#its fine though i wanted to break my oath at some point because the paladin dialogue options were pissing me off so much LMAO

[antiparticular]

my wonderful beautiful tain who is so bad at being a paladin (not even at baldurs gate and she's already broken her oath)

here is the before :)

[margridarnauds]

fanfic writer emoji ask: ✍ 🎢 👀

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

For a while, I did, and they were and are great (we have not had a falling out! We are still friends!), but real life kind of got in the way for both of us, and that's fine. Sometimes, I do miss having someone look over my stuff so that I know I don't sound insane, but it's fine.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

I feel like "wildest ride" could mean so many different things. Like, content wise, just on the basis of it existing? ABSOLUTELY A Soft October Night, mainly because I don't think I'd ever gone as far as "Incest Murder Threesome" before. (I will make no promises that I won't do so AGAIN, but it definitely is a shocker from the usual.)

Though this is ALSO from the same creative team that brought you "Romeo has sex with the personification of Death on a crucifix" and "Ronan and Lazare have sex on a printing press" (which seems MUCH tamer compared to the other two), so, really, you can pick your poison.

As far as plot? Either The Midnight Mass or Pour la Peine, depending on if you think "Ronan discovers his old friends are zombies that want to kill him" or "The Thing that happens in Pour la Peine that changes the whole plot" is more shocking. (Personally, I am still REALLY proud of that twist in PLP, since I'd sat on that for years.)

If you're talking about in a crackficky sense? ...I mean. Goosefic. Goosefic. The fic that solidified my reputation in the 1789 fandom. If I say so myself, every single fic I've listed before that has some larger motivation for why it's Like That. Goosefic was just me reading a writing prompt and thinking "I want Lazare to get chased by a pissed off goose." And it is beautiful.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I don't think it's a SECRET I'm working on writing out my playthrough of BG3, or at least. Key parts of it. (I am NOT. Novelizing. An 125 hour playthrough. Yet.) I have about 11k words into it at the moment, but I'm not publishing a word of it until it's in a place where I know I can very likely finish it, or at least make a dent. We are NOT doing that thing where I just publish one chapter, hit a major bout of writer's block, and can't go through with it. (I can't make any promises for AFTER one chapter.)

It deals, primarily, with Kitrye's Happy Fun Times in the game, her ongoing verbal game of cat and mouse with Raphael, her relationship with her sister, and her relationship with her culture, as well as her overall development during the course of the game. (I don't really consider it a spoiler, given I put it in an actual gifset, that Kitrye breaks her oath as a paladin at one point -- there is a LOT dedicated to the circumstances around that and how it changes the game, even though that's a late development.) A spoiler that literally only you and a couple of people will understand and so I can give without any worry is:

"Ich will dich nicht, ich brauch' dich nicht. GEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

(Honestly, thus far, it's looking like how I'm writing out every act is taking inspiration from something else. Like, if Pour la Peine and its related stories drew a lot of inspiration from the Evilious Chronicles, I would say that the third act in particular is very, very Elisabeth tinted if you know where to look; second act is looking to have at least one scene inspired by a very memorable moment from one of the branches of the Mabinogi; and the first act, which is still the roughest, is a little bit more up in the air, with all of them borrowing at least a LITTLE bit from The Last Trial.)

Of course. It would be much easier to work on it. IF I HAD MY GAMING PC THAT COULD RUN THE GAME SO I COULD DOUBLE CHECK MY FILES. MY CUSTOM MADE GAMING PC THAT I CHOSE EVERY SINGLE PART FOR SO THAT IT COULD BE A MONSTER AT RUNNING GAMES.

(I'm cool, I'm chill, I'm fine.)

Anyway, have the Symryvvin girls, out of context. (Malla 🤝 Raphael: Being in an eternal state of Done.)

[emo-floof-child-writes]

The Sword of the Solstice

Chapter 1: Dragon Duel!

There are two forces in the world of Theskyx; the Shining Light, and the All-Consuming Dark. The Light is controlled by a Being of Pure Light; known as Lathander the Holy Cat. The Dark is controlled by a Being of Pure Darkness; known as Dendar the Night Serpent.  

Long ago, a great warrior of Lathander, a paladin, fought a great battle, against a force so dark that many said he wouldn't ever be defeated. A Dark Mage, seduced by Dendar's power, gathered all evil to him to join into his dark regiment, as he planned to seal the world in darkness. 

But the great hero would not let him. He used his magic sword to seal The Dark Mage into an inescapable prison. But sadly, he could not keep it sealed unless he too were trapped inside it. The sword that sealed them disappeared, it whereabouts unknown.

Many adventures, mages, and creatures of all sorts, sought after it. They hoped to wield its power, for good or for ill. The sword, however could not be found. Although other legends say that the sword wasn't lost, and the Warrior and Mage are still fighting to this day.

Whichever is true, another adventure was sparked by this Sword of Legend and that is the story that I shall be telling you today. This is the story of how a small group of elves, humans and a Draconic shapeshifter, saved the world from a power that no one foresaw...

We begin our adventure in a damp cave, said by locals to hold a dragon! And it can be expected that with a dragon comes a large fortune! Our adventurers have come in search of treasure, and fame. Their party includes their rather plain looking human rogue, who is the leader, only just turning 26. He wears brown pants, knee high boots and a green tunic to match his messy green hair. Izuku Midoriya, he goes by. 

Then there was their quiet, elven paladin, of the Bright Dawn; Shoto Todoroki. He is 25. He has a long blue coat, which has frilly collar, a pair of leather pants, and gold lined boots. He has a scar on his left side, from a dragon attack years ago. He once a was a Prince, before the attack. His hair has two colors, (perhaps as a result of his service as a paladin), on his right, it is ghostly white, on the other, it is blood red. 

Their other travel companion, a rather angry human barbarian; Katsuki Bakugo. He too is only 26. He wears nothing but a fur cape, and leather trousers, with sandals that spiral up to his knees. He has awfully pale blond hair, that spikes up every which way. He's also known for smashing heads in, and starting fights in taverns! He's a character, to be sure!

The three of them look around the cave, Shoto (using his god's power that flows through him) makes a torch to light up the damp, dreary cave. Izuku slips into the shadows, becoming invisible to the naked eye. Katsuki sulks behind them, arms crossed. “You sure we came to the right place this time?” Katsuki asks, they had been searching for a good while now, and Katsuki was getting sick of searching. Shoto turns to face him. “The map said to go up Myki Pass, and follow along the pass to Dekuuna Road. This is the last cave that isn't on the East-West Road!”

Katsuki growls. “It better be, or I'm striking off on my own." As He says this, a loud roar echoes through the cave. Shoto pulls out his sword, and Izuku grabs one of his throwing daggers. Katsuki laughs, holding up his Warhammer, excited at the thought of a fight. “Be on guard,” Izuku warns, “we have no idea what type of dragon this is.” Dragons aren't always the fire-breathing ones. Some have ice breath, and are blue. Others still are water dragons. There are even some that are said to be shapeshifters, though they have yet to have been proven.

Shoto steps through the door, closely followed by Katsuki, and Izuku takes up the rear. They walk into a room lit by torches. Another roar resounds through the corridors. “I smell something!” A booming voice says. “Has someone entered this Domain?” Shoto looks up to see that the dragon is perched above them. He holds his arms out, making Katsuki and Izuku stop. He points up towards the dragon, and they both nod, walking back into the room they came from.

“What's the plan?" Katsuki asks. “We didn't anticipate that the dragon would be standing right above the entrance.” Izuku scratches his chin. “I should go first, as reconnaissance. If (most likely when) the dragon sees me, charge it from behind, taking as many attacks as you can while it is distracted.” Shoto bows his head. “With all due respect, Midoriya, what happens if he's a fire breather?” He touches his scar, frowning. The last thing Shoto wanted was his reckless friend to receive the same horrible fate he had, or worse.

Izuku places his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Fear not, my friend. I will be as quiet as a fox.” Katsuki sighs. “We're doomed." He says, with a groan. Shoto bows his head. “I will trust your judgment, then." He says, and Izuku nods. Katsuki growls. “Just get this dumb plan over with." he mutters. It may seem that Katsuki doesn't respect his companion, but it's quite the opposite, he is worried that this plan will fail. He knows that even though it is his profession, Izuku can be unreliable when stealthing.

Izuku sighs, and keeping to the wall of the corridor, he sneaks out into plain view of the dragon. He looks up, to see that in place of a dragon, is a young man approximately the same age as Izuku. He has red spikey hair, and is sitting shirtless on the overhang, and he wears a red scarf around his neck. “What's happened?" The red haired boy asks, most likely talking to himself. Izuku looks around for the dragon. All he can see is the entrance to another room. He frowns. Where did the dragon go? Izuku wonders. He scoots along the wall back to where Shoto and Katsuki were standing.

“Hey." Izuku whispers. “The dragon disappeared. There's a boy sitting where the dragon was!” Katsuki gasps, and Shoto clutches his sword. “That is not a boy." Shoto says. “That's a Draconic.” Shoto's village was attacked by dragons, but one was a Draconic, a man-dragon. That particular one was a fire-breather, and caused years and years of damage to his once proud kingdom. It's what made him pledge to be a paladin. He has sought after this dragon for years, to deliver the Evil One into the Divine Light.

"What are we going to do?" Katsuki asks. “I mean, can he turn back into a dragon?” Izuku taps his chin. “It seems that he was unaware of what happened." Izuku says, and Shoto nods. “From what I have learned, it seems Draconics are like Werewolves. Unaware in their human state.” Shoto frowns. “This does pose a moral problem. Is it right to attack something that is unaware of what it has done? I need time in prayer.” Katsuki growls. “We don’t have time!” Izuku places his hand on Katsuki's arm. “The Draconic is unaware of our whereabouts. We can take a moment.”

Katsuki stomps his foot, sitting down. He pouts, because he thought he was about to fight a dragon. Izuku sits down next to him. “I understand that you want to fight a dragon, but Shoto brings up a good point. How do we know that he is aware of this?” Katsuki groans. “For someone who steals for a living, you have a high standard for moral choices.” Izuku scoffs. “I prefer the term, ‘treasure hunter.’ I don't steal from other people.” Izuku had a rough childhood, full of awful hunger on the streets.

Shoto sighs. He kneels, and closes his eyes. Lathander, He prays in his head. What should I do? I can't kill an innocent man, Draconic or not. I don't want to be an oath-breaking paladin. The Draconic that destroyed my village, what if he wasn't aware? Please guide me to the Divine Light. Let me make the right decision, ease my conscience. May Dawn be yours, your faithful servant, Shoto Todoroki. A calmness settles over him, a golden glow from his Aura of Light shines around him.

Katsuki sighs. “Have you come to a decision, Light-Bringer?" He asks, standing up. Shoto folds his hands. “I believe so. You won't appreciate my decision. I want to see if we can convince the Draconic to see the Light of The Morning Lord.” Katsuki fake gags. “You're right, I hate it." Katsuki grumbles. Izuku sighs. “How about we try it Shoto's way, and if that falls, we'll kill it, um, him?” Katsuki sighs. “Fine, let's get this over with.” The three of them walked into the corridor, to see that the red haired young man was standing in the hall now.

“Oh, I have guests?" He says, frowning. Shoto walks forward, and bows. “Pardon me, my companions and I were told that a dragon resides here. The villagers said that it was destroying their crops.” The Draconic gasps. “Oh no! It's happening again!” He curls up into a ball, whimpering. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" He repeats, over and over again. Shoto kneels down next to him. “What is happening again?" He asks, trying to coax him to talk. The Draconic whimpers again. “The voice..." The Draconic says, grabbing Shoto's coat.

Katsuki groans. “Shoto, this person loopy. I think he's a lost cause.” Shoto places his hand on the Draconic's shoulder. “What voice?" Shoto asks. The Draconic look around the corridor. “I've been trapped here for a long time. A mage put a spell on me. I'm Draconic, you see.” He looks at Katsuki. “I'm not loopy. The mage can see in here. His voice is in my head. I can't control my changing anymore. He sends me out to destroy people that cross him. I shall never be free of him.”

Izuku walks over to the Draconic. “What is your name?" The Draconic frowns. “You need to leave, he is coming.” Katsuki growls, holding up his greatclub. “Let him! I've been waiting for a fight all day!” The Draconic winces. “Please, his presence is close. Leave while you still can.” Izuku pulls out his shortsword, Shoto flips his greatsword in his hands. The Draconic sighs. “You've signed your death sentence." Says a different voice. And from around the corner, appears a cloaked figure.

The cloak looks burned, but it appears to be a dark blue color. He pulls up the hood of his cloak, revealing his face. He has red hair, it's shape is reminisce of fire. Shoto freezes. He looks just like Father! He helped the Draconic that burned my kingdom! How is that possible? The Mage chuckles. “You seemed to have seen a ghost, child!” Shoto hands tremor. “Shoto! What's wrong?" Izuku asks. Shoto takes a shaky breath. “He's the man who helped burn my kingdom down!" Shoto says, backing up.

Izuku gasps, and rushes the Mage. The Mage chuckles. “Hello, son.” Shoto whimpers. “‘Son’?!” Izuku says, looking at Shoto. Shoto sighs. “King of Fiery Endeavors.” Shoto says. “If you have come to finish the job, spare my companions.” Katsuki swings his greatclub at the Mage. He connects with his face, sending him backwards. “Katsuki!” Izuku scolds, looking at Shoto. His hands are still shaking, his lip quivers. Lathander, guide me. How can I fight my father? He should be brought into the Light, but must I bring him into the Everlasting Light of Eternity?

Katsuki sighs. “Shoto, take the dragon boy and get yourself out of here. Whatever or wherever the spell or magical object caused this is, we’ll deal with it.” Shoto scoffs. “As a Paladin of the Morning Lord Lathander, I cannot, in good conscience, leave you behind!” The mage, King Endeavor,  laughs. “Paladin of the Morning Lord! How you have changed, my son.” Izuku points his sword at King Endeavor.

“You do not get to speak to him! Shoto, I agree with Katsuki. You need to get him away.” Shoto gasps. Izuku swings his sword at King Endeavor, and it grazes his shoulder. “Very well, Izuku. Come with me." He says, grabbing the scarf of the Draconic boy. The boy whimpers. “But!" the Draconic says, looking at King Endeavor. “He controls me! What if I destroy a village?” Shoto sighs. Katsuki takes another swing at King Endeavor, but his swing is too wild.

King Endeavor smirks, and takes out a glowing, glass ball. Shoto gasps. He had that when my village was destroyed! He convinced the Draconic not to kill me with it, perhaps it controls Draconics? Shoto pushes past Izuku and the Draconic, and casts Command on King Endeavor. “Drop." Shoto says, and King Endeavor grabs his head. Shoto’s voice whispers in King Endeavor’s head, compelling him to release the Magic Orb.

His hand shakes, and he releases the Magic Orb. He gasps, as it falls from his fingers. Shoto reaches his hand out, and catches it. He turns to face the Draconic, and throws the Magic Orb passed him. The Draconic yelps, and King Endeavor gasps. It flies across the room, and smashes against the wall. Shoto turns to King Endeavor, who is whimpering. Shoto chuckles. “That’s what controls the Draconic, right?" Shoto asks, casting his spell, Zone of Truth.

He feels that Lathander’s truthful influence takes hold of King Endeavor. “Y-yes..." King Endeavor says, and his eyes widen. “I didn’t want to say that! Why did I say that?” Katsuki, who has seen Shoto use this spell before, smiles. He knows that if you speak while this spell is in effect, you have to answer honestly. You can get out of it if you make a motion, but he figured that King Endeavor didn’t know that. 

“The power of a Paladin of Light flows through me.” Shoto says, folding his hands. “Now, did that end the effect?” King Endeavor clears his throat. “Yes, it did...” He says, frowning. Izuku sheaths his sword. “Huzzah, we stopped the dragon.” He says, laughing. Katsuki shakes his head. “We may have freed the Draconic, but we don’t know if he’s not gonna murder us.” The Trio of Heroes turn to the Draconic, who frowns.

“I’m not going to murder anyone!” He protests. Shoto can sense that the spell has affected the Draconic as well. “He’s telling the truth.” Shoto says, and Katsuki sighs. “What about Mage of Evil over here?” He asks, pointing at King Endeavor. The Draconic turns to King Endeavor and changes into his dragon-form. “You have destroyed enough lives!” the Draconic’s voice booming. King Endeavor whimpers.

The Draconic breaths fire, and King Endeavor tries to dodge the blast, but he gets consumed in the flames. “Long live Dendar!” King Endeavor wheezes. Whether he intended to or not, our Trio of Heroes get caught in the blast. Shoto and Katsuki whether it, but Izuku is close to death. Once the Draconic realizes it hurt the people that were trying to free him, he turns back into a normal person, and uses a spell on Izuku, who recognizes it as Cure Wounds.

Izuku feels a lot better, thanks to the magic healing, but he still has some pain. Shoto sighs, and also uses Cure Wounds on Katsuki, making him close to fully healed. He then casts Lay On Hands on himself, making himself healed. “S-sorry!” The Draconic sutters, backing up. Katsuki laughs. “I am aware that Dragon Breath is hard to aim... I would have been more mad if you killed my companions.”

The Draconic nods, and bows. “Apologies, um, I’m Eijiro Kirishima.” He rubs his neck, looking away. Shoto walks over to King Endeavor’s ashes. “Sorry about that too.” Eijiro says, biting his lip. Shoto tilts his head and scoffs. “He needed to go to the Eternal Light, I thank Lathander that I didn’t have to smite him myself.” Shoto bows his head, holding his father's ashes in his hand. “May the Light of Lathander shine in your spirit."

He blows the ashes away, and stands up. “I suppose we’re done here, right?” He looks at Izuku, who shrugs. “We should go... best to not be connected to this. Remember what happened last time?” Katsuki groans. “Yeah, no, I do not want to repeat that.” He starts to head towards the door. Izuku follows and Shoto takes up the rear. Eijiro starts to head back to his treasure horde, but now that he is free of that Mage’s power, he has little interest in gold.

He turns around. “Wait.” He says, and they stop, Shoto turns his head. “Yes?” Izuku asks. Eijiro clears his throat. “Is there room for one more?” He asks, tugging at his scarf. Izuku looks at Shoto and Katsuki. Shoto shrugs, and Katsuki smiles. “He can turn into a dragon!” Katsuki says. “He’d be a nice addition.” Izuku nods, and smiles at Eijiro.

“Alright, I think we can be a party of four from now on.” Izuku says, and Eijiro grins, his teeth pointed. He walks over to them, and they walk out of this deary cave, and into the quiet outdoors. The sun is setting, and the road was empty. “Let’s move out, everyone." Izuku says, walking out to the road edge. Shoto follows, and then Katsuki and Eijiro, respectively.

[ask-them-bois]

Oh Heck yeah AU'S let's go pal, this is @abysmaltourmaline giving you 150 percent permission to make AU'S including my ocs. Yes, I'm opening this box

*points at you* Know that this is Pandora’s Conan’s box that you have opened, foolish mortal, and I am not to blame for what you find within. I WILL make aus for your ocs, do NOT tempt me. But fine, I will indulge the previous ask:

“Angrec - Describe a royalty au with your muse. What position would your muse be in? How would they feel about their station? all bois?”

(Instead of just straight up royalty, I’m gonna dive into my Fantasy AU, because it’s the one I have the most developed.)

Vornik- A fae king with powers unknown. He skulks through the densest, darkest forests, singing with the birds. Anyone foolish enough to follow his song comes to find a field of glowing flowers, where Vornik waits. He does not lie about who he is, and offers them things in return for objects of non-substance. A cat’s scale for riches, the fur of a bird for knowledge. A name for the adventure of a lifetime. A dead name for a lifetime of adventure. To those who can give him what he wants, he is benevolent, dancing with them as the sun sets. To those that cannot, they dance for much, much longer.

Makeno- A siren prince that lures handsome sailors into the rocks. He “saves” them from this cruel fate and pleads for them to stay with him, lamenting his loneliness. Some say they will, and he drags them to the bottom of the sea. They never again see the surface, but are pampered, safe, and happy in a palace made of coral. As for those who don’t stay, well, Makeno doesn’t have the heart to wound a pretty face, but that doesn’t mean he will help the now stranded men.

Corden- A war-forged automaton, with a skin of steel and heart of gears. A brain of ruby and amber gave him the ability to think and feel, before his masters cast him aside. Now he patrols the ruins of his birthplace, his heart ticking time away as he waits for someone to find him, to use him as he was meant to be used.

Musrio- A powerful necromancer of infamy. His palace of bones and mushrooms is hidden in the darkest of places, only found at cross ways on old roads at three in the morning precisely. To those that step inside, he bids them welcome with a friendly tone. Those who find him are always seeking something, even if they themselves do not know what it is. Those who bow and scrape and show respect, he will try to help. Many widows and widowers, grieving mothers and mourning fathers leave the crossroads with lighter hearts and tear-stained smiles. But those who demand the use of his powers, with no respect for his art- those people are never seen in daylight again, only spotted as shambling, rotting thralls that loiter in the dark alleys.

Drayco- A dragonborn hero, set out on a journey to right the world’s wrongs. With a blade from their master, a shield from their mother, and the cloak of their father, they rush forward towards adventure on the back of their steed. They have taken on dragons and gods alike, and comes out with new scars and loot each time. They have earned the favor of the people, but the rage of lords and kings who send armies after them. Never have they been caught, but every hero has a flaw that brings about their downfall.

Gehero- A wise hermit and sage, just as he is now. Except this Gehero sits atop a mountain, brewing potions and teas as his dozens of cats trip about his feet. Weary adventures seek his wisdom, asking of their futures and fortunes. He sits with them, offers them tea and a place to sleep for the night. He cannot tell them what they want, he says, for he cannot see the future, but he can offer advice on how to get there.

Rufuss- A humble dwarf, who forges tools and items of value. No blade has ever come from his heated irons. Instead, he produces hoes and rakes that will never dull, hammers that never break, and nails that never bend. Horseshoes never need replacement, and his pliers never rust. The local humans adore him, and he is gifted many things for his hard, earnest work. Everything they request is promptly given, often with a twist or surprise that makes the tool even more amazing than the buyer was expecting.

Ashhur- A young king, only recently given the throne. He is inexperienced and afraid of his future, but he forges ahead for the good of his people. The serfs and poor are raised to the heights of the wealthiest, and the rich are stripped of their soiled coins. He rules with a steady hand and fair heart, his lands protected by the mountains and sea. No man is left without a home or bed, and no child without a meal at night.

Innocent- A ranger and druid of the night. He hunts the rarest, darkest creatures, his arrows glowing with a holy light as he strikes down monsters with hordes of gold and blood on their claws. He leads a band of warriors who have lived too long under the boot of the monster that controls their land. Their forests are covered in corpses, and they refuse to let these bodies continue to pile up.

Incoding- A tiefling rogue with the fury of a thousand suns. Cast from his homeland for something he didn’t do, he wanders the human world, his shoulders hunched against the whispers and stares of men and women in the streets. He has the power to call upon thunderstorms and lightning at a moments notice, and has fought battles that never need happen. He is burdened with scars and a bone-deep need of justice. He moves ever onward, seeking the one who can take him home.

Ruthless- The patron god of seas, storms, and heartbreak. His temple sits by the sea, where the people offer him gifts. Seashells, fish, and photos of fallen loved ones appear on his pedestal, and are never removed by mortal hands. He is a merciful, soft god, who looks out for the brokenhearted men and trembling women that seek shelter within his temple walls. To the ones who know the dark pain of loneliness, he appears in the night. Their candles go dark, but they know who is in their bedroom without needing to speak. He holds them and loves them as a midnight lover would, until the sun rises and he fades away. Women who were wronged seek his guidance and protection, and always finds that the one who had hurt them is no more.

Hounding- A barbarian orc warlord that craves power. He turned to the dark arts and ancient gods for help in his bloodbath of a mission. Nothing will stand in his way, he thinks. His blade is bloodstained, his armor polished, and his army strong. He feasts each night before the burning ruins of his latest conquer. But his people are restless, hungry, and unhappy. He doesn’t care, he snarls, unaware of the looks his civilians give one another, the subtle nods that say ‘its time’.

Bluegill- An old bard who travels with a merry band. They play in taverns and in the street, retelling tales of old, only asking for what people can spare. He has nothing but his guitar and the clothes on his back, but that’s enough. He lives to hear the children laugh, and give the people a reason to dance, even in the darkest of times.

Decaying- A banished king, who’s kingdom was ripped from his bleeding hands. With a rusted crown upon his head, and a cloak upon his shoulders, he seeks those who can win him his title back. But his people were quick to forget the man who tried to save them, and turned their backs when he begged their help. Cast from his home, he wanders other lands in search of a purpose. He hides in ancient ruins, staring too long into the flames of his camp fire as he wonders what will become of him.

Survivor- An ancient paladin, sworn by a curse to see the end of the world. He is older than the stars, as everlasting as time. He aches to rest, but his oath keeps him awake. He needs not sleep, drink, eat, or even breathe. He exists for one purpose: to live. He cannot die in battle, illness, or otherwise. He is a champion unrivaled, though he goes into war with nary a blade in his hand. Only one can free him from this pain.

[prompts-and-micro-stories]

Okay guys, I’ve decided to post something longer for a change, because sometimes one gets ideas for story bits that you feel are intriguing, but there is no way you can integrate this in one of your WIPs. So not to forget them I inserted just enough stuff around that it works as a rough outline for a story. Will this ever be turned into a final product? Who knows, but at least I won’t forget the idea ;)  Of course if I feel like there is substantial interest I might put some more time into this.

The story takes place in a fantasy world (it does not really need many elements to work, just that there is no modern tech and that the divine is a tangible real influence). Demons are a constant thread for this world, that’s why there are places where people are instructed to become paladins, which fight those and close the rifts where they step into the world. Anyone can enter the school, but to succeed you need to pass on a series of tests which don’t only include fighting skills but also things like history and the like. Paladins are held to a very high standard.

Our protagonist is one that wants to become a paladin, but she has a hard time with school. She’s not dumb, but just can’t manage to concentrate properly on her text studies and she also gets constantly distracted by minor shit happening around her during physical lessons. Just looking at her personality would suggest she’ll make for a fine paladin; but all those constant mistakes take a huge toll on her sense of self-worth; not only do others tell her constantly that she ought be much farther in her studies, but she herself constantly compares herself to others which seem to have a worse starting point, but do manage to do so much better.

The story starts in the week before a big test, one that the protagonist cannot under any circumstances allow herself to fail, because that would be the end of her dream; but despite her trying even harder than usual and isolating herself from her peers to get less distracted she feels like concentrating just gets harder.

But then things get massively shaken up when a message arrives at the school. Some cult has build a massive portal to the demonic realm. They could shatter the group, but there is not way to destroy that portal until it opens up in a few days, spewing out a giant demonic army. On te plus side they now know of this, so they can assemble their own troupes to fight back the moment they emerge. But even when using not only every paladin and paladin-in-training available things are looking extremely grim.

So the higher ups send up their prayers to the gods, asking for their divine help, and indeed, they recieve an answer in the form of a messenger angel.

The angel explains that they cannot directly supplement the proper paladins, just those in training and even this not for free, because of cosmic balance reasons.

The angel gives them instructions: Everyone viable can get a divine tool in exchange for something that they are willing to sacrifice for the goal. To do so they need to write the things (which don’t have to be tangible objects) on a blessed piece of paper that they have to keep with them; it will transform into a divine tool when the time is near; the more precious the god considers the pledge to be (and the more honest the intentions seem), the more powerful the tool they recieve can be.

The protagonist is eager to participate, but has a very, very hard time to decide what to pledge. All her worldly possessions seem not good enough and promising to to some service just does not seem adequate (in the light of her self-worth). So she starts writing down what she thinks of all of this, and finally comes to a conclusion and pledges the only thing that comes to her mind that seems to have at least a tiny bit of value for the good, at least theoretically.

(At this point the readers are not told what she pledges.)

The day of the fight arrives and exacly like the angel had said, the papers start to turn into divine tools. The people who simply followed their guts get them first, while the people who take longer also need to wait longer.

Our protagonist is one of those who recieves a tool before the portal opens, but she’s determined to be let down by disappointment. Demons are invading, and even if the system has come to the conclusion she’s not worthy of becoming a proper paladin she still can fight.

She throws herself into battle and it turns out that automatically reacting to any little things happening around you is actually great if everyone and their mother is trying to kill you. The battle starts out great for the forces of good, but for each demon slain two new seems to pop out of the portal turning the tide of battle to their favour.

And just when the protagonist is sure that she won’t survive that next attack, finally her own divine tool, a sword, appears, just in time. She is not the only one to recieve it very late and three of the last ones stand out to be of a distinctly higher level than the ones dished out so far.

But that sword she got is awesome, too, emanating a cold so fierce it simply burns demons away. She does not really get the big picture, but with the appearance if those four tools the paladins’ side gets the upper hand back, and pushes the invasion back where it came from, sealing the portal, The victory is sweet, but an oath from a boss demon to return with an even bigger army leaves a bitter aftertaste.

Directly afterwards the messenger angel reappears and informs them that the proper collection of sacrifices will be postponed until after the second fight, but this who already can give should do so, because they’ll recieve new tools for the next fight (the old ones already disappeared) and showing their seriousness for their pledge ups their chances to be getting a good tool (or a worse one, if the payment is disappointing). People also can add to their pledge if they feel that this will make it more precious, but there is no compulsion to do so.

Suprisingly things turn back to business as usual afterwards, at least as far as the protagonist is concerned. She has no idea how to actually start paying off her pledge, and spends quite some time to think about what to do. In the end she decides to strive for self-improvement, because even if it does not count as payment, she still hopes that it pleases the god. She starts doing social services on top of studies, something a lot of the others also do, which does not make her stand out, which she thinks is a good thing.

She kinda feels like a fraud getting such a great tool in the first fight when her pledge still seems to her so worthless. 

The test is still on the horizon, and she learns for it, but her constantly nagging self-doubts are making it even harder to focus. On the day of the exam she even sleeps in, and hurries to it after the official starting time.

The examiner meets her with bewilderment and it turns out that she completely managed to miss the repeated announcement that everyone will get bonus points for that fight; and she is one of the four people who earned enough credits this way that the only way to fail the test would be to actively cheat. Not attending would result in a passing (but low) grade. (Turns out that her tool was one legendary sword called “Gefrierbrand” - which she would have found out herself if she had been able to learn her materials properly.)

The news hit her like a brick, and instead of feeling validated (because clearly the higher ups have interpreted this as her having the official approval of a god) her self-doubts grow stronger and she even starts questioning her faith.

Trying to make sense of things, she seeks out the other three that got high-level tools to find out how they are and what they pledged, hoping to find out more about herself in the process.

Turns out those three are also quite quirky and don’t have much in common with each other at first glance. Number one is extremely calm and collected and hardly fazed by anything. Number two is fierce and eager to figth, because that’s what makes them happy. Number three is a dedicated rules lawyer, determined to twist any rule they come across to its breaking point, to uncover hidden flaws.

On closer examination though, they turn out to have kinda similar pledges: Number one pledged “my gratitude” and spend now a while each day to think about stuff they feel grateful about. Number two pledged “my love” and now prepared little gestures and presents for the god, as if they were some person they’re dating. Number three pledged “my doubts” and now writes elaborate essays to sort out their thoughts.

The protagonist befriends those three (not on purpose, it just happens over time) and starts to regain a little bit piece of mind (because having good friends is awesome).

Time flies by and things seem to go the usual way, and the thread of the second invasion turns into a mere background thought, but a constantly nagging one. The protagonist manages to build up her sense of self worth slowly with encouragement from her friends and finally decides that she needs to stop worrying about how her pledge might have been missjudged. She’s doing her best and simply can’t offer more than that, so regardless of what tools she will get the second time, it should not be the sole thing that determines her value as a person, she needs to do that herself.

She even manages to deal with the expectations of the higher ups which think of her as some kind of trump card and count on her to pull out something legendary again. All the time she keeps her own pledge to herself and not even tells her friends.

The portal finally opens again, and the paladins’ army reassembles at the drop of a hat. Again, tools pop up and people recieve multiple ones this time, and our protagonist is among the first to get some, but they are worse than the gear she already has, so she puts them away. She groups with her friends, which unlike her are generously gifted again. But this time there are not the only ones, there are many high level tools on the battlefield this time, it’s now the norm, not an exception.

And how they need it! the onslaugh of demons is seemingly endless and paints the last battle as a piece of cake. The protagonist fights at her best, but is utterly outclassed without better tools, and only sheer determination and her friends keep her from immediatly joining the casualties.

Then the demons use their secret weapon: Their boss summons a thick darkness that wraps around anyone, stealing the light away and muting any sounds to a whispering. This turns the table into their favour immediately, because they are in no way incapicitated, so they start chipping away gleefully at the seriously incapacitated paladins.

Our protagonist loses her sword, and that’s the moment she had it. She starts cursing out like a sailor and angrily berating her good, even getting her current attacker to stop his charge because that emotional outbreak amuses them.

She starts complaining that she feels misstreated and that she does not deserve to be humilated this way, because she had done nothing that would justify first elevating her and then dropping her like a hot potatoe - and even if she had done something wrong this was still a shitty thing to do! This was not about someone worthy or not this was about stopping an invading army of demons and the god should stop from plaing dumb games and give them what they need to even the odds. She doesn’t want some superweapon, just a fair chance, because that was enough for a paladin. And if they had trouble with her they could wait till after the battle.

Another tool appears. It’s no weapon, just a big ring, gently glowing and filling one with a sense of hope and warmth. She recognizes what it is and decides on a whim to put it on, then attacking the nearest demon with her bare fists.

And with her determination the ring glows brighter and brigther, cutting through the darkness, marking her as a target, but also spotlightning the courage she found. She does almost now damage, but still feels her comrade with inspiration, enough to access their last reserves, and hitting back with all they got.

And then the fight is over. An eerie silence lies over the battlefield, until suddenly the tools start disappearing as they had appeared. Then pledges start to vanish, like one guy who had pledges his majestic bard, finds himself suddenly cleanly shaven.

Our protagonist sights heavy from relieve and vanishes just a moment later, while the paper with her pledge drops onto the ground.

[rafcopter]

Nefen and the Paladin

A story to tell the party after interactions with Lawful Good deities and their followers.

That night, Nefen seems sullen.  Not her usual pouty, pity-me-please sort of sullen, but something different; on anyone else, it might register as simmering anger.  After seeing to her chores with an air of frustration, she sits down with the party and drinks from her wineskin.  She nurses it at her own pace for a while, listening to the ambient chatter but not participating, until she finally breaks in with a blunt non-sequitur.  “Gods of Law,” she interjects grumpily.  “I’ll tell you something about gods of Law.”

She pauses heavily, perhaps mulling over her words, or perhaps just trying to remember what she was going to say.

“You all know I lived in a blessed grove before I met you,” she resumes presently.  “I grew up there.  My goddess sheltered me there, and taught me how to live in harmony with the animals and plants.  It was natural.  There was an order to things, but there wasn’t law.  No Humans, no Elves, no quote-intelligent-unquote beings except myself.  It wasn’t complicated, wasn’t Neverwinter, but it was fine.  It was peaceful.

“Then one day I heard some loud maniac crashing through the underbrush.  That wasn’t the first time, of course – the forest had wards to turn away most folks, but sometimes a traveler would get lost and find his way into the grove.  Most of the time it was just some kid separated from their caravan, or maybe a bard that stumbled too far into the wilderness while looking for inspiration.  You know.  Innocent folk.  It was my role to find unlucky fools like that and steer them back to their own world.  But this time was different.  I found a fully armored knight, beat up and bloodied from battle.  She was delirious, and didn’t seem like she was fully aware of me even as I greeted her and saw to her wounds.  My goddess allowed me to heal her over the next few days, and once she could speak again, she introduced herself as Cassyda, a paladin of Torm.  She had come to the forest because of a rumor that goblins were hiding there, and using it as a base to raid the nearest travel routes.”

At recalling this, Nefen snorts disdainfully and takes another long drink.  “What she said was impossible.  Totally impossible.  I explained as much to her.  My goddess had a truce with the local goblin bands; she had arranged it using my voice, so I knew the details of it perfectly.  The goblins were not to hunt, forage, or take shelter in the grove.  In exchange, Mielikki’s rangers wouldn’t use the grove as a sanctuary from which to hunt them.  I realized later that my goddess had probably brokered this deal in order to protect me while I was still young – none of her ranger acolytes actually hunted in the area, but the goblins didn’t know that.

“The point…”  Nefen looks momentarily confused again.  “The point is that no goblins could have lived in our grove, and if they had I would have known about it.  Cassyda refused to believe it.  Even once her wounds had healed and I showed her the way back to the Human lands, she returned from time to time.  If I asked her what she was doing, she would only say she was scouting.  As time passed, the less her questions focused on goblins, and the more they became about me.  Why I was the only intelligent being living in the grove.  If my goddess had properly informed me of my Human heritage.  If my family knew where I was.”

Nefen snickers, but then lets out a sigh that seems caught between exasperation and longing.  She looks wistful.  “If I’m being honest, I have to admit… I started looking forward to her visits.  I was just a youngling – a teenager, I guess, is what you’d call it.  It was nice to have a Human friend.  A friend who would talk back, actually talk back when I spoke to her.  She brought me a few books, taught me a lot about the outside world.  And just as I spoke of my deity, she told me much of hers.  Of Torm.  Torm the Loyal Fury.  Torm and the value of duty and obedience, the salvation of the poor and mistreated, blah blah blah.”

Nefen clears her nostalgic look and exhales wearily.  “At the time I found it interesting.  It was different.  I loved my goddess and how I lived, but it was nice to hear about other gods and other people doing it differently.  That’s natural, you know what I mean?  We have deer and oxen and wolves and tigers and falcons and earthworms and beetles, and they’re all different, and they kill each other, but we need all of them.”  She makes the rambling statement in a hurried rush, and then pauses for air.  “But paladins don’t see it that way.  To paladins, you’re either living the wrong way and need to be educated, or you’re living the right way and you deserve – I don’t know, a big statue?  Or another round of whipping to purge your impurities?  Whatever.

“One day I found Cassyda after she’d been in a battle again.  It was easy to tell it was goblins.  She refused my attempts to heal her, though.  Instead, she demanded to speak to my goddess.  I tried to explain to her that when Mielikki spoke to mortals, at least where our grove was concerned, she spoke through me.  Cassyda would have none of it.  She wanted to be led somewhere where, I don’t know, she could burn an offering and meet an avatar of my goddess because that’s how these things are supposed to work.  Eventually, seeing she wasn’t going to be dissuaded, Mielikki instructed me to lead Cassyda to some nowhere location in the glade.  It was just a clearing, it didn’t have any real significance, but because we said it was holy, the paladin believed us.

“There, Mielikki spoke to Cassyda on the wind, the same way she speaks to her rangers.  Aloud, she told me to leave, but privately instructed me to remain within hearing distance.  When I listened, I heard Cassyda demand that I be released into her care.  She lashed out at my goddess and berated her for holding me in thrall.  In – in thrall, like I was the same as those undead husks that necromancers use.  Despite all the time we’d spent together, all I’d taught her about nature and my goddess--!”

Nefen cuts herself off, and crushes her wineskin in her hand.

“When my goddess stated flatly she would do no such thing, Cassyda announced that she had found the goblin encampment.  She had attacked them, killed several, and left a trail leading back to the grove.  If Mielikki released me, she said, she would meet the goblins in open combat and claim responsibility for what she did.  Otherwise, she would let the deception stand, the goblins would think we had broken the truce, and they would be free to pillage Mielikki’s sacred forest.

“It was so messed up.  I mean, I guess she cared about me in her own way, her own self-centered paladin has-to-control-everything way.  Where her blessed word was law.  But, for me…”  Nefen lets the statement die on her lips.

“My goddess instructed me to say nothing.  To Cassyda, she claimed to agree to the terms, but only if the paladin would undergo the ritual of pack bonding that her followers undertake in order to pledge allegiance to her.  Immediately I knew that was a lie.  Like I said, we didn’t need laws – I am bound to my goddess by choice, not by some hobbling oath.  Of course Cassyda believed it, though.  She was all too willing to buy into the idea that us heathens living in the forest had some ridiculous totemic ritual.”

As she recounts the next part, Nefen’s face takes on a haunted look.  “My goddess stated that in order to claim responsibility for me, Cassyda had to see me as a member of her pack.  As such, she ordered us to bathe together in the ritual pool.  It was just the spring where I went to play with the frogs, it wasn’t ritual or magical or anything… but Cassyda did as she was told.  Her face, her eyes were the same as always, solemn and deliberate.  She took off her armor, and then her tunic under it, and then…

“And then the wolves fell on her.”  Nefen swallows heavily, but continues before anyone can interject.  “Of course Mielikki had sent them.  I looked away before I could see anything, but of course I heard some of it, before my goddess’ voice drowned out the noise.  She said it had to be this way.  She said I was hers, but I did not belong to her.  She said she was a god, and I was her servant, but she needed her servants like a tree needs its roots.  And she said she would kill and kill again if it meant protecting me from other gods and their servants.

“And then she bade me to take Cassyda’s armor, and try it on.  She said I would need it in the coming days, because we could no longer avoid fighting the goblins.  And though she would gladly protect me, I was old enough take on some of that burden myself.”

At the expression of concern from her friends, Nefen raises her hands and waves it off.  “As it turns out, I didn’t have to do much fighting, at least not then.  The Humans ended up blaming the goblins for Cassyda’s disappearance, and the goblins responded to their attacks in kind.  A few sought shelter in the forest, but they were small in number and out of their element, so I was able to deal with them easily enough.  Nature was on my side.  My goddess was on my side.  A lot has changed since then, but those things haven’t.

“Sorry to talk your ears off.  The point I’m trying to make with all this is that, well, there are gods of all kinds out there.  Some claim to be good, some claim to be evil, and some don’t much care.  The paladins, though, and the gods of Law, they’re always going to be trying to change you.  To make you see things their way.  Even if they manage that, they still maintain that they were enlightened, they saw the singular truth before you did.  Is that good?  Can people be happy that way?  Probably.  It’s better than dying at the hands of pillaging Orcs or goblins.  But it’s not me, and it’s not Mielikki.  We -- I – believe we are all here for a reason, good or evil or plant or animal or divine or fey or mundane.  And I’ll fight for that.  I will.  Even if sometimes it seems like I might rather have another drink, or play with a cat, or cry.

“And make no mistake,” she adds grimly before ending her tale.  “I killed Cassyda.  I knew what was going to happen, and I let it.  She wasn’t the first person I killed, but she was the first good person.  And I’m not sorry.”

[norwes]

MoF AU Existential;Experimental

AU: Existential;Experimental. This is an AU where the gods are akin to Super AI now. The Gods adapted to the new age. Magic has been highly studied and thanks to technological and scientific advancement- nanites help make magic more effective/is the new way to use magic. It’s still called magic sometimes though. Set in a future society. 

   Alistair looked his window, the neonic glow of the cityscape of Blue Harbor illuminating the night sky and creating a warped image in the murky waters that it resides by. Brown eyes roamed the streets taking in the details of the now less busy but still very active night life. He easily spot his, well, Bane’s faithful patrolling the streets- collecting payments and keeping the proper order of things. 

   Pride swelled for a moment in Alistair’s normally dead heart, he and Kalryder truly have done the world a great favor. Keeping Bane, the rightful ruler of the world, strong and returning his presence and influence to these lost and chaotic lands. Keeping Torm’s faithful from eradicating them, like some bad line of code. Getting vengeance for that terrible holiday of theirs.

   Just thinking of his Master’s rival AI caused the nanites that reside in his body began to active. His left hand twitching and tensing, begging to summon his weapon. Begging for blood to be spilt, to bring glory to Bane’s name. With a deep breath in, closing his eyes- he let his mind wonder. If he worked himself up now, there was no way he would be able to sleep. 

   Ignoring the buzzing to fight, kill and smite, he drifted. Thinking of traveling to a place he feels calm. Opening his eyes, he glances past the skyline, gazing deep into the country side. Past the mountains, past the farms and residential areas. Across roads and highways, alongside streams and rivers. There, nestled away in the swamp lands, there... His shoulders hiked up and tense began to slack.There he could see the illusions of her dancing in his eyes. 

   Her and that damned village she resides by. The morning fog that never truly leaves the swampy lands. Waking up next to his... his... waking up next to her. The sweet homey scent of that place, the fire place, the weary but friendly neighbors. Smirks and smiles. Long days, longer nights. Watching her master her experimental magic, being an unwilling but obligated tester. Laugher... joy... screams... Bringing new life into the world. One, then two and then the third. 

   The sound of his door opening caused the Paladin to be pulled out of his fantasies, his childish musings. He looked over his shoulder, only Kalryder would enter his room so rudely. 

“Still up then, Ardar?” The blue Dragonborne teased, fangs flashing with a good natured smile. One that so many saw in their last moments. 

“But of course. When else can I get some sort of peace?” Alistair retorted, going back to watching the nightlife of Blue Harbor. Mentally chiding himself for getting swept up in thinking of... 

   The Cleric strolled up next to his spiritual brother. Tail swaying as he closed the distance. “I suppose you're right, it feels like everyday we have to micromanage them more and more. Something is always-”

“Not going according to plan?” Alistair interrupted with a smirk.

   Kalryder snorts, “Yes well... It would easier if you wouldn’t up and disappear every winter, little brother.” Alistair frowned at that, already getting a feeling of where this conversation was going to go. 

“Your more than capable to run this without me for the winter months. No one in their right mind wages any raids or wars during that season. That’s just begging for defeat. I’m not necessary and it doesn’t affect anything.” Kalryder sighed, the human always falling back to such points. 

“Your wrong on that Alistair- It can be seen as a weakness to our position for you to just up and leave, to Bane knows where. Annually. You could be training the new Paladins, creating war plans with our generals. Helping the Cult’s expanse so more follow the right God and put an end to the weak ones. It makes our authority look like a joke. We are all uniform servants under Bane. Shadows are darkest together after all. But when one of the head shadows just up and leaves-” 

   Alistair narrowed his eyes, growling in Abyssal, “We’ve been fine with this for years, Kalryder. Why is it an issue now? Just tell anyone who asks some lie, make it up. Kill those who doubt it.” 

   Kalryder tilted his head, apprising his brother. Clearly displeased with being interrupted but choosing to let it go. “Calm down, I can hardly understand you when you get like this. Would you just listen to me?” 

   Alistair glared down at the streets, taking in a sharp breath before letting it out. Keeping silent, sparing Kalryder a quick glance he awaited his older brother’s words.

   Pleased to at least earn Alistair’s ear than his temper for now, the dragonborne continued, “As I was saying before... We are Bane’s Shadow’s. We lead the rest and you can’t just leave during the winter because you feel like it. We have a greater responsibility as leaders. As Bane’s reach expands, our duties increase. We are to be the pinnacle, the example for the rest to mimic and strive for. You doubly so, given your oath... 

   This winter, you won’t be going to where ever you normally do. It ends now Alistair. But, you won’t be trapped here in the city with me. I know it’d drive you insane. So I propose, because I care about you, that you be a trailblazer for our mission to reach out to other continents. You can explore and find good places for our members to settle. What do you say to that?”

   Alistair gazed blankly out, “Using my oath against me is a low blow.”

“I know. Would you rather me directly order you?”

“Isn’t that what you just did? Ordering me off to a foreign land?” He turned to look up at Kalryder, face emotionless. 

“No, at least not yet. I asked you what you though of my idea for what you could be doing this winter- which shows actual results for the cult. Before you even start, I know you come back with new plans and the like for the rest of the year but this lets you do both. Don’t pretend you don’t want to explore new places, I’ve been dealing with your wanderlust for years.”

“What of Lilith? She still needs schooling and training, you’d have me leave her for an unknown amount of time?”

   Kalryder paused, he forgot about Lilith for a moment. A little embarrassing to forget about one’s goddaughter. “Well, like you already tend to do... Why not take her along?” He stated a little unsure.

   Alistair hummed, with a look of contemplation. “And Magnus?”

   Kalryder smirked, “Magnus will be fine. Not like anyone can keep a bead on him anyway. For Bane’s sake, kid is worse than you were at that age but far more capable.” He teased which cause Alistair to break out into a grin.

“I guess you’re right. Honestly, not even sure where Magus is at the moment. Probably some where close... Can I have this last winter? Give me a bit of time to plan of how to do this. Select people to come along or who is best to earn favor. Find a place for Lilith to learn from while I faithfully serve the church.”

   The Dragoborne hummed, tilting his head. Wanting confirmation before giving an answer. “Where do you even go?” The question hanging in the air for a moment. Kalryder then continued trying to confirm a suspicion, “Do you really return to that place every year? Didn’t the contract end between you two? Both having gained heir and all that...”

   Alistair nodded, “Yeah, the contract did end. Both did- technically. But going and visiting keeps our alliance strong. She’s a good ally to have Kalryder. I’m the only one from the cult she lets in, besides Lilith and Magnus.” 

   He stared at Alistair, “Is that the only place you visit doing the winter?” Tone carrying a hint of... worry, appertain? 

“No, of course not. Why would that be the only place I go? I check up on a great many to insure they stay... loyal to our master. Don’t even try to paint this as something else Kal. It’s to keep our business relations strong. Nothing more, nothing less. 

   Bringing the children is an emotional ploy on my part that earns me, and there for the church, good favor. Mothers like seeing their children after all. Not to mention, women get attached easily- especially when they’re alone more most of the time. You know better than me how effective it is to play the part of a caring person. She, like anyone else, would be terminated on the spot should you or Bane ask of it.” Alistair grumbled, annoyed. Trying to stop any ideas of him having sentimental feeling of any sort for someone out side of the church. 

   He didn’t have feelings, she was useful, useful tools are to be tended too. Not loved, not hated but taken care of. He only loves his god and his cultists that work under him. 

“I see.” Kalryder, turned to leave. He could feel Alistair’s eyes watching him. “You’ll get this winter. I’m sure the Witch might become... irritated should you and the kids not show up this time around, with no clear reason or word. Last thing we need is a Witch coming at us. Come spring though, I’ll expect you to have a full fledged plan for this and to be ready to ship off. As well as your usual plans. Do what ever you need to do to make this an easy transition.” 

“Of course. I’ll see it done.” Alistair called out.

   Kalryder grinned looking over his shoulder, fondness in his voice. “I know you will, Wardien. You always do. Enjoy this up coming winter. Its only weeks away after all.” Kalryder opened the door, slipping into the hallway. Just as he was closing it, Alistair approached.

“Wait,” the paladin muttered, “Where are we planing to create our first settlement out side of Tarn?”

“I’m not all too sure yet. We can work it out and get some ideas going between us.” 

   Alistair nods with a slight grin, eyes alight with the possibilities. “Sounds good. Goodnight Kal.”

   He grinned back, “Goodnight Ali, do get some rest. We have a lot on the agenda tomorrow.”

“Don’t we always?” Alistair said, with fake exasperation. Causing Kalryder to laugh and ruffle his hair before walking away. More than likely headed off to his own room.

   Alistair closed the door. Lost in though as he walked back into the depths of his room. Letting his eyes linger on the city once more before he closed the blinds. The room now shrouded in total darkness. Taking blind but confident steps he moved to were his bed rests. 

   Climbing into bed he laid down, pulling to covers close. Only there was a weight to them, an unusual weight. With an exasperated sigh, Alistair leaned towards his bedside table, flicking on the lamp to see what, who, was in his bed.

   The light cause the small form to hiss and blink tiredly, “Dad, turn that off- I was sleeping” Alistair’s youngest whined. 

“Magnus, you have your own room. Why-” 

“Cause, your bed is better...” 

   Alistair stared at his son for a moment, knowing his son was content sleeping on rocks and tree branches. Clearly unamused that he was being lied too.

   Magnus, sensing his father’s growing ire chimed, slightly ashamed, “I got scared and Lilith keeps her door locked and I could’t get in. So I came in here and fell asleep. You were at your desk and I didn’t want to bug you... so I...” He trailed off, looking away. 

  Alistair sighed, eyes softening, “What scared you bad enough to come to me? Little scares my brave warrior.” His hand cupping the side of Magnus’s face, thumb brushing over the scar that goes up and through his eye. Scooting a little closer and turning Magnus’s head to look at him.

“It... I... I don’t really want to talk about it. Are you going to kick me out?” Magnus’s whimpered, his blinded eye closed and his good one half closed. 

“That’s fine and no, I’m not going to kick you out. Come here. Let’s get some rest. You’ll always be safe with me.” Magnus grinned sleepily moving closer and curled up to his dad’s chest. His father’s strong and steady heartbeat luring him to sleep. Knowing nothing would dare, not even the nightmares, torment him in his dad’s presence.  

   Alistair sighed, leaning and flicking off the light once more. He rested a hand on Magnus before pulling the covers over the both of them. Slowly drifted asleep, entering a deep dreamless slumber. 

        Well this is were I’ll end it for here. I feel like my writing has been improving. I don’t know, feels like this is an actual part of a story. I’m proud of it and I think the concept would be a really cool DnD campaign and world to play in. 

[mongoose-and]

Class Order Hall Campaigns: Rated (7.1.5)

From Best -> Worst

Druid

Shaman

Death Knight

Warrior

Monk

Mage

Warlock

Demon Hunter

Rogue

Priest & Paladin (Tied)

Paladin & Priest (Tied)

Hunter (get wreckt)

Reasons below the cut (Spoilers)

For the sake of discussion, I will absolutely be conflating the Artifact quest lines in with the class Campaign quests.

1. Druid - Druid's campaign basically breaks the curve by sheer scope. The campaign focuses on one major theme for this part of the expansion, and just expands on it beautifully. You are charged with protecting the Emerald Dreamway, rescuing Malorne, and eventually saving the Emerald Dream from the forces of both the Legion and the Emerald Nightmare. Between the beauty of the different zones, the massive gatherings of druids, exploration of Druid lore, and getting to relive the War of the Ancients at Mount Hyjal, none of the other class campaigns quite compare to sheer magnitude of history and lore that Druids get to explore. It also doesn’t hurt that Druid is an amazing class to play in its own right and each artifact quest is clever and interesting (except the Balance questline. That was pretty weak TBH). This campaign really made me feel the ‘class fantasy’.

2. Shaman - Close contender for being almost as epic as the druid campaign. The major theme of the Shaman questline is leading the Earthen Ring and uniting the Elemental Lords against the Legion, which is kinda like bargaining with a bunch of perpetually angry, murderous children to team up and fight Communism. Nonetheless, the shaman campaign has fun and interesting quests as well as insight to how the Elementals work (or don’t work) with each other, and they make good use of a variety of former instances and questing zones (including a finale in the Firelands that is beautiful and hectic).

3. Death Knight - Another top contender given THAT FINALE THO. GET WRECKT PALIDANS YEAH- oh, nevermind. Really, my only complaint was that the very end of the finale fell short (should’ve just let us do it, Blizz), and that it wasn’t Dark Souls Hard the whole way. Everything else about the Death Knight campaign was fantastic - raising the new Four Horsemen, killing lots of people, causing mayhem, Lich King Bolvar. Superb stuff, all the way.

4. Warrior - The quest line that starts meh, gets good, gets great, then settles back into “good” again. Sadly, I think it was a missed opportunity to explore the warrior cultures of the Horde and Alliance, and instead focused entirely on the lore and history of the Titans / Vrykul. For what it is, though, I think Blizz did a great job, and I don’t see the quest line they built fitting into any of the other classes nearly as well. It wasn’t the story that we wanted or needed for Warriors, but it was the best damned way to tell the story they did. Also, lolz Ulduar quest zone~

5. Monk - This is a fine quest line that falls short by virtue of just not being as epic as the others. It’s also the questline that convinced me that the Vrykul story only really paired well with the Warrior class hall. It starts strong by basically trashing the set in at the Peak of Serenity in Pandaria, and takes you back to the Wandering Isle (remember there?). Then it proceeds to utterly destroy shit in Pandaria at literally every chance it gets, which is great fun. Then you make God Beer and defeat a winged commie space goat.

6. Mage - This is where the class hall quests start to get a bit underwhelming, TBH. The whole quest line revolves around Archmage Vargoth being weird, only to reveal that he was possessed by demons. Honestly, it’s not great on it’s own, and if it wasn’t presented as a ‘mystery’ that we all could solve within the first five seconds of stepping into the order hall, it probably would have been more interesting. However, throughout the quest line, you do get some cool lore, elves, stupid Khadgar tricks, more elves, vomiting deaders, gaggles of elves, a blue-haired dragon husband, too many elves, Milhouse Manastorm, and a free trip to your most hated (my favorite) dungeon from Wrath of the Lich King, THE OCULUS! Also, so many elves... even though they are shit at magic.

7. Warlock - High School Drama: The Anime: The Quest Line. Seriously, you could probably make a decent anime out of just about anything that happens with Warlocks - the angst, the interpersonal drama, the cute/disgusting monsters they subjugate to serve them, the unlikely capture/escape scenarios, the pink hair.  It manages to be clever and more interesting than some of the other quests, but it ultimately boils down to a whole lot meaningless drivel and a weird “choose your favorite girl to join your cool kids’ clique” decision at the end. And then you have the orc who keeps leaving butt-cinders *everywhere*.

8. Demon Hunter - Basically you finish what you started with the Demon Hunter starting zone. And then you fight twins in what is probably one of the better finales of all the quests. However, apart from a cool finale and the fact that you get your own space ship, there’s not really much about the Demon Hunter quest line that really excited me. Demon Hunters are insufferable characters in general, Korvas Bloodthorn doesn’t get to be your bodyguard, and if you picked Kayn Sunfury then you spend most of the time being just as terrible as Illidan was. I probably would have enjoyed this more if I didn’t pick Kayn, but I did and I regret my life choices, even if the Illidari CANNOT be STOGHPPPED!!!!

9. Rogue - Good: Tactical Espionage Action. Pirates. Mattias Shaw is a dreadlord. Garona, Vaneesa VanCleef, Taoshi, and Valeera Sanguinar’s thighs all become your girlfriends. Bad: Trolling the AH for mats while Noggenfogger sits on his ass and blackmails you. Amber Kearnan dies offscreen and zero fucks are given. Getting killed in Stormwind repeatedly by Fury warriors (okay, I lied about that last part, that was pretty lolzy). Worst: you have to play a Rogue in order to experience any of it. Also, exactly one of the artifact quests are fun to do and it’s not the one it should be.

10. Priest & Paladin (Tied) - I have to tie these because they’re basically the same flipping thing, with only the artifact quests and maybe half of the actual campaign quests to distinguish them. I wanted to praise Blizz by showing overlap / interaction between the different classes, but they basically went overboard here, by recycling plot points and even the finale, altogether. Also, Netherlight Temple is a dumb idea, akin to moving NORAD into a base in Afghanistan because Al-Qaeda would NEVER think to look there (....well, until they do). Priests arguably have it worse because they don’t even get to be the hero of their own class hall mission (that goes to the Paladins) - AND you have to play a Priest for the privilege of this nonsense, which is arguably the worst punishment one can experience. Paladins, on the other hand, get meaningless choices and suffer the indignity of watching every single champion of theirs make fools of themselves at the first opportunity. Also, both sides visit each others halls, but nobody gets murdered in the process. Also also, wtf is a Lothraxxion and why - I did this shit twice and I still don’t know, he just shows up like a shiny sparkle vampire. Also also also - sigh - Night Elf Paladins when, Blizz? :/

12. Hunter - My beloved Main’s class campaign was also arguably the weakest and least interesting. The artifact quests are fine enough (though Marksman could have just dropped a bigger dime on Allleria than “she ain’t here, but she was”) but the main core of the hunter quest - while probably the most grounded and true to the Hunter’s ‘class fantasy’ - was a snooze fest compared to the other campaigns. The Unseen Path as a concept is cool but overall underwhelming to me - their super-clandestine nature means that they try to stay out of the way of cool things happening, but they don’t have the benefit of being a bunch of spies and thieves to have any intrigue to back it up. They swear an oath and then sit around a lodge and snack, occasionally plinking arrows at targets literally right in front of them. There are cool, all-too-brief detours when you go to recruit champions like Rexxar, Nesingwary, and Addie Fizzlebog, but even they aren’t enough to uplift an otherwise boring plot involving hunting down a felguard and his super felstalkers. In terms of scope and grandeur: If the Druid campaign was ‘class fantasy’ being used to tell an epic tale of saving the planet and exploring history with an army of allies, the Hunter campaign was ‘class fantasy’ being used to tell a story about how you did a crossword puzzle while on vacation this one time. On the plus side, the Hunter quest line has you play with a dog, and the Druid quest line does not.

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...

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...I take it back. Hunter quest line 12/10. Best quest line. Best ever. <3 <3 <3

Come on Baron! Let’s go~