#don't look too closely at orym he was the last one done and i was starting to give up :D

[hexxxcapades]

bell's hells portraits!

[unicyclehippo]

You’ve been nailing it with these last drabbles! If you’re looking for prompts, taste?

'this is the tree?'

orym looks grave. appropriate. or not, seeing as laudna never got one.

the tempest rests her hand against gnarled bark. smiling, she says, 'this is the sun tree. the sign of whitestone and a very old friend. and-'

'- where she was hanged,' imogen interrupts.

orym, at her knee, sends her a look of... it's not reproach. it's gentler than that. disapproval, maybe.

the tempest blinks. beneath her antlers—imogen can't tell if they're growing out of her head or whether it's a headress—her calm expression twists. still calm but weightier, lined with grief, memory.

'it was a different whitestone. the same tree, but,' her fingers stroke gently along the ridged bark. 'you wouldn't recognise it if you had seen it then. it was dying, like everything else here.'

imogen, too close and too frayed to close her mind, is surprised—angry—to catch sorrow in her thoughts. for the tree. laudna had been hanged - had actually died back then but her sorrow is for the tree?

the tempest continues. 'i am sorry for not warning you. my ability requires a certain type of tree - size, mostly, but age and power doesn't hurt - and this is... well. in closest proximity. we are in a hurry, aren't we?'

imogen wants to tell her that this has nothing to do with her. she bites her tongue instead, hard, and recasts a spell to calm her mind.

green eyes catch the subtle motion of her hand and they sharpen, wary, before recognition blooms. she looks like she wants to say something. imogen sets her chin stubbornly; the tempest looks away first.

'from what i understand, you need help bringing a friend back.' she looks sidelong. out of the corner of her eye, imogen sees a bundle of yellow. 'i've sent ahead to my friend - a cleric - who can help with this sort of thing.'

'they've done it before?' FCG asks.

'she has.'

'and she'll help? she's - willing?' orym adds. 'we asked - we asked a lot of people and they all said this kind of thing is a miracle and protected. but you've done it before, for me, tempest -'

'she'll help, if she can,' the tempest says, and then smiles. 'hello, orym.'

orym returns the smile like the moon reflecting the sun. he stands taller, as though a weight has been lifted, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. a little colour returns to his face, wan and drawn as it has been.

'tempest.' he bows low—tries to, at least, but she catches him. curls her fingers around his shoulder and holds him tall.

'you're not my guard anymore, orym—you don't need to bow.'

'you didn't let me bow then, either. if i remember right, you said you'd lose me under everyone.'

the tempest's cheeks flame red.

imogen doesn't like it. it's too - it's too normal a thing for someone who is going to help them perform a miracle.

'that wasn't- you - i did when you were a guard,' she says, nearly splutters. 'that was when you were ten. and it was a legitimate concern back then,' she says with a little laugh, holding her hand down around her knee, and it makes orym smile broaden into a grin, a cheeky expression, light-hearted. rare for him, usually so solemn.

a fire burns in imogen's belly. all week she's been feeding it—fear and anger and guilt and guilt and guilt—and it has kept it all at bay, kept her going when she wanted to curl up in the dark and. stop. but not, they're talking—orym, her friend, laudna's friend and this - this miracle woman, his perfect hero leader - and they're talking and laughing like they haven't a care in the world, like the world isn't fucking broken. the fire flares, crackles in her belly, her chest, her hands.

'this reminiscin' is real swell,' imogen says, tone scorched dry. cracking. 'real fun. but i'd like to do something. now, if that's alright with you. or do we have to wait for everyone to hug and introduce themselves first?'

'imogen—'

'don't. don't try and calm me down because i am already calm, orym. laudna is—' imogen swallows. that word - that awful word - tastes like ash and embers, burns all the way down. 'we have to do something.'

'we are. she brought us here, where laudna's going to have the best chance—' he stops when his tempest touches his shoulder again.

'i should have explained,' the tempest says, and imogen can tell from her intent that it is part apology and part anchor point, weighted steadiness. it might even have been calming, as intended, if not for the fact that it was way too fucking little, way too fucking late. 'my friend isn't in whitestone.' she forestalls six exclamations with a raised hand. 'as soon as she sends back to me that she is ready, i will bring her through.' she pats the tree again.

'how long-'

'once i hear from her, she will arrive as quickly as we did. just a few seconds. after that...' the tempest shakes her head. the gesture dislodges a flower nestled in her antlers; it falls from its perch and drifts to the ground, disappears behind one enormous root of the tree. 'i would only be guessing.'

from where he is perched on a massive knot of roots, chetney says, 'guess, then. you're the awesomely insanely powerful one here, aren't you?'

orym tenses at his tone but the tempest doesn't even blink.

'this afternoon or tomorrow, if all goes well.'

'this afternoon?'

'if all goes well,' the tempest emphasizes.

imogen nods jerkily. 'this afternoon,' she says again under her breath, squeezes her eyes tight. 'this afternoon. this afternoon.' nerves chew at the tight leash she keeps lashed around her control; when it frays—again—imogen twists her hands at her side, lets her power grip her emotions in a tight fist and lock them down. 'this afternoon.'

for a moment, everyone stands still and silent. no one wants to speak; no one wants to break the moment, delicate as spun glass. they hold it, hold their breath, and let themselves think - hope - that by the time sets their little family will be complete once more.

imogen feeds her brimming hope into the fire before it can break her spell.

//

they wait. five minutes. ten minutes. imogen has to step away—her eyes keep returning to the tempest, lingering, searching for any sign of doubt, any sign of disappointment that might come from the other end of her sending—but moving away doesn't help at all because the sun tree looms over them and imogen keeps searching the branches like there will be a - a plaque or something, some sign that this is where it happened. she rubs at her eye, jabs her thumb into the painful spot beneath her brow and presses hard in a vain hope that it'll help ease the mounting pressure.

ashton shoulders up beside imogen; he's light on his feet and she doesn't notice until he says,

'hey.'

'hey, ash.' imogen's eyes dart over to them. 'you alright?'

they snort. 'stole my question.' imogen stares at them, wills herself to say yes, say something. ashton nods. 'yeah. me neither.'

'does your head hurt after last night?' he just looks at her and she qualifies, 'does it hurt any worse than normal?'

'nah.'

'good. good.' imogen rubs at her eye. drops her hand to her side and strokes a finger over pate's beak.

'can i ask you something?'

imogen tilts her head. it's not a nod, because she can't muster one, but close enough.

'what did you mean? about the tree?'

pain flares behind her eyes. imogen squeezes her eyes shut, hisses.

'fuck. shit - are you okay?'

she doesn't answer. 'laudna died. ages ago, decades ago. this is where it happened.'

'fuck.'

'like. this tree.'

'fuck.'

imogen laughs, just a little huff of air out her nose. 'yeah. that about sums it up.' she looks at the tree. looks at the tempest—still waiting. 'she was there.'

'the tempest?'

'mhm.'

ashton pauses to think about it. then says, heartfelt, 'fuck.'

//

they have been waiting close to an hour when the tempest stands to her feet and tilts her head, eyes going glassy in that way imogen often sees when she is speaking into someone's mind. then, she smiles.

'she's ready. stand back, please. watch your feet mister pock-o-pea.'

'better move, chet, or imogen'll shove you,' fearne teases, and the gnome grumbles but scrambles away from the trunk, down and over the roots until he's standing with the rest of them.

the tempest lifts her staff, touches the gnarled top of it to the trunk; again, they all watch as the bark shifts, wood grain buckling and bowing, and it creaks and groans and splits, green light spilling from the oval gateway.

in a matter of seconds, a small figure—blonde, gnomish, armoured—steps through the gate, which buckles at the edges before it slams shut behind them with a hideous groan of wood, like trees contorting in a fierce wind, moments from breaking. imogen doesn't remember that happening when they came through; she cuts a look over at the tempest and finds her leaning hard on her staff, face grey with exhaustion.

'keyleth. you look awful.'

the tempest laughs. immediately stoops to collect the hug offered to her. 'yeah, well, you treestride three times in a day and tell me how you feel after.'

'three times?'

'it was necessary.'

'we've talked about over-exerting yourself-'

'pike,' the tempest interrupts, gently. 'i'm alright. but our guests are not.'

at that, the newcomer—pike—finally looks around herself. she takes them all in and their keen, knowing look in her eyes that is somehow understanding instead of judgemental, assessing.

'oh dear. that's a lot of unhappy faces,' she says, voice sweet. 'hi there, i'm pike. i'm the head cleric of sarenrae, the everlight, here in whitestone. what's going on?'

with a look to imogen, and a gentle smile when the words stick in her throat, unmoving, orym says, tone reverent, 'blessed of the everlight, we have - a problem.'

'a lot of problems,' ashton adds.

chetney grunts, shoots a stern look across the party. 'but one immediate problem, right?'

'right. kind of a - a big problem, and it's - ashton, do you have her?' fearne asks softly.

pike frowns, looking between them all as they talk but don't say anything. then her eyes are on imogen and imogen can't breathe because the cleric is as reassuring as she is powerful—it hangs around her like a heat haze, her power, and it's terrifying because imogen has spent the last week in exhaustion, casting and recasting on herself to stay calm and the very moment this - this cleric, this healer turns up, her calm is gone and she feels—everything. everything. her power wraps around imogen like a warm hug and it's awful because peace ought to be cold, a cold hug, a cold hand on her cheek, a cold kiss against her forehead, and her calm shatters.

imogen cries out, lurches back with hand raised as if to ward off an attack. a shield, weak, fizzles around her even, instinctual.

'imogen?' ashton sounds startled but his hand is already on his hammer, resigned to the fact that this cleric, their best hope, is attacking them.

'it's fine,' she gasps, 'i'm fine, i'm fine.'

pike is still staring but imogen ignores her, fights against the invasive press of eyes on her to recast her calm. it holds but barely, and it makes her stomach lurch when she realises what it feels like. a sheet of glass dividing her mind. her eyes flicker to ashton, unwillingly, but she doesn't stop the spell. she drags in a breath, fortifies herself. then meets pike's eyes.

'our friend is gone. she - we need her back. i - we need her back. i'll do anything. money, a - a favour, anything.'

the cleric nods but doesn't linger long on her vehemence. 'when you say gone,'

'she's dead,' FCG tells her. imogen closes her eyes. 'we couldn't - i revived fearne,'

'and i revived orym,' fearne says, taking his hand. 'but i couldn't - we could only bring one person back.'

the cleric nods again. 'that sounds terrible.' the words are trite but there's so much warmth and understanding again that a part of imogen softens, relents.

it was terrible. it is terrible. and it still hurts, still feels like the world is breaking, broken, but this powerful cleric sees their hurt and somehow it helps, a little. it's a relief. after so many no's, the fact that she hasn't said no is—it's a relief.

'well. i can't do anything here,' pike says, and claps her hands sharply. 'the chapel is prepared for this sort of thing—'

'pike, wait - hold on.' the tempest kneels, whispers in her ear.

'oh.'

'what? what is it?' imogen demands.

pike gestures to ashton and his bundle. 'may i look at her?'

'why?'

the cleric raises her hands in surrender, peace. she steps forward; imogen wavers, not wanting to be caught in the balm of her presence again but unable to abandon lauda. again. she locks her knees in place and stays, breathes out shakily as she is enveloped in that gentle heat.

ashton lays laudna down, cradles her shoulders in one arm and unwraps the cloth with their other hand.

pike stares down at her. 'i see it,' she murmurs, looks across at keyleth with a nod. 'can you send to—'

'i already did. they'll meet us at the chapel.'

imogen's fingers twist in her handkerchief. 'what are you talkin' about? are you - did you bring us all the way here to tell us you won't help?'

'no. i want to help - i will help,' pike assures her. 'but you need to know, your friend - she's undead.'

'she's not—'

'i'm sorry but she is.'

'she's not,' imogen snarls. 'she's wonderful and vibrant and alive, she's more alive than anyone else in the world.' when the cleric just stares at her sadly, the fire in imogen's belly reaches a point where heat turns to power and she reaches out, her hand and her mind, and connects her mind with pike's. not digging in, not delving, but opening her own instead. opening it, pouring it out—glass shattering, calm shattering—so that pike can see - see laudna as she walks, talks, breathes, eats and sleeps. see laudna laugh, mischievous, as they spook a traveller out of their gold. see laudna cry, from hurt, from fear. see laudna at her side, earnest and sweet and good. the images come fast, two years worth of laudna, of a cool balm against her senses, of kindness unconditional, of trust and everything else that imogen cannot, will not, put into words but which pike can see and sense regardless.

pike lifts her hand. with a pulse of magic, the connection is severed. ended, gently.

'please,' imogen says, voice cracking, and drops to her knees next to laudna. takes her cold hand between both of her own. 'please help us. please.'

[masterqwertster]

Hi!

So I love your writing, especially the prompt thing you've been doing recently. I'm super curious on what you think it would look like after the last little fic with Ashton and Orym, since they have no healers.

Maybe #6, #19 or #27, if you haven't done those or are okay with repeats? With Orym having to accept Ashton and Laudna's help until they can find a way to heal him, since it doesn't seem like he can even lift his arms? Or even accepting help from the other three traveling with them right now.

Or maybe for another focus, Laudna being panicked and scared about him being hurt and almost losing them both, but also worried about Imogen, so she's projecting onto Ashton and Orym to feel in control and maybe a little too pushy about helping him heal and making sure Ashton is alright too.

Thanks! 🤗

Alright, last one for this prompt list (for now) Sorry this one took a while. The prompt decided to fight me, but I got that sucker in the end! 6 "Don't move, you're still hurt." 19 "You need to eat something." Gonna pass on 27 "I'm going to carry you, okay?" since I've done Ashton and Orym both separately and together on that one. And since episode 63 was a whole thing, this references that, just the tiniest bit. Also, my brain decided this is a canon adjacent where Orym, Laudna, and Ashton are off on their own having split from their guests. So it's just the three of them in this little fic. A follow up to this one.

Laudna clutches her boys close.

For a bleak while there, she thought she'd lost them. How could she have gone back to Fearne, to Fresh Cut Grass, and told them their best friends didn't make it? That her reflexes hadn't been fast enough to catch them in a life-saving Feather Fall? And what about her, left alone without her family?

Lucky her, they managed to save themselves.

There's even the pleasant surprise of Ashton returning the hug, pinning her and Orym to their chest. Laudna really does enjoy hugs from the genasi when they're willing. Just the reassuring weight to their arms, the seemingly unshakable solidity to their body and presence, juxtaposed with the absolute care and gentleness they handle her with. Sometimes she'd swear there's nothing more grounding than an Ashton hug.

A hiss escapes the group hug, sending Laudna scrambling backwards as Ashton's arms spring open.

With that space, she fully takes her boys in, almost immediately spotting the problem: Orym's arms look a dreadful mess. Bright red and swollen at the joints, and dislocated too, if she's any judge (and she is, with as often as her own joints will pop out of place).

"Oh. Oh, that doesn't look good at all. Hold still, give me a moment," Laudna worries, hands going into the motions for a Wither and Bloom. Healing is hardly her specialty, but this spell can heal. It doesn't have to kill hurt.

And it's not as much healing as what Fresh Cut Grass or Fearne could provide if they were here, but it is some measure of healing. The worst of the swelling reduces, the redness recedes some, and some nasty cracks and snaps indicate that all the bones have popped back into their sockets.

"Wait," Orym pants out as Laudna's hands begin the motions for a second casting. "S-save the magic. We might n-need it later."

Laudna bites her lip. She really thinks Orym should take a second round of healing, even if it does bring her magic reserves down to uncomfortably-low-should-another-fight-occur. Because it's either her magic or one of their few potions to get the halfling into something better approximating working order.

"Heal him," Ashton commands, cutting through the indecision.

Orym splutters as Laudna quickly completes the spell, trying to be indignant about the used resources even as the tension in his body relaxes a bit more from the second dose of healing.

"Can you hold your shit, or does Laudna need to hit you again?" Ashton demands, no room to lie or evade in their gaze.

With a stubborn jut to his chin, Orym picks up his sword and shield. He only slightly fumbles stowing them away on his back, earning a grunt of approval.

"Alright, let's keep moving," the genasi says, groaning a bit as they lever themself back onto their feet.

"Are you okay?" Laudna has to ask. It can be a little tricky to tell when Ashton is vocalizing his chronic pain or a current injury.

"I'm good," Ashton says, rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands a bit, producing a barely audible popping that Laudna’s fairly certain wouldn’t be audible at all if his body wasn't made of stone. "After all, I'm not the one who caught, like, ten times their body weight and still some-fucking-how held on."

"Are you complaining?" Orym raises an eyebrow at them.

"Nah. Just saying you absolutely fucking needed the healing after doing something that crazy," Ashton easily explains, flicking the halfling's ear.

Orym grumbles, but lets it go.

Laudna, for her part, is very glad Orym managed such an impossible feat, even at great cost to himself. Certainly, having Ashton handle their own weight is always the better option, but needs must. And they obviously got around to it quick enough, since Orym's arms are still attached and the boys did haul themselves back up the cliff.

And maybe, maybe, Laudna spends the rest of the day hovering and worrying. Even though her boys are perfectly fine besides Orym's sore arms, Ashton's sore everything and there's really no need to worry. They're quite capable and can handle themselves. She's seen them in action, so of course she knows that. There's really no need-

"Here. Eat," Ashton grunts, shoving a bowl of stew into her anxiously wringing hands.

"Oh. Oh. I'm alright," Laudna demurs, even as her fingers curl around the warm bowl.

"Eat," Ashton demands again. "I know you don't need much, but you still need some. 'Sides, food is energy and you need to regain yours for-" and he wiggles and flicks his fingers at Orym in what is actually a half-decent impression of her casting Wither and Bloom.

And well. When they put it like that.

Laudna eats her stew.

As they settle down for sleep and watch, Laudna hits Orym with another Wither and Bloom, getting a little sigh of relief from the halfling. Then she spins one last one on Ashton as well for good measure.

"Good night," Ashton intones as almost a threat, flipping her off good-naturedly. And they resettle in their seat, obviously feeling some relief from her spell as well.

"Good night~" she sing-songs back, curling into her bedroll. Her boys live (she can hear them breathing), and soon, all of Bells Hells will be together again.

[dontgofarfromme]

I'm too lazy to go digging through other episodes to find more examples but Orym is a master of redirecting conversations and deflecting from sensitive topics in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion or make people think that he's hiding something and it was so interesting to watch how someone finally got past that instinct in the last ep. I've been tracking this since really early on in the campaign since we all had our very heavy suspicions about Orym's backstory (and let's be real Liam's EXU playlist basically spelled it out), and he's been doing this shit constantly. Looking at last episode, in his convo with Chetney, we have this exchange:

Chetney: I see you got the moons on your sleeve[...]

Orym: It's no alpha male tattoo.

The second Chetney briefly touches on this subject Orym dives right into asking Chetney questions about himself. He doesn't just like idk say thank you and leave it open for more questions, he actively steers the conversation away from himself and eventually even away from the subject of tattoos entirely, in a way that has worked really well previously to get people to forget that they were even discussing Orym in the first place. But this time, Chetney loops right back and asks in a roundabout way several times before getting a straight answer:

Chetney: I see the love

Orym: The love?

Chetney: For the moon!

Orym: Oh yeah.

Chetney: What's that for?

Orym: The ink?

Chetney: Well the moon!

Orym deflects every single indirect question. He says "oh yeah" like it's the end of a conversation, he asks "the ink?" which would've pushed the question broader because Orym has a whole sleeve, I'm sure he could find something else in the art to talk about even if the moons are the central focus of it. It's only once Chetney directly asks "the moons" and Orym is basically backed into a corner of either lying, saying something vague and encouraging more suspicion and curiosity, or telling the truth Chetney that he finally tells Chetney.

It's interesting because otherwise Orym isn't a very secretive or a very manipulative character like I think you might expect from someone this good at hiding things, but even beyond this obviously painful part of his past he has been reluctant to talk about his being from the Air Ashari or the people he knows because of his position there. In his case it feels almost like the secretiveness is coming from two places. One is the fact that in general he's a very genuine and unconceited person and while I don't think he's self-depreciating he is the kind of person who thinks well, it's a pretty big world and there's lots of people and things going on that are more important, who I am and my past and my problems can take a back seat to that. The second is just in the way he talks about Will to Chetney and the tight, pained tone he always gets when he talks about anything nearing the subject. He talks about it like it's raw still, even though it was six years ago. It feels like that's a pain he's used to keeping very close. It seems like talking about it is something that still hurts him deeply, and honestly probably something he hasn't done a lot of. Which explains why he's so resistant to opening up about it now.

(Also according to my extremely unsupported "Orym was hanging out alone in the wilderness for 5 years before EXU" theory which is fueled purely by the timeline and the fact that Orym has apparently never been to a tavern before he met the Crown Keepers in Emon, maybe he intentionally avoided people following Will's death to keep from having to confront that pain at all).

On another note, I think his conversation with Laudna softened him up for this convo with Chetney. I feel like Laudna being able to share the absolute horror of her past with him and then gently leaving the door open to him to talk about his after, but not pushing, may have put him in the right mindset to be able to talk to Chetney. I'm not totally sure he would've otherwise.

[wizard-hubris]

Hi! You seem like someone who really likes Orym and also gets a lot of different perspectives. I have been wanting to get a bit of input to my "problems" with him and why I can't enjoy his character, from someone who has a different opinion.

The thing that bothers me is that I have to say, I do find him boring but not in the 'he's basic and not interesting' way at all. It's more that all three of Liam's main characters so far have been gloomy and had tragic backstories. Obviously Liam has a lot of fun with the last part mainly and it always makes for amazing storylines but as Orym his behavior just doesn't feel all that different to Caleb/Vax. You can do only so much different kinds of acting sad/moody and it just honestly got boring to me.

In short, I know Liam likes tragic backstories and he does it very well, they just all seem to react to their trauma in the same way and behave similarly and this time around nothing about it feels different or special about his behavior which just makes me like him less than the rest.

Hey anon! Looks like I poked some kind of nest with that first answer, haha ^-^" (so many asks! I've never had three anons in my mail at the same day before! Exciting! :D) Thanks for reaching out, let's see what I can do to offer a new perspective for you.

First off, I get that sad and moody isn't for everybody, especially not all the time. That's completely fair and valid. There are tropes and things I get tired of, too, and don't want to focus on in media. If you find it difficult to care for Orym because of that, that is okay. Please don't think it isn't.

That said, I'm really curious how you see Caleb and Vax's personalities because those two seem very different to me, which makes "Orym doesn't feel all that different to those two" already a strange point to me.

First off, I have to admit, I'm not done watching Vox Machina yet by a long shot, so I haven't gotten to Vax's "real doom & gloom phase" yet. He's a laid-back guy who loves playing pranks on his friends. He's fallen in love with a girl and tells the guy he's on-and-off been flirting with about it, so there is no dishonesty between them. He'd do anything for his sister and bickers with her constantly. He's outgoing, a bit (excuse the pun) rogueish and a hopeless bisexual disaster pretty gung-ho about his own safety at times. Yes, he and his sister have a gloomy, dramatic backstory. One that's brought the two of them incredibly close together - you could talk about unhealthy co-dependence there if you wanted, maybe. I know things about that change in some capacity, I've heard about the problems Liam had in that time, but I haven't seen it myself yet, so I'm reserving judgement. But an interesting point maybe: the "main" trauma that most critters seem to have in mind when talking about Vax happens during the game.

Caleb, on the other hand, has his trauma baked into his tragic backstory so wholeheartedly and all-consumingly, that he cannot exist without it. Caleb is all about recovery, growth and forgiving yourself. He is a broken man in the beginning and we see him heal - messily at times and with setbacks inbetween - throughout the game. Caleb is also very different from the person he was before. I feel like I should compare Vax with Bren because, as I said, I'm basically still looking at a Vax "pre-trauma" from what I understand about the VM campaign. But the thing is, we never really get to know Bren. We only know Caleb, although I think we see some aspects of Bren shining through the more Caleb heals. Yes, Caleb gets often painted as the sadboi(tm) but he has a fun streak. It's far less pronounced than Vax's, though, for example. Caleb is a reserved person, a paranoid, desperate man who - for the longest time - thinks of himself first and is hard to trust. He is, in some points a harder, more jagged person than Vax (again, as far as I can tell). There is nobody who hates Caleb more than Caleb. But he's also sort of proud, he carries a lot of hubris despite his self-doubts. I could write an entire essay dissecting Caleb's personality and especially his character arc, but I think I am sort of bringing my point across that Caleb and Vax are vastly different and - at least to me - feel vastly different, too, when I watch the game?

And compare that to Orym - what do we know about Orym so far?

-He's on the quieter side - which is, granted, a bit like Caleb (especially how Caleb started out), but in a much more understated and chill way, whereas Caleb was desperate to get noticed as little as possible.

-He has a bit of a melancholic air to himself, I suppose, but that's just very Liam O'Brien, I'd say. Again, it comes across in a far less raw and hurting way as Caleb, for example, did. It's also not always terribly pronounced, I'd say, it feels more present than it is because he tends to be quiet overall, so we also don't get much of any joy, mirth or other fun.

-He does not want responsibility, he does not want leadership to fall in his hands. That is probably less of an issue with Vax since the group was already established when we met them, but Vax has no problem speaking his mind when he doesn't like something. From what I know of Vax and Orym so far, I'd say it's far more likely for Vax to go do something different from the group than Orym.

-Orym was conceptualised as a support character. First of all, that is a fascinating choice for a Battle Master Fighter, but I think it works with him. Orym isn't afraid to put himself between his friends and something dangerous. He doesn't even really think about it, it seems to be more instinct. He protecc.

-Of course, we don't actually know anything about Orym's backstory yet, but I believe in the "dead husband theory" pretty firmly. Recovery from grief (and maybe growing/stepping out of the shadow a beloved person is/was casting on you? who knows??? I certainly don't, only Liam knows at the moment lol) is still about trauma and drama, but it focuses on very different aspects of tragedy than, say, Caleb's story does.

-Orym is a loyal supporter. He's created for that purpose. It's okay if you like others better or think they're more interesting. Liam wanted Orym so he can help the others shine. Personally, I love that idea very much. And you can also see that in some aspects. Orym is (or tries to be) very conscious about the people around him. He often asks for their opinions to help the group come to a decision. You could call him somewhat of a mediator, bringing people together.

-He has Tired/Exasperated Dad Energy. That's probably partially because the ExU gang is chaotique af. But as the designated person to hold the braincell, he has that right. Orym is the one with the common sense. Only, it's not so common with the people around him. He's a bit of an everyday man, and that might seem boring to some, but it also makes him actually pretty relatable. Something that Caleb (and probably also Vax) are far less so to a certain extent (saying this as somebody who immediately imprinted on Caleb because of his social anxiety).

-Something Liam does really well is putting these "straight-played" characters (not as in sexuality but regarding their function) in absolutely whacky situations. Did you watch ExU? If not, you don't have to, but if you did - please remember not only Nancy, but Orym's pie tasting and how Liam put Orym in Cinna Brightbow's performance as "the victim" (I hope you know what I mean when I choose that word ^-^") for example. Some of the most hilarious scene only work comedy-wise because Orym is involved. And Liam knows that. Liam plays to that.

-We've only had one fight so far, so for anyone who hasn't seen ExU, there's no idea yet what Liam can do when describing fighting moves. I know it might seem very reminiscent of his describing of Caleb using spell components in a certain way, but - idk, there's something about his descriptions that make me excited to play a fighter. And I'm not someone who would usually consider playing a fighter.

I just can't agree with your opinion that Liam's characters feel similar. Quite the contrary. They may deal with similar themes, but the characters feel very varied and nuanced to me. Then again, there is so much we don't know about Orym yet. So much of his personality we haven't discovered yet. We've seen him in one main campaign episode and eight for a mini-campaign with very different circumstances. Do you remember how Fjord was ten episodes into C2? How Caleb was? Yasha?

Give Orym a bit time. I'd say, especially because he is so unterstated, he can pale next to the more colourful cast around him, but that is the same thing that makes him a grounding presence. We don't all vibe immediately with all the characters, but he's someone where I suspect he'll worm his way into many hearts over time. Because that's who Orym is. Steadfast and dependable. A rock. A foundation. Not something you might take note of as special immediately, but something you'd miss as soon as it's gone. He sticks maybe out because he seems a bit "too" normal. But honestly, in a game that's as zany as D&D can be, that can also be a very interesting thing.