#because both his blood and the druids in the grove asked for it

[maegalkarven]

I like the theme of missed opportunities/chances and the single minor detail what can derail the course of one's life.

It's especially brightly presented in Levi's life.

There was that missed chance in his life when he was six and in the custody of the Flaming Fist. If Duke Ravengard stayed in prison for a night, or took the child with him, Sceleritas would not be able to reach the boy then, and Levi would not go to the Temple of Bhaal.

He would not become Sarevok's ward, but instead would be Wyll's adoptive brother. Both of their lives would go by the different scenarios, Wyll would never make a pact with Mizora, Levi would never become the Chosen of Bhaal.

But because it didn't happen, his life went the way it did. Sceleritas killed the guard and took the child to the temple, Sarevok taught him what it means to be a child of Bhaal, etc, etc.

Another one of these chances is the one what did change Levi's life.

He hasn't always been a druid. When he was around 10 years old, Sarevok took him on a hunt (to kill someone, yeah) to the Lower City. Sarevok chose an old druid as a target. If he hadn't, Levi's entire life would go by the different scenario. But he had.

The druid changed Levi's life profoundly yet by a very small gesture. It created the entire opportunity for Levi to be more than just a bhaalspawn. It made Levi be able to relate to the druids in the Emerald Grove, and Halsin, and Jaheira.

And all because when Levi was killing an old druid, the druid grabbed him with his weak, shaking hand, touched his cheek gently and said:

"You're such a bright young soul, there's so much life in you. Do not let this life die out."

And it made Levi stop on his tracks, bc it was the first time someone he was Actively Killing wasn't crying or screaming or calling him a monster, but so calmly accepting the fate and being...kind to him.

It was strange and it stuck.

The last thing old druid said was: "Plant my bones", and both Sarevok and Leviathan were like "wtf. Druids, amirite?"

But again, because of how Different this was from the way things usually went, Levi did as the druid asked. And something grew out of the bones, a small, weak plant. Laughable thing, really, but it struck some cord in Levi's soul again, and he returned to the druid's home and went through his things, found his diary about the circle of life and the death being just the beginning.

Again, if this druid was a normal, traditional kind of a druid and mentioned Silvanus at least once, it would immediately make Levi retreat from that knowledge. But the druid was the odd kind, the strange kind, and his thoughts resonated with Levi's and his experience with death. In them he found an answer to his own questions about death and the meaning of it, and so he started to practice the rituals from the old man's book.

He learned, piece by piece, to feel the nature, to be the nature. He self-taught himself what it means to be the druid both using his bloody background and old man's notes, and it made him who he ended up being. The blood druid, something new, yet something...not exactly evil. Just a force of nature to be reckoned with.

And this is what made him save the Emerald Grove and kill the goblins instead, because nature he understood, it spoke to him through the death and the blood. And it demanded sacrifice.

And sacrifice he gave.

[baldurs-simp]

Heyy! I love the way you write and I wanted to request smth! I imagined Zevlor meeting someone from his past as a Hellrider again, maybe someone he worked with or smth and back then they both were having feelings for each other but never said anything as they didn't think the other would feel the same, but now that they meet again their feelings just hit them again.

Thank youu! <3

My Masterlist

Summary: You reunite with Zevlor after escaping the Hells, finding him after a goblin tells you of a group of tiefling sheltered in a druid grove. It's a reunion that stirs up past feelings that you thought you had forgotten.

Warnings: mentions of the Bloor War, fluff, not much

A goblin you captured revealed the plans to raid a nearby grove housing survivors from Elturel. He told you how they plan to raid the grove in the name of their new God, the Absolute. After losing so much when Elturel descended into the Hells, you vowed to save as many as possible as a Hellrider, even after you got out. And now, you promise to save those who lost as much as you have from the heartache of yet another fight.

Venturing in the direction of where this goblin has told you the gove is, you spot its gates over the bushes, hearing people shouting commands at one another, preparing for something. Perhaps they know of the possible raid heading their way. You're sure that the death of one Goblin won't stop anything. It's best that you warn these people of the fight heading their way.

As you make your way to step out from behind the bushes, you see him. The red-skinned Tiefling, aged with many battles on his face but still a sense of hope in his eyes. A man you have not seen since the fall of Elturel.

"Zevlor," you whisper to yourself, a hand resting on top of the bramble bush in front of you.

You remember the years you spent fighting side-by-side as Hellriders, the armed forces of Elturel before its descent into Avernus. You remember fighting alongside him in the Hells, trying to protect those from fiends and devils taking part in Zariel's Blood War. You remember the sweet moments you had with him, whenever you could, laughing in a time when laughter seemed to have died.

You remember the last time you saw him.

Slowly, you step out of your little hiding spot, your heart racing in your chest, and your hands resting at your sides. Your eyes remain on Zevlor, hoping that he sees you before anyone else sees you, hoping that he will let you in without asking questions. Hoping that he will want to see you again.

He is not the first to see you. Some guard alerts everyone of your appearance, crossbows being armed and aimed right at you. You know it's because of your anonymity with your cloak's hood covering your face. Raising your hands in defense, you show that you mean no harm, before pushing down your hood.

When Zevlor spots you, recognizing your face, a breath catches in his throat. "Open the gate!"

His order makes you smile and you laugh lightly as he rushes away from his post to meet you at the gate.

You have never thought about what you might say if you were to see him again. Hells, you never even thought that you would. Seeing him again ignites something deep inside of you, the feelings you felt in those times when it was just you and him, sitting close together under the moonlight on watch. Sometimes it was just silent, but you were comfortable.

You think you had grown to love him, before Zariel got her claws into you and dragged you away.

"(Y/n)," Zevlor whispers as he reaches you, wanting to reach out and touch you to make sure that you are not some illusion set before him. He hesitates, pulling his hand back as he shifts on his feet.

No doubt you look different with new scars on your face and body, a sign that you still had a part to play in the Blood Wars. Which part, he cannot be sure of, but a part all the same.

"Glad to see that you made it out of the Hells before I did, Hellrider," you say, a small laugh in your voice as you take a step closer to him.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he averts his gaze from you. "Not a Hellrider anymore. And yet, I go from one war into another."

"The goblins?" you ask, causing him to nod at you before he frowns, unsure of how you know that. "One of them told me that I might find survivors of Elturel here. Never thought that you'd be included in the group."

"And now? Which side do you stand on?"

"Alway on your righthand side."

He smiles, knowing that your words are true. And you can tell that he's recounting the moments you two spent together. His body relaxes and he puts his crossbow away to welcome you with open arms.

[amywritesthings]

the better strategy. / astarion x tav

summary: After successfully saving Druid Grove, Astarion has one goal in mind: secure his safety. His strategy? Seduce Tav. But what if that plan goes horribly wrong and he falls for his own game? pairing: astarion x tav (female, she/her) word count: 3.9k tags: act one spoilers, non-sexual intimacy, hand kink/hand holding, astarion's pov, miscommunications, allusions to astarion's past, selûne worshipper!tav // mature for thematic elements

part one. / part three. | masterlist.

PART TWO: THE REPRISE.

.

He can still feel the tickle of moving fingertips when he flexes his hand.

It’s positively psychotic, to think an undead runaway such as himself truly, and willingly, spent an entire night sitting side by side with a cleric of Selûne — a goddamn messenger of a moon goddess whose never earned more than a spit to her worshipping plaque in Baldur's Gate from him.

Not only sitting side by side, however, no.

They were stargazing.

They were stargazing and holding hands, for fuck’s sake.

Like the wretched gentleman he’d been mesmerized into becoming overnight, Astarion walked the little wood elf back to her tent once the wee hours of the morning crawled near. He sent her off and bid her goodnight like a caller — like a godsdamn suitor vying for her affection.

Then they parted ways, and Astarion was left alone to lay in his tent where he spent the morning hours staring at the peak of his tent with a confusion he hadn’t felt in…

Well, ever.

They were supposed to have sex.

He was supposed to give it to her so damned good that she’d stay by his side and only his side. 

He was supposed to secure his safety within this group as they traveled from the grove to the Githyanki creche, to the Underdark, and beyond.

Seduction was the only thing he was good for. It was the only thing he was good at. Yet he got rejected, twice, without it ever feeling like a rejection at all.

Because Tav still wanted to sit with him, right?

She still wanted to talk his ear off about Selûne  this and the moon that, right?

And he allowed her to trace the lines of his palm without questioning her intent, good or bad, and stayed against his better judgment — right?

She chose him that night. She never strayed to another tent.

(He stayed up to make sure.)

So what the fuck does it mean when he’s stuck at the back of the party listening to Gale drabble on about magic while the self-appointed Mama K plays personal bodyguard and Wyll strolls leisurely at the front with Tav?

That’s supposed to be him.

Astarion is meant to be the one to influence Tav. Astarion is meant to advise her on what to do and what to avoid in these ghastly ruins. Astarion is meant to steer her in a direction that will keep them both safe — because she’s the only one who can keep him from going back.

Yet it’s Wyll who’s charmed her, made her laugh with his Blade of Frontiers glory stories, while Karlach makes sure that not a singular hair falls out of place as the two women walk elbow-to-shoulder across a shadow-infested bridge.

They’re a pack of wolves vying for her affection — even Lae’zel has exceptionally warmed up to the wood elf upon their perilous endeavors to a sacred Githyanki creche. 

Each person has been touched by the cleric and wants her approval, her affections, but he has one thing on Saint Tav that the rest do not:

Her blood.

Her very life essence flows through his veins because she has willingly, consensually, offered her neck to him — a decision that cannot be made lightly, not for the living, not when he held his truth from her for so long.

Yet every morning she arrives like clockwork to his tent, bringing pleasantries and whatever vile breakfast Gale has made for camp. She asks him about sleep — he doesn’t have the courage to tell her he’s never slept so peacefully in his undead life. She asks him how he’s feeling — he doesn’t know how to answer that honestly.

Then comes her offer, and what lowly little spawn would ever say no?

(You can feed on me tonight, if you’d like.)

He still doesn’t know why she does it.

Nonetheless, Astarion will play up the charm and leer like she’s the most delectable thing in Sword Coast — because Gods, with a track record of one living person under his belt, nothing tastes quite like her.

Nothing probably ever will.

(My sweet, there is nothing I’d like more.)

Tav has a bleeding heart, but surely she must know that the benefits of this arrangement are purely one-sided. If he’s not fucking her, then what the hell can he give her? Extra protection in battle, maybe. Extra coin from pick-pocketing and lock-picking, sure.

But there is nothing — he is nothing.

At the very least, Astarion has tried to make the experience of drinking her blood as painless as possible. 

When Cazador bit him, it hurt. Brazingly so. 

The vampire spawn never wants Tav to know such discomfort.

He likes when her hand holds his bicep, squeezing at the first pinch when teeth breaches skin. He likes feeling that grip lessen, relax, when he flicks his tongue over the wounds as an apology. I’ve got you.

In a way, it’s twistedly romantic.

People have always romanticized a vampire’s bite. Perhaps he’s simply romanticizing Tav.

He found cradling her head helps eliminate the strain in her muscles. And, if he uses his free hand to hold her hip, then Tav makes gentle noises in his ear — he likes those the most.

A suppressed whimper not of pain or disgust, but a misplaced euphoria.

Sometimes he’ll find himself threading his fingers through her thick locks, testing the softness — it’s always feather-light. Sometimes he’ll leave her hip and press a palm to the juncture of her neck and jawline and glide his thumb along her chin, too much of a coward to touch her lips.

And sometimes — Gods, more than sometimes — his stomach will sour at the notion Tav only allows him to feed from her body out of some heroic obligation, a dubious consenting victim bared raw to a bloodthirsty monster that she may considerably fear.

But what does it matter? This is about his survival, not hers.

(It must matter, deep down, because he’s fallen into the habit of waiting with his lips against her neck to ask one make-or-break question: are you sure?  

Nothing is sweeter, nothing is more divine, than her breathy response: I’m sure.)

By now, most of their party is aware of the most interesting deal. It didn’t take long for Gale to look sickened and for Shadowheart to appear intrigued by such a proposal. The consensus fell to a unanimous one: as long as it wasn’t one of their necks, then it didn’t matter what the hells was happening after the sun went down.

Because Tav said she trusts him. So they, in turn, trust Tav.

Yet somehow, even with the leg up on the rest of these idiots, Astarion finds himself in the bloody back of the pack while Gale absently flips through his book of helpful (see: incredibly unhelpful) spells, occupying his brain with anything other than his goddess.

“Here.”

Tav’s voice makes both men stir from their own worlds to look at her as she points to a seemingly untainted alcove. 

“According to Halsin’s instructions, Moonrise Towers isn’t far. We shall rest for the night, get our bearings, then soldier on in the morning.”

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Karlach groans, flopping instantly onto a tree stump. “My poor feet. They’re ready to fall off.”

“Do you need help with your tent, Tav?” Wyll asks Tav as he leans closer to her side, causing the cleric to look into his eyes.

The man smiles at her, clearly meaning it in a helpful way, but—

“No need!”

Astarion calls, holding up a flamboyant finger as he glides through the thick of their companions. 

“I’m sure the magic men are better suited at securing a protective perimeter with our stock of torches. Surely we’ll need to use plenty of them to ward off any pesky problems in this dire hellscape.”

He’s quick to grab Tav’s pack before Wyll can even touch it. 

“Go on,” he ushers with a disgusted sneer, “go do magic things. I’ve got this.”

This, as it appears, is a grave miscalculation on his part. The entire party stops and stares with varying degrees of confusion at Astarion’s sudden bout of helpfulness. Even Lae’zel, who couldn’t be bothered with any of their drama, has a deeper scowl than usual.

When Astarion looks around the pack, however, his attention falls on Tav’s rounded eyes that stare back at him.

The cleric’s lips part in that funny way when she’s at a loss for words, straddling kindness and honesty, and Astarion cannot help but feel smug about it.

Yes, he murmurs in his mind’s eye, as if the tadpole will relay his thoughts. Look at me. Only me. See how useful I am to you, darling.

“You’ve got this?” Shadowheart breaks the tension, souring the mood.

“Magic men?” Gale adds with a deep frown.

“We don’t even do the same things,” Wyll murmurs, brows knit as he turns to Gale to deliberate.

“Last I recall, it took hours for you to pitch your tent,” Shadowheart adds, squinting in a way that’s downright annoying to the vampire — trying to figure out where his niceties derive. “Are the days of the Grove so far behind us already?”

“Your attempts were most pitiful,” Lae’zel quips, upper lip twitching at her passive agreement with the Shar cleric to her right.

“Astarion.”

There — Tav’s voice cuts through all the noise, and the vampire focuses on it. Revels in it, that she lets go of her pack so that he may swing the strap heavily over his shoulder. The vampire refuses to let it fall, gripping tightly to the handle as Tav addresses everyone with her eyes.

Thinking.

Always thinking. Always assessing. Always trying to do the thing that makes everyone happy.

“You don’t have to,” she murmurs, and suddenly his good mood goes to waste. 

Right. She’d rather Wyll help her. She’s not obsessed with him as much as he’d—

“But I want to,” he blurts quietly, and her expression softens.

The effect of his feigned selflessness is instantaneous, and he blinks his crimson eyes several times to comprehend.

Is this how he wins the game? Not by fucking her until she can’t walk — that will come eventually, he’s sure of it — but by simply… doing what she perceives as the nice thing?

Oh, he could vomit.

It’s such a fairytale approach, and he is in no part a prince.

Regardless, Tav smiles and turns her chin towards Wyll. “Astarion has the right idea. I trust you and Gale to secure the perimeter of camp while the rest of us set up the tents. Would you like us to take care of yours while you’re busy?”

What?

He didn’t offer to fucking touch Gale’s tent—

“You’re lovely to do so,” Wyll tells her, genuine in his gratitude, “but we’ll take care of ours once we return. Thank you, Tav.”

Gale, still speechless in his confusion, slowly follows the warlock when Wyll presses his palm to the wizard’s shoulder and guides him towards the perimeter.

The moon lantern’s glow makes it easy to track everyone in this eternal darkness, but Astarion isn’t watching or caring whether they make it to the banks safely.

Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Karlach go about their own business, choosing to situate their own tents. It’s only when he realizes how elaborate this shit is — the tapestries, the poles, the… maddening holes they need to spear into the dirt — does he regret his impulsive decision.

“Something on your mind, Astarion?” Tav finally asks, screwing some poles together with a suppressed smile. “I thought you hated setting these up.”

“Yes, well,” the vampire relents, picking up a metal pole with a grimace at the packed dirt touching his palm, “Wyll felt the need to keep you all to himself the entire way here.”

“I wouldn’t agree with that version of events,” the wood elf replies, clearly amused as she bends over to wriggle the pole in the dirt. “Karlach was right beside me and—”

“Stop.”

Tav blinks, the worry spreading instantly. Is she always this nervous to displease others?

“What did I—”

Astarion holds out his palm, brow quirked. “I said I’d help.”

She looks lovely bent at the hips like this, her travel-worn hair cascading over her shoulder. Usually he’s ready to stare at the neck that will be at his mercy in just a few short hours. Instead he’s so hellbent on staring at all of her, the complete image of her, as she assesses.

Then she relents.

Tav gives him the pole, and Astarion gets to work. It’s miserable — the tapping of dirt, the prodding to see where it will take best, the shoving and the turning and everything in-between. He utterly loathes the feeling of perspiration on his skin, but he knows Wyll wouldn’t complain.

When did he start to care so fucking much about what the bloody warlock would do?

The wood elf crosses her arms over her chest, watching for a spell, before dropping her knees. “Wait, you didn’t loop—”

“I was getting to that,” he hotly argues, waving her hand away, and she giggles.

Gods above, she fucking giggles. He’s almost two centuries older than her yet he feels no older than when he was given immortality when she laughs like that.

“I believe you,” Tav tells him, patting him on the shoulder before leaving to start work on the back half of the tent.

Astarion takes a moment to watch her leave, to get engrossed in her task, her laughter echoing in his mind.

He’s losing his touch.

“I figured I spend so many of my nights with you,” Tav starts again, turning her chin to watch as they prepare her tent for the evening, “that it would be wise to check in with the others.”

Is that her version of an apology, for ignoring him? Astarion snorts. “Is that what we do? Spend the nights together?”

“In our way,” she replies, securing the back corner of the tent. She moves towards the west end of it, disappearing behind fabric.

Astarion freely rolls his eyes when she’s out of view. “I visit, my dear. I have yet to spend.”

“Then would you like to?”

The rogue question from the cleric almost has the man fucking up his stringed knot.

He lurches forward, briefly, crimson eyes wide and…

His stomach leaps into his throat, partially with relief and mostly with dread.

Did she just suggest what he thinks she suggested?

He’s grateful for the obscurity from the tent, allowing his facial expressions to run through the motions of what Tav may in fact offer at this moment: the one thing he’s been trying to get her to agree to, to want, to desire, since they met.

Him.

His company. His words. His… body.

He sharply inhales through his nose and smirks, sauntering towards the west of the tent. The pale elf peers around the fabric to see her staring back at him with a bright, warm smile.

“You wish to share this evening?” he purrs.

Tav gives a one-shoulder shrug, securing her pole to the ground. (How the hells did she finish these tasks so fast? He’s not even started on the final corner.) “It would be easier than pitching two tents, is it not? We’re only here for the night, and you were nice enough to—”

“No need for an explanation, darling,” Astarion cuts off, expression darkening. “I will see you and your delicious little self tonight.”

He doesn’t remember finishing the final anchors of her tent.

He doesn’t remember whatever they spoke about between her proposition and the midnight hour.

He doesn’t remember Gale and Wyll returning, the camp eating their remnants of a dinner, before promptly falling asleep without ever questioning Astarion’s lack of shelter.

Astarion crawls into himself to scheme, plan, prepare — she’s finally admitted she wants him in her tent after dark not just to feed, but to share.

To stay with her. 

He wasn’t born yesterday. He knows what this will lead to.

Then why is he so fucking sad that he’ll have to deceive her, toy with her, become everything she’s ever wanted — when this is what he’s wanted, too?

They near Baldur’s Gate with every passing sunrise. Cazador’s palace will be just over the Shadowlands and into the horizon of the Lower City. He’s already wasted so much time in uncertainty — he cannot afford to lose now.

Yet when he opens the flap to Tav’s tent, anticipating her trousers to be on the floor or her gaze to be hungry, he’s met with… well, with a woman sipping wine alone on her bedroll, not the least bit fazed by his entrance.

“Hi,” Tav greets, all smiles and no seduction.

Astarion clears his throat, remembering to close the flap behind him. “Hi.”

(Smooth. So fucking smooth.)

Tav pats a seat beside her, and Astarion lamely sits down beside her. He ought to be ravishing her. He ought to be pushing her shoulders down, finding out whether she loves dirty talk or sweet nothings or—

“I didn’t really wish to sleep alone tonight.”

Blinking twice, the vampire turns his chin belated to the cleric who watches the front of her tent like a hawk. The smaller wood elf shifts in her seat, drawing in a slow inhale as if to…

He can sense she’s nervous, but not about what he’s so used to.

"It's embarrassing, I know," she admits, fidgeting with her fingers. "Though I suppose no one else will know it."

"They're all asleep," he coos. "I checked. Your secrets are safe with me. Speak freely, darling."

(Nothing is safe with me, he wants to scream.)

Tav scrunches her nose, nodding. Agreeing, somehow.

"Well, it's just that I don't... this place, it's so... I can't help but feel... fear."

“You’re afraid of the Shadowlands?” he bluntly asks, squinting with accusation.

Tav, bless her soft heart, shrugs. The string front of her tunic loosens with the movement. “I know my goddess is somewhere, not so much far as she is near, but it’s so… bleak. You can hardly see the moon out here.” 

She turns to look his way, all rounded eyes and parted lips, and if he had a heart? It would break for her.

With each passing second, her bravery and wisdom diminishes, stripping her of her armor until she’s laid bare beside him.

“I’ve never been away from my goddess since my vow to her, not once. Not even when I woke up on the ship with the mind flayers and the tadpoles. But it is dark out here, and I feel… consumed, by it.”

Tav frowns, searching his face for answers the vampire does not have. He looks just as in the dark as she feels. His own lips part to mirror hers, uncertain of how to proceed.

“It is terrifying without Selûne. I am terrified without Selûne. But if I cannot have my goddess here to protect me, then at least I have you near."

The wood elf has a funny way of rendering him speechless.

Time and time again, he proves to her that he is not trustworthy — that he is not noble like the Duke’s son, or honorable like the tiefling that escaped Avernus, or bold like the Githyanki who defied her own queen’s will.

He will use her and throw her away when the time comes to keep running.

Right?

“I could be…”

His voice is but a croak. Astarion is surprised to hear it in the quiet of the night as they stare at one another. Tav’s eyes round, inquisitive, and he clears his throat.

“I could be nearer, if you’d like.”

This is the moment he has to take the reins; to kiss her, to devour her, to push her onto her back and make her sing his name for all of their companions to hear.

 — but he cannot.

Tav tilts her chin just so, asking without speaking, before Astarion takes the plunge.

His arm closest to her lifts off of his side, held out to invite her in. He’s seen people in taverns do this in times of need, in times of grief, when he’d stalk the lonely ones at the demand of his master. He’s seen the act of comfort with bodies outside of sex, but he isn’t quite sure if this is how it works.

Tav pauses, brows knit for just a second, before she speaks five words he’s never thought another person could ask someone as vile as him:

“Are you alright with that?”

She knows — knows what he’s done, what he’s been subjected to, under Cazador’s spell. 

Agency is something of a fairytale for vampire spawn. Quite frankly, even with the tadpole lodged in his head, it still is.

But she asks anyway.

When Astarion nods, forcing his body to comply with her question, Tav slides close to his side and rests her temple against his chest. She fits so perfectly against him, even if she still keeps a triangle of space between them at the hip.

His arm remains outstretched, uncertain what to do. He can feel himself panic — fearful he may blow this, that he may say something out of turn, that he may suggest the wrong things — but the sensation of the back of her hand gently resting on the top of his thigh expels all anguish.

It’s an offer.

A beckoning, against all better judgment.

Thickly Astarion swallows and reaches for her palm. Their hands glide together, smooth and cold and soft.

How is she always so soft?

“Thank you,” she murmurs against his tunic, and Astarion doesn’t respond. Can’t, not when he wants to scream and yell and tell her all of the wicked things he planned to do tonight, and every other night, since the tiefling party.

All he can do is relent — his arm finally wraps timidly around her shoulders, pulling the scent of her hair closer to his nose.

He rests the lower half of his face against the crown of her head, breathing her in, as his eyes stare at a corner of the tent he didn’t properly secure.

“Better?” he murmurs into her hair, too afraid to say anything more.

Her body relaxes into his arm, his torso, and he can feel it — her fear, her anxieties, melt with such a simple gesture.

She nods wordlessly, cheek pressed against his shirt, and folds her slender fingers over his.

After a half hour, he feels it: the way her body slumps heavier against his, back expanding and contracting against the length of his arm.

Asleep.

Tav, for some unfathomable reason, feels safe enough to sleep beside a vampire spawn.

Beside him.

Jaw clenched, Astarion forces himself to keep watch on that fragile little corner of her tent.

To stay completely still for hours, so as to not wake the wood elf gently snoring at his side.

To remain right here, with her, until sunrise.

[trulycertain]

Tedium

A study of early game Lora and Astarion, and the absolute mess that was. Developing mostly-good bard Tav/Astarion, with so much arguing. 1.6k.

Lora has always found small, petty bastards boring - the kinds who tried to make her and so many others' lives a misery in the city. They've just got so little imagination. Their excuses are all the same, it's just a matter of scale. Even if they pretend to be misguidedly noble, the self-interest slips through eventually. Evil in stories is grand, elegant, tragic. It has really good tailoring. Evil in real life? It's banal, grey or mud-soaked, and seems to take place in offices half the time, for some reason. Good, that cheap, trite thing in too many stories? In reality, it's a sudden sparkling surprise every time it happens; Baldur's Gate is not a place known for being gentle. People are more beautiful when they do a good thing. The sky is brighter, the grass just a little bit greener.

Astarion is small, in the sense of both generosity of spirit and actual stature - it's not her fault that she's six foot two and that he gets so irritated when she sees something over the top of his head. She's not doing it on purpose. Mostly.

He's incredibly petty. (“Oh, I'm sure she's just a delight at parties,” he says of the druid guard who's stopped them at least twice, thinking they might be refugees. “Refugee? Me? Have they seen this thread? Have I a pair of horns and an air of pathetic desperation? Just because I didn't know that dirt-encrusted branches were apparently ‘in’ this week...” Finger-quotes and everything. Lora might have snorted at that. He catches her; he raises an eyebrow in response, but with the tiniest pleased tilt to his mouth.)

And he's definitely a bastard. He's happy to leave the tieflings to die - happy to leave anyone to, it seems. She has to take a deep breath at that, but there are the pressing time constraints of soon turning into a mindflayer; no wonder he wants to get straight to healers and the creche. Good intentions won't mean much if you turn into a squid mid-fight and end up killing or kidnapping all the refugees anyway. She tries hard to bear that in mind while he sighs melodramatically, as if helping people is an inconvenience that might lead to his breaking a nail, and she glares at him. He delights in a holy relic being stolen - but with something like genuine approval of the tiefling child's bravery, somewhere under all that. And he's not wrong that all this self-righteousness about not interfering in nature is a bit rich when you're very intentionally turning people out to the mercy of raiders. But that's all he's right about.

A small, petty bastard. All that's true, and real. So why does she keep talking to him? Why isn't she bored? Angry, most of the time, and amused, sometimes, but not bored.

If Lora knows one thing, it's a narrative. Retellings wear grooves in the dirt for a reason; it feels like there's a way some stories have to wrap up. She knows exactly how it would have ended if she'd met Astarion before the tadpole. A cruel vampire too well-oiled by half, who seemed to delight in death and blood? One of them would have ended up dead, the other with a twist of satisfaction - his at having survived another day and, as a bonus, shut up a pompous hero type; hers at having taken someone that dangerous out of the world, even if she'd have completely missed the master pulling the strings.

Later, when she realises she's been imagining completely the wrong backstory for him, she thinks of the Grove again. Of being free for the first time in two hundred years, finally able to walk in the sun, and losing it in minutes because your leader ran headfirst into a battle.

Hells, she hates when he almost makes sense. It makes her dust off her moral compass for a quick check.

Still, he meanders up to her - to poke her, to tease and taunt, but sometimes just… to ask questions. Feeling for her weak spots, probably, but there's a cheerful curiosity in his eyes that seems genuine when he asks her how she learned to play the lyre, what her other instruments are. It's a rare moment of peace in between their mutual arguments. He plays it off soon enough with some comment about her being good with her hands and an eyebrow-waggle, but the questions were real. He prods her to see what falls out and she… lets him. If anything, she does the same. And she still isn't bored.

He delights in bloodshed and mayhem; he drinks deeply of death just the way he does of life. She’s caught him laughing under his breath when someone falls to the floor, caught him licking the blood off his daggers when he thought she wasn’t looking - that just got her a red-stained grin and an obscene widening of his arms like he was inviting her to look. He makes jokes about killing gnomes. He makes jokes about killing her, though those are actually funny, and he's right about having to face what will happen if they change; it's best to do it with a laugh. It's also oddly forthright, oddly brave, for a man who's never been forthright in his life. He beams at her when she plays along, like she’s just given him a gift, morbidly pleased at speaking of his own beheading. Death and bloodshed and mayhem, yes.

Except.

Except when she’s watching a young tiefling girl about to be bitten by a snake, or pretending to offer the goblins’ general the tiefling camp on a platter. His eyes harden, in that moment, even while his mouth twitches and he makes amused, contemptuous quips: like he’s waiting for her to make the obvious choice. And even as he makes approving noises at the thought of the goblins’ victory, even as he castigates her for her soppy kindness…

Cruelty would be the obvious, the easy choice. It would be exactly what he expects. It would also be, she’s certain more and more when she feels those red eyes on her, the boring choice. To him, too. Even if he doesn't want to admit it.

She's always had a good instinct for people, so her mentor used to say. It got taught to her early, taught her when a glassing was coming or she was about to get stiffed on payment at a tavern or just how to work a crowd.

Stories in well-worn grooves. Two hundred years of death and desperate self-service and making sure everyone's expendable but you, over and over again. The same narrative shoved down your throat for two hundred years.

The shape of it is there in her mind, sketched out but not detailed yet: he knows cruelty like the back of his hand, partaking and receiving. He can sleepwalk his way through it. There’s a delight when he speaks of it, an amusement in his eyes, but it’s the same as when he spoke of being a magistrate back in the city, it’s all very tedious, lording his power over her, pointed and urbane and far, far too well-rehearsed. The same way she looks over her shoulder and catches him flirting with their companions, incorrigible, a lazy, leering lean closer in his tone even as he keeps walking beside them. There’s real amusement there at getting to play with words, at making them uncomfortable, and yet... I saw you mouthing that one to yourself in the mirror earlier, Shadowheart points out, when he tries a particularly trite line on her. And Lora thinks, Exactly.

He bristles and shouts at her and makes drawled comments about how much of a drip she is. She agrees to find an elderly woman’s missing daughter; behind her, she hears him sigh and not even bother to hide it, the rolling of his eyes entirely audible. They get back to camp and he asks her, “This will take us closer to understanding the tadpole how, exactly?” He hates every minute of it, hates her - but there’s a wildfire in him, searing bright and unrehearsed and fascinatingly real, when he snarls at her and melodramatically turns his back to her and calls her tedious.

She bought it at first, the way he called her that. She was boring, certainly, and he was a self-serving shallow ass - that part was true, even if he was lying through his teeth about so many things. He got to stay because they dearly needed a lockpicker and archer as good as him, and because she was too reluctantly herself to let him turn into a mindflayer alone, even if she should have. As he said that second night: you need someone to put you out of your misery.

And then she realised precisely what it was, behind all the bared teeth and callous suggestions: he’s waiting.

He waits for her to slip and kill someone because it’s easier, or say that he deserved his master’s treatment. She laughs sometimes at his sense of humour - less dark, more Underdark - and takes precisely none of his suggestions. He waits for her to be a humourless paladin type who crushes him underfoot or turns out to be a stiff fraud wearing mail, and she cackles at his muttered observations, happily humiliates the little tyrants they see on the road along with him. The moments their eyes meet and she sees the silent vicious glee in his, too, the both of them knowing pride comes before a very long fall, they almost understand each other. She lies and cheats the false servants of Tyr before killing them anyway, because they were going to drag an innocent tiefling back to the Hells, and sees his reluctantly impressed eyebrows out of the corner of her eye - and then she gives the money to refugees while he sighs. He snarls, I was a slave and waits for her to order him about or step over him; the best she can tell, she treats him just the same. As they keep to the road and he realises that the mask he’s been trying to pry away is just her face, the easy, dulled cynicism in his eyes is starting to be replaced by something else: a confused, furious surprise. Maybe the first surprise he’s had in two centuries.

She’s learned to read him a little better, over these weeks on the road. She’s driving him mad. He’s incandescently angry with and baffled by her in turns. But she doesn’t believe him when he says he finds her tedious.

[mirabai0821]

Blood and Honey WIP Chapter: Eleventy Six

Pairings: Tav x Halsin x Astarion Warnings: none (unless you think two stupid elves being mean to each other warrants a warning) Words: 1166 Summary: Halsin and Astarion have their long awaited showdown. This snippet immediately follows this one and is an expansion of this headcanon post.

Halsin rose, finger to his lips, and gestured toward the door. The two elves adjourned from Tav’s room, finding an empty one next door to continue what was not likely to be an amicable conversation. 

Halsin did his best to keep his contempt out of his expression, settling instead on what he hoped was an intimidating stare. “I found her drained to exhaustion in the forge and brought her to her room for better rest. I’ll ask that you keep your voice low, or, better yet, silent completely.” 

The accusation wasn’t subtle, but Astarion was spoiling for a fight and would have taken umbrage at ‘Hello.’

“What exactly are you implying, Master Halsin?” He knew the druid to be particularly prickly about that title and he grinned when the wrinkles on Halsin’s face deepened in a scowl. 

“I do not imply, vampire. I state outright.”

“Then out with it.”

“I found her passed out in the forge, with your fang marks in her wrist.”

Astarion scoffed. “You knew what I was the day you met me, don’t act scandalized now!”

Halsin grunted angrily. “I do not begrudge you your unnatural hunger. Nor your methods of feeding. Nor even who you feed from. But you feed recklessly, greedily, and without concern. It tires her to injury. You take without regard. Her soft heart may grant you grace, but I will not. Enough.” 

Astarion barked a short, cruel laugh. “Oh that’s rich coming from you.” He took a step closer to the druid, fixing him with his coldest stare. “You talk of taking, what of you? How much have you taken from her? How much will you continue to take from her?” It was a rhetorical question, but Astarion still paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink deep like knives in soft, exposed underbelly.

“I don’t care for your tone, little vampling. You know nothing of what you speak,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“Don’t I? Well, I may take, but at least with me, she knows all I require is a mouthful of blood here and there. With you, it could be anything.” Astarion tapped a sharp nail to Haisin’s chest to punctuate every point.

”She saved your Grove, your very life, she even let you tag along after it was clear you couldn’t help us with our tadpole problem.”

Astarion drew blood with that blow but Halsin hoped it didn’t show on his face. This little predator would seize on any show of weakness. But until now, the predator was only stalking his prey. Now was the time to strike.

“For all your noble posturing, Master Halsin, the truth is, you really don’t give a damn about her.”

Halsin growled in warning but Astarion didn’t stop his tirade. 

“She hangs on your every word, on your every smile, mooning after you like some pathetic lovelorn maiden. And for all her troubles; the way she drank herself stupid on potions for sake of a lute, they way she tarried going to Moonrise knowing her tiefling brethren were all but dead in its dungeons, for all her awkward flirtings up to and including serving you her still-bleeding heart on a silver platter, you have given her nothing in return!”

Every barb struck true, Astarion could see it in his pained expression. He didn’t need to breathe but his chest still heaved, triumphant that he’d gotten that salvo off. It was hypocrisy of the highest order but it didn’t matter. The druid deserved every arrow and more. How dare Halsin dismiss what he would kill to have earnestly!

“Silence venomous creature, I have done nothing…” Astarion clapped. “You’re right! You’ve done nothing! If I’m as terrible as you say, why did you wait until now to say anything? It’s because you and I both know the truth. She’s just a means to an end to you!”

Halsin’s eyes flashed a brilliant gold but it might as well have been a white flag. Yet Astarion wouldn’t let up on his onslaught.

“We should have marched on Moonrise a tenday ago. But we’re still here fucking around with musical instruments because of you. And when she inevitably gets herself killed helping you with your foolish vision quest all you’ll do is step over her beautiful corpse, shed a single tear, and chalk it all up to the will of your fucking Oak Father!” 

The vampire delighted in the bulge from Halsin’s clenched jaw. This round was his though he knew it wasn’t a fair fight with irony so thick he could choke on it. He cared about Tav and knew Halsin genuinely cared about her too, but none of this posturing was for her or even about her. It was about assuaging his own guilt.

Halsin had done what Astarion had always meant to do, just with fewer, less complicated steps. What Astarion meant to accomplish with sex, Halsin accomplished without it. They were two elves with similar goals, dissimilar means, but a similar selfishness. Astarion’s acrimony was just a front for his jealousy.

Halsin was better than him in every way, even manipulation.

Still, it felt good to hurt him, to skin his self righteous pelt. A hollow victory is a victory all the same.

But… When you fight a bear, one should aim to kill, not hurt. 

“What a pair we make,” Halsin remarked, straightening himself to his full height. He retreated from the younger elf and sat at a table in the empty room. He pulled his pipe from satchel and lit it, taking a moment to let the calming smoke fill his lungs until they burned before exhaling. 

“Both selfish, both manipulative.”

“Aye,” Astarion agreed. 

There was a long pause as Halsin took another drag from his pipe then he delivered the killing blow.

“And both too godsdamned cowardly to tell that woman how much we love her.”

Oh...fuck.

Astarion couldn’t breathe. He doesn’t breathe but he couldn’t even make his chest move in an imitation of the action. Something deadly wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed so hard, it threatened to knock him out cold. “What are you talking about, druid?” 

Halsin grinned a smile that no face that kind should ever make. “Oh, don’t play coy now, Astarion, I thought we were telling truths here.”

“Shut up! You know nothing!”

Halsin’s cold smile deepened. “I’m old Astarion, not blind. You think I can’t see the way you cleave to her closer than her own shadow?”

“Shut up!”

“Or the way your calculated smiles soften the moment she looks away?”

“Be quiet!”

“But what gives you away every time, every time, are your eyes. There’s real life in them, when you look at her.”

Astarion stood mute, shocked to utter silence.

“For my part, I intend to tell her soon,” Halsin extinguished the small flame in his pipe.”I wonder, though, if you will ever find the courage?”

Halsin felt no joy when Astarion turned on his heel and fled the room.

[faerywhimsy]

Day 1 - A Druid

"Will you tell me a story?" Daniel asked, at the end of a long night, at what was the second anniversary of his turning that Daniel and Marius had spent together.

The last year had been... rather more difficult. Marius had made both of them the silent promise that this year would not again be the same.

"Whatever you wish, young one," Marius said softly. "What would please you? A ghost story? One of a necromancer, perhaps?"

"Will you tell me about when you became a vampire?" Daniel asked softly, still not meeting his eye. "There was a druid involved, wasn't there?"

"A God of the Grove," Marius uttered, his voice still soft but now for a different reason. Marius did not like to think of his beginnings.

He supposed he was a little like Daniel in that way. The past still had such power to cause such pain.

"That's right." Daniel frowned, as though he was trying to remember something, then he let it pass as though accepting his brain still wouldn't work the way he wanted it to. The way he still sometimes expected it to nonetheless. "Would you tell me about that?"

"Will that help?" Marius asked him, lifting one fair brow.

Daniel gave a shrug, retreating back into quiet. Marius didn't know if it was because he'd lost his words to answer, or whether it was simply just Daniel did not know the answer to Marius' question.

And so Marius moved into granting to Daniel what he had asked for. With his soft, even cadence, Marius articulated the story of how one called Mael brought an aging scholar of the age of forty into the wood where the burned and crippled vampire known only as the God of the Grove could no longer inspire the devotion his followers required of him.

"I was to replace him," Marius murmured in his carefully measured tone. "I did not know that at the time. I did not even yet know of such immortals existed."

"Apart from the Greek Gods," Daniel acerbically inserted, having found his voice again for a moment, to Marius' delight.

He smiled. Daniel's engagement made unpacking this story for him all the more worthwhile.

"Apart from them," he agreed. Not Gods of the Grove those. A god of the sky, and lightning. Another of the sea and all its creatures. Still one more of darkness and underworld. And so, so many of their siblings and lovers and offspring.

Marius wondered how much his life would have been changed had even just Hades proven demonstrably real; capable of overcoming the druids who had kept Marius until his escape.

Alas, it had been many long centuries since Marius had believed in any god.

Marius learned the language of the druids, he told Daniel. The language that would enable him to converse with those of a world Marius had been unable to previously imagine.

Nobody had ever told him that a human couldn't hope to live with the knowledge of what they were without going insane.

Marius hadn't remained human long enough for that to become any real issue.

And then on the night of the Feast of Samhain, Marius was walked to the great oak tree, where the blood drinker in that place taught him what lessons he could of their kind before bringing him into the blood. It was he who gave Marius the purpose that turned into him becoming the caretaker to the Mother and Father of them all, long before Akasha's bloody rise.

Daniel was silent a long time while Marius was locked in his own thoughts. "Feast of Samhain," he said, breaking into Marius' darker thoughts. "That's... Halloween, yeah?"

Marius ensured that he could speak without his voice breaking before he ever opened his mouth. "It is. Yes."

Daniel smiled, his eyes seeming to go far away for a moment. But not too far. He didn't seem to struggle to come back. But, finally, Daniel observed softly, "You became a vampire at the same time of year as me."

Marius stared at this one so young in the blood, the fledgling of his own fledgling. He felt a softness rise in him for the first time, then, for a very long time. How simple Daniel made it. Bypassing entirely the shared trauma all blood drinkers seemed to carry, just that of being brought into the blood.

It had been something he tried to spare Armand many centuries before and, perhaps, in that one aim Marius had succeeded. But there were so many other ways he had failed him, and Marius keenly held onto each.

Ways that, centuries later, Daniel had somehow gone on to paying for on Marius' behalf.

There were times Marius could barely look at Daniel wouldn't feeling the guilt of ages washing over him. Was endless pain and suffering their only legacy?

And then Daniel, in a momentary reprieve, would say something so utterly genuine and simple that the reframing could bring beauty to something Marius had only seen as ugly before. He managed to bring Marius back to himself when he struggled to find his own purpose in this too modern world.

"I did," Marius said, unable to find the words to articulate the gravity of feelings Daniel had unwittingly stirred in him. "Yes."

Daniel nodded and smiled gently as his eyes began to flutter shut. It would not be dawn for some time yet, but Daniel still felt its coming far sooner than Marius.

Marius only watched the young one as he slept, this boy who contained multitudes that may have gone overlooked if if another lost vampire hadn't decided to offer him an interview.

[tadpolejourney]

Days 11-12

I was so sick last night, I couldn't write. I'll have to put my work on Act V aside to catch up on yesterday and today.

Yesterday was such a crazy ass fucking day. I must emphasize that I have been having some very strange and crazy days lately, and this was the most insane day yet.

Let's start with first thing yesterday morning. I can't say I didn't see this coming with all the flirting we've been doing. Astarion propositioned me for sex. He's not at all interested in a real relationship. I reminded him our relationship isn't transactional and he didn't need to repay the favor of my blood for sex. He talked about how I 'obviously' wanted him because I was quivering when he bit me. More like he's been the obvious one, and I shook because it hurt like hell and it was taking everything I had not to cry out, but I let him protect his ego to cushion the rejection. When I turned him down, he told me I was no fun, but he doesn't seem to have any hard feelings about it. I can't just have sex with whoever, whenever. I've never had the luxury of being able to just 'let go' and have sex only for the fun of it with anyone who I felt attracted to. That has always felt unsafe to me, and probably always will. Truthfully, if I could I would have said yes to him. I had no other reason to say no.

We got Karlach an engine upgrade today. I'm glad we met the blacksmith Dammon and he's able and willing to help. Also, those two have some real chemistry. I wonder if either or both of them realize it.

Gale needed another magical item today. This time he said it wasn't working to quell his hunger like before. He seemed frightened.

We made it to the goblin camp. I really try not to be racist but goblins are fucking stupid, disgusting, and barbaric.

It looks like the mother owlbear in the cave didn't make it. I found her cub taken captive at the camp and bargained with a goblin woman to set him free. I hope he can find our camp.

Volothamp Geddarm, of all people, was imprisoned by a goblin woman who called him her 'pigeon'. I watched him floundering to come up with a verse in front of an audience of drunk goblins. I spoke with him in camp tonight, and he had 0 interesting things to say and kept constantly talking over me. A classic mansplainer. Never meet your heroes. Not that he is really my hero. His music really isn't my style, and I don't tend to read fairy tales either. He's more like someone I'm obligated to know about in my profession. Still, color me unimpressed.

We found Halsin at the goblin camp, alive and imprisoned. We helped free him and kill his captors. He knew immediately that I was infected, and that my infection was atypical. He's just as good of a healer as the druids claimed. But he can't cure us either. He does, however, know where to find our cure. Moonrise Towers. He asked us to kill the leaders of the goblin camp to protect his grove. Of course we're doing it. Also, why does every ally I make have to be so hot? IT'S VERY DISTRACTING. If I could find allies that are just average looking or even ugly, or like geriatric, or married, that would be fantastic. I hope Halsin is married. Or who knows, maybe we'll hit it off and I can forget about the dude I really like who I've definitely been hitting on that just fucking ignores me anyway.

Shadowheart has been carrying around a strange artifact this whole time. True to form she was very rude when I asked about it a tenday ago, so I ignored it. Until today. It made its way to me somehow while we were in the goblin camp. I finally heard the voice of this Absolute. It showed me a vision of its chosen, said I should aid in their search for a weapon. The power it wields to make us obey is unlike anything I've ever felt or experienced. The artifact protected us somehow.

I met the three leaders of the goblin camp. These 'True Soul' leaders all had parasites. They think I'm their ally because I'm infected. Minthara referred to me as 'grotesque'. She seems highly intelligent and tough as nails. Priestess Gut is a sadist branding everyone she can get her hands on, but not nearly as powerful as she claims to be. Dror Ragzlin is ambitious, and like all ambitious people, his ambition makes him a narrow-minded moron.

So that was yesterday up until being very sick last night in camp. Late last night Lae'zel snuck up behind me while I was sitting on the ground and put a dagger to my throat. She thought we were transforming, and she was ready to kill me, the others, and then herself. I felt her fear and her doubt, and it didn't take much to convince her to stand down. I wasn't positive we weren't transforming, but I also wasn't ready to die or let anyone else be killed over an assumption. We went to sleep after that.

According to a being that came to me in my dreams, I was sick last night because I really was transforming into a mindflayer. Lae'zel was right, but luckily she didn't kill me or anyone else. This guardian guy, a big, strange-looking, half elf male in fancy armor, says he made me better. Told me I needed to wield the power the parasite has granted me, that I had potential and could 'save us all'. Claimed to be my protector, and that he was fighting 'the enemy'. So purposely vague. Another day, another sales pitch. I don't know if I buy it. Perhaps some of it is true. I remain extremely skeptical.

Gale spoke to me this morning about the visitor in his dream, a supposed 'vision of unparalleled beauty and power'. I am truly annoyed that I felt so jealous upon hearing him say so. He confirmed what I'd suspected about mine. It wasn't a real person.

Everyone had the same dream, with a different guardian. Just when I thought shit could not get any weirder.

Today we attacked the goblin camp.

We went after Minthara first, as she is clearly the most dangerous and capable of the three. She was also closest to where Halsin was imprisoned and there was a scrying eye that would have made subterfuge impossible. When I struck what I'm sure everyone thought was the final blow I deliberately knocked her unconscious rather than killing her. I spared her without telling anyone. I thought about how if I did not have this weird entity or that weird box protecting me from the Absolute, I could be just like she is. I could not bring myself to kill her. I made an emotional decision, and I could definitely come to regret it later. Halsin could hate me for what I did. Minthara would likely kill me for what I did. She is Lolth-sworn drow. This would be utterly humiliating for her if she knew. Maybe she won't know though. The others didn't realize what I'd done. We stripped her while she was unconscious like we would have a corpse. I had a parasite in my bag that I nicked off Nettie's table when no one was looking, and I said it came from Minthara. Maybe her being alive can just be a 'miraculous survival'. I'm hoping the Absolute lost its influence there because of all the followers we murdered, and she can get a chance to be free. And this is yet another reason why I feel like I did something truly dumb: I'm not even sure that's how this works. I could have just condemned her to be a mindflayer and doomed many, or failed to make any change at all to her situation (which means she most certainly could get killed outright for her failure as a leader). I can only really hope for the best and live with the consequences of what I've done, whatever they may be.

I'm getting really tired of having to make all these crucial decisions that not only direct my fate, but also the fates of so many others.

When we pulled the tadpoles from Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, the guardian spoke to me in my mind, encouraged me to absorb their potential. I hesitated, but he promised to protect me, so I consumed it. I don't even know where to start in describing the feeling. To put it simply: weird, cold, uncomfortable, but also good. I feel more powerful, and I'm still myself.

Astarion immediately wanted one for himself, put on a cute pouty face and everything. He's so funny. He could have just asked without the theatrics. However, of course I love the theatrics. We made a deal not long after we met that for any locks he picks on chests he can claim the contents for himself. Anything he keeps or gives away is fully at his discretion, and no one gets a say in that. I give him all the tools and kits to pick locks and disarm traps, and he takes care of that for us. That was the deal. When it comes to picking locks and spotting and disarming traps, he's the best I've ever seen. He makes it look easy. Anyway, I'm bringing this up because I noticed the last few chests he's picked locks to open, he's asked the rest of us if we can make use of some of the things he finds. Today he opened a chest with infernal iron and willingly handed it to Karlach. He could have easily stashed it away and not a one of us would have been the wiser. That metal is worth a lot of coin. He's actually becoming a team player. I'm honestly impressed, he continues to surprise me. I thought at first he would be our biggest liability, but the opposite is true. He's proven himself to be our biggest asset. Naturally, I won't tell him that.

We found the way into the heart of the Selûnite temple the goblins were using for their camp. There's a ladder leading down into a chasm, and it's impossible to see the bottom. It's safe to say we found one way into the Underdark. I think I want to keep looking, because that ladder looks so fucking shady. Could just be my thing with heights though. I fucking hate heights.

Halsin suggested we celebrate tonight, rather than get an early start tomorrow. He reassured me our infection would be unlikely to progress spontaneously. He also doesn't know all of us nearly turned just last night. I hope he's right. I thought it could be really fun to let loose a little, and celebrate what turned out to be quite a victory. Saved the grove, saved the tieflings, freed Halsin, dispersed the Absolutists from this region, AND found another potential path for our cure.

When the party began, I wanted to talk to Gale right away if I'm being honest. But I thought, “Let's make him wait until I've spoken with literally everyone else but him. Let's see if he even notices, approaches me, or says anything about it at all when I speak to him”. Decided to test him. So I've barreled right past coping with his constant subtle rejection of me to being conniving to force him to actually reject me directly. You will never hear me proclaim to be mature or graceful, especially in matters of the heart. If he paid any attention at all, he got to watch nearly every single person I talked to either flirt with me or proposition me. I honestly lost count of how many people propositioned me... someone must have put something in the damn wine. I think Halsin and I were the only people not drinking it. I took a swig of Astarion's and spit it out immediately because it was so gross. Anyway... I made Gale think I was coming towards him halfway through making my way around the party, only to let Volo take me by the arm and whisk me right past him. I caught his eye and sent him the sultriest look I could manage without it being campy. Then I made an ass of myself flirting with Halsin. I don't know if Gale even noticed any of it. He probably didn't. The stupid shit I have pulled to try to get this man to acknowledge me...

When I spoke to him, he finally, finally, fucking finally opened up to me some. He talked about how he'd been living with his condition. Until he was kidnapped, he'd been in isolation for a year, maybe more. I was the first person he'd spent any significant amount of time with. He made some self-deprecating remark about leaving his wits and sensitivity behind in his tower. It took every bit of self-control I had not to just pounce on him. Instead I blurted out an 'I like you' sort of confession. But you know, snazzier than that in the moment because hi, it's me. Gave up on the whole 'done being obvious' thing once again and went right back to being obvious.

He paused before saying, 'Wait, are you...' and then he interrupted himself. Said something about how he'd clearly had too much wine and I not enough... and then proceeded to tell me that getting excited is a bad idea for him because of his condition. 'A conversation best held back for now.'

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGH.

Boy I will prepare a fucking dragon's hoard of magical items for you to consume continuously while we lie together if that's what it takes. I am so frustrated. I want to have this explained to me in a way that actually makes sense. He's fucking hiding something. Something huge. And until now, I was too much of a lovesick puppy to see it. I had to have it thrown in my face for me to notice.

I'm starting to feel like I'm being played. I'm pissed.

So naturally I spend the night with someone else I like. Karlach. And then I friend-zoned her. I said yes to her earlier tonight because I knew what she wanted, and I knew what I was going to do. Worse yet, she wasn't the only person I strung along last night. And why would I do that to someone who would hang the moon for me, who has only ever been kind to me, who is probably the coolest person I've ever met and will ever meet? After all, aren't I the hero goody-two-shoes people pleasing sweet lovely little doll-faced creature everyone thinks I am? I'll tell you exactly why. Because deep down, I'm a fucking asshole, and now I'm getting exactly what I deserve for it. I feel like absolute shit about tonight, and I will for a long time. Probably forever. My guilt and shame are endless.

These are the exact reasons why I always end up alone.

I know I've been emotionally circling the drain for an entire page of writing now. I need to go to bed.

<<< Day 10 | Index | Day 13 >>>

[flowersdaggersviolasandblood]

Blood, Flesh, and Tears

Name: Torment (He/Him)

Race: Zariel Tiefling

Class: Paladin (Oath of Vengence)

Background: Haunted One

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD!

So after getting his ass bit, Torment and the scooby gang (so far it looks like he'll be primarily traveling with Lae'zel, Wyll, and Astarion) met with what seemed to be apprentices of the Absolute cult. Their True Soul friend, Edowin, got got by a Owlbear and perished because of it. Torment has a brief conversation with the two individuals, Andrick & Bryanna, learning that the Absolute chooses individuals to be True Souls to serve as a mouthpiece of her will. She grants these individuals powers to enact her will and that soon they will rule everything.

Now at this point, especially since the Emerald Grove is a bit of a safe spot with very little combat, Torment has been deprived for too long of blood. The desire has grown to extreme lengths and wishes for it to be spilled. But he is not senseless. Since an Owlbear killed their dear friend Edowin, and these apprentices are followers of the Absolute, thus associated with the Goblins, he informs them to "avenge their brother" and go kill the Owlbear. Now, they say they won't do it without his help, but I followed them to the cave and watched them enter, hoping that they're just dead on the other end lol. Besides, there were other important matters at hand.

As stated before, Torment wishes to kill both Kagha and the Goblins. So we started with Kagha. After a brief fight to protect Auntie Ethel (who may or may not be a Hag), the gang was able to find a secret note in the swamps that points to Kagha being in kahoots with Shadow Druids. With this evidence, Torment felt justified in his blood-filled sense of justice to get rid of Kagha.

He brought this evidence back to the inner grove, exposing her in front of Rath. This caused few Shadow Druids to emerge from...Well, the shadows, and attack those that oppose them. With Kagha dead, the Tieflings are now free to live in peace until Torment finishes his bloody path into the Goblin camp and to kill their leaders.

So remember in my last post how he met a musical Tiefling? Well, her name is Alfira!

Despite being discouraged to continue her song and to take up arms, she suddenly came to his camp in the middle of the night asking to join him on his journey.

Although Torment would've pushed that Alfira stay at the grove, he thought it wouldn't hurt to have her tag along. Besides, he has spilled a fair amount of blood to sate him, what with Kagha dead. And he'll have Goblin blood to spill as he paves a path for the Tieflings, so no problem, right?

Oh boy was he wrong lmao. To be honest, I was honestly surprised by this, and not in a disgusted way (since there are some people who who forgot that this is a rated MATURE game and the Panels from Hell clearly stated that the Dark Urge would be a darker story). At first, I was excited to have Alfira join the party, believing that she was one of the few NPCs we could recruit in the same way how Halsin and Minsc can be later recruited. Especially since of all the character classes, we didn't have an official Bard companion aside from the Hirelings.

But then this happened! Torment would wake up from his slumber with Alfira ripped to shreds with a large bloody symbol that surrounds her corpse.

This is only poetically encouraged because my man has a -1 in his Intel lol. Now, Torment has essentially told everyone (save for Gale, rip in piss) that he has this innate desire to harm others. Something everyone kinda brushed off a little, with the expectation that he would be able to control his urges and direct them to more "killable" assets and not themselves and innocents (can't cause too much trouble, you know). And so far, Torment has been doing well, save for killing a few poor animals here and there. He though he was doing well, that he was able to control his hunger for blood and flesh. Only to wake up in the middle of the night with a innocents woman dead and he can't place how or why this happened.

Torment was scared. He has killed, and been bloody brutal about it. But he's only killed those who were "deserving" (bandits, Goblins, animals, and those who were openly hostile to him and his crew), but never an innocent life. He feared what his companions would say, what they would do. He felt embarrassed, shameful, disappointed in himself that he couldn't control himself. So when confronted about his involvement with the corpse of Alfira, Torment lied, pinning her death on a wild boar. And they took the bait!

He shouldn't giggle, he really shouldn't! He should be guilty like a sinner in church! He should be on his knees and openly praying for the gods to strike him down for what he's done. He should come forth and honestly confess that this was his doing. But instead, he felt relief, adrenaline coursing through his body as he got away with this untimely murder. He couldn't help but giggle at his foolish companions and their compliance to believe his awful lie. The thrill of being almost caught, how enticing.

Despite this, Torment would still catch himself and go through a depressive spiral. He needs to figure out what is his deal before he harms more innocents, or worse, his own companions that he has now considered his friends (except for Shadowheart, fuck her).

Not even a few nights after this incident, Torment would meet his...Butler?

Apparently this Goblin, Imp-ass wannabe is Torment's butler, who desires blood as much as Torment does. Despite knowing Torment on a seemingly personal level, he refused to exhume any information about his past. But he gave me a pretty bitchin cape so :D (by the by, those who know Sir Lora from Divinity: Original Sin 2 would know that the same VA did this lil gobbys voice!)

Also, looks like we got ourselves a romance going on!

Originally, I thought it would be Lae'zel for Torment since I do believe that this character would have some sort of affinity for her...But fucking Astarion XD!

Of course, Torment's chances to get that vampy booty was increased after allowing him to suck his blood and even going as far as to protect him from the Gur that came after him.

And after killing Kagha, Astarion stated his interest for Torment, which the poor Tiefling was confused as the concept of love and/or sex has taken a heavy backburner due to recent events. Personally, Torment isn't fully sure if he loves Astarion, and after the incident with Afira getting murked while he was out of it, Torment is scared that the same will happen to Astarion.

But the more his eyes linger, the more the idea of courting and fucking the Elf became more...Desirable. Eventually, Astarion came forth about his Vampire situation and his relationship with Cazador

When Astarion first met Cazador, it was when he was lying in his own blood after being assaulted by monster hunters (also known as Gur in a derogatory way). As he was nearly dying, Cazador showed up and turned him into his Spawn, and has tormented the pale Elf for 200 years since. Now that Astarion is no longer wrapped around his finger, there's a chance that the Vampire Lord is hoping to steal Astarion back.

EventuallyI get a near sex scene between Astarion and Torment. Astarion expresses his interest and Torment is at first unsure, his recent fears after the Afira incident still fresh on his mind. At first, Torment believes he's ready to take that step forward, but when he saw Astarion half naked, his mind immediately went to dark places, and not the sexy kinda. Immediately, Torment called it off, his fears overpowering his desires.

[semi-decoffinated]

👀 well go on. share those paragraphs with the rest of the class.

Well alright, seeing as you asked quite nicely. I’ll oblige~

I’ll begin with Mael, the strange and stubborn Druid. There were rumours that he had perished in the morning after the whole veil debacle. Which was… An interesting time, I suppose. Perhaps not for all the most comforting reasons, but there were certainly reasons in any case. Anyway, I wonder if that went some way to mellowing the zealotic fire in the old man’s belly. I surmise that his response to it was to be expected to an extent. After all, his mortal life was devoted to religion. He was devoted to the Grove they called home, and to the Blood Gods it served as a prison and a palace both. Stoic as the priest may seem, guarded even, there is something about Mael that leaves you quite unable to forget him. I don’t know if that is because his manner is compelling, or it is his age that makes it so.

I cannot imagine how one such as him would traverse the passage of time with its comings and goings of religion and custom. Much like the inner workings of that Grove, Mael is a mystery and I would like to ask him far too many questions that I’m sure he would be loath to answer. I wonder how he felt following Marius’s escape, and how he felt staring down the barrel of eternity at the behest of his fellow priests, how he felt making the journey from Gaul to England to find his would-be maker only to have Avicus abandon him in Constantinople with Zenobia at his side a millennia after their arrival.

And furthermore, I find his relationship to Marius even more terribly interesting. There’s an awkward and often unwilling comradery, it carries undertones of rage and loyalty and jealousy and… Perhaps even a true and honest friendship that neither man would admit to. Much like the man himself. 

And what of Avicus, his maker? A last living relic of Akasha’s cult down in Egypt all those millenia ago, the sought out Blood God. Clever and learned Avicus, beguiled by the stories given to him by Marius de Romanus and given a new spark to educate himself. To learn as much as he could about the new centuries he now found himself in. Avicus who wanted freedom from his Oak prison, and who ultimately found it in the libraries of the world… Gentle, well spoken Avicus.

He had a wonderful and soothing quality about him, one that could even dispel Mael’s anger rather quickly and even compassionately. I believe that to be an admirable skill in any individual, to act as mediator and do so in a very effective manner is a wonderful trait. I can only imagine how others must have responded to such a warm presence in his mortal years. I would have liked to learn more of him, perhaps even meet with him should he still be roaming this earth which I believe him to be.

[karlachllover]

amanita companion profile

yes i made a profile for my tav as if she were a companion. the brainrot (hah) is severe. she is a half wood elf circle of spores druid. it is long i love her. anyway more people should do this its fun :)

backstory

became very ill as a child, her parents took her to many local healers and found one wise woman that was able to cure the illness but only when amanita was living with her. she was raised by the wise woman with occasional contact with her parents until some point in her teens. she discovered the wise woman was actually the source of her illness and things got Worse. eventually she fled and found a druidic circle to take her in. they stabilised her illness with regular medicine & magic. girl's got fungus in her blood. she now believes the woman was a hag and has a sworn hatred of them all for the violation.

values:

generally pro-nature, anti-hag, anti-dangerous bargains, pro helping others get out of said bargains, often has contradictory opinions on the undead (her 'natural' undead mushroom zombies vs balthazar's 'unnatural' flesh golem & ghouls). a big thing for her is being considered an equal to her friends, so she would disapprove of astarion's ascension & gale's attempt at godhood bc she feels like they leave her behind. she would also leave ur party with wyll and karlach if you side with the goblins in act 1.

opinion on the tadpoles: absolutely hates that someone else has put something in her body without her permission and that she cannot remove. seething with anger at the violation. is relieved the tadpole has prevented her infection from taking hold without her medicine but truly hates the loss of control she feels because of it

approves:

defeating auntie ethel | saving anabella | being supportive of alfira | telling the bluejay his nest looks good | positive scratch + owlbear interactions | saving halsin | freeing the grymforge gnomes | bringing spaw nere's head | drinking omeluum's potion | talking to the ancient rothe | placing flowers on that dog's grave in the underdark | exposing BOOOAL as a fake god | killing balthazar (bonus if its before finding the nightsong!) | freeing the pixie | drinking jaheira's wine after discovering what's in it | defending astarion's choice to araj | releasing wyll from his contract | helping mayrina in act 3 | asking for a poly relationship with halsin (druids4druids) | helping the strange ox | freeing Us the second time you meet it | positive interaction with the spore guy at the society of brilliance | saving omeluum

disapproves:

stealing the idol of silvanus | killing the owlbear mother | making any deal with auntie ethel | any negative interaction with the myconids (except glut) | stealing from temples | accepting any deal with raphael | pushing gale towards godhood | pushing astarion towards ascension | telling wyll to sell his soul to mizora | encouraging shadowheart to kill nightsong | selling nightsong out to lorroakan | absorbing more tadpoles | trusting the emperor too much

special dialogue locations

when the illusion is broken in the bog | after defeating ethel (no bargain struck) | upon first encountering the myconids | just before leaving the underdark via elevator | after meeting both halsin and jaheira (druids4ever) | after killing balthazar but before finding the nightsong | upon talking to the spores guy at the society of brilliance lodge

recruitment:

amanita can be found in the blighted village, having set out to find halsin after visiting the grove before your party. she is trying to convince some goblins to let her past. if you don't pick her up here (and don't destroy the grove), she can be found in the underdark, distracted by rare mushrooms.

companion quest: mushrooms on the brain (this stuff is hazy but is how i imagine her narrative arc :))

feels the call of some unknown rot/decay deity but tries to balance it with silvanus' teachings. her internal battle is decay for its own sake vs decay in order to create life & wielding power over the circle of life vs submitting to it.

the crux is the decision to eat the heart of the hag that infected her or not; unlike most companions, she needs to be actively persuaded to take this darker path. left to decide by herself, she will not eat the heart. if persuaded to eat the heart, she will express regret at the last minute before the transformation happens, but will be unable to stop it.

[wyldblunt]

hi im ira and this is my gw2 sideblog!

adult | it/she/he | 🔞 18+ only please 🔞

likes/follows/replies will come from @baph0meat , more art at @iraprince which is essentially my main

i mention my wife a lot bc we love making ocs together and most of our lore is intertwined. she’s not on tumblr, but just fyi, her name’s marina and she uses she/they/he pronouns!

NAVIGATION:

⭐ my art - what it says on the tin

⭐ others ocs - also what it says on the tin. browse some beautiful blorbos

⭐ my ocs and marina ocs are mostly just little organizational heads-up tags, since i post about his ocs just as often as mine; i usually only bother throwing this on art, not text posts

⭐ oc notebook - non-art posts abt my + my wife’s ocs, general rambles

⭐ oc aes - aesthetic/shitpost reblogs assigned to characters. posts for canon characters may sometimes be carelessly hit w this tag

⭐ answers - responses to ask games/questions; ones with art will additionally be tagged drawn answers

characters are tagged by name; [character]/[character] or a combined ship name is for ship dynamics, [character] + [character] is for platonic/friendship dynamics. spoilers will be tagged with abbreviations (i.e. “EoD spoilers,” “LWS4 spoilers,” etc)

⭐ character list below cut: ⭐

UNDER CONSTRUCTION, eventually i’ll have a cut with a proper illustrated oc directory here but for now here’s a bunch of direct links to characters i talk about a lot for quick access. 💛 means my oc, 💙 means marina’s oc!

THE BIG RELATIONSHIP CHART

(moooostly up to date, missing a few new courtiers/our charr and current art)

MAIN PLOT:

💛 glyndwr (my commander) - bitchy edgy ex-nightmare deadeye (previously the knight of deceit). insists he doesn’t want to be doing any of this save-the-world shit but also refuses to step down. merrit’s mentor/adoptive father. gender=mean old homosexual, he/him

💙 alan (marina’s commander) - radiant vigil posterboy (who is getting tired of being the posterboy). guardian, champion of aurene, hero of tyria, steadily splintering under the pressure. lorelei’s mentor. gender=battle angel, he/they

💛 lorelei - lieutenant commander. ambitious but naive vigil druid, formerly a tournament jockey from the grove. dragonslayer on a lacrosse scholarship. cute and kind, but often tactless; always dreamed of a life of adventure and has now kind of bitten off more than they can chew. gender=lesbian, they/he (+occasional she)

💙 merrit - lieutenant commander. miserable wet neurotic ex-courtier. once a spy for nightmare, fled and ended up under glyn’s wing. has shaken off a lot of the Evil, but not the aesthetics. midwest emo dyke transplanted into high fantasy. virtuoso. gender=lesbian, any pronouns

💛 viper squad - consists of daimhin (chronomancer, they/she/occasional he), damage (harbinger, she/her), and donner (daredevil, he/him) in addition to merrit. glyndwr’s personal task force (the guys who show up when he pops the ‘thieves guild’ elite skill). each is extremely annoying in their own special way.

💛The Dog - glyn’s dog. he refuses to name it because it doesn’t need a name to respond to commands. canach has named her pepper. alan has named her soot. merrit calls her ‘buddy’ but is too nervous to actually impose a name on her. donner has named her gamble. damage has named her Vice-Commander Big Fuck

COURTIERS

💛 callas - count of malice, spymaster, tempest. previously had authority over glyndwr, and later merrit; has gone absolutely apeshit with vindictive rage now that they’ve both escaped. building a new faction of the court in the power vacuum post-HoT. she/he, occasional they

💙 lisk - captain of the vanguard, berserker. once served under leurent, count of blood, but got bored of him and obsessed with callas, and helped her overthrow his former master. has some extremely Out There opinions (such as believing the dragons are inherent allies of nightmare). tirelessly helping her mistress hunt down court deserters. gender=lesbian, any pronouns, leans she/he

💛 fidelma - callas’ personal squire + bodyguard. extremely strange. seemingly chipper, but with a yawning emptiness behind it all. it is deeply loyal to callas, but even more loyal to nightmare, and will choose chaos (even if it inconveniences its liege) over anything else 9 times out of 10. believes nightmare is already the natural order of things and that the court shouldn’t have to put this much effort to spread it. it/she

💛 sorcha - vanguard hound, warrior. dipshit mean girl jock who just wants attention, but will settle for bullying everyone around her instead. desperately in love with lisk, and was perfectly content to share her with everyone until callas began entirely monopolizing her attention. she/he/they

💙 sigvas - scout/archer, under rhys until post-HoT, then afloat in the schism. a poisoner/alchemist (cough cough party drug synthesiser) who WANTS to be the game-of-thrones master manipulator of the court but is too busy freaking the fuck out, both /pos and /neg, over their own reflection. desperately in love with lisk. they/them

💙 tarahnis - scout/beastmaster, under rhys until post-HoT, then afloat in the schism. a ranger/thorn hound trainer who does his nightmare duties with an unusual amount of relaxed optimism. just here for a good time. desperately in love with lisk, but also wants to surpass her. he/they

💛 rue - squire/provisioner, in service of rhys’ scouting squads until HoT, then afloat in the schism. a weird little himejoshi who is just happy to be creeping around admiring all the nightmare knights that surround them. does not dream of advancing in the court at all, just of kind of skittering around and polishing everyone’s armor and sniffing their clothes. desperately in love with sorcha, sigvas, and tarahnis. they/he/she

(sorcha, sigvas, tara, + rue are all gender=sapphic and are collectively referred to as The Problemcule.)

FLOATERS/NON-PLOT-ADJACENT

💛 clooney - secondborn pirate, with the jackdaws. mechanically a ranger but in lore has no specific profession. believes that the only way to counteract the pain and horror that filters into the dream through life’s experiences is to devote oneself to having as much fun as possible before you die; takes this extremely seriously. has a side gig smuggling people to safety from tight situations (ex-courtiers, pact deserters, etc). eventually becomes alan’s lover. he/him, but he’ll use any pronouns for fun

💙 rhys - (technically could go up with the nightmare courtiers, but he’s not part of the same group as all the above ones.) a nightmare count disgusted with what the court has become, frustrated with the way it’s been entirely derailed by vanity and internal politics and mindless violence. after fighting mordremoth, decides to form a splinter faction of the court on his own. gender=lesbian, he/they.

💛 bowyn - part-time actor, full-time con artist, professional babe. mesmer. though they insist they’re “strictly non-political,” they become involved with rhys and end up traveling with him and his new court. secretly feels deeply guilty about the fact that they had absolutely no involvement with the fight against mordremoth. they/he/she

💙 gann - a courtier in name only; you probably could not name the last time he actually did anything useful for nightmare. mostly entrenched in the court just as a criminal career choice. an expert at slacking off. he/him, but it’s not like he cares

💛 naoise - completely empty-headed pit fighter. a gladitorial prodigy who can barely count; they are so dumb that they don’t even realize that they’re a revenant, because the legends they’re channeling can’t even get enough foothold in their raisin-sized brain to speak to them. their gorgeous face and hollow skull have bewitched gann body and soul, and the two of them travel aimlessly around tyria, making shitloads of money and contributing nothing useful to anyone else ever. bliss. they/them

💙 cadair - a valiant of the wild hunt, whose dream is entwined with maelduin’s. woke two years later than maelduin did, meaning their dream has given them much more information about their fated partner, while maelduin knows almost nothing about them. enormous, gentle-hearted, but self-conscious about the fact that the dream has equipped them with everything they need to be a knight/hero but very little else. revenant. any pronouns, leans he/they

💛 maelduin - a valiant of the wild hunt, whose dream is entwined with cadair’s. woke two years before cadair, knowing only that they would one day need to protect him. while they waited for him, they became a mentor, while also becoming deeply preoccupied with death and medicine. specter. any pronouns, leans they/them

💛 benji daywaste - formerly an iron legion engineer, but hazed so badly over her infamous sire that she was transferred to ash legion. hangs out with the goths now. grumpy about all of it, even though he’s enthusiastic about his work. gender=lesbian, she/he/they

💙 roddar wastesteel - ash legion thief who lacks the temperament to match his position. easygoing, keeping his chin up despite the loss of his warband -- benji is the first addition in rebuilding. (’wastesteel’ was a joke name suggested by benji due to how often he fucks up the equipment she makes for him, but it stuck, and now they’re the waste warband.) gender=lesbian, he/him

SHIPS:

glynach (glyndwr/canach)

merrilei

alanglyn

callisk

alan/clooney

bowyn/rhys

gann/naoise

problemcule

cadair/maelduin

benji/roddar

(i do not generally follow the “top/bottom” ship tagging convention; to keep things consistent/easy to remember i mostly just tag in alphabetical order. sometimes i might forget or tag things inconsistenly and stray posts will get lost out of these tags lol)

[rpgsandbox]

Welcome to Britannia and Beyond!

A regional guide for the Cthulhu Invictus™ setting detailing the province of Britannia, and the barbarian lands of Caledonia and Hibernia

‘Britannia is the border, the furthest outpost of Empire, bounded by cruel Oceania on all sides… what lies beyond that border, what crosses and passes unseen… those things concern me more than any barbarian tribe, more than any army of men… yes, you are right to worry about approaching that border, for what waits in Britannia and beyond… is said to be the doom of Rome.’ – Vatia of Rhodes, 54 AD

The earliest accounts of Briton the Romans saw were from Greek writers, such as Horace, who wrote ‘the shores of the distant Britons’ lay where ‘the real world came to an end and the world of unknown peoples and mythical creatures began.’ To even approach those shores, Horace writes, the Romans would have to cross ‘the stream of Oceanus, filled with large numbers of sea-monsters.’ And so, the island remained a complete mystery, shrouded in shadow and fog.

But eventually the expanding Roman Empire crossed that ocean, and through hard battles and bitter campaigns enveloped Britannia into its borders. Today (96 CE to 180 CE) the province of Britannia is a place of contradictions, a clash of peoples, cultures, and ideologies. It is a land marked by conquest and brutal oppression, but also by peace, productivity, and great progress. Its citizens enjoy prosperity and health, but to most Romans Britons are still seen as unwashed and uncivilized barbarians, the ‘Britunculli’ or ‘nasty little Britons.’ It is a land, and a people, who are slowly forming a new identity, often at odds with themselves.  

But there is another truth, another history: one that predates human existence which is unseen by all except a chosen few. The Shadow War. Humanity’s battle against alien gods, their servitor monsters, and the depraved humans who serve them both or exploited them for personal gain, has raged on for millennia. For centuries, this war in Britannia was mostly contained, the dark forces kept dormant through a combination of rituals, ancient magics, and powerful seals erected over the doors of various mystical prisons.

But the coming of the Romans and their Empire changed all that. With the destruction of the druids and their faith, a darkness long kept at bay is now returning. Spells and rituals are no longer performed, protective groves have been burned, sacred stones toppled, and the prison doors to many dark gods now stand open. These entities seek to spread their dark influence, from the new “colony” cities and wealthy villas to the simplest villages of thatch roof huts and century old farms, from the most powerful elite to the lowliest of slaves. Nowhere and no one is safe from their vile machinations.

This misty, mysterious island is the latest front line of the Shadow War. At the edge of the Empire, a new history waits to be written: one of adventure, but also madness, of glory, but also unspeakable horror. Welcome to Britannia and Beyond.

Three years and five Kickstarters ago we were lucky enough to bring Cthulhu Invictus back to the world of Call of Cthulhu, updating it for 7th Edition. That book proved to be quite difficult and time consuming, but the end result proved worth all the effort. We are deeply proud and grateful that it was honored with the 2019 Silver ENnie for Best Supplement at Gencon.

We caught our breath to play with some cats (Tails of Valor), make a stand for justice (An Inner Darkness), and remember our childhood (The Lovecraft Country Holiday Collection), but through it all, we planned our return to the setting we hold so dear. That time has come at last. The Shadow War never ends, and dark things stir on this rainy island on the edge of the known world. It’s time to set sail for Britannia and Beyond!

The scholar Zosimos, Lady Dexia of the Vestal Virgins, and the centurion Galarius Rufus along with his loyal hound Brita sail towards Portus Dubris, and the misty, mysterious province of Britannia. For Brita, the war dog, this is a homecoming of sorts.

For our first setting book for Cthulhu Invictus, Britannia was an obvious choice. With the rich, often tragic, history of the Roman conquest and colonization of Britannia, the fascinating cultural and social results of the blending of so many diverse cultures, and the enchanting folklore of the ancient Celts… one might ask, how could we NOT start with Britannia? From the Roman baths at, well, Bath, to the Antonine (and yes, Hadrian’s) Wall(s) in the north, from Stonehenge, to London (or is that Londinium?), Tír na nÓg and the Sidhe, the savage Picts of Caledonia in the north and bloodthirsty Hibernian raiders from across the western sea, to the dark tapestry of Great Old Ones connected with Britain (especially its Severn Valley). The attraction to delve into these things and create a version of what Britannia is like in the world of Cthulhu Invictus was completely irresistible. So, here we are!

This well researched and comprehensive guide will provide keepers everything they need to take their Cthulhu Invictus campaign to the province of Britannia, and possibly beyond. The book covers:

1. A detailed history of Britannia, from pre-history to the end of the Antonine Period of the Roman Empire (180 CE).

2. Details on Britannia’s climate, geography, natural resources, and economy.  

Today, the streets of a rebuilt Londinium look much like any other provincial capital in the Empire, maybe a bit cloudier than most.

3. Information on the Roman government, including the military legions stationed there, including both past and current client kingdoms.

4. Tips for creating characters living in Britannia, from Roman settlers, to Romano-Celtic natives (Latinized natives), and native Celts, with a list of Celtic names and gender-naming conventions.

Our heroes and heroines arrive at the home of Veldicius, an old friend of Galarius Rufus from their days serving with the Legio XX, many years ago.

5. A guide to the province of Britannia by region, describing its distinct cultural outlook, the tribes native to the region (and their attitudes towards Rome), important cities and towns, notable sites, sinister seeds, mythos threats, and more.

Paying a courtesy visit to (and seeking advice from) Queen Caratacae of the Dobunni, ruler of one of the few remaining client kingdoms of Britannia.

6. Information on the religion, folklore, myths, magic, temples, and sacred sites associated with Britannia, including Druidism and new rules for creating Druid characters.

7. A collection of patrons, investigator organizations, and sinister cults located across Britannia.

8. The Britannia Bestiary, a listing of the native plants and animals, as well as mythos entities drawn from traditional folklore viewed through cosmic horror colored glasses.

The wilds of Britannia can be a dangerous place, with forests old and dark, where older and darker things lurk.

9. The Dark Gods of Britannia, a discussion of the most iconic Great Old Ones and Outer Gods found across the province, including Eihort, Gla'aki, Y’golonac, Byatis, Yegg-Ha, The Keeper of the Moon Lens, and more.  

Britannia is home to many dark and dangerous gods, and since the coming of the Romans, the powers of those gods are not only growing, but spreading.

10. A discussion of The Dreamlands, Tír na nÓg, and the mysterious Sidhe.

11. A listing of new mythos tomes, magical artifacts, and spells.  

New Roman roads are only a good idea if they avoid places no one should ever go. Getting the engineers and bureaucrats to change their "well laid out plans" is seldom an easy task.

12. Beyond the Wall and Across the Sea: the barbarian lands of Caledonia (Scotland) and Hibernia (Ireland), detailing their people, the conditions there, and the rules for creating characters from these far off lands.  

Walls alone won't protect the Empire from its enemies, human and otherwise. Sometimes, it take courage, steel, arrows, and a fair amount of blood!

13. A pair of scenarios set in Britannia, allowing Keepers and players to dive right into daring and horrifying adventures in this misty land on the edge of the empire.

A Mortal Harvest by Oscar Rios - Shortly before harvest, three villages of the Ordovices suddenly abandon their homes and head towards the city of Viroconium. The investigators must delve into this refugee crisis and get the Ordovices to return to their homes and bring in their crops, lest they face starvation come winter. The Ordovices are too terrified to do so because of a mysterious figure singing haunting ballads under the cover of night. He strums upon a harp, singing a tale of an army of the dead serving a dark god, and warning of their impending doom should they remain.

The Long Dark by Oscar Rios - Just south of the Antonine Wall, in the village of Trimontium, an old friend needs help. An old army buddy, Caito Lupis, retired from the legions and settled down. He's gotten married and begun farming on the land given to him in return for his 25 years of service. At least, that's what he's trying to do. For the Romans, it is time to harvest, but for the natives it's a sacred time, the start of their New Year, a time when ghoulies and ghosties and long legged beasties are free to enter our world. It seems that some of these creatures are set on ruining your friend's harvest and driving him off his land.

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Kickstarter campaign ends: Mon, April 13 2020 5:00 AM BST

Website: [Golden Goblin Press] [facebook] [twitter]

[thevampiremariusderomanus]

Alphebettery- Marius Entry

Marius is the noble heart of the vampire clans. His sense of honor and duty guides him through every age. He is the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept and the sharer of vampire secrets with Lestat, who reveals those secrets in the twentieth-century, causing Akasha to rise for the last time and incite the Great Burning of 1985.

Marius de Romanus was born in 30BC, the illegitimate son of a Roman nobleman and a Celtic slave-woman, in the city of Massilia (modern-day Marseille, France), in the Roman Empire along the Mediterranean Sea between Spain and Italy. As he matures into manhood, Marius becomes a scholar and a traveler throughout the Roman Empire. In his mid-twenties, he meets his future fledgling Pandora (then named Lydia), and he desires to marry her, although his proposal is ultimately rejected by her father because she is too young. Almost two decades later, Marius is kidnapped by Mael and other Druids, who take him to the ancient vampire Teskhamen, whom they refer to as the God of the Grove. Badly burned and weakened by the Great Burning of 4 CE, Teskhamen turns Marius into a vampire through a very long process of blood exchanges, with the expectation that Marius will travel to Egypt to discover the fate of Akasha and Enkil, the first to be made.

Marius escapes the Druids and flees through the woodlands of the Celts. He travels to Egypt, where he finds the Elder who cares for Akasha and Enkil, now called Those Who Must Be Kept, since their great age has transformed them into unresponsive statues. The Elder lies when, in response to Marius’s questions, states he does not know the cause of the Great Burning, but Akasha speaks to Marius telepathically and informs him the Elder set them in the sun and that he is planning to sink them to the bottom of the ocean. Akasha then kills the Elder, and Marius takes her and Enkil out of Egypt to Antioch, where he reencounters his mortal beloved, Lydia, whose family was murdered, and as a result she is living in exile under the name Pandora.

Also in Antioch appears the ancient vampire Akbar, who, like Marius’s maker, Teskhamen, is badly burned. Seeking to drink from the Mother and the Father, Akbar learns that Marius is their caretaker and that he loves the mortal Pandora. Akbar drains Pandora to the point of death and threatens to kill her if Marius does not let him drink Akasha’s blood. Marius acquiesces and saves Pandora by turning her into a vampire, but when Marius brings Akbar to Akasha, the Queen destroys Akbar. Marius and Pandora remain together for the net two hundred years, caring for Those Who Must Be Kept.

When Pandora begins living with her maker, she brings her one-legged Athenian slave, Flavius, to serve them. Marius grows to deeply love Flavius. When Flavius becomes deathly ill, Pandora thinks they should turn him into a vampire. Marius refuses, but Pandora does so anyway. Marius is greatly angered and exiles Flavius from his house and from the Roman Empire itself. Her disobedience plants a seed of bitterness between Marius and Pandora. He has a great desire to teach her, but she refuses to learn from him. When he can no longer live with that or their arguing, he takes Akasha and Enkil from Pandora and will not see his fledgling beloved for many centuries.

Marius returns to Rome, where he encounters the ancient vampire Avicus, who is—like Teskhamen—a God of the Grove, but in ancient England. Marius is greatly amazed to also encounter Avicus’s fledgling Mael, the former Druid who held Marius captive for Teskhamen and was sent to Avicus to take Marius’s place as the new God of the Grove, Teskhamen’s successor. Despite the fact that Marius begrudges Mael for forcing him to become a vampire, Marius and Avicus become friends. As the three of them begin living together in a small coven, Avicus and Mael soon learn Marius’s secret, that he is the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept, and they willingly help him fulfill his duties.

At the fall of Rome, Marius, Avicus, and Mael move to Constantinople, where they continue their duties for the Mother and the Father. They discover another coven dwells in the city, led by Eudoxia, the fledgling of the ancient Egyptian vampire, Cyril, who is the fledgling of Marius’s predecessor, the Elder. Referring to herself as “the Vampire Empress,” Eudoxia demands to see Akasha and Enkil, but Marius refuses. With her coven of Rashid, Asphar, and Zenobia, Eudoxia attacks Marius, at which point Marius discovers that, because he has been drinking Akasha’s powerful blood, he is stronger than Eudoxia, even though she is much older. He also discovers that he has the Fire Gift when he burns Rashid to ashes. Eudoxia returns later, showing greater humility and imploring Marius to let her see Akasha. Marius reluctantly agrees, but when she stands before the Queen, she is so enraptured that she offers herself as a sacrifice. Akasha arises and drinks from Eudoxia to the point of death. Although Marius saves her, Eudoxia is greatly embittered. In a plot against Marius and Those Who Must Be Kept, Eudoxia kills a nobleman and leaves the body exposed in such a way that the mortal citizens of Constantinople blame Marius for the death. The mortals ransack Marius’s house and nearly destroy the shrine. Enraged by this, Marius goes to Eudoxia’s house, destroys her coven, sparing only Zenobia, and then drags Eudoxia before Akasha, who immolates Eudoxia to ashes.

Marius leaves Avicus and Mael and takes Akasha and Enkil back to Italy. He creates a secluded shrine for Akasha and Enkil in the Italian Alps, unreachable by any mortal at that time, where the vampires can rest safely while he makes a home in Venice.

He becomes a painter and a patron of the arts. He invites many young boys to live in his house to learn the artistic crafts.

Marius soon encounters the mortal courtesan Bianca Solderini. While feeling a deep attraction to her physical beauty, he marvels how her mortal mental ability prevents him from reading her thoughts. His attraction to her sours when he learns that she is a murderer. But when he uncovers that a merciless relative is extorting her to assassinate his enemies, Marius’s attraction is rekindled and he resolves to give her his powerful aid.

Marius also encounters the mortal Raymond Gallant, a member of the Talamasca Order, who provides him with news about Pandora and how the vampire from India is manipulating her, yet their whereabouts are still a mystery. Raymond promises to keep Marius informed if the Talamasca discovers any new information.

During that time, the vampire Santino, leader of the Children of Satan, introduces himself to Marius. He reads Marius’s mind, learns of Akasha and Enkil, and requests a meeting with Those Who Must Be Kept. Marius denies him, finding his Satan-worshipping coven abhorrent. When Santino insists, Marius threatens to destroy him; Santino withdraws but watches from a distance the keeper of Those Who Must Be Kept.

Marius eventually finds a mortal child from Russia, Andrei, who will later become the Vampire Armand. Andrei was abducted by Tartars and is now locked in the dungeon of a brothel. Marius buys the young Andrei, renames him Amadeo, and brings him to live in his palazzo. Marius and Amadeo develop a deep relationship. Amadeo doesn’t learn that Marius is a vampire until the night Marius saves Bianca from her extorting relative and his malicious family. Amadeo begs Marius to turn him into a vampire, but Marius refuses. In an attempt to incite Marius’s jealousy, Amadeo begins a brief affair with the Englishman Lord Harlech. When Amadeo ends the relationship, Lord Harlech storms into Marius’s palazzo in a jealous rage, armed with a poison blade, and duels with Amadeo. Amadeo slays him, but Lord Harlech mortally wounds the boy. Bianca nurses Amadeo until Marius arrives. When Bianca leaves, Marius turns him into a vampire.

Marius and Amadeo live happily together as maker and fledgling, both developing deep feelings for Bianca, until Santino and his Satanic coven invade Marius’s home, kill most of the boys, set Marius on fire, and kidnap Amadeo. Severely wounded, Marius mentally summons Bianca and receives her permission to turn her into a vampire. She takes him to Akasha and Enkil’s shrine in the Alps, where Marius drinks Akasha’s blood.

While his health is restored, Bianca, like Pandora before her, helps Marius care for Those Who Must Be Kept. When his wounds more fully heal and he can walk about among mortals, he goes to Raymond Gallant, who is now an old man and who informs Marius that the Talamasca have learned that the mysterious Indian vampire is still controlling Pandora and that they are likely living near Dresden.

Marius takes Bianca, Akasha, and Enkil to Dresden, where he finally reunites with Pandora and discovers that her companion and fledgling, Arjun, is not keeping her against her will after all. Marius begs Pandora to return to him, vowing that he will leave Bianca if she will leave Arjun, but Pandora rejects him and leaves. Bianca overhears Marius and leaves him also.

Nearly fifty years later, when Marius is packing up his belongings to take Akasha and Enkil to another region, he uncovers a note left by Pandora on the night they separated, asking him to find her in Moscow and help her leave Arjun. Marius immediately goes to Moscow, but by then she has already left. He can find no trace of either her or her fledgling lover.

Marius brings Those Who Must Be Kept to an island in the Aegean Sea, somewhere between Greece and Turkey. He remains there for years, caring for the people living on the island, until one night he begins hearing the voice of a young vampire searching for him, calling to him— the vampire Lestat. Hearing Lestat’s persistence, Marius leaves his island and finds that Lestat has buried himself underground after his fledgling Nicolas committed suicide and his fledgling mother, Gabrielle, abandoned him. Marius exhumes Lestat, revives him with his own ancient vampire blood, and then takes him back to his island sanctuary. After Lestat awakens, Marius shares some of his history with him, tells him about Those Who Must Be Kept, and swears him to absolute secrecy. When Marius briefly leaves, Lestat goes to the shrine and plays the violin for Akasha. Moved by his bravado, Akasha awakens, drinks his blood, and lets him drink hers also. Full of jealousy and anger, Enkil awakens and attempts to destroy Lestat. Fortunately, Marius saves him, but warns Lestat to leave to let Enkil’s anger diminish. Before Lestat can return, Marius takes Akasha and Enkil to a new hidden location in the frozen lands of northern Canada.

He fills their shrine with every new technology, partly to show them human development but also partly in the hope that they will awaken for him. By the time of the late twentieth century, Akasha and Enkil watch on television how Lestat has returned with new rock music in a successful band that is revealing secrets of vampires and challenging Those Who Must Be Kept to arise. Impressed once again, Akasha rises from her throne for a final time. She kills Enkil and buries Marius deep beneath several tons of ice. He projects out mental warnings to the other vampires that the Queen has arisen, but she is already flying throughout the world, immolating most of her vampire children. When he is finally freed from the ice by Pandora and Santino, he rendezvouses with many other vampires, including his fledglings Pandora and Armand, at the compound in the Sonoma Mountains belonging to Akasha’s mortal enemy, the ancient vampire Maharet. After Maharet informs Marius and the others of her version of the story of the Queen of the Damned and the Legend of the Twins, Akasha appears and offers them a choice of joining her cause for global domination as her servants, or perishing. Marius stands with Maharet and refuses to serve. So do all the others, including Lestat. They all fight against Akasha, but she is indomitable. In the end, Maharet’s twin, Mekare, suddenly appears, beheads Akasha, consumes her brain and heart, and takes into herself the spirit of Amel, to become the new Queen of the Damned.

Now that Marius is no longer the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept, he keeps closer contact with other vampires, especially Armand’s fledgling Daniel Molloy, who sinks into madness and bitterness towards Armand. Marius welcomes Daniel into his home, takes care of him, and helps restore his sanity; and in doing so, Marius finds a wonderful companion who also helps him make contact with the modern world.

Marius mourns when, after Lestat returns from his journey with Memnoch the Devil, Armand appears to commit suicide, but Marius’s mourning turns to joy when Armand reappears a few months later, having been saved with the help of two mortals, Sybelle and Benji. Marius decides to do Armand a favor and turn Sybelle and Benji into vampires to give Armand excellent immortal companions and also to protect them from mortals seeking to destroy Armand or any vampire. In the beginning, this greatly angers Armand, but Marius and Daniel both convince him that if Armand had turned them into vampires, they would have been weaker than him, the telepathic connection between them would have been lost, and they would have ended up hating him, the way Daniel had; but when Marius’s powerful blood in them, Benji and Sybelle are Armand’s equals.

Following this, when Marius is alone one night, he hears another vampire whom he has never encountered using the Mind Gift to send out a telepathic invitation to any vampire for friendship. Marius responds and meets Thorne, an eighth-century Viking made vampire by Maharet.

Marius and Thorne tell each other their histories. Marius is surprised to learn how Maharet abandoned Thorne for Mael, and Thorne is enraged at how Santino’s injustice towards Marius has gone unpunished. Marius advises Thorne against Thorne against seeking revenge against Maharet for rejecting him, but sensing that Thorne will not be dissuaded, Marius sends Maharet a telepathic warning. Marius and Thorne go to sleep that morning in Marius’s home but awaken the next night at Maharet’s Java compound. Much to their mutual surprise, Santino, is also there as Maharet’s guest. Out of a sense of honor and duty, Marius begs Maharet for vengeance for the wrongs that Santino did against him and Armand, but Maharet does not allow it. Knowing that Marius will not act without Maharet’s permission, Thorne does Marius a favor and exacts an old Viking custom of wergild—or exacting a “man’s price,” often taking a life for a life—and blasts Santino with his powerful Mind Gift until Santino is a bloody pulp. Thorne then uses the Fire Gift to burn Santino’s remains to a charred scorch on the ground. Everyone is equally surprised at Thorne’s behavior, especially Marius, who, although he would never be so bold as to disobey Maharet, smiles and nods at Thorne, showing his inexpressible gratitude.

Marius relocates to the Chateau de Lioncourt, where Lestat becomes the Prince of the vampire race. The Court of the Prince forms, and Marius is one of the most prominent figures. Arjun challenges Marius’s authority by attacking him, but he easily destroys Arjun. Prompted by this event, Marius creates new laws for vampires in the new millennium and helps guide the formation of this new Court, inspiring Prince Lestat to dub him the “Prime Minister” of all vampires.

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Atlas Rose AGE & BIRTH DATE. 29 & June 16th, 1992 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He / Him SPECIES. Fury of Alecto OCCUPATION. Co-Owner of Woven FACE CLAIM. Chris Wood

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: violence, death ) In the temperate rainforests of the Pacific Northwest, a nomadic and matriarchal coven birthed a pair of twins. Born first was Atlas, and soon after came his brother, Aegon. Descended from a long line of Celtic Druids who could trace their lineage from the West, to the Witch Trials of Massachusetts, all the way to the ancient Gauls of Europe. Routed from their sacred groves by Romans, the only way to survive was to assimilate and practice their traditions in secret. Persecution dogged the Druids turned Witches at every step, they traded one brand for another and were made to stand by as their kind were burned at the stake. It was not enough to blend in with society, the Rose Coven needed to separate themselves from it entirely. Centuries later and the flames of ignorance failed to snuff out the practices that they, at great cost, had long kept alive. It was this life that Atlas and his brother were born into, twins born under an auspicious sign to the head of their coven.

They had allegiances with a line of shapeshifters known as the Griffen wolves, while they were a pack that had only aligned with them out of necessity, the ties between the witches and the werewolves became close. Through the generations it became less about protection or safety, and more about family. The witches were tied to the wolves and the magic within them, and the wolves were inherently tethered to the witches. Both were made stronger by the other, and so long as this pact was respected, both prospered.

From childhood’s hour Atlas was not as others, he did not feel the way that others felt, or dream in the same way that they dreamt. He could not remember a night that went by where he did not awaken screaming, or a time where he did not see mysterious shapes in the patterns of birds in the sky. Among the other children, it was only Aegon that did not poke fun at Atlas - instead he questioned it and wished to know why. Atlas didn’t have any answers, but their grandmother did and quickly confirmed that the young boy was born with the power of the sight. The things that Atlas dreamed were futures that had not yet come to pass, the birds wove omens for him in the sky as messages from the very Gods they worshipped. She too had the gift of sight, retired now from her long tenure in leading the coven, their grandmother took instead to bringing Atlas under her wing. It was she who embedded in him a love of weaving, it was this craft that had kept their people warm through the winter, that fed them fish from the rivers, created snares, nets, and other traps. It required patience, and nimble fingers, two things that Atlas had been notably blessed with.

Atlas and Aegon were inseparable outside of their lessons, Atlas had always been patient, the calm in any storm. His inherent nature was that of water, while Aegon had been born with fire. When his twin brother would set about a fit of rage, it was Atlas who would soothe the hurt with kind words. Calm, consistent, and steadfast, Atlas never questioned what his role in the coven would someday be. He was an oracle, a rare and generous gift of magic that would serve their family well into the future.

One night he awoke from a premonition of death, teeth that broke skin, blood that stained the ground, and bodies that were swallowed by the earth. Still just a child, Atlas barely understood it, but he woke Aegon and whispered to him everything he’d seen just as the oracle always did. The next morning the bodies were found, a vampire had torn through some members of the coven that were away from their protection, and they might have gotten away with it had a fury not noted the crime and come to take vengeance. Atlas would always remember how the man had looked, carrying the head of the creature who had wronged them as he strode into the camp. From their tree house above Atlas and Aegon watched as the fury dropped the prize before their parents feet. He took no payment, and offered only a promise that no others would follow this one.

There was power there that Atlas had never known, raw and visceral. It was a strength that the witch simply lacked, without a doubt he was talented, and had he been born a woman then he might have been seen as suitable to someday lead the coven. But that wasn’t his destiny. He learned more of the Greek mythos, and that furies were not born, but created. From then on Atlas and Aegon took to practicing their own form of protection about the forest, their practices had embedded a deep mistrust for the outside world into their psyche, and for this reason anyone who came near their coven’s borders were purposefully led astray. With Atlas’ power over the future, and Aegon’s talent for crafting illusions, nothing was ever truly as it seemed.

More and more the twins pushed the boundaries of their home, they wanted to see the world that was denied to them, eventually getting bold enough to venture into towns, then even cities. They had grown up in their coven, they knew how to slip in and out without being detected and for years they continued to do so. It was on their eighteenth birthday that Atlas and Aegon ventured out once more. This time to North Vancouver where they wandered the Quay, eventually going their separate ways with a promise to meet up shortly. Atlas had been raised on stories of witches who turned towards darkness, how one could risk their lives in severing their tie to the Goddess for even greater power. These tainted creatures were genasi, and it was on this day that Atlas encountered one for the first time. Rumors of the oracle’s skill had slipped from the forest’s borders and reached the ears of a coven of air genasi, it was Isaac who set out to retrieve him and with his magic bewitched Atlas’ mind.

That day on the quayside Atlas left his old life behind, left Aegon to wonder what had happened to his brother, and left his parents to eventually succumb to a coup. Taken into the company of the genasi and their collective, three long years would pass before the spell was eventually broken. Witness and complicate to innumerable horrors, it was Aegon’s magic that managed to reach him through the aid of a family relic. Armed with the knowledge now that the twins would never be able to return home, they set a different course, to Corinth Bay where they laid in wait for Isaac to come after what had been stolen from him. In death, a genasi could always be brought back, so they dispatched him instead to a place where his soul would never be reached again.

It was in Corinth where Atlas grieved the loss of his old life and the future he’d long come to accept, but it was where he also began to move on once more. Not unlike Aegon, Atlas met a vampire. One who was potentially as old as the traditions his family had been keeping alive for thousands of years. Despite their differences, the two of them fell in love, and for a time Atlas let himself believe that life could just be simple. That he could be the sort of person that, despite what he had been through, could simply grow old and be content with the happiness that he’d created for himself. In Corinth he made friends from all different walks of life, and he met people that he never would have encountered had he stayed in the woods. Alongside his brother Aegon, Atlas even opened a business, duly named Woven for the handmade textiles that he spent long nights pouring over.

But fate was less content, and furies were not born, but made. One night because Aegon happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, a vampire tore his throat out. Atlas came upon him too late and held his brother as Aegon took his final breaths, Aegon who’d saved him when no one else in the world was even looking for him, Aegon who’d been the first to believe the fantastical things Atlas dreamed of, and Aegon who despite his temperament was impossibly kind. He was good, talented, and taken from this world too soon. When his twin died, Atlas had felt it ricochet through every fibre of his being. His soul was sundered, and his heart was broken. There remained only one thing left to do and that was to get justice for the life that had so wrongfully been taken.

A shell of the sweet-natured witch that he had been before, it was only when Atlas was stood over the vampire’s decapitated body that Alecto appeared before him. There was only a serpent at first, one that slithered from the open-mouth of the vampire and struck at Atlas’ wrist. Fangs broke into his skin and  the witch felt himself hurtling through earth and fire before he landed at the feet of the horrid, winged creature. A den of snakes writhed about her head, eyes like brimstone burned into his soul, and a pair of bat-like appendages jutted horribly from her back. Atlas did not have to ask to know who this was, she was Alecto, Fury of Anger. And she had an offer for him.

Immortality came with a price, because while Xander had found a way to become human again, Atlas turned against this plan in favour of filling the hole in his heart with the only thing that felt justified given the loss of Aegon: vengeance and rage. As it happened, Aegon was visited as well. But not by Alecto, by Atropos. Atlas’ brother was made into a fury, and while they were once complimentary as witches, now Atlas can feel his loss of power every time he is stood in the presence of his brother. He can hear the cries of all those Xander killed in the past reaching for him in the waking hours, he feels the fault of his friends, knows without knowing when an egregious crime is committed nearby. Now he thinks often of destiny, and fate and to the few quiet years where he was happy. Truly happy. Perhaps a person is only allowed so much of it, and that the years he has left now with Xander will be the last he gets. Instead of the life they both wanted, Atlas instead will have to watch him grow old while his brother, Aegon has now been cursed to watch the fury move further and further away from his old self, forever.

PERSONALITY

+ intelligent, intuitive, confident – suspicious, reclusive, hostile

PLAYED BY SHANE. EST. He/Him.

[the-marius-de-romanus]

Alphebettery- Marius Entry

Marius de Romanus was born in 30BC, the illegitimate son of a Roman nobleman and a Celtic slave-woman, in the city of Massilia (modern-day Marseille, France), in the Roman Empire along the Mediterranean Sea between Spain and Italy. As he matures into manhood, Marius becomes a scholar and a traveler throughout the Roman Empire. In his mid-twenties, he meets his future fledgling Pandora (then named Lydia), and he desires to marry her, although his proposal is ultimately rejected by her father because she is too young. Almost two decades later, Marius is kidnapped by Mael and other Druids, who take him to the ancient vampire Teskhamen, whom they refer to as the God of the Grove. Badly burned and weakened by the Great Burning of 4 CE, Teskhamen turns Marius into a vampire through a very long process of blood exchanges, with the expectation that Marius will travel to Egypt to discover the fate of Akasha and Enkil, the first to be made.

Marius escapes the Druids and flees through the woodlands of the Celts. He travels to Egypt, where he finds the Elder who cares for Akasha and Enkil, now called Those Who Must Be Kept, since their great age has transformed them into unresponsive statues. The Elder lies when, in response to Marius’s questions, states he does not know the cause of the Great Burning, but Akasha speaks to Marius telepathically and informs him the Elder set them in the sun and that he is planning to sink them to the bottom of the ocean. Akasha then kills the Elder, and Marius takes her and Enkil out of Egypt to Antioch, where he reencounters his mortal beloved, Lydia, whose family was murdered, and as a result she is living in exile under the name Pandora.

Also in Antioch appears the ancient vampire Akbar, who, like Marius’s maker, Teskhamen, is badly burned. Seeking to drink from the Mother and the Father, Akbar learns that Marius is their caretaker and that he loves the mortal Pandora. Akbar drains Pandora to the point of death and threatens to kill her if Marius does not let him drink Akasha’s blood. Marius acquiesces and saves Pandora by turning her into a vampire, but when Marius brings Akbar to Akasha, the Queen destroys Akbar. Marius and Pandora remain together for the net two hundred years, caring for Those Who Must Be Kept.

When Pandora begins living with her maker, she brings her one-legged Athenian slave, Flavius, to serve them. Marius grows to deeply love Flavius. When Flavius becomes deathly ill, Pandora thinks they should turn him into a vampire. Marius refuses, but Pandora does so anyway. Marius is greatly angered and exiles Flavius from his house and from the Roman Empire itself. Her disobedience plants a seed of bitterness between Marius and Pandora. He has a great desire to teach her, but she refuses to learn from him. When he can no longer live with that or their arguing, he takes Akasha and Enkil from Pandora and will not see his fledgling beloved for many centuries.

Marius returns to Rome, where he encounters the ancient vampire Avicus, who is—like Teskhamen—a God of the Grove, but in ancient England. Marius is greatly amazed to also encounter Avicus’s fledgling Mael, the former Druid who held Marius captive for Teskhamen and was sent to Avicus to take Marius’s place as the new God of the Grove, Teskhamen’s successor. Despite the fact that Marius begrudges Mael for forcing him to become a vampire, Marius and Avicus become friends. As the three of them begin living together in a small coven, Avicus and Mael soon learn Marius’s secret, that he is the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept, and they willingly help him fulfill his duties.

At the fall of Rome, Marius, Avicus, and Mael move to Constantinople, where they continue their duties for the Mother and the Father. They discover another coven dwells in the city, led by Eudoxia, the fledgling of the ancient Egyptian vampire, Cyril, who is the fledgling of Marius’s predecessor, the Elder. Referring to herself as “the Vampire Empress,” Eudoxia demands to see Akasha and Enkil, but Marius refuses. With her coven of Rashid, Asphar, and Zenobia, Eudoxia attacks Marius, at which point Marius discovers that, because he has been drinking Akasha’s powerful blood, he is stronger than Eudoxia, even though she is much older. He also discovers that he has the Fire Gift when he burns Rashid to ashes. Eudoxia returns later, showing greater humility and imploring Marius to let her see Akasha. Marius reluctantly agrees, but when she stands before the Queen, she is so enraptured that she offers herself as a sacrifice. Akasha arises and drinks from Eudoxia to the point of death. Although Marius saves her, Eudoxia is greatly embittered. In a plot against Marius and Those Who Must Be Kept, Eudoxia kills a nobleman and leaves the body exposed in such a way that the mortal citizens of Constantinople blame Marius for the death. The mortals ransack Marius’s house and nearly destroy the shrine. Enraged by this, Marius goes to Eudoxia’s house, destroys her coven, sparing only Zenobia, and then drags Eudoxia before Akasha, who immolates Eudoxia to ashes.

Marius leaves Avicus and Mael and takes Akasha and Enkil back to Italy. He creates a secluded shrine for Akasha and Enkil in the Italian Alps, unreachable by any mortal at that time, where the vampires can rest safely while he makes a home in Venice.

He becomes a painter and a patron of the arts. He invites many young boys to live in his house to learn the artistic crafts.

Marius soon encounters the mortal courtesan Bianca Solderini. While feeling a deep attraction to her physical beauty, he marvels how her mortal mental ability prevents him from reading her thoughts. His attraction to her sours when he learns that she is a murderer. But when he uncovers that a merciless relative is extorting her to assassinate his enemies, Marius’s attraction is rekindled and he resolves to give her his powerful aid.

Marius also encounters the mortal Raymond Gallant, a member of the Talamasca Order, who provides him with news about Pandora and how the vampire from India is manipulating her, yet their whereabouts are still a mystery. Raymond promises to keep Marius informed if the Talamasca discovers any new information.

During that time, the vampire Santino, leader of the Children of Satan, introduces himself to Marius. He reads Marius’s mind, learns of Akasha and Enkil, and requests a meeting with Those Who Must Be Kept. Marius denies him, finding his Satan-worshipping coven abhorrent. When Santino insists, Marius threatens to destroy him; Santino withdraws but watches from a distance the keeper of Those Who Must Be Kept.

Marius eventually finds a mortal child from Russia, Andrei, who will later become the Vampire Armand. Andrei was abducted by Tartars and is now locked in the dungeon of a brothel. Marius buys the young Andrei, renames him Amadeo, and brings him to live in his palazzo. Marius and Amadeo develop a deep relationship. Amadeo doesn’t learn that Marius is a vampire until the night Marius saves Bianca from her extorting relative and his malicious family. Amadeo begs Marius to turn him into a vampire, but Marius refuses. In an attempt to incite Marius’s jealousy, Amadeo begins a brief affair with the Englishman Lord Harlech. When Amadeo ends the relationship, Lord Harlech storms into Marius’s palazzo in a jealous rage, armed with a poison blade, and duels with Amadeo. Amadeo slays him, but Lord Harlech mortally wounds the boy. Bianca nurses Amadeo until Marius arrives. When Bianca leaves, Marius turns him into a vampire.

Marius and Amadeo live happily together as maker and fledgling, both developing deep feelings for Bianca, until Santino and his Satanic coven invade Marius’s home, kill most of the boys, set Marius on fire, and kidnap Amadeo. Severely wounded, Marius mentally summons Bianca and receives her permission to turn her into a vampire. She takes him to Akasha and Enkil’s shrine in the Alps, where Marius drinks Akasha’s blood.

While his health is restored, Bianca, like Pandora before her, helps Marius care for Those Who Must Be Kept. When his wounds more fully heal and he can walk about among mortals, he goes to Raymond Gallant, who is now an old man and who informs Marius that the Talamasca have learned that the mysterious Indian vampire is still controlling Pandora and that they are likely living near Dresden.

Marius takes Bianca, Akasha, and Enkil to Dresden, where he finally reunites with Pandora and discovers that her companion and fledgling, Arjun, is not keeping her against her will after all. Marius begs Pandora to return to him, vowing that he will leave Bianca if she will leave Arjun, but Pandora rejects him and leaves. Bianca overhears Marius and leaves him also.

Nearly fifty years later, when Marius is packing up his belongings to take Akasha and Enkil to another region, he uncovers a note left by Pandora on the night they separated, asking him to find her in Moscow and help her leave Arjun. Marius immediately goes to Moscow, but by then she has already left. He can find no trace of either her or her fledgling lover.

Marius brings Those Who Must Be Kept to an island in the Aegean Sea, somewhere between Greece and Turkey. He remains there for years, caring for the people living on the island, until one night he begins hearing the voice of a young vampire searching for him, calling to him— the vampire Lestat. Hearing Lestat’s persistence, Marius leaves his island and finds that Lestat has buried himself underground after his fledgling Nicolas committed suicide and his fledgling mother, Gabrielle, abandoned him. Marius exhumes Lestat, revives him with his own ancient vampire blood, and then takes him back to his island sanctuary. After Lestat awakens, Marius shares some of his history with him, tells him about Those Who Must Be Kept, and swears him to absolute secrecy. When Marius briefly leaves, Lestat goes to the shrine and plays the violin for Akasha. Moved by his bravado, Akasha awakens, drinks his blood, and lets him drink hers also. Full of jealousy and anger, Enkil awakens and attempts to destroy Lestat. Fortunately, Marius saves him, but warns Lestat to leave to let Enkil’s anger diminish. Before Lestat can return, Marius takes Akasha and Enkil to a new hidden location in the frozen lands of northern Canada.

He fills their shrine with every new technology, partly to show them human development but also partly in the hope that they will awaken for him. By the time of the late twentieth century, Akasha and Enkil watch on television how Lestat has returned with new rock music in a successful band that is revealing secrets of vampires and challenging Those Who Must Be Kept to arise. Impressed once again, Akasha rises from her throne for a final time. She kills Enkil and buries Marius deep beneath several tons of ice. He projects out mental warnings to the other vampires that the Queen has arisen, but she is already flying throughout the world, immolating most of her vampire children. When he is finally freed from the ice by Pandora and Santino, he rendezvouses with many other vampires, including his fledglings Pandora and Armand, at the compound in the Sonoma Mountains belonging to Akasha’s mortal enemy, the ancient vampire Maharet. After Maharet informs Marius and the others of her version of the story of the Queen of the Damned and the Legend of the Twins, Akasha appears and offers them a choice of joining her cause for global domination as her servants, or perishing. Marius stands with Maharet and refuses to serve. So do all the others, including Lestat. They all fight against Akasha, but she is indomitable. In the end, Maharet’s twin, Mekare, suddenly appears, beheads Akasha, consumes her brain and heart, and takes into herself the spirit of Amel, to become the new Queen of the Damned.

Now that Marius is no longer the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept, he keeps closer contact with other vampires, especially Armand’s fledgling Daniel Molloy, who sinks into madness and bitterness towards Armand. Marius welcomes Daniel into his home, takes care of him, and helps restore his sanity; and in doing so, Marius finds a wonderful companion who also helps him make contact with the modern world.

Marius mourns when, after Lestat returns from his journey with Memnoch the Devil, Armand appears to commit suicide, but Marius’s mourning turns to joy when Armand reappears a few months later, having been saved with the help of two mortals, Sybelle and Benji. Marius decides to do Armand a favor and turn Sybelle and Benji into vampires to give Armand excellent immortal companions and also to protect them from mortals seeking to destroy Armand or any vampire. In the beginning, this greatly angers Armand, but Marius and Daniel both convince him that if Armand had turned them into vampires, they would have been weaker than him, the telepathic connection between them would have been lost, and they would have ended up hating him, the way Daniel had; but when Marius’s powerful blood in them, Benji and Sybelle are Armand’s equals.

Following this, when Marius is alone one night, he hears another vampire whom he has never encountered using the Mind Gift to send out a telepathic invitation to any vampire for friendship. Marius responds and meets Thorne, an eighth-century Viking made vampire by Maharet.

Marius and Thorne tell each other their histories. Marius is surprised to learn how Maharet abandoned Thorne for Mael, and Thorne is enraged at how Santino’s injustice towards Marius has gone unpunished. Marius advises Thorne against Thorne against seeking revenge against Maharet for rejecting him, but sensing that Thorne will not be dissuaded, Marius sends Maharet a telepathic warning. Marius and Thorne go to sleep that morning in Marius’s home but awaken the next night at Maharet’s Java compound. Much to their mutual surprise, Santino, is also there as Maharet’s guest. Out of a sense of honor and duty, Marius begs Maharet for vengeance for the wrongs that Santino did against him and Armand, but Maharet does not allow it. Knowing that Marius will not act without Maharet’s permission, Thorne does Marius a favor and exacts an old Viking custom of wergild—or exacting a “man’s price,” often taking a life for a life—and blasts Santino with his powerful Mind Gift until Santino is a bloody pulp. Thorne then uses the Fire Gift to burn Santino’s remains to a charred scorch on the ground. Everyone is equally surprised at Thorne’s behavior, especially Marius, who, although he would never be so bold as to disobey Maharet, smiles and nods at Thorne, showing his inexpressible gratitude.

Marius relocates to the Chateau de Lioncourt, where Lestat becomes the Prince of the vampire race. The Court of the Prince forms, and Marius is one of the most prominent figures. Arjun challenges Marius’s authority by attacking him, but he easily destroys Arjun. Prompted by this event, Marius creates new laws for vampires in the new millennium and helps guide the formation of this new Court, inspiring Prince Lestat to dub him the “Prime Minister” of all vampires.

Marius is the noble heart of the vampire clans. His sense of honor and duty guides him through every age. He is the caretaker of Those Who Must Be Kept and the sharer of vampire secrets with Lestat, who reveals those secrets in the twentieth-century, causing Akasha to rise for the last time and incite the Great Burning of 1985.

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Please give credit to @mariusderomanus-rp-help

[narukuwrites]

Verse: Britannia AU & Highlander AU Characters: Druid!Connor, Legatus!Markus, Centurion!Josh, Centurion!Simon, Druid!North, The Kurgan!Hank Pairings: RK1000 (Main), North x Josh (Minor)

In AD 43 the Romans began their conquest of Britain. A mysterious land ruled by wild warriors and powerful druids. This expedition was led by Aulus Plautius on the orders of Emperor Claudius. Markus is a Legates under the command of General Plautius, one of the best and is sent out to survey and scout the forest and land they have set foot upon. After they have settled and made camp. Markus does as commanded and takes his two closest friends and best centurions Josh and Simon to accompany him.

King Kurgan (Hank) one of the most powerful and fearsome Celtic Kings within the lands of Britannia. He has many strong and bloodthirsty and savage warriors. However, his son Connor is not one of these warriors but is, in fact, their Elder druid and most powerful of the druids that accompany King Kurgan. Connor is blessed by Cernnunos himself and able to commune with him. To favor them and his father, and all the clans within their lands to live peacefully and receive his boon and blessings, as well as prophetic dreams and magick.

Ralph, Kara, North, and Luther are also druids, not as powerful as Connor but still fearsome enough in their own right, all of them prophetic to some level and in touch with the gods and their land of which there are many. It is because of the druids and their knowledge, gifts and prophetic power that King Kurgan has had in his many skirmishes and battles against Roman invasions and never been defeated and is always successful in protecting their homeland against invaders who would seek to make it their own. The other clans join with him as well, for these battles rallied and united as one.

The Roman Army and Rome itself including the current Emperor is aware of just how formidable Britannia itself is. A mysterious land filled with savages, that do human sacrifices in rituals and worship the gods of the land, and the magick they cast that leads to the ruination of all who come here. There is also a name spoken known by many of the Romans, tales of him are known throughout Rome and its vast empire. King Kurgan who is ruthless and savage and never been defeated who feasts upon the flesh of his enemies and bathes in their blood. For he has the blessings of their gods and powerful druids on his side.

But the current Emperor believes he can defeat King Kurgan and that is currently why yet again a large number of his legion are here. Many of whom are reluctant to stay in these strange, unwelcoming lands but they cannot go against the Emperor or their General and as such have to obey or risk death themselves by their General.

During his scouting mission, Markus gets separated from the Josh and Simon soon becoming disorientated and lost within the sprawling forest and all seems lost. until he sees a mysterious floating light known as a wisp. And something compels him to follow.  By a happy coincidence, it leads him to a grove where many druid ceremonies and rituals take place. Where Connor happens to be and the middle of a ritual, one which requires him to be almost naked except, for being covered in the earth, leaves, and moss for it for this is how he communes with Cernnunos. He is the earth and it is he who tells him that there will be a Roman who will approach him, one who he will bring to their side and that he is here now.

Markus is taken aback as well as enraptured and distracted because he has never seen anything quite like this in his life. When he comes to his senses he knows that capturing this druid would be a great boon to them, And perhaps turn the tide in their favor a little. And yet although he knows that druids are supposedly dangerous, he somehow knows this druid would not hurt him. And this feeling only becomes intensified as all the druid does is smile and approach him with the offer of food and a chance to sit down and rest his weary soul. And he thinks that maybe the stories he had heard about druids weren't true?

Because all he sees is a gentleness and quiet curiosity, which he is drawn to. So he finds himself acquiescing to the druid’s wants and they begin to converse, for what seems like hours. Until night comes, causing him to realize he has to get back to his camp and when Connor lets him go it’s in that moment Markus decides he wants to meet Connor again. They both agree to this and Connor explains that whenever he is in the forest, the wisps will guide him to where he is and that he will never be lost in these woods for Cernnunos is with him.

Josh in the meantime finds himself following and giving chase to a figure, that appears to be a woman and decides she would pose no real threat and would come easily as a prisoner. It would be good if she was taken back to their camp and gleaning information from her, about everything that could help give them an advantage in this unwelcoming land. It ends up being a ruse, however, and Josh falls victim to an ambush by several Celts under North's command. North is able to do so because she foresaw his coming. And to lure him in by taking the guise of a female Celt foraging for herbs to separate the centurion from his fellow Roman and deeper into the forest, where Kurgan’s warriors laid in wait.

Upon seeing him she decides that she wants him as her thrall. And so he is taken back with them so that she can ask for Kurgan’s blessing to do just that and with some deliberation, he agrees. Josh is then sacrificed and brought back and is willingly obedient most notably with North and in time, they begin a relationship that serves to strengthens his loyalty to her and the Celts. Kurgan however only agreed to this because he knows it will give General Plautius cause to retaliate. Which he wants because it has been too long since he has had a battle and he is thirsty for war and blood. An example needs to made to those who would come upon their land.

Markus eventually makes it back to the Roman camp and tells the General Plautius that there are no signs in the surrounding area of the Celtic barbarians or any of their camps. And that even though he found nothing he will continue to scout further to continue in an attempt to get a lay of the land to help them get a stronger foothold and to figure out where exactly the Celts are. Aulus isn’t happy but nevertheless agrees that its a good plan, and that it makes sense because this part of Britannia they are not overly familiar with, for it is not on their maps wherever they landed. But when Simon returns without Josh this causes the General to seek retaliation for one of his best men has been taken captive and is most likely already dead. And although he lets Markus carry out his plan he puts forth his own. He will raze the forest and burn the land in an attempt to drive the enemy out into the open.

King Kurgan in the meantime is made aware by his son Connor that he is in contact with someone high within the ranks of the Roman Army, by the will of Cernnunos himself who destined them to meet. And Connor knows he can bring this Roman to their side and when he does, be a great boon in defeating the army of the Roman Empire. Kurgan trusts his son, wholly and tells Connor to feed Markus information, as much as he needs about their land that will lead the Roman army to various traps which have prepared. As well as setting up more which will allow the Romans to be slaughtered and sacrificed, pleasing the gods and sating his bloodlust. It would also cause them to fear for their lives and make them retreat back to the empire. Kurgan and the clans within the lands of Britannia are not happy at the fact their land is destroyed by the Romans but they decide that they will wait to retaliate and bide their time.

Connor and Markus continue to meet during all of this and both of them grow ever closer to the point where they become intimate on many occasions and Markus begins to have a better understanding Connor’s people and sympathizes with them. And he decides when Connor suggests it that feeding his General and The Roman Army false information, which will lead them into traps which will spell their demise. Thusly sabotaging the Emperor’s plans for conquest. And also due to their many numerous trysts together find they have a connection mentally, physically and spiritually. Which both of them seek more of with each other. Driven by Cernnunos and his guidance.

Eventually, Markus comes to the decision that he will never leave Connor or return home to Rome. He is also made aware that Josh now happily lives with one of his fellow druids, North and although he isn’t told the specifics as to how just it happened - he finds himself happy that his friend is safe.

Simon discovers them together though and realizes that all along Markus was protecting Connor and his people, and lying to them. Deliberately giving them false information about the layout of the land. Which was clearly given to him by Connor during the time they spent together. And it is why so many of their soldiers have been killed and slaughtered. Simon decides that this land is cursed and he will go back and bring more troops to rescue Markus. Who then tells Simon that he doesn’t want to be rescued. But that the blonde is welcome to join the Celts or be slaughtered like everyone else that is left. For that is the fate that Cernnunos gives to all who seek to spoil and take his land. And after all this and seeing that Markus is now more Celt than Roman. He agrees and begrudgingly sides with the enemy at hearing that Josh is already with the enemy and is happy, which is more than can be said for him.

However, Aulus begins to have his suspicions about Markus but brushes it aside. And instead puts it down to the fact that the Celtic King is a worthy adversary. So he nevertheless keeps trying and decides to try using tactics of his own, when he sees that the advice he is given seems to end in failure. He is also totally oblivious to the fact that both Simon and Markus are no longer within their camp and wonders if perhaps both of them were killed and mourns his Legatus, but not his centurions. But regardless he focuses on pushing forward and claiming this land for Rome and himself.

And for a while, he has the upper hand but his overconfidence and arrogance causes him to make a careless mistake. Which unfortunately leads all of his men to slaughter, and the land of Britannia runs red with the blood of the Romans. And the last thing the General sees before he is beheaded by King Kurgan is Markus who along with Josh and Simon is alive and well, and now are Celts and traitors to the Emperor and Rome herself.