#i am currently a bit sick but elf first can save me

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

ive been absolutely enthralled by the tiniest glimps of First in @zhinchino 's Bard Randy AU here and i've got such a one track mind because i was like instantly ELF FIRST ELF FIRST and well

[fallen029]

Nervous

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Mira tilted her head to the side though her eyes betrayed the cute, quirky questioning vibe she was going for as they, instead, seemed rather disbelieving. It was easy for Laxus to note it these days, having fallen like most other in the hall for her typical chaste trickiness and innocuous pretenses over the years, but after being far more than just a guild member to her now for a good number of them as well, he'd begun to pick up on the little things.

Like how she seemed forever trapped in a guilelessness that didn't quite entrap her as well as she thought it did.

But this was fine, the ease at which he disarmed her now, as Mira was able to pick apart the man's own fallacies and walls.

"Yeah," he grumbled to the woman's question, but she only grinned at him, as if victorious, as she picked apart his lies with ease.

"Then why are you biting at your nails?" she asked with round eyes. "You only do that when you're nervous."

And now she'd managed to annoy him.

"Mira-"

"I'm only curious," she insisted with a little shake of her head. "Dragon."

He huffed some, his chest deflating as he finally gave her his full attention. They were in the bar, as they typically were, but Mirajane had actually found a moment to take a break. Rest. S-Class trials were, at that very moment, going on and those who hadn't been chosen were sulking away from the guild for the time being while a decent sized group was off being put through the rigorous trials and tribulations that were associated with being designated part of the elite group of mages that were Fairy Tail S-Class wizards.

Laxus had no reason to be nervous.

He'd claimed his spot many years before and, at times, wondered if he even had eventually surpassed the old geezer all together. He'd be a wizard saint, someday, he knew, or at least told himself so, and that meant that he had far more concerns than something as silly as a guild distinction.

Not when may one day have the distinction among the entire continent.

S-Class trials had nothing to do with him and, if anything, he was mostly just glad to find that bar emptied out some that day.

"It's okay," Mira assured him then though and when she reached across the table, it was to grab his hand, pulling it down so that she could caress it as she looked deeply into the slayer's eyes. "I am too."

"You are what too?" he asked dumbly, confused equally by her words as he was calmed by her gesture.

"Nervous," she insisted.

"About what?"

"The same thing as you."

"I'm not," he told her, "nervous."

"Laxus-"

"What do I have to be nervous about, huh?" Then, frowning, he questioned, "What do you?"

"Well, actually, I'm nervous about a lot of things," she said, releasing his hand, but only so she could bring her own up to her cheek and rest her head there then, as she thought. "I have a shipment of meat that hasn't come in yet and I know, this weekend, if I don't get it, that I'll have to serve meals without any meat portion and the guys will be pretty upset about that, which will affect my tips, and I've been trying to save up money for my wedding. Which brings me to my next point, I've been saving for a wedding that can't yet happen because my boyfriend is dragging his feet with proposing to me even though we've talked about it a thousand times-"

"Mira," he warned, but she only shrugged.

"The dog I look after was sick last night, too," she finished. "I'm nervous about that."

Laxus, with a slight breath, questioned, "What's wrong with him?"

"He has the shits."

And he blinked. Then narrowed his eyes while the woman only gazed right back with hers earnest and honest.

Shrugging some then, Laxus said, "If you need help wrangling him down to a vet, I could-"

"Oh!" Mira sat up then. "And I'm super nervous because my baby brother is off on the S-Class trials and I want him to preform well." Shrugging, she added, "But I'm torn, because I also want all of my friends to do well. Including your best friend. Freed."

Laxus' face fell then as he realized he'd been duped (possibly; her street dog did have a hefty amount of ailments from time to time) and only looked off once more as he remarked, "Sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Laxus. To be nervous about such things." Sighing, she said, "It means that you care. About them. To be nervous for someone else. I want them all to come back, knowing that even though they can't all be the winner, at least invigorated and ready to start right back at training and trying their hardest to, eventually, be that winner. It's an honor to be nervous on someone's behalf. I'd gladly take all of Elf's nerves if it meant he could put all his focus into the trials right now."

Laxus snorted. "Yeah, well, bully for you. Freed can take care of his damn self. I don't need to worry about him, like you and your loser brother."

"Behave."

Snorting, the man looked off before saying, "I'm not worried. Over Freed. Or anything."

"Fine. Not worried then." Mira had lost some of her jolliness at the slight her boyfriend had sent towards her absent brother. "But you are thinking about it. Aren't you? Even just a little? He's your best friend. I would at least think-"

"I'm," he insisted to her with a finality in his tone he usually reserved for literally anyone who wasn't his demon, "not nervous about the S-Class trials. Or worried. Or concerned. Alright?"

Sighing, she looked off for a moment, considering the slight surge of people that had come in in the last ten minutes or so and weighing in her mind whether or not her break was officially over. Not quite ready to let it go though, when her eyes drifted back to her boyfriend, it was with another set of words on her tongue.

"If you're not nervous about the trials," she began in that tone and it was enough, just on its own, to make him regret coming into the hall that day, "then that must mean that you're nervous about something else, so what is it? Huh? Is it that you've been seeing someone else?"

"Mira, what?"

"Some other woman, is it, then? Who is she, Laxus? Huh? Don't think that I wont' make a scene here, right now, in front of everyone, because-"

"What are you-"

"-if you don't tell me what it is that you're so nervous about, then I have no choice but to assume that you're cheating on-"

"I'm nervous for my friend, alright?" And he usually wouldn't take such a tone with her, but he did then, snapping some, out of aggravation and, maybe it was a trick of the lights, but the woman could have sworn she even saw a flick of his fangs as the vein on the side of his head bulged and his eyes darkened. "I want him to be S-Class with me and I'm worried that your stupid brother or one of those other idiots will get it over him. Or that...that… He'll fuck it up himself. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?"

No.

The other people around the guildhall did not.

But they had, quite clearly, heard nearly every word of his little outburst and, feeling all those eyes on him now only made the man growl louder. He was primed for a retreat, storming off and staying away from the hall for a few days, until he could stomach a return without smashing in the face of the first person who questioned him.

Mirajane, however, wasn't going to let this happen.

Because, yes, she had been very happy with the explosion of information that had just fallen out of the slayer's mouth. She'd only been prodding at him her entire break. For it to result in such a satisfying revelation meant it hadn't all been for not.

"Awe," Mirajane giggled, clapping her hands at the slayer's misery. "You guys are just such good friends, huh, dragon? You feel a lot better, don't you? Getting that off your chest?"

"No," he told her with the same candor that he'd just exposed himself and his nerves to the entire guildhall. "I feel worse."

"Well," Mira hummed as, job complete, she got to her feet once more, she offered, "I feel better. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Demon." The moniker was more of a proclamation than an endearing term. "You're evil."

"I love you," was her purest of explanations and she meant it too, he could tell, as her deep blues flashed a bit of hurt. "Helping you admit your feelings for your friends is how I show that."

"Yeah, well," he muttered under his breath, "then you need to find new ways."

Laxus took off that night, before her shift was finished, but that was fine with the woman as she'd more than begun staying most nights at his apartment.

When she arrived, he was flicking through an old atlas, comparing it to a current map. Something for a job, was all he grumbled to her when she lightly questioned, and Mira let his tone go because, well, she had been rather insistent before, at the bar, and all things considered, he hadn't outright acted a fool.

Just mostly.

"If Elfman doesn't make S-Class," she did whisper, eventually, over dinner that night and she saw the man roll his eyes, thinking she was trying to goad him back into a conversation, "I'll cry."

Grunting, he only continued to stab at the steamed vegetables at his plate, never rightly bringing them up to his mouth, but not quite ready to admit, when he insisted in a huff that he be the one to make them, that this was a bad idea.

"Of course," she hummed again, "if he makes it, I'll probably cry then, too."

"Mira?"

"Yes?"

"I already told you what you wanted to hear," he told her plainly. "What else do you want from me?"

"I'd like you to make a big emotional plea again," she replied back with the same amount of flatness that it almost made the slayer recoil. At the sight of it though, she broke some as, with a giggle, she admitted, "I'm just talking, dragon. About my baby brother. Who wants this so badly-"

"If he wanted it badly, he'll come back S-Class," Laxus told her as, with a shake of his head, he went back to stabbing at his vegetables. "If he doesn't, then that means he didn't want it badly enough."

"Well, I'm not saying that to him, if he comes back not S-Class."

"Yeah, I figured."

"And I'm not saying that to Freed either."

"That's fine," Laxus told her. "I will. He knows where to go to hear the truth."

"A little kindness will get you a lot in life, Lax," she replied, but he only shrugged some.

"Won't get you S-Class," he retorted and, well, the next morning would finally put the entire conversation to rest.

Cana had never looked prouder than herself and, that night, never gotten drunker, than when she was finally, after wanting it for so long, so much, to find herself on the same Fairy Tail tier as her father.

He was there, Gildarts was, having been hanging around for a few days, prepared for this, and she seemed rather annoyed by all of his attention, shoving at the man's face any time he tried to hug her, but betraying her annoyance by the glistening in her eyes, every single time he, also drunkenly, announced to those amassed how proud he was of the guild's newest S-Class member.

His daughter.

Mirajane was caught as she always was, between dismayed at the heartbreak evident on the faces of those who weren't victorious and the one who was. As she comforted both Elfman and Natsu over their losses, she did take note, across the bar, of where Freed was very stoic and graceful in his defeat, but still being comforted in their own ways, by his two friends.

"Who wants to be S-Class anyways?" Bickslow questioned. "When you can be part of the most elite team in all the lands?"

"I would," Ever admitted under her breath though, still, she patted at Freed's shoulders sympathetically.

It was as they stood though that all three felt it. It had been looming, after all, the entire time. The presence of their most highly viewed mentor, Laxus, who came out of hiding, down in the game room. He'd been down there transferring his nerves into some rounds of pool, but Cana and Gildarts very loud commotion had finally caught his attention and he found himself not welcomed to the celebrations of the member he'd most desired.

At his approach, both Bickslow and Ever took a step back. They too had disappointed the man in the past, but never quite in such a grand fashion. Freed was primed to take the gold this time around, only to lose out to the guild drunk and Evergreen couldn't help but to glare over at the other woman, hating her more, even, than Titania, just for that day only.

Laxus came to a stop before the trio, eyes on Freed, and the rune mage forced himself to meet the gaze of the other man. It was just as he was beginning to open his mouth though that he caught sight of Mira, over at the bar, staring very pointedly his way and he took in a breath, instead of speaking, reconsidering his words before he was unable to take the back.

His gaze didn't soften, not exactly, but Freed was almost surprised when, instead of being reprimanded, he was welcomed with a pat at the shoulder from the man, as well as a slight grin.

"You kicked Elfman's ass, at least, right?" the slayer asked to which the other mage bowed his head a bit.

"Well, we did find ourselves across from one another and I found myself moving on while he did not, but-"

"All that matters."

"L-Laxus-"

"You'll want it more, next time," he told the other man simply. "After getting so close."

"Yes." And he balled up his fists then, Freed did, nodding his head at the man as he insisted, "I will!"

It was a celebration that night, not a pity party, as Cana was far from someone that anyone could look down upon (especially not with her father there, intent on making certain this didn't happen) and it was a good night.

For everyone.

The night peaked though, for Laxus, when towards the end of it, as he sat up at the bar drinking with the still far too giddy Gildarts, listening to the man go on about all of where he'd been (with some praise for his little girl sprinkled in there), Mirajane appeared at his side. The slayer originally thought it was to refill his mug, which he held up to help her with this, but instead of leaning down to fulfill this request, the woman instead pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering long enough for Gildarts to giggle at the man.

"Mira," Laxus questioned with a bit of a rosiness to his cheeks as the woman rightened and did, finally, begin to fill his mug with golden ale once more. Such public displays were hardly their style and the man raised his head then to question, "What was that for?"

"I just like it when you're nice, dragon." She even giggled. "I like it a lot."

But the night was busy and she was being called off again, across the bar, which left the still somewhat blushing Laxus and grinning Gildarts.

"You caught a good one, Laxus. Proud of ya."

"Shuddup."

"No, seriously." And Gildarts glanced over his shoulder then, to the table where his daughter was plying herself with barrel after barrel while her guild members, all so thrilled by her accomplishment, sat nearby, happily congratulating her. "I fucked up. You know. Once. With the only one that mattered. Sometimes you don't get second-chances, man." His serious tone faded though as his face contorted in a smile that didn't seem to stretch right across it as he said, "Unless you're like my Cana! No need for second-chances; she's all S-Class!"

"Yeah," Laxus snorted, "she just needed fourth and fifth and sixth-chances."

"What did you say? Eh? Laxus?"

And when Gildarts turned his head then, his face had contorted into something far darker and Laxus found it best to just sip his beer in silence for awhile.

They left together that night, Laxus and Mira did, the man a bit drunk and the woman, who'd worked the entire night away, stone cold sober, but it was fine, as she seemed high on something else.

"I'm so happy," she insisted to the man. "For Cana. It almost washes away how badly If eel for Elf."

Almost.

She was twirling and skipping that night, slightly before her boyfriend, and he only watched her for a few moments then before speaking.

"Maybe," he offered with a bit of a shrug, "he could come out with me. Elfman could. And we could train some times. To get him ready for next year."

And she stopped dancing then, Mira did, to look over her boyfriend as she instead flel into step with him. Slipping her arm into the crook of his, she snuggled up close to the man who, even drunk, only rolled his eyes.

"You're so sweet, Lax," she assured him as the man only groaned. "When you wanna be."

Even though his reaction seemed the exact opposite, slowly, Laxus was learning that, maybe, he always wanted to be.

[pidayforpi]

Rigmor of Cyrodiil is a wasted golden opportunity

(I should probably only post this on reddit, where people will understand. But...I feel like posting this here as well. Probably no one will understand.)

TL;DR, I give this mod a 60/100.

This is a review of the Skyrim mod Rigmor of Cyrodiil. This is the first time I have written a review for a mod. I thought of whether I should do it (let alone post it online), but since Rigmor of Cyrodiil (let’s call it RoC, not Republic of China) has a special place in my heart, I will do it just for this mod.

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First off, disclaimer. I...

...haven’t played the prequel Rigmor of Bruma. I will probably play it, but not soon because I need a rest.

...also haven’t played the sequel “Dragonchild”.

...don’t really care about the “lore” aspect. Skyrim is the only Elder Scrolls game I have played, so I can’t say I am familiar with the ES lore myself.

...also don’t really care about time-sensitivity. I am talking about modern slangs used in the mod. It just doesn’t bother me.

...don’t care about character stereotypes. It’s not easy to think of unique character settings all of the time. Cliché and a bit boring they may be, character tropes are hard to be avoided.

...don’t care about my character being forced to be the character the mod intents for me to be. I play a male/khajiit/friend-type character in my playthrough. I also haven’t touched the Skyrim main quest, so I am technically not a Dragonborn. I know many people get bothered by the limited choices/forced role-play aspect of the mod. But in my opinion, my character is just a character I lend to the mod. The mod is the story. The mod author is the storyteller. I don’t and don’t need to have any say about my character. I am just here to listen to the story.

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Overview (spoilers, of course)

RoC, as I see it, is a romance/politics/adventure genre of story. A quick description of the story:

The first part of the story revolves around Rigmor being forced to sign a legal document due to her noble status of her hometown Bruma. Being a free spirit, Rigmor just wants to sign the document, leave, and continue her carefree adventure with her boyfriend Bobby.

However, when she is in the capital, she is framed to be a traitor, as she is supposed to be the legal queen of the empire due to her family history. Thus, the current “bandit king” (who took the throne by force) and the queen Morag want to get rid of Rigmor to protect their own power.

You (the MC) has to rescue Rigmor from exile, and during the journey on Roscrea (?), you both learn that Morag is behind all of this conspiracy, including bribing Akaviri vampires and Tsaesci samurai with human flesh, and the reason behind her immortality is that she (1) is a vampire -> (2) is Molag Bal (I think?) -> (3) is relying on a soul gem powered by the souls of children.

Back home in Bruma (with the help of a pirate old friend and his crew), Bobby (who betrays Rigmor) and his men are attacking Bruma along with the central imperial government. You fight back, and capture Bobby.

After briefly settling the attacks on Bruma, you start your attack on Morag. To destroy her, you travel through the mountains to a ruins, along with a girl with the power to destroy the soul gem with her arrow. You raid the ruins, destroy Morag (Molag Bal), and go back to the base camp.

You suddenly fall into a near-death situation due to Morag’s curse, but is later saved by the goddess Alessia. When you wake up, war has already begun between Bruma and the imperial government. You, Rigmor and the protectors of Bruma launch a counterattack, successfully driving the imperial soldiers away and winning the war.

At the ending, you and Rigmor march into the imperial palace once again (the place where Rigmor sign the document), and kill the illegal bandit king (who fakes an armistice to assassinate you and Rigmor). You and Rigmor thus become the king and queen of Cyrodiil, when Rigmor announces she is pregnant with the next Dragonborn. The story ends.

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Obviously this is a very brief run-through of the plot of RoC. I omit many small encounters both intentionally and unintentionally, because that would be a lot (examples include...

-Rigmor falling sick on Roscrea

-The battle between locals of Roscrea and Akaviri

-The battle between the pirate crew and Akaviri

-The chancellor asking for peace between Bruma and the capital

-A mysterious old priest

-A wood elf general offering help to Rigmor, who hates elves due to her father being murdered by elves (I think it has something to do with Rigmor of Bruma the prequel?)

There are probably a lot more of these things in RoC, but I just can’t remember, nor will I list them all out.)

At first, RoC gives me a very good first impression.

Actually, in general, RoC is pretty enjoyable in its first quarter (not first half, mind you). That is, the first 2-3 hours of gameplay. I will say what I like about RoC in the next section, where I list what I like and don’t like in RoC.

I first started the mod last year in April. However, I stopped at the ship ride sequence back to Bruma due to study. I wanted to marathon the mod, but it was taking up too much time.

After finishing my public exam, I started the mod again (from the beginning) this year in July. I think it took me...2 weeks to complete it (to be fair, I have other things to do).

Even after finishing it, RoC still is a gem in my eye. Unlike any other Skyrim (story) mod I have played, RoC caught my eye. I have never been hyped by a mod. It’s just a shame how it progressed towards the end. It started with a pretty good image, but kept going downhill as I played it.

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Things I like about RoC

1.Thing I like the most about RoC: Beautiful.

And I mean that on multiple layers (so that probably concludes most of the things I like about RoC).

Assets: The world of Cyrodiil is beautiful. I use no ENB, only a weathers mod (that has some reshade I think), and it’s still beautiful. I took a lot of screenshots throughout my gameplay, because the scenery is just so wonderful. Be it the wilderness on the Table Mountain, or the bustling Imperial City...It’s crazy. The only mod (I have played) that beats RoC in terms of aesthetics is Malsea.

(Yes I know (some of) the assets are borrowed from Beyond Skyrim. But that doesn’t stop them from being beautiful.)

Screenplay: The scenes of RoC are beautiful. This is actually what caught my attention when I first played RoC. The signature scenes are overlooking Cyrodiil with Rigmor on top of a tree, and Rigmor devastated with her fate in front of her childhood “secret base”. These two scenes are crazy powerful. I have never seen such powerful, sentimental scenes in a video game, let alone a Skyrim mod. Even without playing RoB, I could feel the emotions: Only because she’s born to a noble family, Rigmor has to endure all of those matters. Later, it’s even found out that not only is she chosen by mortals, but she is also chosen by the gods. Sometimes, perhaps, Rigmor may even prefer the wandering, dangerous life in Skyrim to the boring, controlled life in Bruma.

Also beautiful are some of the dialogues written. Example is when the Chancellor Blackwell describes Rigmor being tortured when she’s arrested. When her hair is cut, when her clothes are torn...I could picture the whole scene and feel the sadness of Rigmor.

Characters: Rigmor is beautiful. No, I don’t mean her physical appearance. Rigmor actually reminds me of Princess Garnet from FF9 (you can call me a Zidane): A princess yearning for freedom but caught in a destined tragedy. On the other hand, her personality makes me think of Tifa Lockhart from FF7: A seemingly strong, yet emotional young woman. That’s why I think RoC is a tragedy and its ending is a sad one. Rigmor just wants freedom, but throughout the story she’s pushed around by others (arrested, forced to save the country, bare a child, only due to her family history and fate). In the end, she’s trapped in an even harsher cage: As the queen of Cyrodiil, how can she possibly run away? The story of RoC destroys the life of Rigmor, forcing her to accept the fate bestowed upon her. Her life is a tragedy, a beautiful tragedy.

Also brilliant is the voice-acting. Most of the main characters are professionally voiced. Rigmor, Bobby and Morag Sethius (?) are my favourite. I don’t find many mods that are voiced, let alone professionally voiced.

Story: The story (to a certain extent) is beautiful. RoC is a story-oriented mod and we all know it. The story is extremely detailed. Almost all side characters have character development to a certain extent. There are many dialogue scenes for character developments, such as Rigmor and you talking about the past, as a comparison to the sad present life you are experiencing now. Side characters have backstories, such as the orc warrior and her partner from the Burma Fighters’ Guild. Old, recurring characters have (I assume from RoB?) stories that detailed why they are in the position they are in now (such as a character becoming a Jarl in Skyrim). That fills up many plot holes, to the point of developing the holes to hills.

(Mind you, detail is also a problem in itself. I will discuss it later.)

The story is rather unique and not very lore-heavy (in its first quarter, at least). A pet peeve of mine when finding Skyrim story mods is the massive amount of lore in these mods. Stories that revolve around Dwermer, Daedra (etc.) immediately put a slightly bad taste in my mouth. In my opinion, lores are unnecessary, complicated and boring. I don’t care about a non-lore-friendly story. I just want a story that connects to me in a personal level, talking about issues that we, as real-life modern human beings, can relate to.

That’s why RoC’s story gave me a breath of fresh air when I first played it. Rigmor’s story is extremely relatable at first: Being forced to do something you have been running away from. You strongly want to continue running away, but you know the problem will come back to bite you, or others will suffer the consequences for you. Should you run? Or face it? I think many of us have, unfortunately, experienced this dilemma in real life.

Relatability is a very important aspect in storytelling. You have to let the readers relate to the main character on a personal level, so that readers can feel the emotions themselves. We don’t face celestial invasions or supernatural disasters in our everyday lives, so Skyrim lore-friendly story mods are more often than not non-relatable.

That’s what makes Rigmor’s story stand out (initially, I will talk about how the story goes on later).

2.Effort.

No matter you like the mod or not, you have to admit a lot of effort is put into the mod. A lot. RoC is very long, almost like an official DLC, or even a brand new video game. We have a huge map. We have many locations. We have many cutscenes. We have voiced characters. We have composed music. The programming alone is crazy effort. We have to give applause to the team making RoC (and RoB). They really put a lot of time and sweat into making a free Skyrim story mod.

Also give a big hand to the voice actress of Rigmor. She has voiced thousands of lines for one character. And the writers, as well. Millions of lines written in books, notes, dialogues.

All these efforts are not lost on me.

I can never make a Skyrim mod myself, so I admire all modders in the community. For team Rigmor, you surely deserve a seat as one of the most important modders of Skyrim.

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Things I don’t like about RoC

1.Thing I don’t like the most about RoC: Long. Too long.

The problem is not the mod duration. The problem stems from the awkward pacing and tension.

I would like to make a comparison between two video games to demonstrate this problem: Okami and Persona 5. For people who have played these two games, you may understand my opinion better. I assume most have not, so I will not spoil...much.

(ok there will be spoilers i will keep it as small as possible)

(you can skip this section if you just want to see the mod look for the “Back to RoC...” subtitle)

(also for people who have played and loved okami please don’t kill me i know a lot of people love that game)

(also i’m aware that is a kid’s game, but i’m judging it in terms of story pacing)

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Both games are of similar length, mind you. I used a year to complete Persona 5 (with school and study, of course), but I lose count of how long I used to finish Okami (I finished it this May).

This is because Okami was...sadly, getting boring. And this is due to its unbalanced pacing.

Games, or long stories in general, should have an ascending pacing and atmosphere up until the climax. The actions should get faster and faster. The missions should get more and more important. Little exception.

For Okami, I feel like the story was loosely planned. As if the story was being forced to extend when the developers realised the story was not long enough.

From the start, it is stated that Orochi is the main menace of the world. Then you would assume Orochi to be the final boss, or at least the second final boss, right?

The part up to Orochi is great. You save a local village, another village, and proceed to the capital of Japan. Neat.

Then the showdown comes down between you and Orochi. The battle is epic. Very dramatic (though a bit stupid for comic relief). I thought the game finale was at hand, given the fast pacing and the tense atmosphere.

But no, there are still at least 3 bosses until the final boss.

Then what is the tension all about?

The next boss (Kyuubi/Ninetails) also has a pretty good buildup. It leads to the deaths of two rather major characters, and you have to destroy it in its lair. Awesome.

But it’s still not the second final boss.

I stopped after the attack on Kyuubi, because it’s getting too long and boring. I felt like the story was never ending, and my patience was running dry. You kept giving me high tension, only for it to be a fraud. Similar to how the goal of the marathon keeps shifting backwards.

When you give me something that wows me, I will beg for more wows, stronger wows, until the finale.

It’s like competition. You try a 10km marathon, you then want to try another, and the next one will be a 15km.

You try a 15km marathon, you then want to try another, and the next one will be a 25km.

You win your friends in a chess game, you want to win the community.

You win the community, you want to win the country.

You win the country, you want to win the world.

Stories and games are like this too. If you give me cheap fast-food steak after I have tried a prime angus beef steak, I feel nothing. If you continue to do so, I will feel bored. Until you give me something better (or, at least equal).

That’s also why I think the ending of Okami is rather...simple. The tension before is too high, that the ending feels like it was rushed. There isn’t any buildup between the second final boss and the final boss. I beat both bosses in one day. You just...go.

I believe Persona 5 is no shorter in length than Okami. Then what made me so intrigued in Persona 5 that I followed it nonstop for a year? Pacing and atmosphere done right.

The first boss (basically a tutorial one) is a school teacher. Okay.

The second boss is a nation-famous artist. Great.

The third boss is a crime lord/gangster boss. Awesome.

The fourth boss is your future teammate. Cool.

The fifth boss is a world-famous entrepreneur. Magnificent.

Just from the status, do you see an ascending importance from each boss to each boss? From a nobody to someone everyone knows. You are evolving from a local hero to a world hero.

Although the fourth (and sixth) boss is a nobody again, they are linked to you personally. If you don’t do something, you will be in trouble. You face direct danger.

The seventh boss is the second final boss. They are the person the game hypes to be close to the final boss (similar to Orochi in Okami), and right after beating them, the final boss is at hand.

Not to mention the increasing linkage and pacing between the bosses.

Linkage-wise, in Okami, every boss is a separate monster. No linkage otherwise.

In Persona 5, the first boss has nothing to do with the main plot other than facilitating your awakening and forming your cool team (not really a spoiler the trailer shows it).

The second boss and third boss also have little to no importance to the main plot other than making you a greater hero (this is, however, a part of the main plot).

The fourth boss’ mother investigated the power you are using to beat bosses, and died because of her investigation.

The fifth and sixth boss are parts of the conspiracy of the seventh boss. And the seventh boss is your destined arch-enemy as shown by the game.

The final boss is the reason behind every boss you have beaten.

The linkage grows stronger and stronger from each boss to each boss, making you want to continue playing to find out the mastermind behind.

The pacing does a good thing to keep you focused as well. From first to fifth bosses, there are celebrations and fillers between the bosses. But from the sixth to final, no chit-chat whatsoever. One boss, onto the next. The breaks from first to fifth bosses are also really just breaks. Short and simple. One event per intermission. These breaks also give clues to future events, such as you seeing your future waifu teammate while watching fireworks after the third boss.

———————————————————————————————

Back to RoC...

Now you know the importance of pacing and tension, let’s discuss about RoC as a case study.

I believe (from many reviews online) that the unbalanced pacing is the reason why many players do not enjoy RoC. The weird pacing hurts the enjoyment of RoC a lot (I will say a -25 point goes to that).

There are many occasions where the tension is broken and the pacing halts to a crawl, mostly using dialogues. For example, the excessive use of military strategic conferences. These conferences are boring, whenever they are placed. When you put these conferences in between battles, it feels weird and extra boring. I know it is realistic for conferences to be held to discuss what to do next, but these conferences are just too long.

Times I think RoC has had weird pacing and tension (in terms of chronological order, of course including but not limited to):

-The escape on Roscrea. There are many times you both take a breather and chat. I get that it is used for the character development of Rigmor, but that’s just too much.

-Rigmor falling sick. This whole section feels unnecessary. I get they want to include Alessia (the witch-doctor of Rigmor) as part of a foreshadowing, but with you needing to gather ingredients for the Alessia and listening to her (fake?) backstory, it takes up a lot of time.

-Sabotaging the supply of Akaviri vampires and saving human slaves (on the way home to Bruma on the pirate ship). I get that they want to include that in a realistic, strategic sense, as well as show the kindness of Rigmor to save the innocent, but again, it’s not really that important, yet takes you a lot of time.

-Military conference back at Bruma, and the meeting with Chancellor Blackwell. Bruma is under attack. The tension is high. I recommend just get to the fighting part. More dialogues hurt the pacing in such a dire situation.

-Rigmor (and Blackwell) meeting with an imprisoned Bobby. I get that is for Rigmor to officially cut ties with Bobby, but in times of war, doing that slows down the pacing.

-During the expedition (to destroy Morag Sethius), too many breaks.

-After destroying Morag Sethius, any sequential military meetings (or human problems, except wars) seem boring. You just slain a Daedra. There’s nothing more exciting than that.

-Character developments for the Fighters’ Guild side characters right before the finale...? (I don’t want to be mean but I hate that)

These unnecessary (or unnecessarily long) interactions before or in a high tension situation harm the story very much. I don’t feel anything for these interactions. If you give me more of these, I will only feel bored. Until you give me something that wows me.

I think one of the general problems with the pacing of RoC is that a very high tension event is placed in the first half of the story. I am talking about the rescue of Rigmor. Rigmor is in a life-and-death situation, either she will be killed by men or demons. Saving Rigmor, bringing her home is (at least, to me) very important and put me on the edge of the seat. Therefore, after that, I assume the story will pick up its pace, and the ending is coming soon. But that is not the case.  There are still 10+ hours of playthrough, not to mention the story slowing down multiple times with the aforementioned “breaks”.

I will feel bored, until you give me immense danger again like you did with the rescue of Rigmor. Putting the Rigmor rescue arc in the near beginning forces you to pick up the pace and end the story quickly.

Another problem with the awkward pacing is a logical one. A significant example is the expedition arc. I don’t want to be mean, but aren’t you saving the world? Why are you always taking a rest? Even have time for Rigmor to take a bath? Another example is right before the finale. You have the empire at your mercy. Why do you still have time to ask a side character about her backstory? Don’t you want to get the war done? Aren’t you afraid the empire will launch a counterattack?

2.The Ending.

The problem is not that the ending is a sad one. The problem is of atmosphere and logic.

Although, having a sad ending will undoubtedly decrease enjoyability. After all, who doesn’t like a feel-good ending? With the already low enjoyability of RoC, having a sad ending surely add salt to the wound.

Atmosphere-wise, unless you really investigate the story, the ending doesn’t seem like a sad one. You don’t see Rigmor devastated with being forced to be the queen. The ending is progressed quickly without much buildup. The credit scene uses a...very epic remix of the Dragonborn theme. It looks...awkward. Similar to if Thanos snapped half of your favourite superheroes to oblivion, they and the other half are emotionless. No tears. No anger. No awesome, encouraging last words.

Logic-wise, I think neither you nor Rigmor would accept the ending. Both you (through dialogue choices) and Rigmor have always showed immense disgust with fate forcing them to do what they don’t want to. There are many occasions where both of you are like “screw the rules and prophecies”, even right before the finale. Then why would you two suddenly become so submissive and accept fate? You become the empire, while Rigmor becomes the queen and bears the Dragonchild.

You can say you both “mature” (even though I personally don’t think accepting whatever life puts onto you is being “mature”), but this is not shown. Rigmor and you, up to the ending, still refuse to accept fate. But the moment you enter the palace, you both suddenly mature and accept the thrones. This transition feels extremely sudden and weird.

3.Technical Problems

I seldom find technical problems the bane of my enjoyment. But when the problems are game-breaking, that is a problem (a famous example being Sonic ‘06).

Bugs: There are quite a number of bugs in RoC, either guaranteed or easily encountered. A significant example of guaranteed bugs is the Mara shrine scene. Again, I don’t want to be rude, but this is the first time a (serious mod, not joke) mod requires me to use console command to solve a bug. Immersion-breaking is not the problem. The problem is that if I did not know how to solve it, I couldn’t continue. I didn’t even know the command “TIM” (Toggle Immortal Mode) before I looked up on how to solve the Mara shrine bug (“TGM” doesn’t work for that situation).

Easily-encountered bugs are a lot in RoC. These bugs can break your quest, making you unable to continue your story. Examples include:

-Running from the trolls and giants on Roscrea. I think the game wants you to guide them through thin ice, so that the monsters will fall. But it just didn’t work for me. In the end I had to manually kill all the monsters (because Rigmor kept fighting/being attacked by the monsters).

-The meeting with Mr Bear. Because the meeting is placed right after a battle scene, Mr Bear will often be still in its “battle mode”, making you unable to interact with it. Worse if you (accidentally) past through the cave before the cutscene between Rigmor and Mr Bear (due to the lack of directions). I encountered this bug where Rigmor was on the other side of the mountain, yet the cutscene with Mr Bear still hadn’t finished. I had to use two third-party mods to solve this bug (by literally carrying Rigmor over the mountain).

-The battles on the sea. Did the mod team test-run the mod, or invite beta testers to test-run the mod before releasing? Given the narrow battle area and large amount of enemies, people going overboard (falling off the ship into the sea) is extremely easy. Worse when Rigmor or any quest characters have fallen overboard. I had to, again, use console command (“kill”) and a third-party mod (unlimited jumping) to kill every enemy that went overboard and get back onto the ship.

-Rigmor dying. I’m serious, this is possible. There should be an option where you can toggle her essentiality (?), but the option had to be unlocked through console command (at least for me). “Resurrect” console command will break Rigmor. A quest-given shout that should be used to resurrect Rigmor doesn’t work. Why don’t we just make Rigmor essential in the first place?

-Technically not a bug, but the game is sometimes too clueless for you. I’m okay with handholding, but not with no handholding at all. Lack of quest markers, vague directions, no signs that a cutscene is continuing...All these sometimes make me clueless as to what I should do. And it hurts the gameplay enjoyment. The large amount of flags (conditions you need to fulfil before the quest can continue) also lead to a lot of bugs, as you can easily miss those flags (such as talking to a certain person).

My recommendation for anyone who wants to try the mod is to save frequently. Not quicksave. Save. Especially before any battle scenes.

Difficulty: The mod is just too difficult. I play on Adept (default difficulty) because I want to experience the difficulty mod authors intend for you to have, but even that is too difficult for me.

Whenever there is a battle, it is almost always a large-scale one. Having a ton of enemies rushing at you makes surviving extremely difficult, let alone eliminating all enemies. I had to use a third-party (rather) OP spell to eliminate the enemies, or I would have to use whosyourdaddy God Mode. Unless you have a powerful character, or you play at a lower difficulty, legit combat is near impossible. Again, did the team test-run the mod at least once? Or is the mod supposed to be played at a lower difficult/with a very strong character?

———————————————————————————————

That’s all I have to say about Rigmor of Cyrodiil. It will always have a special place in my Skyrim gaming experience. The concept is great and unique, but the problems in execution just hurt the overall enjoyment of the mod. I will not advise against playing the mod. If you have time, please experience it for yourself, if story-oriented mod is your cup of tea.

This is the first non-fiction passage/review I have written (well, outside of school and exams). Thank you for reading!

(16-7-2020 ~ 17-7-2020)

[elfrootaddict]

SHE IS THE KEY - Chapter 2/5

DESCRIPTION: Solas is desperate to meet the person who survived the explosion at the Conclave. Things certainly didn’t go as planned.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 2

Solas takes his staff from the ground and stands to sit on the steps behind him. With the prisoner still lying unconscious on the floor, he gazes over her lifeless demeanour as she taunts him with questions. Almost mocking him.

Who are you? How could have possibly survived? Where is my orb?

Solas swings his backpack off his shoulders and brings it between his feet. Hunching over he takes out several parchments of paper, a magically sealed ink pot, a quill, and then neatly places his backpack next to him. Like any good scholar, Solas decides to ink down his thoughts. 

Frustrated with the poorly lit room, he raises his left hand and with a single gesture increases the size of the fire on the torches. The fires now burn double their normal size and therefore, doubling the light coming from them. Pleased, Solas puts his ink pot down on the step next to him, dips his quill and begins to write in Ancient Elvish.

8440 FA:

No sign of the orb. The orb has been successfully unlocked. Corypheus has perished, as expected. I haven’t seen any of my agents. They are safe then. The Temple of Sacred Ashes completely destroyed. Everyone within is dead. Except, for the prisoner. 

There is a monumentally large hole in the Veil. Not my doing. A rift lies directly underneath it. It is the sauce of the Breach. I have met with Lady Cassandra, Right Hand of the Divine. Used to be a Seeker. She has agreed to give me access to the prisoner and accepts my help to seal the Breach. 

The prisoner is Dalish. She has blood writing of Mythal. Not one of mine. Female. Young. Perhaps 25-30 years of age? She is wearing shem clothes. A spy for her clan? Her face is horribly wounded. In order for her to communicate, I will need to heal her. 

Then without warning, the ominous magic violently sparks back to life, filling the room with its bright, green glow. Solas stops writing to observe and after a moment, it abruptly stops. Solas then dips his quill back into the ink pot and proceeds in finishing up his writing. 

The prisoner has the Anchor. But not the orb. It has left an entrance wound. Will need to heal that, too. 

Putting his quill and papers down, Solas gets up and walks towards the prisoner. He kneels down in front of her with his feet tucked underneath him as he attempts to study the Anchor. He couldn’t care less about the deformities on this elf’s face for the moment. 

However, Solas quickly realises that should the prisoner wake up, the laceration running across her mouth would prevent her from speaking, and Cassandra wouldn’t be happy about that. Reluctantly shifting his priorities, Solas groans as he takes hold of her shoulders and guides the prisoner onto her back. Her figure now elegantly twisting as her hips still lie on their side while her face and chest look up towards the ceiling. 

Holding his hands just above her face, Solas’s hands light up with white-blue cleansing magic. Before he can heal her trauma, he first needs to remove all the blood from her skin so he can see exactly how best to heal her wounds. 

As his hands slowly glide and hover above her face, the blood begins to slowly lift off in tiny particles, and just before reaching his hands do they disintegrate entirely. With her face all cleaned up, Solas can now get a better look at this impostor. He brings his hands down onto his lap and stares at the prisoner with unwavering curiosity. Looking for answers that are perhaps hidden beneath her motionless face. 

Unexpectedly however, only one truth reveals itself to him. 

She is… beautiful.

Shaken and disturbed by his carnal, distractive thoughts he blinks hard to regain his focus. 

Impossibly angry with himself for noticing her beauty, he folds his brows into a deep frown and once again raises his hands towards her face. With full concentration, Solas magically sows her skin back together. Should she have been one of his agents, he would have taken a little more care in healing her. However, he just needs her to be able to communicate, and he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time. Solas drops his hands and observes his hastened work. The two healed wounds have left large scars on the prisoner’s skin. Echoing what was once there.

Good enough. She should be able to speak now. 

Solas then moves his attention to her hands as he takes hold of her left wrist and raises her shackled hands up towards him. With the same impatient attitude, he places his a hand over her mark and begins to heal the deep laceration, too. 

As he begins to heal her hand, the Anchor flares up again. Startled by the violent outburst, Solas falls and stumbles backwards. Having been so close to the magic that came from the Anchor, Solas begins to experience small shocks of electricity all along his arm. 

The Anchor is unstable. This elf doesn’t have the ability to contain its power! 

Now furious, Solas scowls at the seemingly undisturbed prisoner before him. This Dalish elf has stolen his Anchor and clearly lacks the ability to contain it. Sitting back up, he violently grabs her shackles, peels back her fingers and looks even closer at his stolen treasure. 

Allowing his emotions to get the better of him, he looks at the prisoner with raw fury burning in his eyes as he barks in Elvish, “How did you come by the orb?! Where is it now? Why were you there? Why did you interfere?” 

Silence.

Solas tosses the prisoner’s hands away with frustration and resentment. Now sitting on his rear with his legs bent and feet planted on the floor, he buries his face in his hands. After a moment, he takes in a long, deep breath and eventually releases it, warming his icy hands. He then rests his elbows on his knees, with arms dangling casually, and looks up at the ceiling above him. Agitated, bitter and terrified, Solas almost starts to weep.

What am I to do now? At least Corypheus is dead. At least that has gone to plan. 

Solas decides he needs to calm his mind and emotions. He cannot think clearly while being so worked up. His anger and self pity isn’t going to help him. He then sits straight up with his legs crossed and brings his hands towards mouth as if he is about to pray. He then chuckles quietly to himself at such a silly notion. 

As he proceeds to close his eyes, he can feel his mind begin to concentrate as tries to figure this out logically out-loud in Elvish, “Corypheus had the orb. But, the prisoner has the Anchor. To receive the Anchor one must hold onto the orb. Therefore, the prisoner held the orb as it unlocked. But how did she survive? 

“To survive the explosion, she would have to have to have been somewhere else entirely. However, with the Anchor in her hand she couldn’t have been anywhere else but the Conclave. With Corypheus. 

“Cassandra mentioned that they found the prisoner under the rift. The rift is a gateway into the Fade. Therefore, there is only one explanation. The prisoner had somehow managed to obtain the orb. The orb then bestowed the Anchor onto her. And using the power of the Anchor, she then opened a rift, intentional or not, and entered the Fade… physically.” 

Solas opens his eyes wide from shock in his revelation. He cannot believe the undeniable truth to this theory. 

No, not theory. Fact. 

Realising that the only conclusion that this mere Dalish elf walked through the Fade physically, and survived is… miraculous. Solas is almost impressed. Perhaps there is more to her than he anticipated. Nevertheless, Solas can’t help but also feel a bit envious. He has only been able to enter the Fade in dream state and has wanted nothing more than to be able to walk through the Fade in his physical form.

With time running out, Solas decides to run some magical tests to hopefully unveil more certain, relevant truths. Even though it has only been a year since waking from utherena, Solas’s magical talents are still far superior to any other mage around. Just as one would expect from an Ancient Elf.

Solas stretches his arms out in front of him, closes his eyes, and clears his mind to focus only on the prisoner. He can feel primordial magic lying beneath her skin. Pumping through in her blood with every steady heart beat and coursing through her veins as well. 

She’s a mage. 

He can also feel the magic from the Anchor and it is spreading. He can sense it slowly clawing its way through her body, like a sickness. At this rate, it will completely take over her body within a matter of days. And considering that the Anchor is already so unstable, she will most likely die as a result. 

Solas is tempted by the idea. The orb can only connect to one Anchor at a time, and if she were to die, the orb would then be free to bestow another. And this time, it would be with Solas.

However, in the back of his mind two issues gnaw at him. 

The first being, Lady Cassandra. She would not take kindly to the fact that Solas allowed the prisoner to die. She would most likely have him imprisoned or killed for not producing the results he so confidently promised her. 

And the second far more important issue, is the Breach. With the Veil so unstable, there is currently hundreds of Spirits pouring through rifts across the valley. Most of them being innocent Spirits being twisted against their very nature as they are forced into the living world. 

And without having any idea of where the orb is, who knows how long it would take before he would find it before he could restore order, and save the Spirits from torment. 

With resentment, Solas realises he actually needs the prisoner. She needs to stay alive. If she is able to open rifts, then she should be able to close them. And in turn, seal the Breach. 

She is the key.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

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Halla & Wolf Series

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Depths Below: Epilogue, Part 7

Simultaneously…  & Three Days after The Masquerade Massacre… 

“…Well we cannot certainly sit here any longer wondering whether or not we have some secret we’re missing.”  Verzatea stammered out as she slowly sat down in her council chair and peered around the room.

The council chamber was filled to the brim with people in this moment.  Marseille and Kross were positioned near the head of the table, the vacant seat of the Inquisitor between them.  They were on either side of it, mostly because it was where Kross always stood; and now the pale old elf had taken his place behind the Matron.  

Siida, who kept the company of both Zoei and Marseille with her nearly at all times was right beside the chair of her brother.  The huntress on her other side.  Marseille had his hands planted firmly on the back of her chair at the arch and his eyes would peer around the room looking at the council.

Around the room from there it would be Sennaris; she was often times unavailable due to her being gone for so long in the Honeywell estate.  But ‘Sara’ was dead now, and she no longer needed to suffer that life; she could again reclaim her place here.

Following around the horseshoe shaped table would be the various faces of the Order.  Silas and Aconite who were two of Asphodels former tranquil subjects had remained behind when she abdicated her Speaker position.  She allowed them to stay, mostly because they were fond of Kross and Abbigael.  Who to mention was also present beside them; the blonde elven female eagerly concerned for her masters fate.

Brox sat not too far from them, his feet on the table as usual; puffing away on his ceramic pipe that was jammed full of hallucinogenic herb no doubt.   He would billow out puffs of smoke as he watched on.

On the opposite direction, directly next to Lazarius’ throne was Pyravari.  She would always sit at her brothers right.

“The mongrel dog is dead.  Anything we could have learned from him came when the spell he’d cast on Siida was turned on himself.  He knew nothing.  I for one am glad she ended his miserable life.  The man was a fucking nuisance.”

“Nuisance or not, Pyravari… we’re still without an answer.”  Siida added as she listened to the hate filled speech of her sister.

“He didn’t have anything more to add, and that makes him useless to us. Had you held back, he would still be breathing.  One less life form wasting valuable oxygen for the rest of you.” she snapped back instantly.

“This is not why we are here; nor is it why we are gathered.  Of course we all agree that Dawnseeker out of the way ends an inevitable threat to all of us but..”

Sennaris quickly interjected.  Her reasoning sound and her voice tranquil and calm as she continued.

“We are here to determine our next course of action… to find a way to locate my Ma…Lazarius.”

“The Compeller is correct.  The point we must remain on is what to do next.” Marseille added in.

“It may be plaus-thable, though highly unlikely that I could perhap-ths manufacture a device from the blood within the Pit.  There is a s-thixty s-theven perc-thent chanc-the that I could probably locate him without des-thtroying the Bas-thtille and all of us-th in the process… “

At that point everyone had looked across the table at Whistletorque.

“What?” he said bewildered. “Thos-the are great odds-th!”

“Whether or not it can be done is mute.  Currently we are without several key components to our arsenal.  Koltun has opted to begin taking care of the Alliance problems down within Silithus.  And both Lokiren and Baron Krazzlowe are preoccupied ensuring what little Azerite remains, stays in tact.”

Kross had begun talking as everyone else continued to circle the facts.

“Sending all of us out to scan the planet in order to locate on person is an impossible feat…”

“Not imposs-thible.”

“..and impossible feat.  I think we need to consider what we do know and that is wherever the Inquisitor is currently, we know he is alive… we know he is not in the clutches of the Magistrate…and he is no doubt trying to find a way back to us.” the Steward finished.

“And what if…what if he is somewhere worse?” Siida suggested.

“We just don’t know and can’t think about that Siida.” concluded Kross.

“What if he is with the Alliance?  or worse, the Horde? Thinking he is some Ren’dorei spy?”  she went on, her worrying growing deeper as her thoughts ran.

Marseille would lower his hands and place them on her shoulders to calm her.

“I have prepared already to send an entire fleet out to begin looking, and Koltun has agreed that whatever Illidari have remained here under my command are to go through me.  We can have two hundred soliders and infiltrators tracking Lazarius down, with boots on the ground …tonight.” Pyravari demanded slamming her Saronite gauntlet against the wood grain of the table.

“We cannot just go looking randomly across the world for him.”  Sennaris jumped back in.

“I will ascend to the surface right now and walk the tundras until my legs tear off looking for him if I need to!” the Harbinger shouted back.

“Logic Pyravari…calm your nerves.”  Kross took his chance to try and quell the rage building in the twin. “We need direction and focus.”

“Despite her rash approach, I agree and I’ve already informed the Scholary that we have an equal amount of witches and spellcasters scrying and searching from here to Pandaria by daybreak.” added Verzatea; she was in charge of them after all, though she and Pyravari did not always get along, here they did.

“Pandaria…That… would not be a bad idea in fact.”  Marseille suggested as he looked toward the Confessor.

Everyone peered in the direction of the pale old elf.  What point was he trying to make.

“Explain?” Pyravari demanded; she was always the first to set the bar high, always the first to pick out a possible point when it was made.

“Of course. . .” answered the Shal’dorei with a bowed head. “Kun-Lai…we return there, where this all began.  Between Zoei and myself, we’re excellent trackers.  We will need air support, some sort of ability to scry for him…it could be done.  Track him from the source.”

It was hard to believe but it was honestly the only real plan they had to work from.  And much to everyone’s shock, they actually liked the idea.  Eyes would turn from the Shade as they sought to gain some sort of council from one another, but nothing.  They all seemed to agree.  All save for her.

“And how certain are you that you can actually track him if you do actually get there.”  replied the lich fired Harbinger as she narrowed her field toward the man.

“There is no guarantee.  But my Master is keen.  He is also wise.  I have been thinking in depth about what it would mean to be him; trapped in a situation like this.  Meditated for hours on end; trying to determine a possible way he could have been letting us know all this time.” the old elf halted in his words as he thought on what he’d gained from it.

Siida peered back around her chair toward the Shal’dorei and questioned.

“What…what is it Marseille.” she said softly.

“He expects us to know what he is living through…what he is suffering from…and how he is dying…slowly…” the old elf concluded.

Shocked, everyone seemed to be wondering if he’d hit his head.  If it was just a slightly off beat method of thinking.

“Are you fucking mad? Is this a sick joke?” Pyravari stood from the table and pointed toward the man. “You spill out that sort of incoherent kodo fodder like we’re supposed to eat it?”

“Pyravari plea–” Siida pleaded but was cut off short.

“No, not this time sister!” the Saronite banshee hissed. “Explain yourself Shade!”

Marseille was smiling at her easily riled tendencies, but then again; he knew it was expected for saying it.  He knew how she cared for her twin; her passion here was actually quiet impressive.

“Logically think about it…”  he concluded, pointing toward the open chair.

Again there was silence as the wise elf stood there waiting for someone to understand him.

“The entity bound to him.  The way he is.  The entropy of his own system fails consistently every day leaving bits of residue behind.  There has got to be a trail for us to latch on to.  A way to detect his magical bio-signature.  Some sort of path leading us around from where he was. . .”  Marseille then motioned toward the door; as if directing two points where Lazarius could have been. “To where he ended up…somewhere between…we should be able to find a clue.”

“Westley.”  Pyravari snapped as she drew her attention suddenly over toward the little gnomish doctor.

“Harbinger!” he squawked to attention, standing in his chair and looking toward her.

“What is he saying.” she added, thumbing a clawed digit in the direction of Marseille.

“Well…” he began. “Bas-thically…becaus-the Laz-tharius-th is cons-thtantly interacting with the void on the molecular level.  That means-th there is-th a way to lock onto that s-thignature and locate what he was-th doing and where he was-th.”

The lich fire blue hues of the cold ice queen would glanced between the two men.  Her doubts were solid, but if Whistletorque could follow it, she could trust him.  She had taken a liking to this particular gnome, and no others.

“So…possible.”

“Poss-thible but very tricky.  Even if we could detect his-th bio s-thignature, I can’t even begin to promis-the that the trail or res-thidue left over would read out; it could be nano digits-th at this point.  But, I can forgo the blood devic-the and begin cons-thtructing a means-th to locate the particles of energy Laz-tharius-th is leaving behind… maybe a s-theventy perc-thent chance…maybe.”  the gnome concluded as he sat back down.

“If the doctor can formulate only a simple means to do so…It could be done.  I will personally see to that.  And from there, allow the trackers to track.  And the eyes to see.  Mouths to speak and ears to listen.  We fan out.  Find information and collect our data.”  Marseille had been right there to pick up the conversation.

“Not randomly…and not without a direction to move from.” the often quiet Confessor added as she was listening carefully.

“Correct.  We won’t have to waste valuable time needlessly looking where we should not be.” the pale elf ended.

“I will still send what forces we have available out to begin hunting around the area of that mountain and the lower altitudes while we wait.  Since it was where any of us last saw him, we start there.  Perhaps they never made it from the mainland.  Forced to land somewhere in the Valley…”  Pyravari had concluded and made a point..

“Yes, and I can make sure to divide the forces of scryers between your own and whatever Marseille needs.” added Verzatea; and for once they both agreed too.  There was no glaring, not need for bickering, just both accepted it and nodded.

“Then we are in agreement… this is is.  We start at the beginning and make our push to the end.”  came the wise old voice of the steward.  

“We organize, and have everything ready by daybreak.  Id like whoever is not going to be in the field to aid us, here; we would like to strive to get those odds a bit higher Doctor Whistletorque, and I am certain with a bit more time and ingenuity you could increase those odds to say . . maybe, ninety?” Pyravari added again, noting the doctor would perk up at her encouragement.

Kross was now standing at the front of the table beside where Lazarius’ chair was vacant.  His ghostly pale eyes peering from person to person.  His own gloved fingers tracing the magnificent serpent crescent along the arch of its top.  His thoughts were nearly always free floating, and hardly lingered; but this was their last chance.

There was a hanging silence that befell the group.  Each one of them knew secretly that the task at hand was even more far fetched and outlandish than they’d hoped it would have been.  They could pretend that it was their best option; but they all had to face the facts that were creeping up on them quickly.  Lazarius could very well just be somewhere trapped; able to survive due to his parasite, down a crack in the soil.  

It was inevitable though that one day; he would pass.  They would be alone.  And they would either crumble and fall or they would succeed.   Until that day actually came though, it would be up to these people in this room to stand tall and harden their willpower to ensure the rest of the people depending on their wisdom and prowess did not also lose faith and fall.

Each one of them rose.  Each one looking from left to right; passing along from person to person.  Each one of them understood.

“We don’t stop until this is over…” Pyravari cut through the silence with her cold tone. “We don’t stop…until we find him.”

They all nodded in agreement, and turned to exit the chamber of the Nine.   It was a somber walk, though filled with one dissolving shred of hope which still contained their optimism.  It was their only beacon.  Until the light of the hall broke their sacred meeting, and poured in on them like a rising sun.

They were stunned.  Shocked in awe as the figure of a man stepped into frame; behind him a towering slender curvy figure and a creature pair of sorts.  The collective group stood together against this set of persons; unsure who would be so bold as to interrupt their meeting.

“How dare you set foot in these hallowed chambers; give me one good reason I should not split you in half where you stand?!”  Pyravari snapped; she was at the forefront and her runeblade was drawn on an angle toward the intruder.

“It would make welcoming me home… all the more difficult I suppose…”  

A voice which shook the very walls around them and instantly caused the silence to break as the blade hit to floor along with the collective jaws of the order.

“LAZARIUS …”

The End…

[ciathyzareposts]

Game 317: Sorcerer’s Bane (1992)

Unfortunately, the game has no title screen. This is as close as we get.

            Sorcerer’s Bane

United States

Wood Software Development (developer and publisher)

Released in 1992 for DOS

Date Started: 27 January 2019

One of the things for which I am most grateful about this blog is that it introduced me to the roguelike sub-genre. The introduction was quite quick, as Rogue was the second game that I played. I had never encountered anything like it–had never encountered permadeath at all, really. The idea that you could invest dozens of hours into a character, and then he could be gone, just like that, with one wrong roll of the dice, is a hard concept to grasp when you’ve grown up playing RPGs that allow liberal saving and reloading. Even recently, when I was playing The Game of Dungeons, I had moments where my mind refused to believe that a character in which I’d heavily invested–hale and powerful only moments ago–was somehow suddenly irretrievable.

Because Rogue itself, with its permadeath and dungeon randomization, is so inherently replayable, games in the sub-genre really have to distinguish themselves with new content to be memorable. Otherwise, all you’ve made is a clone of Rogue. Thus, we find a lot more variance in roguelikes–more than I thought was possible before I experienced them–than we do in many other sub-genres. NetHack, UnReal World, Moria, and Wizard’s Lair I may look somewhat the same, but they took vastly different approaches in mechanics and content, making them all fun to play in their own way.

Along those lines, Sorcerer’s Bane is an admirable effort from Indianapolis-based developer Chuck Wood. (Wow, is that a difficult name to Google. I’m sure there’s at least one “Peter Piper” out there with the same problem.) If I’ve found the right man, he would have been 18 when the game was released as shareware. (He asked $19.95 for it, or $99.95 for a version with the source code.) While it has a youth’s sense of humor in some of the text, the game is competently-programmed and highly-original. Wood clearly played Rogue (and perhaps NetHack) and was familiar with Dungeons and Dragons conventions, but he wasn’t overly restricted by them.              

Until you register, you have to see this message every time you quit. I’d happily pay the shareware fee, but I can’t track Chuck down.

          The backstory concerns two sorcerers named Lodi and Sabee who together founded a magicians’ academy called Mogadore. Each of the wizards wielded a Staff of Power. For some reason, Lodi turned evil and killed Sabee, hoping to use his Staff of Power in conjunction with his own to achieve near-omnipotence. For some reason, Lodi was unable to use the staff, so he broke it into four pieces and hid them in various parts of Mogadore, guarded by four dragons. Lodi them sequestered himself in the lowest levels of the (now-) dungeon to plot further mischief. The player’s mission is to reunite the four pieces of the staff, figure out how it works, and destroy Lodi.

Character creation has the player roll for strength, intelligence, constitution, dexterity, charisma, and luck on an 8-18 scale. He then chooses from human, elf, troll, dwarf, and gnome races, which further modify the attributes. Classes are fighter, magic user, and bard, and each has unique talents that (unlike the typical roguelike) can’t be acquired by the other classes. In other words, no one but a magic user will ever cast spells, and no one but a bard will ever sing bard songs. I went with a gnome bard which is a little unusual for me.             

Creating a character.

          The game begins in a menu town with a single shop and a cleric. You don’t have much gold to start, but you can return to the menu level whenever you want. The shop buys and sells weapons and armor, identifies equipment, and recharges wands. The cleric heals, cures sickness, and removes cursed items.           

The store has the standard selection of equipment.

         Below the menu town, each dungeon level is 12 x 76 squares, with features randomly generated. The levels don’t have twisting corridors of most roguelikes. Instead, most of the space is open, but with occasional buildings or “rooms.” The character is represented by a yen symbol (¥). As you move, you reveal the squares around you, which might contain traps, treasure, or special encounters. Combats appear randomly as you walk, in a separate interface, and monsters are not seen in the environment.          

Exploring one of the dungeon levels, I have a special encounter with a throne.

              My initial reactions to the game were negative, primarily because it has far fewer options than most roguelikes and thus seemed “dumbed down.” In the exploration window, there are no regular commands beyond movement and inventory. There’s no food system and no complex interaction between items, and no object permanence–when you drop things, they disappear entirely.             

A fairly small set of commands for a roguelike.

          Soon, however, the game’s strengths and innovations started to come through. Among them:

           It has an excellent interface–one of the best I’ve ever seen in any game. It supports both the mouse and keyboard, and also multiple ways to use the keyboard. For instance, you can arrow among the commands and hit ENTER or type the letter of the command. It anticipates multiple ways that different users might want to accomplish things. For instance, in the inventory screen, you can choose to (W)ield, (D)rop, or (I)dentify items (among other commands), or you can select the item first and then see a sub-menu of the different things you can do with it. It offers a few shortcuts; in combat, (K)ill causes the entire combat to play out as if you hit (F)ight every round.

            I could have done all these things from the previous inventory screen, or here in a way that’s specific to the elven cloak. And I can either press the appropriate key, arrow to my selection and hit ENTER, or use the mouse.

        The “help” system is also excellent. Almost every screen has a (H)elp command that provides contextual assistance with your current situation. 

             Hitting “Help” on the class selection screen brings up a description of each class.

          You get experience just for walking. Every step grants you one point. This makes it possible to play a “stealth” version of the game, at least at low levels.

In combat, you can attempt to avoid battle by simply talking to the enemy. Results depend on charisma, but it works a lot of the time with animals and neutral creatures. There are even “good” creatures like dryads who have additional encounter options if you talk with them. 

              What kind of monster wants to kill a dog?

          After you’ve faced an enemy a few times, you can bring up a “Monster Info” screen the next time you encounter him. It tells you the monster’s statistics (with your own in comparison) and gives you a brief description.

                The game shows what I know about hobgoblins.

         I like the identification system. Items can be cursed or enchanted, and if you want to take a chance, wielding or wearing the item immediately tells you everything about it. You can pay to identify items in the shop, and you can find Rings of Identify that (usually) identify things automatically. 

          Yo, dawg . . .

          Items have fun effects (both advantageous and disadvantageous) that I’ve not seen in many other games. A “Book of Intense Wealth” gives you thousands of experience points or gold pieces. The cursed “Forward-Only Motion Boots” don’t let you use any up ladders. I’m not exactly sure what the “Attacking Floating Sword” does, but it’s apparently a good thing. Items otherwise offer the types of resistances and advantages that you’re used to in roguelikes, and of course you can keep multiple items to swap in and out of active inventory as the situation demands (e.g., putting on Ring of Disease Resistance when you meet a zombie).

There are interesting special encounters. Dryads give you hints. Gamblers offer you a chance to wager on a card game (and some of them carry Decks of Many Things). Thrones can convey a variety of benefits or demerits. Fountains usually heal (fully) but sometimes improve or reduce attributes instead. (Fountains and thrones, of course, are staples from earlier roguelikes.)

            A dryad offers some equipment advice.

        There’s a complex “wish” system. Various items and creatures can grant you wishes, which accumulate in an associated statistic. When you want to use a wish, you just hit “W” and a menu comes up offering various options, including raising an attribute, gaining a magic item, healing, extra experience, gold, and “a pet grizzly bear and a dreamwolf to fight with.” I haven’t tried that last option yet.

           Some of the wish options. I only have one, so I guess I’d better save it.

         Monsters include the standard set of roguelike/fantasy creatures. On the first few levels, you might run into jackals, goblins, kobolds, hobgoblins, floating eyes, skeletons, and giant rats. Later, you get more advanced creatures with special attacks and defenses. Were-creatures can only be hit by magic weapons and can cause lycanthropy, for instance. Amorphous acids can corrode items. Mad dogs and zombies can cause disease. Thieves can steal your money pouch and disappear. After Level 10, there are spellcasting enemies like satyrs, gorgons, and wizards. I’ve found it best to run away from a lot of these creature types, especially the animal ones that never offer any gold or items after you kill them.           

Fighting a mad dog is a bad idea. They can disease you and offer nothing once you kill them.

         In combat, you have options to attack, talk, run, cast a spell (for magic-users), sing a song (for bards), make a wish, and use an inventory item. A lack of missile weapons and a low variety of items makes combat a bit less tactical than some roguelikes, but it’s not bad and at least it’s over fast.

Health does not regenerate on its own, but in consideration for that, and for permadeath, combat is relatively easy, at least for the first 8 levels or so. A lot of battles end with no hit point loss for the character at all. Running away works most of the time. Every few levels, you find a fountain that usually heals you, and both magic users and clerics have magical healing options. You also occasionally run into wandering clerics. And if you die, the game runs through a humorous scene in which the gods might resurrect you, but at a cost of all your gold (if you don’t have much, your chances of resurrection seem to be lower) or some inventory items.

             A silly scene that accompanies death.

           I have no idea how many levels the game offers, but I played this first session to dungeon Level 10. My character rose to Level 6 during the process, which each level increasing maximum hit points and improving a few behind-the-scenes statistics (which you can call up) like “magic resistance,” “to hit,” and “alertness.” Many of my attributes improved from potions, books, and fountains. On Levels 9 and 10, the game started to get a bit harder, with tougher enemies like gorgons and wizards, and matters weren’t helped by the fact that an unlucky use of the gambler’s Deck of Many Things caused me to lose my entire inventory.            

He did warn me.

            I’ve gained two bard songs during the course of the game. “Hypocrita” is a healing song and “Bazerker” is a combat song. Neither seemed to have any effect when I had a regular flute, but once i found a magic “Flying Flute,” they both started paying off. In particular, “Hypocrita” heals 6 hit points per move, which means that combats have become about individual difficulty rather than collective difficulty.           

My inventory before the unfortunate event above.

        I expected to find shortcuts to the surface the farther down I explored, but it hasn’t happened yet. That means if I want to go back to the shop, I have to climb up 10 dungeon levels. I guess after a certain point, you have to rely on your own resources for item identification and wandering clerics for healing that you can’t accomplish yourself. Since I lost all my stuff, though, I guess I’m going to try to make it back to the surface to buy a new set of equipment, then perhaps grind a bit on lower levels until I find a few magic items again (magic items are most common in treasure chests, but monsters occasionally drop them). If I lose this character entirely, I’ll probably restart as a magic-user so I can experience that side of the game, but I’ll likely backup my character every couple of levels.

Sorcerer’s Bane will end on a high note if it doesn’t last much more than another four or five hours. Character development caps at Level 15, which suggests I’m about 40% of the way through, although it concerns me that I haven’t found any of the dragons yet. Maybe they’re all grouped together on one lower level. For now, the game hasn’t made any major mistakes, and I’m impressed that the young developer showed so much innovation and sense of balance.

Time so far: 4 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-317-sorcerers-bane-1992/

[fatdrarry]

Two Can Play

Ao3

Okay I wrote this based off of a post parkkate had made about Draco finding a ring.

“He’s wearing it. He’s wearing the ring. He’s got the blasted thing on his finger, Hermione.” Harry glanced at the door behind him nervously. Draco had already found the damned thing and he was in no mood to be caught discussing the situation with Hermione. That nosy little wanker already knows too much. “And he hasn’t said a damn word.”

“Harry, you need to relax. He might’ve found the ring but you can still propose. Do you really think he would have just put it on and pretended it wasn’t on his finger if he didn’t want this? I know you’re a bit dense but honestly Harry, I think he just wants you to ask him already.” Harry could hear a fussy Hugo in the background of Hermione’s exasperated tone and decided that she was the last person he should be calling. Ron was off in Canada working on a North American branch of Wizard Wheezes, and got held up because of the weather and Hermione thinks the Ministry will collapse without her. “Give me one seco- Rose please stop touching that, if you hurt it Mummy’s buying.” Harry put the call on speaker and scrolled down his contacts until he got to the Z’s. Draco could really drag this out if he wanted to. The obvious solution would be to just propose, ring or no ring. And admit defeat? He bit his lip. “Harry? I’ll floo you when we get home. Rose is getting handsy with some very expensive mandrakes, and I’d really rather not get Neville damaged plants. Don’t forget lunch tomorrow at the Burrow, Ron’s finally got a portkey.”

Harry mumbled a quick goodbye before quickly typing out a message.

 Meet me at the Brew in 10, and bring your kit.

                                                ***

Harry had chosen a corner booth where he could see everyone who walked or flooed in and out of the bar. It‘s the same spot he’d seen Draco at for the first time since he’d returned from France. He’d downed two whiskeys, and ordered two more, by the time he’d set his eyes on Blaise Zabini. Blaise, instead of returning to Hogwarts for his 8th year, decided to travel in pursuit of precious metals and stones and now markets and designs jewelry to both the muggle and magical public. But his best he saves for higher profile clients and Ginny. He walked to the corner booth Harry had claimed and placed his briefcase on the scratched table in front of him before having a seat.

He nodded his chin out as a greeting before placing a wordless muffliato around their table. “Harry, you’ve pulled me out of bed with someone I hadn’t seen in weeks. You’d better be dying to have me here at this hour.” He didn’t try to hide his smile when he reached over and grabbed one of the glasses sitting in front of him.

“Please, I know Ginny returned from the States three nights ago, you’re lucky I didn’t call you earlier. And as a matter of fact yes I might die, of heart failure, if I don’t get another ring.” Blaise paused before swallowing the contents of his cup entirely, raising it to ensure his refill and then placed the glass down. Harry swallowed, “I didn’t lose it, I didn’t even hide it well to keep it away from Draco.” He dropped his head on to the table and groaned. “I. Am. Such. An. Idiot.”

“Knock it off, Potty, you’re not a bloody house elf. What do you mean? He found it? I thought you were going to propose?” Harry made a muffled sound and Blaise pursed his lips. “How did he find it?”

“I don’t know, you know how Draco is. I was going to propose. I was I swear it, but every time I’d planned it out, something ridiculous would happen. It’s like I’m cursed. I took him to that muggle observatory in London and was going to do it there but it started snowing so they closed the telescope exhibit. Then we went to Madrialo’s and we’d found that Draco black’s-don’t-have-allergies Malfoy is allergic to hibiscus extract and because neither of us new any anti-allergy spells, we were forced to go to St Mungo’s and a hospital is hardly an appropriate place for a proposal. When we were at the Manor last weekend for dinner with Narcissa, Andromeda and Teddy the bloody table caught fire when I reached in my pocket, because Teddy’s magic gets unstable when he’s sick. On Monday, Draco and I stayed up watching mean girls because for whatever reason it’s Draco’s favorite christmas film and I look over at him ready to propose before Regina has a chance to be fake hit by that bus and he’s asleep. I wasn’t going to wake him to propose, he’d hex me- I’d hex me. The next morning, I’m walking out of the shower and I smell bacon. Bacon! Kreacher was off doing whatever it is he does when I tell him to take the day off, because he’s old and God forbid I’m nice to a bitter old elf, and Draco is holding his stupid coffee mug- you know the one that has a hole on the bottom that only he has the locking piece to so no one drinks from it but him- with his left hand, ring shining and with the other he’s making bacon. The muggle way! And get this- then he kisses me good morning and offers me a slice of bacon, but says absolutely nothing about the ring hugging his finger. And he has continued to act like its not there for the past 5 days. So fuck it. If he wants to play this game I can too. I’m buying another ring and so help me God I will take the other ring and destroy it. I am going to go home. I am going to put the fucking ring behind the toaster and I don’t care if Voldemort is back to start a third war, I am going to propose tomorrow at the Burrow after lunch and Draco’s midday wine,” Harry huffs, his face is flushed and his eyes are puffy and he is angry. God he’s just so angry.

Blaise lets out a low whistle. Harry really has gone mad, the poor lad. It was inspiring.  “Alright, I’ll help you. The fastest way to get this done is to take a ring with a similar band as the one you wanted, because believe it or not, the band is really the hardest part to make with magical rings. Especially on such short notice.” He tapped the briefcase with his wand and it popped open. “You can have a look at these here, they’re silver, the ones next to it are white gold and they are for next year’s winter collection. I’ve been working with them exclusively. I know that with the last ring you had Narcissa help you choose it. I think you can do better.” Blaise let his fingers skim the rings before landing on a white gold band. It was nice, not too thin and had an almost invisible pattern engraved into it. “I made this when you called me and told me what you wanted out of a ring. Don’t get me wrong the other piece was beautiful but it’s something Narcissa chose. Not you.” Blaise held it up and Harry ran his finger over it and smiled. “Now, I can install stones, depending on how big or small and what kind they are it could take me twenty to forty minutes per stone.”

                                        ***

Harry flooed home at approximately dawn. The sky had begun to change colors shortly before he’d left the Brew. He came home to a sleeping Draco hogging the blankets and his side of the bed and his heart ached. He took his clothes off sloppily, stripping down to his pants before getting into bed with the blonde boy, who as if sensing Harry’s presence rolled over to lay on him, tangling their legs together before rubbing his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck. When he woke up at 10 to an empty bed and a missing boyfriend he grabbed his phone to send Draco a text. His lips pulling into a smile when he saw that he’d had left a sticky note on his screen saying that he was at Hermione’s watching the kids while she tidied up.

He took a shower and dressed carefully. Black skinny jeans and a light, gray sweater. He slid his phone in his pocket before running to the kitchen to grab the ring he’d shoved behind the toaster and walking to the floo.     

                                       ***

After a heavy lunch, three rounds of free for fall quidditch and extensive cleaning charms they sat in the living room at the burrow. They were so tight on the loveseat that Draco was practically sitting on Harry. Not that he minded. He loved seeing Draco like this, flushed from the wine and the heat of the fire warming the room, smile stretched on his face, eyes wrinkled closed as he laughed at Ron’s expense.

Ron had seen the sweets on the coffee table next to Molly’s lemon bars and went right for them, forgetting his 26 years of being related to Fred and George. Like the vampire vine liquorice. And they’re stupidly big fangs. The situation being much funnier considering he was away on business and should’ve known better. Draco snorted once before laughing even harder, head on Harry’s neck, pointing at the fangs hanging out of Ron’s mouth.

Harry pulled Draco closer, pressing his lips to the back of his shoulder. “Draco?”

Draco hummed at his boyfriend, moving his hand to intertwine his fingers with Harry’s.

Harry pressed into Draco’s back as he fumbled with getting a box out of his pocket. At this point Hermione had looked over and elbowed Ron, who started gaping at Harry. Harry flashed a smile before squeezing his boyfriends side and moving him onto the couch. Eyes still closed, fingers still intertwined with Harry’s, and the ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. Finding the silence that fell over the room odd, he opened his eyes, to find his stupid boyfriend smirking at him.

Harry’s smirk deepened when he saw Draco’s eyes flicker to his left hand where a ring was currently resting and to the ring in the box. “You didn’t see that one coming, huh?”  

Draco blinked slowly, once at his ring and then at Harry, before throwing himself at Harry wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders and kissing his face wherever there was visible skin. He pulled away to plant his lips over Harry’s, letting his tongue glide over lips and then teeth when Harry laughed and pulled away.

“Draco Lucius Malf-”

“Yes,” Draco blurted.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks, let me.” Giving him a pointed look, he continued. “I’m going to make this quick. You’ve made the last couple of days for me unbearable wearing that ring around everywhere as if I’d given it to you. You’re so stubborn, and difficult. You make it so hard for me to think straight, even after four years, and I don’t think that will ever change. Will you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, marry me?”

“Yes.” He snatched the ring from the box, fumbling with getting rid of the one on his finger, eager to get the obviously charmed snake on his finger. He pressed his lips on Harry’s softly before pulling him into another hug, his lips ghosting the other boys ear. “You’re such a bastard. A sneaky, fucking bastard. I can’t believe I’m going to be with you for the rest of my natural life, you plebeian.”

“I love you too.”

[tales-of-the-party]

ToftP - Necessary Evil

Rizu: So..... none of the others were expecting me to actually get around to editing a story any time soon probably and I know Bry wants to start promoting the story soon, so I decided to go through story 4 and post it! I’ll try to take good pictures with my iphone (printer and scanner are in a box somewhere) of the characters soon!

Anyways before Eric complains I’m blathering on and on again... Here is the story!

“All I’m saying,” Coil said as he, Bry and Rizu walked into the marketplace, “is that it wouldn’t kill you to try being a bit quieter.” “Seriously.” Rizu added in. “When I was staying with you I got, maybe, five hours of sleep. Total.”

Bry snorted “Maybe you two deviants shouldn’t listen in on a husband and wife’s personal business.” Their pay for the eight months Bry, Rizu and he had been out doing jobs had finally arrived earlier that morning. Three hundred thousand gold each. “Get thicker walls then.” Coil hissed. “You’ve got the gold for it now.” “Can’t,” the warrior shrugged, “gotta buy and repair gear.” Coil and Rizu snorted in unison. Their gear had become kind of ragged during their travels, Coil had to admit. Coil was running low on throwing knives and bombs. He’d also noticed his blade was beginning to chip. He looked at Bry’s halberd and shield. They were suffering from the same issue. And he’d noticed, both during the last two months and from helping Rizu with the sick people in the slums, that Rizu was being extremely careful with her herbs and potions because she was running low. Now that their pay had come in, it was time to restock. Rizu wanted to make sure they had a full inventory before heading out on another mission. “I’m gonna go to Emerra’s Apothecary.” Rizu said pointing at one of the larger kiosks in the marketplace. “She should have my shipment by now. I might also stop by Roharin’s books, see if he has anything new.” “Alright,” Bry said as he wrapped an arm around Coil’s shoulders and shook him slightly, “I’ll be showing Coil to Galladun. See if we can get him some new gear.” “Meet up at the Guild Hall in two hours?” Rizu asked. “Two hours.” Bry and Coil said in unison. Rizu nodded and walked off to the kiosk she’d pointed out earlier. Once she was out of earshot Coil shot a glare at the large warrior. “You’ve got three seconds before you lose that arm.” he warned. Bry rolled his eyes, but removed his arm none the less. “C’mon,” he said pointing at the blacksmith, “this way. But a heads up.” Coil raised his eyebrow, wondering what he needed to worry about. “Galladun is a grumpy bastard.” Bry said rolling his shoulders. “He only makes gear for Guild members, but even then he won’t make ‘em for newbies.”

“That seems a bit...odd.” Coil said after a brief pause. “A lot of newbies to the Guild die,” Bry shrugged as they walked around a large group of people watching a Jester dance on a ball, “so a lot of what he makes goes to waste. So he only makes weapons and armor for veterans.” “Then why am I-” “However,” Bry interrupted, an annoying habit of his that sometimes made Coil wish the snake hadn’t alerted Bry when Coil was about to kill him so many months ago, “he’ll make an exception for a newbie who has a recommendation from a long time member of the Guild.” “Ah, that explains why you’re coming with me.” “Partly.” Bry said as they reached the opening to the smithy. “He may be a crotchety old bastard, but he makes the best gear I’ve ever seen.” From the inside of the smithy, Coil could hear a hammer pounding metal and he could see weapons of all types lining the walls. “Do you know the last time I had to get my halberd repaired?” Bry asked. When Coil shook his head Bry grinned and said. “Three years ago, and even now it’s just a couple small nicks and cracks.” The inside was hot and smelled of metal, heat and sweat. A large furnace sat against the far right wall, and a short ways away was an anvil, with someone standing over it and hammering away at it. “Who are ya an’ whadda ya want?” the figure asked, without turning around. His voice was rough and gravelly, like he had rocks in his throat. “Your favorite halberd wielding pal,” Bry said cheerfully, “and a stray that he picked up on the road.” Coil glared at him and Bry simply shrugged with a grin.

The figure hammered at his piece for a few more minutes before taking the metal he’d been beating into a pair of tongs and dipped it in a sink off to the side. The water hissed and steam rose. After a few moments he pulled it back out and inspected it. He turned and Coil had to suppress a grimace. The blacksmith, Galladun he assumed, was an elf and like all of his kind he looked young. He had black hair tied under a dark red bandanna and dark brown eyes. He wore a blacksmith's apron, the pockets on the front containing a small hammer, tongs and other tools, a sleeveless black shirt and black trousers with matching boots.

Starting under his left eye, covering his cheek and jaw, and going down just barely touching his shoulder, the skin was warped from being burned. Galladun narrowed his eyes when he saw Bry and he spit on the floor. “Thought ya were dead, given’ how long you’ve been gone.” “Oh please,” Bry drawled and waved his left hand in a dismissive gesture, “we were just taking a bunch of jobs. All of ‘em I coulda done in my sleep.” Galladun snorted and turned his gaze toward Coil. “You a Guild member?” he asked. Coil grabbed the corner of his mask and tugged it down slightly to reveal his Brand, visible only to Guild members. The elf snorted. “An’ how long have ya been in the Guild?” “Technically a week.” Coil said, tugging his mask back up. “But I’ve been traveling with Bry and Rizu for around six months.” Galladun’s face twisted up in annoyance and he looked toward Bry. “You know how I feel about new members.” the elft grumbled.

“I know, I know.” Bry said holding up his hands, palms out. “But that’s why I’m here. I can vouch for his skills, he’s almost as good as me.” Coil scoffed at the last comment. Galladun eyed Coil and strode up to him. Bry moved to the side and leaned against the wall. The elven blacksmith circled Coil several times, eyeing every part of him. “Thin, light gear, more the type for sneaking or quick strikes.” he heard Galladun mumbling as he circled Coil. Finally he stopped. “I’ve got some ideas for the wear, but for now I have some weapons that could work for your style.” “What would those be?” Coil asked, following the elf as he wandered to one of the walls and picked out a sword. “The first is this.” Galladun replied, handing the sword to Coil. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was similar to his current sword, a katana. But instead of one blade, there were two. The blades were about an inch to an inch and a half apart. The guard was in a thick diamond shape and the handle was wrapped in tight black lace. He noticed a small trigger under the guard. “The blades are close, so that even if you miss a killing shot,” Galladun rasped, “they’ll still either bleed out or die of infection.”

“Impressive” Coil said, giving the weapon some test swings, thrusts and twirls. “Press the trigger under the guard.” Coil did so and jumped slightly as the left side of the sword suddenly separated from the rest. He caught the half of the sword in his left hand. “It can split to become a double blade.” Coil said approvingly. “What else do you got for him?” Bry asked, walking forward and looking at the blades over Coil’s shoulder. Coil snapped the two halves back together and handed the blade back to the elf. Galladun walked to another section of wall and picked a bow off the wall. The longbow was painted black, the rubber grip fit snugly in his hand. There were four metal plates on the front of the bow, two on top and two on bottom. Between each set of plates was a long thin blade sticking out. “A bladed bow?” Coil asked, examining the weapon.

“Made of Ironwood.” the blacksmith said, then added proudly. “And the string is made of unicorn hair.” Coil pulled the string back as far as he could, testing the tension. He eased it back to it’s regular position and handed it back to the elf. “How much?” Coil asked. The elf grumbled a bit before spitting on the floor again. “Normally I’d say a hundred fifty thousand gold,” he said before flicking a wrist at Bry, “but since you’re with him, I’ll say a hundred twenty five thousand. And I’ll throw in thirty arrows for free.” “And for the sword?” “Same.” Coil rubbed his chin in thought, he admitted he liked both weapons but he wasn’t sure if he could afford both. He also needed throwing knives and bombs on top of needing to save a little bit to buy a house. After several more moments he looked up. “Give me the bow.”

“And what about you, runt?” the old elf asked, looking up at Bry “What’re you botherin’ me for?”

"Need some repairs to my halberd, ya old coot." Bry drawled. It was an old game between him and the elf, they’d insult each other and whoever reacted first lost.

"Oh, is that all?" Galladun asked as Bry handed him the weapon and he examined the weapon.

"No, I also want you to install Runes."

Galladun looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, Bry also noticed Coil look over at the mention.

"You sure about that, boy?" Galladun asked. "You know installing Runes is expensive."

"I know," Bry said with a grin, "but I’ve saved up quite a bit over the years."

Galladun let out a ‘hrmph’ and nodded.

"Which Runes do you want?"

"Sharpening on the halberd and impact on the shield."

The blacksmith chewed for several seconds.

"Normally I’d charge you nine hundred thousand." he said finally. "But for you...Seven hundred thousand."

Bry nodded and took his bag off his shoulders. He set it on a nearby table and opened the pouch containing his gold. He counted out the seven hundred thousand gold and placed it on the counter. Bronze were worth ten, silver twenty five. Gold was split into three categories: one hundred, one thousand and one hundred thousand.

After a moment’s thought he also pulled out four silver and five bronze.

"Need the halberd sharpened too, same with Coil’s sword."

"An’ the bronze?"

"A tip." Bry said with a grin.

Galladun gave Bry an evil eye look and sniffed.

"Give me about forty-five minutes." the old elf said, taking Bry’s halberd and Coil’s sword over to a whetstone.

"I thought you said he was a grouchy, mean guy?" Coil asked "Considering the discounts he gave us, I find it hard to believe."

"Yeah." Bry drawled with a grin. "I said it just to scare ya."

Coil punched him in his bare left arm and Bry laughed.

The near hour passed in silence, the two men watching the elven smith work. The sharpening had only taken a few minutes, no more than ten. Putting the Runes on Bry’s halberd and shield, however, took much longer.

After the final etching had been done he returned their weapons.

"You want me ta finish that armor for ya?" the blacksmith asked, pointing at Bry’s bare arm.

"No." Bry said, maybe a little too defensively. "It’s fine the way it is. Thanks though."

He noticed Coil staring at him, but only out of the corner of the rogue’s eye.

"Humph." the elf said "So be it. You lads need anythin’ else, or can I finally get some peace around here?"

"I need some throwing knives." Coil said. "and some bombs if you have them"

Galladun gave a grumpy sigh before turning toward the shop "I’ll see what I can find." He walked off, grumbling something about ‘annoying whipper snappers’

After Galladun was out of earshot Coil finally spoke.

"I’ve wanted to ask about that." he said eyeing Brys arm. "Not wearing armor on your left arm I mean."

Bry was silent for several seconds before flexing his left arm.

"It makes me look cool." he said finally with a smile.

Coil started at him flatly and snorted.

Bry hummed a few moments before Coil’s stare finally forced him to sigh.

"There’s a couple reasons." he said "You know I use my halberd with my left arm. Not having any armor over it gives it more flexibility."

"And the other reason?"

"My pride." Bry said, staring off and smiling slightly.

"You’re pride?" Coil asked, tilting his head.

"My left arm is my weapon arm. If I lose it, my life as a warrior and an Adventurer is over."

"All the more reason to put armor over it!" Coil hissed.

Bry shook his head and said "It’s a challenge, to anyone I fight."

Coil raised his eyebrows but Bry said nothing more on the matter.

The blacksmith returned shortly.

"How many ya need of each?"

Coil took several more seconds before tearing his eyes from Bry toward the elf.

"How much are they?"

"Ri! My love!" Emerra shouted when she saw Rizu break away from Bry and Coil and head toward her kiosk.

A human, Emerra was in her mid thirties with long sandy colored hair and big green eyes. She wore a long red and blue dress and a matching beret.

Rizu waved as she walked to the kiosk. Her old team had stopped in Largun two or three times and Emerra had been one of her first stops after receiving her pay. Part of the reason Rizu had decided to live in Largun was because of her. Emerra may not have had the largest stock of ingredients, but she had some of the best and most potent ingredients on half of the continent.

"Hello Emerra," Rizu said with a smile, "how have you been?"

"Without my favorite customer around? Business was… fair." Emerra said with a grin.

Rizu snorted.

"Did my shipment come in?"

"I believe it did." Emerra said turning to a stack of boxes behind her "Fifty Redroot, two jars of pinecones, ten orcish sunflowers-"

"That’s it" Rizu said quickly, the list of ingredients was long and she needed to make her potions quickly. "How much for it?"

"For the entire shipment…" Emerra hummed, tapping her chin "fifteen thousand."

Another reason Rizu used Emerra as her main source of ingredients, she always gave Rizu a great price. Rizu went through her coin pouch and pulled out the fifteen thousand.

"Appreciated love," Emerra said pocketing the coin "I’ll lend you a dolly so you can get it home."

"You’re too good to me, Emerra." Rizu said as Emerra slipped the dolly under the boxes, tilted it back and moved them out of the kiosk.

"Well naturally," the herbalist hummed "gotta treat the regulars right so they keep coming back."

Rizu moved behind the dolly and kicked it back, she turned to thank Emerra again but paused when she noticed the herbalist biting her lip in thought.

"What is is?"

"There’s...something I should tell you Ri." the woman said with a grimace. "Another white mage came by yesterday."

"Okay?" Rizu said with a tilt of her head "You expect me to act like you’re cheating on me by selling to other people?"

"No," Emerra said holding up her hands, "it’s...The people was she was. I recognized one."

Rizu wasn’t sure what to say, so she remained silent.

"It was Jarren," Emerra finally said, "he’s got a new group. And from what I could pick up of their chatter...they’re moving into the city after the job they’re out on."

Rizu felt her stomach clench up and her breath got caught in her throat.

Jarren had been the leader of the last team she’d been on. After finding out he’d been using her and shirking on her pay and that he was going to sell one of their members out for a bounty, she’d broken from the group on less than good terms.

"Ri?" the herbalist asked, snapping Rizu out of her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed she’d been gripping the dolly so hard, her knuckles were white and her fingers hurt like hell.

"I’m fine." Rizu said after taking a deep breath to calm her nerves "Thank you for letting me know."

Emerra said nothing, only nodding as Rizu walked away with the dolly and her boxes.

Her old team leader living in Largun. There was no way that they wouldn’t meet at some point. She’d deal with that hurdle when she came to it

.

"There she is." Coil said pointing out toward the far corner of the market. Bry placed his hand over his eyes and squinted.

Rizu was walking toward the Guild Hall, of which Bry and Coil were sitting on the rail while they waited, with Fluffles in tow behind her.

"Her walk…" Coil said hesitantly.

"She’s walking too fast," Bry said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Something’s bothering her."

She walked up to the two of them and only said "Let’s go."

"Something bothering you, short stack?" Bry asked, not moving from his spot.

Rizu glared up at him and Bry almost regretted the jokeful tone. She was in full on team leader mode.

He saw her clench her teeth and her fists tighten on her staff.

He flinched back slightly, preparing for the verbal assault he knew was coming. He was surprised when she sighed and her shoulders slumped.

"I’ll tell you two about it later." she finally said. "For now, let’s just focus on finding a job to do."

Bry and Coil shared a look. After a few moments of silence they both nodded and the trio entered the Guild Hall.

As always, the Guild Hall was full of people. Every seat of every table was taken. Even the bar stools were all taken.

They moved through the crowded group, Bry giving an evil eye to anyone that bumped them, and walked to the notice board.

"Not a lot of new jobs." Bry noticed, seeing the papers hung up on the board.

"Doesn’t matter," Rizu said reading through the notices, "we just gotta take whatever is available."

After a couple of minutes Coil pulled one off the wall.

"How about this one?" he asked, holding it out as Bry and Rizu leaned in. "It’s a request from a town being attacked by goblins."

"How’s the pay?" Bry asked.

"What does that matter?" Rizu asked shortly. "It’s people in need of help."

"Indeed." Coil said with a nod "But, to answer Bry’s question, it looks like seventy-five thousand."

"How far away?"

"It’s in a town called Hartua." Coil said, pointing at the name.

"Been through there, I think." Bry said rubbing his chin. "About a three days walk from the city."

"Why don’t the soldiers handle it though?" Coil asked. "It seems like something they should take care of."

"Probably think it’s too far beneath their notice." Bry huffed in annoyance "Back when I was with Boltol, the higher ups were like that. Anything not involving an invasion or invading force they left to the local Guild. Goblins usually travel around in groups of twenty to thirty, not enough to send the garrison out."

"Lazy asses." Rizu huffed, taking the paper out of Coil’s hand. "Let’s go."

"That it?" Bry asked, looking down from the hilltop at the town.

"Matches the coordinates on the map." Coil said. "So it must be"

"Let’s go introduce ourselves then." Rizu said from atop Fluffles, now back to his regular, large self.

She still chuckled a bit every time she thought of the looks on the guards faces when Fluffles passed by the wards she’d etched into the gate, turning from a small fluffball that she could carry with one arm into a massive beast that could tear through squads of soldiers like butter.

Hartua had one single road running straight through the town. The town itself was built like a box, houses on either side of the road with a single fence reach behind all the homes on either side. A ways off from the houses on the left was a large wheat field. The only exception to the box shape was the temple that was at the end of the rows of houses.

Easily the largest building around, it dwarfed the homes of the townsfolk. Made out of pure stone it had a vast stairway leading toward the entrance. Eight pillars stood on either side once they reached the top of the stairway. The door was twelve feet high and ten wide and were wide open.

The entire town was inside, praying. In the back past the pews was a tall statue of a humanoid figure wearing a toga, holding wheat in one hand and a hand scythe in the other.

Roth, Rizu thought, God of the Harvest. She thought people had given up worship of the Old Pantheon years ago. Interesting.

She looked to Bry and the warrior raised an eyebrow. She nodded in response.

He grinned and held his arms out as far as they could, and quickly clapped his hands together. The metal gauntlets created a booming echo throughout the temple, causing all the townsfolk to jump.

They turned, timid and frightened.

"Heard you guys have a goblin problem." Rizu said leaning forward and resting her arms on top of Fluffles head, her chin resting on her arms. "We’re here to see if we can help you with that."

The townsfolk were silent for a moment. Then the whispering began as the man who’d been kneeling right in front of the statue moments before came to greet them. He was bald, had tanned leathery skin with a short white beard and grey eyes

"I am Palanar, headsman of Hartua and priest of Roth, God of the Harvest." he looked between the three Adventurers and the chimera, then behind them. "Where is the rest of your force?"

"Force?" Rizu asked.

"We sent the request to the garrison at the Crown City..." the old man started.

"They handed it off to the Adventurers Guild," Coil said, "the three of us took the job to come and help."

The old man’s face fell and his shoulders slumped.

"It’s just a wandering Goblin group," Bry said with a shrug, "we can handle it in no-"

"It’s no group" Palanar whispered.

"Eh?" the three Adventurers said in unison.

"It’s an entire clan, numbering three hundred strong."

"Three hun-" Coil started, his hand flying to his head and beginning to rub his temples.

"We can make it work." Rizu hissed, scanning the pews. "I count four hundred people here. If we can set up a defense-"

"NO!" Palanar shouted, the ‘no’ echoing throughout the temple.

"We’re farmers," the old man explained, "the only ones among us who know how to use weapons are the hunters. We tried to fight when the creatures first arrived, two weeks ago, but…" he cut off and shook his head as tears began to form in his eyes.

Rizu looked through the crowd again, eyes turned down toward the floor and lips pressed together until they turned white.

"The goblins made an example of someone," Bry whispered after a few moments, "didn’t they?"

The old man looked up, tears streaming down his eyes, and nodded.

"Show us."

Coil stared at the corpses of the three young women, cut open throat to groin and hollowed out.

The goblin’s had done a rough crucification of the women, their bodies slumped against the wood, arms spread open with nails in the biceps, forearm and palms and their heels digging into the earth. The rotten flesh was dried out. They’d been dead for quite some time.

The former assassin shook his head ruefully and looked to his companions.

Rizu appeared calm, her breathing was controlled and her eyes were cold. But her hands were tightly clenched, her knuckles turning white and he thought he could see them shaking. If Coil had to compare, her fury was a storm held in by glass.

Bry, on the other hand, was an inferno that’d long since burned away the paper cage around it. His teeth were bared in a snarl, his eyes filled with pure fury and his nails dug into the flesh of his palm.

"Why?" Bry snarled, turning toward the townsfolk. "Why haven’t you taken their bodies down yet?"

The crowd either looked down or shied away from Bry’s fury.

"WHY!?" the warrior roared.

"Th-the goblins." Palanar stuttered, looking like he wanted to run "They threatened to burn down the town if we did."

Palanar’s answer seemed to add wood to the fire, Bry became more furious.

"Where are the husbands of these women?" Bry growled. "Bring them up here."

"Bry." Rizu said quietly, turning her head slightly to the warrior. "Stop it."

Coil felt a chill at Rizu’s tone. The mage’s implied far more danger than Bry’s at the moment.

But if the warrior had heard her words, he ignored them. Three men walked toward the group timidly and Bry walked toward them.

Faster than his bulk would suggest, Bry struck the middle man across the face with a backhand. The one on the left he kicked in the stomach.

The right one he grabbed and headbutt to the ground.

"Bry!" Rizu said louder, her anger finally showing. "That’s enough!"

Bry turned and glared darkly at the mage. Rizu returned the look, refusing to back down. Coil could swear he saw angry sparks fly between the two.

Finally Bry backed down. Turning to the three men, now struggling to get to their feet, he said "Pathetic. Your wives are dead and you’re too scared to even give them a burial."

"T-the g-goblins said-" the man Bry had backhanded started.

"It doesn’t matter!" Bry snarled. "You should have buried them properly, instead of looking at them each day and pissing yourself in fear."

The men looked down, trying to avoid eye contact with Bry. The warrior spit off to the side and turned away from them.

"Didn’t expect that." Coil said as Bry approached. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Bry so angry. "Didn’t take you for the kind of guy who’d get mad at seeing a few dead women."

"It’s not that." Bry said as he crossed his arms. "It’s that their own husbands are so pitiful they didn’t even bury them."

Coil stared at the warrior. For all the time he’d traveled with Bry and Rizu, Bry had always seemed guarded. Keeping his emotions locked down and revealing little unless it was needed. Seeing him in a rage and beating down those three men, Coil kind of understood why Bry seemed to keep everything down.

"A wolf of Boltol thing?" Coil asked, turning back to the bodies.

"No." Bry said with a shake of his head "It’s a decency thing."

"Enough banter," Rizu said with a sigh, "cut them down. We’ll try to figure out a plan to deal with the goblins after."

"No!" Palanar shouted "if you cut them down the goblins will-"

Bry and Rizu both turned toward the old man, their dark glares forcing him down.

They’d done it perfectly in unison. Must come from being partners for so many years. He wondered if he’d ever get to the point he could do that too.

"Let’s go buddy," Bry said lightly bumping Coil on the shoulder. "I’ll cut the back of the nails off, you pull them out. I need to test the Rune the old man put on my weapon."

Coil nodded and followed behind. As they worked, he tried to recall all the information he knew about goblins.

Some people theorized that goblins were smaller and weaker cousins to the orcs, though the orcs denied any relation to the beasts.

Goblins had no tusks like orcs did, and while most orcs could pass for humans without the tusks or the different skin colors.

Goblins, however, were small and twisted by their corrupt and bloodthirsty nature.

Orcs were a warrior race that only fought when glory was involved, but goblins tortured and killed for the sheer pleasure of it.

In terms of pure physical strength, the average goblin was slightly weaker than the average human. They weren’t very smart, though the bigger, stronger and smarter of them could speak some basic words of the sentient races.

All in all, if there were three hundred of them then he, Rizu and Bry had little chance of success. In an open battle Bry and Coil could, between the two of them, kill maybe fifty or sixty. Rizu could possibly kill a number more with her magic, but they’d be overwhelmed sooner than later.

"We need to call for backup." Coil finally said as he and Bry laid the last corpse down. "The three of us can’t handle this on our own."

"No." Bry said with a shake of his head. "It’ll take the guards or other Guild members days to get here."

Bry looked back at the town and the anger crossed his face again.

"We have reinforcements right there," the warrior said waving an arm at the town, "but they’d rather piss themselves than fight."

"They’re farmers, Bry," Coil said, "they don’t know how to fight."

"They don’t need to know how!" Bry said with a frustrated sigh. "All they need to do is overwhelm them. They outnumber the goblins!"

Coil shrugged.

"Some people would rather not take the risk of dying." he said. "It’s in every creature's nature."

Bry make a tsking sound before grabbing a nearby shovel and began to dig.

"Making them each a grave?" Coil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Bry growled, "if their incompetent husbands won’t do it, then someone has to."

Bry was halfway through the second grave when Rizu and Fluffles came back, shaking her head in frustration.

"They keep refusing to fight." she hissed. "So it’s up to the three of us."

"We’ll die." Bry grunted as he threw another mound of dirt off the shovel.

"We can make a strategy and-"

"We’ll die." Bry repeated "Three of us against three hundred goblins? The closest we’d get to winning is if we pin them in a choke off point."

"And even then they’d overwhelm us" Coil finished with a nod.

"Well," Rizu said, placing her hands on her hips, "we need to do something."

Fluffles let out a growl of agreement, eyeing the bodies and licking his lips.

"Don’t even think about it." Coil warned the beast.

"I do have an idea." Bry said quietly between shoveling. "But you won’t like it."

Rizu and Coil shared a look for a moment before returning their gaze to Bry.

"What is it?" the small mage asked.

Bry stuck the shovel in the ground, looking to make sure the three were alone.

"We burn the wheat field and blame it on the goblins."

Coil and Rizu’s eyes widened with shock.

"No," Rizu snarled, "absolutely not!"

"I second that." Coil said with a nod toward Rizu. "If we burn the wheat field, they’ll lose a source of food and income. We’ll be responsible for them dying, and I don’t kill anyone except my targets."

"They can always plant more." Bry insisted. "And it’ll force them to fight."

"How so?"

"A man with enough will can survive without food." Bry said, turning toward Coil. "A man with food can survive without will. But if a man has neither, he’ll become desperate and do whatever the person who offers him both tells him to do."

Coil rubbed his chin in thought. Bry had a good point, but still...to destroy the wheat field and starve these people just so he could make them fight? It didn’t sit well with him.

"I don’t know Bry…" Coil said, jumping slightly when Rizu slammed her foot and staff on the ground.

"No." she snarled. "It’ll do more damage than good to these people. The three of us can handle it."

Bry’s eyes darkened and he walked forward. He grabbed both of them by the backs of their heads and forced them forward toward the corpses.

"Look at them." Bry growled.

"Stop it Bry." Rizu hissed but Bry pushed them both forward, closer to the corpses.

"LOOK AT THEM!" he roared. "This is what they’ll do to us if we fight on our own. You like the thought of that? Being crucified, split open and hollowed out while they slaughter all those folks who don’t want to fight?"

He released his grip on their heads and shoved them forward onto their knees.

"Grow up." he snarled. "Three against three hundred isn’t a battle that can be won. If we want to survive, we need to get these people to fight."

Coil stared down at the body of the poor woman and lowered his head. Damn the man, he was right. No matter how Coil played it out in his head, the three of them always ended up dead and the town was torched to the ground. All except for the one where they forced the townsfolk to fight.

"He’s right Rizu," Coil whispered, "as much as I hate to admit it. We can’t win with just us."

Coil could see Rizu shaking and he could hear her grind her teeth as she thought of another way to try and get the people to fight or to fight three hundred goblins by themselves. She finally turned toward Bry, tears streaming down her face.

"Fine." she said quietly. "We’ll do it your way. But goddamn it Bry, I’ll never forgive you."

"Not looking for forgiveness," Bry said with a shrug, "just to survive and get the job done."

Coil sat on the branch, watching the road the townsfolk had said lead to where the goblins had set up camp.

Bry’s plan still didn’t sit well with him, he felt like every town person who died would be his responsibility. But he had to push those feelings down, they needed the people to fight if the three of them were to survive.

Keep telling yourself that, his subconscious said.

According to the townsfolk two goblins came every four days for payment of wheat, grain and meat. If they couldn’t provide the latter, the goblins just took one of the children.

After Rizu and Coil had left from hearing Bry’s plan, Rizu had said something that was still going through Coil’s mind.

"In a way, I’m glad it’s goblins and not bandits." the mage had said quietly.

"Why is that?" he had asked.

"Because, goblins are simple monsters. Animals kill for food, monsters kill for sport. It’d be much more terrifying if one of the sentient races willingly chose to do such evil, don’t you think?"

There was still evil in the world, even among the sentient races. But he’d never given much thought to such things, he’d never really had a reason to.

He saw movement down the road and used his Inner Magic to enhance his vision.

Two goblins wearing leather armor, wielding shoddy and rusted weapons.

The one on the left was taller, his skin a pale grey with dagger like teeth coming from between its lips. The one on the right had a near blue hue of skin, it’s lips cut away revealing all three rows of teeth.

Coil took an arrow out of his quiver, dipping it in oil and igniting it with flint. He took his bow in his right hand and aimed at the edge of the field.

When the goblins were within range, letting out a series of growls and grunts, he released the arrow. The wheat caught fire quickly and the goblins turned in surprise. Coil drew another arrow and aimed at the taller of the two.

Rizu wiped her brow as the patient she’d been working on sat up from the table and hobbled off.

"Next!" she shouted, waving to the next person in line.

She’d decided to spend her time helping to heal the people who’d been wounded by the goblins the first time the monsters had arrived.

She tried not to think of Bry’s plan and what would happen after. Even him mentioning it had felt like a physical blow. It went against everything she stood for as a white mage. It would save their lives, true, but so many townspeople would die as a result.

She still hadn’t spoken to Bry since his mention of it. If she did, she’d say something they’d both regret. The warrior was more than content with that, keeping himself busy with setting traps through the night.

She could understand from his point. He’d been a soldier and was still a warrior through and through out on the field. Fighting and survival were the two instincts he felt the most out in the field, but that didn’t make it right.

She’d already been stressed over the thought of running into Jarren again and Bry’s plan was pushing her to her limit.

She took a deep breath and forced the issue with Jarren out of her mind, she’d deal with it another time. For now, she needed to worry about keeping as many people alive as possible.

She heard a commotion out in the hall which quickly grew into a panic, then she could smell the smoke and waited until everyone’s backs were turned before biting her lip in anger.

"Fire!" She heard someone shout. "The fields are on fire!"

Her makeshift infirmary exploded into motion as the people in the hallway and the cots ran outside to see.

"Damn them." she whispered as she stood and grabbed her staff.

Even if the people did fight and survive, they’d still go hungry. Bry’s plan didn’t call for burning a small bit of the field, he claimed that wouldn’t be enough to encourage the people to fight.

He planned on burning it all.

She followed behind and grimaced at the black smoke already covering the horizon.

In the distance she could see Bry shouting at the villagers and pointing at the field.

She felt a wrenching in her gut at how he actually seemed HONEST about trying to help the people whose crops he was destroying.

She followed close to the crowd, several of them running to the well in the center of town with buckets in their hands.

She looked out at the large greasy black smoke as it rose higher and higher into the sky.

She made her choice. To hell with Bry’s plan, she’d find a way to convince the people without starving them.

She walked over to the well where people were getting their water. Several of the townsfolk looked at her in confusion, and some in rage or annoyance, as she crawled upon the stone well and stood.

She tapped her staff on the stone and focused her energy downward into the waters of the well. She smirked as she felt it go even deeper and reach into an underground lake. That was more than enough water.

Spreading her magic throughout the water, she rose her hand and the water burst from the well. She turned and held her hand out toward the fire.

A long snake-like length of water went from the well to over the fire. About fifty feet side to side and forty from top to bottom, the water slithered in the sky toward the area she’d indicated.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bry give her an annoyed look.

She felt a great deal of satisfaction clenching her fist and watching the water spread out, becoming a thin sheet and falling over the field all at once.

Steam mixed with the already high smoke, but from the looks of it she’d managed to put out the entirety of the fire.

Bry approached as the people cheered and leaned against the well.

"You’re eager to get us killed, aren’t you?" he asked, his tone flat.

"We’ll figure out another way to get them to fight, Bry." she said. "There has to be another way than that."

"They’d be hungry," he admitted, "but they’d still be alive."

"We can still use part of your plan." she said with a wicked grin as she spotted Coil walking down the road with something over his shoulders.

When he was close enough she saw him look toward the field before raising an eyebrow at them.

Coil stopped about thirty feet from them and dropped the goblin on the ground, an arrow sticking out of the back of its neck.

"A goblin?" one of the men asked as Palanar made his way to the front of the crowd.

"There were two of them," Coil said rolling his shoulders, "I saw them throw a torch into the field and shot this one, but the other got away."

"But...but why?" Palanar asked. "We’ve met their demands!"

"Probably found another spot to bleed dry." Bry said with a shrug. "Figure they don’t need you anymore. Probably set fire to the fields to starve you before coming and finishing you off."

A panicked buzz went through the townsfolk, several people simply fell to their knees or began to cry.

"Enough of that!" Rizu snapped, stomping a foot on the well.

The buzz slowed. It didn’t cease all together, but it was good enough.

"W-will you defend us?" Palanar asked, falling to his knees and pressing his forehead to the ground.

"We will," Rizu said with a nod, "but we can’t do it by ourselves."

"But you’re Adventurers!" someone shouted.

"Three Adventurers." she corrected "Against three hundred goblins. We could kill several of them, true, but we’d be overrun eventually and they’d still kill you all."

"What are we to do then?" Palanar asked. Rizu could tell from his tone he knew what she was going to say, and she felt her gut knot.

"Fight." she said "Bry and Coil are veteran fighters and can show you some of what they know within the upcoming days, and we can set traps."

"But we’re simple farmers." Palanar said once again, raising his head. "Besides our hunters bows, we have no weapons."

"Not true." Bry said with a snort.

All eyes turned toward the warrior and he hooked his thumb over toward the treeline about two miles out.

"You can make spears from the wood there. A spear’d be a better choice for you anyway, keeps the enemy at a distance. And I’m sure, being ‘simple farmers’ you have pitchforks around."

The people began to whisper again and Rizu whistled. The people in the back of the crowd parted as Fluffles made his way forward, stopping and sitting in front of Rizu. She pet him on the head and said "Fluffles, be a dear and make these people shut up so mama can finish talking."

The chimera rumbled, turning toward the crowd and roaring, shaking the dirt on the ground. The closest of the townsfolk covered their ears, and when Fluffles fell silent no one spoke"

"Thank you Fluffles, you’re mama’s good boy."

The chimera laid down, crossing his front paws and purred.

"Now." Rizu said placing her hands on her hips. "Yes, I can understand why you’d be scared. I’m sure very few of you have been in an actual fight."

"But that doesn’t matter," she continued, "you hold the numbers advantage. And, as I said, we can make traps to be sure the goblins take heavier losses."

"If you don’t fight," she said after several seconds of silence, "then they’ll burn this town to the ground, kill and likely eat all of you. Including your children."

She saw several of the townsfolk look up and their eyes harden.

"Now quit wasting time and let’s start getting ready. We’ve got four days."

The people nodded solemnly and broke off, the majority running off to the farms to grab saws and axes to break down the trees and begin making spears.

"Not half bad," Bry said with a slow clap, "not half good either, but I’ll give it some credit."

Rizu snorted in response.

"I think this is a better alternative." Coil said walking up to the pair and petting Fluffles between the shoulders. "Your plan was going to leave a bad taste in my mouth. And this way, they fight AND don’t starve."

Bry shrugged "I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong."

"Do we have an actual plan for how we’re going to do this?" Coil asked, turning to Rizu.

"I have some ideas, but we need to make sure everyone has the weapons they need and at least a little bit of training. So I don’t think any of us are going to be getting much sleep."

"I’ll scout around. See which paths the goblins are most likely to take and mark them for traps."

Coil said walking off.

"Guess I’ll get ready to show these farmers how to fight." Bry said stretching. "What about you?"

"What I was doing before, tending to the sick and wounded." the mage replied as she stepped down from the well.

Bry nodded and began to walk off before stopping and walking over to the dead goblin, a grin on his face.

"Hey Rizu," Bry said lifting the goblin’s head with one hand, "you never told me your twin lived this far from home."

A vein twitched under her right eye and she bashed him over the head with her staff.

The warrior cursed and rubbed his head "You’re right, this is MUCH too pretty to be YOUR twin."

Three more twitches. Three more hits.

"So does everyone understand the plan?" Rizu asked looking between Bry, Coil, Palanar and four of the younger townsfolk Bry had chosen as commanders. All seven nodded.

"Considering it’s your plan, I’m actually somewhat impressed." Bry said, crossing his arms.

"What’s yours? ‘Hit them really hard’?" Rizu asked, deepening her voice to a mocking tone at the second half of her question.

"If it works, it works." Bry said with a shrug and a grin. "And it’s always worked for me."

"Are they normally like this?" Pelenar asked, raising a brow at Coil.

"Oh no," Coil said with a smile, "normally they’re MUCH worse than this."

The meeting was in Palanar’s barn, forty feet tall from ceiling to floor and forty wide, one of the biggest buildings in the town and perfectly centered to send orders from before the goblins arrived in less than an hour.

"Does anyone have any changes they think need to be added?" Rizu asked looking between the group.

"I… may have an idea." Coil said, rubbing his chin. "But I’m going to need all the hunters in the village and two of our lance fences."

"Oh ho?" Bry asked, a grin crossing his face. "What do you have in mind?"

"You’ll have to wait and see my friend." Coil said returning the smile.

Rizu watched from over the top of one of the houses as the goblins reach the edge of the town. Several were bloodied and wounded from the traps set up on the roads Coil had scouted out.

Every single one of them were angry.

Only a small number of them were carrying torches, looking side to side as they prowled the streets.

"Looks like everyone’s in position." Bry said with a small smile. "We just need them to get a little bit further in before Coil springs his surprise."

Rizu nodded and looked behind her, where half the townsfolk were hiding under fake foliage and fake grass, preparing for their attack.

Finally the last goblin made its way into the center of the town.

"Send the sig-" Rizu started but cut off as she felt a small shiver run through her spine. She reached out with her magic senses and her eyes widened.

She felt three magical presences among the goblins. Their aura’s felt as greasy and cruel as regular goblins were.

She tried to stop Bry, waving her hand toward him and hissing. Her heart fell as he lit the signal flare and fired it into the air, catching the attention of the goblins.

She hadn’t counted on there being a magic wielding goblin, let alone three of them.

Coil spotted the flare from his hiding place at the last house before the temple and motioned to the fifteen hunters with him, seven with him and eight on the other side. Four on each side moved behind the large carts they’d hidden alongside themselves and pushed them out into the streets, side by side. The goblins spotted them but were too slow to reach them. Coil and thirteen of the hunters scrambled on top of the carts, the last two taking a position on either end of the carts and began firing into the charging goblins, about fifty.

For every one of Coil’s arrows that hit a target, the hunters missed three. Knowing what was going to come soon, Coil made sure to pick off the biggest brutes of the charging horde.

He made sure to hit eyes and throats with every shot. The hunters arrows more often than not would hit some of the leather armor the goblins were wearing. By the time he’d downed his thirteenth goblin all the hunters combined had killed four and wounded seventeen others.

The goblins closed, in howling for the humans blood. Coil waited until they were twenty feet before turning to the hunters on the ends of the carts and shouting "NOW!"

The hunters on the ground grabbed a pair of ropes (one on either end) and pulled, lifting two large lance fences. Each of the wooden steak was eight feet long and tied so close together the tips were mere inches apart, leaving no gaps for the goblins to squeeze through.

The first few goblins tried to halt their charge, but the group behind hadn’t seen the fences yet.

The first row of goblins were pushed into the spikes with, oddly, satisfying crunches as the steaks tore through them.

Now at point blank range, the hunters didn’t need to really aim. Just fire into the group of goblins and quickly finished off the remainder of the group of fifty.

The main force of goblins shrieked and roared in fury as they moved to charge the barricade, knowing the archers would be low on arrows by now.

Rather than be afraid, Coil smiled as he saw a large form dash across one of the roofs, howling as it leapt and landed on one of the charging goblins, crushing the unfortunate beast.

The three in front turned to see what had happened to their companion and lost their heads in one strike as Bry’s halberd slashed across their necks, the goblins behind momentarily stunned by the large warrior.

Then the screaming began again, this time as the people of Hartua charged with wooden spears, pitchforks and saws from either side of the town and caught the goblins in the middle.

Coil drew his sword and jumped off the top of the cart, over the fences and the goblin corpses decorating them and dashed into the battle, his sword in his left hand and his bow in his right.

Even with the numerical advantage and the small amount of training, Bry could see the hesitation and fear from the townsfolk as they fought the much better geared goblins. He needed to make sure their morale didn’t break. With such a small force he figured twenty percent casualties would be enough to break the townsfolk morale and they’d break rank, and if that happened the goblins would slaughter them. So he’d always throw himself into wherever the fighting was thickest, keeping as many of the farmers alive as he could.

He had to give the old elf credit, the Runes and repair to his gear was top notch. With the sharpening rune he cut through the goblins like a hot knife through butter, one swing and they were in pieces. With the impact rune he barely felt whenever his shield was struck, even when one of the goblins went at him with a mace.

The goblins seemed to realize that he was the one pushing the hardest and causing the most casualties on their side, the tip off was when a dozen of them broke off from their engagements and swarmed at him.

He downed the first with a strike from head to toe, splitting the monster in half. The second he shoved aside with his shield to stab the third in the throat.

The fourth got through and slashed the joint in his leg armor, cutting his knee. He fell to one leg and used his shield to cover his head and neck, feeling the goblins blows banging off his armor.

He thrust out with his halberd, smiling viciously when he heard one of the goblins shriek in pain has the spiked tip tore through it’s stomach.

He felt his grip on his shield loosen as one of the goblins struck his right arm.

Then the attacks stopped after several slashing and gurgling noises.

"Never thought I’d see you kneel." he heard Coil say mockingly.

"Just needed a break, figured I’d give you a chance to look cool. For once." Bry said with a sneer as he stood, limping slightly.

Both Coil’s sword and the blades on the front of the blow were coated with thick goblin blood.

"We need to find their leader." Bry said, glancing around the battle. "He’ll be the biggest and most heavily armed. Take his head and the goblins should flee."

"I had the same thought." Coil said with a nod.

A crackling sound drew both men’s attention upward-

-too late as a bolt of lightning struck between them, throwing them back and on the ground.

Bry and Coil struggled to their feet, barely getting there before a ball of flame appeared before them and exploded, turning the corpses below them and some of the townsfolk and goblins around it into charred meat.

Bry lifted his shield in time to keep it from burning his face, and Coil had ducked behind the warrior.

He felt his armor heat up and he began to sweat as it lightly seared his flesh.

The culprits of their attacks appeared a moment later as a trio of goblins approached through the center of the battle.

The one on the left wore only a bear hide cloak, the top of the bear's jaws over it’s head.It stood at about five feet tall with grey skin marked with blood red paint in random claw-like patterns across its body. In one of its claws was a spear

The one on the right was wearing a brown sheet like a robe over it’s left shoulder. This one had dark green skin and carried a long handled iron axe in one hand.

The middle one had blood red skin and stood the tallest of the three at five foot six, with with only a loincloth and a headdress made from what appeared to be a child's skull, the six tassels behind it were spines likely tied onto the skull. This one wielded a two handed mace as it’s staff.

"Magic using goblins?" Bry asked, shaking as the armor continued to sear him. "Fuck me."

"Bry?" Coil asked, turning toward the warrior. "Are you okay?"

Truthfully, he’d felt better. He was using his Inner Magic to increase his body’s defenses so the searing wasn’t too bad, but the attacks they’d taken while off guard had left him shaky.

The goblin on the left raised his spear and an arc of lightning burst from its tip and slammed into Bry’s shield.

The electricity coursed through his shield and into his arm, making it go numb. His arm slumped and the shield dropped from his fingers.

Coil ducked under Bry’s left side and fired an arrow at the trio.

The middle goblin lifted it’s weapon and the arrow was blown back by a gust of wind, forcing Coil to duck his head before the arrow could hit it.

All three goblins raised their hands and pointed at Bry and Coil.

"Oh fuck me, sideways." Bry cursed as the energy left the goblins hands. The lightning and fire mixed with the wind, making a small horizontal tornado that snaked its way toward the duo.

Bry raised his halberd before, not sure what he thinking in hoping that it’d somehow shield at least a little of the-

-the attack stopped three inches in front of the halberd.

Bry was sure the look of confusion on the goblin mages faces mimicked his own. He looked at his halberd in shock.

"Did I-?" he started until a small white and red form walked by him.

"Don’t flatter yourself dear." Rizu said standing before the two men, facing the goblins. Fluffles walked by them, a dead goblin hanging by the neck in his jaws.

Without turning, Rizu pointed her hand toward Bry and Coil. Two orbs of golden light floated from her palm and floated toward the two men, going into them. Bry felt his wounds healing the moment the orb went into him, the flesh and muscle knitting and the searing receding and new flesh forming over the burns. Feeling came back to his right arm and he knelt, picking up his shield.

"Thanks for the assist" he said with an indignant huff.

The mage snorted and waved her left hand dismissively.

"Need our help taking these guys?" Coil asked, drawing an arrow.

"No." the mage said shaking her head. "You two go deal with the chieftain, I’ll handle these three. Their aura’s aren’t much, they’re probably just novices."

"Novices?" Bry asked, unsure.

"Yeah, and they kicked your ass." Rizu said with a laugh. "It was pretty funny to watch."

"You little-" Bry said taking a step forward but backed off as Fluffles turned and growled at him.

"Fluffles," Rizu said sweetly, "go with them and keep them alive for mommy. Heaven knows what trouble they’d get into without me."

The chimera let out a low yowl of acknowledgement and hunched down so Bry and Coil could get on his back.

After the two men had taken their seats the beast set off at a dash, Bry howling as he cleaved heads off the goblins.

"Now," Rizu said, tapping her chin with one finger, "not only are you killing innocent people but you’re also abusing elemental magic."

The goblins growled and snarled at her in their own language. Their auras had caught her off guard before. But compared to her own magical power… If each of them was a river, she was a volcano.

"And not only those," she said as a sickly sweet smile crossed her face, "but you tried to kill my teammates. That’s a big no-no. You’re just a bunch of unruly children."

The goblin controlling lightning snarled and threw a bolt at her as the flame wielding goblin lobbed a few balls of fire at her.

Rizu raised a magical bubble, slowing the bolt and fire. She sidestepped the flames, and formed a glove-like shield around her right hand. She took the bolt in her and and looked at the surprised goblins.

"Naughty children should be punished." she said coldly as she spun in a circle. Just before she completed her spin she dropped the bubble and released the bolt, sending it back at its original owner. The bolt tore through the top of the goblin’s head, destroying the upper part of the skull, leaving only its lower jaw downward.

"You’re outmatched here." she said pointing at the goblin she’d just killed as it’s body hit the ground. "If you throw down your weapons, leave and never abuse your magic again I’ll let you go"

The goblins responded by combining their magic, the fire wielder jetting flames from both hands while the wind user used his magic to make the flames more powerful.

Rizu let out a low sigh and held out her hand, a golden wall forming between her and the flame. The flames burst out of either side forcing the townspeople and the common goblins to move back or be roasted alive.

"See, you really are novices." she said with another sigh. "You can only use your magic in a straight line. You can’t even get creative, like I can."

She snapped her fingers and the wall pushed forward, stopping just a few inches away from the two goblins. She snapped again and a second wall appeared behind the two goblins. Two more snaps and two more walls on either side, forming a box.

With nowhere for the flames to escape from the sides, the wind-enhanced flame went around into the box and burst upward. By the time she dropped the walls the two magic using goblins had been burned down to the bone.

She cast a glare at the goblins around her, maybe thirty in all, daring them to keep fighting or to attack her.

The goblins broke rank and ran. The townsfolk around her cheered and Rizu hunched over and began breathing hard.

She’d been more powerful and skillful for sure. But healing Bry and Coil, making the bubble to slow the goblins attacks, the shield glove letting her grab the lightning and four walls holding up against a combined magic attack had drained too much of her own magical energy.

If they’d been rivers, she was a volcano. And a volcano released everything in one blast.

"Gonna have to rely on smaller shields for awhile." she said, breathing deeply as the townsfolk gathered around her in case any of the goblins came back.

After a few more deep breaths she stood straight and turned to where the battle was going on. Their side had managed to encircle the goblins and were pressing in on every side.

"Half of you," she said, referring to the people around her, "clear the bodies here away. Four of you go find some tarps and nails to pin them down."

"And the rest, lady mage?" a woman holding a hand scythe and her torso covered in blood asked.

"The rest of you," Rizu said, looking around, "starting bringing the wounded here."

Between a man dual wielding a katana and a bladed bow on the left, a massive warrior with a shield and halberd in the center and a chimera on the right, Bry was surprised the goblins ranks hadn’t broken yet.

Their chieftain must be quite fierce to keep them in line even after losing so many.

They were down to the last fifty or sixty goblins now, and their small army had the goblins surrounded.

The formation was one Coil, Bry and Fluffles had practiced on the road but hadn’t had a chance to use yet.

But it was more effective than they thought it’d be.

Coil defended Bry’s left arm, keeping enemies from attacking while he’s recovering from his swings, and by doing so he could temporarily jump back when Bry struck giving him enough time to catch his breath.

Bry’s shield not only defended himself, but also covered Fluffles left side, allowing the Chimera to deal with enemies that struck it from the front or right.

The goblins were fighting more ferociously now, taking several wounds from the townsfolk before they fell. Usually it ended up with one or two of the people wounded or killed by the single goblin.

"There!" Coil shouted, pointing toward the back of the goblin ranks.

There Bry got a look at the chieftain. A brute of a goblin, it stood nearly six feet, but was much wider than a regular one. Even wider than Bry was.

And unlike the smaller goblins around it, this one wore steel armor over it’s torso and legs. It even had a steel helm to go along with it.

And he was using a massive double headed axe.

"See if you can take him down from here." Bry growled. As much as he wanted to fight the beast, ending the battle quickly was the best thing to do.

Coil jumped back as Bry swung his halberd, severing two goblins heads with one swing, and knocked an arrow. He aimed for a few seconds before the arrow went flying toward it’s target.

The chieftain grabbed one of the smaller goblins and held it up, using it as a shield as the arrow sank into the smaller beasts back.

"Bastard." Bry growled, baring his teeth. "Using his own men as a shield."

"Looks like we’re going to have to get dirty if we want to kill him." Coil said, stabbing a goblin in the neck with his sword and kicking it back.

"Fluffs." Bry said turning to the Chimera. "Think you can get us over there?"

The large beast let out a loud roar of challenge and the two men climbed on his back.

Fluffles burst forwarward, trampling all goblins that dared to stand in his way while Coil kicked goblins in the head or kicked aside their weapons. The chieftain spotted their approach and roared his challenge at them. Fluffles jumped into the air and went to crash his front paws down on the large goblin.

The chieftain took a stepped forward, swinging his weapon and catching Fluffles in his left ribs. The chimera let out a yowl of pain and crashed into the ground, throwing Bry and Coil off. Coil rolled as he fell, coming up on his feet. Bry fell face first into a pile of corpses, swearing as he got up. Coil dashed forward into a group of goblins charging at the wounded chimera with their weapons raised.

The chieftain turned and it’s mouth turned upward into a smile.

"You hurt our kitty cat." Bry said taking a step forward. "Gonna bleed you for that."

The goblin lept at him, it’s weapon held in a two handed grip.

Bry raised his shield and took the force of the blow, surprised when he was actually forced back a few inches.

"Tough son of a bitch, aren’t you?" he snarled, swinging his shield arm and sending the goblin’s weapon wide.

He stabbed his weapon forward, aiming for the chieftain’s throat.

The large goblin side stepped the strike and punched a meaty fist into Brys face, lifting the warrior off his feet and sending him back.

The chieftain wasted no time pinning Bry to the ground and raising his weapon to cleave Bry’s skull open.

Bry raised one hand, catching the haft just below the blade and using his Inner Magic to strengthen his muscles.

The goblin leaned down, snarling and drooling on Bry’s face. He could smell the rancidness of the beast's breath.

"You," the warrior struggled, "should...try...chewing...on...some mint… Might help that breath of yours."

The goblin pulled back, forcing Bry to break his grip on the weapon, and raised it for a two handed strike.

A shadow saved him, leaping forward and using both feet to kick the chieftain in the face and send it back.

"But I don’t think there’s anything that can fix that ugly face of yours." Coil said as the goblin got back to its feet and snarled.

"By the way," Coil said turning to Bry as the warrior stood, "I was talking to both of you."

"Har har, I’ll kick your scrawny ass later." Bry growled as the goblin charged. "Less talking, more fighting."

The chieftain swung his blade at Coil, but the former assassin nimbly danced around the brute’s strikes almost looking bored. Bry pressed forward, swinging and stabbing. The goblin was forced to pull back, blocking each strike by the skin of it’s teeth.

Bry felt a toothy smirk cross his face when a pair of throwing daggers appeared in the joints of the armor around chieftain’s shoulders, making its attack and defense decrease even further.

The chieftain jumped back as Bry howled and charged forward, stabbing at it’s stomach.

The large goblin grabbed one of its followers and held it in front as a shield, blocking it from view as Bry impaled the smaller beast.

He swung his shield out, preparing for it to jump and strike from his right.

The warning shout from Coil registered only AFTER the goblin went around his left and brought it’s axe down. Bry tried to dodge to the side but was too slow, taking the axe between his neck and shoulder.

The warrior clenched his teeth and gasped, refusing to cry out. The chieftain’s face turned upward into a smile. It didn’t pull the axe out by lifting, it PULLED, the axe grating on the bone and making Bry’s vision not only flare in and out but also different colors. The warrior collapsed and didn’t move. The goblin prepared to strike again, only to look at it’s hand in confusion as Coil cut it off at the wrist.

"You bastard!" the rogue snarled, ducking under the goblin’s backhand and slashing the tendons in it’s legs with the blades on his bow.

The goblin yelped and fell to its knees, struggling to rise.

The last thing the chieftain saw before dying was a snake, its fangs bared and death in its eyes.

"Stop fidgeting!" Rizu shouted, slapping her patient on the head when he flinched. It had been two days since the battle and still the wounded were coming for treatment. Luckily, many of these people were used to getting cuts from woodcutting or out in the fields, so many of those who hadn’t been hurt or were less wounded were helping her deal with those who were still recovering.

And since she’d regained most of her magical power, the healing was going much faster. She looked out at the ‘waiting room’, seeing only Bry and Fluffles sitting there.

She’d flown into a panic when she’d seen the two of them after the battle. She’d used herbs to seal off the wounds, but Bry had refused to allow her to heal him with her magic until all the townsfolk were taken care of.

Coil, she knew, was out helping with the burials.

Her current patient got another slap on the head as he twitched when she placed her hand on his calf, which had been split open by an axe. She poured her magic into the wound, watching the muscles, veins and skin knit back together in golden light.

The man stood on the leg and laughed happily as he jumped and didn’t fall over from pain.

"Thank you Lady mage!" he said, tears in his eyes.

Rizu snorted with a smile and shooed the man out of the infirmary.

Bry walked in and sat down on the wooden box she used to seat her patients.

"How’s the arm feeling?" Rizu asked, unwrapping the sling she’d had him keep his arm in for the last couple days.

"Stings like a dockside whore," Bry said with a shrug. "but you know I’ve dealt with worse."

"Shirt." she said.

Bry removed the shirt, showing the red stained wrappings she’d placed a few days before. She slowly unwrapped it, trying not to move too suddenly in case it hurt. She winced when the wrappings finally came off and she saw the wound.

The herbs she’d used had managed to slow the meat from rotting and setting in an infection, but she could see and smell some of the rot coming from the wound.

"Hold still, this will only take a second." she said gently scooping out the herbs and placing her hand on Bry’s shoulder. She saw a small twitch of Bry’s eye, the only indication of his pain.

She took a deep breath and poured her magic into him. She watched as the dying flesh became pink again. She watched, as with the other patient, as the skin, muscle and veins fused back together.

She did not, however, see the cuts to his bones heal. Flesh was her healing specialty in magic, she didn’t have the finesse for sickness or infections unless using herbs and potions, and even with the raw power she could summon from her magic bones were too complicated for her to heal without her Inner Magic.

She pulled her hand off Bry’s shoulder and nodded.

"How’s that?"

"Better than mama’s kisses when I was a kid." Bry said rolling his shoulder. She could still see a slight flinch but a grin crossed his face.

"I couldn’t heal the bone." she said quietly, shaking her head "I’m sorry. It’d take far more magical power than I have at the moment. We’ll try when I’ve rested and regained more."

"Bah!" the warrior said placing a hand on her head and ruffling her hair. "Don’t worry about it. It’ll heal in time, I’m sure."

"Keep messing up my hair and I’ll break your arm." Rizu said flatly. Bry laughed but removed his hand anyway.

"We heading back soon?" he asked, sitting back on the box.

She nodded "After the funerals."

"This job was not worth seventy five thousand" Bry said with a huff.

"Is money all you think about?" Rizu huffed out, walking over to Fluffles and rubbing his mane.

"You try raising a family, then bitch at me about money." Bry said, indignantly. "Besides, money isn't all I think about. There’s also food."

Rizu snorted and said "If you’re well enough to joke, you’re well enough to go out there and help with the burials."

"Oh ow, I think some of the stinging is coming back." Bry said walking out into the waiting room

"I’m too tired to hit you." Rizu sighed turning to place her items into her pack. "Fluffles, do it for mama."

She was rewarded with a satisfying thud and a loud curse from Bry.

[matazz]

entries

diary entries of roy endoza

here’s some journal entries of roy endoza that i wrote for the duration of the campaign. for the most part, i kinda wrote these in my twitter drafts just to write down roy’s thoughts. sometimes to remember events that happened, and sometimes just to vent out roy’s feelings to myself. i ended up saving these on a document for safe keeping and i’m glad i wrote these.

‪entry 47‬

‪i miss milo so much. his laugh, his eyes, his smile. i would do anything to have that back.‬ ‪i know its my fault he’s gone. its only been a few months, but i’ll fix that; all of it. no matter how long it takes, no matter what happens. i’ll find some way to do it.‬ ‪entry 53‬ ‪i’ve retrieved a letter from a dream telling me to visit latham and retrieve a key. i’m curious, so i’ll check it eventually. it was definitely odd.‬ ‪entry 55‬ ‪i met a young boy. his name is fox. he’s some sort of shapeshifter. he’s quiet, but his presence is nice company. he also received a similar letter to mine. i have a feeling we’ll be travelling for a while.‬ ‪entry 62‬ ‪we retrieved the key & met some other ppl with letters too. we’re heading to a trinket store back in origin now. i dont wish for them to know of my life so i’ve found a way to steer them as far from possible to finding out about myself. i’ll probably visit ma too.‬ ‪entry 63‬ ‪an elf woman named leera attacked us after i told her i wasnt going to give her this key. i dont like her. she seemed very cocky.‬ ‪entry 65‬ ‪delilah is kind.. i feel like i’m able to trust her. i asked her a question about my goals, vaguely, and it turns out that ayce asked a similar question. based on the message in his later i get the feeling he’s undead.‬ ‪entry 66‬ ‪i told ayce the biggest con in all of history.. but i confirmed he’s undead. i have more hope in my goals now that i know its possible. he hugged me bc he thinks we’re similar. i dont usually allow people to do that but i’m sad for him. i wish i could ask more about him. ‬‪entry 69‬ ‪i’m getting closer to ayce, unexpectedly, but good for me. i need his information.‬ ‪he talks to me a lot about his life; i think he’s become dependent on me which is easy for me. its hard for him to see i’m using him when i lie to his face.‬ ‪entry 72‬ ‪we’re travelling to copper coast now for another key. if it werent for ayce, i wouldnt see any other reason for me to come. fox is still around, but i feel like he's doing his own thing. the other two arent big presences for me to care about.‬ ‪entry 73‬ ‪atlas is a werewolf? i didnt think those were real. this group keeps getting stranger. first a shapeshifter, second an actual living zombie, third a werewolf.‬ ‪ive continued my lie to the rest of them. they all seem to have believed me, strangely enough‬ ‪entry 74‬ ‪copper coast was very pleasant. i wish to come back someday.‬ ‪entry 88‬ ‪this trip to clandesteine has been a disaster.. what the honest fuck‬ just happened ‪entry 90‬ ‪fox told everybody about himself, finally. i feel this huge sense of pride?? i’m very proud of him. i dont understand why i feel so attached to him but i adore him so much‬ ‪entry 92‬ ‪((incoherent scribbles, kinda like “vsdjfsasifwnqkosdkv”)) i think i accidentally implied to ayce that i love him romantically and i think he loves me too... i’m freaking out and i dont know how to react... i think he thinks i’m cool and romantic but i didnt mean to be. ‪entry 93‬ in all honesty, i just wanted to tell him he needs to be more cautious of me. a part of me wishes he could figure it out himself so i dont have to tell him. ‪seriously! i dont know how i did that! i do love and adore him too but i feel like shit.. i dont deserve him, especially considering who i am. on the other hand, i hope he never finds out the truth about me.‬ ‪entry 94‬ ‪oh my god. atlas killed a man and ayce and fox proceeded to tell the guards. i feel sick. i’m currently at home but if they say my name at witness testimony i’m royally fucked. i dont know. i might just run for it and live in myr’s peak. maybe no one will find me.‬ ‪entry 95‬ ‪the group managed to get bailed out using ty’s name. benefits of being friends with rich people?‬ ‪fox found my poster though, so he saved my name during eyewitness testimony. i told him the truth. its been the first time i told someone how i really felt. he wants me to tell ayce but hes the last person i can tell. ‪entry 97‬ ‪we’re in lunarden! it feels nostalgic to be back.

i want to go back to every place i miss. i took ayce to that me and nori used to go to back in high school. i think shes currently performing in solardome? i miss her‬ entry 97.2 ‪i came up with a few different ways to complete my goal. i have a few more probing questions, but i will have to ask later. i think i’m getting closer to the answers‬ entry ‪97.3‬ ((scribbled out)) ‪i havent had sex in a while. i’ve wondered this before but realized it was an inappropriate question to ask. i wonder if ayce’s dick works? it probably doesnt. this is so sad. i dont know how i’m going to fuck him if thats true.. yikes‬ ‪entry 98‬ ‪i’m planning to get completely smashed once we get to solardome. i feel like i deserve it.. ive been pretty stressed and havent got laid. i’m crying remembering that ayce might not even be an option.‬ ‪entry 98.2 ((lost)) ‪i love ayce so much, and its confusing. am i just sexually frustrated? am i just lonely? am i just sad? i feel guilty because it tears me apart. im confused because i love milo still, too. i know i should tell him the truth, its whats right but i know he’ll hate me. i dont know what to do. (extra note inbetween the pages, torn out: to mom. i love you venhfrhdy mcuh. thank you fir everhything. yes. roy.) entry 98.3 what happens if i succeed? i hope ayce doesnt kill me. entry 100 ‪good morning. ayce & i are officially dating. were in solardome atm; i dont remember much of last night but i remember thinking he‘s beautiful. is it wrong to fall for him?‬ ‪entry 101‬ ‪good evening. i saw ms winters. she was undead, just like ayce. she died a year ago. her soul was lost though. i killed what remained of her undead corpse. i assume she was trying to remain in this world.. i’m scared that this will happen to him too. maybe ill have to do the same to him. entry 101.2 i hope ayce's soul is able to sustain in his body for longer. i cant afford to lose him. entry 101.3 ‪the blackness on my fingers has risen up more than it has before. its almost hard to write with my hands anymore. i assume its bc the gods know what i'm doing & are against it, so they're trying to give me more recoil than usual. but the last time i killed an undead corpse was in my house 6 months ago, and i promise that the last time i will use it is when i bring milo back. (torn note inbetween the pages: hi ayce. its unrealistic you'll ever find this but there's some things i want to say. back when we first met, i lied to you as a reflex when you asked me why i'm dealing with necromancy. to be honest, i could kind of gather you were undead, but i still lied anyway. my story is personal, its hard for me to be honest. i know i'm an idiot, and i'm sorry i used you. to be truthful, i still am a horrible person and for the entirety of our relationship i've already known that i was using you and i've felt so guilty about that. my feelings are complicated, but i've never lied when i said i loved you, and i still do; but i still want to bring milo back. i made a mistake and i want to fix that. the truth is that i still love him too. i know you deserve better. i'm sorry about lying to you. roy) entry 102 a dragon made us experience our dreams and nightmares. jade's scared of blindness and bugs. a valid fear, in a way. and she was dreaming of doing shows. i think it was supposed to display a feeling of happiness and joy, but it was just spooky since we all experienced her dreams with no sound. i never realized how scary it was to be deaf until i experienced it. atlas' was morbid. people were dying and there was so much gore. then there were people saying they owned him. i knew he was a bad person but it was scary to see all of that again. he dreamt of a workshop with a girl and a young boy. it seemed sweet, with a tinge of nostalgia. i would have never expected him to have dreams. he just seems like a horrible person with no sympathy to me, but i guess he has feelings. i still think he should go to jail, but i feel like he'll just try to kill me if i say anything instead. fox's was sad. we got thrown into a void

of empty space where we were surrounded only by dopplegangers and a vaguely humanoid figure. he seemed so lonely and upset. he's scared of being forgotten by us and that made me so sad. i adore him, and he's grown a lot since we first met. i gave him a hug when we went into his dream sequence. i hope he knows i will never forget him. his dream was sweet. he just wants to save people and hang out with us still. i think he'll go far, and i would love to be there for him still when all of this is over.c (the rest of the pages with entry 102 are torn out) when i saw milo in the old house again just being his happy lovely self i felt miserable and happy at the same time. i love him so much, and i knew i missed him already but seeing him again just made me feel so much love for him all over again. it just makes me miss him more. it's hard not to cry thinking about what i've done to him. i wish he could come back. ayce's was hard to watch. i witnessed myrkul force ayce to choose between killing me and quri. ayce cried as he couldn't make up his mind, and then i watched as i fell into a void. i felt sick and i wanted to puke. i thought ayce found out about me. i thought he knew that i was using him for necromancy, but when i asked him about it, he told me that he thought i killed him with quri. i... personally don't have any reason to ever kill him so that was a bit sickening to think of. i dont ever want to kill anyone. i dont even have anyone i hate enough to want to murder. the only person i hate enough to want to kill is me. i know based on what i said before i guess it might have seemed that bad; but haha... i would never ever want to do that. putting people down at hospital was rough. god, putting ms winters down was rough and she was already dead. i love him, but it's probably better if we end the relationship and just stay as friends? he's already witnessed me still loving milo, and he thinks i murdered him... i'll try to clear up his misunderstanding, but it'll be hard to without giving more of myself away. this relationship has so many problems. entry 103 a new discovery. the world isn't flat? the god's are using their powers to “lock off” the rest of the world. apparently sanctuary is only a small part of the world. that was a really weird discovery to find out? it's kind of hard to believe, but at the same time, not. apparently they keys we've been collecting hold the respective power of the gods, and they're used to “open” the gateway. i have no idea what that means. apparently beshaba wants to use our keys to do exactly that. and also they can kill the god's? entry 112 when we came back to lunarden we discovered that delilah and allen were kidnapped by atlas’ syndicate. i knew atlas was trouble. i hate having to associate with him. we’re going to save them yet it makes me nervous. entry 114 i feel like i almost died in there. we saved the others and no one was hurt though. we’re going to trip back to lunarden and then travel through the travel gates back to origin to try avoid people. allen mentioned something about strange readings. i have a feeling i know what it is. i’m going to ask lathandar questions. entry 115 nvm we encountered leera. this group genuinely scares me. I’m travelling with people who are down with murder. i should seperate. she uncovered my posters to them and i want to die. she also mentioned the last key at a ball. i need to bounce. lathandar also confirmed my suspicions last night. entry 116 fox left before i could. i feel bad. like maybe it was my fault. i miss him. we have to continue though. entry 117 its so hard to find a bag of holding. i just want to have this spirit stone around without having it in the open. entry 118 we’re in origin now and delilah let me rent out her bag of holding. an absolute kind soul. we bought tickets to the ball. so expensive. i wish i didnt do that. entry 123 i’ve done so much in preperation of whats to come. Soon. i hope it works. i’m going to travel to solardome and investigate those readings. entry 124 suspicions

confirmed. miss winters is alive. she captured my biological father. a strange way to meet him. i cant see him as my father. i told her about the key, and we’re going to rearrange our circle. we’ll still use the spirit stones, just as a backup. i’m scared. i’m terrified. i dont know if it will work and i dont know what will happen if it does. i know the gods will be mad but i’ll deal with the consequences when it happens. i’m sure i won’t be a champion anymore. we’re doing this on friday evening, which means i’m no longer attending the gala. they don’t need my assistance anyway.

[igotanaddixon]

Fallen Stars (Thorin x OC)

A/N: Hi everyone! Hi hope that you will like this Chapter of Fallen Stars! I can’t believe that I’m reaching the end of the first movie!! I really can’t believe it! 

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x OC (Elentári)

Forever taglist: @weirdnewbie @villainlove @fizzy-custard @fictionalquintessence-deactivat @ealasaid @xalexandriaxk @maidenadventure @sdavid09 @lainternettuale @deepestfirefun @shewalksinanotherworld @fangirl570 @tschrist1 @babybarrie @fandomgalcentral @j25m18c24 @bbcrazypraise @tenthousandcolors @sesshomaru-lover

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 

Chapter 9 --> Current read 

Chapter 10 

Chapter 9: We all hate goodbyes

 “Thorin, wait!” Elen shouted as she tried to catch up but the dwarf was already pacing angrily at the end of the hallway. “Please, Thorin!” She called out but a strangled groan of pain left her lips.

The elleth brought her left hand to her abdomen, the wounds from the orcs’ arrows were still painful. Elen leaned against the wall and she tried to breathe in order to soothe the pain away. Her quiet groan caught Thorin’s attention and he turned around after a while, feeling even more angry as he saw the poor elleth in pain. Thorin rushed back in her direction and stopped before her.

“Elen…” He breathed out, reaching his right hand to cup her cheek. The elleth jumped at the sudden touch and opened her eyes. “Are you alright?” Thorin asked, his eyes looking scared and worried.

“Yes, don’t worry. It’s just a bit sensitive that’s all.” She said, a soft smile appearing on her lips as she relished in the feeling of his warm skin on hers. Thorin’s eyes observed her for a while, as if he was trying to see if she was telling the truth or no.

“You don’t know how sorry I am. You are in pain because of me.” Thorin whispered, his eyes turning dark with guilt. Elen shook her head and softly took hold of his hands.

“Thorin, none of this is your fault. I acted on my own will, you know it.” The dwarf king looked down and the elleth sighed, one of her hand slowly moving to cup his cheek. Thorin’s eyes shot up at the contact of her skin on his beard. Little shock of electricity ran down his spine as he felt the tip of her fingers caress his cheek. Elen had to try hard not to blush, she knew how important hair and beards were to dwarves but she simply couldn’t help it. Little flashes of their almost kiss by the fountain came back in her mind and her heart started to beat fast and hard against her chest.

“Elen…” Thorin breathed out, his voice hoarse and filled with love. Elen blinked several times as Thorin’s gaze shifted down once again. “Lord Elrond is right… Who knows what could happen if we reach the mountain. I might not resist the Dragon Sickness and become like my grandfather. I might hurt you or the others…” He whispered, his voice breaking at the end. Elen observed his face in awe, she never thought that he would let her see that vulnerable side of him.

“No. You shouldn’t listen to what Lord Elrond said.” Elen answered, her eyes full of determination. “You are not your grandfather, Thorin. I know that the Dragon Sickness is haunting you, day and night but I know that you are stronger than that.” The elleth stepped closer to the dwarf, her hand tilting his face up. “You are stronger than your grandfather. You won’t lose yourself.”

“How can you be so sure?” Thorin asked, frowning at the unexpected high esteem Elen had of him.

“Because I will be there to help you and keep you in check. I have faith in you, Thorin Oakenshield.” She answered with a playful grin. Thorin observed her for a while before chuckling to himself. “You will be an amazing King and I’m proud to be a member of your company.”

“Why are you so kind to me, princess? I do not deserve your kindness.” Thorin shook his head in disbelief.

“You do. You recognized your faults, Thorin. You asked for my forgiveness and I gave it to you because I know that deep down you are a good person.” Elen blushed as Thorin smiled warmly at her words.

“I am lucky to have you by my side on this quest, my lady.” Thorin said as he gently took one of her hands off his cheek and brought it to his lips. He laid a warm kiss on her knuckles then looked up at her. Elen’s heart was beating hard once again against her chest and she prayed that he couldn’t hear it.

“I have to admit that I’m very happy that you finally accepted me in the company.” Elen said awkwardly, chuckling and trying to hide her blush.

Thorin smiled at her then stared at her exposed shoulder, her skin looked smooth and soft but what caught his attention was the angry red scar she got from the orc’s arrow. Thorin’s hand reached up to run the tip of his calloused fingers down her shoulder blade, the skin cold and soft. Then he circled the tips of his fingers around the scar, his eyes fogged by an emotion Elen couldn’t recognize. The elleth bit her lips, trying to stay calm as his touch set her body on fire. She wanted him to kiss her, to love her but that same thought terrified her. She was immortal and Thorin was mortal, he was a dwarf and she was an elf… Could their love be possible? Did he even really love her? Elen was about to pull away when Thorin spoke once again.

“I should escort you to your chambers, so you can pack then have some sleep before we leave.” His hand fell back to his side and he looked into her eyes.

“Yes… Yes, that sounds perfect.” Elen answered, not really knowing how to behave around him anymore.

His presence was enough to make her mind stop and her heart race in her chest. She knew how she felt toward the dwarf king but she was afraid at the same time. She had never fallen in love before. Thorin nodded his head and Elen was about to move when he did something unexpected. Thorin’s right hand ran down her arm to reach her own hand then he linked his fingers though hers and held her hand tightly in his. The elleth’s cheeks were burning red but the dwarf didn’t seem to notice.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?” Thorin asked, almost smirking at her. Elen looked down and could only nod her head at him, not trusting her voice. Thorin nodded back then started to walk down the hall with her, her hand secured in his warm hold.

Elen smiled, loving every single second of this. His warmth spread though her hand and even reached her forearm. The elleth loved his warmth, it was like he was his own sun. Thorin didn’t need someone to keep him warm, he was strong and independent but yet Elen couldn’t help but feel like she was his life line, his safety net, his only protection to keep his mind sane. They walked through the hallways, the light was dim around them and the moon lit up their path. Thorin’s hand did not let go of hers, not even for a second and even when they reached Elen’s door. The elleth closed her eyes for a second then looked up at Thorin with a gentle smile.

“I’ll have to leave Estel again…” She whispered, guilt gripping her heart. Thorin sighed and tugged on her hand to pulled her close.

“I know how hard it is to leave someone you love behind. I had to leave my little sister and I took her sons away with me. Remember this…” Thorin said, his voice deep and filled with love. He cupped Elen’s cheek and looked deeply into her eyes. “Contract or no, you are free to stay. It is your choice and even if I’d love to keep you by my side for as long as I can, I cannot force you to come with us.”

Elen’s eyes widen, Thorin’s words were a surprise. She had signed the contract so she was bound to the company, Thorin could ask her to stay but he was willing to give her the choice. Then… Thorin also admitted that he wanted her to stay with him. Elen was confused but her heart spoke for her.

“I will not stay behind. I cannot leave you and the others. I care for… I care for all of you way too much to leave you in the wild, to face legions of Orcs and a dragon on your own.” Elen breathed out, entranced by the reflections of the moon in Thorin’s eyes. “I won’t leave you…” The elleth whispered, ashamed of her confession.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” Thorin whispered back. The dwarf slowly raised his hand up to her face, his fingers touching the tip of her hair by her jaw. His fingers ran through the silky silver-blond locks, making Elen close her eyes. Then with this last gesture of love, Thorin cleared his throat and took a step back. “You should try and get some rest. We will leave before dawn.”

Thorin looked at Elen one last time before bowing and take his leave. He left so suddenly that Elen didn’t have the time to react or to say anything. She was left alone in the cold hallway before her bedroom, confused and lost in the whirlwind of her feelings for the dwarf King.

  “Were you going to leave without speaking with your mother?” A voice said clear as water in Elentári’s mind. The elleth stopped her actions and sighed.

“No, mother, it wasn’t my intention. Unfortunately, I already have to leave.” Elen answered in her head.

“Hm…” Galadriel’s voice was weirdly playful and Elen frowned.

“What is it, mother?” Elen asked as she kept running her fingers through Estel’s brown locks. The child was still sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his lips.

“I can feel it in your heart, my dear. The love… for Thorin Oakenshield.” Galadriel said almost playfully.

“I do not know what you are talking about…” Elen tried to deny but a light chuckle from her mother made her blush.

“You cannot lie to me, child.” The elf lady said and Elen smiled.

“I know.”

“You are right to help him. However, I fear for your safety. I know what you are capable of to save him.” Galadriel’s voice was now filled with worry but Elen shook her head.

“I would give my life for him.” Elen admitted.

“That is what I fear.” Her mother answered.

“You do not have to worry, mother. I will not die during this quest.” Elen said but her mother did not answer right away. She heard a sigh in her head then a warm feeling spread through her body.

“I wish you safety and achievement in your quest, my dear.” Galadriel said after a while.

“Thank you, mother.” Elen closed her eyes as she felt her mother slipped away from her mind but she heard one last sentence before Galadriel’s presence vanished completely.

“Be careful, Elentári.”

Elen smiled softly and bent down to kiss Estel’s forehead.

“I will, mother.” She said then stroked the small child’s hair one last time. “Goodbye Aragorn.”

The elleth got up quietly and grabbed her bag and weapons at the entrance of the room then exited it silently. She looked at the child with a sad smile then closed the door and vanished in the hallway.

Galadriel smiled as she felt her daughter made her way out of the city with the company. She knew what could happen to her but she also knew that it was her destiny to follow Thorin Oakenshield. Elentári’s live wasn’t complete but with the love of the dwarf king, Galadriel knew that she might finally find happiness.

“Gandalf, for four hundred years, we have lived in peace. A hard­won, watchful peace.” Galadriel heard Elrond say. She turned around and watched the men talk. She was indeed agreeing with Gandalf about the necromancer, the issue had to be dealt with.

“Are we? Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road.” Gandalf argued.

“Hardly a prelude to war.” Elrond answered, raising an eyebrow at the Grey Wizard.

“Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists.” Saruman added, giving Gandalf a look that made the lady elf sigh to herself.

“Let him speak.” Galadriel said as she walked behind Gandalf, Elrond and Saruman staying quiet after hearing her voice. Gandalf looked at Galadriel with thankful eyes before trying to explain himself.

“There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful. We can remain blind, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it ‘Mirkwood’. And they say...”

“Well, don’t stop now. Tell us about the woodsmen say.” Saruman pressed, his eyebrows raised in impatience.

“They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who can summon the dead.” Gandalf explained, his voice dark with worry.

“That’s absurd. No such power exists in the world. This...Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic.” Saruman almost looked like he was about to laugh at Gandalf for what he was implying.

“And so I thought too. But, Radagast has seen…” The Grey Wizard tried to reason but Saruman cut him yet once again.

“Radagast? Do not speak to me about Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow.” His disdain for the poor gentle brown wizard evident as he spoke.

“Well, he’s odd, I grant you. He lives a solitary life.” Gandalf tried to defend his fellow wizard but Saruman’s voice spoke up before he could say anything else.

“It’s not that. It’s his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They’ve addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I warned him, it is unbefitting of the Istari to be wander in the woods...” Saruman’s voice faded away as Galadriel focused on Gandalf, and spoke to him in his mind. The elf lady felt something dark around them and knew that Gandalf had a proof to show.

“You carry something. It came to you from Radagast. He found it in Dol Guldur.” She said, Gandalf straightening his back as he heard her voice.

“Yes.” He answered.

“Show me.” Galadriel asked, her eyes barely widening in curiosity.

Gandalf lifted Radagast’s package, which he had in his lap, and placed it on the table. It let out a dull thud as it hit the stone table and the room suddenly filled with a powerful darkness.

“…or I’d think I was talking to myself…” Saruman finished his lecture, looking at the package with a frown.

“What is that?” Elrond asked as he advanced toward the table.

“A relic of Mordor.” Galadriel stated and Elrond, who was reaching out to unwrap the package, drew his hand back. He then reached for it again and opened it, revealing the sword Radagast took from the spirit in Dol Guldur. The White Council members looked upon it in shock.

“A Morgul blade.” Elrond finally broke the silence.

“Made for the Witch­king of Angmar, and… buried with him.” Galadriel said in confusion. “When Angmar fell, men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High­Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried them, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light.”

“This is not possible. A powerful spell lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened.” Elrond seemed to doubt the provenance of the sword but deep down he knew what was happening.

“What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar’s grave?” Saruman asked, looking up at Gandalf.

“I have none.” The Grey Wizard admitted.

“Because there is none.” Saruman scowled. “Let us examine what we know. A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found. And a human sorcerer, who calls himself the Necromancer, has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It’s not so very much, after all. The question of this dwarvish company, however, troubles me deeply. I’m not convinced, Gandalf; I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they’d come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment. I do not pretend to understand your reasons for raising their hopes…”

Saruman’s voice faded away as Galadriel again focused on Gandalf. She spoke to him telepathically as she felt the presence of her daughter vanish from the city entirely.

“They are leaving.” She stated, looking at Gandalf who slowly turned his gaze to look at her.

“Yes.”

“You knew.” Galadriel looked at her friend, knowing that this was his plan all along.

“…I am afraid there is nothing else for it.” Saruman said, not aware that no one was really listening to him.

Gandalf nodded sheepishly and Galadriel smiled slightly. A step is heard near the council’s room, and they all turned around as Lindir came up and bowed.

“My Lord Elrond; the dwarves, they’ve gone.”

  Elen sighed as she followed the dwarves, hiking along the path away from Rivendell. It was hard for her to leave her little cousin behind and she did not have the time to say goodbye to Lord Elrond or Arwen. She walked next to Bilbo who seemed sad to leave the elven city. Elen smiled down at him and gently laid her hand on the hobbit’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry Bilbo, this is not the last time you see Rivendell in your life.” The elleth said and Bilbo looked up at her.

“Who knows… We might never come back.”

“We will Bilbo. I make you the promise.” Elen’s smile transformed into a grin as she saw her friend smiling up at her.

“Be on your guard; we’re about to step over the edge of the Wild. Balin, you know these paths; lead on.” Thorin’s voice say from the front of the company.

“Aye.” Balin answered, taking the lead.

Bilbo stopped and turned around to look back at Rivendell, longingly. Elen stopped with him and looked at the city then squeezed the hobbit’s shoulder in understanding but Thorin’s voice made her tear her gaze away from the landscape.

“Master Baggins, Miss Elentári, I suggest you two keep up.” Thorin’s gaze was piercing through Elen, his eyes dark as he nodded his head in the direction of the company.

Elen was the first to walk away then Bilbo finally moved. Elen reached Thorin’s position quickly and the dwarf started to walk next to her.

“I did not have the time to say my goodbyes to my uncle and my cousin.” Elen stated, looking at Thorin to see that he was already observing her. “What?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re dressed like an elf.” Thorin stated, his voice lacking emotions. Elen rolled her eyes and looked down at her new outfit.

“Well… Maybe because I am an elf, master dwarf.” Elen told him teasingly, earning a faint smirk from the grumpy leader.

“Only half-elf.” Thorin said, making her roll her eyes once again. “And you barely act like one anyway.” The dwarf added, grumbling to himself. Elen chuckled and nodded her head.

“I can’t disagree with that.” She said, knowing that she was never behaving like an elf maiden.

“Did you sleep well?” Thorin asked, his concern and attempt to start a conversation with Elen confusing her greatly.

“Not really.” Elen admitted. “I had too many things on my mind.” Thorin nodded in understanding but little did he know that he was one of the “things” that were on the poor elleth’s mind last night, as she had haunted his dreams as well.

Thorin wanted to hold her hand again, he wanted to kiss her, make her his, court her and make her his Queen but dwarves are stubborn and he would never admit all of this before seeing this quest accomplished. He couldn’t let himself get distracted, it happened once at the fountain. Thorin almost kissed her, he almost let his desire take over and it scared him. Everything could happen to the elleth, she could vanish from his life and Thorin would be left alone. He couldn’t live with the heartbreak.

As Elen and Thorin kept talking to each other, Fili and Kili observed them with knowing smirks.

“Miss Elen and uncle seem to get along pretty well these days…” Fili said, looking at his brother with a mischievous smirk.

“Aye brother but they might still need a little push.” Kili answered, sharing his brother’s smirk. Dwalin and Bilbo looked at them in disagreement, Bilbo only shaking his head but Dwalin groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you dare trying anything, lads.” Fili and Kili looked back at Dwalin with frightened eyes. “You can’t mess with love.” Dwalin said seriously, his eyes dark as he glared at the two brothers.

Bilbo smiled and chuckled to himself as he saw Fili and Kili swallow hard and turn away. Bilbo’s eyes trailed up to watch Elen and Thorin, even Dwalin could see that they were in love. However, they didn’t seem to see it. Bilbo smiled as he saw Elen laugh at something Thorin had said, he was happy for her. She deserved to be loved, he only hopped that they will be able to see past their own stubbornness and admit their love for each other.

  Gandalf and Galadriel were the only ones remaining in the pavilion. Their silhouettes watching the sun rising.

“I fear for Elentári.” Galadriel said, observing the mountains from far away. “I felt her pain. Elrond told me how injured he found her.”

“Yes, she took arrows for Thorin and his nephew.” Gandalf told her, playing with the sleeves of his robe. “She is… reckless.”

“She is in love.” Galadriel corrected, making Gandalf look at her with a knowing smile.

“I think she is not the only one in love.” The wizard said and Galadriel hummed.

“Thorin Oakenshield is stubborn. He might break her heart before admitting his love for an elf.”

“But she is not an elf.” Gandalf said and Galadriel sighed.

“She starts to have doubts about her true nature. I can feel it.”

“I know.” Gandalf nodded, looking back at the horizon. Galadriel staid quiet for a while, lost in her thoughts then she turned around.

“You will follow them?” Galadriel asked, looking at Gandalf.

“Yes.” The wizard answered, nodding his head.

“You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield. My daughter is willing to help the dwarves once again.” Galadriel told him. “But I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. The riddle of the Morgul blade must be answered. Something moves in the shadows, unseen, hidden from our sight. It will not show itself, not yet. But every day it grows in strength. You must be careful.”

“Yes.” Gandalf answered then turned and started walking away. When he had gone a short distance, Galadriel spoke again.

“Mithrandir? Why the Halfling?” Galadriel asked, turning around to look at Gandalf. Her silhouette glowing in the sunlight.

“I don’t know.” Gandalf admitted, turning his back to the elf lady as he thought. “Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I’ve found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it is because I am afraid, and he gives me courage.” Galadriel suddenly appeared in front of Gandalf, and she took his old, weary hands in hers.

“Do not be afraid, Mithrandir.” Galadriel said, a soft smile appearing on her lips. “You are not alone.” Galadriel tucked a loose strand of Gandalf’s hair back.

“Ae boe i le eliathon, im tulithon (If you should ever need my help, I will come).” Gandalf bowed his head, and Galadriel gently moved her hands away from his. Gandalf looked up to look one last time at the beautiful lady but Galadriel had disappeared.

  The Dwarves, Bilbo and Elen were hiking through the wilderness of Middle­earth, over ranges, mountains, and plains. The day was long and Elen’s wounds were still hurting but she tried her best to hide it. Thorin left her side when they reached the plains, needing to discuss with Balin in the front and Elen fell back to the back of the group with Bilbo and the Durin brothers. They talked about Rivendell and about how Kili couldn’t make the difference between male and female elves. Elen laughed at the poor young dwarf, his cheeks were flushed as he admitted that she was the only elf maiden who looked like a real woman in his eyes. After hours of walking, they started to cross the Misty Mountains and the sky turned black. Elen sighed as she could see the storm in the air as they followed the path; the trail was narrow and dangerous, with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other. Soon the storm began. It was a fierce storm, with lightning and rain all around. Elen was now right behind Thorin at the front of the group, trying to keep her balance through the storm.

“Hold on!” Thorin shouted to the company. Elen screamed as a strong gust of wind pushed her forward but Thorin strong arms wrapped around her and kept her close to his chest, holding her strongly.

As Bilbo walked, the stone beneath his feet gave away, and he started falling into the chasm. Dwalin managed to pull him back in time, pushing against his chest. The poor hobbit looked scared and lost in the middle of the storm.

“We must find shelter!” Thorin screamed, holding Elen with one arm.

“We do!” The elleth shouted, feeling suddenly angry at everything around her. She told them they should have stopped before the Misty Mountains but once again Thorin did not listen to her.

“Watch out!” Dwalin suddenly shouted and Elen wiped her head to look at him through the pouring rain. The dwarves looked up and saw a massive boulder hurtling through the air; it hit the mountainside above them, causing rocks to fall all around them as they pressed themselves against the mountain. Elen shrieked as Thorin pressed her against the mountainside and protected her with his own body.

“This is no thunderstorm; it’s a thunder battle! Look!” Balin shouted pointing at the mountain in front of them. Elen gasped as a stone giant reared up from a nearby mountain; it ripped off a massive boulder from the top of the mountain.

“Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; Stone Giants!” Bofur shouted, stepping forward and too close from the edge of the cliff.

“Bofur! No!” Elen shouted.

“Take cover: you’ll fall!” Thorin screamed as well as the wind pulled them against the mountain.

“What’s happening?” Kili asked, trying to see through the rain.

The stone giant before them threw the boulder far in the air; another one appeared from behind the Company, but he was hit in the head. The dwarves yelled at each other to brace and hold on, and the rocks beneath their feet began to give way from all the vibrations and from the impact of the falling rocks.

“Elen, hold on to me.” Thorin said in her ear. Elen gripped his fur coat as much as she could and tried to control her breathing.

The ground between some of the Company members split; part of the group was now on one side, part on the other.

"Kili! Grab my hand! Ki..." Fili screamed as he reached for his brother’s hand but the path broke just between them. The two brothers looked at each other in fear as they watched the void between them getting bigger and bigger.

As the two stone giants fought with their fists, the dwarves held on tight as they are flung around. One of the groups managed to jump to a different spot. This group was Thorin and Elen’s one, the dwarf pulled Elen forward with him and screamed to the others to jump and follow them. A third stone giant appeared, and it threw a boulder at the head of one of the first two. Elen gasped as she looked up to the stone giant to see him fall over; as the first group watched the second one move rapidly on the stone giant’s leg. Elen looked at Thorin as she saw the giant fall and its leg coming down to smash against the mountainside. It appeared to the entire group on Elen side that the other group of the Company had been smashed to bits. The hurt stone giant lost its footing and fell down the chasm. Elen’s eyes widen in shock, her tears mixing with the rain pouring down her cheeks.

“No! No! Kili!” Thorin shouted, his voice breaking with pain. The group rushed to the spot where the others appeared to have been crushed, Thorin being the first one to rush toward them, Elen right behind him. Thorin suddenly stopped and the elleth heard him sigh in relief.

“We’re all right! We’re alive!” Elen heard Balin shout and her heart calmed down in her chest. Everyone was fine, a bit shaken and scared but everyone was fine. Elen tried to calm down until she heard Bofur’s voice.

“Where’s Bilbo? Where’s the Hobbit?” Bofur asked, confused and distressed.

“There!” Ori exclaimed pointing at the poor hobbit. Elen turned around and shouted Bilbo’s name, trying to get to him but Fili stopped her.

“Get him!” Dwalin shouted as they noticed Bilbo hanging onto the edge of the cliff with just his fingertips.

Ori jumped onto the ground and tried to grab Bilbo’s arm, but Bilbo slipped and fell another few feet before he caught another handhold. Elen freed herself from Fili’s arms and screamed the Hobbit’s name again as she reached the edge of the cliff. As the dwarves and Elen tried to pull Bilbo up unsuccessfully, Thorin suddenly swung down on the cliff next to Bilbo and boosted him up, where the others finally pulled him to safety. Elen watched in awe as the dwarf helped her hobbit friend but suddenly Thorin also lost his grip and began falling, Elen only had the time to scream and pushed her body over the edge to catch him. Dwalin caught him at the same time and, with much effort, they both pull their leader back up.

Elen couldn’t help but throw herself at Thorin as he got up and tried to catch his breath. She wrapped her arms around his chest and tried to hide her sobs.

“Don’t ever do that again!” She screamed, fear evident in her eyes. Thorin stared at her in confusion but he wrapped his arms around her waist anyway. Elen was shaking against his chest, the way she was clinging to him made a suffocating wave of emotion wash over Thorin’s body, making him feel weak in the knees.

“I thought we’d lost our burglar.” Dwalin suddenly said, bringing the leader out of his daze. Thorin pulled away from Elen and took a deep breath, anger boiling in his veins.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” He hissed making everyone look uncomfortable and Elen’s jaw dropped.

“Are you kidding me?!” She shouted. “Thorin, you can’t be serious! This is not Bilbo’s fault, it could have happened to anybody!” Elen tried to argue but Thorin turned his back and called for Dwalin.

“Dwalin!” He shouted, as he entered a cave near the mountainside. Elen was fuming, her fists clenched at her side. Why was he always so infuriating?  

“Miss Elen, please. It’s alright.” Bilbo’s gentle voice tried to convince her but Elen shook her head and advanced behind Thorin and Dwalin.

“Lass!” Bofur called after her but she ignored the rest of the company.

“It looks safe enough.” Elen heard Dwalin say as he entered the cave with Thorin.

“Search to the back; caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied.” Thorin ordered and Dwalin searched the cave with a torch. Elen suddenly appeared into the cave and stopped in front of Thorin.

“What is your problem?” She asked in a hushed tone.

“Pardon me?” Thorin asked with a raised eyebrow, not knowing why she was angry at him.

“Hm… No, I’m not the one you should apologize to.” Elen sassily answered, putting her right hand on her hip. Thorin raised an eyebrow at her but couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked when she was angry. Her eyes glowed with determination, her small button nose twitched every time she tried to stay calm but couldn’t contain her anger and she bit her lips over and over. Thorin could feel the tension in the air as he watched her.

“You had no right to talk to him like that! Bilbo is always trying to do his best and you crush him every time something happens! I get that you were scared but taking your anger out on him wont help!”

“I wasn’t scared.” Thorin answered, making Elen groan in exasperation.

“Indeed! This is the only thing that bugs you in my lecture! You were afraid! Everyone was!” She hissed quietly but Thorin didn’t answer, he simply looked at her. His face showing no emotion. Elen stared back and was about to say something but the others entered the cave and Dwalin came back from the back of the cave.  

“There’s nothing here.” He informed Thorin as Gloin dropped a bundle of wood on the floor and rubbed his hands together.

“Right then! Let’s get a fire started.” Gloin merrily said, getting ready to form the fire.

“No, No fires, not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light.” Thorin objected as he finally dropped his eyes from the elleth and moved past her.

“We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan.” Balin informed the leader.

“Plans change.” Thorin answered, making Elen groan and roll her eyes at him again. “Bofur, take the first watch.”

Bofur looked not too pleased with that but said nothing as he nodded his head. Elen threw her hands in the air and tried to find a place to sleep. She was angry, annoyed and extremely cold. The poor elleth wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her biceps with the palm of her hands, trying to warm herself up but in vain. She sighed as she found a covered spot close to the rock wall and let herself slide down to sat on the dusty ground. Her teeth chattered and her body shivered as the cold rain dropped from her hair onto her skin.

“By Eru!” She hissed. “I’m going to freeze to death!” The elleth tried to pull her blanket out of her bag but the material was soaked as well. Elen sighed and let the blanket drop to the ground on exasperation.

“Do you need some help, my lady?” She heard a deep baritone voice say from before her. She looked up to be met with Thorin’s deep blue eyes.

Elen scoffed and turned her head away but as a new wave of cold ran down her skin she looked back up at Thorin and nodded her head. Thorin chuckled and walked to sat next to her on the ground. He pulled his bedroll out of his bag first, laying it on the ground then sat on it before extending his arms for Elen.

“Come here.” He whispered and Elen slowly shuffled to sat next to him on the bedroll. “Lay down, we have to sleep.” Thorin said as he lied down next to her.

Elen blushed and wondered where she could actually put her head as Thorin’s arms was extended where she should be. Thorin grabbed her elbow and slowly dragged her down so her head was laying on the junction of his bicep and his shoulder, then his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against his chest. Elen gasped softly and put her right hand just above his heart.

“You are so warm…” Elen breathed, all trace of anger now gone from her heart. His heart hammered against his chest strongly and steadily. The rhythm was strong and weirdly made her feel safe.

“All dwarves are.” Thorin mumbled as he sifted slightly to get comfortable.

“Hm… I like to think that’s a Thorin thing.” Elen breathed out, sleep slowly taking over.

Thorin looked down at her in adoration as she finally relaxed against him, letting his warmth and the beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

As much as he tried not to, Thorin knew that he was in love with the elleth. The dwarf king closed his eyes after tracing each features of her face, his heart swelling with love and an ephemeral happiness.

Hi guys! Tell me whatyou think, I love to have feedbacks :) 

xxx Lisy 

[djinmer4]

Theft of the Arkenstone (Part 2 of 2)

T.A. 2989

The caravan arrived at the break of dawn about a hundred stong.  “Got another elf with ya, Carleton?” joked the guards of Dale.

“Laugh it up, Nielson.  It’s easier to travel in the dark with elves.  No need to worry about bandits, and it’s easier to keep moving in the cold, than it is when the sun’s out.”

“It’s almost fall!”

“Tell that to the desert.”  The caravaneer handed over a list to the guards.  “Half of the party are guests this time.  About twenty dwarves from the Iron Hills, here on invitation from King Dain for some sort of work to be done.  Five families, including a blacksmith and a cooper, seeking to emigrate to Dale.  Also one not on the list.”  He looked over his shoulder, then waved over one of the men.  “This is Gonfin of . . . “

“Most recently of Morwe’s court.”  What the guards had taken for a tall Man was actually an Elf, with long black hair braided behind his back, and light, almost shining eyes.  The Elf was dressed a bit differently the Silvan who dwelt in Lasgalen and Dale.  He wore a ragged grey cloak, clearly suffering from the trials of crossing the desert, covered in sand and dust.  Oddly, he bore both a sword and a harp.

“We met up just before we reached the Iron Hills.  Poor bugger’s horse had just up and died on him.”

The Elf nodded.  “My pack horse was fine, but I was carrying a load of instruments for my work.  I was in the middle of deciding what I could discard when Master Carleton agreed to let me travel with his train.”

“Best singer I’ve ever heard,” boasted the Man.  “And not half-bad with that blade of his.  Saved my life a couple of times when we got ambushed on the trail.”

“Considering I would have been next had I not intervened, that’s hardly charity on my part.”  The two continued to joke around while the guards finished checking out the rest of the caravan.  Nielson stepped back and gestured to Feren, who was on shift as the Elvish portion.  “He check out?” grunted the Dalesman.

“Those have to be some of the finest instruments I’ve ever seen,” declared the Elf.  “If he can play them or make them, seems good enough.”

“Never heard of Morwe.”

“Tatyarin High King.  Occasionally we see some explorers or scholars from his court, but the last time was from before the Dragon came.”  Feren waved the last of the caravan into Dale.  “If he’d said Nurwe I’d have been a bit more suspicious, but the Tatyarin are just as knowledge-hungry as their Western cousins.”  The Sinda turned back to the Tatya.  “Your a bit tall and bright-eyed for a Tatya; got any Noldo blood?”

“A bit,” the Elf shrugged, not at all offended.  “Grandfather was a part of the court at Tirion, but he’s been dead since the First Age.”

Feren nodded, then gave a more formal bow of greeting.  “The Cat and the Moon, the tavern on the main square is the best for attracting a large audience.  Shall we see you perform there?”

A flashing smile, and long-fingered hands rubbed over a topaz and gold cloak pin.  “Probably.  The court of Morwe only recently heard about the death of Smaug.  I’m hoping to trade; songs and stories from the East for those about the death of the Dragon.”

Nielson shook his head.  “Only an Elf would call something that happened half a century ago recent.  There’s plenty of songs and stories told in the taverns, but if you want to talk to some people who were actually there, you’re going to need to talk with the Dwarves.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Yea, say what you want about archery.  But it was Bard’s arrow that felled Smaug when nothing else would work.”  Gloin finished talking then took a drink of ale.

Gonfin had traded knowledge of Eastern instrument making techniques for the right to wander the halls of Erebor and to interview the remaining Dwarves of Thorin’s company (and Dain himself as well).  They’d asked about his sword, but alas, that had been a gift, and Gonfin was uncertain on the techniques used in its creation.  But having an Elf who was humble enough to ask the Dwarves about anything and be willing to trade for it was a treat, given the haughty Silvan and Sindar that lived in Lasgalen.

“And that was the end of it?”  Gonfin was almost continually scribbling notes since the conversation had started.

“No.  The Dragon had destroyed Lake-town.  The Elves and Men showed up to negotiate reparations.  That went on for a while, then the orcs and Dain showed up and the Battle of the Five Armies happened?”

The Elf made a show of counting on his fingers.  “Elves, Men, Dwarves and Orcs.  Who was the fifth army?”

“Ach, lad, let’s save that till tomorrow, shall we?”  Gloin noted the Elf didn’t even flinch at being called a lad, and his opinion of him rose.  “Council’s this afternoon, and I’ve got to attend.  I’ll drop you off with Bombur now, and you can pester him with questions.  He can even give you some lunch.  Skinny thing like you needs all the meat he can get.”

The Elf gathered up his notes, humming some weird tune as he did.  “Just one last question.”  Gloin nodded.  “The negotiations, I heard a bit about them from the Men of Dale.  Something about a jewel?”

“The Arkenstone, the King’s Jewel.  Beautiful, shines like silver in firelight, or like snow under starlight.” Gloin cupped his hands to show the Elf how big it was.  “Our burglar got it out to them when it looked like Thorin wasn’t going to keep his word to the Men of Lake-town.  They returned it after the Battle.”

“I see.”  The Elf finished stuffing his papers into a small satchel, then stood up (and almost immediately had to bow down again to get through the door.)  “Lead the way, Lord Gloin.”

“Oh yes, I’ve always felt terrible about what happened to the lads.  Kili was barely in his eighties when the Battle happened.”  Dori had agreed to take some time to help Gonfin, under the condition that the Elf help him with doing the inventory of his store.  They’d also agreed to sell some of the instruments the Elf had brought with him, the smaller ones that were more easily replaced.  Dori wasn’t sure anyone in Erebor would actually want Elf-made instruments, but it couldn’t hurt, and the Elf had been humble enough to earn a few friendly gestures.

“Eighty?  I’m not too familiar on mortal ages, but surely that’s not an adult for a dwarf.”  The Elf was currently hauling some wine out of the cellar to the front, but would stop every so often to make more notes.

“Kili was an adult, but only just.  Oh, the poor lads.  I always felt that either of them, Fili or Kili would have made a great King.  Not that Dain’s bad, but it would have been nice to see the Throne stay within the line.”

“Fili or Kili . . . but not Thorin?”  Now Dori looked embarrassed.  “Thorin wasn’t a bad King-in-Exile, but when we got here . . . he was showing signs of the gold-sickness, you understand?”

“Yes, some of the others have mentioned it.”

“If Thorin had been in charge . . . I’m not sure we would have as good relationships with the Men of Dale and the Elves of Mirkwood as we do now.  He was very prideful, and then he didn’t want to give a single coin to those poor men.”  The Dwarf shot a beady eye to the Elf.  “You won’t mention I said any of this, alright?”

“I’ll have to say something.  A lot of people have brought up the gold-sickness, it would be hard to leave out.  But I’ll keep what you said about Thorin being King private, if you’d like.”

“I’d be grateful.”

“Would it be possible to see their graves?  I understand all three Durins were buried together.”

“Entombed,” Dori corrected.  “And yes.  They are-”

“At the bottom of Erebor?”

“Heavens no.  That’s where all the mining is being done.  They’re close to the heart of the mountain, near the throne room.  I’ll ask Dwalin to show you tomorrow.”  He looked around and realized they were finished.  “You’ve done a good job helping me.  The least I can do is offer you some tea.”

“That’ll be great.”  Gonfin wiped some sweat off, and tugged his braid loose, only to start rebuilding it.  “If we have some time, I’ve heard you that you play the flute.  Would you mind playing for me as well?”

“Only if you return the favor.  Bombur’s children have been raving about your music ever since you spoke to him.”

“’Ere they are.  Mind you don’t damage anything.”  The room with the three mausoleums was quite roomy, and Gonfin was amazed he hadn’t had to stoop at all.  “This is amazing.”  He walked around, looking not only at the tombs, but the rest of the structure as well.  “These covers, there’s no joining at all.”

Dwalin nodded.  “Each sarcophagus was made from a single block of marble.  The lids were chiseled out first, with the effigies, then the rest of the block was hollowed out.”

“Strange, I thought the Arkenstone would be on top.”

“Nah, that’s in the tomb with Thorin.  A representation was carved as part of his effigy.”  The Elf continued to examine the late King of Erebor.  “Pardon my thoughts, but he looks almost Man-like.”

“Yea, Thorin was downright ugly for a Dwarf.  Had a heart like the Arkenstone though.”  If Dwalin shed a few tears, the Elf pretended not to notice.  Instead he stood in front of the graves and raised his voice in song.  The words were not ones that any Dwarf knew, but the sentiment was clear.

“That’s an Elvish mourning song.”

“Why, yes, it seemed appropriate.  I’m surprised you recognized it though.”  Dwalin gestured to Kili’s tomb.  “At the funeral, young Kili’s Elf sang something similar.  I recognized the emotions if not the words.”

“Indeed,” the Elf changed the subject.  “And where can I find young Kili’s Sinda friend.  It’s not the first time I’ve heard of her, but she seems nowhere here.  Has she gone West?”

“Ach, no, just bad timing on your part.  She’s part of the delegation to Dorwinion.  Tauriel will be back before the change of the new year.”

“Then I must be sure to remain at least that long.”

“Dwalin!  Furi!  Nice to see you again!”

“Gonfin!” By now the Elf had become a familiar site in Erebor, much like Tauriel herself.  “Surprised to see you.  Aren’t you going down the Celduin to Rhun tomorrow?”

“I am indeed.  But since I will not be the one guiding the boat, I thought it harmless to indulge a little for one last night.”  The Elf brandished a full skin.  “I thought I’d take the time to look around as well.  Who knows when I’ll be back here?”

“Fair enough.”  Dwalin was surprised when the skin was shoved into his hands.  “Uh . . . “

“A gift.  Besides, I think I’ve had enough.  Like you said, I don’t want to miss my boat tomorrow.”  With a wink the Elf pranced off, singing a melodious melody, but replacing the words with one of Dale’s raunchiest drinking ballads.  The two Dwarves watched him go.  “Mad as hatters.  All of them.” stated Furi decisively.

“True,” Dwalin took a swig then passed the skin to the other guard.  “Excellent taste in wine though.”

Maglor glared at the marble duplicate of Thorin.  This was to be his last day here, and he still hadn’t figured out how to get the Silmaril out of the tomb.  Between the wine he gave the guards, and the spells he’d been casting over the past months, he was guaranteed to be undisturbed until morning.  But the point was to get it out without anyone being the wiser.  A broken tomb was a huge sign that something was wrong.  “I give up, it will just have to be magic.”

With that, he raised his sword, then smote the cover of the sarcophagus.  Inside, the Dwarf had decayed into just hair and mail and bone.  The Silmaril, loosely clasped between skeletal fingers, brightened as it was picked up by the son of Feanor.  “Maedhros, you’ve given me so much trouble already.  Please be quiet.”  Immediately the stone dimmed, like a child chastened by it’s parents.  Maglor tucked it into his satchel.  For a second he hesitated over the sword, but in the end left it.  He was here for the Silmaril, not to reclaim Turakano’s lost property.  He then used the halberds of the guards to lever the two halves of the cover back into place.  He sung the stone back whole; there was a seam, but it was unlikely to be noticed unless someone was examining the cover closely.

He woke the guards on the way out with his singing.  It wasn’t the perfect crime, but he doubted anyone would notice his theft for years.

T.A. 2991

“In honor of the fiftieth anniversary of Smaug’s death, the Arkenstone shall be displayed for all to see.”  Dain declared.  Thranduil openly yawned, but Bain was appropriately solemn for the occasion.  With that statement, the King of Erebor gave the signal for the masons to start raising the lid on Thorin’s sarcophagus.

The block of marble was carefully hauled away.  Dain bowed the approached the tomb.  He reached in, then stopped.  “It’s not there.”

For a moment silence reigned.  “What?” asked Dain’s son, Thorin Stonehelm.

“The Arkenstone.  It’s not there.”  Dain pulled back, confusion written all over his face.  “Orcrist is there, but the Arkenstone is not.”

Thranduil came over to confirm Dain’s statement.  “Who would steal the Arkenstone but leave a sword of Gondolin?”

“This would be so much easier, Maedhros, if you were just a wee bit smaller.”  The Arkenstone flickered in sympathy.  Maglor sighed, the put down the tools and silver wire.  Instead, he raised his hand to his cloak pin.  The pin brightened under his touch until it glowed like sunlight.

“I think I’ll leave you with Elrond for a while.”

[kittenwritesstuff]

Against all odds

Fandom: The Lord of The Rings Pairing: Legolas x (human)reader Genres: mild angst, fluff Words:  1.981 Summary: Legolas introduces reader to his father, who does not approve of her. Yet, she gains his approval after one event - requested by Anonymous

Despite all your doubts and fears, you are feeling excited. An entrance to Mirkwood’s Palace is finally on the horizon, becoming bigger and bigger as you are nearing it. Your grip on the reins tightens as you glance at Legolas, who is visibly glad that you have finally arrived.

A small smile makes its way on your lips, curling them up when you recall how have you ended up here in the first place.

Firstly, joining the Fellowship to be, as you called it, a voice of common sense, knowing very well that men not always knew what to do.

Then, after Gandalf’s passing and the short break in Lotrlorien, you had eventually a chance to talk to Legolas properly, sharing stories by the fireplace as Gimli was smirking underneath his moustache at you and the elf.

And somewhere along the day, between battles, you had realized that you had become very fond of Legolas, to the point when you were ready to shield him with your own chest if it meant saving his life.

Funny enough, Legolas thought the same, which lead to an argument whilst the final battle was taking place. The two of you seemed to forget about it, oblivious to Aragorn’s yells and Gimli’s scoffing, and it was finished only when Legolas pressed his lips to yours in a messy, hot kiss, announcing later that you’d be the death of him, even more so if you wouldn’t resume fighting.

It wasn’t a difficult decision to made when he had asked you to come with him to Mirkwood. How could you leave his side after finally finding becoming so very close? After enduring so many dangers together your bond was stronger than you could imagine but it only made it more beautiful, more wholesome.

“What is it, my love?” Legolas’s voice reaches your ears and you hum in response, blinking a few times.

“You appear to be lost in your thoughts.”

“I’m just struck by your handsomeness, Legolas,” you say unabashed as a surprise appears on his face before turning into glee seconds later.

“You flatter me too much, Y/N. What if I get used to it?”    

“Do you want me to stop?” you taunt, quirking your brow up as Legolas grins.

“No, not really. And I do think that if I asked you to stop, you wouldn’t do it nonetheless.”

“That’s true. Does your father know that I am not an elf?” you change the topic, allowing your fears to take the best of you. You have been wondering about it since you have headed out, aware that you might not be approved of by King Thranduil.

“He’s aware of that, yes. But worry not, my love, he cannot change my mind. He cannot command my heart,” Legolas reaches out and strokes your hand tenderly and you give him a tight smile, not entirely convinced.

It matters to you whether you will be welcome here or not. It’s Legolas’s home and you can’t bear the thought of being an unwelcomed guest there, tolerated only because Legolas brought you there.

“It still didn’t soothe you,” Legolas remarks and you shake your head, sighing.

“I only want you to feel well there, and if I’ll be a burden-“

“You are not a burden, Y/N. My father will have to accept it.”

The door open soundlessly and you jump from the horse, fast to lace your fingers with Legolas’ when he offers you a hand. You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves only to find the task impossible to complete.

You are worried sick and there is nothing you can do about it unless Legolas’s father will approve of you. Which is not likely to happen.

Inevitably, each step bears you closer to the Throne Hall, to King Thranduil, to the father of the elf you love with every fiber of your being, yet will it be enough for Thranduil to just deal with you? To try to at least understand that the heart wants what it wants and sometimes you cannot deny it?

You can only hope he will and, as the guars leads you into the Hall, your heart begins to race in your chest. Legolas squeezes your hand and offers you a reassuring smile but you can see that his eyes, too, are worried, that he as well is concerned about his father’s opinion of you.

Frankly, it should not matter. You have seen many couples that miraculously made it happened without their parent’s approval. Arwen and Aragorn were a great example that true love will always bring two people together, no matter how bad the odds might be.

King Thranduil turns his head to look at you and Legolas as you enter the Hall and come facing the Throne. You swallow hard, sporting your face into a polite, respectful expression.

Thranduil’s lips twitch slightly in the corner as he forces a grimace away. He stands up and descends the stairs and you are positive that everybody in the room can hear how fast your heart beats.

Legolas greets his father warmly and when Thranduil is in front of you, you courtesy.

“King Thranduil,” you say as you straighten up.

“So, you are the mortal that my son decided to court?” he says coldly and your eyes widen at his straightforwardness. You clear your throat.

“Yes, father,” Legolas chimes in before you can open your mouth. “Y/N is the one I chose. I do not intend to change my mind.”

“Surely, there is something we can do about it,” Thranduil muses, waving his hand in front of your face as he walks past you to return onto his throne. You clench your jaw, willing yourself from spitting at him. It will do you no good, that’s for sure.  

“I will not change my mind. I love her,” Legolas’s voice is hinted with anger and you turn your head to look at him. His expression is stern, almost fierce, his eyes full of challenge and you pray to Valar to prevent you from any fight. You’re too tired for that.

“I believe you both are tired after the journey. Your chambers are prepared. We will talk after you rest.”

“Y/N will stay in my chamber,” Legolas adds and tugs on your hand, prompting you to follow him as he storms out of the Hall, ignoring the guards.

You decide to remain silent until Legolas reaches his room and locks the door behind the two of you.

“I can leave-“

“You will not leave, Y/N. Not alone. I promised you that I will stay by your side till the rest of our days and I will not break that promise only because my father is too proud to see that we truly belong together.”

“I hate to see you rebel against him. I shouldn’t be like this, Legolas,” you whine, falling on the bed and Legolas sits next to you, snaking an arm around your middle. You rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent. It’s always been calming to you.

“He will accept you. He will.”

_______

Days pass turning into weeks and then months yet the tension and aversion don’t waver. They seem to grow with every minute you and Thranduil spend in each other’s company, ready to explode and hurt every one of you.

It’s a torture, really, to be around those who are openly dislike you and even mock you. No one has a nerve to speak in your face but the glances and smirks as you wander around the palace tell you enough.

Anxiety seems to take a permanent residence within you as more and more nights are sleepless, your meals becoming smaller and smaller. You are on a verge of falling apart and Legolas can’t bear looking at you in such a state.

“Come with me,” he says one day as you, yet again, play with your meal, not willing to eat even a tiny bit.

“Where to?” you ask, indifferent and Legolas comes to your side, crouching and cupping your face with one of his hands.

“We’ll stroll around the forest, far from others.”

Knowing better than to argue with him, you nod. Truth be told, you want it badly – to be where others are not, to have a break from acting like a perfectly strong and unbreakable woman when your current state is quite the opposite.

Legolas smiles fondly at you and leans in to place a chaste kiss on your lips before he pulls you up and urges you to take what you need.

You put on a jacket and, lead by your intuition, a dagger, gift from Aragorn before you left Gondor. You don’t think you’ll need it, after all the guards are always near to make sure no harm comes Legolas’s way, but it calms your mind to have the dagger with you.

You head out shortly after, fast to find yourselves between trees and grass. You inhale deeply, feeling as being there sooths you bit by bit. The forest is serene, full of delightful sounds of animals and birds and soon enough you forget about your worries, simply enjoying the time with your beloved.

However, the danger does not sleep as, what occurs to be a some kind of Warg’s mutant, roars from the bushes and in next second its head comes to view. It’s growling from the depths of his throat, an evident danger and before you can think twice, you push Legolas behind yourself, unsheathe the dagger and throw it easily, aiming in between the beast’s head.

The weapon meets its target and the beast lets out a broken whimper before it falls onto the ground, sure dead.

Legolas’ arms comes around your waist as he pulls you flush against his chest, your back pressed against it firmly. You’re not shaking, you’re not scared. Frankly, you have never feel better. Finally, something you’re good at, something you cannot fail.

The guards arrive a moment after, their eyes widening in shock as they take in the image. One of them mutter that the King will be here in no time and true to his words, Thranduil marches in few minutes later, just in time to see Legolas place a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Son, are you hurt?”

“No, Y/N managed to kill it before it even attacked.”

“Y/N? Y-you did it?” Thranduil looks at the beast and then at you with an utter shock written on his face and you let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you think that I joined the Fellowship as some sort of entertainment for the boys? I was trained to be warrior and I am one. I risked my life to cleanse our world from the Evil, King Thranduil, I am not some kind of random girl who thought it would be fun to catch herself a prince. I love your son, with all my heart. What else should I do to make you see it?”

A silence falls after your speech, tension almost palpable and much to your surprise, Thranduil bows his head, his expression one of regret.

“I apologize for the way I treat you.”

“Only because we both love Legolas, I forgive you. But do not think that I will forget easily. I do not hold grudges usually but I will make you an exception,” you state, narrowing your eyes as you finally let all of the negative emotions from inside you out.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, King Thranduil,” you say as your last words and after that, holding your head high, you turn around and head back to the palace.

Legolas glances at his father, absolutely amused.

“She has a temper, hasn’t she?”

“Well, my son, I dare say you made a right choice.”

“I’m glad you finally see it.”

[sugarless-suki-writes-movin-blog]

To the Blacksmith

A little short I wrote based on something that happened to my character during the campaign I’m in. Apparently our DM came up with it on the fly and I effing love it???? Ha. Anyway, Astrid is a character I’ve had for several years and I jsut translated her into DnD stuff. She’s a half high elf tiefling (since tieflings are already half demons)

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons (5e) Rating: Explicit (Current chapter is kinda T+ buuuut, will be E in the future) Word Count: 1,837

Read on Ao3

Summary: After defeating a lycan and having spent the night celebrating their victory, the party is now perusing the town and has split up to cover ground and get things done in a timely manner.

Astrid was mentally preparing herself to face the members of high society once more as she and several others made their way towards the gates that led to that part of town. The only reason they were going there was to speak with the blacksmith, the only one in town. She wasn’t eager to go, but she needed to get her rapier fixed. She was also curious to see what else the blacksmith would have in stock. She was always up for getting new weapons. She had a Drow, his butler, and a Dragonborn in her party, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember their names. She knew the Dragonborn as “The Cleaver” simply for the fact that he had a tendency to cleave things in half in battle. He also didn’t really speak much, so that made things a tad bit harder to remember his name.

As for the Drow and butler… they had only been a part of their party for one day, so she wouldn’t know their names. She also found them a bit annoying. It was bad enough with one Drow that knew next to nothing about their world.. now there was another one? At least he was a cleric and could heal the party if need be. And… he had provided her Sanctuary during their last battle and saved her from dying. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

The rest of their party was at a bookstore, since their leader Newt wanted to look up some things. She was confused as to why Eris wanted to go to the bookstore, but she didn’t question it. Kiirehtt was just…. Kiirehtt. (Honestly, the bard should really get another weapon.. or at least sell the rapier they never use. Astrid was confused why they even had it in the first place.) The new Kenku was difficult to talk to, and their ranger, Sampson, was passed out drunk in the tavern still. So, the party in the library was going to meet them at the blacksmith later, likely once Newt was done.

Before she really realized it, they had reached the gate. She held back the grimace that was itching to spread across her face and show her distaste for the situation, and instead placed a haughty look on her face. That should help her pass as a noble. She pushed past the three members of her party and approached the guards.

“Halt, what business have you here?” he asked, looking down on her with a look of disgust on his face.

Astrid pulled a pendant out of her pocket that held her family crest on it. “My party and I would wish to pass through and see the blacksmith.” she said, her nose held high as she handed the guard the pendant. He looked it over, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Amsel? Didn’t they all die 10 years ago?” he asked skeptically.

Astrid put a frown on her face, letting her eyes water slightly. “Yes.. what a tragedy it was to lose both my parents in one night… Thankfully I had survived to live another day and continue the family bloodline. I am also forever grateful for the immediate capture and death of the culprit.” She sniffled slightly and looked down, feigning tears.

The guard looked a bit skeptical. “One moment please.” He then turned and went into the gatehouse. A few moments passed and he reemerged, disbelief plain on his face as he returned her pendant. Astrid was pretending to straighten herself and blink back tears as she gave him a small thanks for the return of her crest. “It all clears. You may pass.” He gave a slight bow to her then and then called for the gates to open. Once they were, their party passed through and entered the fray.

The square was brimming with nobility and aristocrats and it took everything in Astrid to not blanch. She hated the aristocracy with a passion. She couldn’t wait until this was over with. As she was busy grumbling to herself, she faintly heard the butler trying to get information out of one of the passing nobles. The man turned up his nose at the man, calling him some derogatory term and it made Astrid’s blood boil.

She turned on her heel then, cape swirling around her, and she got up in the man’s personal space, shoving her crest in his face. “How about you tell me, then?” she ground out, resisting the urge to punch him.

He seemed to be ready to brush her off as well, until he really looked at the crest she held. His eyes widened and he looked at her in disbelief. “I thought the Amsels were killed 10 years ago…” he murmured.

“I’m the sole survivor and heir to the family.” she snipped. The man nodded and gave them the directions to the blacksmith. Astrid snorted in disgust and snarled out an insult, degrading him for degrading her party. She may not know them well, but she respected them and knew they didn’t deserve to be insulted by the likes of these people. With that, they carried on, Astrid not hiding her disgust with high society.

They had almost reached the blacksmith when their path was blocked by a man with a red cloak. It was obvious he was of noble birth, but he seemed to be held in higher regards than the ones they had passed earlier. He looked down on them, and there was something about him that struck a chord in Astrid. A sense of… familiarity. “What business does riffraff like you have here?” he asked.

“We were just on our way to see the blacksmith.” Said the butler. The man laughed heartily then, and there was a menacing glint in his eye.

“I think you’d best turn around and leave.” Astrid felt herself get riled up, a rage lighting up inside of her and fueling her. She whipped out her pendant and showed it to him.

“I suggest you let us pass.” she threatened, not even trying to hide the murderous glint in her eyes now. She was over this. She left this society for a reason. The man took a passing glance at her pendant and tossed it away. Astrid watched as it landed in a small puddle of mud. The rage flared and if she were a full demon, she knew her eyes would have bled red by now and she would’ve ripped his head off.

“State your name.” she growled, voice low and menacing.

He chuckled a bit, and his humor only angered her more. “Alexander Crowwood of the Wülven clan.”

The name plucked something in her and she furrowed her brows slightly in thought. She backed off somewhat, trying to figure out who this man was. Why was his name so familiar? Where had she heard it before? Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear what the Drow behind her said to the man. All she knew was that one moment he was humored, and the next he had called in guards and they were standing before him. She held back a groan and resisted the urge to run a hand down her face in frustration. She couldn’t leave them be for one moment, could she? Dear Freyja, help me… She said in a silent prayer to her goddess. However, she noticed the guards and Alexander begin to quiver a bit. She looked behind her and saw that the Dragonborn had grabbed hold of his sword and was looking at them menacingly. She smirked and turned to face the noble once more. She could use this to her advantage.

“I’m Astrid Amsel and I suggest you get out. Of. My. Way.” she threatened, her voice snarling on the last word. She watched as several emotions flew across his face before he finally decided on confusion.

“Amsel? But they all died 10 years ago.” God! She was sick of hearing that!

“I can assure you that I’m of the family. Why don’t you check my crest that you so kindly threw in the mud earlier.” she replied, sticking her nose in the air. The guards backed off slightly as he went over to the puddle and picked up her pendant. He wiped the mud off of it and really inspected it this time. His brows were knitted together in confusion.

“But.. I thought.. you…” He looked at her then and an unknown expression crossed his features and settled there. “We have some… unfinished business to attend to. If you would.” He gestured for her to follow him then and she bit her lip. She was nervous, but she refused to let it show. She still hadn’t figured out who he was and how they knew each other.. but she figured she was about to find out….

…

They made it to his estate and were seated in his private study. They had been sitting in a tense silence for several minutes, just staring at each other. However, he seemed to break before she did. “What happened? I thought you had died?”

Astrid snorted and crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. “What does it matter to you? I hope you realize I have no idea who you are.”

“We were arranged to be wed.” he replied curtly, slight pain in his eyes. Astrid lived for it. However, her joy was short lived as it all came flooding back to her. She remembered all the days of planning, her meetings with her groom to be, her utter disgust of the entire charade.

Her lip curled as her nose wrinkled. She looked up at him and spoke her mind. “God…. I guess I do remember now.” His eyes seemed to brighten at that and she held back a smirk, wicked ideas forming in her mind. “Yes, I remember that idiotic arrangement. What was it? A mandatory five children? A happy life living in nobility?” She threw her head back and laughed heartily. Once she calmed, she looked up at him through her lashes and relished in the pain in his eyes. “I did everything I could to avoid that union.”

She rose from her seat and placed her hands on the wooden desk, leaning forward. “I even went so far as to kill my own parents.” His eyes widened at that and he opened his mouth to speak, but she continued before he could interrupt her. “Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. And as I’m sure you know… the ‘killer’ has already been caught and executed. The evidence has been ditched and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.” she whispered threateningly. Satisfied, she let out a small chuckle and went to pull away. However, he reached out and grabbed her, stopping her before she could leave.

“I will have you, Astrid Amsel.” he snarled.

She leaned in then, standing on her toes to properly get in his face. “I’d like to see you try.”

[thiswasnotscripted]

I’ll keep you save

Fen'an had known, that it was a bad idea, even before he accepted.

They did come back from Emprise du Lion this afternoon, where they had fought Red Templars, froze off their feet and managed to ditch the many dragons that had made this area their new home. All their caution had been useless in the end; one of these huge reptiles had blocked their path and the fight had been inevitable.

While Fen'an had been glad to come out of the fight alive, the Iron Bull had been pumped. Proudly he had carried the massive skull back to Skyhold and even the fact that he h would have to give his trophy to Helisma, so she could examine it, couldn't bring him down. Spontaneously he did invite the whole party into the tavern under the pretext that the alcohol would surely warm up their frozen bones.

Fen'an had known, that it was a bad idea. But now he was here with the Iron Bull, between them to mugs filled with a beverage that tasted like kerosene, and regretted his decisions.

Lavi and Sera did gave up long ago. While Lavi still tried to sit upright and probably promised herself never to drink again, Sera already lay under the table, snoring peacefully.

„Hey Boss, you're giving up?“, asked Bull grinning and was greatly entertained by the hard-drinking Inquisitor. The elf smiled deviously.

„Never.“

He felt hot, sick and the world had started to spin around him minutes ago, but he would have never admitted that. Not before the qunari would declare his defeat and would admit that he wasn't able to drink the Inquisitor under the table.

Reluctantly he reached for the mug in front of him and chugged down the bitter liquid, which the qunari dared to call alcohol. Bull did the same and reached for the now almost emptied bottle.

„You know, it's no shame to give up now.“, he tried again. „You are an elf after all, and elves are known to be quiet the lightweights.“

Fen'an shook his head and tried to cover up a cough.

„This may be true, but this is about honor!“, he said and frowned. The alcohol burnt in his throat ad gave him a voice of a chain smoker. Heroically he lifted his fist. „I am the Inquisitor and I have a reputation to lose.“

„As you say, Boss.“, Bull laughed and refilled the mugs. They had emptied the bottle now and Bull was almost relieved. He didn't know how much longer the stubborn elf would be able to sit upright.

Fen'an emptied the mug one last time and Bull did the same.

„Ha!“, Fen'an shouted triumphantly and leaped up. For a moment it looked like he would fall backwards over the bench behind him, but he caught himself and pressed his hands into his hips. „The bottle is empty, I am still standing... you owe me 20 Sovereigns.“

Bull looked up to him and smiled amused. He had to give him that, the elf could hold his liquor. When he had tried that stuff the first time, it had needed less to knock him out. Fen'an seemed satisfied with his victory and didn't noticed the person, that had just entered the room. Dorian had been searching for the Inquisitor for quiet awhile now and seemed to be relieved to have finally found him.

„There you are!“, he said and came closer. „And I feared, I had to search whole Skyhold for you... Are you okay? You look pale...“

„Dorian, we talked about this.“, Fen'an reminded him and smiled fondly. „If I go out in the sun, I reflect its light. That's just my natural skin tone.“

The mage wasn't convinced and reached for Fen'ans chin.

„Your eyes are all glassy.“, he murmured and felt his forehead. „Either you are feverish or you just drank too much.”

Fen'an grinned and took Dorians hands off his face. He held one of them to calm the mage and gestured into the direction of the table.

“Bull just lost 20 Sovereigns, after he betted that he could drink me under the table.”, he explained proudly and beamed at the mage. Dorian grimaced though when he saw the empty bottle.

“Did you drink a whole bottle of that?”, he asked shocked and shot Bull a judging look. He knew this brew too well and was honestly surprised that nobody died of it yet. “Are you insane?”

“Well, actually that was the second...”, Fen'an wanted to say, but quickly continued, before Dorian could scold him further. “ I am fine. You see? Still standing!”

As if to emphasize his statement, Fen'an started to stumble the exact second and Dorian had to catch him before he would end up on the floor. Fen'an threw his arms around the man and steadied himself.

“Have I ever told you, that you smell really nice?”, he murmured into his chest and the mage looked down in confusion. “Is that lavender?”

“Ah... yes. It's a new soap I ordered in Orlais that arrived this morning.”, he said quietly. “I thought you might like it.”

“I knew it...”, the elf murmured and nearly started to purr. Dorian seemed a bit overwhelmed and suddenly realized that they both were still in the tavern for everyone to see. Bull watched the couple amused and lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, time to get you into bed!”, Dorian said eventually and shoved to elf to the door. “Josephine kills us both if you show up at the wart able hung over.”

Bull couldn't help himself and threw a comment at them, that made Dorian, already redfaced because of the unexpected burst of affection from his amatus, blushing even harder. Cursing he urged the elf out of the tavern.

The cold night air seemed to sober Fen'an up. He jumped from one stone to the next, babbled happily about everything and nothing and fulfilled almost every cliche one could have about the Dalish. Dorian would have thought of this view as endearing, if he didn't fear for the elf to stumble the next moment and break his neck.

Eventually he managed to bring the Inquisitor safe into his quarters. At least he managed it until they came to the stairs in front of his rooms, where Fen'an suddenly let himself fall down and decided not to move any farther. The effect of the alcohol seemed to show his full effects just now.

“Don't tell me you want to sleep here.”, Dorian sighed. “Just this morning you told us how happy you are to not have to sleep in a tent covered in snow anymore.”

“But everything is moving.”, Fen'an whined and started to pout. “If I get up now I will fall and die... what do you think Josephine will do then?”

Dorian laughed. The Inquisitor used to complain a lot when sober, but now he had turned into the child the most saw in him. It was quiet adorable, really.

The mage crouched down in front of him and sighed.

“Well, then I'll have to carry you to your bed.”, he said eventually and opened his arms for Fen'an to crawl into.”Cant' have you freeze to death out here, can I?”

The elf clinged to him like a monkey and burrowed his face in Dorians neck. The mage couldn't bite back a smile. If Mother Giselle could only see them now... she would probably imply the evil Tevinter mage tried to kidnap the Inquisitor.

Under minor inconveniences he managed to get the key out of the elf's pockets and opened the massive wooden door with a well-aimed kick. Fen'an giggled about something Dorian couldn't understand.

With a final strike of effort he threw him onto the bed and promptly followed him unexpectedly. He shot the elf, who still clinged to him, a questioning look.

“I see you are entertained?”, he said but couldn't fight a smile at the sight of the clingy elf. Usually the Inquisitor rather bit the hand of anyone getting to close than to be touched and even with Dorian it was hard for him to ask for physical affection. His current state was just adorable.

“Very.”, Fen'an said happily and toyed with the mages hair. Dorian followed the touch. “Please stay.”

“Don't you think that'll get a bit uncomfortable, in that position?”, Dorian noted and tried to bring distance between them. Until now he had only entered the Inquisitors bet to... well, to attend certain activities one tends to do with a lover. Not once he had stayed, had left before Fen'an could get the chance to throw him out. The elf had never tried to. He had accepted his decision, upset but understanding.

Fen'an took a deep breath, furrowed his brows and eventually let go of Dorian. He scooted to the headpiece of the bed, as far away as possible and pulled his knees to his chest.

“I am sorry...”, he said quietly and avoided to look into Dorians eyes. “I... I don't want to rush you.”

“But?”, Dorian pressed and watched as Fen'an, still avoiding his gaze, picked at his pillows.

“... I am afraid to be alone.”, he said eventually and Dorian realized.

The sudden urge for contact wasn't a result of the alcohol and the risky drinking behavior had not just been a bet. Fen'an was scared.

He was scared to seem weak, scared to be vulnerable and alone with his thoughts. Scared that others would see just how afraid he was.

What had happened after they left the Winter palace had affected him more than he had shown. The scars on his neck, that glimmed faintly in the dark, did heal. The scars on his soul didn't.

Dorian sat down next to the elf and pulled him to his chest.

“Amatus...”, he said quietly and pressed a kiss on top of his head. “I won't leave you alone, not if you need me. You're safe now. I'll keep you safe.”

Both of them stayed like this till late in the night, when Dorian noticed that Fen'an was fallen asleep  in his arms. He didn't leave but brought them both into a more comfortable position, fearing that one of them would suffer from a stiff neck in the morning otherwise.

To his surprise he had to noticed that the elf, despite having been dead ass drunk the night before, didn't show any signs of being hung over. He was just really happy to find Dorian next to him. Also, he had to admit, it was nice to wake up and feel the warmth of the elf on his body. He could get used to that, he thought.

The only true sufferer was Lavi, who was woken up by Sera the next morning and found herself on the same bench she had been fallen asleep on. The elf offered her a glass of water, which she gladly took and she promised herself never to touch any alcoholic liquid again. This time for real!

Her mood did brighten though, when she heard how the night had gone for her brother. At least one of the twins had profited from her suffering.

[fallen029]

Chill

The house was still and silent, other for the soft, hushed strums of an acoustic and random subdued half-truths of a man who'd been gone for far too long from a woman who was far too good for that sorta treatment. She was no fool and knew that the tales he were spinning, of his massive adventure across Fiore for an SS-Class job weren't without their fallacies, but had few problems with this. He'd been gone for more than half a year and short of him bringing home a bastard, there was little that would have elicited an opposite reaction than the one she was having.

They'd missed one another.

He'd dressed, after their reunion, but only to slip on a pair of boxers once more while she sat nude, other than his purple shirt, draped over her shoulders, and he wondered a few times if the cool surface of the guitar bothered her thigh. Winter was upon them, but neither felt the need to get under the blankets, too comfortable how they were lying currently.

Occasionally, their eyes would meet and she'd laugh slightly while he'd smirk, but other than that, his eyes drifted from the ceiling to shut as hers fell to the bed lazily. It was enough, then, to be near one another, in that moment. He'd tell her in the course of days, honestly, all that he needed to about his journey and eventually she'd share with him all she'd done. Truthfully.

"Need a new house," he muttered eventually too her as Mira took more to plucking. "One with a fireplace. In our bedroom. Keep cozy."

"Sounds nice."

"You wan' it? Dragon can get it for you."

"Mmmm."

"Go on some more jobs. Earn us some more jewels." His head lulled to the side then, away from her, as he stared in the dim light of the candles she had on the dresser and bedside tables over at the window, watching the snow drift down in the soft light of the moon. "In the spring. No time soon. Too cold. I got frozen up in a cave, while I was gone. Nearly died."

"Mmmm."

"Missed my baby. Thought about my baby." One of his hands came to fall over his left pec, still watching the snow outside. Grinning to himself, he whispered, "Can't die before we make a baby. A real one."

"You're the one always gone."

"I'm saving up before I make my baby. Not no deadbeat. My baby? Gonna have the world. My woman too." He was still smiling, his teeth showing through a bit then. "That's what you'll be then. Once I have a real baby, you'll become my woman. Full time."

"When am I your woman and when am I your baby now?" She just kept strumming. "I never learned the difference."

Instead of answering (as there was no answer), Laxus only whispered, "Mirajane?"

"Hmmm?"

"I miss your music. When I'm gone. Recording it on my headphones isn't ever enough."

"Maybe I could come with you."

"Don't tease me."

"Bring my guitar. Be your cheerleader."

"I'm about to need a new pair of boxers."

"Not sure the implication-"

"I'm gonna jizz in them."

"Go back to being quiet. Please."

But it was said with a giggle and he only turned his head once more, so he could stare at the ceiling. "Just miss you."

"I know."

"Loyal. Eight months is a long time. I fuck around on my baby?" Snort. "Nah. Never. Not my demon."

"Not your demon."

"Not my demon." Laxus grinned then, but it was sleepily and as if in a haze. Softly, he told the woman, "You and I work so well together, you know."

"I know."

"I would never do this with another woman. Never," he sighed. "Lay around. Talk. When you finish with your guitar, snuggle you up real tight."

"And what will I have done to deserve such an honor?'

"Been mine. The only. Only one that matters. Fuck."

"Hmmm?"

"I ain't snuggled with another woman the way I do you since...since my mother.'

Her strumming faltered a bit, but Laxus only hummed.

"She liked for me to sleep in bed with her, you know, when...when Ivan was gone."

"Oh." Mira's notes changed then, as she strummed two minors in a row. "We, you know, lived in a tiny little house. I shared with Elf and Lisanna. Sometimes if Elf was kicking too much in his sleep, I might go try to crawl into their bed, but it wasn't much more comfortable. My father wasn't exactly a tiny guy, you know."

"My mother liked for me to be close to her. I was always so...sick."

"I know. It's cute." Mirajane giggled. "I'd let my kids snuggle with me in bed."

"Mmmm." He was done then, it seemed, with that, and only said, "Play that song."

"What song?"

"That song."

"Which-"

"You know."

She knew.

He wanted the final song. The last song she always played. Not the one she'd close sets with, up at the bar. The one she'd play him before bed. The lyrics were soft and Laxus knew them by heart. It wasn't anything relevant to him. Just one of Mira's typical songs. Bubbly nonsense.

But he felt a connection to the song.

It had been the one that she was playing one night as he was up at the bar, getting drunk, that time when they wound up going home together. It was what he slurred to her, the words, on the walk to his place and Mira, ever sober, only giggled politely. Because she wasn't drunk. Nope. She was charged with getting Laxus, the only person left after closing, home.

Which she did. Walked him all the way to his apartment. Helped him in. And, when he rushed straight to the toilet, she sat with him the whole night.

Yep.

That first night they spent together wasn't sexual in any way. It was just Mirajane, with him, all night, caring for him through his dangerous closeness to alcohol poisoning.

It wasn't all pretty. And she surely had no reason to think she needed to aid him through this. The two were cordial in those days, at best, but certainly no more than guild mates. Distant guild mates. Not wipe your face with a cool towel when you vomit guild mates.

He didn't recall a lot of that night, honestly. But he did remember someone there with him. Someone nice. Who sang to him. Rubbed his stomach. Kept him hydrated with water, regardless of the fact he tried to refuse it at every turn.

In the morning, when he awoke, how shocking it was to him to realize it was Mirajane Strauss in his bathroom, showering.

She'd only apologized as he blinked dumbly at her after she got out, having transformed into a new dress. She claimed she had to get to work and needed a shower, after the night before. And Laxus, quite dumbly, asked if they'd slept together, to which Mira laughed, came closer to gently pat his stomach, before leaving him standing there, hungover, and confused.

Eventually, of course, she explained the night to him in full and, rather embarrassed over all this, Laxus mumbled out something that could be construed as an apology while the woman only giggled in her special way and told him if he took her out to dinner, they could call themselves even.

Which he did.

And enjoyed himself.

Of course, he couldn't admit this to himself immediately. No way. He went away on a job. Hummed the final song of hers that he couldn't get out of his head. Picked up a woman in some bar far away from Magnolia, trying to fuck and forget Mira. That was a thing, right? After being with someone, you need to be with someone else to truly get over them. But hell, he hadn't even fucked with Mira yet.

Not to mention it didn't work.

He just… He wanted to hang out with her again.

So he went back to town and offered to take her out again. Which Mirajane found extremely odd. She'd enjoyed herself as well, of course, but she enjoyed herself in most situations. Still, there was no way that she was going to turn the man down (it was always a miracle to see him interact with those outside the Thunder Legion, so no way was she going to diminish the obvious steps at socialization she assumed he was taking) and boy, was Mira in for a shock when after a very nice dinner where he listened to her gab on about the hall (pretended to, actually, but rather well for a man who hardly ever faked something such as that) which he paid for, the man tried to shove his tongue down her throat on the walk home.

She shoved him off, of course, surprised for a moment, but Laxus seemed even more so, having assumed Mirajane knew what they were doing. That it was a date. That the first was kind of a date too. And they didn't need a third because they'd known one another for years and, therefore, could just go ahead and fuck already.

He assumed Mira ascribed to the three date thing purely because she seemed like the type. Typically, he was a one and done kinda guy, but he could put on airs. Pretend.

Anything to get the woman out of his mind.

Until...until that moment, when she wouldn't cooperate. And he had to kinda mutter under his breath about how he though they were on a date and, you know, he was just testing the waters is all. Mira still only stared.

It was summertime and nice out though so when Mira eventually spoke, it was an offer for him to take her to the park, for them to walk around for a bit, if he'd like.

Which wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it wasn't like he could say no and risk her rushing off to Fairy Tail to tell them all what a perv he was, so of course Laxus agreed.

She told him about how she didn't date often and that she wasn't really sure what his intention was. If it was as some sort of payback for her caring for him, there was no need to worry about that; she'd have done it for anyone. And if it was for some sort of silly hooking up reason, don't waste his time; she didn't enjoy those sorts of games either. Lastly, as they continued their slow trek down the paved path in the park, she informed him that if he honestly wished to go on a date, then he could ask her in the near future and they could go from there. But only if he were truly interested. If not, she was just as content to pretend that the evenings events had not occurred.

Which wasn't getting turned down really, but also wasn't being received either. He walked her back to her house, at least, because he felt as if it were the right thing to do.

Another three weeks would pass, in which Mirajane would assume he decided against asking her out and Laxus tried actually to forget.

But it was impossible.

So, after lot of heavy consideration, Laxus took Mirajane out on what she called their first date.

Which he considered their third.

But...he could pretend for her sake.

He would get pretty good at it as their relationship deepened.

The first time he actually slept with Mirajane was about a month following that. They'd gone on one other date, which him taking a job in between, and then, when he was back, she wanted to hang out and one thing led to another and…

Elfman and Lisanna were out. On a job. Together. Mira had the night off, as Kinana could handle the place when it was slow (and boy, was it that night) and invited the newly returned Laxus over to her house, where she'd make him dinner, she claimed, which she did. A nice one. But then, most everything the woman made was nice.

Eventually, of course, they wound up in her room, but once all that was over and Laxus found himself, while sated, not the least bit over his demonic sickness, he muttered out a request while lounging on her bed, nude, one leg hanging off the edge.

He wanted her to play him a song. On her guitar. And Mira, breath just as gone and just as wine infused, only giggled softly. She called him drunk, but he only muttered that it had been stuck in his head, one specific song, for far too long, and he couldn't wait another year or so for her finally have a long enough break up at the hall to actually get on stage.

Compliance was in Mirajane's nature and it was through laughter that she watched him drift off before the final chords were strummed.

It wasn't hard for that to become the norm.

"I know?" she repeated then, as they laid in bed with one another, on the eve of another one of his returns, but in a far more stable relationship with one another. "Dragon?"

"You know," he sighed. "Demon."

He didn't fall asleep during it this time, but it took a bit of effort on his part, as he honestly had to fight it. Laxus wanted to hear it, but he also wanted to lie with one another for a bit, following it. The reward was sweet for his consciousness upon her completion as the she-devil only laid her guitar beside the bed, not leaving it herself, before falling more into it, to lie correctly with the slayer.

Neither whispered words of admiration or love, but the need wasn't felt anyhow. That wasn't this thing, really. In fact, in the morning, when she'd get up for work and he'd stay in bed for most the day before heading out to locate the Thunder Legion, the two wouldn't even speak with one another. Nor up at the hall, as he had no reason to place an order, for Mirajane knew it by heart and would bring him exactly what he wished for upon his entrance, and he'd never dream of bothering her with petty things while she was working.

She would never do it to him either, should he be out on a job, and he held the same respect for her during her shifts.

To someone that didn't know the two and their relationship, they might even assume there wasn't one, just observing them up the guild hall. Mira had even giggled to him, sometimes, at home about how someone up at the hall attempted to ask her out, only for her to snicker and inform them that she was very much so taken.

Which never served to not stroke the slayer's ego.

As they lay next to one another, however, Laxus did tug her close to him. She didn't sleep on his chest (that was too uncomfortable for the both of them), but he didn't mind the feeling of her breath and hair tickling his side while she always loved being as close as possible.

He watched out the window for a bit, entranced wind whipping flakes of snow all around.

Man, he was glad to be back home.

She had a big fluffy blanket for them to snuggle up under and Mira's head disappeared under it, though that was only because she was resting so low on the bed. His hand rested above her head, toying with her hair as he tried to drift off.

"Next time," he yawned softly, still carefully watching the gathering snow, "I won't be gone for so long."

"It's alright, dragon."

"No, it's not. Miss you. When I'm gone."

"I miss you too." She pressed her cool lips to his side beneath the blanket, causing his fingers to still from their toying for a moment. "But you miss going on adventures when you're here with me. And I think I'm getting a bit spoiled off your S-Class jewels."

"You do know how to spend."

"You can't take it with you to the other side, you know."

"Not with your filthy demon claws in it, I can't. And gods never die."

"Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Neither do demons." She let out a low moan. "From what I hear."

His fingers went back to tangling themselves up in her white locks. "Guess we're pretty great together, huh?"

"The greatest."

"Mmmm," he sighed. "Demon?"

"Wha'?"

"I'mma take you to dinner. Tomorrow. Tonight. Whatever. If you can get off."

"Think I have enough pull up at the bar to swing that."

"Nice dinner. Promise."

"'kay."

"Mmmm. You sleep yet?"

"Jus' 'bout."

"Wanna hear my story again? Till you drift off?"

Giggling softly, she whispered, "Please."

His own eyes shutting then, he took a deep breath before whispering, "I's in a cave and the blizzard had hit it's highest point..."

[asgardian-light]

Random HC #42 (Continuation of #4 - #41)