#behold a mending rune

[chickenly]

BEHOLD. Elden Ring Haruspex at their peak (then it's a very rapid downhill tumble from here)

Feeling spurned by the Golden Order, they steal Mohg's title after killing him and intakes accursed blood as communion. They then decide to use themself as a vessel for a Bloody Mending Rune -- a task that proves to be difficult, as it grows hungrier and hungrier with each passing day ...

[visibleclosedeyes]

Violence of Passion

Warning: non-con, dub-con

Pairings: Devin, beholder of death x female tarnished

———————

There are several types of passions, all of which could lead to several outcomes—love, sorrow, suffering, and all other mixes of good, bad, and the in-between. At the deepest depth—the forsaken platform filled with complicated cross work of roots and destroyed nameless stone infrastructure, the fire at the pit of her heart was lit like the ever-forever burning of the fell fire. It shouldn’t be possible; this place was far beyond forsaken; it was sullied with death in every way imaginable—this place is cold. Yet still, the little tarnished felt buzzing heat inside her as the scene unfolded in front of her.

She woke up sometime later from the battle dream with the Lich Dragon Fortisaxx—physically unharmed but mentally fucked up. Immediately, she collapsed again after witnessing Fia ‘give birth to a mending rune. The tarnished claimed it just for the sake of it, and then—with the heavyweight power of the mending rune of death prince, she went unconscious.

And that is where she is now, woken up by the sound of a man speaking. The tarnished slowly rises as she gains back her lucidity—and then she sees it; hears it—all of it—as the fire in her gut consumes her very soul

“…this is a proper death, O Prince!” A man, who she met and remembered, who she handed over his brother’s armor as the last remaining heirloom back a while at the Nokron aqueduct, is currently triumphantly standing over Fia's gutted dead body. His sword, which tarnished did not remember, seemed to be intertwined with silver and gold now tainted with the red substance of the deathbed companion. His lunatic raving continues, each line progressively getting darker and darker.

“Look at this rotten whore! No more children can be got from this useless flesh! Behold, your mother is dead,” He rants, followed by a bone-chilling snickering that is filled with nothing but a twisted amusement of satisfying revenge. The laugh is so cold the Tarnished could practically receive frostbite from it–yet, her heart is immediately racing. Somehow, for her, it was boiling inside of her chest. She does not see his face, but his words paint a pretty–and horrifying–picture of Devin smiling the whole time, drowning head-first into his very own madness.

“Devin...?” the quiet and exhausted voice of the Tarnished snaps him out of his little world. From his behind, where she is standing, it seems like her voice causes him to stop breathing for a few seconds as if he was a child getting caught torturing an animal.

“Ah, Hello,” He says after collecting himself. The voice is clearer than minutes ago, but the lunacy in his breath is still there; unpunishable from his very demeanor. Still, he tries his best not to scare the little Tarnished.

“The Golden order is to remain unsullied…Now, I can finally look at my brother in the eyes, without any regrets…” Devin does not turn around to face you as he knows his very state of himself very well. He wished he could hold it from you, wished you would be a lot more of a heavy sleeper. Ah, it does not matter now, does it? Devin thinks to himself. When he faces her, she is stunned—unsure of what to make out of the scene. The hubris was horrifying, but darkly; feels deserved and satisfying—at least that must have been what Devin feels at the moment. The Tarnished doesn’t know what to make of Fia and her unfortunate bloody end—she doesn’t hate the woman but the fact that she assassinated Darian was enough for the Tarnished not to weep. Forget Fia. She is more worried about the man that had sort of lost it in front of her–Devin lowers his sword of brilliant gold and silver intertwined as it touches the ground–the residue of deathblight corruption disperses. It is a gift that is given from one generation of believers and passed down to the newer generation–even as the golden order has fallen deep into the abyss of irrelevancy. Like a droplet of water seeping into the sand upon contact, the blood rot at the tip of his blade disappears into the ground both of them stand on–and for a short moment, the tarnished swears she could see small thorn of deathblight springs to life before dies down once again. Devin crooks his head aside, he is observing the tarnished now.

Well, she is afraid now of what he will do to her next, she is partially responsible for his brother's death after all. Devin seems to be thinking about this as well, he doesn’t say anything when he starts circling the exhausted tarnished.

As if he is a wolf and she is a rabbit.

An inquisitor examining a heretic subject.

“I could kill you for what you have let happen at the roundtable hold. I think you deserved a painful end from my blade,” He points his sacred blade to her, its tip still soaking in the blood slowly grazing her skin. The tarnished knows she can’t die, but she also knows she can still feel pain, and unlike other enemies whose killing is somewhat of a chore or automatic response–this man will certainly make it painful. So naturally, the tarnished shudders in fear–she doesn’t even know when did she sit down on the ground but now she is craning her neck to see the slightly deranged man

When he stops in front of her, it seems like he has already made up his mind about something. Devin closes the gap between them, he cups her lower jaw with his hand forcing her to face his gaze.

“Maybe there is at least one use of you,” He hums

“Open your mouth,” The tarnished heard his command and her mind raced in panic

Is he going to…?

No, that…can’t be. No.

She denies her conviction like a deluded person, only to be proven wrong in a heartbeat. Devin doesn’t give any warning when he pulls out his stiffened member and rests it across the tarnished sickly pale face. It…is huge. She doesn’t expect this–as she isn’t a sick fuck who thinking about sex and cock when she saw a distraught man. The ashen-blonde man, on the other hand, is–the fact that he got hard…

“How?! How did you even get a hard-on…?” The tarnished protests with shock and disbelief. In this Deeproot Depth, it is just nothing but a decaying environment and ghosts all swallowing and lost into the dark—and the eerie bell sound from the mausoleum as well. The point is there is no way he…

“ I have been thinking about you, as I dive my blade into that bitch witch’s chest—her scream begging to spare you. It got me thinking about you and what I will do to you after the witch has perished,” the man says with a slight hint of madness in his voice.

“You have caused my brother his precious life, but you also…have done good things—for me at the very least. You give back the remnant of Darian, you bring back his blade and armor. You lead me unknowingly to the deeproot depth where I can take revenge for him,”

“ So, I won’t kill you,” Devin sounds full of himself as if he is a god who gazes upon mortals and decides to spare their worthless pathetic life. In his deranged mind, he did something nice to her by not torturing her to death over and over again.

“ Open your mouth and use it on my cock,” His voice sounds too casual as he commands her to give him oral service.

“You are fucking disgusting, I shouldn’t have help…uhm!” The tarnished voice is cut off prematurely as Devin suddenly shoves his length into her mouth. The sudden large manhood brings her into tears, it doesn’t hurt her as much but his cock is so large that she is struggling to allow the air in through her nose.

“Use your mouth not your voice slut,” his snickers filled with lust and dark intentions. Despite being forced, she can’t deny that his length feels…rather good. As the man forces her to go all the way to his base, her nostrils come to rest on his crotch. He smells…very pleasant, somehow after all that carnage, even with him wearing that used-up armor.

Devin’s leftover passion is burning ever brighter now that his cock is in her mouth. Snickering as the madman he is, her mouth is used like nothing but a lowly sex toy. Devin uses his free hand to grab her head–making her go faster and faster, disregarding her need for air. Then, his rope of cum shoots straight into the back of her throat without any warning. The tarnished closes her eyes as her tears start falling down from her cheeks. Dizziness makes it hard for her to compute what is happening. She tries to not swallow but Devin’s hand forces her head to keep still so she doesn’t have any choice.

“It seems like you still have some use in you,” Devin speaks as he grips a handful of her hair and forces her to look at him.

[deathblightprince]

It was like the gods were smiling down on Godwyn this whole time.

He was born the prodigal son of a Goddess and her Warrior husband. He was set to be a powerful king and a fine commander for the Leyndell army. Perhaps the next Elden Lord if his mother did away with the system of making every Elden Lord her consort.

But that would never come to be, for he was murdered before it all could come to fruition.

For many years, his soul was lost in the abyss. Banished with no hope of return. Even after so many of his of comrades went to great lengths to revive him, his comrades attempts were all in vain.

The shattering made reviving his soul seem like an impossible task. It seems his soul was destined to banished to the ether for all eternity, never to be seen again.

That was until Fia had arrived to the Lands Between, offering a simple answer: She shall lay down her life as a deathbed companion, giving his banished soul the vigor needed to be revived.

Her magic was long forbidden from the Lands Between as an order from his own mother many, many years ago. Yet grace did not discriminate. Almost nobody was there for enfore this order by the time she came around.

By all means, Godwyn should have woken up in that tomb alone. He should have woken up to discover Fia's corpse, along with the mending Prince of Death Rune. But it seems the Gods had missed him dearly, and they wanted to give him a fortune that others could only dream of.

Fia had survived the ritual, and Godwyn now not only had a fully intact soul, but a his deathbed companion as well to accompany him. She was close to death, but she was still living.

These months confined to the Hold, caring for an ailing Fia was... difficult, to say the least. The Roundtable Hold granted them safety, but the Roundtable Hold was no place for a demi-god. Sure, the halls were tall enough that he didn't need to bend over to walk over archways, but those beds. Ugh, those damned beds. If it weren't for his nightmares that plagued him, he would blame those tiny beds for his lack of sleep.

Eventually, Fia would be slowly nursed back to health. Once her health had improved, he decided it was time to finally bid the Roundtable Hold Adieu. Well, at least for him, Fia was still permitted to return whenever she wished.

He was ready to set their relationship in stone. He found himself during these long months that he simply could not live without her. He couldn't fathom spending a day without hearing her soft voice, feeling her gentle touches. The highlights of his days was waking up to her and getting ready in the morning with her. He found himself particularly serenaded when she would hum softly whilst he would braid her hair. It all lead him wonder what would've happen to him if Fia perished that night. Would he have ever left the Depths? Would he be able to find happiness and peace once again?

Supposedly not, because he saw Fia leaving him in his own nightmares, either by her own decision or by death suddenly pulling her away. He found those nightmares to be more terrifying than the nightmares he would have about assassins.

So in the night, he and Fia would finally move into their own small castle within the depths. They would leave a note for the hold, along with 'gifts' for any Roundtable Hold members they wished to stay in touch with. Once everything was set, they traveled via deathroot to their destination.

They would sleep that night within a grand bedchamber. There was a gigantic, luxurious bed fit for a demi-god and his partner in the middle of it. Two fireplaces provided light and warmth, while sentry torches decorated the walls. The dark eternal city decor mixed with the divine marbled decor that mirrored Leyendell was quite a style to behold.

Godwyn would finally set aside his old tattered cloak and mask, hopefully for the last time. Fia could finally shed her Deathbed clothes for a more fitting attire for a queen. She could pretend she was just a tarnished all she wants, but she was now a queen, a mother to Those Who Live in Death. No longer would she live the life of an average tarnished, because Godwyn would not simply allow that to happen. For now on, she lived like a queen, a Goddess even. The ground she treaded on would not be taken lightly anymore.

They would find sleep within their new bed of satin pillows and cotton sheets. Tomorrow was the beginning of new chapter.

[sciencestyled]

A Sea Tale of Sparkly Stuff and Unexpected Curiosities: The Madness Before Graphene

Ahoy, my stalwart crew of curious minds and daring souls! I, Sinbad the Sailor, have seen many a strange and wondrous thing in my time on the seven seas. From mythical beasts to enchanted isles, my tales have no end. But none so peculiar as the recent events that led me to pen a guide about a marvel called graphene. Gather 'round, and I shall regale you with this tale of happenstance, sparkly stuff, and unexpected curiosities.

It all began on a calm, sun-drenched day. My ship, the Chimera, was docked in a quiet harbor, the crew busy mending sails and scrubbing decks. I, your humble captain, was perusing a scroll of ancient charts, sipping a particularly fine goblet of pomegranate juice, when a loud crash echoed from the lower decks.

Rushing down, I found my first mate, Barnacle Bill, tangled in a mess of ropes and... glitter? "Cap'n," he spluttered, "we've hit upon somethin' strange in the cargo hold!"

Down we went, and lo and behold, the hold was awash with a sparkling substance that shimmered like the waves at sunrise. It clung to every surface, dancing in the flickering lantern light. At the center of this mess was an ancient chest, partially open, with glitter pouring out like a treasure of peculiar nature.

"Blimey," I muttered, kneeling to inspect the chest. It was covered in strange runes and symbols, ones I had never seen before in all my voyages. But what caught my eye was a small, crystalline object nestled within the glitter—a shard of something otherworldly.

Curiosity piqued, I called for Professor Periwinkle, our resident scholar and master of all things arcane and odd. He examined the shard with his magnifying glass, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Captain, this isn't just any glittery stuff. This here is a fragment of what we in the scholarly circles call 'graphite.' And this," he pointed to the crystalline shard, "is graphene—a single layer of carbon atoms arranged in a hexagonal lattice. It's a material of incredible strength and conductivity. But how it ended up here... that's the real mystery."

Well, you can imagine my astonishment! I, Sinbad, had stumbled upon a material that sounded like it came straight out of a wizard's grimoire. Naturally, my next move was clear: I had to learn more about this graphene.

Days turned into nights as I delved into the world of graphite and graphene. Professor Periwinkle, ever the enthusiastic teacher, bombarded me with tomes and scrolls, explaining the science behind this miraculous material. It was during one of these sessions, as he rattled on about hexagonal lattices and Nobel Prizes, that the idea struck me—why not write a guide for my fellow sailors and seekers of the strange?

And so, armed with newfound knowledge and a desire to share the wonders of graphene, I took quill to parchment. The result, my friends, is the guide you hold now, "The Madcap Mariner’s Guide to Graphene." It's a tale woven from the threads of science and seafaring, a blend of myth and material marvel.

As we set sail on this adventure of discovery, I invite you to join me in exploring the stout-hearted graphene. It's not just a tale of atoms and molecules, but a journey through the vast and mysterious waters of curiosity and innovation. Together, we'll navigate the wonders of this extraordinary substance and uncover the treasures it holds.

So hoist the anchor, unfurl the sails, and let the winds of wonder guide us forward. The age of graphene awaits, and with it, a world of possibilities as endless as the sea itself!

[xasha777]

In a realm where the boundaries of technology and magic blurred, there existed an ancient forest, bathed in perpetual twilight. This was a place where the trees whispered secrets of a bygone era, and the rivers carried the lifeblood of the world itself. In the heart of this mystical woodland, by a stream glimmering with bio-luminescent algae, sat Aeliana, the Guardian of Equilibrium.

Aeliana was not just any guardian; she was the embodiment of the forest's soul, appointed to oversee the Thermohaline Circulation - a sacred river running deep beneath the surface, governing not just the flow of water but the circulation of vital energies across all realms. This mystic stream was the pulse of the planet, ensuring that the magical and physical forces remained in harmony.

Clad in a gown woven from the threads of night, shimmering with the essence of starlight, Aeliana was a sight to behold. Her eyes, as deep and blue as the ocean depths, reflected the very currents she was sworn to protect. On this fateful evening, the forest was unsettled. Whispers of a darkness creeping into the fabric of the world reached her ears, carried by the sorrowful wind.

Aeliana rose, her form merging with the glowing tendrils of water, mimicking the flow of the unseen Thermohaline currents. With each step, the water reacted, coiling around her like serpents of pure energy. She reached out to the stream, her fingers barely grazing the surface before a ripple of power surged through the forest.

The Guardian's heart ached; she felt the imbalance before she saw it. Somewhere, in another realm, the Thermohaline Circulation had been disrupted, its magical currents thrown into chaos by an unknown force. This circulation was more than a flow of water; it was the cosmic artery that nurtured life and magic, and without it, the forest would wither and die.

Determined, Aeliana called upon the ancient technology of her ancestors - a fusion of arcane runes and forgotten science. Her voice, melodic and commanding, chanted the incantations that activated the runes tattooed on her skin. They glowed with the intensity of a supernova, casting eerie shadows upon the water.

As the guardian of this sacred cycle, it was Aeliana's duty to mend what had been broken. She invoked the celestial maps, projecting holographic constellations around her, each star a node in the intricate network of the Thermohaline Circulation. Her eyes closed, and she dove into the stream, her essence flowing with the currents, transcending the boundaries of her forest sanctuary.

She traveled through the network of energy, feeling the disruption like a wound in the fabric of the universe. Aeliana emerged in another dimension, a place of machines and cold logic, where the magic of her world was being drained by an artificial singularity. With a flick of her hand, she summoned the elemental forces of her home, weaving them into a tapestry of restoration.

A battle ensued, not of swords and shields, but of wills and wits, as Aeliana's enchantments clashed with the sterile automation of this other world. She fought not for dominion, but for balance, for the Thermohaline Circulation to be freed from its mechanical shackles.

With a final act of defiance, she channeled the primal energy of creation, the very essence that coursed through the Thermohaline Circulation, and directed it towards the singularity. The collision of magic and machine resulted in an explosion of light and color, a cosmic dance of chaos and order.

When the light dimmed, Aeliana stood once again by her forest stream. The waters flowed calmly, the balance restored. She knew that the equilibrium she guarded was fragile and that she must remain ever vigilant. For as long as the Thermohaline Circulation ebbed and flowed, the life of all worlds hung in the balance, watched over by the Guardian of Equilibrium.

[crybaby-tarnished]

The Brilliant Goldmask

It was raining, and Fyra was dancing. She was jumping, twirling, tumbling in the wet grass and mud, filthy. Every once in a while she fell to the ground, shuddering with crying.

She was so confused by it all. Hurt by it all. How could he do that? Do such a thing? Wait so long to tell her? She gave everything of herself to him… She loved him still, just as strongly as before.

It was so hypocritical of herself, to forgive Castella so readily, and yet for Gideon she ran away. It was different though, wasn’t it? Castella had been manipulated. Gideon… He had not. He had ordered it.

She was no longer anywhere near the windmills where she started, now instead near where those things coughed and wheezed, by a bridge that was broken and ruined. Fyra ran along it, still twirling around wildly but feeling no better.

In fact she felt even worse, the cold and wet getting to her.

She fell over, slipping on a rock, coughing hard, wheezing, when a familiar voice speaks up.

“Is that you, Miss Fyra?”

Fyra looked up, and was met face to face with Brother Corhyn, equally as wet as she was. She just coughed again, unable to speak.

“It’s quite fortunate you are here. Come and meet the Brilliant Goldmask. I have found him.” He grabbed her, pulling her to her feet, and motioned to the tall, unmoving man who looked like a walking corpse dressed in rags and gold finery.

She just looked up at Goldmask, and Corhyn observed her. “You seem to be in great distress… Why don’t you come with us to Leyndell? Clear your head. It’s where you are going, isn’t it?”

Fyra agreed with a simple nod. It was something to do, something to distract her better than her dancing.

—--

She protected the two men, guarded them from anything that would threaten them. All the while, Fyra coughed increasingly more. They made it into the capital, Fyra keeping her promise to Marsel and avoiding killing anyone she came accross, and as Fyra rested at a spot of grace, Melina appeared.

“Thank you. I now go to learn of myself.” Melina said softly, “I leave you with the power to use runes for strength. This is where we part ways, Fyra.”

“Goodbye Melina… I hope I will see you again.” Fyra said quietly, the first things she had spoken in a while.

“You will. I promise you.” She paused. Though Melina’s expression remained blank, she radiated concern, “You look unwell.”

“I am fine.” Fyra lied.

Not long after, as Corhyn and Goldmask walked up to the colosseum for a clearer look at the Erdtree, Goldmask resumed his pensive staring at the heavens, his finger slowly waving as he read the stars.

But then… He stopped. Frozen in place with the only movement being his breath.

“What happened?” Fyra asked Corhyn, who had taken up ‘deciphering’ what Goldmask said and did.

“He has come to some sort of confusion in reading the heavens… It seems that…” he paused, thinking very hard, “It seems that Marika and Radagon are occupying the same spot as the one true god. But… There can not be ‘one true god’ if there are two of them.”

“Is there something I can do?” Fyra asked.

“Try going to the Erdtree Sanctuary, perhaps it has something there.” Corhyn reasoned.

And so Fyra did, sneaking her way up to the sanctuary, bringing her close to the Erdtree, she climbed the roots, wheezing and coughing, but pressing on until she stumbled into the building.

And before her stood a massive man of golden light, axe clutched in his hand. A vissage of a man she recognized from her journey to the Lands Between, upon the ship that took them there.

She pulled out her weapons. She supposed she could do one fight.

—

She rested for a while, reading the book she had found within. An incantation book, teaching her Law of Regression, among other things. She sat in a small area secluded from everything else, with no other foes save for a single crucible knight she avoided.

It was hard to concentrate, she was very hot, and just felt all around so very sick. But still she read it, looking up a moment in pause at the statue of Radagon.

Maybe she was delirious, maybe she was brilliant. But she had a rather… Odd idea. She got up onto her feet and stood before the statue, the incantation book clutched in her hands. She stared up at Radagon’s visage, and remembered the tale Muriel told her.

That the sculptor knew Radagon’s deepest secret. Indeed, a riddle was carved into the stone street nearby, hinting at something.

Slowly she put the book away, her seal clutched in her hand, and she cast the spell she felt would reveal it, Law of Regression. The statue glowed, melted into a smaller, feminine form. A statue of Marika now stood before her. She stared, confused, until slowly, it fell into place.

Radagon is Marika.

Marika is Radagon.

The Golden Order claimed there was only one true god, and yet Marika and Radagon were one in the same, two halves making a whole.

It was wrong.

She returned to Goldmask, and told him, and soon the man’s finger moved again. But Fyra pressed him, giddy with fever.

“The order is flawed… Do you think it’s broken?”

Corhyn sputtered. “The Golden Order is not flawed-” he froze though as Goldmask’s finger changed how it moved across the stars, “You can’t possibly think-”

“Everything that happened, that went wrong, it was because it was imperfect right?” Fyra grabbed Goldmask’s tattered shawl.

His finger continued to move, an arm rising to stand straight out to his side.

“Master Goldmask, please you must not think such blasphemous things! Do not listen to her!” Corhyn begged.

“Can I make it perfect? Make it incorruptible? So that no one can use it to harm anyone else?” She asked, “Can I mend the Elden Ring and erase the flaws in it?”

She watched as the arm pointing upward moved too, Goldmask now standing perfectly still, both arms out straight at his sides. He was unmoving now, not a twitch or any discernible breath taken

“You're insane.” Corhyn hissed, holding his head and sinking to crouch on the ground, “The Golden Order is without flaw. As is said. It's- What have you done to him? You- You-”

“Shup up, Corhyn.” Fyra snapped, and she watched, unsure if she was waiting for something. Hours passed, and she just watched, stared, waited.

Finally Goldmask moved, his feet shuffling. He turned to face her, his head lowering from his gaze at the heavens and falling upon her. He let out an audible breath, and something slowly began to manifest before his chest.

A rune. Simple in shape. A circle. Fyra lifted her hands, and held them out, taking the rune within herself, and with it, an understanding.  

The gods were flawed and fickle things, no better than men. Flinging decrees of heresy at one another, causing wars and strife. Things once considered blessings were changed into curses. This rune… it would end all of that. Prevent the Golden Order for being twisted and warped by the petty squabbles of others, to be used as a tool of war and oppression.

This rune would mend the Elden Ring, and perfect it. It would make the world she wanted.

She cried, though not from sadness or heartbreak, but relief. This was the solution to everything. As long as this rune was put in place with as many pieces as possible, nothing could change the Elden Ring, corrupt or taint it. Even someone ill fit could become Elden Lord without fear.

Goldmask’s knees gave out and he fell, arms still outstretched, form slumping and sagging with the effort of his creation. Before Fyra could tend to him, a hand grabbed her shoulder, and she turned.

Melina was by her side again.

“All we need s to get to the Erdtree.” She said quietly, “Getting Morgott’s Great Rune is also important. It is an anchor rune like Godrick’s. It is essential for the rune’s mending.”

“I know.”

“Do what you must, dear Fyra.” Melina said, “In whatever way you see best.” She held out her arms knowingly, and Fyra fell into them as she succumbed to exhaustion and sickness. She held her tight, cradling her as Corhyn ignored them both, and Goldmask merely sat there, slumped and spent.

[starlightinmeshallshineonyou]

Something Strange Part 1 (A Marvel Cinematic Universe Fanfiction)

(A/N: GIF isn’t mine, please kindly check the maker of this GIF! [@carabuonos​])

Pairing: TFATWS! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: First of all, I’m sorry if I butchered the timeline because it’s freaking confusing lol. Secondly, this is a fanfiction, not a canon work of art/story lol! 

Word Count: 1.090 

Summary: A certain witch is out of control, it’s up to Y/N to take care of it. Of course with the help of the White Wolf, Captain America, and others.

INSIDE OF WESTVIEW

The women floating and dancing in the air, conjuring one color to the other one. They both dodged and conjured one more until one of them lost their will to fight and wither away.

It was sad really, the woman with unruly hair thought. That she could achieve this with just a matter of days. And finally it’s on her hands, in her veins.

She could feel it blooming with such intensity what the power could do. At long last ….

She could transcend into something more. And she wanted it all. “About our deal. Once cast, a spell can never be changed.” She said. “This world you made will always be broken. Just. Like. You.” She shot her arms to the woman, but the magic was simply perished.

The woman tried to conjure once more, but there was nothing. Her darkened hands were fine. Her magic was fine too. She could feel it in her body. Something was wrong. The problem was not from her. Something intervened her.

She looked up and saw that the woman with the red jacket’ life force started to mend, making her look young again. Her withered hand that was restoring to life brought up to the air as the clouds around the hex started to clear out, showing bright red of different runes all over the wall.

Agatha Harkness, the woman who absorbed the other woman’s magic, looked around them. “Runes,” it wasn’t a question, merely a confusion. 

“In a given space,” Wanda Maximoff, the girl whose life force was back to its beginning, said. “Only the witch who cast them can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson-”

It was such an irony, Agatha thought. That she mocked Wanda and now Wanda mocked her back.

A crown of red light was forming against Wanda’s face down to her cheekbones as she said, “-but I don’t need you to tell me ... who ... I am.”

Agatha shook her head in agony, “no. No. No. No!”

But it was too late. Wanda’s eyes turned violent red as she brought her hands up to Agatha and absorbed her magic. Not only Agatha’s magic but also from her surroundings. The universe finally cried in relief that they’re finally congratulating the birth of someone. Or something.

Agatha cried and groaned at the same time as her magic being drained by Wanda. And behold, the universe cried once more, floating in front of you is none other than The Scarlet Witch herself in all her glory.

“Oh, God. You don’t know what you’ve done...” Agatha gave in to her loss.

SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY, OUTSIDE OF WESTVIEW

(A/N: GIF isn’t mine, please kindly check the maker of this GIF! [@tvneon​​])

You opened your eyes and looked at your surroundings. Where am I?

You tried to stand up, but then you started to lose equilibrium and you groaned. A couple of minutes later, you started to get a grip on yourself and ask once more, “Where am I?”

You looked to the sky and quickly shielded your eyes from the sunlight. It burned your mind and suddenly your memory started to replay all over again in a quick motion. You shook your head, but it was too late. You vomited on the roots of the big tree and wiped your commissure with the back of your hand.

Your memory that was hurting you were a bunch of colors, clashing another: purple and red. You still didn’t know what it meant.

Again, you tried to jog your memory, but this time, at low speed. You tried to understand it like a kid tried to understand the situation they were in.

And then you knew what was going on. You cursed yourself, the universe, and all the possibilities. 

A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER, INSIDE OF WESTVIEW

You walked toward the big sign of Westview after dropping off from your ride. It was rusted and the grass around it dried and burned under the bright sun. In your line of vision, you could see the trace of static and hazy Wanda’s hex magic.

You reached for Wanda’s magic, like a drop of ink in the water, and absorbed it to your body. Your memory started to play again, a new one. This time was a snippet of Wanda levitating in the air and flying outside of Westview.

She’s gone, you thought.

This was bad. You didn’t prepare for this kind of situation and yet here you were. Where could she probably go? You knew when you reliving the new memory, Wanda felt bad for what she’d done to the people of Westview. So surely she couldn't go to a crowded place with a much greater population. 

I need to confirm this.

So you walked into the heart of Westview to find answers.

A FEW MONTHS LATER, NEW YORK

Bucky was back at his place after grocery shopping. He pulled out the stuff he bought and put it in his apartment cupboard and refrigerator. Then he put on his TV, showing a certain winged man with a shield with a star logo on it, the new Captain America. 

Bucky smiled, Sam really did deserve it. The title, the shield, the legacy. He was truly worth it to continue the path that Steve had paved. And Bucky? Bucky was okay with that. He’d help Sam as best as he could.

He turned off his TV and threw off his black t-shirt to the floor. He laid his body on the floor and brought up the blanket when he heard something like a punch and a crack in the alley.

He quickly got up and went to the window and slid it open. He walked to the fire escape and saw that there was someone beating a person with red jacket and a glimpse of tattoo on the nape of that person’s neck.

Bucky didn’t hesitate and jumped straight to the ground, knocking the attacker as well. The guy with bald head dropped down to the ground with a grunt. He looked up as fear crawled up into his eyes. Realizing who was standing In front of him. He stumbled back to the wall, shaking his head. Saying something like wouldn't do that again, the attacker quickly got up and ran for his life.

Bucky turned around and saw the person with red jacket wiping wiping the blood from the beating. “Hey, you’re okay right there?”

“Yeah I’m fine.” The person said. “Thank you, Barnes.”

“Your wel-” Bucky realized and saw that the person’s eyes were suddenly blazing with a scarlet red.

___

A/N: This is part one of I don’t know how many parts this story will be lol! And don’t get high hope on second part because I’m a lazy writer lol! 

[lordless-not-maidenless]

Timeless Heretic Snippet: Death Once More.

I do not have the brain to write much of anything at the moment.

So, enjoy whatever this is. Imagine if you will, Sibyl finally making her way to the Erdtree, only to find it blocked off with the thorns. This is, of course, after she’s reunited with Morgott, after she’s worked her arse off trying to help people, after getting enough great runes to have some sliver of her original strength back...

Only to find Radagon’s great rune on the thorns keeping everyone out of the tree.

She is not happy.

“Radagon you numbnut!” Sibyl hollers, with enough volume that Radagon certainly does her hear yelling at him. “Open the fucking door! I need to fix this bullshit!”

There is no answer of course, whether Radagon still stubbornly refuses, or if he simply can’t remove the thorns at this point, is up for debate.

And so it goes, every day she yells, pleads, begs for the thorns to move.

Because has she seen the fate of Melina, and she will not let the girl burn. But this world must be mended, it cannot continue in its stagnation no matter what Marika intended.

So, Sibyl goes in search of Destined Death.

Not to restore its purpose, not unleash it, but to bind it to a more suitable host. The cycle of rebirth Marika imposed upon the world can work, but even then death has its place and purpose.

Sibyl was once a reaper of souls, a hunter of beasts.

She was Death.

And if she must take on that mantle once more, to pry the Elden Ring from Marika’s remains and mend it in full...

Then she will walk the land as Death once more and behold the paleblood sky....

[jawsofhakkontranscript]

Augur

The Augur serves as a link between the people of the hold and the local spirits.

Involvement: Storvacker Caged (main quest), In Exile (side quest), It Remains to be Seen (side quest).

(If you approach the augur before speaking with Svarah.)

Augur: There are many curious about you, but the thane would speak with you first.

(If you approach him after speaking with Svarah.)

Augur: So she/he arrives. Don't throng! Behold, worthy ones. The woman/man who blazes like fire, and mends the air.

Party comments:

Iron Bull: Awww, crap.

Sera: Ehhhh. That's a lot of... not good.

Cassandra: What is this?

Cole: Hello!

Vivienne: Oh, demon-summoning. Delightful.

Solas: It's safe. They mean no harm.

Dorian: They're not... harmful. I don't think….

Augur: I am the augur of Stone-Bear Hold. I greet you, as do our gods and the gods of our ancestors. (The spirits make a noise.) There! It is done. Now come, be welcome! I'd hear news of the north.

[1] Dialogue options:

General: What was that? Those spirits? [2]

General: You said I "blaze like fire"? [3] (Becomes available after following the dialogue branch “What was that? Those spirits?”)

General: I'm looking for Storvacker. [4] (Becomes available after speaking with Svarah Sun-Hair about the search for Storvacker - see "Storvacker Caged" main quest.)

General: I met an exile in the woods. [5] (Becomes available after encountering Sigrid Gulsdotten - see “In Exile” side quest.)

General: Someone's used bones in magic. [6] (Becomes available after discovering Hakkonite enchantments in Swamp Kuldsdotten - see “It Remains to be Seen” side quest.)

Investigate: I have questions. [7]

General: Farewell [8]

[2] General: What was that? Those spirits?

PC: Did you just... introduce me to spirits?

Augur: The gods of the hold clamored to see you. I obeyed, for I am their voice and their augur. And if I didn't show you off, they'd hound me for months. [Back to 1]

[3] General: You said I "blaze like fire"?

PC: What did you mean when you said I blaze like a fire?

Augur: How do you think you appear to the gods of the Fade? To those beyond the Veil, your hand burns like the watchman's bonfire.

Subsequent dialogue options:

Confused: Spirits see me? All the time? [9]

Stoic: Nothing I can do about it. [10]

Mad: I wish the Anchor were gone. [11]

Anxious: That's terrifying! [12]

[9] Confused: Spirits see me? All the time?

PC: Are you saying every spirit in the Fade knows where I am?

Augur: Only those nearby, but thoughts spread quickly among the gods. [13]

[10] Stoic: Nothing I can do about it.

PC: I haven't found a way to stop it.

Augur: You'd shun a favor from the gods? [13]

[11] Mad: I wish the Anchor were gone.

PC: If I could get rid of this Anchor, I would.

Augur: You'd shun a favor from the gods? [13]

[12] Anxious: That's terrifying!

PC: All this time I've been a beacon to spirits? No matter where I go?

Augur: Only those nearby, but thoughts spread quickly among the gods. [13]

[13] (The dialogue continues to [13a] or [13b] based on which quest was completed, and then to [13c] if applicable.)

[13a] (If the Inquisitor completed In Hushed Whispers) They tell me strange things. That you muddied time's waters where the cliffs are red, and returned again…

[13b] (If the Inquisitor completed Champions of the Just) I see you've already killed one. A thing of envy, that grasped for your crown...

[13c] (If the Inquisitor drank from the Well of Sorrows.)

Augur: What are these whispers clinging to you? Less and more than spirits. They sing old hurts...

PC: You can hear the Well of Sorrows?

Augur: An echo's echo. I've seen the last whispers of aged elf-song in the Fade. What you carry is... older. [Back to 1]

[4] General: I'm looking for Storvacker.

PC: Do you know where your hold-beast may have gone?

Augur: Storvacker? No. I've asked the gods, but they've seen no sign. [Back to 1]

[5] General: I met an exile in the woods.

PC: I met a mage in the woods who said she used to be an "augur's apprentice."

Augur: Sigrid Gulsdotten? She left the hold when I told her she must release her teacher.

PC: Aren't you her teacher?

Augur: She might have heeded me if I were. (Laughs.) Or perhaps not. It's time the spirit in her was free.

Party comments:

Cassandra : She’s an abomination?

Dorian: She's possessed, and you do nothing?

(If no companion makes a comment) PC: She's possessed? An abomination?

Augur: Every mage in the hold is made one with the gods until they're strong enough. I thought Sigrid strong enough. Exile was her own notion. [Go to 14 or back to 1]

[14] Special: Why did Sigrid exile herself?

PC: Why did Sigrid go into exile?

Augur: Sigrid built an altar by the shore for her rite of thanks-giving. A ritual to part her from her teacher. Sigrid claims her offering was spurned by the gods. The spirit remains with her, and she's taken to exile. [Back to 1]

[6] General: Someone's used bones in magic.

PC: I found skulls with spells on them left out by the Hakkonites. What are they trying to do?

Augur: Skulls? So, bones. Magic cloaked in blood. Stone-hidden lie the tales of this hold. Here's the means to find them. Return when you've seen all the god-runes, and I'll tell you why the Jaws of Hakkon did this. [Go to 15 or back to 1]

[15] Special: Can't you tell me now?

PC: Why not just say what's going on?

Augur: Because you hail from the lowlands! If you'd know more about the Avvar, put some effort in the knowing! Besides, those runes took me months to carve. [Back to 1]

[7] Investigate: I have questions.

PC: I'd like to ask something.

Augur: Then ask. [16]

[16] Subsequent dialogue options:

Investigate: You’re a mage? [17]

Investigate: Why do you worship spirits? [18]

Investigate: Spirits teach mages here? [19] (Becomes available after following the dialogue branch “I met an exile in the woods.”)

[17] Investigate: You’re a mage?

PC: I assume augur is another word for mage.

Augur: I am a mage, yet not all mages are augurs. I give counsel to other mages, and the thane. In turn, an augur takes counsel from the gods and shares it with the hold. I make their will known to us and ours to them. [20 or back to 16]

[20] Special: You… negotiate with them?

PC: So you're an ambassador to the local spirits.

Party comments:

Solas: Some have wisdom, for those willing to listen.

Augur: They protect the hold. They help drive off spirits who've gone bad with rage or gloom. The gods live with us. Ignore their offerings, offer them nothing, and it weakens us all. [Back to 16]

[18] Investigate: Why do you worship spirits?

PC: I've heard enough to realize that when you say "gods" you mean "spirits." Why do you pray to them?

Augur: We offer to them. We don't pray like the lowlanders to a creator they think will weather all the ages. [21 or back to 16]

[21] Special: Do you consider them divine?

PC: Do you actually think they're divine beings? Something more than magic?

Augur: The spirits watched us even before we came from the north. They shaped themselves into our gods and we grew to love them. Their secret gift is this, Inquisitor: they reflect us as water does the sky. They show us what we wish to be. That image gives us strength. For that, we thank the gods. [Back to 16]

[19] Investigate: Spirits teach mages here?

PC: You let spirits possess your mages on purpose?

Augur: What better teacher than one woven from magic? The spirits in the hold have helped us in this way for hundreds of years. Once a mage masters their powers, their teacher departs, duty ended. Unless the mage is weak.

Party comments:

Vivienne: Abominations. Wandering freely around the village. What a wonder we do not do this in civilized cities.

Augur (in response to Vivienne): More proof lowlander cities aren't natural. No good comes of so many souls pressed together!

[22 or back to 16]

[22] Special: What happens to "weak" mages?

PC: What happens to these "weak" mages?

Augur: Their teachers stay with them and the other gods watch them both, so neither soul turns sick. If one does sicken, or the mage stands in risk of harming the hold… One day, they do not wake in their bed. It is very sad. It is what must be done.

Party comments:

Iron Bull: You mean you let a spirit... (Disgusted noise.)

Sera: No one thinks this is right, right?

Solas: It is kinder than what happens in many mage Circles.

Cole: You give them every chance, spirits watchful, wary, waiting until you're both sure. It's always cold in the hut then.

Augur (in response to Cole): Who is this one? He is blood and bone, but there are bonds about his form.

Cole: Yes. I am compassion. I know that now. I want to be here.

[Back to 16]

[8] General: Farewell

PC: I should be off.

Augur: Farewell [Exits the conversation]

~

(Return to the augur after completing “In Exile” and recruiting Sigrid into the Inquisition.)

Augur: So Sigrid Gulsdotten will come out of exile to join your Inquisition.

PC: Do you object?

Augur: It would be good for Sigrid to see what lies beyond the hold. Under the Inquisition's protection. The lowlands treat mages... differently than the Avvar.

(Return to the augur after completing “In Exile” and telling Sigrid to talk to the augur.)

Augur: I had a visit from Sigrid Gulsdotten. She had much to tell me.

PC: Will you separate her from her spirit?

Augur: Only she may fulfill that oath... but together we will seek guidance from the other gods.

(If you reapproach the augur after freeing Hakkon.)

Augur: You've killed the dragon! Hakkon finally rests. The gods mourn, the gods are joyful, the god Hakkon will return.

(If you reapproach the augur after receiving the legend-mark.)

Augur: "First-Thaw." A fine legend-mark. Wear it proudly.

[mogadichu]

SOAST DRAFT TWO CHAPTER TWO

The Monastery of Kelsh stood at the heart of the green island, rich burgundy wood carved in patterns of leaping carp and blooming water lilies swept up in lapping waves. A gleaming gold sun stood at each curved tip of the green tiled roof. The inside was paneled with dark wood, the walls varnished with oil murals of sailing ships and groves of cherry trees. The floors were inlaid with shining squares of gold and turquoise stone. Sahn’s footsteps echoed as he weaved through the maze of the corridors, pausing at the cavernous scriptorium, where graying monks copied sacred texts by the light of an arsenal of candles and lanterns, their necks growing forward instead of upward. Tentatively, Sahn peered over one of their humped shoulders. With steel fingers, they painted a map of Kelsh along the thick beige paper.

Kelsh and only Kelsh.

“Did she fix them, Ue?” Kale poked his head out of the library’s threshold, hearing Sahn’s footsteps echo throughout the stone corridor. He reeked of sweat and grass, his clothes stained from his morning work in the fields. Sahn grinned, holding up the mended scrolls. Kale huffed in relief. “Thank the Baltha and all who came before.” Sahn followed his father back into the room, barely wide enough for a grown man to lay down in. The walls were lined with octagonal shelves stuffed to the brim with scrolls, each covered in a fine layer of dust, from the molded wood floor to the timbered ceiling, skewed slightly like a lopsided honeycomb. This held all of Kelsh’s knowledge. This was all they knew of the world, and Sahn and Kale knew every one forward, backward, and sideways.

The monastery was meant to be a beacon of knowledge, a scholar’s jewel, a place for every Kelshin, no matter their station. Most of the population being illiterate was either an unfortunate accident or a cruel twist of fate.

The monastery may have been a marvel to behold, but the scrolls remained unread, the gleaming stone never grew faded from the feet of a curious reader. All but few of the people of Katha ate and slept and plowed from the cradle to the grave without ever learning their letters. “I’ve got no time for letters,” Old Og, a rice farmer with thin arms and a pot belly, grunted when Sahn had asked about it. “I wake up in the morning, I plow, I muck, I seed, and I go home and sleep. Besides, knowing your letters doesn’t make you smart.”

“But my ma and da know their letters,” Sahn had protested, “and they’re smart.”

Old Og had scoffed. “If your ma were smart, she would have stayed and been obedient, not run off and opened her legs to foreign trash.”

Tongueless monks glided past the door as the two worked, dust swirling around their thick wool robes as they walked. Sahn breathed in the room’s musty scent, wanting more than anything to vanish among the hundreds of scrolls that surrounded him. He trailed a finger across one of the carved wooden covers, nodding in satisfaction when it came back clean. Not a speck of dust would touch these shelves on his watch. He ascended the ladder, sliding the scrolls back into their proper place. The ladder’s bottom step was missing, obliterated from its brave attempt to hold his father’s two meters of muscle. Kale’s massive feet never left the ground again after that day. Instead, he unrolled one of the scrolls, surveying Maudra’s handiwork. “Amazing,” he said. “You can’t even see the tears. How much did you owe her?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. She always makes people pay. How much?”

“Nothing,” Sahn repeated. “She was… busy.” He went still, the runes on the wall barging back into his thoughts. He repeated them over and over like a catchy song, wondering what they could have meant. “Da, could you pass me a pen and parchment?” He drew the symbols in a straight line, forming a sentence. It was surprisingly maddening. They looked like Old Kelshin, but they didn’t make any sense. Open there a to gate with… with… the final three runes, he had never seen before. “Can you read this?” He passed the parchment to Kale, not needing to look too far down to meet his eyes.

Kale studied the parchment for a long while, saying nothing, his eyebrows, like two mice resting above his eyes, knit together in puzzlement. He stroked his thick shallow beard, his chest rumbling in a low, constant hum. Then, he looked up, smiled, and tossed it back. “Ue, if your making up your own language, again, you should know that I won’t understand it.”

“It’s not a fictional language, Da. It’s Old Kelshin.” Sahn hopped back down to the floor, recounting the incident in the temple. “So, is Sister Maudra going mad, then?” It made far too much sense. The Daughters of the Moon had been fading for years, each one dying off with no heirs brave enough to take their place. Sister Hada was the only one left. Sahn had tried to give her as much company as he could. But the poor woman was still alone in that great empty temple, day in and day out. Moons, Sahn did not even know her age.

“I heard where you were this morning.”

Sahn and Kale both turned to stare at Shay, bent backward slightly from the weight of the crate in her arms, overflowing with jars and packages filled with fresh apothecary herbs. Sahn looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Kale’s face glowed as red as the clover fermenting in its jar. He rushed to her, seizing the crate. “Let me take that, my love.” Shay’s amber eyes never left Sahn as her arms fell away. Sahn went back to work, suddenly very interested in the alignment of the shelves. Behind him, he heard her footsteps padding closer and closer, until he felt her warmth at his back. “You went to the Daughters’ Temple today,” Shay sighed. “You know how I feel about them.”

“Sister Maudra just mended some scrolls, Ma,” Sahn mumbled.

But there was no fooling Shay Darru. “She’s mad,” she pressed, more forceful than usual. “She’s always been mad. That’s why she’s alone.” Sahn flinched as though she had slapped him. “Of all the people on this island, why do you go to her?”

Sahn said nothing, putting scrolls in the wrong places, then the right, then the wrong again. The first warm day of spring wafted into the open windows of the outside corridor, blocking in the heat like an oven. Specks of dust waltzed about the sunbeams. Sahn wished he could be one of those specks, dancing out into the corridor, into the courtyard, anywhere but here. “First there was the old man in the northern monastery,” Shay went on. “Then, there was that homeless boy. Then, your cousin- oh, your cousin.” He could hear her rubbing her brow. “I just don’t understand-”

“Am I not allowed to talk to anyone, then?” He had not meant to sound churlish, but it came out as such.

“Listen, Sahn. We…” she trailed off. Sahn still did not turn around, but he knew she stood there now, her hands on her hips, her eyes on her feet. His irritation began to melt like ice in the sun. Of course, his mother wanted him to talk to people. She just didn’t want him to talk to Kelshins.

In her eyes, he may as well have been talking to skoiias.

Shay tried again. “There isn’t anything for us here, Sahn. These people won’t… Ever since Jehra…” Her voice fractured. Now she truly could not go on. Sahn faced her then, touching his brow to hers. He breathed deeply, prompting her to do the same, in and out, in and out. The pain, the heaviness in her eyes made her somehow look both too old and too young at the same time.

It was the one story that she could never tell; the story of a girl who ran away from a man who bought her, and returned ten years later with a Vyornish husband, a toddler son, and a pregnant belly. Both she and Kale thought their children did not notice the scornful glares, the pointing fingers, the giggles and smirks. It weighed on them like boulders, their shoulders hunched, dragging them through the mud and muck. The monastery was the only place that gave them work (the pension was barely enough for coal, but it was better than sleeping in a rubbish heap). Kale could help in the fields, but that was expected. The other men could only work for a few hours at a time, but Kale could glean until the sun Tuma made his leap across the sky, pulling the plow himself, leaving the munts to graze happily to the side. Shay sighed heavily, turning her head to rest on the hollow of his shoulder. Sahn wished he could take her pain from her like a dirty cloak and throw it in the river. But all he could do was hold her until, finally, she pulled away, meeting his eyes.

“We’re leaving soon,” she whispered. “Don’t forget that.”

Oh, Ma… Sahn stifled a sigh, forcing a smile to his lips. Shay kissed his temple before trotting off back down the corridor, leaving Sahn to lose himself in the silence.

 “You can’t kiss a goddess, Da.”

     “And why not? You can kiss a ghost.”

     “You cannot.” Sahn’s laugh sputtered into a groan as his stomach twisted again, reprimanding him for leaving it unfed. He hadn’t realized that he had missed both lunch and teatime until the library grew suddenly, immensely hot. He looked up from his scroll to see the sun Tuma searing in through the windows. It mercifully vanished behind the slope of Gleaner’s Hill as Sahn and Kale ascended the zigzagging streets.

     “I’ll show you,” Kale scoffed. “One day, you and I will both climb up to the Baltha itself and-”

     “Kiss a goddess?” Sahn asked, wry.

“Well, now. I didn’t say that. I said-”

But Sahn had already accelerated his pace, hollering toward the glowing windows of their house. “You say you’re going to kiss a goddess, Da? I hope Ma knows.”

“Quiet, you.” Kale slung his gargantuan arm around Sahn’s neck, silencing him with a deep, throaty laugh.

The Darrus’ house stood tall and lopsided, built upward rather than outward, squashed between two squatter buildings like a scroll shoved into a too-small space. The street was bare, everyone else already inside enjoying their dinners. Smells wafted from the string of open windows; fish and rice, wines and sweets and frying bread. But the cloying perfumes of Shay’s apothecary herbs could not be masked. Despite the previous heat of the sun, the evening but with cold, and Sahn craved the delicious warmth that awaited him inside.

“Halt.”

Sahn and Kale stopped short, turning to the threadbare curtain draped limply beneath the front steps. “You are not taking another step,” the voice announced, “until you witness my latest creation.”

The curtain flew open in a flurry of metal shards catching in the dim light. Every inch of Arelya’s cloak was covered in assorted gears and screws shoddily sewn. Some held fast, some dangled precariously from their strings, clattered to the cobbles as she twirled around. The noise was like tinkling bells. “What do you think?” she asked, beaming.

Sahn’s mouth hung open in humoring amazement, but Kale was blunt. “What is it?”

Arelya shrunk a bit. “Well, it’s nothing, really. I just decided to sew everything to my cloak.”

“Why?”

Arelya only sighed. “I’m unappreciated in my talents.” With that, she hopped onto Sahn’s back, her knees pressing into his sides, arms constricting around his thin neck. “Onward, my prized stallion,” she cried. “There is food to be eaten.”

“Ari,” Sahn chuckled through his startled coughs. “Please. If you keep this up, I’ll gain a hump on my back.”            “Good,” said Arelya, planting a hard kiss on his cheek. “It will make it easier to climb. Now, hush. Horses don’t talk.”

Sahn began to walk- hobble, actually- up the steps. “Come on, Da,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m sure Ma didn’t hear your intentions.”

His smile fell immediately at the sight of his father’s face. Kale gaped down the dimly lit street, his face blanching from copper to beige, as the two hulking figures stalked up the hill toward the three. Sahn was suddenly unaware of Ari’s weight sliding down his back. Kale backed away deliberately, placing a steady hand on Sahn’s shoulder. One of the men nodded. He nodded back stiffly, herding Sahn and Ari into the house, leaving the door open behind him.

“Finally,” Shay called from the dining room. “I nearly started without you. Come and eat.”

[rileyomalley]

1, 10, and 32 for Romero??

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?This man probably gestures more with his facial expressions than anything. Overall he's a fairly chill fellow both in his stance and his walk, how he holds himself. He walks as an equal to others, idling with his halberd and spinning it about from time to time. 10. What energizes and drains them most?Romero likes a good challenge which will change him from the usually relaxed form to one at the ready, new sights to behold and explore after hermiting for like...YEARS. Got ridiculous stamina so he can go for a while. Also nice spring? Nice HOT spring? HELL YEA.Draining him is being hit hard with old memories that have for the most part been locked away. Hit him back with his own magic that he channels. For the most part he can hold himself okay?32. Do they have any “props” that are a significant part of their life, identity, activities, or self-presentation somehow? What are they, how are they used, and why are they so significant? How would these props’ absence impact them, how would they compensate, and why?

-Will Smith pose to his halberd-

Okay that's technically not the only thing, but it is very important as it was one of few things he kept on his person before his isolation. Early he got it on in training with his clan, and overtime it became an item of great use both in melee as well as magical combat. All the runes were carved over the years of being on his own.Second would be something you don't see on his person unless he takes it out. In those long gauntlet sleeves, he has a little memento from his younger sister Ruby. She always liked to collect small things from stones to flowers. She liked to press small flowers and mend them together with the stones she collects. He has an amber stone wrapped in white posies.

[reivenesque]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Tagged by the lovely @alyxhavok ❤️

Marred by Poison, Purged by Magic - Malec, hurt!Magnus, ensemble cast fic. Parabatai bond, friendship feels galore. Chapter 1 of 2.

Alec turned back from the sight and watched as Catarina’s magic weaved through the gaping wound, like a master seamstress, healing the jagged puncture in his lung and stitching up the muscles and tendons and reconnecting the arteries. It was absolutely spellbinding watching the way a master healer went about her craft; the intricate way in which she worked and navigated around the tiniest aspects of the human body. The way she could tell which artery and which vein and which blood vessel went where; the way she reconnected the tissues and nerves. Alec couldn’t look away from the way her fingers and her hands danced in mid-air like a puppeteer controlling the string of his puppet. It was so similar to Magnus and yet so different.

Catarina was precise in her movements where Magnus was elegant. Catarina had a meticulous sort of beauty to her gesticulation where Magnus almost danced in his. Catarina’s magic was ethereal whereas Magnus’s raged like burning embers.

Just Within Reach (but of so far away) - Malec, emotionally hurt!Magnus, post 2x12, featuring good boyfriend!Alec. Friendship feels fic. One-shot.

Magnus would never have asked for comfort but with Alexander, he didn’t have to. The only thing Alexander wanted in return was to feel needed, to know that he was wanted. He would have given Magnus everything, which is a reality Magnus found as touching as it was bittersweet. Sometimes, the darkness within him makes him wonder whether Alexander would still feel the same if he knew the real Magnus. The Magnus that was stripped of all the glitz and the glamour and the fancy words and the extravagance; the chipped and fragmented Magnus that cowered in the dark corner of his memory, naked and bare, hiding from pain and hurt and sadness; trying to cease to exist without actually dying. Would Alexander still love him then?

Parabatai Gone - Parabatai fic. Post 2x20. Background Malec. One-shot.

Jace died. Alec felt him being ripped out of his soul.

But…he’s looking at Jace and at Clary and Jace is alive but why does he still feel so empty? His parabatai rune is back but why does it feel so wrong? Why does it feel so incomplete? It was like something that had been broken and put back together, but the cracks would never truly be fixed. Their bond had been broken, and somehow it had been mended, but it hadn’t been truly healed. There were cracks in it that he could still feel; small cracks in fragile connection too tiny to be noticeable but Alec noticed. Alec noticed everything about the bond, even more so than Jace.

Cindereva [Skam] Chriseva, fairy tale AU, ensemble cast fic, slow burn, falling-in-love. On-going.

But the closer the figure came to her, the most details she started to notice, like the fact that it wasn’t the wolf emblem on his chest that was dripping blood, it was blood dripping from his chest; blood trickling down his hand hanging limply at his side and blood caking almost half of his face.

He came within ten feet of Eva’s breathless figure, tears prickling the back of her eyes and her words dead in her throat, unable to move or breathe or think. But his eyes were unseeing, he wasn’t even looking at her as he stepped closer and closer and closer.

Until he finally collapsed in an unmoving heap on the ground right at her feet.

Only then did Eva finally remember how to breathe.

Snapshots [Skam] Chriseva, Eva Kviig Mohn through the years. Post finale spite-fic. Forever bitter squad.

When Eva was eighteen, everything suddenly turned out too complicated. Chris wanted something more, more than she was willing to give, and Eva fell back into old habits, doing the same thing she always did when things got too hard: she ran. This time the path led her to Jonas’s door and his bed. But this was what she really wanted, right? Getting back on the right path, the path that included Jonas and their two kids and the white picket fence on their lawn and the big blue house that sat at the edge of the cobblestone path. Chris said he loved her and that he was ready to settle down with her even though she wasn’t, and as it turned out, Chris wasn’t ready either.

They came together but they left separately, but that was okay.

A Family We Chose For Ourselves [Skam] Chriseva, hurt!Chris, everyone worries about Chris, Chrishelm friendship, Noorhelm, ensemble cast fic, friendship feels fic. Lots and lots of hurt, lots and lots of comfort. Complete.

Eva is sitting by Chris’ bedside in the ICU room watching the rise and fall of his bruised and battered chest. William is on the other side bent over the mattress with his head resting on his crossed arms, reaching out to grasp Chris’ limp hand in a vice like grip, holding him close even in sleep. Eva really couldn’t blame him. Within the last few hours, he’s gone from being in London, thousands of kilometers away on a day that was supposed to be happy and merry, to being worried out of his mind over his missing best friend and the feeling of absolute helplessness after finding out that his worry wasn’t unfounded, if nothing else, it was probably a worse outcome than he could ever have imagine. Eva’s pretty sure he dropped absolute everything, sat on a place for hours without communication all while not knowing the status of his friend, how bad he was injured or if he was even alive. All while being gnawed at by the undoubtedly crippling feelings of guilt.

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap [Suicide Squad] hurt!Rick, ensemble cast fic. Multiple POV’s. Complete.

Sometimes he thinks of Chato Santana as an entirely separate entity. 

They share the same past and childhood memories sure, maybe even the same interest and the same type of woman. But the difference is that Chato Santana was just a man, he was flesh and blood and bone and he bled red when they cut him. His blood flowed crimson when they shot him and Chato Santana died a long time ago. Long before his own blood started boiling under his skin. Long before he burned rival gang members alive. Long before he roasted those people in that prison yard and smelled the stench of their boiling organs from ten feet away as he laughed. Long before he murdered Chato Santana’s wife and kids with his raging fury in their home. Long before he came back to life as El Diablo, the demon.

Reaching the Breaking Point [Point Break 2015] Bodhi/Johnny, paralysed!Johnny. Falling in love, first kiss fic. Fic 2 of 2. (x)

They venture down to the seashore together and Bodhi can barely tear his gaze away from Johnny’s face; the almost wondrous expression he has on his face as he looked at the foamy water lapping the front wheels of his chair. It’s a gorgeous sight to behold but also bittersweet at the same time.

Bodhi thinks of the man who’d been so unafraid of the steep, rock-strewn drop on that snow covered mountain and the reverence in his voice when he said, ‘But it’s also perfect.’ He thinks of his utter fearlessness when he didn’t stop at the second cliff when everyone else had been too afraid. Roach had called him broken, but Bodhi thought that was the closest he’d seen Johnny come to being whole.

That’s definitely more than five though - can’t help it, I’m shameless. I love and am proud of all my fics 😎

Tagging the usual suspects if you want to/haven’t done it yet: @imyourliquor-youremypoison, @hikaru9 (since you’re a writer now too), @ganseysjane, @s-erendipitiness, @blj2007 @ladymatt @giishere @xoxoalterlove @gonnabreakhisheart @drakamena

[ruffsficstuffplace]

Of Rocks, Romantic Rivalries, and Rune Rangers (Part 4): The Siren’s Song (Part 1)

It was pandemonium in one of Valentino's biggest beachfront districts, Zarkon's troops swarming all around the storefronts and the hotels, civilians, tourists, and military types alike escaping through the streets, or out to sea.

The Armed Forces of Avalon set up barricades and helped evacuate the area, but against the vastly better armed Galra Empire, they could only wait, pray for help to arrive, and hope no one was still trapped inside.

Atop one of the tallest roofs, Haggar's latest Robeast loomed, a bizarre, humanoid creature that looked like a mix of a fish and a human woman, too alien and inelegantly-designed to be Fae.

“That's right, everyone! Run! Run from my super scary troops!” she cried. “This city is under Galra control now and I, Mero, am going to be the one ruling it, okay?!”

Through the psychic link to Galra's headquarters, Zarkon noisily cleared his throat.

Mero groaned. “Okay, alright, fine! Emperor Zarkon is going to be ruling it, but I'm like, gonna be the branch manager or something! So bow down and respect me, peons!”

“Sorry, your highness, but looks like your reign's going to end before it even starts!” Lance cried.

Mero scowled as she noticed six familiar figures standing in the deserted boardwalk. “Ugh!” she cried. “Can't you guys just NOT show up and totally ruin Emperor Zarkon's plans for once?!”

Keith laughed. “Yeah… that's not happening.”

As one, they thrust their hands through the air and raised their runes to the sky, the carved gems glimmering in the afternoon sun.

“Strength of the Suns!” / “Light of the Moons!”

The Rune Rangers' and Allura's bodies glowed with their respective colours, so radiant they blinded and warded off the Galra footsoldiers around them until they exploded in a brilliant shower of light. Now in their armour, they got into their respective poses and cried:

“Defenders of Avalon! Rune Rangers, Celestial Guard!”

Boom.

Multicoloured pillars of smoke erupted from behind them.

Mero groaned. “Are you done?! Have you done your whole bit now, complete with your stupid catchphrases?!”

Their runes transformed into their weapons, and they held them at the ready. In Shiro's case, he socketed it into his prosthetic arm, the magic holding it together now glowing a brilliant crimson and purple.

“Yes,” Shiro replied.

Mero harrumphed. “Good! Minions: ATTACK! And don't suck so much this time!”

The Galra attacked, a horde of swordsmen, riflemen, and hulking brutes with shields and maces.

Shiro held thrust out his prosthetic arm. “Keith, Allura, Pidge, with me: we're cutting a path to the Robeast!”

“My name is Mero, you doucheschnozzles!”

Shiro ignored her. “Lance, Hunk: fire support! Focus on the shooters!

“Celestial Guard: CHARGE!”

The Rune Rangers and the Galra Forces clashed, the air ringing with the sounds of gunfire and violence as the robotic minions were slashed to pieces, crushed to bits, or left staring at the new holes in their bodies before they collapsed, inactive.

“This is way too easy!” Keith cried as he blocked a Galra trooper's mace with his shield. “You guys having an off-day?!” he cried as he retaliated with an upwards slash across its chest.

Shiro thrust his prosthetic arm into the trooper's chest before the metal could mend itself. “Don't tempt fate! It never ends well!” he cried as he ripped out its power core, then threw it at the minions further up.

Boom.

Mero shielded her eyes with a webbed fin-hand as a good chunk of her forces were wiped out or severely damaged. “Too late, Rune Jerkbags!” she cried as she lowered her arm. “Behold: my super awesome secret weapon!” she proudly raised her head and breathe in deep.

Pidge shocked a swordsman with her katar, Allura smashed its head in with her staff while it was defenseless. The two of them plus Shiro turned to Keith, opened the visors of their helmets, and glared at him.

Keith raised his hand and sword in apology. “Sorry.”

Mero let out a powerful, ear-piercing screech, waves of magic erupting from her body and spreading all around the beach. The Rune Rangers all fell to their knees and clutched their heads, her “song” ringing in their heads, getting even more agonizing and out-of tune as it went on.

Not even her own troops were immune, all of them spitting out error messages and jerking around as their auditory sensors were overloaded.

Then, it stopped, and faded away into nothing.

The Rune Rangers groaned and shook their heads; they looked around, saw the Galra troopers still stunned and recovering.

“Hah!” Lance said as he held up his rifle. “Is that your 'super awesome secret weapon'? A stun wave that affects your own guys? Lame!”

“Hmph!” Mero crossed her arms. “Look again, doucheschnozzle, because I turned one of you to my side!”

The Rangers frantically looked around, until they saw Pidge still on her knees.

Lance sighed in relief, and lowered his gun. “Oh, great! It's just Pidge—I was worried for a moment there!”

Pidge got up, turned around, and shot her grappling hook onto Lance's chest.

By the time he realized what had happened, she was already zipping towards him.

Pidge crashed into Lance's chest feet first, knocking him flat on his back. He tried to grab her and throw her off, she was already plunging her katar into him.

Lance screamed as hundreds of volts of electricity were pumped into his body.

“HUNK!” Shiro cried as he, Keith, and Allura fended off the fully-recovered Galra. “GET HER OFF!”

Hunk yelped and aimed his cannon at Pidge.

She snapped her face to him, opened her visor and showed him her amber eyes, now glowing an ominous shade of purple.

“HUNK!”

Hunk whimpered, then clumsily swung his cannon at Pidge.

She jumped up, easily dodging his attack; she launched off him, and back into the fray with the others.

Hunk staggered back in surprise. He watched her somersaulting and scampering between the Galra's legs and the space in between them, the troopers ignoring her completely as she crept up behind Allura, Shiro, and Keith.

“GUYS! BEHIND YOU!” he cried as he aimed his cannon at the Galra.

Keith slashed a trooper in front of him, destroying it. He turned around, just in time to see Pidge crouching in front of him, before she sprang up and slashed a line up his chest.

“AGH!”

Pidge somersaulted through the air and behind them, Allura and Shiro stared in horror as the Galra quickly swarmed in front of her to protect her.

“Retreat!” Shiro cried as he and Allura carried Keith between them as they ran back.

Hunk covered their escape, Lance lay on the ground, unmoving.

Up on the roof, Mero stared. “Oh, wow… this is like, going way better than I expected it to...”

“Indeed...” Haggar hummed through the psychic link. “To turn the Emerald Ranger against her comrades was a move even I did not think of! Perhaps I should base all my future Robeasts off you, to ensure power and cunning...”

Mero looked nervous. “Okay, so like... before you go poking into my brain, and stuff, I just choose the green one like, at random? I didn't know this was all going to happen, you know…?”

Haggar sighed heavily. “Of course...”

“Shiro!” Hunk cried as they stood around Lance. “What do we do?”

Shiro gritted his teeth. “Let me think...”

“Minions!” Pidge cried as she raised her arm. “Attack the blue one! Finish him off, then get the rest! I don't care how many of you fall, just do it!”

The Galra Troopers all looked at each other in confusion, before they shrugged, and attacked.

“Hey!” Mero cried. “I'm the one in charge here!”

Pidge opened her visor to glare at her. “Oh, I'm sorry: do you want to actually win this fight or no?!”

Mero reeled. “… Gosh, no need to be a bitch about it!” she turned to the Galra. “Minions! Do what she says, I guess...!”

The rangers stared at the incoming swarm in horror, before they raised their weapons.

Hunk began to take potshots at the swarming Galra. “Shiro...?! What do we do?!”

“Keith: get Lance somewhere safe! Hunk: fend off those Galra! Allura, with me: we're taking out Mero and getting Pidge back!

“GO!”

Keith threw Lance over his shoulder and ran into the nearby streets, Allura and Shiro charged straight into the horde.

Some of the Galra slowed down, preparing to engage them.

“Keep going!” Pidge cried. “Ignore them: get the Blue one! We may lose this battle, but watch them crumble when one of them dies!”

“Sweet Shepherd, Pidge!” Keith cried as he laid Lance against the side of a building. “Who's side are you on?!”

“Not yours!” she shouted back through their helmets.

Lance groaned in pain.

Keith's eyes widened as he knelt down beside him, grabbed him by the shoulders. "Lance? Lance!" he cried as he shook him. "Don't die on me now, man, we're going to make it through this like we always do!"

Lance coughed. "Pidge... get Pidge...! I need Pidge!"

"Uh, newsflash for ya: she's still brainwashed and crazy! She's the one that stabbed you, for fuck's sake!"

"I know. I want her to stab me again."

Keith groaned and dropped Lance.

“Ow! Come on, man, I'm dying over here!”

“Well bleed out with your head down!” Keith said as he turned around and readied his sword—the swarms of Galra had gotten too close for Hunk's comfort, and he was now running as fast as he could to them.

Meanwhile, Shiro and Allura raised their suits' grappling hooks to the rooftop Mero was standing on. They were about to fire, when an EMP exploded and shorted out their gear. They turned their heads to Pidge, standing nearby with her finger still on the “gadget-panel” of her gauntlet.

They couldn't see her smug smirk for the designs of their helmets, but they could just tell.

They readied their weapons.

“Stand down, Pidge!” Shiro called out. “We don't want to hurt you!”

Pidge laughed. “Oh, I know—which is why you're all going to lose,” she growled as she crouched low, her dagger held at the ready.

Allura stepped forward. “I'll handle her—your reflexes may be good for a human, but you're no match for a Fae, however skilled.”

Shiro nodded, and looked up at Mero. “Guess I'm going up the old-fashioned way…!” he cried as he charged into the nearest building, breaking through the doors and running towards the nearest set of stairs.

Pidge turned around and tried to fire her grappling hook at his leg, before her ears twitched. She ducked just as Allura's staff came swinging past her head. She retaliated with a dagger thrust, one Allura just barely dodged herself.

“Snap out of it, Pidge!” Allura cried as they began to fight, dodging and dancing around each other, their attacks just barely missing one another. “I really don't want to hurt you!”

Pidge jumped back, somersaulting through the air and landing on all fours. “Good, because that works out great for me!” she yelled as she pounced.

From above, Mero watched as Allura barely blocked Pidge with her staff, former staggering back as she tried to stab and slash her with her dagger. “Uh… like, do you need any help or something...?”

“I'VE GOT THIS!” Pidge yelled.

“Are you sure?” Mero asked. “It kinda looks like you're losing down there, and those guys at the back are having a really hard time!”

“JUST SHUT UP, AND LET ME DO MY THING!”

Mero gasped, before she scowled. “Rude! Who does that little twerp think she is?”

“Someone vastly more effective than you have been so far...” Haggar hummed.

Mero gasped in offense. “Excuse me? Whose side are you on?!”

“Whoever is the strongest and most cunning...” Haggar replied, watching the duel between Pidge and Allura with interest.

Inside the building, Shiro pounded up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time before he burst through a door leading out to the roof. He looked around, cried in frustration as he realized he had ended up behind and several stories below Mero.

Then, his suit's gadgets hummed back to life. He grinned as he fired his grappling hook to just below the roof Mero was on and began to rocket up towards her.

In the back-lines, the other rangers were backed into a corner, Keith desperately holding his shield up to block a constant rain of blows and bullets, while Lance and Hunk blindly fired into the swarm—wherever they pointed, they were going to hit a Galra.

“Guys, we've got Pidge back, right?!” Keith cried. “'Cause we're not going to last much longer back here!”

“I'm afraid”--Allura ducked--”that she's going to have to”--she somersaulted backwards, avoiding a furious series of slashes from Pidge--”sit this one out!”

She swung for Pidge's head, one end of her staff connecting with her helmet.

Crack!

Pidge flew off, flying off to the side and into a bench. The wood broke apart on impact, Pidge lay in the wreckage, groaning in pain.

Allura stared in horror. “PIDGE!” she cried as she rushed over to her. “Oh Eluna, are you alright?!”

Pidge groaned and slowly raised her head. “Ugh…! What happened…?” she muttered.

“You were under the spell of that horrid wench Mero,” Allura replied as she grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “Thankfully, I seem to have knocked you out of it!”

Pidge's visor opened, revealing glimmering purple eyes. “Actually: you didn't.”

Faster than Allura could react, she thrust her dagger into her chest.

At the same time, Shiro tackled Mero from behind, wrapping his arms around her as they flew off the roof and headed straight for the ground.

Allura collapsed, twitching as stray sparks fell from Pidge's dagger.

She chuckled as she stepped around her. “Too easy...” she hummed as she looked at the concentration of Galra in the distance.

Her ears twitched as she heard something very large falling through the air, very fast.

Pidge looked up, her eyes widening as she just barely avoided getting crushed by Mero and Shiro.

Thud.

Mero's impact broke the pavement and the mind control.

Pidge blinked, her eyes growing wide in horror as everything that had just happened came flashing through her mind. She looked at Shiro, pushing himself up from Mero, at Allura, writhing on the floor, then back at the swarms of Galra overwhelming the others.

She rushed back to Allura, picked her up and held her dagger to her neck. “MINIONS! RANGERS! EVERYONE! STOP!”

Keith's shield broke, bullets and strikes struck him unimpeded. He was about to slash with his sword for his final stand, when Pidge's face with her now-normal eyes showed up inside all the rangers' helmets, invisible to the enemy.

Confused, the Galra Troopers stopped attacking, though they didn't let their guard down, still aiming their guns at the others and holding their melee weapons at the ready.

“I suggest you rangers surrender now,” Pidge growled. “I'm sure we can all see that you've lost this battle, and all that you can really change is how quick and painless you want your deaths to be.”

Mero threw Shiro off of her, and brushed off stray bits of cracked concrete off her body. “Alright, go Green Girl!”

“Shut up! Gah, I can feel my brain cells dying every time you open your mouth!”

Mero scowled and crossed her arms. “Hmph!”

“Minions: bring the other rangers back to me. I want them all to see each other one last time, before I end them.”

“Do it...” Allura muttered, feigning hopelessness.

“And make it quick, minions!” Mero added. “We've got a LOT of things to do when I take over this city!”

Haggar frowned. “Something's up.”

“No worries, Boss, I got this!” Mero said.

Haggar was about to speak up, before Zarkon stopped her. “Let her be...” he hummed.

The Galra minions marched Keith and Hunk back to Pidge at gunpoint, while Lance was unceremoniously thrown over the shoulder of one of the giants.

“Agh! Hey! I'm pretty sure I've got cracked ribs or something here, be more gentle, will you?!”

The Galra ignored him.

Soon, the Rangers were all pilled up by Pidge's feet, their heads hung in defeat and their weapons laying abandoned on the ground.

“So like, this is it, right?” Mero asked. “We win and I get to totally take over this city?”

“Oh, Valentino's going to be part of the Galra Empire alright—just not with you ruling over it,” Pidge replied calmly.

Mero grinned, before she realized just what she had said. “Wait, what…?” she asked, her face falling. “You're on my side, aren't you? I mean hello, we're all Galra here!”

“Not anymore you're not...” Pidge muttered as she raised her hand. “Minions! Prepare to get rid of this sorry excuse for a Robeast!”

Mero looked at her in disbelief, before she stared in horror at the Galra troops aiming their guns at her, coming in closer with their weapons at the ready. “Boss? Lady Haggar?! Emperor Zarkon! You're not going to let her do this, are you?!”

Haggar huffed. “You've 'got this,' don't you…?”

Mero's eyes widened as the Galra formed a circle around her.

Pidge stepped back closer to the others. “Before you all fire and destroy Mero over there, I'd just like to say:

“Thanks for falling into my trap!”

Pidge blasted out a wave of healing energy, bringing all the rangers back up to their feet.

The Galra and Mero couldn't see her smug grin, but they could just tell.

[asylum-miniatures]

Session 27, AGAIN, REALLY!

Part 1, YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN

As we walk back, reality suddenly ripples and Vex was suddenly with us the entire time.  We finally make it back to the Kobold camp, the little guys looking in awe at Telon’s “dragon cannon”.  He’s walking, swagger in his step, smirk on his face.  I big up our profession, announcing to all that could see and hear “behold, we have brought back your god”, all in an effort to further ingratiate ourselves to the locals.  I am forced though, to get *shudder* draspher to translate for me (I had hoped the GM had forgotten that little detail).  

The chief is overjoyed at this news.  He announces that for his good deed in finding and helping us, Meepo has officially redeemed himself in his people’s eyes, and is welcome to re-join the tribe.  Telon then makes careful phrasing as he “passes the chief the dragon, just like he asked me too”.   Of course, the second he does this he’s not holding onto the scarf anymore and it turns back into cloth and the dragon is free.  Funny that, who could have seen that coming………..

The dragon starts hovering and hissing, getting ready for round two.  draspher responds immediately.  Which is to say he has a reasonable idea in hitting it with an adhesive spittle spell, and messing it up with a natural 1.  Needless to say, the chief doesn’t take GETTING GLUED TO THE FLOOR VERY WELL.  He tries bluffing, telling him “don’t worry, that armour should protect you” but he doesn’t buy it, pissed as hell at getting glued to the floor by the “heroes” he was just congratulating.  Ocelot is torn, OOC, between his desire to shoot the dragon to stop it or shoot draspher for what he did to appease the Kobolds.  As his team leader, I approve both of those options.

Meanwhile the rest of us get to work dealing with the dragon.  Yolan uses his lock gaze ability to force the dragons focus to him, while I turn invisible and get in place, grabbing something from my bag to deal with it.  draspher finally gets his act together and uses haste to speed us up, just in time for Vex to charge it and grab the dragon before it can try to fly away.  Ocelot runs in and grabs his head, aiming it away from anyone in case it starts trying to use its ice breath again, ‘coincidently’ aiming it in drasphers direction.

It might not have been too bad if it had gone off though.  The royal guards have gone after the double-crossing sorcerer that attacked their leader.  They both leap him, one of them getting a good grip, making the poor spellcaster flail in panic at the fact a dragon midget is wrapped around his head.  Seeing this I have a moral crisis like I’ve never had before.  On the one hand, I could throw the tanglefoot bag at the dragon while Vex is holding it keeping it in place.  On the other hand, draspher is right there, with another dragon on him.  This is my big chance to pay him back for the time he glued a psycho to my chest.

Yolan starts trying to defuse the situation.  He carefully makes his way to the chief and gestures that he wants to help.  He manages to cross the language barrier, and convince him he’s on the up and up.  He then uses his great strength to peel the chief off the floor.  Meanwhile the dragon has started blasting the floor with its icy breath, prompting me to pick stopping it before things get worse.  I reappear, dash over to vex and tell her to hold it still.  I then slather the dragon in the condense of the tanglefoot bag to stop it moving and keep its mouth closed.  I also coved its mouth and nostril, its starting to suffocate.  His lungs should have enough air to keep from dropping dead immediately, but we’re going to want to get him caged soon before the glue wears off.  

Ocelot grabs the dragon from Vex and charges out of the room, yelling at draspher to hurry up and fix the cage.  Draspher suddenly remember he has a dragon himself, and gets Mee to cast sleep on his hanger on, then dashes after Ocelot to use mending yelling apologies to the chief as he runs.  Vex quickly follows after, tripping over the two Kobolds on the floor, leaving me Yolan and Telon behind.  Telon starts gesturing to me to steal the key since I’m team rogue/ninja.  I, being the SMART ROGUE, sign back my reluctance to ruin things entirely with the only group we’ve ever met and genuinely helped, and tell him to wait until there’s no option of us getting it legitimately getting the key off them before stealing it as we leave rather than in front of a huge crowd keeping an eye on us.   He might have the rest of them fooled, BUT I KNOW WHAT HE WAS UP TOO.  DRASPHER MIGHT BE DUMB ENOUGH TO DO THIS, BUT TELON IS SNEAKY, HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING.  HE PLANNED ALL THIS, PROBABLY TO STEAL THAT KEY!  

During this the leader starts yelling at Yolan, using Mee’s telepathy as a translator.  I quickly go over, apologising for our idiot, not wait I mean….no wait idiot works fine.  The one Kobold guard starts getting up, clearly showing signs of a broken arm.  Yolan suddenly realises the other one isn’t moving at all, and realises Vex accidently killed him when she stepped on him.  With everyone’s focus on me he silently moves over and casts invisibility on the body so no-one will notice.

While I negotiate with the chief/keep an eye on Telon to stop him stealing the key.  This is what I’ve been reduced to, the rogue keeping the others on the straight and narrow.  YOU SEE WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME TELON! DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME!  Despite this he still goes to the key, but a quick check shows that he’s still being watched.  I explain to the chief my predicament, that “I am intelligent man stuck babysitting fools, but I swear that just as we brought your god back, we will do right by you”.

Anyway, as I’m doing this the others deal with the dragon.  Ocelot manages to stick the dragon to the cage floor and use a dagger to cut the dragons nostrils free so it can breathe.  He then dives out of the cage before it can free itself and yells at draspher to fix it quick.  Vex charges into the cage to hold the dragon still, but trips over the bars and ends up falling into it, getting stuck to it.  Meepo runs in after her, desperate to do anything to help in his duty to guard the dragon.  This heroic charge leads head first into the pile, getting literally “stuck in”.

Part two, moving forward

10 minutes pass and the others manage to fix up the cage while I fix up our relations with the tribe.  For the record, draspher has managed to become the enemy of an entire culture with a single low level spell.  How is this THE SECOND TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED.  I swear at this point hes turning out to be the final boss of this campaign.

I negociate a future aligance with the Kobolds.  At some point we will need there help with something, and they will help us out.  We will also help them out in turn, and part of this is us dealing with the goblin problem for them once and for all.  In truth, it’s not that hard for us to deal with the goblins, and we needed to go further into there territory to find the other adventurers anyway, its win win.  First step to this is get draspher to collaps the unstable tunnel with a fireball.  We then get Vex to heal us up and the chief gives us a place to stay for a few hours to recharge.

Once we are fully rested we set off on the long way around.  We find a door, untrapped, but unable to be opened.  draspher manages to find runes on the door, reading “channel good to go through”.  This sparks one of our signature massive argument on whether a cure wounds spell would do it, or would it only work with a channel energy.  We finally get Yolan to try a cure light wounds spell, but it only has a mild effect, so we have to get vex to channel for us.  We decide to get her to keep two lay on hands in reserve to open the door on the way back, then start heading in.

Inside we find 5 sarcophagi, each with a noble, almost elf like human inscribed.  draspher is convinced its vampires, so he draws his crossbow.  He then immediately realises he’s terrible, so he puts it away immediately after.  Ocelot want to jury rig a torch with a light spell, a rock and a tube but I point out I have a bulleye lantern and give him that instead.  He now holds it up with his third arm to light up the room.

We go in order, first I go in checking for traps as I go.  Yolan follows after, then Vex.  She checks the door and realises that it’s slowly closing on us.  We have about 10 minutes before it closes fully, but it’s closing.  Annoyed at how slow Vex is in getting out of the way, he uses his boots to literally jump over her in the small gap in the doorframe.  She gets the hint and goes in the room, Telon and draspher head in the room.  Yolan gets straight to checking the door:

Yolan – looks clear Jaune – give it a try Yolan – do you want to come closer? Jaune – no, we’re good here

He gives it a try, and a blade slices down, dealing 19 damage to him.  See, this is why none of us got close Yolan.   Just then the door slams shut, knocking draspher aside for 2 damage.

Part three, difficulty spike

Ocleot checks out the room.  He finds a couple of items on a small table (a flask and a glass wistle) and goes to grab it.  The sarcophagi then burst open, Vex and I just manging to avoid the slabs flying across the room.  One goes to attack me and draspher summons three giant spiders in the holes.  Yolan gives a bless to the party, and Ocleot checks the vial but can’t figure it out, so he just opens fire at the one attacking me for 13 damage.

The skeletons then crawl out, cutting down the spiders in a single blow, not even slowed down by their presence.  The Gm points out that they didn’t even have to roll, there base attack bonus is such they could hit and kill them easily with there damage dice.  I use kage bonshin no jutsu, but I only manage to create a single copy.  A single clone that is immediately a critical hit by the skeleton attacking me, and gets two more hits on me for 18 damage, nearly half my health in a single round.  

This gets the group moving.  Telon tries to bulrush the one attacking me but fails to move him an inch, while Vex moves to hold off two before they can get out of there holes.  Yolan gets his destruction judgement and swings for 23 damage on the fifth one.  draspher finally gets to doing something useful and gets haste on everyone and Ocelot uses this speed to unload on the fourth one rolling 3d8+48, getting 68 damage.  The thing is that after that it’s still standing not looking that worse for wear.  This has us all worried.  What’s even worse is when the second one gets into flanking to attack me.

I step out of that flank to start one of my own.  I get into position with Yolan and get a full attack, two hits for 26 damage.  That is also the first time I’ve ever actually been in a flank to full attack in all the time I’ve been playing with these guys.  They all either die too fast or my teammates never set me up, so this is the first time I’ve been able to play to my strengths, *sniff* sorry I’m getting emotional.

The skeletons start their counterattack.  Yolan takes a graze for 5 damage.  draspher gets the idea to cast grease on the floor so it would trip one up, and the skeleton comes out on top of the patch, only to not be affected in the least.  Turns out the dc to beat is 14, but these guys have a reflex save of 12.  The GM is pulling out the big guns to give us a challenge.  That one moves to hit me but the GM finds out just how good my new Confounding blade ability giving me a temporary +10 to my AC until the next round.

Telon moves, taking hits from the first and second skeleton for 8 damage, and goes to attack the fifth zombie, getting a crit for 28 damage. Vex activate her weapon charge to get holy on her sword, hitting one for 17 damage.  draspher checks the glass whistle, thinking that it might be the key to getting rid of them.  It has nothing to do with anything as far as he can tell.  So instead he just casts enlarge person on Yolan.  My good position ends as Yolan ABANDONS ME to go attack the fifth skeleton for 30 damage.  Fortunately, Ocelot intercedes saving me from the fourth skeleton with one bullet reducing it to ash with 18 damage as he aims the other two shots at the first, hitting for 22 and 19.  One takes a swing at Vex while the first attacks Ocelot for 10 damage.

Seeing a chance, I move off and draw my bow, getting a shot at the fifth one for 20 damage.  Yolan gets raked by him with 2 claws for 18 damage, as Telon dodges an attack from the Third one.  Vex starts laying into the second one, getting two hits for 40 damage total, while draspher does the only thing he can do to help and enlarges Telon.  At the same time Mee tries opening the door, but without a channelled energy he can’t open it.  Telon tries to attack but misses, oddly managing to roll three 6’s.  

We start making headway, Yolan lays into the fifth one and hits three times, with 73 damage reducing them it into dust.  Ocelot steps back to reload, leaving draspher vulnerable.  The first skeleton moves to attack him, taking a couple of attacks for 20 damage from us as it moves to him.  I get a shot off on him for 27 damage, joining in the *shudder* rescue attempt.  

Despite their amazing stats, there is no accomidating for sheer bad luck.  Or in our case, the GM’s frankly terrible rolls.  Despite constant attacks, its only now one of them managed to get a hit on Vex for 8 damage, while the third one misses Yolan.  draspher retreats, taking a hit for 9 damage but the rest of us finally get this sorted.  Telon gets two hits on the second skeleton for 32 damage, killing it, while Ocleot does the same with the one attacking draspher with 67 damage.  Vex gets three hits and a crit for 61 damage or to be more accurate 2d8+12+3d6+12+4d6 damage.  Needless to say she kills it.

Part four, wrap up

With the skeleton’s dead, we finally have a chance to assess the situation.  draspher finally has a chance to examine the whistle, and figures it must be some kind of summoning whistle, but he can’t tell what kind.  I check around and while the bodies have nothing on them, the sarcophagi are filled with gems and platinum, which ocelot and I just pile into our respective bags of storage.  draspher looks around and realises that the candle on the wall is an ever burning one.  He suggests putting it in a candelabra until we point out Ocelot has a bull’s eye lantern and he replaces the light spell rock with it.  Ocelot also figures out the flask this all started with was just a potion of fire resistance.  We also leave the Kobold in the hall, and I find well aged “elf jerky” in the sarcophagi as well.

Now we’ve finished looting, we start trying to work out how to leave.  As I start trying to disable the trap Ocelot starts feeling drowsy, noting something wrong with the air.  We realise the oxygen is running out in this air tight tomb.  I borrow drasphers amulet of adaptation so I can’t lose consciousness before getting the door open.  After ages I get the door untapped and unlocked, but it still won’t open.  The vacuum effect is keeping it closed.  All together we push and push, and it’s only after 10 minutes and Telon remembering his rage that we get the door open.

We finish there.  The gm admits he nerfed the zombies from there original, taking way their damage and magic resistances.  If we had done it right, then the reduction/good, and reduction/piercing would have meant only Vex and Telon could have hurt them, possible a celestial summon as well.

Embarrassments to the guild – 6, the bear, draspher getting mugged, draspher growing antlers in a magic school, meeting the king (2), falling down a pit, killing one of the guys we were supposed to find

Jaunes brave advances towards future victory – 11, when jess attacked in the night, the barn, the demons, the fear from Anubis and running from the dust jackal, the fight in the Whitewater compound both at the start and at the end (2), escaping the killer clockwork to talk down lady Ezrisha, at the end of the first training mission, going to get the guards rather than help with the poisoner, from the skeletons

Times draspher did good – 4, The enlarge person spell, taking out a dragon, mending train tracks, taking out a room of goblins with a single spell  

Times draspher did bad – 15, ghost sounds through the glass window he had previously been told was too thick, nearly giving away the groups connection to southwater to a complete stranger, the antlers, getting mugged, announcing he was mugged by kids, announcing he was going after kids to beat the crap out of them, nearly hitting me with adhesive spittle AGAIN, killing the guy we were supposed to find, wondering off (2), getting me with ghost sounds for no reason, costing us the element of surprise when faced with a dragon, getting a dragon in his trousers, greasing himself, sticking the kobold chief to the floor

Team members drilled over – 21, Vex getting shot in the back, Yolan getting a dragon dropped on him, draspher and Yolans spells backfiring, draspher getting mugged, Telon down a hole, I find a secret door filled with skeletons,  getting eaten by a slime, ocelot misfires (2), ocelots warning sending us into a shooting range, draspher dropping to the ground to get shot, Ocelot and the spear trap, dragon in trousers, dragon glued to chest, dragon and Yolan glued to chest, dragon and Yolan glued to chest and greased, Telon triggering Yolans alarm spells, dragon and Telon glued to chest, Yolan wondering into a room full of enemies by himself, draspher getting the blame for the dragon incident

Terms confused/forgotten – 4.5, the guild name, the fact we had papers (.5), the collages, the tournament name, mr Quinn link

Friends made – 1, Meepo (who has already proved himself more likeable, trustworthy and helpful than draspher ever will)