#Trent Ikithon is a dick

[helimir]

funniest person/item to be released from magical prison go

[nanierose]

One week you think Ludinus D'aleth is the biggest dick in Exandria, the next Trent Ikithon comes in with a burning farmhouse to remind you why you hate him so much.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

The Volstrucker and I

Chapter One: My Lord and Master

Summary: Hoping to infiltrate the kingdom of the Menagerie Coast, Trent Ikithon sends Volstrucker Bren Ermundrud as a gift to Queen Marion and her daughter Jester. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to figure out how to break Volstrucker programming, Marion places him as Princess Jester's guard.

.......................................................................................................

The kingdom of the Menagerie Coast was small, sandwiched between the ocean and a long stretch of forest that blocked them from the Empire. The war between the Empire and the Dynasty had been waging for as long as Jester could remember, but thankfully it had yet to reach Nicodranas despite numerous attempts from the Bright Queen and the Assembly to pull them into the fray.

Princess Jester Lavorre had a bad habit of doodling dicks on nearly every single letter sent to her mother about the war. Most of them she stole from the queen’s office, a few Marion gave her with a smile, telling her to do whatever she wanted with them. There were perks to being the daughter of a queen if the box of missives with crude drawings all over them was anything to go by. 

But there were also…well lots of drawbacks. It was those Jester pondered as she woke up just as the sunlight was creeping over the horizon. Far too early for anyone to be awake, in her opinion. 

She groaned loudly and buried her face into her pillow as hard as she could. The sunlight splashed her bedroom with pinks and blues which she would usually love to admire if it didn’t mean she was waking up at an ungodly hour of the morning. Usually she wouldn’t be up this early, no matter how many times her mother’s advisors berated her. 

But today was a special day; she and her mother were welcoming a delegation from the Empire, the first in many years. Jester knew that her mother had high hopes that this meeting would keep the tensions at bay for a little while longer, at least until a treaty could be reached that would keep Nicodranas a neutral party in the conflict. Which meant that Jester had to get up ridiculously early in order to get breakfast and get dressed before they arrived. 

She allowed herself just a few minutes to try to wake up in the comfort of her warm bed. Unfortunately, before long there came a gentle knock on her door and it swung in, revealing her mother. 

Queen Marion was already done up and ready for the day. She was wearing a deep purple dress with gold embellishments and her circlet was fastened around her head, makeup perfectly done. 

Marion chuckled, “It’s time to get up, my sapphire. We need to get you ready.” Jester groaned and burrowed down under her blankets, curling up into a ball. Marion laughed again, a bright and musical sound. Jester felt the bed dip as her mother sat down, a hand touched her side gently, “Come on, my love, I have doughnuts waiting for you and I’ll do your hair for you.” 

Jester was used to her mother’s bribery at this point, but the offer still made her smile and sit up out of her blanket cocoon. Marion smiled warmly at the sight of her daughter, her face fresh from sleep, but her hair all tangled and knotted around her horns. 

Marion took Jester’s face in her hands with a playful gasp, “There’s my daughter! I had almost forgotten what you looked like.” 

Jester rolled her eyes, but laughed as she hugged her mother tightly, letting Marion stroke her hair for a long moment. There was a tension in her mother that she wasn't used to feeling, making her pull back and look at her. “Are you nervous, mama?”

Marion sighed, starting to untangle the knots around Jester’s horns, “Don’t tell anyone, but I am. Mostly about having you there with me.” 

For the entirety of her childhood, Jester was the kingdom’s best kept secret. Fearing an attack or kidnapping, Marion made sure that Jester’s existence was kept secret within the castle walls. When she became a teenager, her existence was announced and shewa finally allowed to venture beyond the castle walls and to accompany her mother to events and appearances. And due to her rank and status, Jester was required to be at the meeting today.

“Bluud is gonna be there,” Jester assured her. “And Yasha and Beau. I’ll be fine.”

Marion sighed and pushed Jester’s hair out of her face, “I know, I just worry about you. It’s what mothers do.” Marion kissed her forehead. “Now come on, you’ve distracted me quite enough and it’s time to get ready.”

Jester groaned, flopping back onto her bed as her mother laughed.

The throne room was an imposing sight. Three stone steps lead to the massive limestone throne with seashells and rubies inlaid. Marion sat on the throne, her ankles elegantly crossed and her hands folded in her lap. Half a dozen Zhelezo line each wall with Bluud, Beau, and Yasha behind the throne. 

While they waited for their party to arrive, Jester talked quietly with Beau and Yasha, trying to pry gossip out of them. Beau was a hard nut to crack, but it only took a few prying questions before Yasha whispered something that made all three girls laugh. Bluud sighed and nudged Jester away from the knights, back towards her mother. With a dramatic pout, Jester followed the instruction and went to stand beside her mother’s throne.

A footman entered the room but a moment later, giving Marion a bow, “Your majesty, they’re here.”

Marion took a deep breath, reaching up to squeeze Jester’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. “Bring them in.”

The footman bowed again, disappearing back into the hall. Anxiety started to press against Jester’s lungs, her heart fluttering and her hand growing sweaty. Jester had never met anyone from the Empire, except for Beau. She had no idea what to expect from the convoy. As the doors opened again, she felt Bluud move slightly closer to her and her mom.

The first man to enter was tall, clearly human and far older than Jester had ever seen. He had long hair and wrinkles on his face, but none around his eyes. He looked terrifying in his red robe with gold embellishments with the symbol of the Cerberus Assembly on his collar. He radiated an aura of malice, even from the distance he was at. Jester inched a bit closer to her mother. 

Entering behind him was a younger man. Jester could immediately tell he was a soldier by the way he carried himself. His hair was a deep red, pulled away from his face in a low ponytail. His face was even, almost looking like he was made of stone. He kept his eyes respectfully down as he took his place beside the mage. Both of the men knelt respectfully before Marion and Jester. 

“Archmage Ikithon,” Marion acknowledged with a slight dip of her head. “I’ve heard much about you.” 

“And I you, your majesty,” Ikithon said as he rose, the soldier following after him. “As you know, I come as a delegation from the Empire. For months now we have sought to improve our relationship with the Menagerie Coast to no avail.”

“I am aware. I have gotten your colleagues’...many letters. As I’m sure you have gotten mine. As I’ve told both the Assembly, the king, and the Bright Queen, the Menagerie Coast will remain impartial in your conflict. We are an isolated nation and we wish to stay that way.”

Ikithon put a hand to his chest and bowed, “Forgive me if I have implied otherwise, your majesty. It is because of those exchanges that my king sent me here. We wish to repair the relationship between our countries. Seeing as you are so isolated, it would be easy for someone to intercept the trade of goods between the Dynasty, the Empire, and you. We don’t want that to happen, now do we?”

A threat if Jester had ever heard one. Agree or we’ll cut off your resources. But Marion didn't seem phased. “I am well aware of the…delicate nature of our treaty. Which is why I have been striving to get a new one passed to make sure that that can’t happen, archmage.”

“And my colleagues and I are more than receptive to such a treaty. We all know those things take time, your majesty. But in the meantime, it was my hope that a gift would do wonders to soften any tensions and it would show good faith for the upcoming negotiations.”

Marion inclined her head ever so slightly, “A gift?”

Archmage Ikithon stepped aside and raised a hand towards the man behind him who stepped forward obediently, still keeping his head down. “Allow me to introduce one of the best Volstruckers in the Empire. I offer him as a gift to you and your nation, perhaps a dutiful guard for your daughter.” 

Jester felt as though she couldn't breathe and a glance down at her mother showed her the same surprise. How could this man be a gift? And why did he look so accepting of it? Jester expected her mother to say no, to make the man and his soldier leave, but instead she schooled her face into a perfect smile. 

“What a thoughtful gift, my daughter is well known for evading her guards, I’m sure one as well trained as your Volstruckers will prove quite the challenge for her.” 

Ikithon chuckled, smiling just a bit too much, “I’m sure he would. I will leave you, I’m sure we’ll see each other very soon at dinner, your majesty.” 

“Of course,” Marion bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you for such a kind gift, archmage.” 

Ikithon gave her a bow and turned heel, leaving as quickly as he arrived, the Volstrucker remaining behind. As soon as the doors were shut behind him, Marion stood from her throne and in Infernal said to the guards, “Watch him. Jester, come with me.” 

Marion put a hand on Jester’s back and steered her through the back door of the room, the mother and daughter entering the small hallway. As the door shut behind them, Jester turned around and looked at her mom accusingly.

“Mama,” Jester hissed, “why did you take him? He’s a person!” 

“I know, my love,” Marion soothed Jester quickly. “I know. Archmage Ikithon is a despicable man, he trains these volstruckers through torture, ingrains his programming in them so deep that they don’t remember a life where they weren’t obedient to their masters. They’re known to be ruthless in every sense of the word. By letting him here, we’re inviting an Empire spy into our home.” 

“Then why-”

“Because,” Marion touched Jester’s cheek gently, “he’s someone’s son. He’s a boy who has been indoctrinated to hurt others. And because the archmage has unknowingly handed us the perfect opportunity to try to figure out how to break Volstrucker programming.” 

“So you’re going to keep him in a cell?”

Marion shook her head with a slight laugh, “I’m going to do as the archmage suggested. He is to be your guard, you don’t know much of anything about the policies of our government but it would still give him something to report to his master about.” As she said it, Jester knew her mother was filled with fear. Marion had tried so hard to protect Jester her whole life, to put her in danger like this must be incredibly hard for her.

“But is it safe? He’s like a serial killer or something, right?” Jester asked.

“You won’t ever be alone with him,” Marion assured her. “He’ll be your guard during the day, not the night. What I want you to do, my sapphire, is to be yourself. Be silly and kind and annoying. But if you ever suspect that he intends to harm you, you find a guard, you find me, and he’ll be killed where he stands.”

The dark protectiveness in her mother’s eyes comforted Jester an enormous amount as she ducked into her mother’s arms and hugged her. Marion sighed softly and returned the embrace, one hand on the back of her head. They stood like that in the dark hallway for a long moment before Marion kissed Jester’s forehead. 

“Shall we go meet your new guard?”

Jester nodded, taking a deep breath as she steels herself. She wanted more than anything to hold her mama’s hand as they returned into the throne room, but she knew she needed to keep up her appearance as a princess.

As they passed Yasha and Beau, both of them shot the princess a questioning look. Jester just swallowed thickly and gave them a shaky smile, letting her know that for right now everything was okay. 

Marion and Jester approached the soldier, still standing at attention in the middle of the room, eyed on the floor. Jester fell slightly behind her mother as they stood before him.

Marion smiled kindly at him, “What is your name, child?”

“It can be whatever you wish it to be, your majesty.” His voice was accented, the same one as the archmage, but softer and gentle.

“Mama…” Jester breathed, her stomach growing sick at that answer. As a tiefling, they knew better than anyone the power that names have. For someone to just give up their identity like that…it made Jester feel queasy.

Marion reached back and squeezed her hand comfortingly, “I want your name to be whatever you feel the most comfortable being called.” The man looked surprised at the response, lifting his eyes to meet Marion’s for the first time. 

He took a second to think before saying, “Caleb.”

Marion smiled, “It is very nice to meet you, Caleb. My name is Marion and this is my daughter, Jester.” 

Jester stepped forwards and smiled, sticking her hand out towards him, “Hi!” 

Once again, Caleb looked surprised, but he shook her hand, “It’s a pleasure, your highness.”

Marion brought her hand to Jester’s shoulder, “Caleb, while you are here, you are my Jester’s guard. I expect you to be her dutiful protector while you are by her side.” 

Caleb bowed deeply, “Of course, your majesty, it would be a great honor.”

Marion smiled, “I’ll have someone show you to your quarters and go through our protocols. With your training, I’m sure picking everything up would be no problem. Do you think you’ll be able to start tomorrow?”

“Certainly, your majesty.” Caleb bowed to her and Jester again. “I will do my very best.”

“I’m sure you will,” Marion smiled kindly. She looked at Jester and squeezed her shoulder. With that, the two women left, quickly followed by their three guards. The volstrucker remained behind, his hands shaking ever so slightly. 

The guard barracks were much different than Bren…Caleb had been expecting. The hallways were tiled blue and green, the walls decorated with art. Each door had a plaque with the names of the guards who reside there. Some had children’s drawings stuck to them, others had scratched out notes or reminders.

Caleb was taken to a room near the end of a long hallway. He could see the tactics, in order to leave, he would have to pass the rooms of every other guard. When he opened the door, he found a single bed. Unlike the other rooms, he was the only one sleeping here. 

He would not be surprised to find a lock on the other side of the door, possibly arcane wards too. Unlike his mentor, Caleb knew better than to underestimate the Menagerie Coast. As peaceful a nation as they appeared, Caleb was taught that there were always thorns on roses. 

Caleb’s quarters were small, but far bigger than they were in Rexxentrum. The floor was stone, the walls plaster and boards. Caleb set his small bag on the dresser. He had very few belongings, just his uniform, spellbook, socks, underwear, extra parchment and ink, and a sending stone. 

Straightening his posture without thinking about it, Caleb squeezed the stone and slowly said, “Volstrucker Ermundrud reporting. I have been assigned as the princess’s guard. I have been briefed on the safety protocols, they are as follows…”

As Caleb flawlessly repeated all of the protocols he was told earlier, he reminded his master that he might have been given false information as a precaution.  

When he was finished, all that came back was his master’s voice, “Good work, Bren.” 

The stone fell silent. Caleb tucked it inside one of his socks and put it back in the drawer. He changed out of his uniform before tucking himself into his bed, hands folded neatly on his chest.

But sleep didn't find him. His mind spun itself in circles, remembering in vivid details the instructions he was given, repeating them in a comforting pattern.

Get close to the royal family. Find information. Report back. Wait for instructions. Kill the queen and princess.

Get close. Find. Report. Wait. Kill.

The instructions that gave him comfort and finally allowed him to fall into a dreamless sleep.

[whumpwizard]

Whumptber2022 Day 23: At the End of Their Rope (18+)

Bren had failed, he knew that. He should have been better, should have done better.  But he had slipped, and it had almost cost him and the other two their mission, and Astrid and Wulf had had to clean up the mess. But, it was fine. It was fine, because he was serving his penance.

Above him, he could hear the clinking of cutlery against plates, and the gentle dinner conversation of his Master and his fellow Volstrucker.  His own stomach growled with hunger, but that was not the most pressing pain in his body.  No, far more present in is mind was the pain of the tightly ties hemp rope that dug into his skin. He was tied below the dinner table, arms bound behind him in a reverse prayer position, wrenching his arms against their natural position. Then, Trent had bound his legs in a kneeling position with his legs spread apart, before firmly tying off the ends to the legs of the table. The arm and chest bindings, too, were tied off to the table, leaving Bren unable to so much as struggle in the bonds.

Dinner continued with no regard paid to the wizard beneath the table.  They chatted about classes, and about the mission, and about the food. They ate and drank, and not for a moment did they address him.  Of course they didn’t, he didn’t deserve it. He deserved only this pain, the aching in his joints and the numbing of his hands and feet, the painful tingling when he tried to adjust and move them.  If he had been better, then he would have deserved their company. But he hadn’t been, and so this was his penance.

Master Ikithon was a good man.  A strong man, committed to the betterment of the Empire, and it was Bren’s job to serve that ideal.  He had failed. He had hesitated and the mark had nearly escaped. How ironic then, that he could not escape this. That the bonds that held him in penitent suffering were so tightly wound.  It was fitting.

“Ah, well, it is time that I turn in.” Trent’s voice echoed above the table, the tone of dismissal clear. “Do as you wish with him, but do not unbind him.”

“Yes, Master.” Wulf and Astrid replied in unison. Bren felt his heart skip a beat, knowing that he was the one being spoken about.  He watched as Trent walked away, paying no mind to Bren as he left.  Then, slowly, he heard Astrid and Wulf’s careful steps as they approached him, standing in front of him.

“You really fucked that one, Bren.” Wulf said, his face hard, unreadable. Was he angry? Did he pity Bren? All three of them had suffered in a hundred ways for their sins under Trent, so there was at least a shred of empathy, surely.

“If he had escaped, that man would have spilled valuable state secrets. It was your job to hold him. What happened?”  Astrid asked, her tone accusatory, not unlike Trent’s.  Bren just lowered his head, ashamed.

“I do not know.” he said.  He felt the hand in his hair for a fraction of a moment before his head was yanked back up, a yelp escaping as Wulf forced Bren to look at him.

“You don’t know? If we hadn’t saved your ass we’d all be tied up and starved, Bren. And then he would’ve won. Is that what you want?”

“N-no! I didn’t…I don’t know what happened.  I…I will atone, though.”  Bren’s eyes widened as he saw Wulf start to undo the belt of his trousers, other hand never releasing the ginger hair in its clutches.

“Ja, you will.” He said, pulling out his cock, already hard. “I’m so fucking pent up from the stress of today. You’re gonna fix that.” There was no preamble as Wulf tilted Bren’s head back and forced his cock into his mouth.  Astrid just rolled her eyes.

“You are a fucking pig some days, Eadwulf.” she said. “I am going to bed.”  And she walked away, leaving Bren alone.

Wulf was rough as he fucked Bren’s throat, making him choke as he took the whole length of his friend’s cock. He hated to admit it, but he wasn’t exactly upset with how Wulf had chosen to use him. It wasn’t his first night on his knees for either of them, and if making his throat burn from sucking dick is was he had to do to make up for his missteps? It was certainly better than some of Trent’s plans.  Still, bound to the table as he was, the pain and discomfort remained in the forefront of his brain. Tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes as Wulf used him, from the lack of air mixed with the pain.  Bren knew he must look like some two-copper whore right now.

Wulf did not take his time in making use of Bren’s throat, and it wasn’t long before his thrusts became more erratic, and his grip on Bren’s hair became vice-like.  At the last moment, he pulled his cock out of Bren’s throat, and with a couple short strokes, came, spilling onto Bren’s face and chest.  He smiled, smug and proud of what he had done, looking down upon his fellow Scourger. Bren could feel his lips wet and swollen, the tear tracks down his face, and the hot, sticky cum that would sit on him until someone came to clean it off or release him. He looked up at Wulf, eyes wide. All he got in return was a light slap on the cheek.

“Guten nacht, Bren.” Wulf said, finally taking his leave as well.  Bren remained, as the candles burned themselves out, bound and sore and covered in cum. The night air was cold, and the darkness cloying, but Bren knew that this was truly what he deserved.

[analisegrey]

Februwhump Prompt!

“Where are you?” (Read on AO3)

Warnings: spoilers for C2:e49- Game of Names, spoilers for Caleb’s backstory, teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, manipulation, child abuse/neglect, Trent Ikithon (he’s his own warning), also my sincerest apologies to Mr. Tolkien.

Day 1

Trent’s voice in his mind is as cool and clear as ever, the distance doing nothing to interfere with the clarity of his Sending spell. “You will return to the estate at precisely six pm on whichever day you return. If you come back too early or too late the-” There’s a brief pause, and then, “-exercise will reset. If you don't return, I will assume you were not strong enough. Am I clear?”

Bren is still groggy, his head aching from whatever Trent had done to knock him out and bring him here, but he doesn’t keep his instructor waiting. “Yes sir.”

There’s no response, but he doesn’t expect one.

He’s known for awhile that even among the three of them, Trent has been singling him out for extra training, running him through mental exercises Astrid and Eodwulf are excused from; it’s only fitting for the boy who will become their team leader one day.

He’s not sure where he is beyond ‘in the woods’. He takes stock of what Trent has left him with- basic clothes, a hunting knife, one healing potion. He has no components with him, but that’s not really an issue; his preferred spells use mostly verbal and somatic components, so it could be worse. If it were Astrid or Eodwulf out here, they might have more of a problem.

He looks around, taking in his surroundings. There’s the quiet sounds of the woods- the rustling of the wind through leaves, the musical call of birds (finch, robin, bluejay, cardinal), and from somewhere close, the burble of water.

It’s not that late, he thinks, just past midday if the position of the sun is any indication. If he can figure out where he is, and what direction the estate might be in, he can conceivably finish this exercise today and have a late dinner with Astrid and Eodwulf. No problem.

So, first things first, he thinks, where are you?

He climbs a tree with little difficulty, the bark rough against his hands as he climbs. It’s been a few years since he had the time and inclination to climb a tree, but it’s a skill that comes back quickly. When he’s high enough up, he gets a look at his surroundings, and a better look at the sun’s position. He’s got a decent idea of where north is, and therefore where the estate might be. He’s seen maps of the area in Trent’s study, knows where the woods are in relation to the house, and thinks he remembers the path of the stream he heard before; with that added confidence he shimmies back down the tree and heads out.

He’s feeling pretty good about things until he gets to the front gate of the estate and Trent is waiting, arms crossed over his chest with a frown of blatant disapproval. “I specified a time, Bren. What did I say?”

“Six pm, sir.”

“And what time is it now?”

Bren pauses, glancing up at the sun. He’d thought he was pretty close, time-wise, but maybe not as close as he’d thought. He hazards a guess, “Five-thirty?”

Trent’s frown deepens, and it’s all Bren can do to keep himself from taking a reflexive step back.

“No, that is incorrect.” Trent’s words are cold and clipped, and Bren’s stomach twists in shame. “I am training you to become a powerful mage, Bren; not just a war mage to help protect the Empire, but the leader of your squad. That is a position that will require specificity and precision. You can’t just guess.” Trent's lip curls in disgust as he moves forward, and Bren straightens, shoulders back, forcing himself to maintain eye contact when what he wants most is to just sink into the ground and disappear. “A wizard of the level I am training you to be is neither early nor late. They arrive precisely when they mean to. You will do the exercise again.”

Trent puts a hand on Bren’s shoulder, and the world twists and warps around him, then abruptly goes dark.

Day 3

The easy confidence Bren had on day one has long since left him. He’s gotten better at finding directions without having to climb up a tree which is good; Trent has been leaving him further and further from the estate since the first day, always in a different location than the days before. When he wakes up the third day, he finds the healing potion he’d used the second day hasn’t been replenished.

“Perhaps you will learn be more mindful of both yourself and your resources. The exercise starts now.”

The day before he’d fallen down a steep incline he hadn't seen when the light had started to fade under the tree canopy, and hurt his leg. At the time, he’d thought it was an obvious need, but maybe he’d been wrong. He wonders now if he should have waited, should have tried walking on it. It’s possible it was only badly strained, and not actually broken, but it’s too late to worry about it now. He’ll just have to be more careful.

He locates the stream again and drinks his fill, letting the water take away the edge of hunger. He hasn’t been able to catch anything useable since the exercise started; he’d spotted a small rabbit the day before, and without thinking had tossed a Firebolt at it. His aim had been true, but it has practically incinerated the creature, rendering it useless. He’ll need to figure out something to eat, and soon, but he knows from his studies how long a person can actually go without food so long as they have water. He knows that while this is uncomfortable, and will eventually have negative effects, he isn’t in immediate danger.

He keeps a close eye on the position of the sun, tracking it’s path through the sky in his head from when he woke up, doing his best to gauge how long until sundown. The first day he’d been too early. Yesterday he’d been too late. He thinks he’s got a better grasp on it this go round, his sense of time improving.

When he arrives at the gate, Trent doesn’t even address him before stalking forward, his dismay evident in his expression. He clamps a hand down on Bren’s shoulder with bruising force, mutters a word, gestures with his other hand, and sends Bren off again.

The exercise restarts.

Day 6

Things are not going as well.

He’d gotten turned around somehow the day before, following the stream in the wrong direction for long enough that by the time he’d realized his error, he knew that there was no way he’d get back to the estate before dark. He’d spent the night up in a tree, far too tense for sleep, waiting in the cool night air for sunrise.

The morning dawns overcast and gray, and soon it’s raining, which is doing nothing to improve Bren’s mood. He’s cold, wet, and hungry, his irritation with the whole situation, with himself, a low-burning fire in his gut. He wants the exercise to be over and done with, to be inside, somewhere dry and warm, to have the company of his friends, his teammates. He takes a deep breath, centers himself, thinks about why he’s doing this. He needs to become strong, to be the leader that Trent thinks he can be. Trent wouldn’t have sent him out here if he didn’t think Bren was up to the task.

He’s so deep in his own head he doesn’t hear the movement in the bushes nearby until it’s too late. A sharp squeal rends the air, startling him from his thoughts, and something crashes from the underbrush, slamming into him at hip height. It knocks him sideways and to the ground, and the creature is on him almost immediately. Something sharp digs along the outside of his thigh, pulling a scream from him, but his training kicks in and he gets his hands up, thumbs hooked, a blast of fire shooting out as he casts. The beast tries to get out of the way, but isn’t quick enough, and the cone of flame catches it along one side, eliciting a pained noise. It rounds on him and he has a second to recognize it as a wild boar, though thankfully not a full-grown one, before it's charging again. He rolls at the last moment, evading the tusks it’s aimed at him. He gets up to his feet, though his injured leg threatens to give, and the forest around them goes still, the two of them just watching each other for a long, frozen moment. Then the boar charges again, and Bren unleashes the fire a second time, hitting it head-on. It drops, but its momentum carries its still-burning carcass through the mud a few feet toward him.

He has his hands up, still shaking as he gasps for breath, and he waits a moment to be certain it’s dead before he lowers his arms and moves toward it. The rain has put out most of the remaining flames, and he drops to his knees next to it. The outer layer of hide and bristle is burned, charred-through, and the scent of roast pig makes his stomach twist and pang. He has his knife out and digging into it before he can stop himself, tearing aside the skin to get to the cooked-through layers of flesh closest to the surface. There’s a part of his mind that worries this is a bad idea, that the pig as a whole isn’t cooked enough, that it will make him sick. That part of him is quickly subsumed by the rest of him which is starving and hasn’t eaten anything other than berries and roots in days.

By the time he stops, his belly is full, and he feels a bit queasy from all the blood, but it’s preferable to the yawning emptiness he’s been dealing with. He forces himself to get up, knowing that the smell of cooked meat and blood will draw attention from predators. He also knows that this boar wasn’t anywhere near full-grown, and there might be other ones, bigger ones, nearby, which he has no interest in tangling with. He wipes his knife off against the grass and tears off strips of his shirt to bandage the gash in the side of his leg before he gets moving.

It’s nearing dusk when he arrives back at the estate, and Trent is once again waiting for him, mouth pressed into a pale, turned-down line. “Bren, it is not-”

A flash of something, a sudden burst of stupidity, irritation, and brashness comes bubbling up out of him, and he does something he’s never dared before- he interrupts Trent.

“No, sir, it is not six pm. It is five fifty-five, but I am here precisely when I mean to be.”

Trent blinks at him, one elegant eyebrow arched in surprise as he takes in the soaking wet, blood-stained teen shivering yet standing tall before him. He takes in the sight, and after a moment in which Bren is convinced he’s about to be struck down or sent away, Trent smiles.

“Well done, Bren.” Trent stands to the side of the gate and gestures toward the house. “Come along. We’ll see to your injuries, and you can tell me about what you've learned during the exercise.”

Pride swells up on a wave of warmth in Bren’s chest, and everything he’s gone through in the past week- the exhaustion, the deprivation, the injuries and self-doubt- all of it has been worth it for this moment of praise, for knowing that- at least this once- he’s managed to live up to Trent’s high expectations.

Schooling his features to careful neutrality, he holds his head high, and steps through the gate.

[louloutche]

Yasha: I put my boot on his junk, because I do not like how he talked to me the first time we met.

Well, you know what they say, Trent... Revenge is a dish best served cold.

[sparring-spirals]

me, before this episode: narratively there is a loveliness to calebs arc not being hinged on vengeance. :) it would be nice to have ikithon wrapped up but also caleb shouldn't have to kill him in order for us to appreciate his growth and journey as a character-

me, the moment trents voice appeared: lets ! kill! an ikithot!!! lets go!!! lets rip his head off!!! lets turn him into one third of a bloody snowman!!!! lets rend him in half!!! murder time babie!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EGG DICK THAT WIZARD

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[the-punslinger]

Critical Role Quotes and Memorable Moments - Campaign 2 (114/?)

Veth: "Bonus action, will cast Brenatto's Voltaic Bolt at 3rd-level and charge up the bolt. Not going to use it yet, though. Instead, I don't know what they look like, but I imagine a silhouette I can figure out. So with the burning house behind Caleb, I'm going to have the silhouettes of what I imagine his mother and father to sort of look like, appear flanking him and just sort of pointing, pointing at Trent Ikithon." Travis: " Wow." Sam: "With Silent Image." Matt: "Okay. Okay." Liam: "Got me."

Matt: "As you [Caleb] have your hands on the device [Anti-mage collar], a second set of hands comes and pushes yours aside as Astrid begins to bend down. [rolls] Natural 16 plus eight. The side that you're holding, she glances over and finds one trigger that had come loose. She presses it back into place. Squeezes your hand and at once, you hit both sides of the red gem that you had embedded as the power source [makes buzzing sounds] flickers on with a buzz." Beau: "Watch your fingers." Matt: "And Trent suddenly goes like [choking noises]." Caleb [to Astrid]: "You were always better at solving problems than I was."

Caduceus: "And Clay who has been casting a spell for the last minute turns around with deep black pit eyes: 'The Matron has special destinations for people who burn temples. So why don't you put your back into this?' And I go back to having conjured a couatl to putting out the fucking fire." Eadwulf: "Mm! Fair enough." Matt: "He goes 'Mm, right.' And he begins to... what can he do?" Fjord: "'What can you do, Eadwulf?' I Control Water from the pond. 'Look what I'm doing.'"

Matt: "He looks at that, looks over at you. 'Do you have a bucket?'" Caduceus: "If they're still working, yes." Matt: "He shields himself and darts into the house which is now maybe about a third of its exterior covers in flames."

Fjord: "I'll turn and at 5th-level, I'm going to cast Create Water in a 30-foot cube above Caduceus' house, that just creates a 50 gallon torrential rain above it. And I'm going to say: 'Jester, will you come over here?'" Jester: "Oh, yeah... Oh, his hair was so gross, Fjord. [gags] Yeah, what can I do?" Fjord: "Standing in the rain, I turn to her and I say 'I love you too.' Then I kiss her." Jester: "I make sure my hands are not touching him, but I kiss him back."

Caduceus: "I have decided to take this thing that you have done to me and my family as a opportunity to teach a lesson. I don't know if you can truly understand what I'm feeling right now, if you have the imagination for how much hurt this is. But I would like you to empathize with me, and I cast Command. 'Empathize!'" Travis: "One word." Liam: "Wow." Jester: "Feel it all." Matt: "He just smiles back." Caduceus: "'Empathize!' Command again." Marisha: "Wow, I've never seen Caduceus this pissed." Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "Just keeps grinning back at you..." Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "How many spell slots do you have left?" Taliesin: "Let's see. That's a good question." Sam: "Day 13." Matt: "That's four 1st-level spells at least you cast. Succeeds on that one, too." Caduceus: "One, two, three, four...Empathize!" Matt: "Okay, he succeeds." Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "Succeeds, natural 20." Caduceus: "I'll keep going." Fjord: "I put my hand on Caduceus' shoulder, and at 5th-level, I cast Command and say 'Empathize!'" Matt: "So what's the 5th-level one do now?" Travis: "The 5th-level save's 18." Laura: "Just again, another one. Just a higher level." Matt: "Natural 20, saves again." Beau: "He is a sick fuck." Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "Saves." Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "No, he succeeds." Travis: "You got to respect it, it's pretty good." Sam: " He's a dick." Liam: "Yeah, he's a piece of shit." Matt: "He succeeds." Marisha: "He's a piece of shit. Wow!" Caduceus: "Empathize!" Matt: "He's got a high..." Travis: "Energize!" Caduceus: "As he slowly falls asleep, I just want him to hear 'Well, don't worry, we can try again tomorrow.'"

[grayintogreen]

Critical Role Fic Masterlist [August 1st-August 31st]

WOOF. What a month. Not an exceptionally great one for Ye Olde Depression, but I guess I went the Hemmingway in dealing with it. I found a neat word tracking app, but I only started it midway through the month, but just from HALF the month, I racked up 50k+ words. ...Yeah.

Anyway! For the record, I’m separating out the flashfic featured in paper moon and tinsel stars here on my masterlist for ease of access for people who might only want to read specific ships/characters, since the anthology is, uh, poorly organized. I like titles. It’s a thing.

This was also the month of the Tombtaker Hostage Situation and 90% of my bad things happen bingo prompts. I’m doing Whumptober next month so maybe I’ll cool it on the dark stuff in September (probably not).

LET’S GET TO IT, SHALL WE?

SHIPPY FICS

Creecien (Cree/Lucien)

and the heat only goes where you tell it to go. (E, MIND THE TAGS, 4955 words). The Mighty Nein fail to beat the Tombtakers to Cognouza. It still doesn’t really go well for them. Also monsterfucking. But seriously, mind the tags. It’s dark.

he’ll never know how much you’ve done. (T, 2896 words). Cree and Lucien, pre-canon. Getting your wounds tended because you used Life Transference on your stupid asshole crush and he is an oblivious dick.

this story’s yours and this story’s mine. (G, 2679 words). Tinytakers!! Baby Cree has some deep-rooted psychological issues. Lucien is Lucien even at thirteen. 

and i shall give you sparks that blaze as hot as any fire. (E, 3686 words) ‘Tis the month of Creecien smut. (No really). Cree’s wavering in the wake of the other Tombtakers’ deaths so Lucien bangs her in front of the Immensus Gate. WITH RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM.

i need to touch a holy place. (E, 3546 words). I TOLD YOU. This is the missing sex scene from this church takes no conversions. I don’t know who the target audience for this is. I guess it’s me.

Widomauk (Mollymauk/Caleb)

i have been the source of all the troubles we have known. (T, 3508 words). Molly comes back after the fight with Lucien and he’s not okay. At all. 

and he’ll laugh when your troubles are gone. (G, 2613 words). Caleb and Molly go to a flea market. IT’S JUST SHAMELESS FLUFF. I CAN WRITE THAT SOMETIMES.

Lucigast (Lucien/Caleb)

guard your eggshell heart. (T, 1910 words). Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Scourgers get the jump on the Tombtakers and Lucien is none too pleased about it.

in the dreaming trees. (T, 2469 words) Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Caleb accidentally dreamshares in the Tombtaker Discord Chat and things escalate. You may see this one again, because I promised the porn continuation at some point. And I keep my promises.

the scourge of cabin boys and kings. (T, 2856 words) Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Caleb and Lucien discuss scars. And Lucien cannot get this damn wizard under his thumb.

Other Ships

spread your wings and show me quick. (G, 744 words) Astrid/Jester. Jester teaches Astrid how to ice skate.

mad science love song. (G, 808 words ) Yeza/Essek. Yeza asks for Essek’s help tinkering. Trust ensues.

GEN FICS

wounded in an accidental war. (T, 1348 words). Beau gets injured by Molly due to a wayward Charm Person. Bonding, guilt, and wound care ensues.

and the choir sings hallelujah to a god i will not observe. (T, 1999 words). Yasha gets left behind on Cognouza to deal with Lucien alone until the Mighty Nein can save her. Turns out she’s more than capable of ruining his day alone. (CW: Self-harm, ritual bloodletting)

by the flicker of their fire. (T, 1737 words) Another part of my TOTALLY ACCIDENTAL “Tombtaker Hostage Situation” series I ended up writing this month. Caleb gets left behind in 123. He’s a very disagreeable hostage.

what the promised land would promise me. (T, 3169 words). The Intuit Charge massacre from the Tombtakers’ perspective.

too rough for the soft way. (T, 2656 words). Beau and Lucien get snowed in and “bond.” Kinda.

but we’re so much more than that old, bitter law. (T, 1721 words). The Empire Siblings deal with the consequences of fighting power and oppression, but at least they have each other.

even the sky bleeds twilight. (T, 1927 words). In which Lucien murders Vess DeRogna. That’s it. That’s the fic.

against the devil’s own roulette. (T, 2860 words). Brand of Castigation is a bitch and now it’s Fjord’s turn for a Tombtaker Hostage Situation(TM). Good thing he’s good at honeypots. Kinda.

a generation sacrificed in self-defense. (T, 3230 words). Astrid asks Caleb and Beau to facilitate her taking back the night on Trent Ikithon without murdering him. Cue the torturerer getting a little bit of torture right back. And Astrid invents a new spell! Yay! (Yay?)

every moment changes lifetimes (even moments we regret). (T, 789 words). That moment at the T-Dock was not the first time Caleb had to make the same difficult choice.

this is a song of fingers pointing, casting shame. (T, 2827 words) Beau makes friends with Astrid and Eadwulf. They have a lot in common, after all.

the coyotes know her name. (T, 2561 words). Jester gets a successful divine intervention. Artagan uses it as an excuse to cause problems on purpose.

bind me, break me, can you take me (T, 2456 words). Beau gets left behind with the Tombtakers and discovers an unexpected ally. 

you’re my canvas (better yet, dear, you’re my muse) (T, 1616 words) Beau and Molly get high in the Blooming Grove and Molly finds out about her tattoo.

trickster’s silken ribbon. (G, 901 words). Fearne meets Artagan as she enters the Material Plane for the first time.

we keep our tribal secrets and we recognize our own. (G, 922 words) Threeleaf AU. Caduceus observes a sibling brawl between the Threeleafs.

close your eyes and let me in. (G, 1194 words) Set in the Doppelganger’s Song universe. Molly convinces Lucien to let him braid his hair.

if you would curry my favor. (G, 735 words) Threeleaf AU. Molly and Kingsley attempt to get their brother a date because he is the worst.

so this is what i’ve known of love (G, 707 words) Caduceus embraces the chaos of his two families meeting... within reason.

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

okay also can we talk about the dragging de-magicked, glued dick hands archmage Trent Ikithon to the headquarters of his enemies the Cobalt Soul not only in disgrace but in a giant wicker basket

[flashhwing]

thinking about how the last time trent tried to get in caleb’s head after the sanatorium caleb basically responded with “sorry don’t have time for you, you’re a side quest right now”

and then the mighty nein travel to the astral sea, discover time travel, fight a pseudo-god on a screaming city, spit in the face of fate itself ...

and come home and trent is there. demanding a fight. and they defeat him in less than a minute, glue his hands together permanently with a dick, make it so he can never cast a spell or even speak again ...

just. the moment trent ikithon must’ve realized he really did have no power over caleb. the moment he must’ve realized “damn. I really was a side quest, huh”

[c-is-for-circinate]

Episode 125

Gosh what a great episode.  We have hit such a good run lately, folks.  I am so utterly pleased to be Back In It like this.

Just.  Alura!! and Kima!!!  And Emon, god, the way everybody’s faces lit up with shock and joy and wonder at the idea that, even for a brief period of time, even just to visit a tower, they would set foot in Emon again, for the first time in their characters’ lives, it was so good.  I never love this show so much as when the players are full of love and joy, and this was very very good.

Other thoughts:

If I recall correctly, Kima’s sword was given to her not because nobody else could use a two-handed broadsword (Grog at least could’ve taken it up, and I don’t think he was currently bonded to an evil talking sword at the moment when they found it), but because it could only be attuned by a paladin.  I was super surprised at Kima giving it to Yasha on that front, since theoretically, all joking aside, Fjord is actually the only  member of the team who could actually use it!  I’d wondered if Matt was walking back the rule on his own item, or making an aasimar/zealot exception, but after that dream now I’m wondering a whole bunch of other things.  Is Yasha going to multiclass in paladin too? Is there going to be a whole NEW line of aasimar dream quests now that she’s got her wings and all?  Inquiring minds want to know!

So I like everybody else have a hundred thousand feelings about Beau and Zenoth and the Cobalt Soul right now (I spent that whole conversation with Yudala just staring at the screen going “Holy FUCK”).  I think the thing I haven’t seen said yet, the thing that’s sticking with me, is the moment between Yudala saying “Zenoth is under arrest”, and Yudala explaining why. Because, in that moment?  I would lay real good odds on Beau’s brain churning through, ‘shit, is that our fault?  Is he on the hook for something we did at some point and maybe implicated him or just forgot about completely?  Do we have to find a way to get him out of this too?’  After all, since Beau’s promotion to Inquisitor, Zenoth became something like a vaguely grudging ally.  He’s done research on the team’s behalf.  They are assholes to him only on the level that they’re assholes to people who’re basically their allies but they wouldn’t bend over backwards to really actually like.  Before this conversation, I’d put money on Beau ranking him above several other technical allies on a list of ‘people we have to work with sometimes in spite of our vaguely antagonistic relationship that we created by being reflexive dicks to literally everyone around us’. And that context just...it makes everything about this just so much more.  It’s not just that Beau was resigned to never getting justice or validation or being free of her abuser(s).  She’d normalized everything so hard it was a shock to get acknowledgement that said abuser even existed. And like...Idk.  There’s a difference between ‘this person hurt me and is still actively trying to hurt me’ (hi Trent Ikithon), vs, ‘this person hurt me and I cut them out of my life and that’s fine and all but they sure don’t seem to feel any remorse’ (hello Beau’s dad), vs, ‘yeah this person hurt me back then but I guess it’s all just sort of fine now? like, I didn’t get an apology or anything, but they don’t seem interested in hurting me any more either, sooooooooo...guess that’s good?’  The third situation is such a weird place to be in.  It’s such a confusing place to be.  It’s so rarely something that gets brought up as a situation where the abuser/aggressor still deserves to be held culpable.  And shit, but seeing it play out this way means a lot.

With their second eye each on the way at the start of next episode, I sure am going to need Beau and Caleb to start working out how to use those fuckers.  C’mon, Caleb, where is your Identify spell when we need it?  When do our characters start getting infinite at-will scrying slots and antimagic cones?  Get on it, Mighty Nein!!!

I feel like I trimmed like 3/4 of the Critrole blogs off my dash between everyone going various different ways during hiatus, and then the shipping mess circa Rumblecusp when we all came back.  I need more good CR follows.  This may have to be a quest for tomorrow morning.

[paintedwarpony]

C2E131 HIGHLIGHTS OF THE NIGHT

Sam letting the cast give him a haircut

The cast trying to give him a good haircut instead of destroying him

The ducky patterned hair guard

A BOOK

Matt Freudian Slip: Vox Machina

Storm Lord Battle Map

SURPRISE PVP

Travis' excitment over any Rage and Reckless

Yasha using the Holy Avenger

Matt: Now you guys know how I feel...

Sam asking for his origins and motivations

Laura: You're the OLDER version

The cast really giving it to Yasha

Laura's lightning character exploding and damaging everyone

Tempest Cloudburst the Italian Storm

The cast giving their lightning spirits more personality the longer they play them

Rage Beyond Death

Yasha fighting dead

All the lightning spirit names: Tempest Cloudburst, Cyclone, Windy, Lo "Barry" Barometricpressure, Shock Hudson...

"You are still dead..."

Yasha flying to the eye of the storm

Campaign 1 Call Back: Where do you find your strength?

"I protect."

Slumberparty

"Hold me."

Message to Wensforth

Timeline Shenanigans

Vandran Scry

TUSK LOVE REEMERGENCE and Travis' face

Message to Vandran

#teamoskar

Jester's name connection to Tusk Love mentioned

The Vandran Drawl

Hot Spring Roulette

"Of all the books!"

Nekked Times

Planning at Dawn

The Nein suggesting working with Ikithon

Messaging Essek and Essek's panic and sounding like he's going to bolt

CALLIOPE ARE YOU UP!?!

Clay Family Hug and the Clay Necklace

Veth's letter to her family

SO MANY MOMS

Sam coming back from the break with his new haircut ckeaned up a little

Wild Magic Teleport to Eislecross

Find the Path

To Many Maps, To Many Maps!

Hiking and Flying Eislecross

"ADD A D4!!!"

The Schwarzeneggar Storm

Almost Shakespeare

Owls vs Eagles

STEALTH CHECKS and Travis arguing about owls not making any sound in real life

Contested Grapple to use the Collar

Messages to Essek (stressed) and Vandran (awkward)

Essek: The sight of you will be welcome

Vandran on Bisaft (The Nein were there)

Last Request Chat in the Dome

Veth promises to Parenttrap the Gentleman and Marion for Jester

Jester makes Caleb promise to draw dicks in every single temple

Caleb: I don't have any other family other than you all

Molly's name dropped

Frumpkin

No Watches Night and morning Eye Check

Mass Boulder Parchment Shears Part2

Back to the Outpost

ESSEK

Essek's face as they suggest working with Ikithon

Nat 1 on a Persuasion Check against Essek

Essek: I am a coward. Caleb: Essek you have chanced much.

Caduceus: Would you mind taking off your shirt?

Nekked Times Part 2

ESSEK AND HIS GRAY SILK, SLEEVLESS UNDERSHIRT

Matt's Stressed DM face as they discuss the Sending Code and Foley

Sending to Astrid

Cast Gigglefits

Crown and Kryn

Trent deemed to dangerous to ally with (DUH)

ADVENTURER ESSEK

Telling Essek they trust him has a profound effect on him

ESSEK JOINS THE PARTY

ESSEK MINI

[nanierose]

You know sometimes I wonder what Trent Ikithon was like in Matt's head before Liam came to him with his backstory. If I recall correctly Liam said he didn't have a specific person in the role of Caleb's abuser, but Matt said Trent would be a good fit. So he was always a complete dick but how much worse did he become once he became part of Caleb's backstory? I imagine he was going to be similar to Vess in that he clearly had ulterior motives and a lust for power and knowledge, and was trying to exert influence over the king. The Vollstrucker could have been a thing potentially, though may have been more along the lines of training young wizards for that specific line minus the killing of parents and torture. He may also have become an antagonist though it would have been less likely as dynamics would be different. Imagine how different the Nein's relationship with the Assembly could have been if Matt decided not to involve them in character backstory. They could have theoretically become allies in a similar way they are with the Krynn. So many possibilities.

[analisegrey]

in every life (i’d know you)

oh look! A new thing!

This will be an ongoing type deal. Each chapter is a self-contained piece of different AUs. 

Chapter 1 just posted, and it’s a phoenix!Caleb AU.

Enjoy!