott crosses a literal wall to get to a fantasy world with elves and mermaids and unicorns and all sorts of other magical creatures, where he ends up joining a peacekeeping group and learning about friendship, diplomacy, and love. So I absolutely love this book. It’s funny, it’s smart, and it has a genre-savvy protagonist so it can really pay attention to the tropes of portal fantasies and play with them! It was a delight to read, and definitely a surprise, and I ended up laughing out loud and reading parts of it to whoever was sitting nearby. One of my favorites.

Dark Lord of Derkholm by Diana Wynne Jones

Dark Lord of Derkholm, unlike the rest of these, is about the inhabitants of the portal world, rather than the travelers. Derk just wanted to be left in peace to make fantastical creatures, but when he gets roped in to playing the Dark Lord for this year’s Tour, he decides enough is enough, and sets about trying to stop the Tours and get these interlopers to leave them all alone. This is very similar to In Other Lands as far as its dialogue with existing fantasy tropes - Diana Wynne Jones is well-versed in fantasy tropes, and she plays with them to hilarious effect. But the novel isn’t just hilarity - the characters are all well-developed, the plot has a great ride, and by the end you’re so invested in what’s going on that you forget you first picked it up as a satire.

Sabriel by Garth Nix

Sabriel and its sequels are some of my favorite books of all time - the magic in them is the perfect blend of understandable and alien, plus the necromancy portion is unique and super interesting. I’ve based one costume and one D&D character on them for a reason! The portal portion of Sabriel comes in the distinction between Ancelstierre, the real world stand-in, and the Old Kingdom - there’s just a border, with an actual border crossing, in between them, made physical by The Wall. The Wall actually does something though - magic doesn’t work in Ancelstierre, machines and anything made by them fall apart in the Old Kingdom, and the seasons and even the weather is different on different sides of the Wall. It’s a cool way to do a portal fantasy, where the “portal” isn’t just for one person, but is marked out and used by lots of different people.

The City of Brass by S. A. Chakraborty

The City of Brass is the first of a trilogy (which I haven’t finished yet) about Nahri, who starts the book living in Cairo, where she is approached by a djinn and then spirited away to Daevabad, where she learns that her heritage is much more complicated than she expected. In this book, the “portal” isn’t a physical place, but rather a magical barrier sort of thing, that the djinn Dara takes her across. The other thing that makes this not a very typical portal fantasy (and arguably not a portal fantasy at all) is that while Nahri does cross into a separate world, there’s really very little discussion of her existence in the human world, and she doesn’t really cross back and forth. However you end up falling on its portal fantasy status though, I think it’s an excellent book, and I’m really looking forward to finishing the trilogy!

[kagrenacs]

Explaining the Iceberg #6

*Some things aren’t covered, namely things i’ve already discussed or content that I don’t feel is appropriate. And not everything is covered in depth

Tatterdemalion Moon Colonies: A since deleted forum post from MK, discussing the moon colonies of Reman that would later appear in c0da

Tamriel is the Far Shores: Orgnum is the immortal King of the Maormer, also said to be the Serpent God of the Sakatal’ indicating some connection to the Yokudan God of everything, Sakatal. Orgnum’s goal is to conquer Tamriel, this theory states that he may have mantled the Yokudan God and is confusing Tamriel for the Far Shores.

Water is Memory: One of the more difficult concepts to really pin down in these kind of theories, so bear with me. This topic has been brought up a few times in older lore discussions, and once again in ESO quite recently. First there should be clarification that I mean water both metaphorically and literally, just like the towers, there is no distinction between real and fake because this is a video game world. Second thing to note: There’s a lot of conflicting theories and ideas on this, i’m only providing the way I can conceptualize this all. If I provided every theory i’d surely hit some sort of character limit. Do you remember the metaphor about every soul in existence being a singular drop in an ocean? This is looking at the ocean itself, it’s the collective consciousness and memories of everyone out there, past, present and future. But this isn’t a synonym for souls and energy, this is a whole separate process. Sometimes souls are shown to be able to live without their memories (the soul carin), sometimes reflections of people's memories get stuck to places like ghosts (memory stones) When someone dies, their soul/energy and their memories may stick together and go to an Aedra or Daedra, or they might get split apart (like a Vestige) and end up in the Dreamsleeve to get recycled and in the Drowned Lamp which is a name for where all knowledge lost to history goes. This concept can be seen with the Daedra too, when discussing the ‘waters of oblivion’ when they get banished their essence heads back to this beginning place to spring back up. Water is memory also gets brought up quite often talking about Sotha Sil, who Vivec says is the selfishness of the sea, and whose ‘daughter’ is Mnemoli/Memory.

Crassius Curio, Time traveller: Another variant on the Crassius Curio plagiarism theory, accounting for why the lusty argonian maid is in ESO.

The Republic of Hahd: Mentioned in the Pocket Guide to the Empire, a group of people who claimed they lived off the coast of summerset, in an underwater civilization called Hahd. The only point in history that they became relevant was when they received tariffs for the transport of ‘mnemolite’ from the people of Hahd to the people of Nahd, and nearly sparked war between the Empire and the Altmer as they tried to figure out what was going on. Hahd and Nahd were both made up, thought to be by a group of psjjic students, as the island of Artaeum disappeared in that same year again.

Leaper Demons: Another name for Mehrunes Dagon, before he was cursed to become Dagon. Named this because of his ability to jump from Kalpa to Kalpa

Zero Stone: This is related to the towers, it’s the ‘heart’ of the tower, the piece that keeps it stable and functioning, essentially like a cornerstone. For the Red Tower and Walk-Brass this was a literal heart (the Heart of Lorkhan), but sometimes it’s other things like a fruit, or a person.

Tiber Septim Awoke Dagoth Ur: In the same short time as the Tiber Wars, where Tiber Septim was attempting to conquer all of Tamriel, Dagoth Ur awoken in Morrowind, which eventually forced ALMSIVI’s hand in signing the Armistice that would make Morrowind a part of the empire, hand over the Numidium, but allow Morrowind to largely keep it’s sovereignty. This theory suggests that Tiber Septim purposefully awoke Dagoth Ur as a long-term strategy, rather than trying to defeat ALMSIVI in wars. If not done purposefully, Dagoth ur may have been awakened by the presence of Tiber Septim (whose thu’um seemed to have came from Wulfharth, a survivor of the battle of Red Mountain and associate of Dagoth Ur)

Akatosh’s Shadow: MK mentioned Peryite as Akatosh’s shadow. Akatosh/Auriel largely introduced stability into the chaos of the Dawn Era as the God of time. Peryite has a similar function, that being natural order, where he micromanages Oblivion and Nirn. There’s more to this theory that i haven’t included due to sake of brevity  https://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/4zct3i/the_shadow_of_aka_peryite/

The people of Et’Ada: Mentioned in the books The Light and Dark and Sithis, the people of et’ada are the descendants of the clash between Anu and Padomay, the original spirits that would give up their forms to become mortal

The Dwemer became their creations: A thought that instead of the commonly accepted Numidium Skin Theory, the Dwemer souls are the ones powering their automatons. 

Lefthanded Maomer: An in-universe theory that the Lefthanded elves and the Maomer are related. Evidence for this may exist in Orgunm being ‘Sakatal’

Skyrim getting Colder: A theory that says Skyrim is entering the ice age because of the recent snowfalls and the presence of Sabertooth cats and mammoths.

Anti-Magik Zones: Probably taken from D&D, areas where magic doesn’t work for some reason or other.

The Greedy Man: Another name for Lorkhan due to him ‘stealing’ the divinity of his fellow Et’Ada

Vvardenfell Lesbian Anomaly: The prescence of a large amount of wlw npcs in ESO and the presence of Tel Mora, an island full of women and Mistress Dratha who says she hates men. While the ESO one i’d argue that there’s a fairly equal spread of same sex couples, and Tel Mora is certainly the original developers adding in something ‘strange’ by having an entirely female island, various Lgbt fans of the games have made their own theories on this. @boethiah has proposed that Tel Mora was established as a safe place for lesbians, and Telmoran is the in-universe equivalent to ‘lesbian’ 

Prism Textract: A reference to a book from the mod Legacy of the Dragonborn

Ruptga: The chief god of the Yokudan Pantheon, people debate on whether he’s equivalent to Akatosh or Magnus, if he’s even equivalent to any god. He was the first god to figure out the Walkabout, and taught the other gods how to survive Sakatal (God of everything) shedding its skin.

The Elder Council world control:  References a theory that the Elder Council is an incredibly powerful political entity that controls the entire world. (looking at how things were handled in Oblivion, doubtful.)

Tiber Septim Shapeshifting dragon: Ingame theories that Tiber Septim was a shapeshifting dragon based on the empire’s affiliation with them. (source seems to originate from GT Noonan, pre-Oblivion and Skyrim) Could be an early idea for Dragonborns, or perhaps just a wild conspiracy theory.

Insane Time-God: Another MK text, et’Ada Eight Aedra, Eat the Dreamer. States Aka has gone insane due to how many names he has

The Staff of Unity and Chaos: The object you need to assemble in tes Arena. Is able to open gateways to other realms, near instantly kill people. In some of the early drafts of the main quest of ESO, a similar relic was proposed called the Staff of Towers, and would have been similar to the main quest of Arena.

Dracocrysalis: Mentioned in the Nu-Mantia, it’s largely unknown what this means apart from ‘it keeps elder magic bound so it can’t change into something lesser’ based off wording it probably means something akin to changing into a dragon.

Telescopic Aurbis: Refers to a quote from MK A single Wheel? More like a Telescope that stretches all the way back to the Eye of the Anui-El, with Padomaics innumerable along its infinite walls. Essentially this refers to the cycle of Kalpas, all wheels lined up with one another would make a telescope-like shape. The focal point of the telescope would be Mundus, ascending upwards you hit oblivion, then Aetherius surrounding that, and then lesser, more chaotic realms beyond that. This is also mentioned in the Murkmire book ‘Lost tales of the Famed Explorer.’

Gaenor is Sai: Gaenor is said to be one of the hardest bosses of Morrowind, in the Tribunal expansion you can give him gold and allow him to become an incredibly strong warrior. He has incredibly high luck (770 points) making him difficult to hit. This theory states that he is either Sai, the god of luck himself, or a champion of his.

Haskill is the Actual Mad God: This might be a couple different theories. 1st: The events of the Shivering Isles is a trick played on the player character by Haskill/Sheogorath, and the Sheo you see and interact with is just a projection. 2nd: From a loremaster interview from ESO, Haskill states he’s the ‘vestige’ of Sheogorath, the mortal remnants of the person who mantled the mad god in the last greymarch.

Moraelyn=Nerevar: Moraelyn of the King Edward books was likely an early draft for Nerevar. Both have association with roses, both are from House Mora and are considered a champion of the Dunmer. He probably participated in the War with the Nords, being described in the 36 Lessons.

Tsaesci Vampire Language eaters: From MK’s And we ate it to become it and another interview. https://www.imperial-library.info/content/fireside-chats Tsaesci feed on language, he doesn’t state if this is metaphorical, or literal (if that even matters in these games)

Scarab’s transformation: Refers to Scarab that Transforms into the New Man, or Amaranth. The Scarab is a metaphor for godhood. (Scarabs are symbols of divinity in Ancient Egypt) and the New Man is a person achieving Amaranth and creating a new dream/universe.

Trinimalarky: A fun name for Malarky. 

King Dead Wolf-Deer: A Bosmer transformed by the Wild Hunt. Lived from the first era until the beginning of the third.

Multiple Underkings: Another statement by MK, general consensus seems to be this refers to the existence of the Underking as two people, Wulfharth a nordic general from the 1st era who held the title. Zurin Arctus, who may have taken up the title after the 2nd Era, when Tiber Septim turned him into an undead being. Or both of them sharing the same body known as the ‘Underking’

Thot-Box: https://www.c0da.es/thotbox/7b10359a40bba7d2e654bc10226f694a68009f15 the worlds worst choose your own adventure. From what I understand of KIMMUNE, a thot-box is some sort of AI

Baar Dau is Shit: Pretty well known at this point. One myth states that Malacath got into a disagreement with Vivec and pooped on Vivec City..

Nu-Hatta: In reference to the person, they’re an ancestor cult member. Otherwise this is used to refer to the Nu-Hatta Intercept written by MK. The text in question seems to be a list of the various ways mortals have achieved divinity. 

Talos brought back dragons: Not sure about this one, there’s too many results to filter through to find what this is specifically about

Lyg’s Numidium: The thought here is that if Lyg is the parallel to Tamriel, then it should also have a Numidium that reinforces time and makes events a reality.

Dawn Era Ideological warfare: From UESP, Quote: The Dawn Era was a period during which time followed an incomprehensible nonlinear path and the very laws of nature remained unset, making a timeline an artificial fabrication. A conflict was simultaneously a mere ideological difference of opinion and a manifest war. What this means in simple terms, all possible outcomes in the Dawn era were simultaneous. This might also refer to the Ehlnofey wars where the wandering ehlnofey (ancestor of men) and the old ehlnofey (ancestor of mer) differed in opinion about the existence of Mundus and went to war.

Vivec destroyed Yokuda: A reference to the 17th lesson of Vivec, where Vivec states For a year they studied under their sword saints and then for another Vivec taught them the virtue of the little reward. Vivec chose a king for a wife and made another race of monsters which ended up destroying the west completely. In a literal sense (not that this means much in context of the lessons), this seems to indicate that Vivec created the sword saints, who ultimately ended up sinking Yokuda with the Pankratosword technique. Vivec also said malewife rights.

Ayrenn KIMMUNE: Another MK text. This one states Queen Ayrenn is actually a 9th era cyborg from the future. This was written after MK read an early draft for the Dominion quests and wanted to make it cooler. The writers of ESO have stated they don’t consider this canon.

Tiger Guars: A bit of old morrowind lore, Imperials would mistakenly call Guars, ‘tigers’

Hermaeus Mora is a failed Elder Scroll: Two theories here: 1st: The Black Books are Mora’s failed attempts to create Elder Scrolls (The first pages reference concepts such as the Dreamer and CHIM, Elder scrolls are fragments of creation) 2nd: Hermaeus Mora himself is a failed Elder Scroll. The Census of Daedric Princes describes him as ‘born of thrown-away ideas used during the creation of Mundus’

SITHISIT: the Ehlnofex word for Sithis

Khajiit Tattoo theft: Rajhin the thief god was said to steal a tattoo off Empress Kintyra’s neck as she slept. 

Mythopoeia: irl, it’s essentially a term for ‘world-building’ In the context of the elder scrolls, it means the ability to affect reality using belief or the will to change (similar to CHIM) In morrowind Yagrum uses it to describe the enchantments Kagrenac placed upon the tools. 

Dragons Biological Time-Machines: In the early drafts for dragons, MK described them as Biological Time-Machines. While this isn’t entirely reflective of what they are now, some truth holds. Being shards of Aka, dragons inherently have some ability to alter time itself.

Argonian Tits: I can’t keep doing this.

The Elven Lie: From what I gather, it seems to relate to the idea that the gods are infallible, when in fact they have weaknesses and flaws.