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wisteriawilds · 5 months

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been thinking a lot recently about my latest dnd character (the brainrot is so real), so i wrote a little thing about her first meeting with her patron. everyone who decides to read this, meet evangeline ‘agency’ friloux, my tiefling barbarian/warlock absolute mess of a girl.

Cold. Hard. The feeling of hitting the ground ran like a shock through Evangeline before she had the chance to realize she was even falling. Pain. A twinge of blinding discomfort in her knee prevented her from standing back up immediately. How long had she been walking this time? It had to have been at least a day, maybe two. Time was something she no longer bothered to keep track of, not since the last time she’d been cast out. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no commitment she couldn’t miss nor person she needed to meet.

Hands planted firmly in the mud before her, Evangeline took a moment to breathe – or at least attempt to. She could feel the tenderness of the Earth, the softness of the mud that had yet to solidify. It was almost nice, almost comforting. Maybe she could stay here a while, take a moment to rest.

Shifting her weight to the uninjured leg, Evangeline settled further onto the ground. She barely noticed when the tears started flowing, more surprised that there were any left than of their appearance. There was a time in which she would reprimand himself for showing emotion so freely, afraid of the punishment that would be inflicted on her. At least in her current situation the only one who could punish her was herself – but boy, was she good at that. Her parents – if one would even call the myriad of failed guardians that – had taught her well. Silence was the only option, speaking out of turn would be dealt with immediately. Free will was simply an illusion to her; every choice she could remember having made was not her own to choose. Each time she was placed with another family, there was a second where she thought it could actually get better this time. And each time she was proven wrong. After running away six months ago, she vowed to never again have a family. They did more harm than good, she could take care of herself. What she didn’t dare admit, either out loud or to herself, was how desperately she wished for someone to care for her, to show her love and affection for the first time in her eight years of life.

A small glint of silver in the dirt between her fingers brought her attention away from her thoughts. What looked like the top of a circular band stuck out, barely visible in between the layers of Earth. Wiping away a stray tear, she struggled to brush the object free: a thin silver band with tarnished engravings she couldn’t quite make out. The new curiosity was more than enough to keep her mind at bay, the exhaustion taking the backburner for the moment. Without hesitation, she picked up the ring and slipped it onto her finger, the fit nearly perfect. It felt natural — almost too natural — on, like it was made just for her and her for it. There was a certain warmth to it, a sort of comfort she had longed for ever since she could remember. A smile spread across her face as she adjusted the ring to face front. It was quite a beautiful little thing, and it was all hers. Her first, and only, possession.

Burning. Fire. Heat. Smoke suddenly began to rise from the spot on her hand where the ring had rested on her finger, the once soothing warmth transforming into a blinding sensation of pure heat. Evangeline yelped, jumping to his feet before collapsing from the sheer pain of standing. The ring, sprung from his finger sometime during the onset of the burn, had fallen to the ground, now burning a circular hole into the earth. It burrowed deeper and deeper until all that remained visible was the growing column of smoke, so tall that it nearly reached the tops of nearby trees. Not a breeze in sight, the air felt overwhelmingly sultry as the temperature climbed a good ten degrees. Beads of sweat pouring down her face, Evangeline fought the urge to lose consciousness. It was a hard-pressed battle to win, yet she persisted. As the spots of black faded from her vision, the smoke appeared to take on the form of something almost… human like? It couldn’t be. She had to be hallucinating, there was no possibility of a sentient cloud of smoke.

As if determined to prove Evangeline wrong, the gaseous form solidified into a very strange looking woman. She could’ve been a tiefling if one were to squint, but there was some otherworldly air to her that set her in a world of her own. The woman nodded curtly at Evangeline, striding over to her and extending a hand.

“Hello, child.” Her voice boomed, channeling the forces of the fading flames into a resounding, powerful tone. Red hair flowed nearly down to her shoulders, wild and untamed, with crimson-pink ears pointing through the curls. Evangeline couldn’t help but notice how scarred the woman’s face was, — mirroring that of her own — and how the indentations and disturbed tissue seemed to add to her beauty. I wish my scars were beautiful, Evangeline thought.

Shakily extending a hand, Evangeline stepped within arm’s reach. “Who… are you?” she asked, feeling the heat transfer to her skin when the pair touched.

The woman smiled gently at Evangeline, kneeling to better match her height. “My name is Idalia. I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now, Evangeline.” Idalia placed her other hand on top of Evangeline’s, squeezing gently in attempted reassurance.

Evangeline’s eyes widened at the use of her name, her tremor expanding to the entirety of her arms. Determined to not show her fear, she steadied herself and looked confidently into Idalia’s eyes. “You know my name. Clearly you know who I am, things about me, my family — families — I’d guess. What do you want from me?”

“The question is what do you want from me, dear,” Idalia replied, a sweet dulcetness seeping into her voice. “You’ve gone through so much for such a young child, and I wanted to lend a helping hand. What is it you desire?”

Pulling her hands away, Evangeline stepped back and crossed her arms, a small scoff escaping her lips. Nobody ever asked her what she wanted, and if they did, it was never with good intentions. “Nothing, if it’s coming from you.” She turned away from Idalia, taking two steps in the opposite direction before something stopped her in her place.

Panic. Feet planted firmly on the floor, try as she might, Evangeline could not take a step. Something — someone, rather, — was keeping her still, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone was Idalia. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, the anxiety threatening to bubble over any second. She couldn’t let her see that, though. Weakness was not accepted. Ever. Evangeline took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand and contract. “I take it that was the wrong answer,” she called over her shoulder. “Release me, and I promise I’ll hear you out. I’d like to at least see your face when you threaten me next time.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Evangeline felt the pressure around her legs fade and her freedom return. She turned to face Idalia, as promised, mustering up the angriest, most threatening face she could manage. “What do you want from me?”

Shrill laughter filled the air, the sound more fear-inducing than even the holding spell. “You really are just a child, aren’t you? Pity. I had thought you smarter than that. Someone should have taught you how to recognize nobility when you see them, girl. To treat them with some respect.”

Now it was Evangeline’s turn to laugh. A cheery, mocking giggle matched the leering smirk on her face, the fear dissipating as soon as the woman opened her mouth. “And I thought you were smarter than to think mere words would inflict fear upon me. Nothing you nor anybody else says to me is going to cause me any pain. Not anymore. I’m not afraid of you, Idalia.”

There was such venom imbued into her name that Idalia couldn’t help but take a step back, overwhelmed with the sheer viciousness of such a small girl. It took only a few seconds for her to regain her composure, after which she rationed a more direct approach was necessary to get through to the child. “I see. How about I just get straight to it then? You are a poor, lost little soul, wandering from forest to forest in desperate search of enough nourishment and shelter to make it another week. You have no worldly possessions, no place to call home, no family to love you. You have nothing. You are nothing. And I am offering to change that. To give you a family, people who will show you care and affection for the first time in your entire life. No more will you collapse from exhaustion after days of walking, nor will you be kicked out by foster families who offered false promises of their undying adoration. I can grant you true happiness, if only you allow it.” Idalia laughed, eyes narrowed to glare harshly at Evangeline. “Now, fearful one, do you want a family or not? I’m not in the habit of making offers twice.”

Choking back a sob, Evangeline closed the distance between her and Idalia. Gently reaching a hand out, she stood on her tiptoes to reach out and brush her fingertips over the ‘X’ shaped scar on Idalia’s nose. The woman recoiled instantly, surprised by the tenderness of her touch. Evangeline held her contact, refusing to let the woman pull away. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” Evangeline asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone broke you too. I’m sorry.”

Idalia’s eyes filled with tears, the emotion overpowering any remaining malice she harbored towards Evangeline. She reached out and touched Evangeline’s brand, the three horizontal black lines charred deep into her flesh. It was the mark of prisoners who had been sent to Carta, a place reserved for those who committed only the most heinous of crimes. One mark per conviction, placed prominently enough the whole of Noven would notice and avoid them at all costs. Three marks, like the brand Evangeline bore, was the worst of them all. Only the worst of the worst, the scourges of the continent, received three marks. Done with remarkable precision, the brands were designed to last a lifetime, no matter how long that may be. Evangeline’s brands, however, upon closer inspection by Idalia, appeared slightly crooked, like someone had attempted to recreate them. Realization dawned upon her at once, and she cupped her hands around the child’s face. “Who did this to you?”

Her fingertips felt like razor blades running along Evangeline’s brand, every touch sending a shiver of pain through her face. The wounds had never completely healed, likely the result of the depravity of their infliction’s methodology. The pain had faded since they were first carved into her nine years ago, but from time to time they flared up with renewed vigor. She tried to forget how tender they still were, pushing the pain to the back of her mind so she could think clearly. “My… parents,” Evangeline answered, the word feeling strange and bitter on her tongue. “They couldn’t comprehend how a pure, human family like themselves could have a monster for a child, so they made sure everyone else would know the devil I am.” She laughed, brushing off their cruelty for a mere fact of life.

“You’re not a devil,” Idalia immediately interjected. “Nor are you a monster.” She tucked a piece of hair behind Evangeline’s ear before lowering herself onto the ground, motioning for Evangeline to sit next to her. She held her in gentle silence as she cried, finally letting out all the emotions she’d kept bottled in for the entirety of her ten-year lifespan. It was decided: she would protect this child, give her the family she not only yearned for but deserved.

Evangeline sniffled, crying softly into Idalia’s shoulder after settling down in the dirt next to her. Maybe this strange woman wasn’t so bad, after all. “Neither are you, Idalia. You’re not a monster at all.” No response came, but she could see the tears falling across the woman's face, eyes filled with emotion. Once there were no more tears to shed, Evangeline sat up to face Idalia, a question forming on her lips: “Will you tell me what you wanted from me now?”

Sighing, Idalia nodded and shifted to look Evangeline in the eyes. “It is part of my job to fulfill the desires of others. It involves a sort of exchange between myself and the other party: I grant your wish, you agree to a set of terms I’ve laid forth. Such is the offer I wanted to extend to you, though I do admit the terms I’d propose have changed significantly since meeting you.” Taking another deep breath, she steadied herself for her final proposal. “So, with that information in hand, I’ll ask one more time: What is it you desire?”

Unsure quite what to make of this, Evangeline sat quietly, pondering whether there was anything she desired strongly enough to agree to a deal with Idalia. “Honestly? Nothing. Nothing other than a real family, though I gave up on that dream a long time ago.”

With a flick of her hand, Idalia conjured a piece of parchment and a pen. She smiled gently at Evangeline, holding the parchment out to her. “If a family is what you desire, I can provide it. The terms of our arrangement are written here– I think they’re quite reasonable. Take some time, read it over, let me know what you think.” Idalia waited for Evangeline to take the parchment before standing to leave, heading far enough away to remain in sight, but out of earshot.

Despite their less than amicable beginning, Idalia’s word was true: the terms of her proposed pact were quite reasonable. In exchange for Evangeline’s placement with a suitable family, she would help Idalia in her future endeavors. While the wording wasn’t necessarily too specific, Evangeline could tell it was written with pure intentions… she hoped. Either way, taking this deal seemed infinitely better than her current reality of hopelessly wandering the forests and scrounging up scraps that barely constitute a meal for a small child, let alone a growing preteen. She took one last glance at the small, looping handwriting before walking over to Idalia and gently tapping her on the shoulder.

“I’ll sign,” Evangeline murmured, avoiding making direct eye contact with her soon-to-be patron. She shifted slightly on her feet, trying to distract from the significance of the situation. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Idalia asked, lowering herself to better be on face-level. “I am not going to force you into anything you do not want to do. You are welcome to tell me no.” Smiling slightly, Evangeline grabbed the pen from Idalia’s hand and signed her name, hands shaking at a steady rhythm. “I’m sure. I want this.”

#dnd #writeblr #my writing #noven #wisteriawrites #evangeline friloux #she’s just a girl in a blender #dnd character #dnd5e #dnd writing #dnd oc #szereban webber family

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