#taken bugbear

[fideidefenswhore]

reading alison weir's new novel; she's adapted and altered the primary source material she's clearly using in a way that is...um. something?

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: X-Files Species: Bugbear, Kitsune, Lamia, Balam, Siren Status: OPEN

Photos of you are always out of focus, and your footprints look kind of weird. You’re not sure why or how, but a string of coincidences has led to you becoming one of Wicked’s Rest’s many cryptids. You’ve garnered quite a bit of attention, even being the subject of some Club Cryptid’s meets, though no one can seem to agree on any of the facts. You’re not really even sure about the facts yourself. You’re adored by some and feared by others, and people are out looking for you and unknowingly trying to prove your existence. You’re starting to think that the wrong kind of attention can be deadly.

VIEW OPEN SHIFTER SKELETONS

[momolady]

Jasper the Bugbear

First story of the year and I'm giving ya'll a double decker one to set off the year right! This story feature intrigue, espionaige, fucking over the rich, and a cozy bookstore featuring a very handsome bugbear. Female Main Character: Male Monster (both cis)

The letter arrived first thing in the morning, delivered into my hands by someone who whisked away as quickly as they appeared. I had been hunkered down in this small town waiting on this for a while now.

“Geez,” I mumbled over the letter. “Who did they let write this thing?” I squinted over the paper, trying to decipher some of the illegible handwriting. I scoffed, pulling back and rubbing the bridge of my nose. I’d been restless waiting for this thing to come in. I had been placed here for a while now in an attempt to blend in. I posed myself in town, scouting things out, selling trinkets under the guise of charity. I was growing bored with it, not many of the people I had been charged with finding were the type to just go out into the market.

“Dear Caranina,” the letter started off.

“Not my name,” I grumbled. In a bit of spite, I took my own quill and scraped it out, writing ‘Carina’ over it.

“We know you have been waiting long to wehdhjfjfhshj from us. It has taken us quite a while to jshdjhkfjihf and ahdfhrjhuidhh in order to assure your mission runs smoothly.”

You scoffed under your breath. “Were they writing this letter under siege?”

“The festival coming up is the start. While the festival is important there is also a banquet the the aedkfehkjekhkdj family of the ajhdhfkjhdjkd holds every year. It is important that you Caranina-” I scratched that out again, “-must attend the jkfgkjjfeuedhus banquet. This may require you attaining a date from those on the guest list. We have provided to you a guest list, sent to us from another scout in the city.”

“Please let someone else have written that list,” Iyou muttered under myyour breath.

“We have provided it below for you.”

IYou leaned back in Myyour chair and rubbed the bridge of my nose up and down. I took in a deep breathbreat to quelel the frustration bubbling in my gut. “It’s fine. It’s fine, surely I can read one of them.”

“It is imperative you find your way into this party. We will contact you again soon with details of our target, most of which should already be known to you. Warmest regards hdfjjfdkhfeljirorhfdhjjd.”

“Great, I’ll have to tell hdfjjfdkhfeljirorhfdhjjd their hand writing sucks,” I mumbled under my breath.

Below was the supposed list of names, most, if not all of them, were illegible and wonky. I could only make out a few of them. I recognized one, a miracle in its own right. The fellow worked at a bookstore in town. Jasper Synclayr Humbeclaw, a bugbear, and a real smart guy type who seemed to have his fingers in a lot of pies and has done well for himself financially. His intellect could easily be mistaken due to his imposing figure. But I can’t help but think that is why the upper echelon like him so much. An oddity is one thing, an educated oddity is another.

I walked into his bookstore first thing that morning. It was dark outside still, the sun had risen but the clouds had not parted and were growing heavier and thicker by the moment. I could smell the rain that was to come, and I knew if it came, I could extend my visit with Jasper that much longer without it seeming odd.

“I thought I heard the bell.”

I looked up from the book in my hand to see Jasper standing there. Tall, imposing, and dressed very well. His fur was well groomed, his beard trimmed to give the illusion of an extra sharp jawline. Thick brows that gave an air of distinguished intelligence. He certainly looked the part of a bookstore keep.

“Good morning.” He set a thick stack of books down upon the counter. “Are you looking for anything in particular today?”

Just you, I thought to myself. “No, thank you.” I was at least sincere there. “I wanted to look around for a bit. I’ve always walked by the shop but I’ve never been inside.” I smiled politely, at least I didn’t have to fake much. The guild knew what it was doing, sending me in after all.

Jasper nodded, gently taking off his glass. “Yes, I’ve seen you around the last few weeks. You’ve been selling jewelry around town, haven'tahven’t you?”

“Prayer beads and religious charms,” I corrected with a bright smile. “Something to send back to the monastery.” A tiny lie. I was keeping the money.

He nodded, using a small cloth to wipe off his glasses. “What’s the monastery?”

I thought quickly. “Esmeraude Monastery. It’s far, far up north. Very snowy, very cold.” I wasn’t lying when I said it was going to Esmeraude, it’s my last name, and I did live up north as a child.

Jasper placed his glasses back on. “Sounds like a beautiful place,” he chuckled softly. “Well, don’t let me bother you. Books are meant to be perused, so enjoy yourself. Should you need any help, I’ll be around.” He picked up the stack of books and walked out behind the counter, disappearing behind a row of mahogany shelves.

Thunder rumbled outside and I smiled excitedly. The bigger the storm, the more likely I would have to linger inside. Not that I would mind, there were worse placesd to get trapped in than a bookstorebook store.

I wandered around to appear nonchalant at first. I looked through books, easing my way closer to where Jasper was working. I found him close to the back, taking books down from a shelf he was cleaning. Thunder growled low in the distance again, and Jasper turned his head slightly, spotting me.

“Sounds like a storm is coming,” he says.

“Such things do happen when one is busy,” I tutted. “I hope you don’t mind me getting caught here if it does.”

“Not at all. I would hate for a lovely lady such as yourself to get caught in that mess.” He wiped down the top of a book and sets it back upon the shelf.

I was a bit surprised by his comment. It made my cheeks flush ever so slightly. “Thank you.” I inched in even closer. “Would be a shame if the rain continued into the festival though.”

“True,” he sighed. “The people do look forward to it.” He turned a book over in his hands, inspecting the cover as if something was wrong. “Have you ever attended the festival here? It’s quite the event.” He set the book back upon the shelf after his thorough inspection.

“Afraid not. This is my first time here. I am excited to attend and see everything first hand for myself.” I reached for the exact same book as Jasper, causing our hands to collide. I notice how large his are, in comparison to mine. It shouldn’t have been surprising, after all, he stood head and shoulders over me. But his hands, to my surprise, were quite marvelous.

Jasper gently recoiled. “I beg your pardon, Miss.”

“No harm done.” I took the book, opening the pages. “Cara.”

His brow pinched.

“My name. You don’t need to call me Miss,” I chuckled.

He nodded, a slight smile appearing on his lips that curved up past his tusks. “Nice to meet you, Cara.” The way he said my name had a low, deep growl to it. My reaction of excited heartbeats surprised me.

I ducked back down into the book to hide my blush, but perhaps that would help me. “I heard someone say there was a banquet at the festival. I’m sure that's the highlight of the event.”

“Well, for some I’m sure,” he said hesitantly.

I looked up from my book. “What do you mean? Is the town full of horrible cooks?”

His smile returned, brighter and larger. He laughed and shook his head as for the first time he turned to fully face me. “There is a banquet, just for a select few I am afraid.”

“Which select?” I asked knowingly, offering him back the book in my clutches.

He took the book, his fingers brushing against mine again. “From tThe sound of your tone, I take it you can already tell.”

“The big wigs of the town have their own celebration away from the commoners?” I glanced back, seeing that rain hadhas begun splattering against the window.

“Would you want them to mingle?” Jasper said with a laugh.

A slight twinge of resentment came from that remark. Whether he was joking or trying to make some commentary, it came off wrong. “Are you suggesting the two should not? Because you are talking to the wrong person when it comes to such things.”

The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and the way his broad shoulders tensed I could tell I had struck a frightened nerve. “No I-”

“It’s a shame to me that there is such disparity as to create a sense of them and us,” I continued. “That money and class should separate people who are all the same when laid open. What good is wealth when there is suffering of your own kind? It is a shame. A sham really. A lie told to people to make them feel superior, when any number of the supposed wealthy are probably worse and more classless than the supposed brutes and commoners they’re trying to separate themselves from.”

His eyes are glassy, wide and surprised.

I huffed and shook my head. “If you let it, money will take your soul. I fully believe it!”

Jasper hung his head, looking disparaged. “I am sorry, Mis…Cara. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

“You live and work in a part of the town that’s profitable, that’s marked in high regard by these elites. I suppose you wouldn’t know what to mean.”

It was quietquite for a long moment and the storm came in, with howling winds and growling thunder to fill the silence.

“You’re right,” Jasper let out a breathy laugh. “It has been a long time since I looked beyond my own comfortable place. I should know better than to joke.”

I gave him a soft look. “At least you can recognize . Iit.” There was something about him, I’m not sure, but I do think I could like him.“I hope I didn’t frighten you too badly. You looked like a kitten being barked at.”

Jasper smiled. “Hard lessons are my favorite to learn. Sometimes a fellow needs to be reeducated, I should thank you for the fright.”

My heart leapt into a quicker pace, and a genuine grin grew. Oh no. Perhaps I already do like him. “Think nothing of it,” I laughed it off. “In my line of work, it’s a constant thought.”

“I’m sure.” He knelt to get something from the floor then stood back erect. “Do you have any of your wares with you? Perhaps I could sell some here in the shop. I’ll match whatever is sold so you can send double back to your monastery.”

“Oh uh-” Guilt hit me like a sack of bricks. “No. Uhm…it wouldn’t oh-” What do I say to this? Think Cara think!

“Or-” Jasper’s tone went distant and I saw in his golden eyes that he became lost in thought. “I know there is always some sort of argument over the charities my friends give to. They’re always trying to one up each other.”

I held my breath, surely he wasn’t going to suggest what I was thinking. “Friends?” My voice cracked.

Jasper’s glance twitched my way, and his usual expression returned. “Oh sorry. The banquet coming up, there’s always some form of competition about what charity they’re giving too.”

I frowned at him and he shrugged.

“I know. It’s ridiculous. But it’s something they sincerely try to one up each other on. Perhaps you could take advantage of that.”

It wouldn’t be the only thing I’d take advantage of that evening. But wait…what? Did he really suggest it?

“Come with me. I usually don’t have a date for these evenings, so it might be fun.”

I was gobsmackedgodsmacked. How did it turn out to be that easy? I thought I’d have to seduce him first! “You’re serious?” I gawked. “You’re inviting me, just like that?”

Jasper just smiled. “If it helps your monastery.”

My gut was frothing in confusion over how to feel about this. But, I succeeded, I would be going to banquet!

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Jasper turned back to the shelf, loading it up with books again. “Don’t think of it that way. You’ll be my guest. I’d be honored to have such a lady as you with me that evening. Besides, I call them friends, but I do find them all quite boring.”

I bit down on my lip. “What makes you think I’m not?”

Jasper chuckled and looked back over his shoulder at me. “I have a sense about these things, Ms. Cara.”

The blush rose up to my cheeks, tingling slightly from his expression alone. I can’t catch feelings for Jasper, not when this mission is against the people he associates with. Bad move, Cara, you know better!

Despite this, I decided it would be smart to gather knowledge from Jasper. After all, if I was going to this banquet, I wanted to know what I was up for. I could gather information about him, send back some of my findings in advance. There were a few of the banquet attendees we were after, so anything and everything was helpful.

I returned to Jasper’s bookstore the next day and the next under the guise of nervousness for the party. He seemed glad to see me each day, inviting me in, chatting with me, I even helped him dust shelves and tend to misplaced books. He shared tea with me, even invited me for dinner one evening.

“I feel I am taking advantage,” I told him. It was the truth. I was starting to grow a gnawing sense of guilt. But this was my mission after all, and it was my fault for growing attached to Jasper.

“Not at all. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend over that I enjoyed.” Jasper filled my tea cup then returned to the stove to deal with the food.

I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment. “You don’t like any of these people you deal with, do you?” I finally asked. “The way you’ve spoken about them recently… I’m sorry if I’ve taken this all wrong, but you don’t sound very fond of them.”

Jasper sighed heavily. “There is some truth to what you say. Most of them I know would rather take me or leave me. Some I don’t have much respect for.” He covered a pot then came to sit back down at the table with me.

“Then why associate with them?”

Jasper scoffed. “You want to know the truth? To keep them coming to the shop so I can get their money.”

I smiled despite myself. “So you’re playing the long con?”

Jasper had been raisingrising his teacup to his lips but he set it back down. “Not a con, exactly. They are getting exactly what they pay for but-” He huffed and took off his glasses. “I know if I don’t associate with them, create some sort of fashion out of the experience, I wouldn’t make ends meet, let alone maintain the life I do have.”

“A grifter then,” I teased. Under the table I felt his foot tap against my leg in a playful kick. It was a move I was not expecting, nor was I prepared for the reaction it would give me.

“We do what we can to survive,” Jasper said in a low, whisper-like murmur. “And I do not wish to go back to my former method of survival.”

This shift in tone bristled the hairs on the back of my neck. “You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to ask for a follow up.” I gave him a soft smile to urge his story forward. “What was survival for you before the bookstore?”

Jasper glanced away, his eyes flickering towards the door to the next room. He stood and waved his hand for me to follow. “I’ll show you.” He took me into a parlor-like room with nice furniture and everything was a varying shade of deep green or gold. On the wall over the stone fireplace was a sword of grand size. The blade glinted gold in the light of the fire, and the handle was wrapped up, covered by thick woven bands.

Now, I am not a strong person at all, by far I’m the weakest of my group physically. The sword on the wall was daunting for me, but I could tell it would give most members of my guild some extreme effort to raise. This was the sword of no mere fighter. No, this sword belonged to another type of creature altogetherall together.

“Your words from when we first met reminded me of what I came from,” Jasper muttered. “I was ashamed to think about what I had turned into.”

I turned my attention to his stony expression. “Don’t say that. We all make changes in life.”

“Yes but, it is a fool who forgets where they come from, Cara.” His voice becomes a low, almost angry growl.

I reached out to him, taking hold of his hand and squeezed it extra hard. He turned to me, looking at me with glassy eyes. He  rubbed his large hand over his face, sniffling and trying to regain himself.

“You obviously remember,” I said to coax him.

His hand squeezed mine back. “I am forgetting something at this moment, Cara.”

I furrowed my brow and tilted my head up to him in confusion.“Which is?”

“How to be a gentleman. I almost bent down and kissed you like the ruffian I once was,” he said with a laugh.

My stomach knotted up, not in a bad way, but one of expectancy. “You could ask me.” The words poured from me, I didn’t mean to be so blunt.

Jasper chuckled, smoothed his beard into a point again. “I shouldn’t.”

I shrugged. “Try me.”

Jasper turned to face me, placing his hands first upon my shoulders then moving one up along the side of my neck and onto my cheek. His palm was so big and warm, it was amazing as he touched me. I shivered a bit, excited and conscious of what this could lead to.

“Cara,” he said with a shaky breath, “I am going to kiss you now.”

“I dare you then,” I giggled.

Jasper began to lean down towards me and I was stunned. I close my eyes, accepting his kiss. His tusks were cool against my skin, his fur was soft. I reached for him, touching the sides of his neck then slowly moving my palms over his broad chest.

When he pulled back, both of us were a touch breathless. He moved in to kiss me again, but he gasped and pulled back. I looked up angrily, but he moved off swiftly to the kitchen. “Excuse me, Ms. Cara! But our meal.”

“Oh!” I followed after him. “Right! Dinner.” I laughed as I returned to my seat at the table. I was flustered, fidgeting with my robe as I tried to distract myself from the thoughts blooming in my head. This was bad. I wasn’t supposed to be falling for Jasper. —

It was the night of the banquet, and I was considering turning Jasper down. It didn’t feel right to go. I’d made a mistake by possibly falling for Jasper. Each time I kissed him, the guilt was unbearable. It almost came to a head a few days before the kisses began turning into something much more. His storage room was small, warm, and dimly lit. I’d been helping him find a certain stash of books and we’d gotten smashed together.

His body was close, quite literally on top of mine. He was a mountain of a man, but I felt so safe, so strangely turned on by the moment. The room grew hotter, our bodies were pressed so tightly together you couldn’t fit a page between us. Jasper was hard against my hip and I was growing wet.

Jasper growled low in my ear, sending ripples through my body. He kept rutting himself into me so I could feel the entirety of him. He was thick and I could only imagine what that thing would do to me. His hands pushed up my skirt, touching bare skin, groping my rear. He growled again against my neck as his fingers slipped between my thighs. I touched him, grabbing hold of the shaft and stroking slowly. His voice became more hungry, so desperate. I wanted that voice to come out louder, deeper. I undid his pants, taking that warm, thick cock into my palm.

“Cara,” he snarled.

I nodded, breathing hard as I took both hands to hold him. “Like that?”

He grunted, pushing me into the wall as my fingers wrapped tightly around him, pleasuring him so deeply he began to shiver.

“Big thing like you could devour me, couldn't you? Those teeth…those hands…could rip me apart-” I whimpered.

“Cara-” he moaned again.

“I want you to,” I moaned, leaning up close to his face. I saw his eyes and I suddenly went still, my body was wracked with guilt. But the bell rang at the same moment, so Jasper mistook it for another kind of fear, and we left there.

I paced back and forth in my place, thinking about what I should do. If Jasper found out what I was up to could he forgive me? Would he understand? Or worse, would he hate me?

There was a knock on my door and all blood drained from my face. I approached the door, peering through a crack to try and see who was outside.

“It’s me, Cara,” Jasper announced with joy in his voice.

My mouth flopped open. “I was meeting you!” I fussed.

“I know, but I have a surprise for you.”

My guts churned. No, no, no, not a surprise you big fool! I slowly cracked open the door, peering up at him. “I’m uh…I’m not exactly ready yet, Jasper.”

Jasper had a smile that stretched past his tusks. “That’s fine. I have something for that anyways.”

I let him, silently stepping aside as he came into my room. His eyes darted around before looking back at me, his huge grin not fading. “You’re not nervous about tonight, are you?” He asked.

“A little,” I played into it.

He came to me as I closed the door, taking hold of my hand. “I’ve got you. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, if I know anything about you Cara, it’s that you could run circles around them effortlessly.”

I smiled weakly and rubbed at my arm. “Thanks, Jasper.”

He squeezed my hand then reached into the pocket of his waistcoat. I was so nervous I hadn’t noticed how sharpley he was dressed. His fur was combed, his beard trimmed, he wore that mix of green and gold that looked so good on him. He was so handsome.

“I got you a present.” He offereda small box to me. “Something special to wear tonight.”

Why did he do this? Why did I have to hurt so badly from a small box? I took it into my hand, opening it up to see the drop earrings inside.

“They’re made from moonstone. I saw them in a shop and they made me think of you.” The moonstones were shaped like water drops, topped with silver and a single red gem in the center. They were beautiful, I loved them instantly.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I murmured.

Jasper came forward, taking one of the earrings in one hand then holding my head with the other. “I know. But the moment I saw them, I wanted to see you wearing them.”

Those words mingled with his touch made me sigh out of pleasure. He slipped the hook into my ear then stepped back and repeated it with the other ear.  Jasper took a step back to look, and I saw on his face the same expression from the storage room.

“How do they look?” I murmured.

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut.

“Jasper-” my voice caught in my throat as I walked towards him. I placed my hands upon his chest. He kissed me, sweeping me off my feet. I didn’t fight it. Perhaps if we carried on we would miss the banquet and he would never find out why I was here, why I was with him.

I clung to him, leading him to believe in my desperation. I wanted him to kiss me longer, deeper, I needed him to grow just like that day in the storage room. He pulled away though and gently set me down upon the ground.

“I should let you finish getting ready,” he cleared his throat.

My mouth flopped open and closed. I then shut it tight and nodded. “Yeah. I should-” An idea struck me and I took a few steps back. “I need to change mostly.” I undid my clothing, letting it slip off my shoulders then down around my ankles. His eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared.

I smirked with some smugness as I saw the fire behind his glasses. I touched the earrings then dragged my fingers tip down my body in a slow agonizing way. His eyes lingered the entire time.

He finally jerked, looking away and putting on his airs. “Cara! What are you doing? The banquet!”

“They prefer if you’re fashionably late, don’t they?” I walked towards him, feeling less guilty if I tricked him this way. I slid my hand up his leg, rubbing my palm to his groin. “Please, Jasper?” I whispered.

He growled low, and that sound sent wicked little shivers through my body. I continued to touch him, grinding my palm into him as he began to stiffen. His strong hands gripped onto my bare shoulders and I took off his pants. I felt bad they would get wrinkled, but I needed this now. I could throw myself into passion, to desire, and forget how I’ve used him. I could tell him the truth later, once we missed the banquet and my job was ruined.

I grabbed hold of his cock, leading him over to the bed. I pushed him down upon it and crawled on top of him. He looked so beautiful all made up, and I was going to ruin that too.

“Cara, where did this come from?” Jasper gasped.

I smirked down upon him, rubbing myself against him. “From the moment I saw you.” I gasped breathlessly. “And that other day in the storage room. I’ve not stopped aching for you.”

Jasper grabbed hold of my hips, grinding his teeth the more he felt me. His deep moans echoed through my brain, driving me forward to keep going. It was working, I just hoped I could keep him entertained long enough. I looked down, taking hold of the base of his shaft. I caught his eyes, making him watch as I rubbed his tip against me. He was so thick, could I really take him?

“Easy,” he grunted.

“I’ll do as I please.” I began to lower myself down onto him. I lost my breath for a moment, then I let out a pleasurable cry. Jasper was moaning, wriggling slightly the more I took.

He was deep inside me, and I forgot everything except every touch of him upon me. His great big hands began roaming up my body, his large form was held tight underneath me, and inside me, oh by the gods, he was so deep inside me.

“I’m dizzy, Cara,” he snarled.

“Not too sensitive are you?” I said with a smirk. I circled my hips, taking him and grinding him inside me. I wanted to tease him, but it was backfiring! I’m sure I was feeling it more than he was.

“Not that…just…so long,” he grunted between breaths.

“Then maybe I should have started off with something easier,” I panted. “Maybe I should-” I started to pull away from him, knowing I had to waste my time wisely.

Jasper grabbed a hold of me and I was stunned for a moment by the force. He pushed me down on my stomach, anchoring his large body over top of me. He slid his cock between my cheeks and held his hands upon my wrist.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled with a dark tone.

“Listen to yourself,” I panted. “You almost scared me.”

His cock slipped between my thighs, rutting against me again. “You can’t just give me the sweetest treat in the world and pull it away. Let me savor it a bit longer.”

“I wasn’t.” I lost my voice and all my breath as he pushed back inside me. My smile became goofy upon my lips and I had to moan into the bed.

“Yes.” He released one of my hands in order to grab my hair. “Just give me a few moments. Oh Car-” his voice cracked. “I need to feel you.”

That was fine by me. He could have done anything to me right then and I would have been okay. It had been quite a while for me, and I wanted Jasper all this time. I trembled, squeezing tight around his shaft as he made small, gentle pushes.

“Oh fuck,” his deep voice rattled in my brain. “We’ll be so late. But you’ll be too full to eat anything at the banquet.” His other hand freed my wrist and he rose up taller behind me.

Oh my god! Why did that sound so hot?

He pushed in deeper, pulling out while his hand clapped down hard upon my ass. I cried out against the bed, it was too much, too good. He spanked me again as he pushed back inside and I laughed in a crazy tone.

He smoothed his soft palms over my cheeks, pushing them together then squeezing them. He pulled out again and rolled me over, laying me so I had to look up at him. His eyes glazed over upon seeing me, his mouth hung open slightly as drool collected around the base of his tusk.

I propped myself up on my elbows and the earrings dangled against my neck. “Jasper, I have something I need to tell you.”

He spread my thighs wide open. “I do as well.” He laid his cock against my belly, rubbing himself there.

“I…I can’t go to the banquet.”

Jasper licked his tusk. “I know. Not like this anyways.” He eased himself back inside me and I whined quite loudly.

“No…not like-” My eyes began to roll to the back of my head. “You don’t…oh!”

He pushed my head down into the bed, turning it so my ear was facing up towards him. He licked around the edge, snarling so close to me it was like my skin would vibrate off my bones.

“I need you now. I can’t stop. But I need to go to this banquet.” He bit my neck then my shoulder.

“I do too, but I-” I shivered again and my mind went blank.

“I’m an informant,” he whispered before delivering a mighty blow that rocked me, knocking around any thought I had and squashing it. My body was inflamed, tingling and crackling all over. I lost my breath, my vision for a moment.

Jasper pulled away, leaving me heaving heavily as he went to pour himself some water. He stood by the window, his back turned to me as I rose from the bed.

“Jasper-”

“These people, I need them Cara. Not in the way you think.”

I was afraid to stand up, I’m not even sure how he was. Wait…he didn’t finish! I brushed my hair out of my face. “Who are you an informant for?”

“I’ve never met them, just the fellow I meet with. But back before, back when I had nothing, they gave me the footing to start my business and live the life I wanted. I just had to pay them back. I was afraid of telling you. You work so hard…you’re such a-”

“Stop,” I snapped. I managed to stand and walk to the desk, taking out the letters I had been given about my mission. I looked them over then back at him. “I think I know who it is.”

Jasper’s thick brow furrowed when he saw the handwriting on the letters. “How do you know when you can’t even read the handwriting?”

I dropped the letters back onto the desktop and the two of us looked at one another for a long while.

“You were using me?” He asked quietly.

“At first,” I murmured. “But I couldn’t-” I shook my head and looked away. “I was trying to miss the whole evening by…by fucking you. Which I wanted to do regardless, mind you!” I looked into his eyes, seeing a smile he was trying to hide.

Jasper unbuttoned his waistcoat and took it off with his shirt. He stood naked there at the window, and I was breathless again. “Why did you?”

I couldn’t tell if he was mad. “Because I-” I took a step closer to him. “Because I care. A lot actually.”

Jasper took hold of me and set me upon the windowsill. “We’re working together now,” he whispered, gently pushing aside my hair and burying his face into my neck. “Informant and spy.” he eased himself back inside me and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

The glass was cold against my back, but I could barely tell it was there. I still wasn’t sure if he was angry, but his body and mine melted together and I could sense he was nothing if not elated. I grasped onto him, letting him do as he wished to come. I wanted him to. I needed him too.

At the banquet I was a bit delirious. I gazed off into the distance, but Jasper snapped me back into attention.

“Remember why you’re here,” he whispered.

“Right, donations.” I drank a dark red punch filled with berries and nectar. “I’m still trying to process this.”

He smirked. “What, our lovemaking?”

I hissed at him then looked over the crowd. “No. That’s your the-” I held my breath as some people walked by us. “The you-know-what.”

“You still have to apologize for trying to use me,” he said with a smarmy tone. “But I’ll forgive you.”

I pouted up at him, setting my glass down as a group gathered around us. Jasper was listening, taking in everything while I put on the show and did the work. I managed to make quite a bit of coin off these fools as they tried to one up themselves.

“You should come to my home, I can donate a lot of old knick knacks around the house my wife keeps collecting,” one man blurted out without much thought.

To my chagrin, it was one of the men I needed to get close to. I reached back, taking hold of Jasper’s hand. “I would be honored, sir!”

I got more invites after that, others who continued to try and show off to each other rather than try to perform a good act. As they dissipated when the music began, I took Jasper’s hand and kissed each soft pad on his palm.

Jasper took the bite of food he was eating and set it aside. “What was that for?” He chuckled.

“A small start to our victory.” My expression melted as I looked up at him. “If you still wish to work with me, that is.”

He took my hand as well, kissing it in return. “Partners from here on out. Like it was all meant to be.”

[quillst]

My brain is in a very big Once Upon a Witchlight mood right now so here’s something I’ve been thinking about, how many years each character has. Weird ik but I couldn’t stop thinking about all the years both Gideon and Torbek lost and then started thinking, how does everyone have left?

So, here’s what I think at least (roughly cuz we don’t have some ages of some characters):

Kremy-

From a little search, most lizardfolk live to about 60. The oldest was 80 so. Currently (at least from what the wiki says), Kremy is 42 meaning he has 18 years left. If we’re pushing it and he becomes the second oldest a lizardfolk has lived to, then he has at the most 38 years left.

Gideon-

So, we don’t know how old he actually is but from that one adult man goblin animation, Gideon is younger than Kremy and Gricko and is older than Frost. Genasis usually live up to 120 years old. So, roughly, he has 80 ~ 85 years left. More than double than Kremy.

Gricko-

According to the wiki, Gricko is 44. He is the oldest in the group (before Torbek joined) and most likely to (at least through old age) die first. Though, let’s be real it would probably be Kremy and Gideon to die first with all the cons and that they pull off by pissing off the wrong people. Like lizardfolk they live up to sixty, so he has 16 years left.

Frost-

Frost is the youngest in the group, and again doesn’t have a canonical age but the wiki says that he is in his 20s. Some say tabaxis can live up to 100, most say that they have the same lifespan of a human. So I’m going with that. We usually live up to early 80s, late 70s so for the sake of me not having to put in more numbers, I’m going with 80. So, he has 51 ~ 60 years left.

Torbek-

Torbek’s age is going to be a rough guess considering the fact that we have no confirmed age / age range, and the many years that he had taken away from him. I think it’s a safe bet to put him at around 45 - 55. Bugbears live up to 80. So, he has 25 ~ 35 years left. Though, considering all the things he eats and the people after him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dies younger than that.

So! To sum it, here’s the list of who would die first and how many years they have left:

1. Gricko -> 16 years left

2. Kremy -> 18 ~ 38 (if we’re pushing it) years left

3. Torbek -> 25 ~ 35 years left

4. Frost -> 51 ~ 60 years left

5. Gideon -> 80 ~ 85 years left

Sorry for the sort of morbid post, I was bored and wondering, so I did the maths for it! :)

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn in BG3: Chapter 2

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 2: Now that all the companions are gathered it's time to move on to the druid's grove.

Link to AO3

A/N: Thank you to everyone giving part one love! <3 The more I write this the more I fall in love with my own Tav lol.

Lae’zel was just as arrogant when rescued as she was in the game, but surprisingly she was the one to suggest ditching a couple of party members.  It’s too conspicuous to travel with so many, so Tav made the decision to send two on to make camp nearby.  And of all the people to send, he sent away Shadowheart and Gale.  They each questioned the decision but headed off soon enough. 

You wonder why he chose to keep you, clearly the weakest link.  You wonder those thoughts aloud when you approach the Emerald Grove and hear Aradin demanding entry, and the goblin assault begins.

“Hardly the time for those questions,” Astarion answers.  

“Just stay back,” Tav warns.  “And get your dagger out.”

You stand atop the small hill across from the gate, two goblins on the stair-like cliffside and climbing up, while Tav and Lae’zel jump down to help those at the gate.  Astarion has his bow drawn and sends an arrow to the closest goblin’s face—it goes down with a heavy thud, body tumbling into the other one knocking him down long enough for the vampire to pull out a dagger and start stabbing.

You do as Tav says and pull your own dagger from your boot..  What once felt large in your hand now seems incomparably small when facing a group of goblins.  

And there’s no turns here.  The goblins aren’t about to wait patiently for you to stick your blade into them.  The fray is nothing but chaos until a young man in a red coat jumps down from the top of the gate, rapier in hand.  That stills the goblins enough for you to make sense of some of the battle.

Tav and Aradin have taken down two goblins themselves while Lae’zel thrusts her sword into the bugbears chest—another two goblins are felled by Astarion and the female archer, and then the last of them are taken out by Wyll’s Arms of Hadar.  The green and black tendrils erupt from the ground, draining the nearest creatures of life before fading back into the dirt.  All the while you stood behind Astarion holding the tiniest dagger known to Faerun.

You take careful steps to the edge of the cliff, avoiding any spilled blood, and look at the carnage below.  Astarion moves up to the ledge below where you stand, saying something that sounds like “good to have you in the group” but you don’t pay him any mind.  There’s too much blood rushing in your ears to hear his snark, and that phantom limb has grown friends as it reaches towards the dead that surround you. 

Take, something whispers, take what is yours.

Take take take take! 

It repeats in your mind as the body nearest you twitches, legs twisting as if alive but stills as soon as Astarion pulls the arrow from its face.  The squelch of sputtering blood is enough to draw you from your trance, facing Astarion.  

“What did you say?”  Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“A sheltered one, aren’t you?” he asks.  He thinks you’re scared of the bodies, the violence.  You nod, because he’s not technically wrong.  Those limbs retract and that little voice that demanded something of you vanishes.  Let them all think you’re scared of the blood, because that’s what the trill in your chest was, wasn’t it?  Fear.

“I’ll get used to it,” you say more to yourself than Astarion.   You stow your blade back in your boot, noticing that Tav is leaping between the goblin bodies and searching them for loot.  His tail wags in the air as he bends to scavenge each corpse, eagerness on display.  

“I would have almost guessed you were excited by the way you gripped that dagger.”  Astarion holds a hand out to you.  He’s a ledge below you, waiting to help you down despite the attitude you hear in his tone.  Or maybe not attitude but…accusation?  No. That doesn’t fit him.  But neither does helping a stranger down a rocky cliff, yet there he is holding out a hand.

You stupidly stare at his pale hand, pondering its purpose.  He sighs with a roll of his eyes before he grabs your hand and tugs.  “Come along then, all the scary goblins are dead.”

You let him lead you down the cliffside, his hand actually…warm?  Well, nothing llike the heavy warmth of Tav, but still comforting as you pass the dead.  Astarion swaps holding your hand with his left rather than right as you reach the bottom, placing his now free hand on your back to guide you on the last large descent.  

“There now,” he says, all fake smile and fake emotion, “safe and sound.”

His words are directed at Tav, who is still searching the last body.  Ah, he’s endearing himself to Tav.  Help the person the leader is helping, because you’re stuck with them anyway, and you’ll look better to the group overall and be less suspicious should anything unsavoury happen to them.   The memory of critically failing your rolls when he fed on your Tav comes to mind and you make a mental note to keep your dagger very close at night.

Astarion lets go of your hand once Tav deems you safe enough.  You give him a small thanks and receive that fake smile in return.  You can’t bring yourself to smile back, knowing what you know.

“Hurry inside!” a tiefling shouts from atop the gate.  Zevlor.  “Before more of them come!”

“Here,” Tav says excitedly.  He pushes his hands towards you, a staff laying gently on both palms as if this were an offering to his better.  The top of the staff is decorated with some poor creature's skull and assorted bones.  A fox, maybe?  No matter, its bones have now been shaped and tied together along the smooth wooden staff like some sort of talisman.  As you take it Tav adds, “It may not be what you’re used to, but it should help you channel your magic.”

Your brows raise—he was more perceptive than you thought a barbarian would be.  Even if he was assuming you could use magic, and were having trouble doing so.

You notice there are small clear crystals dangling from some of the stones, and two large cut pieces of amethyst within the eye sockets of the skull.  The more you look at the staff the more you see how finely it’s been crafted—hardly the work of goblins.  

“Thanks,” you say.  You twirl it in your fingers, watching the crystals sparkle in the light and feeling a comforting chill fall over you.  Almost like stepping into the shade on a hot summer day. 

Tav’s tail swishes back and forth at your approval.  “Let’s get inside before they change their mind.”

Inside the grove Aradin and Zevlor are already arguing.  Like with Astarion’s false cries for help, Tav is quick to move ahead and get into the thick of things.  You can hear a woman crying above the gate—Arka, mourning the loss of her brother.  You block it out as much as possible, along with the voice in your head that whispers, Take.

You watch Tav settle the argument without any fists flying, then Aradin and what’s left of his crew storms off.

Zevlor and Tav exchange a few words, but your attention is on the spaciousness of the grove itself.  It looked so small on a computer screen, but now you can appreciate the majesty of it; the smell of the forest, the way the wind comes from down in The Hollow and wraps you in a safe cocoon.  It would be so peaceful if not for the scared tieflings, and the angry druids, and of course the rats you know aren’t really rats.

“Goblin got ya?” Zevlor says to Tav with a bit of surprise.  “You should talk to Nettie—she’s not as profound as Halsin but she can take a look at you.  While you’re there maybe you could talk Kagha out of this Rite of Thorns.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tav replies.

“We’re messengers now?”  Astarion has no qualms complaining directly in front of the one making the desperate request.

Without thinking you give him a quick elbow to the ribs.  You hiss, “Be nice!”

Astarion is so taken aback by your assault he can only baulk at you, eyes wide.  You try to keep your face as neutral as possible while you stand next to him, ignoring his stare in your peripheral vision.  Tav snickers at your actions, and that in itself is enough to keep Astarion at bay.  You imagine a die in your mind, the big number one mocking you as you try to push away the thought of Astarion feeding on you in the dead of night.  

You felt a glare directed at the back of your head as you followed Tav and Lae’zel down the hill and into The Hollow. It could be your imagination, but there was a particular weight to Astarion’s gaze whenever you looked back at him.  Still, you stood by your decision and kept your chin up.  

Tav stops to talk to the three siblings, successfully convincing them to stay and help the other tieflings.  You all take the boarded path towards the back of the cave where Aradin and his crew sit, and there you spot Meli, a young tiefling refugee, about to pickpocket Barth for his mothers locket.  You wonder if you should stop him but it’s Tav that steps up and sets a hand on the boy's shoulder, surprising Meli and you.  Tav squats down and whispers something in the boy's ear—whatever it was it has Meli smiling and darting off, locket all but forgotten. 

“What was that?” Barth asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Just telling him he should challenge himself,” Tav answers.  He doesn’t elaborate and instead goes right into questioning the trio about Halsin.  

You listen as they discuss the wizard in Baldur's Gate and the Nightsong when you feel the faintest touch at your hip.  You glance to your right to find Meli dashing off, and the weight of the bag beneath your coat gone.

“Hey!” you shout.  Meli doesn’t even turn around as he runs out of sight beyond the bend.

Astarion chuckles.  

You spin towards him standing behind you, where he would have had an uninterrupted view of you getting pickpocketed.  

“Really?” you question.  

Astarion shrugs in response, one arm crossed over his torso while he waves his other hand up as if to say, “What can you do?”  

You don’t even know what you lost but the embarrassment of being robbed, with witnesses, brings a heat to your cheeks.  Frowning, or maybe just pouting, you hurry after Meli.  At least you know where they are.

You pass by the siblings that have made their way down, past Dammon, and the two older women of which neither were human, to get to the kids’ hideout.  You wonder if Mol would be kind enough to return your things as you go over the different events that could give you her favour.  

You’re ready to beg, honestly, for a look at what you lost at the very least.  For all you know your entire identity is in that bag that you haven’t had a moment to investigate. But that gets put on the back burner when you hear a woman yell, “Shut up!  Just shut up!”

“Arka, please,” a man says.  You turn to your left, spotting Arka and a male tieflings whose name escapes you in the makeshift prison.  She’s already got her crossbow aimed at the goblin Sazza.  You swear under your breath as you look back at the others, Tav still engaged in conversation with Aradin and Lae’zel talking to Remira.  The only one that watches you now is Astarion, all the other tieflings around you minding their own worries.  You bounce on your heels, unsure if you have time to get Tav before Arka takes her shot.  When you hear the goblin taunt her about losing her nerve you decide you can’t wait, and dash into the prison.

“Here it comes you little—“

There’s a lot you could do to stop Arka.  You could shout, “Stop!” or “Help!” or hit her with your new staff.  But none of that happens.  Instead you let out a puff of air that’s supposed to be words, drop the staff, and dive to stop the arrow from penetrating the goblins skull.  It works…mostly.

You see blood splash onto Sazza’s face before you feel the pain.  When you land, the collision with the ground vibrates through your body before you feel the shock of the arrow that now penetrates through your right hand.

If it wasn’t for your plush coat, you would have felt the gravel digging into your hip.  You can certainly feel it on your right thigh, the small slide along the ground enough to grind the rocks against your body.  Your right arm is bent at the elbow with your hand in the air, head down as you try to take stock of all the different things you’re feeling in that moment.

Embarrassment from being robbed, pain all along the right side of your body, a piercing burn in the palm of your hand, and more embarrassment that you didn’t just smack Arka with your staff because that is literally what it is for.

The three beings that surround you stay silent, as if they too cannot believe you just did that.  You’re lucky the arrow is thin and crudely made—a stronger one would have probably gone through your hand and into Sazza’s eye.

“Oh, my,” comes Astarion’s lilting voice, “it seems I missed the show.”

Weakly, you raise your head and turn to face him, body relaxing onto the ground.  He stands in the doorway of the prison, a finger to his lips as he grins at your valiant display of courage.  Not everyone would do what you did!  Not everyone was so reckless as to risk their life for a goblin that would kill them just for fun.  Yes…that was a special kind of stupid.  Your face burns again as Sazza laughs loudly.

“Looks like the Absolute sent me a saviour,” she says, voice scratchy and mocking.  It’s directed at you just as much as it is Arka.

Arka growls.  “Why did you do that?!”

You cough away the dust you’d been breathing in and straighten on the ground.  There are a few responses you can give, but the honest truth isn’t one of them.   You’d let her kill Sazza before, multiple times—sometimes you skipped the scene all together!  But…when it’s no longer a game something in your soul drives you to stop it.  All you’re left to do is shrug and shake your head.

Arka glares at you as you lift yourself to your feet.  You’re shaking again like when you’d first woken up, except this time there’s a clear reason why.  The arrow through your hand is forcing your body to pump out heavy doses of adrenaline, and if not for the arrow you’d probably be bleeding profusely.  It still drops down your forearm as you hold it above your waist.

“She’s a prisoner,” you finally relent, “she’s not here to be killed.  She could have useful intel on the goblin camp.”

Sazza huffs at the idea of her giving up her tribe.  You ignore the goblin and watch Arka bite her bottom lip and storm away.   The male tiefling—what the hells was his name again?— bows his head as thanks before following her.

Astarion moves out of the way to avoid any misdirected rage from Arka.  As he approaches you he says, “I see you’re one of those self-sacrificing types.”

“No, just stupid,” you reply.  

A sudden puff of a laugh comes from him and when you try to meet his eyes you find him looking away from you, a smile hidden beneath one hand.  “That’s another way of putting it.”

He doesn’t come too close to you as you observe the wound.  While it hurts, it’s not as bad as you thought a piercing wound would be.  Not that you thought much about that, anyway.  You flipped your hand around, observing the wound carefully—should you just pull the arrow out?  You recall how difficult it had been to get Gale out of the sigil and think better of doing the task yourself.  You hold your bloody hand towards Astarion.  “Do you mind? I won’t be able to do it myself.”

Whatever he’s thinking is kept to himself, his mouth still and eyes unwavering as they survey your face.  

“Why don’t we find you that healer?” he suggests.  “I’m sure this Nettie will get you fixed up and ready to dive in front of a fire arrow in no time.”

When you only nod Astarion adds, “I feel this should go without saying, but don’t jump in front of a fire arrow.  Unless it’s to save me, at which point, follow your instincts, darling.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to hide your growing smile.  He called you darling.  It sounded so much sweeter with those red eyes on you than it ever had in game.  You let the smile out and laugh.  “No promises, but I think I’m okay with losing a bit of blood for you.”

“Oh my goodness!” 

You and Astarion look to the doorway to see Auntie Ethel standing there, mock worry on her face.  It really did look genuine though, if you didn’t know what she is.  She is a much better actor than Astarion.

“You poor thing,” she says, hurrying to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, observing your injury.  “What happened?  Oh, no matter, I’ll get this treated.  Come with me, petal.”

Despite her frail appearance, Auntie Ethel is able to strong-arm you out of the makeshift prison.  She makes a fuss the whole way to her little cove within the cave.  You’re careful to avoid looking for Arka, and to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes as the woman makes a fuss over you.  You can’t hear Astarion’s steps but you know he’s following, if only by the icy grip that reaches out from the back of your head.

TAGLIST

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Life in Faerûn, Part 1

Disclaimer & Other Stuff [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Abeir-Toril Why it's called the "Forgotten" Realms History | Time & Festivals | Lexicon [1] [2]| Languages | Living in Faerûn [1] [?] | Notable Organisations | Magic | Baldurs Gate | Waterdeep | The Underdark | Geography and Human Cultures ---[WIP]

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Demihumans in common society (ie human society); common is not a daily language; the postal service; some stuff about gender, gender roles and body modification in the Realms; social strata... Plus some details about other things - most of which will be built on in other posts.

Also featuring; what to do with your leisure time in the realms: like literature, theatre, cafés, where to go clubbing aaand the festhalls.

Education: church school, rich idiots at academies, bardic colleges, etc.

And how good medicine is on Toril, if you can't find a spellcaster to heal you. Baths are both mandatory and freely available, we shall have no unwashed peasants in this setting.

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Humans are the dominant peoples of the Realms, and the vast majority of cultures one will find oneself in are human cultures. Nine-in-ten people are human, with the one remainder being one of any of the eight non-humans (some of whom are more commonly encountered than others).

Most of what is said here refers to human lands and cultures (which is 99% of the world anyway), and non-human cultures I'll cover in their own write ups.

Humans mostly know the other "common" races - elves, dwarves, halflings and gnomes, whom they call "demihumans" or "humanoids" - as trade partners or as neighbours belonging to minority groups within their home cities.

Demihumans are mostly accepted as fellow citizens within human lands, although the elves are often viewed with mistrust due to the stereotype that they are fickle fey creatures who get uppity when you start tearing down nature and building your cities in their lands. This tolerance is not extended to people who are categorised as monsters, including the Underdark races, tieflings and "goblinkin" - a category that includes orcs, goblins, bugbears and so forth. Half-orcs usually find themselves being sorted into this category, and most have to deal with a lot of respectability politics in order to be accepted into their human family's lands. Elves and dwarves also share this hostility towards orcs, and have a long history of wars with them.

The hin (halflings, to non-hin) and gnomes who find themselves living in human cities are accepted by being seen as useful in the eyes of the Big Folk. Both are known as being useful as couriers, tinkers and repairmen, and for running laundromats. Gnomes in particular are the chief inventors and innovators of the realms, and due to their tendency to be quiet and helpful they are heavily overlooked by others.

Dragonborn are a rare sight, but have mostly built a reputation of respect.

Most humans do not know much about non-human cultures, knowing them only through story, rumour and whatever personal experience they have. Stereotypes are often taken at face value, and being more used to the likes of lightfoot halflings and silver elves, the average person would probably be quite surprised by the different cultural attitudes and colder receptions they'd get from, say, ghostwise halflings or gold elves.

Outside of cosmopolitan areas, where your neighbour can punch you in the face for stupid comments, humans feel no particular pressure to be respectful to demihumans and foreigners, and would roll their eyes at what their Earth equivalents would call "political correctness" if you told them off.

On the nonhumans' end, humans are watched with concern, as they do tend to cause their fair share of disasters that rapidly become everyone's problem.

Many of the people of Faerûn move around a lot; religious pilgrims, traders, immigrants and those bloody adventurers transcend the boundaries of culture and country on a daily basis. For this reason, the Common tongue was invented.

People do not use Common as a daily language, though certain terms may enter daily speech as loanwords. Common is a pidgin trade tongue that grew out of Old Chondathan and Alzhedo (mostly the former), the language spoken in Central and Western Faerûn. It's a simple language, easy to learn and spread around, and useful for exchanging basic information with people from other lands who don't share a language with you - but it's useless for daily life. While it has a written form, most people can't read or write in it.

-

Maps are rare, and if you want an accurate map you'll usually find it in the possession of local rulers and temples (which supply the Realms with most of their scribes and such). Each realm has a book of maps (atlas) available for the use of their military and other officials.

-

If you want to send a package or letter in the Realms, temples often double as a post office. The delivery will be sent from temple to temple until it reaches its destination and will be delivered to the addressee,

-

Most of the Realms does not consider men or women to be inherently lesser or greater than the other and all genders are equal under all laws, though they do have traditional gender roles that it's believed most are better suited for - or at least areas where one gender is more represented than the other. Women dominate in trade and domestic areas, while men dominate in war and crafting, however it isn't considered immoral or unthinkable to see somebody defying the gender norm. If your daughter picks up a sword, learns to use it and runs away to fight dragons your primary concerns are less "oh no, a girl is fighting" and far more likely about the threat to her life and who in the hells is going to help you run the family store now if she has no siblings? Gender roles can be looser or more rigid, depending on where in the Realms you go. Some realms may be Patriarchal or Matriarchal, but it's not the rule and some of these places have grown more egalitarian over time.

Organisations do not generally discriminate in any way based on gender when it comes to their members.

The term for transgender in the Common tongue is sildur. (Elven: Alur, Dwarvish: Thulol, Gnome: Thoulal, Hin: Zalshaer) Transmutation magic is the primary form of body modification and transitioning on Toril, although apparently most people will turn towards divine magic before trusting a wizard to do it. Mages are expensive to hire and viewed with some measure of fear by the common person.

You can petition the gods at their temples for body modifications in return for sufficient offerings, if you don't trust wizards. Be that "I want to be blond" or "I don't want these breasts." Exactly how much and what the god is going to expect in exchange for this varies on the faith of the petitioner and the past relationship between them and the god. Naturally, certain gods are favoured above others for this kind of thing. You're more likely to petition Sune (love and beauty) or Liira (joy and freedom) than the likes of Bane and Shar. ---

Faerûn has its social classes, defined by wealth and family lineage, but they do not have true feudal or caste systems, or any system where upwards social mobility is totally impossible (though the upper classes will certainly do their best to prevent that. (Hi, Waterdeep, I'll give you your own post)). Any commoner could theoretically gain a noble title to the distress of the hereditary nobility. In Sembia if you have enough coin, you can just give yourself a title and everyone has to shut up and go along with it, because money. And that's how most of them got theirs anyway.

Slavery is illegal in all of Faerûn with the exception of Dambrath, Thay, Mulhorand and Unther. The slave trade still exists underground elsewhere, and is quietly overlooked in some places, but it is considered evil by the world at large and somebody found to be a slaver will be met with violent reprisal.

Nobles are... well, nobles. They're rich and have powerful friends and the law is far nicer to them than to the lower classes. They're mostly corrupt and constantly scheming against each other. Their kids go through rebellious stages and do drugs and cause chaos for the commoners and join weird cults.

Landownership outside of kingdoms and such with codified property law generally follows the rules that you can do what you like with whatever land you hold; charge rent, put up signs, make the rules... but you own it only by the tolerance of your neighbours. If they don't like the way you do things, you're quickly going to find yourself in trouble. Also led to my one of my new favourite quotes:

“If you set up an inn and then murder everyone who stops there and keep their goods, even if that’s morally acceptable to you as a devout follower of Bane or of Cyric, it will not be suffered to stand."

Yes! Screw you, edgelord!

Crime and punishment varies depending on where you are, but carries fun stuff like fines, brandings, prison labour, floggings, stockades and executions. I think the concept of the law, "justice" and court proceedings will be left for another post where I will passive aggressively judge a young Astarion and his corrupt magistrate ways.

-

Leisure:

Literature: Literacy is a hit and a miss in the Realms. Some people prize literacy, and it's common enough that broadsheets and newspapers are in business and PCs can read and write by default; but there are still others who can't and couldn't care less if they can't read some bard's chicken scratch. The ruling class in particular gets a little nervous about the idea of a fully literate populace, since that would allow them to be educated, and better suited to communicate with each other and get ideas. That bit varies though. Cormyr, for example. has encouraged its population to learn to read and get educated for several reasons including making it harder for the country to be infiltrated by enemy spies.

Chapbooks are serially published cheap little paperback things. They contain all sorts of things, like children's tales, donated recipes, political opinions, random bits of advice from people on trades and such, gossip from other countries disguised as news, memoirs, and smut. The rating of that last bit varies in rating. In Waterdeep they favour romantic stories over sex and over in Amn they're just flat out publishing porn about the goddesses of love and sensuality, Sune and Sharess - with the full support and encouragement of their churches.

The most popular genre of actual novels is the personal travel logs of explorers and other wanderers. The Realms are flooded with such books.

There are also non-fiction books available. Philosophy (which is written through the lens of religion, as a rule); books on rulership (controlled by the noble class, sometimes outlawed); and on business (which are subject to attempted control by the likes of merchant guilds)

Book printing is a sketchy business. Authors may one day discover that there are whole new best selling reprints of their books they've never been informed of (or paid for). Plagiarism is also a common problem.

Theatre: Aside from actual theatres, there are a few ways to catch a play.

Traveling caravans are known to sport a few actors, who can make a bit of extra money for the group by putting on a performance as well as advertising the stock their caravan carries (product placement everywhere). Most bards have the "classic" scenes of famous plays memories, so as to perform them on demand.

Theatres often hire doppelgangers, as their shapeshifting ability is very useful in realistically portraying monstrous characters too dangerous to actually hire. Of course there's also this little issue where your doppelganger hirelings may start killing people outside of work hours, but eh. The show must go on.

There are also puppet shows like Punch-and-Judy called Oldboots - because the shows are actually done by wearing worn old boots on your hands instead of actual puppets.

Establishments: Alehouses - Pubs and bars, existing primarily for those looking for an alcoholic beverage. The term "barkeeper" is unknown to Torilians, who would refer to them as tavernmasters. The word "mug" and "pint" also do not exist. Inns and Alehouses don't have menus, you're eating whatever's being cooked.

Dining-house or Feasthall - Known to us as a restaurant. Establishments are also known by the Chondathan word skaethar which is used as a formal term in Common in other parts of the world. In larger inns, one might find a section of the building that acts as a dining-house. Most of the time the menu is a chalk board on the wall, informing customers what's fresh. The really fancy ones, visited by the rich (or those who want to seem so) get paper menus printed by machine or made with fancy calligraphy.

Kaeth house - A café. Coffee is known in the Realms as kaeth or kaethae - or "fireswill", colloquially. The drink is rare and expensive northwards of Calimshan, but is available in large cosmopolitan trade cities, as far North as Waterdeep. Calishite coffee is taken black with nuts and spices like ginger. Sembian and Chessentan styles of coffee are often mixed with chocolate and liqueur. In lands where coffee is widely known, they tend to have their own drinking utensils and customs around it, but in the north it's just served in tankards. Hot chocolate is also on the menu. Teas exist, but are less popular and are seen as a medicinal drinks.

Temples of Liira - The goddess of joy and revelry charges her followers with hosting parties and making everyone they meet is having fun and feeling happy. As such, going to her temples is kind of like going clubbing. The main hall of the temple is a dance hall, with other rooms branching off to include lounges and a well-stocked bar. Liirans also offer dance lessons.

Temples of Sune - As devotees of the goddess of beauty, Sunites are obligated to give you a makeover if you ask, so this is a good destination for a haircut, pedicure or fashion consultation or whatever. As Sune is also the goddess of love, Sunites can also be asked for matchmaking services. The church also sponsors schools and classes teaching all forms of art (including music, song, performance arts, etc).

Festhalls - Try not to confuse these with feasthalls, or you're going to have an embarrassing time. Ah Festhalls, where to start. They're spaces considered outside of society; everyone leaves their real life, identity, social rank and all of that outside and comes here to just let go for a few hours. Festhalls will provide you with a warm bed for the night; they'll wash, mend and dry your clothes; they have hot baths and spa services; you can dance to music, or just lounge around enjoying a good drink and some company; it's also something of a casino, where you can play cards and gamble or even just play normal board games or something... And they're strip clubs, BDSM scenes and specialty brothels! You got a kink none of the brothels can scratch? Festhalls provide and cater to goddamn anything that turns you on, so long as it's legal, safe, sane and consensual.

---

Education: What counts as an education varies from place to place and depends on what the realm desires of its public. Some places will emphasise the commoners knowing the basics of military drills, the chain of command and such in case of the need for a levy. Other places, like trade centres such as Waterdeep, prioritise maths and literacy.

In most of the Realms - especially in rural areas, a basic informal tutoring involves teaching basic maths, local laws and customs and some basic knowledge of the alphabet and market/road signs.

Most schooling is done by priests, which is free to the public. Unless you're dealing with the sketchier gods or the ones with deeper mysteries, all clergy are also happy to teach everything about their faith when asked. While some may obscure less savoury details, no follower of any god will outright lie about the details of their faith, as that is considered a sin.

If you're not rich you can get a basic education by hiring "low sages" - the likes of book shop owners, hedge mages, retired adventurers and other people with access to information who can share with you what they know. Of course, what they know may not be the most accurate information in the world.

You can also purchase some basic short paperback school books.

Most trades guilds will provide a basic education in that trade in exchange for a coin or two. Although some of this will simply just be "don't do this at home, hire a professional." They also hold classes open to the public now and then.

Schools as educational organisations also exist and are usually founded by bards or monastic orders in large cities. Most schools and academies are simply a handful of ageing, well educated people with a house who provide lessons for enrolled children there - though larger establishments exist.

For nobles there are Academies, which will also teach their children social etiquette and other things the upper class needs to worry over lest their reputation drop so low it falls into the Lower Planes and dies in the River Styx. Sometimes these Academies are actually just social clubs for young rich idiots to get drunk, do drugs and have orgies in, but that's not so common and gets shut down when it does happen.

While the rich and powerful have the opportunity to send their darlings to Academies, they'd rather not. It's... embarrassing. It means you can't afford a private tutor (or that your darling is a brat with a personality that suggests they're a demon spawned in the Abyss).

Bards are usually trained at Bardic Colleges - these vary in quality and specialty (some may be better for certain instruments, for example). The only requirements for entry are that one passes an audition, impressing their interviewers enough that they are taken on.

Civic information is typically freely available to anyone who asks for it, and courtiers and scribes are obligated to share the information.

---

Medicine: Medicine is primarily the practice of demihumans, who've been around for much longer than humans and had more practice. They also tend to hold the market, finding a place for themselves in human lands by offering their services as physicians and herbalists.

Faerûnians have an almost Earth-level awareness of human anatomy; the organs and their function, the function of blood and the cardiovascular system as well as the risks of shock and infections are common knowledge. While the concept of microbes and spread of disease is unknown, the importance of hygiene in staying healthy is known, and there are establishments that offer baths and laundry services to travellers and homeless people. The filthy unwashed peasant is not a thing on Toril. Plagues are not as disastrous as they were in Earth history - most households and communities will avoid being totally wiped out, but they are terrible and mysterious things and the afflicted are avoided.

Medicines as we know them - called "physics" - are expensive and hard to get ahold of, and most people rely on herb lore or priests like clerics and druids. Herbal anaesthetics are widely used. Cauterisation is a common practice, and many people have scars from it.

Most trade towns have apothecaries, be they part of a shrine or a business.

Physicians are often in conflict with divine spellcasters, since they're competing over the same market.

Some diseases are known by different names in the Realms: Windchill fever - Pneumonia Sallar - Typhus Whitewasting - Leprosy Foamjaws - Rabies And a heart attack is known as a heartstop.

[dutifullylazybread]

WIP Whenever Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tags @darkurgetrash and @lemonsrosesandlavender!! 💖💖💖

SO I am fighting with Deeply and Immovably So, and to keep the writing flowing, I *did* start a little Halsin x Tav one-shot. It's not to take away from the long fic so much as to keep my writing sharp while I keep working away at my main WIP (I also haven't introduced a short story series I am playing with right now that I think you'll all love).

SO here is some of what I have written thus far (content warning for mentions of blood and some violence):

Tagging @voloslobotomyservice @commander-krios @kimberbohwrites @savriea @barbwillbrb and whoever else would like to tackle this!

“Get up!”

She was hoisted up by two of her guards and taken down a short flight of stairs, the tips of her boots trailing behind her as they dragged her. Prior to fifteen minutes ago, had anyone told her that she could be overpowered by a group of goblins, she would have scoffed at them.

Then again… she’d also set the scene rather nicely so that she would be captured. Now, she wanted to make sure she gave them a good performance. They’d done all the hard work, after all.

All they needed to do now was toss her into the empty prison cell to the right of the staircase…

…except they trudged past it and went straight ahead…

…towards the cell that held a rather large, rather incensed cave bear.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

The bear bristled, its lips peeling back into a snarl as Tav and her goblin entourage approached.

She didn’t need any additional encouragement. Tav forced her feet forward, planted them onto the floor, before pushing back, fighting to throw the goblins off kilter. This hadn’t been the plan. She was supposed to land in an empty cell or, had luck been with her, in the same cell as the archdruid—not some half-starved bear.

Three of her guards detached from the cluster surrounding her to prod the bear through the bars of its prison with their spears—they didn’t even have the decency to use the blunted ends of their weapons. No, they stabbed at it with their chipped and tarnished points.

The bear lurched away from the bars, its snarl burning away to a roar. It swiped at one of the spears, splintering its shaft and sending half of it skittering into the shadows behind it. The fur on its left front leg started to mat with blood and its large brown eyes were feral with rage. It slammed against the bars in an attempt to grab at the goblin that caused it injury, clawing at empty air as the creature bounded back, grinning delightedly.

Had Tav been reluctant to get in the cell before, she was downright opposed now. She thrashed against the goblins holding her—only to be promptly reminded that one of the camp’s bugbears had accompanied them into the worg pens. She was reminded with a swift strike to the side of her head.

Her vision swam. Her arms were released and she slumped to the stone floor. She was vaguely aware of the grit biting into her cheek and the tacky pull of the drying blood puddle on her skin and clothes. Its rusty stink was only enhanced by the clinging stench of old piss and shit.

“He’s all ready for you,” one goblin said to her before turning to the others standing idly by. “What are you waiting for? Get that fur ball away from the door! Now!”

Oh, of course they wanted to rile the beast up before tossing her into its den. The mauling to follow would only be inevitable. Hopefully it would steer clear of her skull when it supped on her—she was none too sure how a tadpoled cave bear would pan out. Nor did she want to learn. Then again, would a mind flayer tadpole survive a bear’s digestive system?

She didn’t have time to consider before a sickly crack cut through the bear’s roar, dragging it out into an agonized whimper.

[maria-ruta]

ronya 18?

What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

Oh i have a thought!

So as some of you might remember - Ronya was killed in the end of the game and her body became body of the demon EXCEPT her leg (that was ripped off during the battle)

and her friends were able to revify Ronya from that leg (it was super powerful spell that nobody had so they had to ask Chiviss's celestial patron for that)

(picture taken from this Ronya's scars chart)

and so it is canonically stated that with age Ronya's old leg would start hurting more

So I think she would start walking with crane at some point (it can be used for bonking heads too haha)

here is doodle of older Ronya with crane

@tench-art 's character illithid Chiviss would offer her his help, after hearing her constantly whinning and complaining about her old leg

but as years pass Ronya gets attached to it (lol) she has this superstition fear that if she gets rid of it for chiviss or other magic user to give her new one - she will start forgeting her older days

because this leg is all that left from her past life when she and her brother were robbing caravans along side goblins that adopted them, and she doesnt want to forget her loved ones that she've lost, so she clings into tht leg, even if its old and sore all the time

Chiviss doesn't understand her concerns but he wouldn't insist and will try to find some other remedy to ease the pain instead <3

this sick bugbear design idea belongs to @tench-art btw

here is link to the list of questions, in case you wanna ask more :3c

[magicjesuscup]

BG3 Emperor/Tav theory

Spoilers for Act 3? That's when the emperor propositioned my Tav at least.

I found an article talking about a plothole during the scene where the player can have sex with the emperor. The emperor says he lost concentration and your activities accidently got broadcasted to some of your companions. You see something like this (the companions are random; mine were a bit different):

Then he says, "Don't worry though; I'll erase their memories. It'll be fine." And the next morning, none of the companions say anything about it to the player, making it look like the mind erasure worked.

The article says that the emperor could've done this on purpose, list some reasons why and how non tadpoled companions like Halsin could've seen what they were up to.

I thought I'd share my own theory:

This is an illusion only Tav can see based on how they fear their companions would respond. Fears can be irrational, which is why the scene can seem a bit off.

I think an unromanced Astarion would be excited for Tav. This is the face he made when he saw a bugbear and ogre porking in a barn:

(image from a post by @exsanguinatedboar)

And Halsin, even when romanced, is all about Tav being true to their nature and being open to exploring things (which is essentially what he says if Tav has sex with Mizora).

Basically, if those three were the ones that actually saw, I think their responses would've varied instead of being pure disgust across the board. Also, only companions with tatpoles should've seen.

Anyway, I think the emperor would've done this to try to convince Tav to not talk about their activities with their companions for fear of what their responses would be. He spent a ton of time studying Tav and finding out how they think; he may not have taken the same time with the other companions. Besides that, he couldn't have known how the non-tadpoled ones would react. What if they tried to talk Tav out of this deeper connection? He could want it for a stronger alliance or for more personal reasons.

Anyway, he wouldn't have to erase anyone's minds because the others never actually saw anything.

[vintagerpg]

This is B2.5: Caves of the Unknown (2018), an expansion to B2: Keep on the Borderlands produced for North Texas RPGCon 2018. This cave is indicated on the original module map with a notation that DMs could expand it with their own material if they wish. Charley Phipps wished! The main section of this module feels pretty in step with the original, perhaps with just a little more modern zip. There is a nice little werewolf encounter. Then the cave itself (really a cave system, tomb and chapel complex) is split pretty evenly between bugbears and undead, though there is a one-eyed living statue that seems suspiciously familiar…

Mike Badolato contributed details for three smaller cave locations — a bear den, a cave full of spiders and a small bandit encampment. Finally, Thom Wilson penned an alternate version of the original Keep’s lizardfolk encounter, fleshing what was originally a simple fight into a full-fledged side quest.

This is pretty great! Taken all together, it is a significant expansion to an already hefty original that enhances the experience. No small feat!

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

By Daniel J. Samet

AIPAC isn’t the reason why Bowman or other anti-Israel progressives lose.

They’re being ousted from office because their loony views, including but not limited to anti-Zionism, are far out of step with their districts.

AIPAC, which has been around since 1963, is a convenient target for their anti-Israel grievances.

The group has long taken flak from opponents who argue that it nefariously influences American policy, but its critics are mistaken.      

Take campaign contributions, for which AIPAC is often attacked: AIPAC has the same First Amendment rights that all Americans do.

One wonders why this one group, whose staff and supporters are significantly Jewish, is so criticized for backing candidates who support the world’s sole Jewish state.

And AIPAC is far from the nation’s most prolific campaign contributor: According to Open Secrets, it has been outspent by 11 other political action committees this election cycle.

When was the last time you heard someone deplore the machinations of the National Air Traffic Controllers Association, for example?

If AIPAC-haters had any interest in being honest, they would acknowledge that the group is hardly the only one to give money to politicians it supports.

And the money AIPAC spends often doesn’t bear fruit — in this and past years, it has backed its fair share of losing congressional candidates.

Some of AIPAC’s fiercest critics, like Rep. Rashida Tlaib (D-Mich.) and Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), remain in office.

[opheliajupiter99]

Death's Cold Embrace Pt. 2 (OUAW Horror Fanfic)

*The rest of the Carnivale had settled down to camp while they waited for Gricko to come back with Frost. The moon had hung high in the sky for quite some time now, and still Gricko had not returned. Hootsie whimpered, her head laid in Gideon's lap as he attempted to comfort the poor girl, dearly missing her papa*

*Torbek had fallen asleep, while Twig sat near Kremy, pouting as she looked up at him* "What if morning comes, and Gricko's still not back?" *She says, cupping her hands together as she speaks. Kremy looks out towards where Gricko had walked, sighing heavily* "Then we go find him." *He says, pausing for a moment to think before continuing* "...But if both of them end up lost, it must've been something real bad. The two of them ain't pushovers, after all."

*The two of them fall silent, trying not to imagine what kind of horrible monster could've not only taken both of them, but taken them without any of them noticing. Gricko was a bit easier to explain, as he'd wandered off out of sight; but what about Frost? One moment he was there, the next he wasn't. What could've possibly done that?*

*They continued to wait, but eventually the ache of sleep called to each of them, one of one, until each was tucked away in their sleeping bags. As Twig slept, she dreamed; but it wasn't as she normally dreamed. She was lost in black, swirling emptiness, only occasionally greeted with a sudden image, flashing through her head like a burst of lightning, scattered glimpses of a tower and a figure looming in the shadows. Then, she heard a voice...*

"Twigfield...come to me..."

*The voice sounded like Frost, but the tone in which the voice spoke was much darker; a haunting, looming threat. Despite this however, she found herself lulled by the strange voice, and her mind seemed to grow numb. So numb, in fact, that she didn't even realize that, while her mind remained dreaming, her body rose from its sleep, and her tired wings fluttered gently towards the voice, like a moth's wings would flutter towards a flame*

*When morning came, the remaining carnies found themselves missing now three members of their group. Torbek hugged Hootsie close, as they both were on the verge of a panic attack at this point, while Kremy and Gideon sat close together, trying to stay strong for the sake of the others*

*The husbands were silent for a few moments, Kremy with his legs tucked up against his chest, and his hands over his knees, head leaned against them as he stared off at nothing in particular, while Gideon sat with his legs outwards, fists clenching and unclenching as his face formed a scowl* "How the fuck could this happen?!" *The Genasi finally blurted out, startling the poor owlbear cub nearby that nuzzled closer to her Bugbear uncle*

*Kremy put a hand to his beloved shoulder* "Hey, hey, calm down, a'ight? It's gonna be-" *He began, before said beloved pulled away from his grasp, glaring at it* "Don't tell me it's gonna be fuckin' alright! Somethin's pickin' us off one by one right under our fuckin' noses! We don't know what the fuck happened to em, where they went, or even what the fuck it even is! I think I'm well within my goddamn wrong's to not calm the fuck down!" *Kremy just hung his head as Gid had this outburst, staring down at the ground in shame*

*After a moment, Gid's face softened a bit, sighing* "...I'm sorry. I just...what the fuck are we gonna do, man? Whatever this is clearly has a leg up on us - I mean we can't even spot it long enough to see em poof away." *The somber gator remains silent, still staring at the ground. Despite his demeanor of being a 'solo act' as it were, not caring for anyone beyond himself, he couldn't help but be filled with a venomous self-loathing whenever one of his dear family was harmed, especially by something he felt like he should've been able to stop in some way*

"...Bait." *The gator said finally, Gid blinking* "What?" "Bait." *Kremy repeated* "If whatever it is picks us off one by one and waits for some kind of right time to do it, then...one of us could be bait. Even if we don't -see- it show up, we could get some kind of idea of what it is, what it does, that sorta thing." *He said, his expression and tone both somber, knowing full well the kind of risk that person would be putting themselves under. The husbands look between each other, silent for several long, miserable moments; both were willing to sacrifice themselves, but neither wanted to lose the other*

"Torbek can go." *Torbek said suddenly, breaking the silence. The pair both looked to him* "N-No, come on man...we can't let you get locked up again." *Gideon said, frowning with concern. Torbek shook his head* "Torbek can't raise Hootsie. Mr. Kremy and Mr. Gideon promised they'd raise Hootsie if anything happened to Gricko, didn't you?" *The husbands look to each other, and each nodded slowly* "If Torbek has to get locked up again - or even die - Torbek wants to do it for his friends. And cause Torbek -chose- to do it, not cause somebody else told him to."

*Gideon felt tears come to the corners of his eyes; he knew that desire all too well. He always felt that he didn't care much how or when he died, as long as he died a free man - and a death in service of his friends would be the greatest death of all. He took a deep breath, and nodded* "I can't take choice away from a man whose had so few. We'll keep you as safe as we can, man...I promise." *Kremy frowned deeply, his guilty conscious only growing heavier - but Gid was right. It was Torbek's choice. He shut his eyes tight as tears formed, and nodded slowly*

*The group agreed to wait until nightfall to enact this plan, as that's when whatever it was they were dealing with seemed to strike. They ate, and enjoyed each other's company in the meantime, trying to keep Hootsie's spirits up as best they could, as well as steel their own nerves*

*...All while a dazed little Brownie sat perched high up in a tree nearby, staring blankly down towards the campsite, as her new master watched through her eyes*

[dndfantasygirl]

Amongst the Stars (Chapter 2: Secret Keeper)

Rating: Mature Word count: 2.8k Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo, slow burn, little sister, Astarion needs blood

Summary: Skye helps Astarion satiate his hunger.

*Link to AO3 Post

*Link to Previous Chapter

------------------------

The next day came fairly quickly as the party awoke to the chirping of birds and the sun gracefully shining its rays over their camp. After packing up, they continued on their trek. Skye was sure to separate the gith and the cleric, lest they tear each other apart...which would've been highly entertaining to Astarion. He did quite enjoy their bickering.

The air genasi glanced over at her younger sister, who was dressed in a tunic bluer than the sea, adorned with golden accents along the poet sleeves. The tunic seemed to be enchanted with a protection spell, as a faint, radiant aura emanated from it. Around her neck was a teal collar, separate from the shirt, fastened with a golden amulet. The amulet bore their circle's emblem, beautifully engraved in sapphire at its center. She wore simple black leather pants and brown boots that matched her sister's.

Skye stopped walking and knelt in front of her sister. "Your pigtails are crooked," she muttered, taking out one of the golden fasteners and adjusting it to match the other.

"Skye," Misty warned as her face began to flush in embarrassment.

"Chk, you have terrible priorities," Lae'zel grumbled from the back of the party.

"Well apparently, you've never been a little girl, Lae'zel," Shadowheart said with a smirk. The gith looked over blankly before rolling her eyes.

"There." The air genasi stood back up after she was finished and continued walking. She scanned her surroundings for a moment. "Wait a minute. I know where we are," she mumbled, turning to the others with a soft smile. "We're near a druid grove."

Yet, as they approached, the situation quickly turned sour. A brief argument between a druid and a tiefling was abruptly interrupted by a horde of goblins, followed by a menacing bugbear and a snarling worg. Instinctively, Skye assumed command, directing Shadowheart, Misty, and Astarion to take the high ground, while the rest moved in close.

Both the cleric and the rogue were impressed by the young air genasi's remarkable skill with a bow. She inhaled, aimed, exhaled, and released—each arrow striking its target with flawless precision.

Astarion's crimson eyes were drawn to the battle below, where Skye secured her quarterstaff to her back and extended her arms. In an instant, her body began to glow, her joints shimmering like stars with luminous lines connecting them, forming a living constellation. A glowing blue shortbow appeared in her hand as she opened her eyes, now radiating with a golden light. She pulled the bowstring taut, a radiant arrow materializing in the notch. With a steady exhale, she released it, watching as the arrow set one of the goblins ablaze in radiant fire.

Skye glanced behind her to check on her sister, only to be confronted by her worst nightmare. A goblin was sneaking up on Misty while the trio above remained focused on the targets below. Taken off guard, the air genasi quickly aimed a radiant arrow at the vile creature, but was struck across the back with a club. She shouted her sister's name in a desperate warning, but Misty didn't comprehend the danger. Instead, she aimed an arrow at the goblin attacking Skye.

Misty jumped at the sound of an arrow whooshing past her ear, striking a target behind her. She turned just in time to see a goblin collapse to the ground. Whirling around, she caught sight of Astarion, who was nonchalantly pretending he hadn't just saved her. She offered him a soft, grateful smile in thanks.

Below, Skye maintained her starry form, aiming a radiant arrow at the goblin attacking her. Her shot struck true, disintegrating the creature in a burst of white flames. Panic gripped her heart as she looked up at the cliff and saw the aftermath of the attack. She sighed in relief and exchanged a knowing glance with Astarion. Though he wouldn't admit to rescuing the little wisp, she was deeply grateful nonetheless.

------------------------------

Under the stars in the clearing, Skye reflected on the day's events. They had been welcomed into another circle's grove after defending it from a goblin horde. They had also recruited another infected person to aid in their quest. But most importantly, Astarion had saved her sister's life. She hadn't known Astarion long, but she was certain he was an ignorant, self-absorbed asshole. So why had he saved her sister? Surely, he had other motives. Perhaps he was simply protecting his own hide from her wrath.

Her thoughts were broken by a sudden growl of frustration. Sapphire curls sprung up with her as she rose to her feet. She followed the sound of the noise deeper into trees, where she found the vampire spawn breathing heavily, staring at the path in front of him.

"Astarion?" She paused in her steps as the rogue's body tensed. "Are you alright?"

It took a moment for him to respond, before putting on his usual charming facade. He pivoted to face her with a practiced smile and a clasp of his hands. "Darling! I didn't even see you there. I'm just out for a hunt."

Skye narrowed her eyes skeptically and began to circle him like a predator stalking prey. She observed as his facade slowly began to crumble, revealing a look of misery. It dawned on her as she recalled Astarion's performance in battle earlier: the only arrow he landed had been the one that saved her sister's life. He was clearly struggling to feed.

The vampire spawn couldn't handle her scrutiny anymore and placed his hands on his hips. "Alright, fine. I'm not as fast as I can be and I've been having trouble catching food."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Skye offered, rubbing her arm awkwardly.

"Hmm..." Astarion scanned her over for a moment, with a hand on his chin. "Perhaps, there is. I'm too slow, right now. Too weak. If I could have just a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better."

The air genasi threw her hands up defensively. "Woah, woah, woah. I was thinking more along the lines of finding food for you, not becoming a living snack."

"Ahh, Skye, my dear. Your offer is generous, truly. But you see, catching food—while commendable—would only delay the inevitable. I'm...in need, and feeding from willing donors is far less...messy, shall we say? It's a simple exchange, really. A moment's discomfort and you go unharmed, with my gratitude to boot."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Skye shifted uncomfortably, trying to look anywhere but at him. Astarion approached her, hesitantly placing his hands gently on her shoulders, sending a shiver down her spine as she finally glanced up at him.

"I understand your hesitation, believe me, but imagine the relief it would bring me. A quick sip, and I'll be stronger to aid our cause, to protect you. To protect Misty. All of us, really. You're a compassionate soul; you can see this isn't about mere hunger. It's survival, for both of us." They stood there, locked in an intense gaze until his hands slowly dropped back to his sides.

Skye replayed his words in her mind, sensing his partial honesty and the underlying manipulation. Despite her reservations, his points struck a chord. His hunting was becoming sloppy; just that night, they'd stumbled upon an exsanguinated boar while scouting outside the grove, forcing them to divert the party's attention. She groaned inwardly. She couldn't believe she was actually entertaining the idea.

The air genasi let out a loud sigh. "Fine." The vampire spawn's crimson orbs lit up instantly, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Skye interrupted him pointing a finger accusingly at him. "But one drop more than you need and I'm driving a stake through your chest."

Astarion's grin faded slightly at the seriousness in her voice. He nodded solemnly, his gaze locking again with hers. "Understood."

"Alright then. Let's get this over with," Skye muttered in irritation. She shrugged off her cerulean leather overcoat, revealing a pleated white blouse underneath. With deliberate movements, she removed the matching choker embroidered with golden vines and set both garments aside, never once breaking eye contact with Astarion.

"You know, under different circumstances, darling, this encounter might've taken quite a different turn," he purred, a flirtatious glint in his eyes, his sharpened canines catching the light.

Skye suppressed a shocked reaction to his words by clearing her throat and looking away. "In your dreams, rogue."

Astarion chuckled softly at her response. "Now, let's make ourselves comfortable, shall we?"

The air genasi reclined on the grass, her breath catching as she watched Astarion straddle her. They locked eyes for a moment, tension crackling between them. Eventually, Skye cleared her throat.

"So, are you going to drink from me, or are you just going to sit there and stare at me like I'm on display at Sharess Caress?"

The vampire spawn's expression softened, his gaze shifting to something more contemplative. He reached out with a gentle hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from Skye's face. "You have my word, Skye," he murmured. "I'll be as gentle as I can and I won't take more than I need."

The druid held his gaze for a moment longer, searching for any hint of deception. Finding none, she nodded slowly and tilted her head to the side exposing her neck to him. Astarion's expression softened further as he leaned in, his breath barely a whisper against her skin. With utmost care, he pressed his lips to her neck, his fangs piercing her skin with a gentleness that surprised her.

Nevertheless, it still hurt like a bitch and she couldn't stifle the pained whimper that escaped her lips as she instinctively wrapped an arm around him. He gently cradled her head to the side with one hand, while the other rested on the grass beside her. As he continued to drink, she felt her heart race and an odd sense of release washed over her. Gradually, she relaxed into him with a soft hum, beginning to lose sensation in her arm.

"Astarion, that's enough," she whispered weakly as she started to regain her senses.

Her words were enough to break him from his trance, and he pulled back, licking his lips. "That was...delicious."

"Don't get any ideas," the air genasi warned, pressing a hand to the new wound on her neck.

Astarion picked up her coat and choker before extending a hand to her. Skye hesitated, her gaze shifting between his hand and his eyes. After a moment, she tentatively accepted it, allowing him to help her up. As soon as she released his hand, however, she began to stumble. The vampire spawn swiftly caught her and swept her up into his arms.

"Astarion, put me down," the air genasi protested, weakly pushing against his chest.

"If I were to do that, how would you get back to camp? You can't even walk."

Skye groaned softly, and the forest fell silent around them. She could have sworn she felt his crimson eyes locking onto her multiple times as they walked.

"This is a gift, you know?" He muttered uncomfortably. "I won't forget it."

Then, her eyelids felt heavy and everything went black.

------------------------------

Letting Astarion bite her was the worst choice she could have made. She was thankful he didn't abandon her in the forest when she lost consciousness, but it was still a terrible idea. Now, she felt woozy and lightheaded, possibly even a bit disoriented—all the symptoms of blood loss. Lovely.

At the moment, she was absentmindedly helping Misty with her hair, a ritual they'd maintained ever since the girl's hair had grown long enough when she was just a babe.

"That's a pretty nasty bite," Misty's voice echoed in her ear. Skye's golden eyes widened as she realized she had forgotten to put her choker back on, leaving the two puncture wounds on her neck exposed for all to see. "How'd a spider that big sneak into our camp?"

A hand quickly covered the young genasi's mouth. "It's not that big of a deal," Skye whispered. "Don't send the party in a panic over large spiders."

Before she knew it, the party's cleric was already trudging over. Skye rolled her eyes and released her hand from her sister's mouth. "Go practice your spells. I'll join you in a moment." Misty nodded skeptically and walked over to a secluded part of the camp.

"So, I couldn't help but overhear you have a rather nasty bite?" Shadowheart asked with her arms crossed after she reached the air genasi.

"Apparently, it was a large spider," the air genasi deadpanned, her indifferent facade masking the rapid beat of her heart.

The cleric leaned in and tilted Skye's head to the side, inspecting the wound closely. "That's certainly a vampire bite."

At that moment, Skye caught Astarion's horrified gaze as he glanced up from his book, trying to appear nonchalant. Despite how much he sometimes irritated her, she had made him a promise, and she always kept her promises. She turned back to Shadowheart, whose impatient eyes were blazing with curiosity.

"There's no way," Skye finally said, causing the cleric's brows to raise skeptically. "I would know if a vampire bit me."

Shadowheart studied her blank expression with one of her own. Her gaze then swept over to the person most likely to be a vampire. Fortunately, she didn't catch his worried look because Misty began to call him over to show him the new cantrip she had learned. Astarion, usually disinterested in watching her practice, seized the opportunity to escape.

"If you say so," the cleric replied. She incanted a few words, placing a hand against Skye's neck. A blue energy washed over the air genasi, healing her wound and restoring her to her normal self. "Just be more careful in the future," she advised, standing up and walking away.

Skye released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and walked over to Astarion, witnessing a surprising sight before her.

The vampire spawn, who usually had a strong dislike for children, was sitting next to her sister, showing her how to properly sharpen her dagger. The corners of Skye's lips twitched with amusement. Noticing her presence, Astarion stood up and cleared his throat.

"Sis, look how sharp this is." Misty proudly displayed the ragged blade with a wrapped hilt in front of her.

The older air genasi studied the weapon in front of her, impressed at the sharpness. "Very nice, Mist." She glanced over, noticing Astarion had yet to move. "Hey, I need to have a quick word with Astarion and then we'll start your training."

Misty nodded with a mischievous smile as Skye gestured for Astarion to follow her. After they'd walked further into the forest, the vampire spawn broke the silence. "Thank you...for not telling Shadowheart about-"

"I promised you your...secret was safe with me, and I don't break my promises," the air genasi interrupted with a shrug, gently brushing at the gravel on the path with her foot. She stopped and turned to give Astarion a sincere look. "Look, the party is starting to get suspicious. They're eventually going to find out."

Astarion blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Trust me, I know."

"I think it's better to tell them before they find out themselves," Skye suggested.

The vampire spawn grew silent, staring at her blankly. After a moment, he nodded, albeit hesitantly. "You're right," he admitted softly.

Feeling a surge of guilt grow in the pit of her stomach, Skye reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. He flinched slightly, pulling away from her touch as if she had seared him. The air genasi let her hand fall to her side, looking away in embarrassment.

"You protected my sister from being killed by a goblin," she continued, her voice soft but earnest. "You could've ignored her, pretended like you never saw her... but you didn't." She finally met his gaze, relief filling her golden orbs. "And for that, I'm entirely grateful. So, I promise you, Astarion, as long as I'm alive, I will protect you."

For a fleeting moment, she glimpsed the vulnerability behind his mask, a flicker of gratitude in those shimmering crimson orbs of his. But as quickly as they appeared, his defenses snapped back into place, replaced by a practiced grin. "That's all I'm asking."

Skye nodded, a twinge of disappointment flickering across her features at his hardened response. "Now was that all?"

The air genasi managed an annoyed smile, gesturing back toward the direction they had come from.

[lec743-my-art]

Merry Christmas Secret Santa @primary-visions

            The day was coming to an end. The sky was painted with bright oranges, light pinks, and stark purples and indigo, just enough light for the three travelers to see by as they made it to their destination. The town was small but thrived on the travelers that must pass through to reach farther lands. There was a comfy inn called Drunk Rats. There was an obvious sign of forgers and black smith smokestacks further in town, but the three travelers were too tired to truly explore the town further than what they could see. Well, the only human of the group was tired. The two automatons traveling with the human could continue for forever if they so choose, but it was time for the two to check if anything needs oiling or if dust needs to be taken out of gears. Staying at an inn was a great place to check for such things.

            “Oh! This place is so cute looking. Do you think I should have my house here?” Soliel asked as he examined the old but sturdy building they were entering. His metal hands touched at the wood gently as he walked with the others.

            The inn wasn’t overwhelmingly loud, but it was noisy with low talking as a dwarf bard near the fireplace strummed on her lute. Candle holders caked with the remains of past candles sat against the support beams of the building as the newly lit candles’ lights danced, giving the whole place a soft golden glow.

            “You say that about every village or town we walk into,” Hati stated, ribbing his follow automat with playfulness and annoyance.

            “There are so many good places to live at!” Soliel said, getting defensive. “I want to live at the perfect place.”

            The human companion, the artificer of the group, sighed at their bickering. They left Hati and Soliel to bicker like siblings that have been together for far too long as they approached the owner of the inn at the front desk.

            “Hi. Do you have room for the three of us? We’ll just take one room.”

            The human woman looked like she was nearing her golden age. Maybe in her fifties if the gray in her blond hair told them anything. The front desk woman had on a very low-cut dress that was brown and blue in color. It looked nice on her. She looked at the artificer and then at their bickering companions behind them. “Are those things yours?”

            The human companion sighed in disappointment at that. “They’re my friends.”

            There was a pause as the older woman looked at the artificer with one cocked eyebrow. They didn’t elaborate to the woman, so she shrugged then said, “It’ll be two gold pieces per night stay. Do you have any horses or livestock with you?”

            “No, it’s just the three of us,” they said as they dug out ten gold pieces. Then they placed them on the counter and the woman took the money and placed a key in its place.

            “Your room will be upstairs, on the right, at the end of the hallway.”

            “Thank you.”

            They went back to their automaton buddies. They overheard them fighting over hypotheticals about how they would handle fighting a bugbear. Hati was proudly saying he’d demolish the bugbear with the perfect strike while Soliel gave him the most leveling look an automaton could give when his face is only a mask of an artistic sun.

            “Okay. Let’s go boys. I hear a bath calling my name.”

            “Coming,” they both cheered as they followed the artificer up the stairs.

            The next day, as the sun rose, Soliel was the first to rise and he went to explore the little town. It was full of people. Mostly humans, as he’s accustomed to seeing, but he has also noticed there’s another thriving population of lizardfolk as well, along with a small, odd population of dwarves, elves and half-orcs. It really did seem like a nice town, with old but well-kept buildings, a flower shop, a sizable food market, two smith shops, a ceramic shop and a stone and wood cutter shop. Soliel circled back to the food market to buy a little snack for his sunshine friend but as he browsed what the food stalls had to offer, he noticed that there really wasn’t much to see. The portions were much too small for what size they should have been, or they were so old that they were starting to rot a bit, which isn’t a good sign.

            Soliel looked to the current food stall owner, who’s stall that he was browsing, and it was a young lizardfolk man sitting behind the cart. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. His scales looked dull, and his face looked gaunt, like he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. He was wearing a simple tunic shirt and it hung off him loosely.

            “Excuse me my good man.”

            The lizardfolk man blinked a bit, like he was taken out of his thoughts and then he turned his snout towards the automaton. He blinked some more before his eyebrow ridges raised higher on his face as he regarded Soliel. “Yes?”

            “I was just wondering, is your town coming across hard times recently.” The bardic automaton motioned towards the lizardfolk’s wares for emphases.

            The lizardfolk man sighed as he leaned back into his chair. “No. It is not recently. It’s been four years.”

            “Oh my! What’s wrong?”

            “Look. I don’t have time for your curiosity, stranger. Either buy something or leave.” He didn’t say it with any power. He sounded like a man who’s extremely tired.

# # #

            “What do you mean he won’t tell me more! I rolled high on my charisma! I persuaded the heck out of him!” Sun whined to you, the Dungeon Master.

            “Look Sun, that’s just all he’s willing to answer. He doesn’t see you as a threat but you’re just an automaton to him. He doesn’t know your backstory, so he doesn’t think you’d understand anything more than what he said.”

            Sun slouched in the kitchen chair as he crossed his arms with a huff.

            Moon chuckled playfully as he rolled a twenty-sided die between his fingers. “You should have threatened him if you wanted more information.”

            Sun sighed, his voice box glitching to give it a gravelly affect. “That’s not the point of my character.”

            From across the kitchen table, Moon shrugged with little remorse at him.

            “So are you going to leave the lizard man alone, Sun,” you asked.

            “I’ll buy those carrots and leave,” he said in defeat as he leaned his flat face up to the ceiling in another show of pouting.

            You nod and then turn back to Moon. “Okay. What is Hati up to then as this is going on, Moon?”

            Moon gave a thoughtful hum as he considered his choices.

# # #

            Hati snuck through the gray alleyways of the town in the early morning. Having left his little artificer to sleep alone as soon as Sun left. He was scouting out the town for the richest people he can steal from. Some small part of Hati could practically hear Soliel say how he shouldn’t steal from people or how wrong it is. His long-time friend and assumed brother isn’t wrong, but Hati doesn’t care. He likes the thrill of stealing from the rich and using it for himself to buy whatever he wants. He sometimes even gives what he steals to the poor kids they encounter on their travels and that usually shuts up Soliel.

            Eventually he came across a government building that was just starting to wake up. At least that’s what it seemed to Hati from his observations. The automaton snuck into the building through a locked back door. The few people he crossed as he snuck through the government building were some general staff that were talking about how hard it’s been to feed their kids and when they are going to be able to farm properly again. Hati shrugged at that as he continued his way to where he deduced the mayor’s coffers to be.

            He narrowly avoided being caught by the mayor’s secretary as he was trying to unlock the door that led to the mayor’s office and therefor to their coffers. The secretary was running out of the office after getting news of some kind. Hati didn’t care for what for, he just wanted money and to get out of there. He inspected the mayor’s office to find it looking drab. Usually, a head of office has a luxurious setting with unnecessary gold-plated items. Hati mentally shrugs at the lack of finery. Relegating it to the town being too small for the mayor to get away with. He found the safe and unlocked it with ease. All that was in the safe was a pouch of thirty silver pieces.

# # #

            “Ah! What!” Moon complained over Sun’s laughter.

            “That’s all you find Moon,” you repeat.

            “Noooo! My character isn’t interested in stealing if it’s not gold. How does a government office not have gold!” Moon ranted.

            “Well, obviously this town isn’t doing so well,” Sun stated with smug satisfaction.

            Moon could only grouch some more against Sun and you.

            “Will you now check to see if there are any papers or documents for why this town is falling on such hard times?” Sun pleaded.

            Moon mechanically sighed, then said, “Fine… What do I roll for again DM?”

            “Investigation.”

            Moon took his twenty-sided die and tossed it on the table. It made little clacking noises before settling. “What does a 12 get me?”

            You cleared your throat. “You’ve been in plenty of offices before. You easily spot that there is a locked filing cabinet in the back right corner of the room, behind the mayor’s desk.”

            “Alright. Let me just roll for Slight of Hand and unlock this sucker.” Moon rolled his twenty-sided die again. “Yes! An eighteen! So all together that’s a twenty-seven.”

            “Tell me again why you chose to be a ranger and not a rouge,” you asked.

            “It’s too on the nose,” Moon said with a shrug.

            “Sometimes, being on the nose isn’t so bad,” Sun stated.

            Moon gave his sunny counterpart the best dead pan look that a robot can when their face is frozen in a permanent smile.

# # #

            Hati muttered to himself as he looked through the papers. Documents of the dead. Documents of newborns. Documents of housing. Reports on farms. Hati decided to look through those a bit more closely. From his quick scanning of the texts, Hati found that the town is having a bit of a bear problem. He would have looked more into it now that his curiosity has been piqued, but then he heard someone running down the halls towards the office he was in, and he had to bail out of the nearest window. He initially tried to jump through the window while it was closed, but he wasn’t strong enough to break it and instead had to open it and then jump out the window. He jumped with the grace of an egg falling out of a nest and hurting himself as he landed on the ground. He quickly ran back to The Drunk Rats Inn.

            The Artificer was drinking water-down beer for breakfast as it seemed that was all the Inn Keeper and Cook were able to provide as food, when Hati and Soliel came back from their exploring. Hati was walking like his ass was broken and Soliel was holding the sadist bundle of carrots the Artificer has ever seen.

            “What have you two been up to?”

            “Something is wrong here,” they both said. Then in sync both automatons turned to each other and pointed at each other at the same time, saying, “You too?”

            “Slow down. Why don’t you two sit down with me and then tell me what’s going on,” The Artificer stated.

            “Uh… Soliel, do you mind giving me a hand?”

            The sunshine robot rolled his head as he let out a mechanical sigh. He sat the carrots on the table in front of their human friend then he pulled out his ukulele and sang a little song to heal the broken machinery of Hati’s ass.

            “Thank you,” the moon themed robot said cheerfully.

            Soliel only grumbled a bit in response as he sat down with him and the Artificer. Hati went first telling the group about what he found, and he rolled his head as they told him how much they disapproved of him trying to steal from people… again. Then Soliel talked about his little romp through town and how lovely it is here but also how everyone doesn’t seem to be all that well fed.

            “You think that has anything to do with those bear problem reports you found, Hati,” the Artificer asked.

            “I don’t know how a bear or even a group of bears could make things go so wrong around here. I would think the local rangers would have taken them down by now.”

            “Maybe they don’t have rangers in this area,” Soliel suggested.

            The Artificer stood up and took the carrots with them and said, “Welp, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go talk to some elderly.” The Artificer took the carrots with them, taking a bite out of them as the three of them walked, unfazed by the bad taste of the old carrots.

            The three of them found the town square. There were young children gathered together talking or napping under the shade of the buildings and trees. A few young adults were cleaning the town square, making sure it’s clear of dirt and leaves. The elderly was in their own corner sitting around tables and playing boardgames of some kind. The three adventurers approached the elderly. Only one acknowledged their approached as he looked at them suspiciously.

            “What do you strangers want?” The old man had a long gray beard, and the sun shined on his bald head, as if he somehow took the hair on his head and decided to place it on his face to shake up the last years of his life. He was rail thin, but he still had a fire in his eyes, like he’d use his skeleton-like hands to cut you open with just his fingernails.

            “Well, my friends and I have noticed that your town seems to be having a hard time,” the Artificer started, “and we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong so we can help if we can. So what’s going on?”

            “No! That’s none of your concern!” The old man stated as the other elderly nodded in agreement. Except for one lady who was hidden by the crowd saying, “Uh, we could use the help actually.” The old man turned towards the old woman’s voice and yelled, “Ah, shut up, Linda, they weren’t asking you!”

            Hati took a step forward and lend towards the old man, then said, “Well now we are.”

            Soliel was already walking towards Linda, “Pardon us.”

            The old lady was bald, and you could obviously see that she didn’t have any teeth, but she still had a smile on her face that made the initial hostility surrounding them, seem dimmer.

            “So what is going on, Madam,” Soliel asked politely.

            “There’s this monstrous bear out in the woods that has three heads—”

            “Bah! Your eyes are bad! It was a normal bear!” The old man stated.

            “We weren’t asking you, now shut up,” Hati told off the old man. He was officially cowed by the moon themed automatons’ words.

            “Please continue,” Soliel gently coxed Linda to continue.

            “There’s this three-headed bear in the woods. It’s been giving us trouble ever since it’s been here. We’ve sent out so many rangers after it, who have never come back, that it’s felt useless to even ask for help anymore.”

            “Well, we’re willing to help. We can take care of it for you,” Soliel said.

            The old man spoke up with a shake to his voice, “Pah! What makes you three so special? I bet you’ll be asking for money for this service you are wanting to do.”

            The Artificer quickly spoke up, “Of course. It’s only just enough money to support us to the next town we travel to. We need to eat and survive as well.”

            The old man grumbled to himself as the other old folk nodded to that sound logic. The three of them get as much information as they can out of the towns folk and they bargained that if they succeed in killing the supposed three headed bear, they would be paid thirty gold pieces. Once everything was settled, the three adventures gathered their things and made their way into the nearby forest.

            As the three of them walked through the forest, Soliel decided to softly strum on his ukulele to pass the time. Their human friend was lost in their own thoughts thinking about what new magical buffs they can add to their automaton friends. Hati took the lead as the ranger of the group and was trying to find bear tracks. After an hour of walking, Hati had suddenly stopped, and the other two-party members ran into him as a result.

            “Dang it, Hati, what was that for. I was on a rhythm,” Soliel complained.

            Hati put a finger to his face mask and made a shushing noise. Then in a whisper he asked, “Do you hear that?”

            The three of them stood silently in the softly lit forest. All that was heard was the slight rustling of the breeze through the trees.

            “I don’t hear anything,” the Artificer whispered. Soliel nodded in agreement with them.

            “That’s right. There’s nothing. Not the sound of birds. Not the sound of wolves. Or dear or ferrets or any other animal that belongs to this forest. It’s too quiet. It’s like not even the insects are here.”

            The Artificer felt goosebumps prickle their skin and Soliel huddled closer to them as they gripped their ukulele a little tighter.

            “Did this bear just eat everything that’s in this forest?” The Artificer asked as they seriously took in their surroundings.

            Hati took out two arrows from his quiver for him to grip in each hand. “I would bet good money on that being the case. Let’s keep moving. I know we’re getting closer to it.”

            After that, the three of them got lost in the woods for an undetermined amount of time, because Hati was too proud to say he got lost after saying something that he thought made him sound cool. Eventually, the three of them got back on track. At a clearing in the woods, the party then found a big, dark cave with dried blood splattering its entrance and bones scattered everywhere.

            “I think it would be nice if one of us knew necromancy,” the Artificer whispered.

            “Yah, we could raise a whole skeleton army here,” Soliel whimpered.

            “Welp, no time like the present to get this done,” Hati said. Then he ran screaming into the cave making his friends jump at the sudden noise.

            Exasperated, Soliel yelled, “Hati why!”

            The lunar automaton moved too fast for them to react and all they could do was watch him disappear as his voice echoed inside the cave. The two of them stood quietly as it got quiet in the cave.

            “Oh good. It seems the bear isn’t in it’s cave right now,” the Artificer sighed.

            Soliel felt a hot, wet breath on the back of his scrawny neck. The solar automaton whipped around so fast it made the human jump and the two of them came face to face with a bear. Its head is so large it was as long as Soliel was tall. Its eyes were blood shot, and drool dripped down its fuzzy maw. Then something moved around the neck of the giant bear, almost hidden and blended into its long, dark brown shaggy fur. It was two more heads, smaller than the head in the middle, but still just as dangerous looking. For the longest moment, the two of them stared down the massive creature as it sniffed at them. All six eyes then shifted to the Artificer.

            “Oh, no…” They said as they started to back up from the encroaching bear.

            In a panic Soliel cast Confusion on the three headed bear, music filled the air making the world seem wobbly and weak. His human friend shook their head against the music, resisting the magic the solar automaton cast. The three headed bear wasn’t so lucky as it recoiled and stood on its hind legs, looking as tall as a two-story tall building.

            “Sorry!” Soliel yelled.

            “It’s good! I’m good!”

            An arrow shot forward and then hundreds more followed suit. The bear cried in pain, but only attached a near by tree. The two heroes turned to see Hati standing at the entrance of the cave, his bow smoking from using the spell Conjure Volley.

            “So, the cave is empty.”

            “Oh, you don’t say,” Soliel snapped back.

            “Now’s not the time to argue,” their human friend yelled as they took special manacles out of their bags and placed them on their arms. Then like angel wings, four giant olden mechanical arms appeared on their back, having casted Bionic Arms on themselves. “I’m going to try and pin its heads.” They climbed up the bear, using the arrows lodged into its hide as leverage to climb up faster. The human managed to get on top of the middle head of the bear, but just as they were about to grapple the jaws shut, clarity came back to the bears eyes, and it immediately tried to shake the Artificer off. “Aaaaa! Heeeeelp!!!”

            Soliel strummed on his ukulele and sang a song called Hold Monster. Immediately the three headed bear was still, but its body trembled as it tried to fight off the magical hold it was under. The human sighs in relief.

            Hati shot two arrows from his bow at the bear, both striking true. The second arrow caused thick spiney vines to spout out of the ground and wrap around the three headed bear’s hind legs. Even though it couldn’t open its mouth as it was still being held down by Soliel’s magic, they heard it cry viciously from the pain.

            The Artificer placed a pair of hands on each head, then used Taser. A charge of deadly electricity raced through the bear, causing its fur to smoke. Then the bear managed to break free of Soliel’s magic and one of the smaller bear heads managed to grab the Artificer by their boot. The bear shook them around before releasing them. The human flew through the sky and hit their back against a thick tree trunk and flopped to the forest floor.

            Soliel reactively ran towards their human friend but as he tried to get to them, the bear managed to catch him with its paws and sent the automaton flying backwards, making him disappear into the bushes of the forest. The bear then got to work on biting the spiney vines off of its body.

            Hati let loose another spell of Conjure Volley. Hitting the bear mostly in its back as it was in pain but still focused on getting itself free from the vines. The lunar automaton pulled out two arrows from his quiver and then charged at the bear with the arrows held high above his head.

            The Artificer struggled to get back on to their feet, even when using their extra limbs as crutches. They looked up in time to see Hati flinging himself at the three headed bear. “Hati! It’s not even restrained anymore!” Their friend ignored them as the ranger robot continued to stab the now free bear with his arrows. The bear set its eyes on the human and growled hungerly at them as they started to lumber towards the only flesh and blood being within a hundred-foot radius. The Artificer pulled out a disk from their bag and as the bear got closer and opened its jaw towards them, the human threw the disk into their mouth. The bear retracted a bit, finding the odd disk tasting funny, then the human magically set it off and the disk blew up like a bomb in the bear’s mouth. The middle head gurgled in pain as the other two heads howled in pain with the middle head.

            Soliel managed to finally drag himself out of the bush and came back into the clearing seeing that Hati was hanging on to the bear’s chest hair, and that his human friend was essentially cornered by a bloody mouthed bear. The bardic robot shook the leaves out of his ukulele and then started to strum Vicious Mockery, telling the bear how stupid it is and how weak and pathetic it is and how it doesn’t belong in the forest. It shook the three headed bear to its core. Hati barely managed to get out of the way as the bear fell to its stomach.

            Hati aimed an arrow into the sky and as the arrow fell towards the downed bear, he cast Conjure Barrage and hundreds of arrows rained on the bears back. The bear let out a weak roar.

            The Artificer kept their distance from the bear as they pointed with three hands at the creature. Then they let loose another Taser spell at the bear’s head. With one last weak gargle, the bear died before the three of them. The three of them sighed in relief.

            “That was rough,” the human stated as they wiped sweat off their brow.

            “That was an invasive species if I’ve ever seen one,” Hati remarked as he put away his bow and arrows.

            “Yah, and maybe next time, don’t just run headfirst into a problem,” Soliel scolded his fellow automaton.

            “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

            “Guys, let’s cut its head off so we have proof we did the job. Soliel, do you have any juice left to heal me. I’m not feeling too good.”

            The solar robot got it’s ukulele in position, “Of course.

# # #

            “And then the three of you managed to drag the heads to the town and the towns folk rejoiced and had a big celebration in your honor for actually defeating the monster that has been terrorizing them for years. You were given your thirty gold pieces like you were promised and extra travel supplies as an extra thank you for what you three did. The end.” You said, finishing the campaign.

            “Yay! Happy ending,” Sun said as he clapped.

            “Thank you for this. We really enjoyed playing this with you,” Moon stated.

            “Of course. I’m happy you two were interested in trying it with me.”

            Sun nodded with a giddy mechanical hum and Moon held your hand. Then the three of you cleaned up your dnd mess and continued your day doing chores and personal hobbies.

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 4

Warnings: canon typical violence, injuries, feelings are hard, Astarion being himself

Summary: Astarion ponders a question: are spiders or feelings more terrifying?

Notes: I love these idiots. (This was sort-of edited, so if anyone spots anything that should be changed, feel free to let me know.)

Enjoy! <3

Read on ao3 here!

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

After clearing out a destroyed village taken over by goblins, rescuing the deep gnome said goblins had tied to a windmill, and catching a bugbear and an ogre…ahem…in flagrante delicto, the entire team are too tired and/or injured to want to move anywhere else that day. So they set up camp inside the village in the late afternoon sun. Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, and Karlach all set up their bedrolls in the middle of the largest house, Lae’zel chooses a different building altogether, and Astarion…

Well. He has a bit of a bone to pick with Sable, so he follows her when she heads down into that blacksmith’s forge they found. He sees her shoulders twitch as she realizes that he’s following her down, but she says nothing. 

“I get the distinct impression that you’ve been avoiding me, kitten,” he says conversationally as they make their way down the stairs. “You’ve barely even looked at me outside of the fighting.” 

“Hard to look at someone after you’ve made a fool of yourself in front of them, don’t you think?” comes the muttered reply as she drops her gear about ten feet from the forge. 

He drops his own gear, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. Considering that he’s taken on the role of the group’s archer, he wasn’t injured during all the fighting, though after sweating through tough fights, his curls are beginning to droop just a bit. She hates that she finds it so cute. “Oh? Is that what you think happened last night? Curious…” 

“What do you mean, ‘curious’?” she grumbles, picking up her bucket and heading right back for the stairs. He sighs under his breath but follows. “Seems pretty obvious to me.” 

He rolls his eyes, his own bucket swinging from his hands. “You’re joking, right? Did you think I left because I disliked your reaction to me?” She pushes open the door to the outside and steps through, and he frowns as he hurries after. In a much more hushed tone, he says to her, “Because that’s not it at all. Seeing you squirming in arousal under me was…delicious.” 

“Then…then why did you leave?” she replies, just as softly, ignoring the heat his words bring to her cheeks. “Because I still feel like I did something wrong.” 

“Kitten,” he groans, rubbing a gloved hand down his face. “I told you last night, you did nothing wrong!” 

“And then you immediately left right after!” she hisses back. “With no explanation, either! You really think that ‘no nothing’s wrong’ and then just disappearing into the night is going to put anyone at ease?”

He opens his mouth, blinks as he really thinks about it, then sighs and shakes his head. “All right, you…may have a point there. I’m sorry that I made you feel that way, Sable. My intentions were the exact opposite in fact!” She turns her head to look at him in surprise, and he looks…regretful. “I thought I was pushing too far, and wanted to give you some space,” he explains softly. They reach the well, and the vampire starts winding up the rope. “I…realize now I should have explained that, instead of taking an appropriately dramatic exit.” 

She’s quiet for a long moment as the bucket nears the surface. Deciding to finally throw all caution to the wind, she asks pointedly, “With anyone else, you don’t care if you push. Why do you care with me?” 

Astarion is so thrown off guard that the bucket rope slips through his fingers as he stares at her. And instead of the splash of the bucket hitting water, they hear the loud clattering echo of wood shattering on stone. 

They blink at each other, then look down the well for the first time. Darkness all the way until, several dozen feet down, there’s a sort of…green glow. 

“Well. That can’t be good,” the vampire mutters. 

“I’m…” She trails off as, while they watch, a shadow passes over the green glow. 

A shadow with a rather lot of legs. 

“Shit,” they both say at the same time, and run for the main camp.  

////////////////////////

The matriarch phase spider finally goes still, dead and leaking caustic blood onto the stone ground in the enormous cave system they found down the empty well. Shadowheart and Sable rush to heal those who’d been poisoned, several people groaning in pain, everyone injured in some way. 

Sable rushes up to Astarion, who’s looking worse for wear on the ground nearby. “A l-little help, kitten?” he gasps out, clutching his shoulder. The vampire had shot out at least three of the giant spider’s eyes, earning himself a particularly nasty sting in the process. 

The druid drops to her knees beside him, already working on his armor and shoving an antidote into his hand in the process. “Drink that. It’ll taste like shit, but drink it anyway. I don’t know anything about phase spider venom.” 

His leather armor falls open as he uncorks the bottle and downs it in a series of gulps. “Gods, that is disgusting!” he gasps, face scrunched up, and she’s not sure if it’s from pain or the taste. 

“Yes, well, better something gross than being dead,” she murmurs, pulling out a knife. “Hope you didn’t like this shirt.” 

“Wait–” But it was too late. She’s cut open the fabric over his shoulder to see the wound. “That was my favorite shirt! Mostly because it’s only one of two, and this is significantly nicer than the other one!” “Get Gale to use mending on it. He will if you ask nicely,” she mutters. She leans down and peers at the wound, but the antidote is already working, angry, visibly blackened veins turning mostly invisible under the skin again. “Honestly, poison shouldn’t affect you at all, you’re technically undead.” 

“A great mystery,” he says through gritted teeth as she pours clean water from a small vial into the wound. Once she’s happy with it, she casts a healing spell, brushes a kiss over his shoulder, and rushes off to Karlach who’s puking over the edge of the stone ledge they’re on. 

Astarion blinks, frozen. 

Then he blinks again, and woodenly turns toward where she’s rubbing Karlach’s back, her hand coated in an ice spell to not get burned. 

Did…she just…?

He’s almost completely silent as they get patched up and look around for loot. On the ground near one of the stone pillars, around an odd pit, they found a gem on the ground, the one that the soggy journal earlier in the caves had mentioned. They’d found a couple very interesting items that Gale will identify in the morning, and trudge wearily back up to the surface, exhausted. 

Sable is stumbling in weariness by the time that they get back to the blacksmith’s cellar. Astarion catches her as she nearly falls down the stairs, and simply lifts her into his arms. She tries to protest, but he gently shushes her. “Better this than smashing that pretty face open,” he murmurs, and sets her down on the edge of the cold forge. 

They’d never managed to get any water from down in the well, so the vampire pulls out a water skin, wetting down her washcloth and cleaning the gore from her face. “...I can do it,” she mumbles, her eyes already closing. 

“I'm sure you can. Thank me tomorrow,” he replies. It’s quiet for a moment, before he asks, a little uncomfortably, “Why did you kiss my shoulder?” 

“...why did I what now?” she asks, nearly slurring in fatigue. 

“After you healed me. You kissed my shoulder. I mean, granted, it was very quick and extremely chaste. A little disappointing, really.” Lies, he can still feel the warmth of her lips if he thinks about it. 

He’s trying not to think about it.

She snorts softly, and a tiny smile appears on her lips. It looks almost wistful. “Sorry, should’ve asked.” 

“...appropriate thanks for my autonomy aside, that still doesn’t answer the question.” 

If anything, the smile grows. “When I was a kid, whenever I was hurt it was my momma that would heal me. She’s who taught me my first healing spell. And every time she healed up a scrape or cut or bruise, she’d give a little kiss to that spot. ‘For luck,’ she’d say.” Half asleep now, she lets out a little, content sigh. “Wanted to give you some good luck. You deserve it.” 

He stares at her, and whether it’s the fact that she’s nearly asleep and thus not looking at him, or the fact that she’s caught him so off guard, no one knows. But his expression is pure, unguarded, a mix of shock, a tiny hint of ever present suspicion…and gratitude so thick it makes his throat tighten. 

In his silence, she falls fully asleep, her sudden, gentle weight against his chest a testament to her slumber. With no one there to see, he lays his cheek gently against the top of her head, wraps his arms around her tightly, and sighs. “Well, shit.”

[ashanimus]

This Belos Essay is Gross

I fully admit I did this to myself. I voluntarily went HEY you know what animates me like a vengeful eidolon to the point where I could chew solid stone while laughing? Ragging on the history of Christianity in America! Oh look! A cute gay show about disabled witches sticking it to Puritan Cult-Peddling Murder Grandpa (also known as Ash's personal bugbear)? SIGN ME UP? Lets dissect this dreadful son of a bitch in the context of his theological bullshit!

But then I get to the parts where I have to think about Belos and all the Grimwalkers and its sicker the more I think about it. Everyone knows of course its just. The depth of the violation and desecration and depravity in its own context is Beyond Grotesque.

I'll elaborate more on this later, but Puritans were obsessed with how a person's remains were kept. This scabrous donkey's bastard was mutilating the unburied remains of the brother he murdered for 400 years. The thing that makes me insane is that any attempts to tell himself "I'm saving your soul, Caleb" had to have petered out pretty quick in that process. He discards the Christian name. Starts calling them all Hunter. Witch Hunter, a title, a job description, a fucking factory tag. He even started branding them after a while, which we know now is a death sentence no matter how perfectly obedient they could have hoped to be. He knows he's not saving Caleb. He's farming the experience of his death.

"I'm starting to think you make those things just to destroy them."

Belos demurs, "Of course I don't, Collector. It hurts every time he chooses to betray me."

The fact they included this line from the Collector--someone who has observed and gleefully enabled this sick fuck for centuries--seems to suggest Belos' denial here is a weak one.

He does enjoy it! They show us! As soon as Luz and Hunter enter the mindscape, he goes out of his way to sabotage Hunter's loyalty. He gleefully drags the kids around, building up the reveals that will make Luz crumple to her knees and destroy Hunter's entire world. The timing. The showmanship of it all. He smiles when he flicks Hunter's little forelock.

"What a shame. Of all the Grimwalkers, you looked the most like him :)"

These are the words he intends to kill this kid by. The dude has been playing this game for CENTURIES and still enjoys the process of torturing them before he slaughters them. How many Grimwalkers died with some variation of "What? Who is Caleb?" on their lips--but the part that haunts me are the ones who lived long enough to say "Sorry" before they were killed. Phillip isn't saving Caleb's soul, he's punishing him over and over.

So why does he do this? How does the Puritan part factor into it? Other than the pleasure of murder that is. It makes me think of how the main purpose of missionaries is to experience rejection. Particularly when it comes to sending kids out from the church. The purpose of the whole affair there is to reinforce that The World Bad, and Rejects the Word of God, and the Only REAL community you have is the Church. They understand you. This creates not just the insulation that gives them a chance to practice the script of the Rejected Religious Warrior, but create distance from reality.

Belos has been working on the worlds most horrible DIY project. He's been doing it for 400 years. What on earth can sustain that laser focus, him working while his body monsterizes and turns to evil Ghibli goo around him? Man hasn't eaten real food in 400 years.

His brother's death! The point of no return in Phillips villain origin (inciting incident: the moment Caleb fell for Evelyn). Each incarnation is going to to have a witch's pointed ears and the Grimwalkers pink eyes, wear different scars that Belos himself stuck there, but it's still his face. Sure it's a younger face than Caleb had when HE died, but at this point it hardly matters. Phillip is farming Caleb's death to re-inspire the moment where genocide entered his heart. These witches have taken you from me, Caleb. I'll make them all pay.

But first, I'll make YOU pay.

This bitch was going to take time out of the Day of Unity to kill Hunter if he got him. My god. Given that he was pressed for time I like to think it would have been quick but god if this is any indication...ugh.

I feel gross! 8)