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pengychan · 7 months

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[Baldur's Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 3

Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: M Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

*** Raphael is having a bad time. Raphael will keep having a bad time for the foreseeable future. ***

For three days and as many nights, Raphael remained, to put it kindly, asleep. To put it more bluntly, he was unconscious as a rock.

He didn’t stir when Isobel cast healing spell after healing spell, shattered bones slowly mending, gaping wounds closing at a snail's pace, nor did he stir when his bandages were changed daily. He didn’t stir with healing potions were poured down his throat, along with honey, water and some broth to make sure he wouldn’t starve before waking up.

He didn’t even stir when an especially kind-hearted maid took it upon herself to bring warm water, scissors and a comb into the room to do something about the mess of blood and matted hair on the cambion’s head.

“I’d have taken care of it quicker, if you let me slice his entire head off,” Dame Aylin said, watching the maid leave with the small basin now full of bloody water. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as she stared at Raphael. As always, he remained unconscious, but he no longer looked like he had some sort of butchered mammal on top of his head. An improvement, that. “Or crush it as I crushed Ketheric Thorm’s.”

“Now that’s something I’d love to watch,” Astarion replied, and Durge was suddenly rather glad they had decided to stay in the room, before those two got carried away and did something that they would… well, no, they probably wouldn’t regret it. It wasn’t like Durge would cry a river over it, either.

But in the back of their mind there was the unyielding grasp of Bhaal over his soul as he tried to extinguish their life, and Raphael’s broken body as Mephistopheles prepared to devour him. One had been a sensation, the other an image, and now they were mingling in their mind and their dreams until they couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“If he tries anything,” they had finally said, “you’re very welcome to have his head.”

“And mount it on the wall,” Astarion suggested, just as Aylin scoffed.

“Of course he’ll try something. He’s a devil.”

“Not anymore, if my theory is correct.”

“That’s a big if, my love.”

“Well, there is a precedent,” Durge replied, and felt just a touch smug when neither Astarion nor Aylin had anything to retort to that.

It had taken them some time to recall any details - so many of their memories from before remained vague - but they did recall learning of something similar having occurred once… and to another son of Mephistopheles no less. It had been Art Cullagh, still fading away in his bed but more peaceful than ever, to provide the missing pieces once Durge had visited him and told him about the situation.

“Ah,” he had said, smiling faintly. “It seems I can help you, after all. I fear I may have been trapped in shadows at the time, but a bard who came a couple of months ago wrote half a ballad about it. The cambion you’re thinking of was called Magadon Kest.”

As it often happened, the one bit of information was all that was needed to unlock more from the back of their still damaged mind. Yes, Durge had indeed read that name before, as they learned all they could about Mephistopheles and Cania, preparing to steal the Crown of Karsus from the archdevil’s vault.

Magadon, himself a son of Mephistopheles, had his soul torn in half by his own father. Mephistopheles had only released his son’s devilish side, keeping his human side hostage until a friend of Magadon fulfilled a bargain at the cost of his own life. It seemed a fate similar, if opposite, had befallen Raphael. His soul was ripped in half, much like Magadon’s, but it had been the human half that got away. Still…

“What would Mephistopheles do with half of Raphael’s soul?” they’d asked aloud.

Art had laughed. “Ah, my friend,” he’d said. “You’re asking too much of a humble soldier.”

Durge had left the room with at least one answer, but even more questions. Whether or not Raphael would be willing or able to answer them remained to be seen, but until he woke up--

“I hope you appreciate,” Aylin spoke up, snapping Durge from their thoughts, “that I am probably the first aasimar to ever stand in the same room as a cambion and not run a blade through his rotten heart. And I’m holding back for your sake.”

“I truly do appreciate--”

“I am barely holding back for your sake.”

“... Perhaps it would be best for you to leave the room? Isobel has been working really hard to heal him. It would be a shame to undo all her work,” Durge added, and Aylin snorted a laugh.

“Hah! Using the love of my life against me, I see. That is a low blow.”

“Well, I’m no Paladin,” Durge grinned, all fangs, and Aylin raised an eyebrow. Durge shrugged. “Well, if nothing else, he was the reason why nearly all of Shar’s worshippers in the Gauntlet were butchered. He didn’t necessarily work against us.”

“He certainly didn’t have them butchered for my sake. But yes, point taken. Loath as I am to say so, he unintentionally did me a favor. My imprisonment was a dark enough time without Sharrans coming to plunge their spear into my heart time and time again.”

“... I can’t imagine what that was like.”

“I think I can,” Astarion muttered, his voice a bit too light not to guess there was something else beneath - more understanding than he’d have liked, probably. Aylin nodded.

“... Yes, I know you can. Horrible of me to say, but it helps to know someone who understands,” Aylin was saying, her voice low. Her expression had turned dark, a distant cast to her eyes, then she seemed to shake something off and stepped towards the door, the ever-present armor clinking. “... I believe I’ll stand in the sun for a while. I did not miss sunlight as much as I missed the caress of moonlight, but I did yearn for it all the same.”

“Yes, I think I can imagine that too,” Astarion quipped, and Aylin froze in her tracks.

“By the Moonmaiden, I did not mean to-- I did not think before speaking, Astarion. I do apologize.”

A smile could hide a great many things, especially on Astarion’s face, but Durge had grown to know him too well not to see it - the painful resentment over the fact Aylin got, at last, to stand in the sun. His own taste of sunlight after two centuries had been brief, and despite their travels since he and Durge had yet to find a solution that would let him walk freely in the sun once more. They had been happy travels - they were happy - but no happiness is without some clouds, and this was theirs.

And it was enough for Durge to speak to Gale, quickly and in private, before leaving their small gathering. If anyone could find a solution, they’d reasoned, it was Gale of Waterdeep - but at the same time, they were not quite confident enough to get Astarion’s hopes up. Gale had seemed plenty confident for both of them that he could work something out, but-- well, it was Gale being Gale. Earnest, kind, but more than a little overconfident.

Yet he had good reason to be confident, most times, so Durge remained somewhat hopeful.

Unaware of their thoughts, Astarion shook his head. “Don’t apologize for enjoying all you can. Never. I know I am giving no apologies whatsoever.”

“... Very well. I am sure your quest will bear fruit, and I look forward to the day we both can stand in the sun. Until then, may the Moonmaiden always watch over you.”

“I, ah, I really rather hope she doesn’t. Not all the time. Some nighttime activities can be quite a private thing, you understand,” he replied, and Aylin laughed.

“The Moonmaiden is maiden in title only, rest assured. She will not blush,” she added, and gave Astarion’s shoulder a friendly nudge before leaving the room. Astarion made a face, rubbing said shoulder.

“If that’s what her friendly nudges are like, I’m happy we were never enemies. I’m also happy for her timing in leaving, really,” he added, tilting his head towards the bed. The groan reached Durge’s ears the next instant.

“Uhnnn…”

Ah, there he was. Durge turned to see Raphael stir under the blankets, and his features twist in discomfort before he finally blinked his eyes open. They were vaguely aware of Astarion slipping a hand closer to the hilt of his dagger, and they did prepare to cast if need be… but most of their attention remained focused on Raphael’s face as he blinked his surroundings into focus, frowned, and tried to sit up.

With somewhat predictable results, given that something like half his bones had not yet finished healing.

“AGH!”

Raphael let out a cry and fell back against the pillow, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut. The hand Durge had been holding up to cast a spell if needed went to grab a potion on the nightstand.

“Drink this. It serves to dull the pain, or so I’m told.”

Raphael’s eyes snapped open, and turned to them for the first time. His features twisted, and his breath seemed to catch before he spoke, slowly, voice hoarse. He didn’t even look at the potion Durge was handing to him.

“... Haarlep?”

Ah. “Er…”

“Oh dear, I really hope not,” Astarion commented, nudging Durge’s arm with an elbow. “Or I’ll have to ask for last night back. And then kill you.”

It was Astarion’s presence, more than Durge’s hesitation, that made Raphael realize it was definitely not his incubus sitting by the side of his bed. He bared his teeth in a growl and tried to stand again, but this time Durge was ready. A scroll of Hold Person and Raphael was pinned back, immobile and none too pleased about it… but at least spared the indignity of falling onto the floor in a heap of bandaged limbs. For now. He was not very grateful about it.

“You-- release me right this instant!”

“Would I get something in return?”

“The overly generous chance to run ,” Raphael seethed, either entirely unaware of his current predicament or very, very deep in denial. Durge raised an eyebrow and tapped their chin with a finger, pretending to consider. Astarion grinned.

“I for one would love to watch him try to crawl after us,” he said, and Durge entertained the mental image for just a moment or two more than necessary before they spoke.

“A tempting deal,” they said instead. “I’m almost sorry to turn it down.”

A scoff, full of contempt. “Of course, that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Raphael snapped. “Turn down perfectly good deals, proposed in perfectly good faith, to sneak behind my back and steal from me like the rat you are.”

Durge decided to choose another moment to breach the subject of their very different ideas of perfectly good faith. “I thought I was a mouse.”

“What you are is a wretched creature I’ll very much enjoy crushing under my heel.”

“Didn’t work too well last time, did it now?” Astarion asked, tilting his head. “And you still had powers then. I don’t fancy your chances now, as much as I’d love to see you try.”

“What…?” That gave Raphael pause, for a moment, and his eyes darted away from the two of them, across the room, to pause on the collection of emptied bottles that had once contained healing potions, on the rolls of clean bandages waiting to be used. He stared for several moments, as though not comprehending, and Durge turned to Astarion.

“Might be the right moment to let Halsin know he’s awake. No need for him to come in, just make him and Isobel aware. Discreetly.”

“Oh, please. Discreet is my middle name,” Astarion said. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get me out of this room.”

“I am trying to get you out of this room.”

Astarion squinted. “... You’re not actually his incubus, are you?”

“Not last I checked,” Durge replied, and Astarion chuckled before standing with a dramatic sigh.

“Very well. I will go, like an exile, to bear your message while you’re up here having all the fun. ”

Durge suspected they were not going to have any fun in that room - the part of them that enjoyed others’ plight had been mostly snuffed out when Bhaal had tried to kill them, it seemed - but they just snorted. “How dramatic.”

“Dramatic, me? Perish the thought,” Astarion sighed, but did squeeze their shoulder in a silent reminder - if anything happens, shout - before he left the room and headed downstairs, looking for Halsin.

***

“Look, soldier, I think this is a bad idea.”

“A courtly dance is never a bad idea.”

“I stepped on your foot something like seven times, and I’m no lightweight.”

“It was only five.”

“No, it was not.”

“Five and a half,” Wyll retorted, and Karlach snorted out a laugh.

“How the fuck does one step on a foot half a time?”

Wyll smiled, and twirled under her arm before pulling away, still holding onto her hand. “By getting better.”

“I dance like a bear.” Still, Karlach pulled him back and followed his lead again, trying to match his steps. It wasn’t often that they got some time to breathe in Avernus, with both demons and devils sent by Zariel to deal with, one wave after the other - but sometimes they could take a break and gods, it was nice. It was great. It made her stupid giddy and she got to really pause and see Wyll smile, which was a relief. She worried many times that he’d come to regret this, coming to Avernus with her, and she was ready to let him go if he decided he wanted to return to the material plane instead.

But he never did. And he never seemed to regret being there, which blew Karlach’s mind and probably would have done something to her heart, too, if she still had her own beating in her chest.

“No, you do not,” Wyll was saying, pressing a palm against hers and guiding her into a slow, circular motion. “I’ve seen a bear dance, and you’re far more graceful.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Halsin drunk on fermented fruit counts as seeing a bear dance. He just stumbled around and flattened Jaheira’s tent.”

“... I have seen another bear dance,” Wyll muttered, and Karlach laughed again. It still seemed so odd to hear her own laughter echoing in the hot, sulfurous air of Avernus. In the ten years she had been there before, she hardly had any chances to laugh. Now there were so many more, and she treasured each of them.

“Well, I’m your only available dance partner, so I’ll try to get better,” she promised.

Least I could do. You came to live in Hell for me.

Unaware of her thoughts, Wyll smiled. “You’re already getting much bett--” he began, only to trail off when something reached them both - a smell of sulfur stronger than what usually surrounded them, the very air around them seeming to grow thicker.

A devil was coming.

They broke apart without the need to exchange more than a glance; their weapons were never far from their reach, and within seconds Karlach was holding up her greataxe, Wyll had unsheathed his rapier.

But they wouldn’t use their weapons now, however much Karlach would have liked to.

“Oh dear, pet. It seems I’ll need to start sending a message before I show up, before you greet me with a blade through the chest,” an all too familiar voice rang out, as the figure before them stretched her wings. “It would be most inconvenient.”

Ugh. Mizora.

Karlach bit back a comment or two about where she wanted to shove her axe - her chest not being her first choice - and let Wyll speak. He was not pleased to see her, he never would be, but in his own words she had given him with a loose leash, and he was keen on keeping things that way. Angering her needlessly would work against them.

“Mizora. I assume you have a new mission for me?”

A smile, insufferable as always. “That I do! A big one. You see, my pet, you’ve been giving me a bit of a headache. I feel it’s time to solve the problem at the root before you become a liability, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Karlach snapped, hands itching to wrap around MIzora’s neck. Fingers around the neck, thumbs on her throat. Shake and squeeze. Oh, wouldn’t that feel good. “Wyll has done everything you’ve asked of him!”

A dismissive wave of a hand. “Yes, and he has been so very effective. I have no complaints. And he’s been also busy helping you keep Zariel’s forces at bay, so that you’re not, um, recruited again. I am sure you know that, with the Netherbrain taken care of, Zariel is more keen than ever to have you back in her ranks. Or, if you won’t go back, to have your head on a pike. It discourages deserters, you see.”

Wyll stepped forward. “I will not return her to Zariel,” he spoke. “I’ll let you destroy my soul before--”

“Wyll, no. I can’t let you--”

“Oh, please, spare me the moving and noble self-sacrifice, both of you,” Mizora cut them off. “That is not my mission. Although, you see, Wyll’s continued aid of you has not gone unnoticed. And this puts me, as his patron, on a tight spot.”

Wyll blinked, staring at her, and hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “... Does Zariel know…?”

“That you’re a warlock? Yes. Does she know whose warlock?” Mizora smiled. “She does not. She knows I am patron to warlocks, as many devils are, but most of their identities are unknown to her. She was never curious enough to check. But now oh, she is very interested in finding out who your patron is. And she will, eventually, if given enough time. Once she does… I’m sure you can imagine, she will not be very happy with me. Allowing you to run amok in Avernus, turning a blind eye to your continued assistance of a fugitive. Even if I had you turn her in now-- ”

“I would never--”

“Forget your noble soul for a moment and pretend you would. Zariel still would not be pleased that, for all this time, I let my own warlock stand between her and her prey. See, this is where our interests align quite conveniently. So, your mission.” Mizora waved her hand, and wisps of smoke gathered to show a face Karlach knew and despised - archdevil Zariel’s.

“I know of your little plan to break in her foundry and find a way to fix the tin can in your chest, Karlach, so that it may allow you to live in the material plane. It is not a bad plan. I think it has fairly good chances to work. However, Zariel will keep chasing you even there. You know she will. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a permanent solution? For all of us?"

Karlach laughed. “Yeah, right. The only permanent solution would be to take Zariel herself out, and that is… that would be…” A pause. Mizora smiled. Karlach gaped. “... Wait. What , are you seriously…?”

As she stammered, Mizora’s smile widened. A swipe of her hand, and the smokey likeness of Zariel was gone. “Ah,” she muttered. “I always thought you were smarter than you look.”

***

For what felt like a long time, but was probably about a minute, Raphael could only stare at his surroundings. He looked at the bandages and healing potions no devil would ever need in such amounts to recover; he took note of his every broken bone, of the empty chasm aching cold within him, and let the implications sink in.

It was no graceful sinking, no gentle descent under the waves in cold and silence: it felt more like the crashing of the floating cities of the Netheril Empire, stone hitting stone, bodies and buildings alike shattering into a fine mist. The people in those cities had seen the ground rushing up to meet them, and screamed and prayed and hoped, somehow, for a miracle to save them at the last moment. Closing their eyes, praying they’d open them to find it had all been a dream.

He’d thought it pathetic then, and he thought it pathetic now. The line between hope and denial, Raphael had always found, was extremely thin. He’d always despised both; he wouldn’t lower himself to resort to either now.

So he set his jaw, breathed out, and spoke with his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“I suppose,” he snapped, “that you have come to gloat.”

“... No, I have not. I did not come here expecting to find you.

“Where am I?”

“The Last Light Inn. Someone who looked like me took you here. I can only assume it was Haarlep.”

“Ah, yes. Haarlep.” Raphael sneered. “You came into my home, stole from me, bedded my personal incubus--”

“That wasn’t planned, I just needed the information--”

“-- killed me in my own home--”

“Didn’t kill you very dead, by the looks of it.” The rat leaned in to look at him more closely, and Raphael wished more than anything that he could move, that he had any power to burn that inquisitive look off their scaly face. “And believe me, I usually know how to kill someone very dead. But you know that. You knew from the start what I was, didn’t you?”

A scoff. “Who do you take me for? However poor Bhaal’s choice was, of course I’d know the face of the Chosen Bhaalspawn.”

“Former. My father himself killed off that part of me, though I cannot say that was his plan. What yours did, on the other hand, seems far more deliberate.”

The sneer on Raphael’s lips froze, and even the idea of burning off that creature’s odious face lost its appeal. He set his jaw, and swallowed before he spoke again. It felt like trying to force words out through a mouthful of ashes.

“What do you know of what Mephistopheles did?”

A shrug. “I don’t know for a fact what he did to you. But I know he had you in his grasp after we supposedly killed you - saw it in an orb of Infernal Envisioning first, and then in your mind. I know there is every indication your devilish powers are no more. And I know what he did to one of your half-brothers, once. How he tore his soul in two and only let him retain the devilish part of it.”

So, they knew of Magadon. Of course they did. For someone who had their cranium cracked open and brain skewered with a knife, the-- little mouse -- accursed rat knew an annoying array of things.

“And I can guess,” they were adding, still looking him in the eye, “that the half I am speaking to right now is the human one. Isn’t it?”

The empty nothing at his core ached, but Raphael refused to acknowledge it and forced the sneer back on his face. “What a display of obvious conclusions drawn from well known facts. Utterly mediocre, yet impressive coming from you.”

“That’s a long-winded way to admit you’re mortal, then?”

“Listen here, pipsque--” Raphael snapped, and instinctively tried to sit up just as the spell that kept him still waned. It took less than half a second for white-hot pain to shoot up his spine, sink its claws in his side, and replace what remained of the bones in his legs with shards of glass. He let out a strangled, utterly undignified cry, and fell back on the mattress in a shuddering, sweaty mass of agony, everything around him growing distant and dark. He dimly felt a hand cradling the back of his head, felt something being pressed against his lips, then there was liquid in his mouth and he realized he was thirsty, too, mouth parched dry as the Calim Desert.

He drank, and the pain subsided almost immediately, turning into a more distant and bearable ache; the darkness retreated, his vision cleared, and his head was leaned back on the pillow.

“Don’t move. The healing process is slow. You’re still severely injured.”

There was a harsh sound that could have been a laugh; Raphael realized only after a few moments that it had come from him. “What-- do you think you’re doing, little mouse?” he managed, turning to look at them. They still had the empty bottle in their hand. “You think it best to get me back on my feet before you try again to kill me very dead, don’t you? Makes it feel more fair, doesn't it? Like you’re giving me a fair chance.”

A scoff. “I have no intention to kill you, unless you give me reason.”

“Since when,” he sneered, “does the Chosen Bhaalspawn need reason to kill?”

“Since they defied Bhaal and lived to tell the tale,” they replied, unblinking and, most annoyingly, seemingly unimpressed.

“You tried to murder me before.”

“You left me no choice. You made sure our only way out would be through you. I did what I had to do.”

“You could have taken the deal, and received the hammer from my own hands!”

“On conditions I could not accept.”

“I’d have dealt with you fairly. I held my half of the bargain with the vampire spawn, didn’t I?”

“You’ll admit that taking down an orthon is several steps removed from handing you a crown with the power to conquer all nine Hells.”

Raphael didn’t tell them he’d walk back into Mephistopheles’ maw before he lowered himself to admitting a thing to them, but he rather hoped his glare was enough to convey the message. The rat just shrugged.

“We had no reason to believe you’d have stopped at ruling the nine Hells.”

“It was in the contract, you imbecile! Infernal contracts are binding, even the lowest lemure would know--”

“Ah, yes,” was the deadpan reply. “The contract written in a language I don’t understand, which I got to see for all of thirty seconds. The devil’s in the details, as you said yourself, and one should always check the fine print. Yet you were careful to ensure we could not check that fine print. Or any print at all. It was nowhere as subtle as you thought it was.”

Raphael ground his teeth. Everything about the being before him infuriated him, and at the moment the most aggravating part was that they were correct. Of course they were correct. I will remain within the borders of my kingdom means nothing when no clearer definition of the kingdom’s borders is set and you see any Plane within reach as rightfully yours.

“Either way,” the rat went on, “I’d have gladly resolved it with no violence. You acted much too rashly.”

It wasn’t often that Raphael was left speechless - it was, truth be told, an extremely rare occurrence - but this was one such time. The sheer scale of the idiocy on display left him struggling for words. “Rashly!” he finally barked out, and tried again to sit up. Pain flared, and he fell back with a groan. “That’s-- rashly! The rat who tried to steal in the house of a devil thinks I was rash!” A laugh, even as his ribs ached. What kind of nonsense was this? Was he still in Cania, perhaps, unconscious, hallucinating? He had to be. This made no sense.

A huff. “No more rash than signing a contract I couldn’t read,” the rat muttered. “And besides, our interests aligned. Killing us there would have meant letting the Netherbrain win, which would have meant no more souls for you in turn. I have it on good authority that Mindflayers make terrible clients. What was your plan to deal with that once you’d destroyed us?”

There had been no plan, of course. Only the fury of knowing the perplexing, aggravating, and aggravatingly perplexing mortals he’d thought he had finally reeled into his net were robbing him. That if word got out that he had thieves in his own house he’d be the joke of Avernus and perhaps of Cania, where few at his father’s court would pass up a chance to have a laugh of his expenses.

Devils of Cania were always delighted to see a whelp of Mephistopheles fail.

Raphael’s features twisted, and he turned away, to the window. He could see the sky, hear the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and… chattering children. Wonderful, simply wonderful. One of the things he hated most. All that was missing now was a litter of kittens under the bed, and his torment would be complete.

“I assume,” he finally ground out, “that you put the hammer to use.”

“... That we did. It gave us the means to free Orpheus and take on the Netherbrain.”

“I’m amazed you found it in you to defy the Emperor. I’m sure it didn’t take it well.”

A sigh. “Sure didn’t. The Emperor was no more willing than you were to compromise. Just as unnecessarily, I might add. We needed not stop being allies, but his mind was set. He made his call, and we made ours.”

“Ah, I see. So you killed it, too?”

“We lost sight of the Emperor when we went to strike down the Brain. I don’t know what became of him afterwards.” A pause, then, “I was always told that killing a devil in their home - in the Hells - means killing them for good. How did you survive?”

Still looking at the annoyingly bright sky, Raphael snorted. “I have a couple of guesses, neither of which I am interested in sharing with you.”

“Fair enough. I suppose I’ll get the same answer if I ask how you fled Mephistopheles’ wrath?”

That was a more difficult question, and frustrating in the sense that Raphael knew and did not know the answer. He knew how he got out of Cania; he knew who took him there. What he did not know was why. Someone who was not Haarlep and certainly not the debtor who’d given him the ring must have orchestrated his escape, and no one in Hell ever did anything out of the kindness of their heart. But what could anyone want from him now that he was less than half of what he once was - weak, near powerless, mortal ?

I am reduced to nothing, Raphael thought, the empty space somewhere at his core colder than his father’s frozen throne. Half of nothing.

What value did he have to anyone, what reason would there be to risk Mephistopheles’ wrath to keep him alive? He had no answer to any of those questions, and it ate at him. But surely, his mysterious savior would appear, eventually, explain, and maybe work out an agreement that may satisfy them both. Maybe the half of his soul Mephistopheles had ripped away was not lost; if Magadon could recover his lost half, then by the nine Hells so could he.

Unless, of course, no one came. No savior, no answer, no deals. Only unanswered questions and a lifetime, a mortal lifetime, of powerlessness. A blink of an eye, and it would be all over. Ashes and dust, a name for Jergal’s archives and nothing more. He’d die. He’d grow old and even frailer, and then die. He was slowly dying right now.

“... Raphael?” the rat spoke, and he ground his teeth against his own growing dread.

“Yes,” he finally snapped, without turning. He squeezes his eyes shut against the light coming from the window. “You’ll get the same answer. Spare yourself the effort to ask, and me the aggravation of listening to your voice.”

A pause, and finally he heard them stand, making floorboards creak. “Very well. I’ll let you rest. Isobel will be here to check on you, and I suggest you don’t anger her. Or the aasimar bound to her. Especially do not anger Dame Aylin, come to think of it.”

Ah, yes, the aasimar. Brilliant. This just kept getting better.

For just a moment, the thought - it may be more dignified to let the aasimar end me now - crossed his mind, but he forced himself to push it down. No - no. This was not him. He did not fail. He did not fall. This was a setback, that was all. There had to be a way to reclaim the other half of his soul, and by all the reeking Hells he’d find it. He’d take it back, take it all back, and he’d visit revenge upon his enemies such as the material plane had never seen.

But until then… until then, he had to bid his time. Survive. Recover. Plan. Even mortals were not entirely powerless, as the infuriating being by his bedside and their companions proved. He would pull together every scrap of strength and power he could still wield, until he could use it. And if that meant having to go along with whatever game the rat was playing, very well. He could do that, and wait for the right moment to sink a blade in their back.

Two of them could play that game.

“I can bring you something to read, if you want,” the rat was saying, and Raphael almost scowled before he got a grip on himself. If he was to play a part, he may as well start now. So he turned, looked at them, and forced himself to keep his voice even. No need to sound overly grateful, it wouldn’t be believable, but begrudging acceptance could be a start.

“... I would appreciate that.”

A nod, and they turned to leave. Raphael stared at their retreating back, trying to imagine what breaking their spine would feel like, then called out. “I know what your name is. The real one. If you’d like to know.”

A pause in their stride, a hand already on the door handle. “And I suppose you want something in return.”

He could reply he wanted nothing, but again, it wouldn’t be believable. “If this place has any decent red wine,” he said, “I’ll take a goblet of that in exchange, as soon as I can sit up to drink it properly.”

A chuckle and then, without turning, they shook their head. “I’ll get you the wine if the healer approves, but I need nothing Bhaal gave me. My true family calls me Durge. It will suffice.”

Well. That was a bit too much for Raphael not to comment on. “That’s the most idiotic name I ever heard,” he muttered, and got a laugh in return.

“Oh, it is a rather stupid name. Gale meant it as a joke, I believe. But it is mine,” Durge replied, and left the room without another word.

***

“I think,” Wyll said, after a very long silence, still staring at the spot where Mizora had been standing until mere minutes earlier, “that we’re going to need some help.”

“No shit,” Karlach muttered, and lit herself another cigar.

***

[Back to Chapter 2]

[On to Chapter 4]

[Back to Start]

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #the dark urge #astarion ancunin #halsin bg3 #wyll ravengard #karlach bg3 #dame aylin #mizora bg3 #haarlep #hell to pay

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th0w · 7 days

Text

ya no soi el verdadero

yamame kuando no exista el miedo

d konvertir en para

siempre solo un para luego

para ser sinsero

respiro, preparo el diparo y spero

tespere dosoras

x rotra no ubiera ni vistola ora

yaora m abandonas

bajo presion mejor m aprisiona

perdi la kordura sin una korona

kmo es...

kmo mexplikas kmo es

kmo m dises q es

kmo m dises q es....

son lastres iotra vez

gano elestres

otrabes kiero kestes

otraves kiero kestes.....

□kuantas veses pienso en gritar i termino kedandome mudo...x kedarme mudo....siento la mkeada d la jente sobre kda d mis guesos, t aseguro...□

soi fan d la forma enla q apila atila el jno sise enoja

kuando skribo el alma d mi kuerpo c despoja

ise transporta a mi palma dnde kalma aloja

ya sinkarma, yase mi kuerpo en el alba xq se le antoja

□laprofunda i misteriosa beyesa del universo, ila ermosa tristesa del sufrimiento umano□

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breathenbounce · 1 month

Text

THE KEST-SATION OF FLUCTUATIONS OF THE MIND

Since it was the last week of my summer, I took a trip to Lifetime Fitness in Bloomfield Hills, MI. I went specifically to take a yoga class, but not just any class. This one was taught by Jonny Kest, the creator of the yoga teacher training program I completed in December. I really wanted to see what it was like taking a class with him, and this was not just a class, it was an experience like nothing I have ever been through.

I didn't even see him enter the room. "Let's start with pigeon on the right side."

So we started the class in pigeon which for me is unusual. There were quite a lot of people there. Had to be over 50 for sure. We were then building a sequence from pigeon and it was a little challenging. Nothing too crazy...yet.

The energy level in this room was through the roof. People using their ujjayi breath and it was so audible. You didn't just hear the breath you felt it. Not physically like they were breathing on you, but if you ever got close to a dragon after they spit fire, that would be the best way to describe it. The heat in that room was off the hook. As Jonny continued to que us through the next few poses, he reminded everyone that this is a breathing class. He also played lots of classic rock. Stones, Eagles, Led Zep, and Pink Floyd.

The theme of the practice was "we have arrived." He spoke about arrival was a state of being. That if you met someone who truly has arrived you would feel different. You would feel them. He also introduced more poses into a flow that never seemed to end.

He said that most new students will not come back. We were 20 minutes into the class and we were still "warming up." He yelled at us to breathe, use our yoga muscles, and people in the room were hollering and cheering from time to time. I couldn't help but to get caught up in all the things that were happening. It was like I had left Michigan and went to some ancient land. I did. I went to vinyasa country. That what he said. We were in vinyasa country.

Once we were done with warm up, we were challenged to hold some poses for a long time. In the yoga world, we talk about the seven doors of vinyasa yoga. This door is called "stoke the fire" or "logs." It is when people in the class face their toughest challenges. The poses and the breathing can bring much discomfort. This usually goes on for about 4-6 minutes or so. Jonny stoked the fire for 10 minutes. It felt like 10 years. He was so encouraging though. At certain times, I felt like he was talking directly to me. If I can affect students like that, I would feel blessed.

The class was a spiritual and life changing experience for me. I feel so grateful to have of this experience. I would have told Jonny, but like a ninja he vanished.

If you want the challenge of your life, see this man.

Namaste

#mindfullness #breathenbounce #gratitude #yogainspiration #selflove #bpd #love #mindfulness #mindset #yoga #lifeto #miracle #bloomfieldtownship #jonnykestyoga

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booklindworm · 2 years

Text

Amatakka word list, part 5

hrugaag - gravel-maggot, a (not edible) worm found in the badlands on Tatooine, known to feed on rotting flesh - they made for a common insult (not gendered) [Galaxy Guide 7: Mos Eisley //translation by BLW]

hrug - maggot (n) [BLW]

huff - non-amatakka name of a member of the Darklighter family on Tatooine, Huff Darklighter, Biggs' father (m) [ANH novelization]

hukak - h'kak, bushes native to Tatooine that yield the bright orange beans used to brew Tatooine h'kak bean tea (not gendered) [Cestus Deception // translation by BLW]

hulu - mouse (n) [BLW]

ikkal, ikkal-ku - sister (f) [fialleril, January 10, 2017]

ikkalda-ke - older sister (o) [conjecture re: ikkalda]

ikkalda - older sister (f) [fialleril, January 10, 2017]

ikkali, ikkalli - little sister (f), (n) [fialleril, june 05, 2016]

ikkali-ke - little sister (o) [conjecture re: ikkali]

ikkal-ke - sister (o) [conjecture re: ikkal]

ikkelta - elder sister, oldfashioned variant of ikkalda and also an epithet of Leia (f) [fialleril, 13 Jun 2016]

ikkret - Tusken word for Ekkreth (o), (n) [fialleril, June 08, 2016]

ilana-khepa - Amatakka name for Tatoo II, one of the two sister suns of Tatooine, a yellow star (class G); lit: the following sun (the Hutts say Gi Dopa Gasha for both) [starwars.com/databank][BLW]

ima - veil, costume (not gendered) [BLW]

imer - 1 veiled, secretive, unseen (not gendered) [BLW]

imer - 2 first name of Imer Levrukka (Moonspinner), Kitster's wife (f) [DAV 4 - The Slave Who Makes Free]

ipa, ipa-ka - father (m) [fialleril, june 20, 2016]

ipa-ke - father (o) [conjecture re: ipa]

iskar - blood in general (not gendered) [BLW]

iskar-e-maru - blood and water (not gendered) [BLW]

iskarint - blood-ants, edible insects from Tatooine that lived in castle-like sand towers (n) [SWtOR //translation by BLW]

-i - "the small version," little, younger (not gendered, though usually (n)) [conjecture re: echuni, ani, …]

ittimma, iti - in addition, more than, also, as well (not gendered) [BLW]

itza - fire, cooking fire, hearth (not gendered) [BLW]

janek - 1 dunecat, a mammaloid species living in the deserts of Tatooine (n) [The Clone Wars: Crash Course // translation by BLW]

janek - 2 first name of Janek "Tank" Sunber, a childhood friend of Luke Skywalker (m) [ANH]

japrazu - japor seed pod, the soft insides of which can be used to make japor butter (not gendered) [Naasade DS 1 The Desert Storm //translation by BLW]

japur - japor tree (a Tatooine word), Tatooine tree, unsightly, twisted plants, quite rare (not gendered) [TPM //translation by BLW]

japurushu - japor ivory, wood of the Tatooine tree, it looks like ivory (not gendered) [TPM //translation by BLW]

javva - Jawa (n) [BLW]

javvatakka - Jawaese (not gendered) [BLW]

jedai - Jedi, the Jedi Order (not gendered) [conjecture re: jedan]

jedan - of the Jedi (not gendered) [Ben Naasade DS 3 Fallout]

jenna - 1 love, romantic or familial (not gendered) [BLW]

jenna - 2 name of a member of the Green family on Tatooine, Jenna Tenek, sister of Amee (f) [starwars.com/databank]

jerpa - jerba, a shaggy/smooth-haired quadruped found on the desert planet Tatooine, produced milk (n) [ANH //translation by BLW]

jerpatilu - jerba cord (not gendered) [BLW]

ji, jiir - see, find, catch, remark upon, care about (not gendered) [conjecture re: ji-kest]

ji-kest - 1 star-seer, way-finder, one who catches stars (n) [Naasade DS 13 Stories within a Story //translation by BLW]

ji-kest - 2 Jax Pavan Skywalker's Amatakka name is Ji-Kest Ekkreth (m) [Naasade DS 13 Stories within a Story]

jira - 1 unity, community (not gendered) [BLW]

jira - 2 personal name of Old Nan Jira [TPM]

juju or depu - kidnap, steal, take into servitude (from Huttese, jujuminmee) (not gendered) [BLW]

jula - 2 name of a member of the Darklighter family on Tatooine, Jula Yanome (m) [ANH novelization]

jul, jula - 1 flame, ember (not gendered) [BLW]

juntul - Jundland Wastes (not gendered) [BLW]

kai - yes, positive, agreement (not gendered) [Ben Naasade DS 3 Fallout][DAV 4 - The Slave Who Makes Free]

kaktru - cactus, on Tatooine specifically a small, bulbous cactus with flowers that are often used in food and especially in tzai (not gendered) [fialleril, January 02, 2017]

kal, ukal - bread (not gendered) [BLW]

-ka - male gender marker usually used after a name, as in ek masa nu lukka ka (m) [DAV 4 - The Slave Who Makes Free]

kari-amu - becoming a mother, changing into a mother, being pregnant or gravid (not gendered) [BLW]

kari- - becoming, changing to (not gendered) [BLW]

kash - currency that is accepted in Huttspace, namely Cho Mar, Wuipupi, or Calamari Flon (not gendered) [Naasade DS 20 Mirage //translation by BLW]

kashka - day, period of daylight or possibly a marked date, like a holiday (not gendered) [fialleril, November 27, 2017]

kashka-makkat - Day of Tricks, holiday centered on Ekkreth (not gendered) [fialleril, November 27, 2017]

kassu, kassu-ku - daughter (f) [fialleril, january 10, 2017]

kassu-ke - daughter (o) [conjecture re: kassu]

kattana - space!flax; stems were pulled directly out of the ground, which was back-breaking work, and used for mats or ropes or fibers (not gendered) [BLW]

@blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, if you feel I botched the translation/interpretetion of Ji-kest, please tell me! I think kest might mean star or stars (as seen from afar), or destiny, or a waymark

#amatakka #conlang #wordlist #star wars #my headcanons #Double Agent Vader #Ben Naasade Saga

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softpadawan · 3 years

Text

Liveblogging Jedi Fallen Order pt. 2

In the time between this post and the last, I have learned that the Mantis is basically a luxury yacht. And you've got this filthy probably-smelly scrapper Jedi on board with no idea how hard it is to get oil stains out of potolli weave fabric. It's Pretty Woman set in the GFFA

Greez in the galley, making food, having a crisis LOLOLOL

Ah, we meet Merrin! I wasn't expecting such a thick accent (why did I think she would sound like Buffy Summers? And why is it that the Nightsisters have accents but the Nightbrothers don't?) 🤔

I'm actually surprised there's anyone left on Dathomir, but everyone forgets the Nightbrothers I guess.

Damn that looks like Maul's lair. Wait, is that a GRILL? Was Maul a BBQ fiend? Is that why he looks like a bottle of extra spicy Tex-Mex rib sauce? 🍖

NO NO CAL, DON'T TALK TO STRANGE OLD GUYS IN HOODS IN SPOOKY DARK PLACES. THE SAME THING WILL HAPPEN TO A KID NAMED EZRA IN ABOUT 11 YEARS AND THAT DIDN'T TURN OUT WELL EITHER

Greez calling Cal "weirdo" again hehehe

Cal used Push... IT WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE!

I like how Cal periodically runs his hand through his hair in idle moments. Yeah, dude, we know your hair is perfect 🙄

STUMBLING UPON SOME HIDEOUS GIANT RAT-THINGS EATING A DEAD STORMTROOPER, JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE GFFA LOL

Gather round, kids, time for another one of Greez's cockpit talks *sits crosslegged on the floor*

I hope Cal knows to keep his ankles together and clench his sphincter when diving feet-first into water

Perfect hair, even when wet (of course)

I don't know what the actual gameplay is like, but in this video, Cal has a new poncho every time he visits a new location. Are there tourist shops on Dathomir and Kashyyyk where they sell ponchos? Is Cal picking up a new one every time he goes somewhere? Is this a souvenir side quest?

HANG ON TO THOSE VINES, TARZAN

Cal performs the Zeb Orrelios Double-head Knock Maneuver™ on the Walker pilots LOLOL Maybe it's a Lasat move and Cal learned it from his Master. Bonus: "I can't believe that actually worked."

CAL CACKLING AS HE AND BD-1 TAKE CONTROL OF THE WALKER LOLOL I FEEL YOU MAN, I'D BE LAUGHING TOO

The fact that Cal didn't scream and shit himself when Saw Gerrera suddenly appears on his windshield is proof that this is pure fiction.

Cal: What are you guys doing? Saw: Pissing off the Empire. Wanna help? Cal, with approx. 47 current missions, shrugging: Sure why not

OH GOD THESE WALKERS DON'T HAVE AIRBAGS OR SEATBELTS OR ANYTHING AND WE'RE GOING DOWN, HOLD ONTO YOUR BUTT, BD

Annnnd this is how Cal gets roped into the rebellion!

Cal freeing Wookiee prisoners just like Ezra does 10 years later 🥲

YIKES that Purge Trooper sounds just a little bit too horny to see a Jedi 😳

Holyshit that special attack move is incredibly sexy, I love it when one dude just rolls across the back of another dude. Just bros being dudes fighting to the death

Oh fuck OH FUCK CAL WATCH OUT THERE'S A SECURITY DROID RIGHT BEHIND— *Cal gets lifted up and tossed like a candy wrapper* I swear it sounds like he grunts "OW DAMMIT" when he lands* Where are your Jedi instincts man? Lol

Cal awkwardly accepting thanks from the free Wookiees is so cute

I love it when he smiles. I am so in love with this guy it's embarrassing.

HOLY SHIT CAL DON'T GET SET ON FIRE, IF YOU LOSE YOU HAIR I WILL FORCE CHOKE THE EMPIRE MYSELF—

Boy, with all this ruckus Cal's causing on Kashyyyk, it's only a matter of time before Biggus Dickus hears of this.

Saw's speech is putting tears in my eyes, god stop it man

Is... is anybody going to put those fires out??

"I'm a very positive guy. I'm positive that if I die, I'll be very upset." I LOVE YOU GREEZ

Second Sister, in a haughty drawl: Cal Kest— Cal, if he were me: AUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH! Stop scr AUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH! Stop screaming I just— AUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!

I actually like Trilla more than I thought I would

Oh hohoho she's getting Cal pissed off, I like that. "What would Jaro Tapal say if he could see his Padawan now?" ...maybe I've been reading too much smutfic, but that sounds like a line straight out of a smutfic. Now I'm imagining Cal bound spread-eagle and [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted]

Cal, fiercely: I won't let anyone touch them [young Force sensitive children] DAD CAL WILL PROTECT EVERY KID IN THE GALAXY TRILLA DON'T TEST HIM

Cal sure does squeeze through a lot of tight spots. It's cute when BD hops off his back and onto his shoulder or arm

Are... are all Purge Troopers this horny about killing? Is it a requirement? "Must be this psychotic and horny to qualify"?

OH SHIT NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN CAL IF YOU LOSE YOUR FKKN SABER AGAIN I WILL COME THROUGH THIS SCREEN AND yessss remember Jaro's teachings! Good boy (I feel like I'm raising this kid lol)

Squeezing through passages yet again. This boy has more in common with Ezra than he'll ever know LMAO Kanan now has TWO duct-spelunking gremlins to deal with. Everyone say a prayer for Kanan Jarrus

"I don't care if they're a Jedi, a Wookiee or a Bogling, I'm going to destroy them!" Props to the stormtrooper for using a non-binary pronoun for Cal until he learns his preferred one LOL "We may be evil fascists, but we won't stand for misgendering our enemies!"

Cordova, I'm getting just a liiiiiittle bit sick and tired of your obsession with ancient artifacts. Your name henceforth will be Jedindiana Jones.

Ba-GONK? Really? A droid named Ba-Gonk? HAHAHAHA

OH SHIT HE'S LIGHTING MY BOY UP LIKE A CHRISTMAS TREE WHAT NONONO

OH GOD WHERE'S BD IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO HIM I'M GONNA AAAAA CAL CALLING FOR HIS LITTLE BUDDY I'M SCARED AND FURIOUS

Cal muttering "these jerks" as he takes the restraining bolt off BD 😭

IS THAT THE HU Cal: Hey, I recognize this band. I RECOGNIZED THEM FIRST

Sorc Tormo, no relation to the Grandmaster of Sakaar I'm sure LOL Ooh what is this, a gladiator scene? Are we gonna see Cal in a loincloth? (wishful thinking)

OH HELL IT'S ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE MUTANT CROCOFROGS FROM THE FLORIDA EVERGLADES, AND THIS ONE IS ON MIAMI BATH SALTS

This scene would have been 9000% better if Cal were in a loincloth and knee-high gladiator sandals, just saying

Annnd the Mantis arrives in time to save Cal! Hoo boy Cere, you got some splainin to do

Greez, having another crisis: This is fine. Everything's gonna be fine

Aww Greez waking Cal up again for a chat 🥺 Cal don't be mean, Greez just wants to know what's going on :( CAL SAY SOMETHING, GREEZ IS POURING HIS HEART OUT TO YOU "You two are the best thing that ever happened in my life" GAWD I'M WEEPING PAPA GREEZ

Sometimes a family is a crusty old pilot with a gambling addiction, a traumatized former Jedi, and a masterless Padawan with more scars than happy memories

"That's a game term." "I know what it is." 😂

"I'm busy. I gotta figure out what to cook next." Getting some STRONG Italian grandma vibes from Greez

Hoo boy ANOTHER horny Purge Trooper (wtf is he wielding? It looks heavy and cumbersome) Purge Trooper, orgasmically: YeeEEeess! FIGHT MEEE! Cal: Not until you buy me dinner

"Electrohammer Purge Trooper". Sounds like a mixed drink or a funky novelty dance from the late 90s.

Ninth Sister is going to make strawberry-ginger jelly outta Cal and spread him on her morning toast 😳

Cal's boots are gonna be so caked and crusty after sliding through 10km of Kashyykian mud, Greez is gonna have to hose him down before he lets him in the ship LOL

GIANT VENUS FLY TRAPS oh boy Cal narrowly escaping getting vored again

Hollllyyyy SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT GIANT BIRD IT'S THE SIZE OF A SHIP Cal: What is that thing? Is is a bird? Yes. Is it a plane? Also yes.

I love Cal's little baby Padawan voice (Why couldn't they have made FPJ's Kanan/Caleb sound like that? Instead we got a Padawan who has a 3 kids, a mortgage, and a receding hairline.)

Hurt Shyyyo bird uh oh! We need Dr Bridger here STAT!

Awww Cal has a way with animals, too. I'd love to see him and Ezra bonding over their connection to animals.

Kanan seeing his partner and his Padawan bring home yet another injured animal: YOU ARE RELEASING THIS ONE GO BACK INTO THE WILD, UNDERSTAND? NO MORE ANIMALS ON THIS SHIP Cal and Ezra: But Kaaaaayyyy...

I KNEW HE'D BE HOPPING A RIDE ON THAT BIRD SOONER OR LATER (🎵 I believed he could fly 🎶)

OMG when BD runs it's like a cockatiel puttering across the floor at 100 mph HAHAH I would die for that droid 😢

Ooh costume switch in this play. Cal looks fucking hot in the Inquisitor uniform

Aww Cere and Greez have dinner lunch ready when Cal comes in, I love seeing families eat in the GFFA

God this is the most uncomfortable dinner ever. Cloud City dinner with Vader doesn't even come close

GREEZ HAS BEEN SALTING HIS FOOD FOR A SOLID MINUTE JFC IT'S INEDIBLE NOW

Cal don't be an ass, Cere is pouring her heart out to you... I forget that he's just 18 sometimes 🙄

(I just found out that Debra Wilson is playing Cere, no wonder she was so familiar to me. Also I love her)

"This Cordova guy's really putting some wear and tear on my ship." SEND HIM A BILL, GREEZ, I'M SERIOUS

"Dathomir. The one place in the galaxy we don't want to see any closer... and the one place we're trying to get to, Mr Frodo."

Oh HELL dead Nightsisters, this is even worse than when Maul called them up from the grave in Rebels, these ones are still juicy

In a situation like this, you can only do one thing: THE MONSTER MASH

And this is where I've gotta call it a night. I hope my losing my mind has been entertaining

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

Text

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part I

Just an idea I had after reading an awesome story by @waiting4inspiration

Notes: I never finished Skyrim. Also, many things I’ve written here are based on The Witcher 3 game, since the lore of the Series is not covering everything. Also, also, this story is inspired by a headcanon of mine about the Dragonborn. I will elaborate further in the next part :)

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 5785

Taglist: @yes-captainstark @stuckupstucky

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed.

Part II

_______

He definitely had to rethink his decisions when it came to helping villagers.

Geralt usually never hunted monsters that weren't on the information boards in towns, but when he heard the rumors in the tavern and the worried glances from every villager, he made an exception—something he regretted now.

He wanted Jaskier to stay at the tavern, but the bard was stubborn and just tagged along into the forest.

"Don't worry, Geralt. I won't get in your way."

The witcher didn't say it out loud, but that wasn't exactly why he wanted him to stay behind. Hunts with unknown monsters were dangerous even for an experienced monster slayer like him.

The Butcher of Blaviken couldn't prepare his silver sword with special oils since he didn't know what he would encounter. But from the rumors he had heard, the monster seemed to be a draconide, so Geralt used some strengthening potion on himself.

He didn't find any other clues, and the whole search for information hadn't helped at all. So he decided to just go for it. He would probably regret it later, but when did he not?

And now here they were. In the middle of a dark forest. It was almost nighttime, and Geralt and Jaskier hadn't found shit.

The witcher had left his horse in the stable of the village's tavern because the forest was close, and he didn't want Roach to get hurt in case the draconide wanted her as food.

So they had to carry everything by themselves. Thankfully, Jaskier insisted on taking their sleeping blankets and food rations.

"You know this could be a great opportunity for a new song. An unknown monster to slay, a dark and eerie forest, the Butcher of Blaviken..."

The bard appeared to be as lively as ever, Geralt on the other hand couldn't share his excitement. In fact, every muscle in his body was tense, and he concentrated hard on his hearing. The forest was whispering, and he heard a twig snap in front of them.

"...be something along the lines of Slay-"

"Shhhh."

The bard's expression changed, and he stopped talking immediately. The witcher unsheathed his sword and listened intensely.

There it was again. A shuffle in the bushes, the crunch of fallen leaves. A presence coming towards them. His shoulders tightened, ready to attack when the bushes parted, and a man tumbled before their feet.

"Oh, greetings, strangers."

Jaskier just stared at the newcomer while Geralt pointed his sword at his neck. The man was wearing the strangest armor he had ever seen. It was black with blood-red features and had pointy shoulder pauldrons.

It gave the man an intimidating aura, and the large scars in his face didn't help. But the way he greeted them and how he awkwardly scratched his head in uncertainty, made him look less dangerous. Oh, and the fact that his sword was sheathed.

"Wha-what an odd turn of events," commented Jaskier, who tried to hide the fact that his legs almost gave out when the stranger had appeared before them.

Geralt studied the man with a strange feeling in his chest. He could sense it. Something was strange about him. Maybe it was his accent, or the foreign armor, or how he looked completely calm when a blade was pointed at his throat.

"Do you not know what lurks in this forest at night?"

His tone was harsh, the stranger slightly agitated him, although the witcher didn't know why. The other just watched him for a few seconds, his e/c eyes scanning him. A shiver ran down Geralt's spine.

"I'm hunting."

Jaskier seemed to feel the strange atmosphere between the two because he said with a light undertone:

"Well, we do too."

The witcher gave him an angry look, but the bard looked purposely in another direction to avoid his disapproving eyes. The stranger's expression turned somber when he heard these words, and Geralt furrowed his eyebrows, this fellow was definitely strange.

"I assume you're a witcher?"

His voice was missing any disgust or contempt which surprised him. Geralt didn't respond, but he didn't have to because Jaskier, the babbler, took the word, as always.

"Yes! He is Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken. And I am his humble friend, Jaskier, who tells the world his noble deeds. And who are you?"

The stranger seemed stunned by Jaskier's cheerful behavior, but then he returned the smile and bowed a little. It looked weird with his intimidating armor. Geralt squinted his eyes. Was this man a fool? His adam's apple almost touched his sword now.

"Call me Y/N. I do not have a last name, but I come from Keizaal, a faraway land. And I’ve been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here."

Keizaal? The witcher had never heard of it before, and it disturbed him. All the studying he had to do when he was younger, but the homeland of this person was unknown to him.

Geralt examined the man closer. For someone who apparently stayed in the forest for a long time, he looked a little too clean. But maybe people from Keizaal had a different washing methods. His thoughts trailed off.

"A pleasure to meet you, Y/N," replied Jaskier and bowed in return, he gave Geralt a look and the witcher only hummed, although lowering his sword.

"What are you hunting if I may ask?" requested the h/c haired man while he absently watched how the moon appeared in the sky over the tree line. It was fully night now, and Jaskier unconsciously took a step closer to Geralt. The witcher had no problems seeing in the dark, and the stranger didn't appear to either.

"None of your concern."

Once again, he gave the man the cold shoulder, but Y/N ignored it. He only raised an eyebrow and grinned slightly. Surprisingly, it made Geralt's blood boil. That bastard's presence was bothersome.

"It looks like we need to part ways again, but it was a pleasant surprise to meet the witcher everyone is talking about."

He tensed at the mocking undertone.

What was that supposed to mea-

A scream disrupted the three of them, and both Geralt and Y/N turned around to see from where the sound came from.

"Jaskier," grunted the witcher, and the bard stepped behind him.

"The Nightwraith," murmured the foreigner, and his head whipped around to him.

"How do you know that?"

Geralt's voice was sharp and menacing, but Y/N didn't respond, he unsheathed his sword and swung it in his hand with practiced ease. His defensive stance screamed mighty warrior, and a shiver once again ran down Geralt's spine.

What is this strange feeling?

He could hear Jaskier's heart pounding fast with the help of his increased hearing. The foreigner's heartbeat, on the other hand, was calm and steady as ever.

"It might be best if you protect your companion."

These words were the last ones of the stranger before he disappeared through the bushes.

"What are you doing?!" shouted Geralt, but Y/N was already gone.

The man ran until he confirmed that the distance between him and the two others was big enough. He clenched his hand and concentrated on his Magicka. The spell for detecting any undead engulfed his eyes, and he saw the Nightwraith 30 meters in front of him. The ghost looked straight at him and once again screamed like bloody murder.

"What a shame that the ghosts here cannot be captured in soul gems..."

Y/N grimaced and decided to attack first. As long as the spell was activated, he was able see the monster even when she was in her ethereal form. It would decrease her chance of escaping and attacking the witcher and the bard. So he decided to charge.

"WULD NAH KEST"

A whipping sound erupted, and a familiar feeling washed over him as he dashed towards the Nightwraith with inhumane speed. The creature screeched in surprise and pain as soon as his enchanted ebony sword hit her. He understood the confusion of the ghost, his weapon was not from this world, and neither was he. That's why he was able to harm her even when she was in immaterial form.

He had fought against thousands of monsters, slew giants, trolls, werewolves, and even daedras. And obviously dragons. A mere ghost like the Nightwraith was nothing for him.

He slashed the monster's gown, and the cloth sizzled and turned to ash when the ebony touched it.

She tried to fight back, raised her clawed hand in an attempt to attack his head, which was the only part of Y/N's body that wasn't covered by his armor, but her claws didn't connect. His sword impaled her rotten body, and a howl full of agony erupted from her mouth.

A tremor in her body and the lack of physical resistance to his sword showed him that she was about to split into three copies of herself, but he wouldn't let her do that. The man shifted, ignoring how her body disappeared and then turned around to face her petty trick.

A fiery heat crept up his throat, and the ground shook slightly when he shouted:

"YOL TOOR SHUL"

The copies that appeared behind him got engulfed in green flames and turned to dust. With a twirl of his hand, Y/N rammed his sword inside the original Nightwraith's skull, who emerged from the left.

A wail escaped from the monster's lips when her body too exploded in green flames and vanished.

The man's legs buckled under him, and he had to use his sword as support not to fall.

Using two shouts so quickly after another had always weakened him. Even when his body began to adapt to his soul. Slowly he sat down on the moss-covered ground and took a deep breath. Exhaustion washed over him like a wave and he huffed.

Maybe they had heard the Nightwraith's dying scream because he could listen to fast footsteps approaching him. He only glanced into their direction, and when he saw that the witcher and the bard looked unscathed, he sighed in relief.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

Geralt of Rivia was fuming, he could smell it, and his voice clearly gave it away.

"I was trained to kill monsters; I am a witcher! Did you believe a mere human could kill a Nightwraith?! Be happy you didn't find it. It would have torn you to shreds!"

When he heard the insult, his eyes twitched, and he closed them. It wasn't a good idea to show them to the angry witcher at the moment.

After so many years with his dragon soul, which prolonged his life, his body began to go through chances. His pupils turning to slits when he was agitated was one example.

The fact that the bard had watched the white-haired man with a surprised expression showed him that he wouldn't normally react this strongly. Y/N shifted, and the clinking of his armor drowned out his scornful snort.

"Well, I am quite happy because I was indeed able to kill her."

He didn't see the witcher's expression, but the silence said enough. The corner of his lips twitched, and when his eyes stopped hurting slightly, he opened them again and stared into Geralt's yellow ones.

"But I'm exhausted now. I don't think I can stand up and return to my hut."

Jaskier exhaled through his nose and muttered: "with this armor, no wonder." The bard turned to face his companion, and they held a short silent conversation before he set down his lute next to Y/N and said with a lively voice:

"Well, since it's already night, let's camp here together."

"NO!" yelled both of the armed men at the same time. Geralt glared at him, and the other returned it with a scowl.

Jaskier eyed his partner suspiciously and then turned to the h/c haired man who's intense stare made him unconsciously lick his lips. Oh, he saw what this was.

"Come on. We cannot leave Y/N alone out here if he isn’t even able to stand up. We will light a fire and give you some of our food."

In the end, they both complied even though not without grunting and murmuring curses under their breath. Geralt lit the branches he gathered while Y/N peeled off his armor with skillful efficiency. His clothes underneath looked elegant, but they were dirty and had brown stains, which most likely were blood.

Jaskier prepared some bread and cheese that they had taken from the tavern back at the village and then sat on his sleeping blanket. The witcher watched as the foreigner and the bard started a conversation.

"How far away is Keizaal? I never heard of it."

The man took some time before he replied.

"I had to cross the ocean for a year to get to you."

"A year?! Mercy! Did you hear that, Geralt?"

He only grunted. Skellige was already so far away, how many miles had the man traveled to get here? That fact impressed him a little, but he didn't show it and just continued stacking the branches he collected.

"You look skilled with the sword..."

Y/N looked at his strange weapon, and Geralt couldn't help himself to listen carefully when the other began to talk about his life.

"From where I come from, men have no choice but to learn how to fight. There was a civil war when I first came to Keizaal, or Skyrim how the natives call it. I had to pick sides, and many people relied on me. Fights with monsters like the Nightwraith", he pointed to the heap of dust a few meters away from their camp, "happened daily. Your continent and Redania is similar to Keizaal in that matter. You can die anytime. If you're not careful."

The man had a longing in his voice when he spoke of his homeland, and his silhouette looked lonely. Then he laughed, but it sounded bitter.

"Oh, but there's one difference to your land. We had dragons."

Geralt stood up and turned to face the man.

"We have dragons too."

Y/N shook his head and dismissed the comment with his hand.

"I mean real dragons, not your pathetic lindworms. The first time I met one, fire rained down on earth, and a whole town was burned to ashes. Keizaal was in the claws of terror for years. His name was Alduin, the World Eater."

Jaskier's jaw dropped, and he grabbed his lute.

"Tell me more! I get inspiration from stories!"

The h/c haired man shifted to sit more comfortably and then started to tell the story of the most significant threat Keizaal had ever faced.

"...and that's how the Dragonborn slew Alduin and returned to Keizaal."

Jaskier's eyes were beaming, and his face showed a slightly scary expression, but Geralt knew that the bard just imagined all the things the warrior had told them.

"And then? What happened to him? I mean, you should know, you said you were his friend."

Y/N grimaced and let his rough fingers travel across his blade. He looked like he didn't want to talk about it, but in the end, the man sighed and just said:

"His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah. His humanity was gone, and only a violent beast stayed. His other companions and I had to kill him."

Geralt noticed the pain in his eyes, and he felt bad for the man who had lost his best friend. Y/N lifted his head and realized that the witcher was looking at him. He turned away in slight embarrassment.

"We should sleep now. I will stay on watch first."

The Butcher of Blaviken only nodded, and Jaskier sighed.

"Then, I will take the next shift."

He didn't like taking the last shift, but Geralt didn't say anything and just laid down on his blanket, facing away from the two others.

Dovahkiin. It really sounded strange. The fact that there was a place out there so different from everything he had ever known... It intrigued Geralt. Y/N seemed to have been bound to fate, too, at least in a way.

He regretted yelling at the man, but at that time, he had really believed that he was just some fool who tried to boast about his skills. But Y/N had indeed killed the Nightwraith. Geralt had seen the remains.

He looked at the shadow of the foreigner that danced on the trunk of a tree close to him. Since he wasn't wearing his intimidating armor anymore, he just looked like a normal man, who had seen too many people die and fought against too many demons.

Just like me.

He felt a strange bond between himself and Y/N, and he decided to try and be a little friendlier tomorrow.

He closed his eyes, and the only thing he heard before he fell asleep was the steady breaths of Jaskier, the man humming and the fire's crackle.

Hands touched his shoulders. They were rough and big. Geralt shivered when they traveled across his back and all the scars he had received from his life as a witcher. "What are you doing?" he asked when he could feel a breath on his neck. "We are the same," replied a deep voice, and it sounded raspy. He wanted to turn around, but somehow he couldn't. "The same?" He stopped short when a warm body pressed against his back. The person snaked their arms around his torso and touched his chest. Geralt felt heat creeping up his body. Laying in the arms of this person, he felt safe but also slightly uneasy. His heart skipped a beat when two lips touched his neck. They were rough, but the kiss felt like a feather. The other person's breath tickled his skin, and he shivered, although it was pleasant. "Both of us are monsters." The hands on his chest suddenly began to claw into his skin and ripped deep wounds into his flesh. He began to scream.

"..ralt, Geralt! Wake up!"

He jolted awake and found himself staring into Jaskier's worried face.

He grunted "what's going on?" his voice deep from sleeping, and the bard bit his lip.

"Y/N went to take a piss, but he hasn't returned, and I heard a roar, a thunderous roar."

Geralt sat up and rubbed his eyes with one hand. His forehead was damp from sweating so much, and he cursed the person of his dream.

"He didn't run away?"

Jaskier shook his head and pointed to the armor next to the warrior's blanket.

"He woke me up for my shift and then said he would be right back. He wasn't even wearing his boots."

He didn't miss the worried undertone of his friend, and Geralt sighed deeply.

"I'll go look for him. Stay here. Don't let the fire die out and call out to me if something approaches the camp!"

The bard was definitely not happy with being left behind, but he knew that was better for all of them. He wasn't much of a help, not when it came to killing monsters. And the thing he had heard out there was definitely one.

Geralt took both of his swords and sheathed the one made out of steel. With the silver sword in his hand, he began to walk into the direction Jaskier had pointed to.

He saw the footsteps on the ground, leaving a trail of dark spots on the dewy moss. He followed them, and they led quite far away from their camp to a tree from where he could smell the stench of piss. He wrinkled his nose and searched for other tracks, but there weren't any.

"What in the worl-"

He was still able to turn his head around, but he couldn't avoid a black thing that slammed into him at full speed.

The witcher was sent flying, and when he crashed on the ground, it took his breath away and caused his vision to turn black for a few seconds. A roar shook the earth and the trees as if there were an earthquake and a storm at the same time. His ears rang and he lost focus for a second.

A shadow cast over him and Geralt's blood froze when he saw two rows of gigantic sharp teeth with a blurry vision. An orange glow appeared, and he could feel the heat radiating. He threw himself to the side; any second later, he would have been turned into roasted meat.

His instincts told him to run, and he did. Shameful, but a witcher knew when his opponent was too strong. He still couldn't see properly, his head was ringing painfully, and his ribs and chest felt like they would explode, but fear carried him forward.

Thundering footsteps could be heard behind him, and a roar erupted again from the beast's throat that pursued him. It shook him to the core, and he was sure that this was the monster the villagers had talked about. The beast was growling, and he paused mentally. Did this thing just say something?

Geralt took a step forward, but there was no ground underneath his foot, and he tumbled down a steep hill. Stones dug into his back, branches tore his undershirt, and his head hit a bolder. It felt like his energy was sucked away. Everything turned black.

"I found him!"

Y/N informed Jaskier and rushed down the small hill into the dry riverbed where an unconscious witcher laid. He knelt and checked Geralt's pulse. It was slow and slightly weak but there. He searched with his hands for any severe wounds, but besides the nasty gash on his temple, he was fine. Or that's all he could see for now.

He pushed the shirt of the Butcher of Blaviken up and touched his torso. He was correct. There were some bruises right over his ribs. Fortunately, nothing seemed broken. He pushed and felt around some more until he heard a cough, and he stiffened.

"What.. uhm, what are you doing?"

The bard's voice sounded suspiciously like he was grinning, and Y/N clenched his teeth in annoyance.

"He bruised his ribs. It will probably hurt for a while. We should take care of his temple wound."

Jaskier whistled, which caused him to furrow his eyes, but he didn't say anything; instead, he stood up and roughly grabbed the witcher and threw him with ease over his shoulder. Y/N turned and left the bard standing there with a gaping mouth. What a hassle.

It had been strange. When the man had woken up six hours ago, he had laid somewhere in the forest, his enchanted shirt torn at the back, and his hands and feet were dirty. His fingernails were stained black because of the earth under them, and he had a raspy throat. He had no memory of what had happened.

The sky was still dark, and next to Y/N laid a fallen tree that looked like it had been broken in the middle with force. Wood splinters surrounded him.

He had used one of his spells to find the way back to the camp, where he found Jaskier alone and scared shitless.

"You're alive!" was his greeting.

The bard told him how Geralt went looking for him, and breathlessly explained that he hadn't come back. He thought the warrior from Keizaal had died.

Y/N luckily didn't, and they decided to look for the witcher in the morning. Or he decided, Jaskier was firmly against it, but when he taunted the bard to search by himself, he gave in quietly. He knew that it was safer for both of them.

While he waited with sweaty hands, Y/N realized something and discreetly changed his torn shirt. He also wondered how his enchanted clothes could be damaged to such extremity.

When the sun rose, they had begun searching, which led up to now.

"Isn't he heavy?"

Jaskier's question made him chuckle.

"Try lifting my armor. If you're not strong in Keizaal, you'll die before you can hear the end of the Dragonborn song."

The bard suddenly grabbed his arm, and Y/N stopped walking. Jaskier's eyes were wide, and his face had a pleading look when he practically yelled:

"A song? Sing it to me, please!"

He blinked slowly. When was the last time someone asked him to do that? Was it 50, no 80 years ago? He didn't remember.

The ring on the necklace he wore around his neck seemed to burn his skin, and a pair of eyes flashed before him. It had been so many years, and his heart still hadn't let him go.

"I can't sing well... But if you really want me to..."

The smaller man nodded profusely.

"Yes! Absolutely. Please."

Y/N needed a moment to translate the text and remember the tune, then be began:

"Our hero, our hero

Claims a warrior's heart

I tell you, I tell you

The Dragonborn comes..."

Geralt woke up 2 hours later. His head was still pounding, and his ribs also hurt, which was strange. Did his healing abilities not work? And where was his undershirt? Why was his head bandaged? He looked at the crowns of the trees and pondered for a moment. What happened?

"You’re awake?"

He turned his head and stared into the e/c eyes of the foreign warrior. His hair fell into his face, and Geralt thought that the scars in Y/N's face must have really hurt. Somehow he was relieved that the man was alive.

"What happened to the monster?"

Y/N furrowed his brows. He didn't seem to know what he was talking about. Slowly he sat up, and a groan escaped his lips when his chest protested.

"You should be careful, nothing's broken, but bruises can hurt anyway."

Geralt scoffed. "I had to endure worse things."

Then he paused. That's not what he wanted to say. Didn't he decide to be friendlier?

The warrior didn't reply, but his shoulders stiffened, and he realized that he might really be a little too unfriendly. But he was a man anyway, so why did it even matter? Maybe he got a concussion after that fall.

"Did you find me?"

He changed the topic, and when Y/N nodded, he looked away and hummed.

"Thank you."

He only received a pat on the back, and Geralt's heart skipped a beat. The man's hand felt like the one's from his dream. Was he thinking about Y/-

What a stupid thought. The witcher shifted and turned to face the fire where Jaskier sat and roasted a rabbit.

"Oh my, I had thought it before, but seeing you now... you look like shit if I'm allowed to say."

You already did.

"Well, you try and get chased by a fire-spitting beast."

The bard paused and exchanged a look with Y/N. He wondered when they got so close. Could people consider this to be close? Exchanging knowing looks? Geralt had no idea. He didn't even know why that mattered. Maybe he had really hit his head a little too hard.

"So that's what happened? You ran away?"

Jaskier was as considerate as ever. He clenched his jaw and then relaxed. Might as well tell the truth.

"Yes... I think that thing is completely different from anything I've ever hunted before. I wasn't able to see it properly, but it spitted fire and walked on two legs. The latter would suggest a wyvern, but the fire doesn't, and another thing was strange... I think it spoke? It said Gaan Vah Haas or something like that."

Y/N suddenly coughed. Both their heads turned to the h/c haired man.

"Gaan Lah Haas? Are you sure?!"

Geralt nodded, and the eyes of the man suddenly beamed. He blinked. The way the man's eyes turned into crescents had something... captivating.

His brain sputtered. He could only nod some more, his mind too focused on the strange thoughts.

"Do you perhaps know something about this beast?"

Jaskier continued to turn the rabbit over the fire, but his eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was silent for a while before answering.

"Truth be told, I only came here because I was searching for someone from Keizaal. He disappeared, and I was put in charge of bringing him back."

This new information made him regain focus.

"Are you implying the thing that chased me and tormented the villagers is the one you're looking for? It may have had two legs, but it definitely wasn't human."

The man shook his head and pulled a satchel out of nowhere. He put his hand inside, and Jaskier's eyes almost popped out when his arm entirely disappeared as if the satchel was much bigger than it looked. He retracted his hand and conjured a red scale. It was gigantic.

"This..." began Y/N, and his eyes held a look of melancholy, "is one of his scales. He's a dragon. Like Alduin."

The bard was still in shock about the magic satchel, while Geralt studied the scale from afar. It had a vibrating red color and beautiful iridescence. When the beast had chased him, he didn't see exactly what color it had, but if it’s scales were such a vibrant color, he would have surely noticed, right?

"A dragon from Keizaal?"

He received a nod.

"And you have to bring it back?"

"His name is Odahviing, and he's harmless. Also, yes, I have to bring him back."

"The thing out there definitely tried to kill me, I don't know about you, but that doesn't look harmless to me."

Y/N's expression turned dark.

"He's mostly harmless. But that's why I have to bring him back."

Truthfully, he was spouting horseshit.

All the things he had said up to this point, about his life in Keizaal, his journey, all were lies. He didn't travel a year to get to this continent, or more like this world. He walked through a goddamn portal and arrived in the middle of some forest he had never seen before.

Had he not met a kind but old soul who took him in and helped him, Y/N would have probably gone crazy. Or maybe he already did. After all these years, he wasn't so sure if that wasn't already the case.

Furthermore, he wasn't the Dragonborn's companion, no, he was him.

Or had been. He wasn't anymore.

After all, Alduin's death was 130 years ago, and everyone who knew his real story was already dead. Only his friends from the Mer side had remained. And Paarthurnax and also Odahviing.

Using his friend's name felt like a betrayal. But he couldn't really explain the portal thing without telling Geralt and Jaskier that he was the Archmage of Winterhold and he already said that the Dragonborn held that title, so...

That was also why he didn’t heal the wound of the other man although he really wanted to. He somehow couldn’t bear the thought of the witcher hurting.

Y/N used his friend as an excuse to not hurt the dragon.

He decided to spin a story around it.

Well, it was only half a lie. The thing that attacked the Butcher of Blaviken appeared to be a dragon from his world. The shout that Geralt had heard and obviously also had to endure was proof enough.

It was the Thu'um with which a dragon could drain the vitality of their prey. If Y/N had to guess, that was why they had to bandage his head wound and why the witcher's healing abilities weren't working for the time being. Besides the fact that the shout was otherworldly magic.

But what he didn't know was how a dovah from Keizaal could come to this world. The portal he walked through had appeared in the middle of the woods, but he had slain all the dragons after Alduin's death, so it didn't make sense.

Well, he would probably find out the truth in the next few days. And when he found the dragon, he would just ask them. They would probably also be the key for him to return home.

Y/N slightly paused. Did he even want to go back to Keizaal?

Most of his friends had already left for Sovngarde, and the ones who remained had been troubled by the personality changes he had gone through after his lover’s death.

Would they be happy if he returned?

Maybe I should stay... There's so much to learn about this continent and its inhabitants.

His eyes traveled to the witcher.

He would think about this later. The most important thing right now was to capture the dovah so that they could interrogate them.

"My job is usually to kill monsters. Not capture them."

The white-haired man pulled him out of his thoughts.

Y/N searched his eyes, and his heart stung a little when he realized once more how similar Geralt's yellow eyes were to Farkas's when he had turned into a werewolf. It devastated him but also drew him to the witcher.

Geralt was grumpy. Just like his love had been often. Talos, his heart...

"If I plead, will you not kill him? Or do I have to toss you a coin?"

The remark made Jaskier beam, and he grinned a little.

The bard was the complete opposite of the witcher. Maybe that was the reason why they were friends. Although it did look like the brown-haired man would just hang onto the other if he wanted to or not.

"You know the song?"

"Of course I do, there's not one tavern where I haven't heard it."

"You do not have to plead nor give me money. As long as that... as long as he stops terrorizing the villagers, I'll try not to kill him."

Geralt's voice sounded once again harsh, but Y/N could feel his sincere feelings, and he smiled at him.

"Thank you."

A silence fell over them, and Y/N was pleasantly surprised when the witcher returned his smile with a small but existing one. His heart skipped a beat, but he ignored it.

The atmosphere around them was peaceful for the first time they had met, but Jaskier interrupted it:

"So am I correct when I say that you just teamed up to capture this Odahviing? Oh, heavens, I just received your inspiration for a new song!"

While he grabbed his lute and began to mutter things along the lines of "Two warriors so great" and "Once upon a time, two monster hunters met and became friends," Geralt and Y/N exchanged a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously.

Maybe they would indeed become friends.

________

Wuld Nah Kest = Whirlwind Sprint (A shout that grants the ability to dash rapidly forward.)

Yol Toor Shul = Fire Breath (A shout that allows one to breathe a forceful blast of fire.)

Part II

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humminghalo · 5 years

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He llo my d ear love ly frien ds ! !

I apolo gize for my lon g abse nce , b ut I am so rr y for n ot be ing ab le to be the re for ever yone at onc e , n ot for my absen ce in and of it sel f .

I was car ing for my FRIE ND wwho was g oing thr ough a toug h ti me .

He is ok a y now tho ugh , he is gr owi ng as a bei ng on th is ear th and he is doin g so well and I am s oo pproud of hi m ! !

I am als o pro ud of all of y ou , my fr iend s . I am pr oud of th ose wh o hol d ou t throu gh ha rd tim es , I am pr oud of tho se who ar e happy and all ow themsel ves to be happ y , I am pro ud of eve ry sing le on e of y ou for be ing aliv e anothe r day . You are all d oin g so we ll . I am so gl a d yo u are arou nd . I wis h ever y sing le one of y ou all the luc k and happin ess in th is wworld . Thin gs ma y not alwa ys go we ll , but reme mber that you hav e a ligh t with in yours elf brigh t eno ugh to lea d you eve n throu gh the dar kest time s . You are so strong .

Go ah ead now , to be d , int o a new da y , or carr y on , wha teve r you are up to ! I know at hea r t that thin gs will be we ll even tuall y .

I lov e yo u , my ffriend s .

,.. ❤️

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amadaans · 6 months

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hello i am not back but you should all know that the author of the book series kest is in has confirmed to me personally that kest is, in fact, asexual and also in love with falcio. confirmed! CONFIRMED!

#i am still physically vibrating and it's been two hours #i feel vindicated #so many authors just ignore their fans or let them speculate but never confirm #but no NO sebastien confirmed #i messaged him on his website last july and he replied immediately but it got lost in the void #and he sent me an email apologizing because he found it in the void #and forwarded me the original response #i'm gonna throw up i can't believe this #kest m.#dyn. kest / falcio.

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bloojayoolie · 5 years

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Bae, Butt, and Ether: AWS D1.1/D1.1M:2015 wPs Qal PeR tSOnru Vasable weler /opebr QaCrcatrons n he test specimens for the longitudinai bend N d for tesing as shoOwn in Figure 4,8, PART B UARWptance Criteria for Bend Tests. The shall contain no discontinuities ex CLAUSE 4. QUALIFICATION bend AWS D1.1/D1.1M:2015 srtacer of the bend test specimen shall be for.surface discontinuities. For accep macroetch cross section specimens shall be prepared to demonstrate that the designated weld size (obtained from the requirements of the WPS) are met. (3) Minimum leg size shall meet the specified fillet weld size (4) The PJP groove welds and fillet welds shall have I8 in P mm measured in any direction on the in 1O mm-the sum of the greatest dimen he llowing dimensions: 4.11.3 Verification of CJP Groove WPS by Macro- etch. When a WPS has been qualified for a CJP groove weld and is applied to the welding conditions of a PJP groove weld, three macroetch cross section tests speci- mens shall be required to demonstrate that the specified weld size shall be equaled or exceeded. the following: (a) no cracks ens, the qualification test plate pis aw adur nondestruCtively tested for soundtness as A b) thorough fusion between adjacent layers of weld metal and between weld metal and base mnetal (c) weld profiles conforming to specified detail discontinuitices exceeding 1/32 in [1 mm), but कc 4.9.2.1 RT or UT. Ether RT 4 The entire length of the weld in rtst plas an discard lengths at cach end shall be cran a)4 in (6 mm)-he maximum Ce rack 2 NDT Before preparing mc Caposo that comer crack results from visib 3 tan oraqual to 8 in 13 mm] but with none of the variations prohibited in 5.23 ncchg or other fusion type discontinuity, then the 4.11.4 Other WPS Verifications by Macroetch. If a WPS is not covered by either 4.11.2 or 4.11.3, or if the welding conditions do not meet a prequalified status, or if these have not been used and tested for a CJP weld in a butt joint, then a sample joint shall be prepared and the first operation shall be to make a macroetch test speci- men to determine the weld size of the joint. Then, the ex- cess material shall be machined off on the bottom side of the joint to the thickness of the weld size. Tension and bend test specimens shall be prepared and tests per- formed, as required for CJP groove welds (see 4.10). (d) no undercut exceeding 1/32 in [1 mm RcenS with comer cracks exceeding 1/4 in (6 mm tmo evidkence of slag inclusions or other fusion typ xourtyshall be disregarded, and a replacemenl tey CiC iom the onginal weldment shall be tested. 914 Reduced-Section Tension Specimens se .95 Retest. If any one specimen of all those tested fails to meet the test requirements, two retests for that particular (ype of test specimen may be performed with specimens Cut from the same WPS qualification material. The results of both test specimens shall meet the test requirements For material over 1-1/2 in [38 mm] thick, failure of a spec- imen shall require testing of all specimens of the same type from two additional locations in the test material. -८२ 922 RT or UT Accrptance Crilc alification the weld s revcakdy RT 18 tin3mm)maximum shall apply formance with Clause 6 PartEor E and Ce R l Torm to the requiremCnts of Cles Ffor wbulars or tubulars FISWE 4JO Before testing, the least width and corre DO and face bends igere Yat men shall be heal alN rcnents shown a Fir sponding thickness of the reduced section shall be mea Sared The specimen shall be ruptured under tensile load Snical Testing Machankal eta Sd the maximum load shall be determined. The cross SubstAntially in Y wie 7ked the maximu alarDAY tional area shall be obtained by multiplying the widts otFace, and Side Bend a by the thickness. The tensile strength shall be obtained by 4.11.5 Flare-Groove Welds. The effective weld sizes 4.10 CJP Groove Welds diiding the nmaximum load by the cross-sectional area 1935 Acceptiance Criteria for Reduced-Section Tenslon Test. The tensile strength shall be no less they the minimum of the specified tensile range of the bae for qualified flare-groove welds shall be determined by the following: See Table 4.2(I) for the requirements for qualifying WPS of a CJP weld on nontubular connections, See Fig- ures 4.5-4.7 for the appropriate test plate a er (1) Test sections shall be used to verify that the effec- tive weld size is consistently obtained. 4.10.1.1 Corner or T-Joints. Test specimens for 4936 All-Weld-Metal Tension Specimen groove welds in corner or having the same groove configuration as the corner or T-joint to be used on construction, except the depth of groove need not exceed I in [25 mm] T-joints shall be butt joints (2) For a given set of WPS conditions, if the Contrac- tor has demonstrated consistent production of larger effective weld sizes than those shown in Table 2.1, the Figure 4 14 The test specimen shall be tested in co metal used formance with ASTM A370, Mechanical Testing of Stee dizcne lorhe spain i beomes Ushapel The eldal HAZS entcred and completely ithin the etArtion Contractor may establish such larger effective weld sizes by qualification. 494 Macroetch Test. The weld test specimens Shall tion A suitable solution shall be used for etching to prepared with a finish suitable for macroetch exami Products e lmcn after lestine When aige WIp uToand pg be pecimen shte firealy clarr c0 006 end so that there is no sliding of the specimcs daing Ctee bending opeTation. The wcld and HAZ hall e com pletely in the bent portion of the speciane after testing (3) Qualification required by (2) shall consist of sec- tioning the radiused member, normal to its axis, at midlength and ends of the weld. Such sectioning shall be made on a number of combinations of material sizes 4.11 PJP Groove Welds 4.11.1 Type and Number of Specimens to be Tested. The type and number of specimens that shall be tested to qualify shall be made using the type of groove design and WPS to be used in construction, except the depth of groove need not exceed I in (25 mm]. For the macroetch test required below, any steel of Groups I, II, and III of Table 3.1 may be used to qualify the weld size on any steels or combina- tion of steels in those groups. If the PJP groove weld is to be used for corner or T-joints, the butt joint shall have a temporary restrictive plate in the plane of the square face to simulate the T-joint configuration. The sample welds 4941 Acceptance Criteria for Macroetch a clear definition of the weld. For acceptable qualification, the test specimen, M Test specimens shall be reroved troa tePi ta the Outer rolll has been moved I80Ptiom the stardingA reguirements a WPS are shown in Table 4.3. A sample weld representative of the range used by the Contractor in construction. inspected visually, shall conform to the follow 49.3.2 Longitudinal Bend Sprcdinens Whea mte nal combinations diffier markedly in mectamica teading properties, as between wo bee materials or hancen the weld metal and the base meta! kaggi l cad kests ace and root) may be used i Licu of the traserse ace and root bend tests The weldedtest acseabices contorm ing to 4.9.2 shall have test speciaies prrd y candting PIP groove welds; the actual weld size shal cqual to or greater than the specified weld size, (B). (2) Fillet welds shall have fusion to the root of 4.12 Fillet Welds 4.12.1 Type and Number of Specimens. Except mitted elsewhere in Clause 4, the type and number of specimens that shall be tested to qualify shall be tested as follows: as per- let weld and/or multiple-pass fillet weld WPS are shown in Table 4.4. Qualification testing may be for either a the test plate as shown in Figure 46or 4 wichevser is joint, but not necessarily beyond, 4.11.2 Weld Size Verification by Macroetch. For WPSS which conform in all respects to Clause 4, three single-pass fil- single-pass fillet weld or multiple-pass fillet weld or both. a 12 4.12.2 Fillet Weld Test. A fillet welded T-joint, shown in Figure 4.15 for plate or Figure as bel L# Geratry Gbriation We I'm just tryna get some work done

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