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1001scoganmusings · 3 years

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Thoughts of you consume me

Warnings: [18+], glory hole kink, oral, brief mentions of vaginal sex, teterophilia

What!? Black hat discovering he might have feelings for Flug in the middle of fucking someone else? More likely than you think babes.

Word count: 3.3k

Minors for the love of god plz stay away

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Black hat looked at the business card in his hand then up at the neon sign that read pleasure palace in big bright red letters as it flashed on and off above him.

It was a private club who solely catered to high ranking villains only. You could only get in if you had been invited or were brought as a guest.

They were pretty hard to find considering the location changed from week to week. This insured absolute secrecy not only for the patrons but also the staff.

He had heard about this place from a business associate of his and had been told it was great for, letting off steam. He pocketed the card placing it in one of the hidden pockets of his coat as he walked up the front steps pulling on the brass handle of the door and walked in.

His footsteps clicked against the pristine flooring that was polished white marble with a gold trim.

He heard soft chattering as he walked through the lobby full of other villains waiting to get in.

Some of them were buyers from him and not even high ranking. The nerve to even claim to be he thought.

Delicate roses cut from ruby were scattered along the marble columns. Emerald cut in to exquisite leaves and vines that spiraled down the length of the column complimenting the dark red walls behind them.

Along the walls were Grecian paintings in golden frames. The paintings showed star crossed lovers or forbidden romances such as Eros and psyche. Classy but maybe a bit too over kill thought black hat as he passed by them.

A thin and lanky werewolf rushed over to greeted him. “Good evening lord black hat.” He said giving a polite bow. “If we had known you’d be coming we would’ve had someone greet you upon entering our fine establishment.”

“It’s fine,” Black hat said waving away anymore apologies the wolf might have. “ -just lead the way.”

“Right.” The werewolf said uttering a nervous laugh. “Please right this way.”

He could feel the indignant and jealous stares from the other guests. Angry that they had not been treated with the same level of respect.

But really he didn’t see why he needed to be checked in seeing as he was the highest ranking villain there.

Ridiculous really. The werewolf led him through the mahogany double doors to a huge room where people were dining and drinking. The werewolf bowed one last time leaving black hat on his own.

Inside up above a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling reflecting the soft candle light from the tables giving the room a romantic feel to it. Soft music played in the background as men and women of all kinds sat at tables drinking and smoking. Flirting with one another trying to gain attention from the patrons.

He saw a gargoyle man heatedly kissing an incubus woman in one of the corner booths.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist as she ground her hips into his.

Their limbs tangled around one another making it hard to tell where one ended and one began.

Further in a minator stood in front of a large glass tank with a love stricken expression on his face as a mermaid with pale blue skin and black eyes blew heart bubbles at him from underwater.

She batted her lashes at him coquettishly. The scales of her tail reflecting the room’s warm light giving it a dazzling shimmering effect.

He passes by a group of scantily clad werecat women that were already entertaining it seemed.

A goblin sat in a secluded corner of the room on a loveseat with his head thrown back and was moaning softly as two of the werecat women had their heads in his lap.

Each massaging one side of his large balls in the palm of their hands while simultaneously running their tongues up and down his shaft, purring as they did so. He brought his head up to look down just as one of them took the tip in to her mouth as the other laved at one of his balls. His big hands tangled in their hair carful of their sensitive ears as the other women kissed on his mouth and neck. One of them caught black hat staring and winked at him. Her jade green eyes playful as she threw him a flirtatious fanged smile. He paid her no mind and kept walking to the desk in the back of the room.

A pixie woman with tawny brown skin greeted him as he arrived. She wore a dress that looked as if it was made out of delicate white butterfly wings that accentuated her own translucent gossamer wings.

Her beautiful opal eyes even more striking against her green eyelashes.

She smiled at him dimples showing as she tucked a lose piece of her green hair behind her pointed ear revealing a golden ear cuff encrusted with rubies.

It ran from the tip of her ear all the way down to her earlobe.

“Hello Lord Black Hat.” she said in a high cheery voice also bowing her head politely, her Scottish accent thick.

“I am Mrs. Demir. How may I be of service to you this fine evening?”

“I was told there were fine entertainments to be had here.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as he spoke.

“Oh yes we have all kinds here.” she smiled at blackhat, showing a full set of small razor sharp teeth. Her mouth stretched thin at the corners making it look as if her skin didn’t fit her body quite right. As if it were too small for her. She was in his opinion horrifyingly beautiful. The kind of woman he might try to bed any other night. “What per say were you wanting sir?”

“Something private.” He emphasized the last word.

“All out rooms are private sir. Its what makes our establishment the best.” she said trying her best to sound reassuring.

“No,” he said correcting her. “- I mean I prefer for this encounter to remain completely anonymous for both parties.” Black hat wasn’t in the mood for fake pleasantries tonight. He wanted to fuck and get out as soon as possible.

“Oh, of course my mistake sir. Forgive me for misunderstanding.” She said flustered at having gotten such an important customers request wrong. She quickly continued on trying to cover up her mistake. “Will this be an overnight visit or-“

“No I will be leaving right after.” He said gruffly sliding a hefty wad of cash to her across the desk.

“I see.” she said thoughtfully as she opened the register and deposited the money in to it. Her thin long fingers reaching under the desk an pulling out a key card. “Then if I may, I suggest room 27. They have such compliments from their regulars. I think they’re exactly what your looking for.”

She gave him instructions to go on through the double doors and up the flight of stairs to the 2nd floor. Once there she instructed him to be sure to only enter the second to last stall once he was inside the room.

Black hat did as he was told going through another set of mahogany double doors and up another set of stairs. The inside was much larger that it looked from the outside. He supposed it was part of the enchantment that was placed on the building.

He walked down the hallway following the numbers 17, 18, 19, he passed a couple who looked as if they just couldn’t be bothered to wait till they were inside their room.

A woman, human it looked like with her dress hiked up panties moved to the side, and a tall hulking Sphinx man who was wildly driving in to her.

Her hands and face pressed up against the wall as one of the spinx’s clawed tipped hands that was wrapped entirely around her waist and was he pulling her back on to his cock making wet squelching noises as he did. His other hand held up her leg gripping the back of her knee. The angle letting him drive deeper in to her sopping wet cunt. Juices running down her leg as her body shook from the force of his thrusts. His wings expanding each time he bottomed out. Her cries of ecstasy echoing in the quiet hallway. 25, 26, 27. Thank hell he thought done with seeing others in the throws of passion. He scanned the key card through the card scanner and pushed open the black door to room 27 hurriedly walking inside. He heard the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing through the room.

The room was bathed in a dim neon pink light that lined the ceiling giving the room an eerie yet seductive air about it. He had half expected it to be dingy and filthy but to his surprise it was relatively clean. Not a very common thing for places like this but a very welcome change.

He passed by a single sink and mirror followed by urinals that lined the walls on both sides as he went further in to the room till he came to two stalls in the corner. He could hear a heart beat on the other side indicating that there was indeed someone in there.

He opened the door to the unoccupied stall as he was instructed and went in locking it behind him. There was a sign on the stall wall written in black cursive letters that read knock and insert here with an arrow pointing to a hole in the wall.

Excitement ran through him. He’d never tried a glory hole before. He undid his belt and fly pulling out his 11in cock already half hard. He sighed softly giving himself a couple of firm strokes feeling himself harden in his hand. It had been awhile since he let himself indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. His schedule was so booked lately that there just didn’t seem to be any time for it. The last straw being when he started to imagine what Flug would look like on his knees with his lips wrapped around his cock as he gagged on it during a meeting with a very important client. The thought shocking him enough to reschedule and rush to the bathroom to take care of his problem. He knew right there and then that something had to be done before he acted out of foolishness. No good would come of having liaisons with employees. None.

Black hat knocked before sliding his erect cock through the hole. He let his hands rest on the wall in front of him as he waited. A warm hand on the other side took hold of him and kissed the tip. The warmth of their palm making him sigh as they rhythmically stroked him from base to tip.

He shivered as warm soft lips trailed up and down his shaft leaving hot open mouthed kisses in their wake. Tongue occasionally peaking out to trace up and down all the veins and ridges on his cock.

Black hat let his head fall back as he felt the tension in his whole body melt away with each caress of their hand and lips. This. This is what black hat had been craving, no needing. Someone to just worship his cock. No questions or useless polite talk of any kind. Just someone who gave him exactly what he asked for with out any hassle or emotional crap.

He groaned low in his throat as the tip of their tongue teased the underside of his cock making it twitch for them. Maybe it really had been too long if they were so easily able to pull these reactions from him black hat thought to himself.

He didn’t need to see to know that pre was dribbling out from his slit in thick rivulets. He felt their tongue lap at his leaking slit and lick up the cum that leaked down the sides of his shaft making sure to leave him clean and shiny with spit. The image of Flug down on his knees lapping up his cum came to mind. The image making him utter a choked moan. Why the fuck was he thinking about Flug right now?! What the hell was wrong with him?!

He shook his head trying to clear his mind but again his ridiculous mind brought up the image of Flug on the other side of the wall on his knees swirling his tongue slowly around the head teasing his slit with the pointed tip of his tongue.

Black hat bit his lip to keep from moaning as warm breath wafted over his cock driving him crazy with want. Maybe not seeing had been a mistake.

“Fuck.” he gasped, his hips gave small thrusts trying to get them to get on with it. But to his dismay they just continued their onslaught of tantalizing and teasing touches. Black hat tried hard to picture someone else. Anyone else, but it was no use. No matter who he imagined his mind kept turning back to Flug. He no longer was trying to fight his traitorous mind about Flug. Letting it win in what it wanted to see.

He pictured Flug closing those pouty pink lips of his around the head and bobbing in earnest, massaging the underside with his tongue just as they were.

Fuck picturing his pathetic and clumsy scientist doing something so perverse, so delectably sinful, was turning him on like nothing else ever had.

He’d need to revisit why later. But for now he threw it to the dogs and let his mind wander back to his fantasy.

His legs shook at how rough imaginary flug was being. Tugging on him just right with every pull back making sure to hollow his cheeks giving just the perfect amount of suction. It was pure bliss.

Drool dripped down black hat’s chin as he could hardly contain his noises anymore. God it was humiliating to be heard like this but at the same time so exhilarating. He could let go and not worry about anything because this person would never know who he was. It was maddening to him how relinquishing control during sex was turning him on so much as if he was a young demon again getting his dick wet for the first time. He wasn’t used to giving up control seeing as he had no one he could really trust. Not true his mind whispered going back to Flug. As a demon it was just unheard of for something like that to happen. But then again when had he ever followed demon societal norms.

He heard an inhale from the other side as felt the head of his cock slip into their throat wishing with all his being it was Flug. The in human roar he let out echoed in the empty bathroom. Tentacles sprung up from his body slithering up the wall and over the floor as they gaged around him. He pictured Flug looking up at him with those big doe eyes filled with worship and adoration. Gaging his reactions to see what best pleased him. And god was Flug good at pleasing black hat, even if black hat never acknowledged it.

Flug kept going till all of him was sheathed in his throat. His legs shook from the effort it took to just stand still and just enjoy the wonderful wet heat around him. It was taking all his self control to not just phase through the wall and just start face fucking whoever was on the other side.

Flug hollowed his cheeks pulling back torturously slow, lewd slurping noises sounding too loud in the quiet of the room. He kept going till only the tip of black hat’s cock was in his mouth before going back down taking him all the way down again and again and again.

He let his forehead rest against the wall as the claws on his hands dug in to it leaving deep scratch marks. He closed his eyes pressing himself as close to the wall as he possibly could surrendering to the talented mouth on the other side all the while imagining it was his idiot scientist.

Fuck it felt good. Too good. Black hat could feel himself nearing his end already and the session had only just begun. His cock feeling as though it was melting from all the wondrous attention it was receiving. How Flug’s tight hot throat was squeezing him just right every time he swallowed around him.

Was it simply the anonymity of this encounter making him feel this good? Or was it his fantasy of Flug so attentively sucking his cock? He wasn’t sure and at the moment could be bothered to care as they moaned around his cock. The vibrations threatening to send him over the edge when they suddenly pulled off.

He let out a menacing growl that reverberated throughout the room. He felt them line themselves up with his cock and thrust back on to it. Their walls fluttering around him as they tried to accommodate his monstrous size. Black hat waisted no time and began thrusting into the tight channel.

The image of Flug laying flat on his stomach sprawled out on black hat’s bed. Black hat’s hands on either side of Flug’s head as he drove in to him wildly from behind making Flug scream his name. Oh how he’d fuck Flug, fuck him until flug begged him to stop. And even then he might not.

Fuck he was close, so close. The flimsy stall wall shaking with each rough thrust. Liquid fire pooled in his belly ready to burst at any moment. Hurried wet slapping noises and muffled moans came from the other side as their body suddenly clenched down hard on his length. His eyes slamming shut from the intensity of the pleasure. The acrid tang of blood filled his mouth as he bit his lip to conceal his voice as he thrust in a few more times before he too came. Hilting in them one final time before stilling his hips as he shot thick hot spirts of cum in to them, a soft whisper of Flug’s name falling from his lips. Black hat’s thighs trembled as their walls milked him so deliciously.

All that could be heard now was his own labored breathing. Black hat let his softening cock slip from their body. Tearing off a few pieces of toilet paper from the holder and wiping himself clean before tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants.

He exited the stall and walked out of the room. Black hat snapped his fingers and teleported himself back to the mansion, not particularly in the mood to see people rutting against one another like animals.

As he walked the halls back to his office he accidentally bumped too hard in to Flug as he turned a corner knocking the man down to the ground.

“Sorry boss I didn’t see you there.” He said in a nervous tone as he looked up at black hat.

There they were again. The disgusting thoughts. His mind telling him to pin Flug to the ground and fuck him till he couldn’t walk properly.

“Boss?” Flug said confused by black hat’s silence and intense stare.

Flug’s voice bring him out of his thoughts. “Stay out of my sight you pathetic worm.” He said as viscously as he could walking right over Flug and continuing on to his office. Keeping his desires in check was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

#villainous #villanos #paperhat #black hat #dr Flug #teteraphilia #monster x human #black hat x dr flug #monster lover #demon x human #lemon

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shadowron · 3 years

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Summoning Elementals in Total Eclipse for Shadowrun (1st Edition)

One thing I really like about this adventure is that it forces the players to think quickly. Like DNA/DOA, they must start the run without much chance for Legwork, like Silver Angel, there is a strict time limit for the job (by midnight), and like Queen Euphoria, it involves kidnapping, but here:

There are 4 members of The Elementals to grab, and

Each of them has their own bike.

Of the 16 archetypes in the core book, only 5 of them start off with a vehicle. Hope they didn’t have to take the tube to the meet. Because they either need to follow the band members, or break into their studio and find their home addresses.

Any how many runners are there?

If fewer than 4, then you can’t follow all of them.

And do you need the entire team to nab each one, or can you split up?

The adventure doesn’t give any guidance for recommended party size.

What if they get spotted?

What if one member warns another and calls for backup?

Accordingly, how the individual snatchings happen depends upon just what the players choose.

Holding the Wind

If they get the drop on Windy – pretty easy. She’s washing her hair, because she’s a teenager in a 1950s sitcom apparently. Maybe she manages to get off a shot with her light pistol, but otherwise, she’s taken.

If they don’t get the drop on Windy – holy drek. She has called in two of daddy’s merc chummers – each armed with a light machine gun – and has Lone Star on the way.

Number of Condition Monitors: 6 (two mercs, 4 cops)

Dousing the Fire

Wildfire is visiting his arcade full of thrill gangers, so whether he notices the runner or not, extracting him is not going to be easy.

If they get the drop on Wildfire – they have to sleaze past Micro (dwarf technician), armed with the Centurian Industries Laser Crescent Axe

and Thud and Blunder (troll bouncers), sporting the fashionable and stunning Reinco Shock Gloves.

I wonder if they bought these at Bloom’s Troll Emporium.

If they don’t get the drop on Wildfire – the above, plus six Gang Member archetypes armed with Tiffani Self-Defenders.

As a kid, I had a squirt gun that looked like this.

Number of Condition Monitors: 9 (1 dwarf tech, 2 troll bouncers, 6 gang members)

Aside: Video Games in Wildfire’s Arcade

Street Samurai Showdown

Mage Fire

Dragon Wars

Corp Wars

Nuked Pre-Pubescent Samurai Dragons

Panzer Hunt

Unicorn Nights

You know which one you want to play.

Shooting Bambi

Here we meet the rest of the Brothers Bloom, Hoss and Josh: owners and proprietors of Bloom’s Troll Emporium. Their equipment and skills really illustrate the divergences that can occur in any family, goblinized or no. Both of Bambi’s brothers were supposedly already established in their careers when they took over dear dad’s business, but still back up Bambi at the store.

What sort of careers do you think they have?

Hoss here is a Troll Street Samurai with some equipment changes: gone are the Smart Goggles, Ares MP-LMG with Deluxe Gyro-Mount and Smartgun Link, Panther Assault Cannon, and Harley Scorpion. It gets replaced with a Colt Manhunter:

I won’t bother posting Josh’s stats because he is straight-up the Former Troll Bounty Hunter from Sprawl Sites. No changes.

Then there’s Bambi.

I know other British comedies too.

As noted earlier, Bambi is the Rocker archetype with troll stat modifications and a RIDICULOUS amount of weaponry.

So, these three really should have no trouble taking out any group of runners, but just to be that way, they also have pet wolves.

Four of them.

Number of Condition Monitors: 3 (Josh, Hoss, Wolf)

Uglying the Coyote

Now we come to that final, crucial member of the band, the Native American Keytar player Coyote. While the text states he has an apartment “on the other side of town”…

It’s in Canada. You probably don’t know it.

…the team finds him on his community service night, where he drives out and visits a group of tribal squatters near the Redmond/SSC border. After they try and fail to sneak up on them, they will have to fight Coyote along with 5 gear-stripped Tribesmen,

A Snake shaman with a Power Focus 2 and Force 6 Field spirit at his beck and call.

Number of Condition Monitors: 7 (5 squatters, 1 shaman, 1 spirit)

In Conclusion

All told there are 25 condition monitors printed in these sections, so including the band members themselves, your shadowrun team must get through 29 opponents if they wish to successfully kidnap the band. Good luck, chummer.

#shadowrun #clerks the animated series #the young ones

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marvel-ousnesss · 5 years

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The pirate and the witch (part two)

Word count: 2568 Pairing: Harry Hook x daughter of Narissa!reader

Summary: Y/N, an orphan vk who was taken to Auradon at a young age, returns to her old home by request of the crown prince. However, things tend to go south at the Isle of the Lost.

Warning: Mild cursing

A:/N: Okay people, here's the second part! I'm really enjoying writing this and already working on part three. Feel free to ask if you wanna be tagged and to point out any mistakes or typos that you see. Enjoy 😬

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE DISNEY DESCENDANTS CHARACTERS NOR THE SANDERSON SISTERS. All credit goes to the creators, writers, and producers. Same with the HP charms, credit goes to J.K Rowling.

Part one Mobile masterlist Part three Part four

— So, how was it? — Asks Ben, who's currently sitting on the couch of his and Chad’s dorm, with the brightest grin plastered on his sweaty face. His tourney gear discarded on the floor next to him, I can tell he took it out in a rush right before he called me.

I chuckle at his excitement; kind of resembles a golden retriever puppy. Sitting cross-legged on the simple bed, I stare at the screen of a tablet with the royal crest of Maldonia on its green case. Just parted ways with Harry and, even if it’s hardly four pm, I’m utterly exhausted; but Ben won’t stop calling me until I tell him everything.

— Where to start, where to start,— I pretend to think, scratching my chin with my index finger and frowning my brows. — Being chased by bandits, being kidnapped by wicked witches, who, by the way, may have found a way to practice magic, or having a VIP ticket for Uma’s pirate ship?

— That does sound like quite an adventure, but let’s cover the basics first. How’s the place?

I sigh, setting jokes aside. — Miserable, Ben, whatever you discussed with your father will seem like a children’s tale.

—Something needs to be done about it — he states, — but I’m gonna need your help in convincing my father.

—I’m sure it will be fine, he’s all about second chances, right?

I don’t even know if I completely believe what I’m telling Ben. I remember standing outside of the Royal Courtroom, fidgeting, uncertain of what those who I thought were meant to be good and forgiving would decide for me. The funny thing is that Auradon’s oh so great and just king was the most reluctant to let me be part of his kingdom, claiming that I had an intrinsically wicked nature.

However, I manage to spit my words between gritted teeth— See? You’ll do great.

— I really hope so.

— Look, for now, just sit tight and behold my wonderful narrative skills. We’ll plan our scheme later, — I wink.

— Okay, go on.

So, I tell him everything, no detail spared. Even if it is supposed to be a prison island, it is atrocious to have people living in such conditions. From the poorly constructed infrastructure to the lack of resources that has resulted in people fighting like animals over things such as a rotten apple or half a loaf of bread.

— I’m glad you saw it all first hand, and with all of this, I really believe that we can convince my father to do something about it.

— What I’m most worried about is the embargo that he placed, many goblins are out of jobs because of it, and the malnutrition and sickness here have drastically raised since.— I frown my brows.

— We’ll need statistics to show that, and maybe he’ll abolish the limitations on resources and re-establish the goblins’ jobs.

— Keep talking Mr. crown prince, I only yawn when I’m utterly fascinated.— I roll my eyes and smile when I hear the familiar voice of my second favorite prince.

— Manners, Charming, the grownups are talking,— I fake scold as Chad pops on the screen behind Ben.

— Wow Y/N! Really looking like the evil witch you are— he snarls.

I don’t give it any thought ‘cause a) it’s Chad who’s talking and b) I am dressed in a purple leather jacket and a navy blue top, not to mention my smokey eye makeup. So, I brush him off.

— I miss you too, Chaddy. But, I'd love you to shut up before I go and make you.

—I guess it is true, ‘once a villain, always a villain’.

— Guess it is true, Prince Chad charming, of Cinderellasburg, is even more delicate than his mother’s set of porcelain.

— Seriously, though, don’t let the Isle get to you too much.

— Are you, gods forbid, worried about me?

— Nah, just don’t want real VKs living among us, do we? — when he says this, he playfully punches Ben on his shoulder.

…

—And so, I ended up flirting with none other than Harry Hook in the flesh.

When I utter the word flirting, Chad’s nose scrunch makes both me and Ben burst into laughter.

—Yes, Chad, we flirted, and, dare I say, I enjoyed it. Anyway, after we escaped the cage, we walked together and he ended up inviting me to ‘keep the heid’ back at Uma’s ship,

— I think that may be good for getting to know them, — suggests the crown prince. — You know, figuring out which of them are in worst scenarios.

— Sorry to break it to you, Ben, but it wouldn’t be safe for Y/N to go hang with a bunch of pirates.

Even if our relationship is playful and full of bickering, Chad can get super protective sometimes. It is something that I appreciate, really, but when he smells possible danger, he tends to get worse than my mom.

— I did decline his offer but, seeing that not going would mean agreeing with dearest Chad, — I shrug — I’m gonna go. Right now.

Much to Chad’s dismay, we say a brief goodbye.

— Be careful,

— Don’t let them infect you!

I chuckle at them and hang up. Then, I put the tablet under the bed, grab my cloak, and head out the door.

…

Now closer to the docks, my ears are flooded with the stomping of dancing feet and the cheers of shanties, accompanied by what sounds like a piano and guitar duo. I arrive and cannot help but smile at the sight. Before my eyes, I find some of the most dangerous and vile people of the Isle dancing and singing around a fire that’s set on a barrel in the middle of the ship.

I approach the crowd and, when I catch the first mate’s eye, he stops playing and laughs.

— I knew you’d come. Couldn’t resist m’charms.

I smirk, — just came for a good time, Hook. Don’t you ruin it already.

— Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your new toy? — asks the sea witch, emerging from the crew of pirates, who are now quizzically looking at our interaction.

— I’m Y/N.

— Ooh, the witch, — she inquires. — Harry hasn’t shut up about your little encounter earlier today.

— Hasn’t he? — I quirk a brow at him but don’t even get him to blush.

— Gonzo, — intervenes Harry. — Take over would ya? I’ve business.

The music continues to play and the pirates continue to sing and dance. A blond guy, Gil, I believe, offers me a pint of beer, but I politely refuse. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he drowns the whole thing in one gulp and I quietly chuckle. I proceed to take off my cloak and leave it in the rack, embracing the cold wind. Then, I approach Harry.

— So, are you gonna teach me how to dance this thing, or did you invite me to stand in the corner of the deck all night?

— Are you trying to flirt with me, lassie? — he asks.

— Do I look like someone who’s interested in you? — He’s about to respond but I cut him off, — you know what? Don’t answer.

I grab his hands and pull him to the designated dance floor with me. I’m genuinely curious about this type of music, back home we don’t have anything similar. Next thing I know, he hooks his arm through mine and we’re jumping, spinning and cheering around the dance floor, avoiding a collision with the rest of the crew members.

After a few songs, I suggest we take a break and grab something to drink, so we make our way to the barrel located at the end of the deck.

— Ain’t gaunnie tell me that was yer first time dancing shanties, ‘cause I ain’t taking mince.

He speaks as he fills the first glass with beer and hands it to me, then he scratches the back of his neck with one hand and places the other on his belt buckle.

— Well, believe it or not, it was — I defend myself, fixing my simple hairdo.

— then let me tell ya, yer a natural.

— thanks, — I smile.

He looks at me with curiosity.

— err... I mean, of course I am.

After he fills his own glass, we sit on the front edge of the Lost Revenge’s plank and let our feet hang above the water.

— Why haven’t I seen you 'round, — he takes a gulp of his drink.

I try to do the same but encounter an unpleasant sensation, so I take a small sip and place my glass on the floor, next to me. — I already told you, lone wolf.

—Bullshit. I know the lone wolves, —he claims — easy prey for the crew. Besides, ain’t seen you at school either.

— I don’t go too Serpent prep.

—Oh… you attend the Witch school?

— Not exactly, — I release a breath, not wanting to get further into the topic — but, let’s just say I don’t like having attention on me. How bout you, Mr. first mate, aside from the badass handsome pirate act?

Truly, not to my surprise, he avoids my twist to the conversation. —Ooh, so ya think I’m badass and handsome too…

— Don’t let it get to your head, sailor, no one likes a cocky pirate. — My words come together with a playful side push.

— Aww lass, yer just lying to me in me face, — he whines, — you seem to drool over this cocky, badass, handsome pirate.

A bit frustrated, I exclaim, — Such a dickhead!!! How do they put up with you?

Then, our eyes land on the figure who had just stopped behind me.

— We just do this… — Uma tries to push her first mate off the ship, but he holds onto the railing.

— Funny, captain, — grumbles my date (if one could call it like that) — ya know the crew’s all at my feet.

Uma rolls her eyes, — Yeah, right. The only one ‘at your feet’ is little hellcat here.

At this, he scoots closer and smirks, attempting to place an arm around me, but I slip away. — Don’t get your hopes up, Pirate, haven’t hooked me yet.

Once again, the captain’s voice captivates our attention. — Hey Harry, why don’t you bring me and your new conquest some more beer?

I glance at my half-full glass, — I’m good.

— Nonsense, I insist.— Uma’s gritted teeth hint that she’s not asking out of politeness. In fact, she’s not asking at all.

— Aye aye captain.

As soon as we are left alone, Uma takes the spot that was previously occupied by her first mate, — Don’t know you, so don't trust you. Straight to the point, why would a random wannabe witch like you pop out from nowhere and come to my ship?

My answer is simple and blunt, — If you haven’t noticed, I’m here with Hook.

—That’s not what I’m asking so don’t play dumb with me —, she does her best to stay calm. — Just wondering… haven’t seen you around and, when I do, you have the biggest flirt of the Isle suddenly interested in you, there’s gotta be more to your tale; power, dominance, what d’you want?

My feet swing as I think of a quick response. — Nothing, really. As for Harry, guess I’m that irresistible.

Uma chuckles at my words, but her smile disappears faster than it came.

—Take this as a warning, don’t you dare try anything stupid. Have that in mind and you’re welcome whenever you want. — she mocks, with an overly excited grin. — Any toy of Harry is a friend of mine.

Before I can reply, the shanties stop playing and low, menacing growls are emitted by Bonny and Jonas. We turn around and notice that the two female members of the squad that rules the Isle are now on deck with us.

Mal glides into view, with leather boots hitting the wooden floor. — Awww shrimpy… you threw a party? It kind of hurts that you didn’t invite us.

Uma huffs before standing up and then faces Mal with a demeanor that gives me the creeps. Both Harry and Gil stand at her sides, with a hand on their swords; everyone else takes no time in mimicking their stance. As for me, I stand in the middle of the crowd and begin channeling my powers, just in case.

—You know snooty little witch, you’re sounding just like your mother; a cheaper and less intimidating copy, though.

She did kind of paraphrase Maleficent.

Raging, Mal growls and her eyes emit a bright green glow.

— See? My point exactly.

Now, with more tension in the scene, Harry steps in. — And what a cute little lap dog, — he laughs, approaching Evie. When he gets to her, he deadpans — sit.

The evil queen's daughter refuses to let herself be affected, so she limits her reaction to an eye roll. — Charming, Harry.

— Okay, as much as we’d love to stay and chat, we have an Isle to run. Not that you’d understand, anyway.

On cue, they both laugh and walk away.

— Now, boys.— Mal’s voice is heard through the length of The Lost Revenge, and Jay and Carlos, who must have managed to sneak inside while the crew focused on the girls, kick and spill casks full of water and rotten shrimps all over the ship.

However, their smirks turn into frowns when Carlos’ barrel rolls over and knocks the bonfire down, making the flames take grasp of the wooden floor.

Both intruders and some crew members jump to the water as the fire grows, but I approach it and firmly say ‘aquamenty’. The water shot from my hands extinguishes the fire.

Pirates gasp and Uma approaches me with an expression of simultaneous anger, relieve and, dare I say, gratefulness. — Not such a wannabe, after all.

Harry stands next to her, smirking at me, yet his expression changes when his eyes dart to the damaged deck.

—Still, — he sighs, — the damage is pretty bad. Can you do something about it, doll?

I hesitate — I mean, I could try. But I haven’t perfected that spell yet.

I place a hand over the burnt wood of the deck and whisper — reparo.

Immediately, the floor of the deck restores itself and the broken barrel that previously contained the blaze stands back up. Satisfied, Uma goes to check on her crew.

Mental note: ask about the gang war.

Harry, however, gets a step closer to me and helps me up,— you’d be useful ‘round here, I could get Uma to let you in.

— As captivating as that sounds, I'm not really a team player.

I turn around but, before I can part, he captures my wrist, —yer breaking me heart, dollface.

— We already had this conversation, handsome, you don’t have one of those.

Tags: @aspitefullittlebeing @treestarrrrrrrr

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morris-magus-merry-miller · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: Explosive Beginnings

The day began like any other on the road. I was of course upon my trusty steed, Nathaniel, as we made our way on what was to be our greatest venture yet. For you see, I had decided to undertake the most perilous journey across the desert to find the Undiscovered Realm.

Only one teeny tiny little problem stood in the way of myself and my dear companion Nathaniel…we were lost. Horribly, terribly…lost. Not a speck of sand in sight. In fact, quite a few trees instead. It makes sense, since the town we were approaching was called Dualwood.

Oh and there was a mountain. Hard to miss the mountain. Big old thing. The guard at the front of town called it “Mt Terminus”. It’s supposed to be some sort of big important proving point for adventurers. A big important dangerous deadly proving point I had no intention of going near, for you see I already had my own important dangerous and daring quest to venture forth upon, so I hardly needed to add a mountain to that. I was certainly not afraid. Just because the mountain is huge and high up. And supposedly there’s two-headed banshees and other such terrifying monstrosities lurking in wait for the next adventurer who willingly walks straight into their jaws of defeat. And the town guard make regular journeys to clean up the bodies they can safely retrieve…

…Note to self, maybe edit this part before the final draft…

Note to self 2: less fear, more Big Adventurer Gusto

Of course, flying off course wasn’t going to put a damper on my mood. Oh no. So I found the most lovely bakery in town, ordered some local delicacies which I absolutely whole heatedly suggest if, dear reader, you ever pass this way. Splendid woman, and her bear claws are to die for. Only maybe don’t word it like that, since this town takes that kind of terminology quite literally what with the giant killer mountain looming above them every moment of the day and all that.

With a full belly and a new spring in my step, I stepped I strode boldly into town to find someone with the know-how to point me in the direction of the nearest desert so that I may truly begin my grand adventure to the Undiscovered Realm.

And there, in the center of town, I met a man of great wisdom. He was clearly a storied and well-traveled adventurer himself, for he wore the most splendid dress. Colored in majestic bright hues of reds and oranges, with a grand hat to rival even mine atop his head. It even had not one, not two, but FOUR bells upon each of its grand little horn-like protrusions. He was granting his wisdom in the form of riddles that I didn’t much understand. “Urgathoa? I hardly knew her!” Why and how would one know the Goddess of Undeath? Unless he was himself a zombie…he didn’t look it but you never know these days…

My ramblings aside! I spoke with the wise gentleman, asking him if he knew where the nearest desert is. He seemed to be under the impression I was sent by some guild or another. Perhaps, recognizing my adventuring gear, he believed me to be from the same adventurers’ guild as he? But alas, I am very much a lone wolf upon this adventure, taking to the road with none but Nathaniel for company. It’s a lonely life, especially since Nathaniel can only be summoned for about six hours at a time. But that is the lot in life of an adventurer, and so it is my burden to bear until I have reached my grand journey’s end.

Anyways, the wise man of many bells pointed me in the direction of a nearby temple. There he believed the learned clerics and holy travelers who pass through may be able to grant me guidance in my travels, and return me to my rightful path to the desert, and the mysterious land that lies within it.

Within the Temple (mysteriously named “The Temple” and even more mysteriously with a sign out front that said, and I quote, “‘Clerical’ services available”. How ridiculous is that? Nobody will believe you’re providing clerical services if you put it in quotation marks as though it is a front for something!)

Author’s note: Oh my Shelyn I think it was a front for something.

Within the Temple, I met with a grand group of lovely adventurers. There was Miss Candy, a bright and cheery human chef who also on an unrelated note looks like she could break me in half. Snap me like a twig. Probably with just her legs.

Oh dear this is starting to sound like a sex thing. Note to self, do not ever describe it like that again.

There was Miss Candy, a bright and cheery human chef with a love of pink and a surprising talent for kicking things to death. There was Sir Vigo, a mighty and powerful goblin wizard with a knack for fire and animals. Strange combination to be sure, but it works for him. Speaking of animals, there was also Issac, a druid half-orc who is so tall I have not actually gotten a good look at his face. It’s just way up there in the sky somewhere. But of arguably greater import, there was his companion, a bear named Peanut. And I do mean a bear. A literal black bear, just hanging around inside the temple, gentle as a dog. He and Vigo had a rousing conversation, although I know not what about as I cannot speak bear myself, but it would seem the magics of the universe granted Vigo such an ability. Where was I…? Oh, yes. There was also John Smith, a human many years my senior who I suspect has lived a very storied life, although he has not let on just what that story is. He said some rather off-color things in our first meeting, but I do believe there is more to this gentleman than meets the eye. (Not that I can easily meet his eye either, while he is not so tall as Issac, he is a human which generally means ‘much taller than even a really tall halfling’, and I am not a ‘really tall halfling’. I am ‘a very medium halfling’)

Here we met one Cleric Ringwald. Although the more she said, the more it seemed like cleric was an overstatement. She said she worshiped something called “The Creator”, and that the only magic she could do were some simple tricks like magic missile…which looking back, I don’t believe is even a divine spell! Regardless, she told us of a rat problem they were having, and since we were all clearly of the adventuring variety, she wanted to offer us some money and five magic stones to clear the rats out. Only it turned out quite quickly that there weren’t REALLY rats in the basement. Oh, no. When pressed about some rather odd choices in her inflection, she admitted that the creature in the bowls of the temple was a mass of slime, gore, limbs, eyes, and mouths.

For those familiar with earlier works in the M Merry-Miller collection, you may recognize such a description. In Night of the Hallowed Moon, the brave sorceress Emilia faced off against a similar such creature. A gibbering mouther. Disgusting creature in person, I must say. Its sounds alone were enough to make me wish I had not eaten just before hand.

We made our preparations. The grand team of newly acquainted adventurers burst forth into the room, where the beast awaited its demise. As a mysterious fog began to fill the room, the adventurers rushed forward, ready for what was to come.

The fog was, by the way, an ingenious ploy by dear John, who used it as a means to protect us all from the creature’s attacks. Unfortunately it also meant that hitting the creature was a bit more difficult—the fog was, after all, quite difficult for us to see through as well. But for all I know he may well have saved Miss Candy’s life, as the creature tried and failed to bite at her a number of times.

Knowing from past research that this creature would not be affected by my magical talent, I went for the next best thing. A crossbow. With a steady breath despite the (rather cigarette smelling if I’m being honest) smoke, I took aim, and infused my bolt with a nice little punch of my arcane magics. I fired with a flourish, and while I feared from the fog and the creature’s writhing that it would not strike, it struck true, sticking into one of the creature’s many eyes. There was blood everywhere. It was horrific, quite frankly.

Fortunately, Vigo used that moment to slip in closer to the writhing monstrosity. With a shout of some clever words (note to self: think of clever one-liner since he didn’t say any at the time), the feared and powerful wizard evaporated half of the creature’s body with a single lightning strike.

And this is when things started to get out of hand.

As my gallant companions went to check on a hole in the floor that seemed to be how the wicked beast had entered this fair establishment, there was a commotion outside. Myself, John, and Candy were nearest the door at the time and went to investigate. We found Cleric Ringwald packing in a frenzy within her surveillance room. She tossed some coin to her acolyte Amelia (a skittish elven woman who had apparently directed some of the other adventurers to this location) and told her to get out of town.

Ringwald turned to us when we entered and told us the same, to get far away from here. She tossed us the magic stones she had promised as payment, and said that ‘if we survived’ she would pay more for further services if we met her in Port Town. Then she cast some rather powerful magic on us which made each of us feel revitalized, and she disappeared in a flash of awe inspiring arcane might the likes of which I had never seen.

But oh, I was about to see so much more, dear reader.

You see, I mentioned we were in a surveillance room, yes? By that I mean a room with a number of scrying mirrors which all permanently showed different sections of The Temple. And into the front room stepped a man. I say a man loosely. There was something off about him. He looked like a man, yes. A man with black hair, purple eyes, and robes depicting the butterfly of Desna—which my companions later revealed was a glamour, for it actually depicted a dragonfly symbol of some unknown origin. The reason I question if he was truly a man in the traditional sense was a strange segmentation in his hands at the joints. At first glance it could be mistaken for scars, as one of my companions later stated. However something about them was off. It was less a scar in the skin and more actual barely noticeable separate segments. While my genre of choice is not science fiction, I have read my fair share, and it brought to mind stories I had read in the past of humans created from technology and steel rather than flesh and blood. I know, I know, it sounds crazy. The closest thing we have to such a thing are golems, and they are never so realistic to be mistaken for a living breathing creature. How could such a being truly exist? Quite frankly, dear reader, I know not. But I do know his power was beyond the natural order. We were about to see that first hand.

The man walked into The Temple’s entry, calling out to Ringwald. He just wanted to talk. Don’t make this harder than it needed to be. She had forced his hand. He began scattering orbs about, while humming a tune I’m unfamiliar with. John tugged at Candy’s sleeve and insisted we had to go. Now.

“Why?”

“Those are delayed fireball charges. He’s about to bring this entire place down!”

We ran, making a beeline for the hole in the basement, which we hoped would lead to safety—or at least shelter from the explosion that was to follow.

Candy quite kindly carried me, Peanut, and Vigo with her much faster legs. We leapt down the hole, and followed a tunnel that led to a ladder up. Looking back, that’s rather strange. I wonder if someone planted that gibbering mouther in the first place. But at the time we were far too busy running for our lives to think of such things. Candy practically flew up the ladder, along with John who was in a mad dash to get back to the stables. It would seem he had paid a stable hand to watch over his daughter while he was in town buying supplies, and he needed to get to her in case the explosion reached that far. Once we made it back above ground Vigo, Issac, and Peanut went with John to check on the stables, as Vigo’s trusty mount Gordon the Ram was stabled there as well.

This left myself and Candy to see when the mysterious dragonfly man descended from the exploding Temple and to the center of town. A storm had whipped up, with a fury of thunder and lightning positively cracking open the sky—but no rain to join it.

The man was chanting in tones that I recognized as Celestial, but I am unfortunately not well versed in that language. However it would seem John was. Over the magical stones his voice spoke to the rest of us, and he told us that the man was about to do something terrible to the entire town, and to get out of there.

Candy had other ideas.

With me still upon her back, she ran at the villain. She leapt forward, posed to kick him and interrupt whatever terrible spell he was weaving.

The storm grew more violent, the clouds swirling and turning an unnatural pink hue. Then everything went black.

And then we woke up, on the ground before an empty town square. It was dark and silent. The stars were above us in a clear night sky, but the stars didn’t twinkle. Birds and butterflies were frozen in place in the air. There was no breeze, and the grass beneath our feet remained static with each footfall, frozen into whatever shape our feet pressed it into. The people in town were equally frozen. Not a breath, not a blink between them. Candy and I were the only ones in sight still moving.

We made for the stables, where we knew our fellow adventurers had gone. There, they were moving as well. But John’s daughter was not: frozen in a moment of fear, with the stablehand shielding the young child from harm, equally frozen. Somehow Vigo’s ram Gordon was fine, still moving and ‘baa’ing as a ram should.

We tried to brainstorm why we were able to escape the effects of this spell, which the more magically inclined members of our group identified as a potent mixture of a Stasis spell on a massive scale and Miracle—the most powerful of powerful divine magics. The best we would think of was that whatever spell Ringwald had cast upon us had also protected us from the spell that had otherwise pulled an entire village out of the natural flow of time.

As if to prove our theory, Ringwald’s acolyte Amelia pulled herself limping from the nearby rubble of the Temple, the only other person we’d seen in town left unaffected besides ourselves. She needed a moment to catch her breath, so we continued to brainstorm while she did.

Vigo wanted to climb Mt Terminus, believing the treasure at the top would be necessary to make us powerful enough to face the monster who had done this. Issac was in disagreement—he’d been living in this town for months, and had seen first-hand how deadly that trip is. According to him only one single group of adventurers had ever reached the top and lived to tell the tale, and they were the best of the best. Our inability to face this monstrous man was proof enough that we would die upon the peaks of the mountain long before we reached the treasure—and with us, all knowledge of what had happened in town. The rest of our band of adventurers believed that tracking down Cleric Ringwald would be the ideal next step. She seemed to have some mysteriously powerful magic of her own, and a history with this individual. Vigo wasn’t happy with this plan, as it might be putting us right back into the line of sight of the man whose magic broke the natural order.

Issac was finally able to talk Vigo into it, promising to join him on venturing to the top of the mountain after we got Ringwald and unfroze the town. None of us had any intention of facing this man again if we could help it—except for possibly John, who sounded rather keen on punching him in the face. I can’t blame him, his daughter is on the line after all. I can think of a few faces I find rather punchable myself that would probably come back to bite me afterwards. But that’s neither here nor there.

Once it was agreed we would head to Port Town to find the cleric who may or may not really be a cleric, who has some connection to the man who may or may not really be a man, Amelia asked to tag along since she had nowhere else to go. We happily agreed. While we prepared to set out, Amelia showed us how to use the magic stones—called the Stones of Far Speech—which we could use to talk to each other from a great distance, as John had done when trying to warn us about the dragonfly man’s spell.

On our way out of town I summoned Nathaniel, ready to head back out onto the open road—this time with a number of companions and a new destination in sight. It wasn’t quite the adventure I’d been looking for, but it appears adventure found me none-the-less. And really, isn’t that what being a daring adventurer is all about?

(note to self: you used ‘adventure’ 3 times in 2 sentences, find some synonyms before the final draft)

#entry #pathfinder #dungeons and dragons #pathfinder campaign #d&d campaign #a totally normal horse

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spackeets-written-madness · 5 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

The Kingdom of Fife was quiet, so Ser Proletius and his Knights of Crail spread throughout the kingdom to help the people more directly. Proletius had gone to the town of Enest, surrounded by thick forest to see if they had any problems. Turned out that they had a monster problem that needed solving.

On Ao3!

Warning ahead: I got slightly discriptive with describing corpses, and battle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ser Proletius and his Knights of Crail had been out in the Kingdom to patrol some of the towns and villages to secure then as well as the cities since everything had been a bit quiet. Since they were only patrolling towns, they didn’t need many knights to secure them and had chosen to go in pairs of two or three; except if you’re the Grandmaster who went to the forest town of Enest on his own with only his unicorn as his companion. He would’ve brought Farcry, but the eagle was simply too big to land in the tightly packed forest that surrounded Enest.

He had been on the road to Enest for a few days now and could now see it in the distance, his unicorn had seen it too for e quickened eir’s pace so that they could get to the town before nightfall as the sky began to darken. As they cantered along the road, they passed a portion of the forest that was felled, a good half-acre, in fact, was simply, gone. It stunned both Proletius and the unicorn enough that e slowed eir’s canter to a trot, walk then full stop to take in the damage.

Normally seeing felled trees or plains isn’t too odd especially near farming towns, but this area is very heavily forested (and he didn’t know that there had been approved logging in this area) so this had been odd to Proletius. What was odder still were the corpses suspended and intertwined in tree roots that pushed their way through the earth, the bodies crushed and pierced. The eyes and faces of the corpses were picked away by ravens and other carrion feeders. In Proletius’s line of work, seeing corpses isn’t rare nor is adding to the corpse count, what was odd about this was the fact it looked like nature itself fought back against the carnage.

The Grandmaster made a ‘hmm’ noise in the back of his throat as he surveyed what happened. He then looked to his right towards Enest a few kilometres in the distance. “I suppose we’ll find out more in the town,” he said aloud.

The unicorn snorted in agreement, turned around and started back up towards the town in a faster canter, but not quite a gallop. With the unicorn’s pace, they got to the town quickly and entered it, heading straight for the inn and had stopped in front of it.

Proletius barely managed to dismount from his unicorn when he heard wheezing and puffing from behind him. He finished getting off the unicorn, turned around to be met with a rather rotund and overweight man with auburn hair, dressed plainly, with a blue cloak and doubled over to catch his breath. Waddling up to stand next to the man was a mastiff-sized wingless dragon: a drake-hound, and a green one at that. The Grandmaster waited for the man to catch his breath.

The man caught his breath and stood straight, he took the time to brush himself off and gather his nerves before he spoke to Ser Proletius. “Evening Ser Knight! I am Munroe, the local logger overseer, that came down to this town about a little over a week ago to clear out some of this wood,” he started to explain.

The Grandmaster had interrupted whatever Munroe was going to say next. “Enest supplies the kingdom with mushrooms and truffles, not wood,” he said.

Munroe blinked and floundered. “Well, Uhm, not yet the town won’t be. I came to change that and brought some men with me from my village to help out, locals haven’t been helping us, which isn’t a problem, the problem is that three days ago a monster that slaughtered half my men and rendered the rest too afraid to work!” the man finished, a bit flustered.

“A monster? See anything that would make you think that?” Proletius asked. Something had seemed off about this man.

“Oh, I wasn’t there, but I heard it from the surviving men - in the midst of fearful babbling mind you - that they were attacked by wolves and ravens, the men ran, and the ones that apparently didn’t get away in time were crushed by tree roots that had risen from the ground. I went down to the location awhile ago. So yes, it was a monster,” Munroe expanded as he patted the drake-hound at his side.

Proletius thought back to the sight he saw back before the village, the empty forest floor with the corpses of lumberjacks crushed in intertwining roots, their bodies covered in wolf bites and their eyes pecked out by ravens. It did look like a monster had attacked them, but why would it attack now? Proletius decided not to ask Munroe, he only arrived a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t know. “Thank you, Munroe, I’ll look into it,” the Knight said respectfully to the man.

“Please try to hurry, Ser, I don’t mean to rush a distinguished knight such as yourself, but I fear that the rest of the men may leave the town if the threat of this monster keeps up,” the overseer said.

Proletius gave a curt nod and Munroe waddled off with his drake-hound hot on his heels. The Grandmaster turned back around to face the inn that was his original objective and looked at the squat wooden building that sat upon a foundation of carved stone, the sign to this inn had a goblet with a crack in it and words that read ‘The Cracked Chalice’. He checked to make sure that his unicorn was alright and walked up the three steps to get inside. The barkeep will have more information he figured.

When the Grandmaster walked through the door, he was met with a remarkably clean establishment, the tables were well taken care of, the chairs and stools had some furs on the seats to add a bit of comfort and it was well lit with candles. There were a few patrons already seated at some of the tables and bar that turned to look at Proletius when he came through the door, all a bit in awe that the Grandmaster himself had come to their village. He walked up to the bar and sat down at one of the stools in front of it, his armour clanking and rubbing against itself as he sat down, his sword on his hip bumped slightly against the bar.

The barkeep saw Proletius walk in and had waited for him to get situated before he spoke to the Grandmaster. “Evening, Ser, what brings you to Enest?” he greeted.

“Making sure that everything is alright in the kingdom. Now I heard from a man called Munroe that you have a monster problem?” Proletius said.

The barkeep and several of the patrons grumbled about Munroe under their breath. The barkeep then spoke up. “We never used to have a problem with nature before Munroe and his men came to fell our woods,” the barkeep began, “but they didn’t listen to our druid when she told them to clear the woods she marked, because of animal homes and the like, and they didn’t listen, felled some trees not where she marked and got what was coming to them.”

“So even you don’t know anything about this monster?”

The barkeep shrugged his thick shoulders. “Nope. Though I saw it’s carnage, everyone did. Some kind of nature beast or spirit that they pissed off. Best to talk to Alina about it.”

“Alina?”

“The druid I mentioned earlier. She knows nature. Though it’s best you go visit her in the morning, she doesn’t like visitors this late,” the barkeep advised.

Proletius turned around to look out the window and sure enough, the sky was a lot darker than earlier. Well, he should probably sleep then. “I’ll grab a room for the night, then. As well as something to eat and drink,” the Grandmaster said.

“Sure thing, what would you like to drink?”

“Mead.” came the Grandmaster’s answer. He figured it’d be okay to have one drink.

The barkeep turned around to the counter behind him and grabbed a cup and a bottle of mead poured it into the cup, and set it down in front of the Grandmaster. “Something to eat? The cook has prepared a nice steak with some mushroom gravy for the day,” the barkeep offered for something to eat.

One of the things Proletius liked when he travelled the kingdom is trying the different foods of the villages and towns. “That sounds perfect, I’ll have that,” the Grandmaster said as he sipped at his drink.

The barkeep nodded and walked to the back to give Proletius’s order to the cook. The barkeep stuck his head out to check on the front before ducking back to attend to something else. This left Proletius alone, which he didn’t mind of course.

While he waited for his meal, he thought about the things he saw and started to pile the evidence about what this ‘monster’ might be. Admittedly he wasn’t sure, monster hunting wasn’t his expertise. Now, goblin and chaos wizard hunting, on the other hand, was in his expertise. He was brought out of his thoughts by his food being placed in front of him, that brought his focus to enjoying some food.

The barkeep stood back behind the bar and looked at Proletius as the Grandmaster ate. “So, what are you going to do when you talk with Alina?” he asked. He sounded concerned for the druid’s well-being.

“Callum, let the knight finish his food,” someone else at the bar scolded the barkeep.

Proletius simply chewed his mouthful and swallowed before he answered. “Talk to her. Listen to her, see if she spoke and negotiated with Munroe, try to help negotiations. This monster issue sounds like a relatively easy fix,” he said. At least, he hoped that it was an easy fix.

“Ah, I see. Sorry, she’s been a big help here ever since she moved here five years ago. Helping us fell the right trees and not change the landscape drastically in the process. She’s not like most other druids,” Callum - the barkeep - said.

Proletius had been quietly eating his food while Callum talked. He swallowed his last mouthful. “What do you mean ‘not like other druids’?” he questioned.

“You’ll see.”

“Is it that hard to explain?” Proletius asked in a slightly joking tone.

Callum chuckled. “Well, no, it’s just easier to see what I mean when you actually meet her.”

“I see.” Proletius went back to his food in silence and Callum left him alone to finish the meal and sleep. The Grandmaster ate his food, paid for both the meal and the room and left to the said room after the keys were given to him.

***

The Grandmaster slept well that night and awoke to the sun shining in his face, which, for a knight is not unusual but no less annoying. He got up and got ready for the day, washed his face a bit, got dressed and donned in his armour, that kind of thing. After he did that, he went to the bar to grab a quick bite to eat before he went to talk to Alina. Callum talked to him a bit while he had eaten.

After that, the Grandmaster asked Callum where Alina lived and went on a nice walk to the druid’s house to go talk to her. When he approached the house (which was five minutes off the outskirts of the village) it looked like many of the other houses in the village: squat, wooden and small. The differences to this house where the garden beds, the many ground-bird coops and feeding stations. Yep, this was a druid’s house. Proletius walked up to the door and gave it a good loud knock since he heard something fall inside the house.

“Just come inside!” came a feminine voice in answer to the knock.

Proletius nudged open the door and stepped inside to be met with a lot of red birds and a bit of chaos. There were birds on the rafters, the sills, everywhere and they looked very similar to ravens in size and shape though were a brilliant shade of red with the tail and wingtips gradient to blue, all the feathers had an iridescent sheen with the beaks and feet of the birds being yellow.

A young-looking woman wearing a plain beige shirt, brown pants and slippers came into view carrying a box with what looked to be yarn-nests in her slender yet lithe arms. Her build wasn't small or terribly thin, but it wasn't muscular either. Her long blonde hair was haphazardly brushed and pulled into a loose tail, her green eyes focused on the birds and not her guest. She set the box down and began to hand each bird pair a nest from the box, the pair flying off through the window and the next pair stepped up. They were queueing.

Proletius could see that she was immediately busy and stood near the door to wait for her to finish her job. He looked around the room he stood in, there was a small round table to his left, a desk near the table with piles of loose paper scattered on it, herbs, a mortar and pestle, other plants, a few loose feathers and quills. Above the desk were a couple of shelves that held books and a few potted plants.

“Here, Big Miss Muffet wants to go outside,” the lady said as she passed briefly by Proletius and shoved something into his hands to no doubt put outside. She still didn’t seem to notice him as she disappeared behind a corner in the back to get something. (Probably more nests, since she ran out of the ones in the box she got out.)

Proletius looked down at his hands to see a decently sized tarantula in them that the druid gave him. The Grandmaster stared at it for a few moments before he leaned down and let the spider crawl outside the open door. When he stood back up, he saw the woman standing in the opening she went into, staring at him. “Alina, I presume?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes… Sorry for pushing a spider into your hands, I thought you were someone else,” she apologised. She held a box with more nests in her arms.

Proletius waved a hand dismissively, “It’s alright, I’m alright with spiders. I’m Ser Proletius, Grandmaster of the Knights of Crail. I wanted to ask you a few questions about the apparent nature spirit or monster that attacked some of Munroe’s men,” he said, getting to the point.

Alina looked pissed at the mention of Munroe’s name. She set the box that was in her arms on the countertop with a bit more force than what was necessary. “I told him and his men not to cut down that area, I even showed and marked an area for them to fell because those trees were all old. But no, he chose the young trees that a critically endangered bird species were nesting in, or rather, managed to adapt to nesting in,” she said with annoyance.

Proletius looked at the red ravens that helped each other get the nests out of the box. “Are those the critically endangered birds?” he asked for clarification.

“Yeah, Pheonix Ravens, thought to have been pushed to extinction fifty years ago but I found two dwindling and barely surviving flocks. I’ve been trying to help them adapt to living in a different area, but it’s not easy. Nature often tends to be stubborn,” she said exasperated. “I’ve spent the last three days trying to help them after Munroe felled the trees that they managed to call home.”

The Grandmaster looked at the red birds in surprise. Even he thought that the Phoenix Ravens went extinct. It made him consider telling the King about it. “Even I thought these birds went extinct, I’m glad they didn’t. I can help you talk to Munroe to work something out and I can even talk with the king to make them protected to help them,” Proletius said.

Alina’s tired face suddenly lit up. “You will?” at his nod, she couldn’t hold back a smile. “Thank you! If you let me tidy myself up a bit more, we can go talk to the man now?” she asked.

“Sooner is better. I can wait outside for you,” Proletius offered.

“Oh no, it’s alright, you can wait in here if you want. I should have some biscuits if the birds didn’t eat them all that is,” she said off-handed and reached for a jar on the counter next to the nest box. She opened the ceramic jar to check inside it. “Oh nope, they didn’t eat all of them,” she commented as she set the jar down on the table and put the lid back on before a Phoenix Raven tried to take a biscuit.

Ser Proletius shook his head at her offer for him to stay in her house. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll wait outside for you. I do want a biscuit though,” he said. The Grandmaster picked up the jar to get a biscuit, upon doing that, he felt a weight descend on his right shoulder and twisted his head to see a phoenix raven looking at him. “I get the feeling that if I open this, this one with dive for it.”

Alina looked a bit done with the antics of the phoenix ravens. “Yes, she will.”

Proletius had an idea. He put the jar down, reached into his pocket and brought out a bit of jerky (a treat he normally gave to Farcry), broke a decent sized bit off the strip and gave that to the raven. The piece was a bit too large for the raven to swallow whole which gave the Grandmaster enough time to take a biscuit out of the jar and eat it. He managed to do all that while the raven was trying to break the jerky upon his shoulder in order to eat its snack.

When the raven realised that the Grandmaster tricked it into eating a healthier snack and not the sugar biscuit it wanted, it looked at him very offended. Alina had laughed at the Grandmaster tricking one of the phoenix ravens. After the raven had gotten off Proletius, the Grandmaster went to wait outside while Alina made herself more presentable.

Proletius didn’t have to wait long for the druid to make herself more presentable since she had come outside wearing the same things as before, but her hair was neatly brushed and braided, laying against her neck. She also had a staff that was made of simple wood, the top of the staff was gnarled and twisted like a dead tree. "Are you ready?" the Grandmaster asked just to be sure.

She nodded. "Yes, I am, let's go find Munroe and talk to him. The nature spirit should stop killing his men if we manage to negotiate with him," she said. Alina did not mention what would happen if they didn’t.

Proletius nodded and both set off back to the village side by side to talk to Munroe. They walked in silence for the first half of the trip while they looked for Munroe after they got into the village.

"So what brings the Grandmaster to this little town?" Alina asked.

"The kingdom has been quiet. No problems from the neighbours, no chaos wizards, no goblin issues. So I told the knights to secure the kingdom by assisting the people with their problems, and I myself went out as well," Proletius answered.

"I see. Oh, there he is!" Alina pointed towards Munroe, the man's figure had set him apart from the norm.

Both the Grandmaster and the druid made their way to the overseer, who had turned to face them. When he saw that Alina was with Proletius his whole body seemed to huff in annoyance.

"I see that you went to talk with the druid…" Munroe said when they got closer.

"The monster that attacked your men was a nature spirit, defending the loss of habitat of critically endangered birds," Proletius started. "She tells me that she talked to you and even showed you a place to log. Why did you choose to cut down the trees in the unmarked area?"

Munroe huffed. "Those trees were old, young trees are better."

"For what? Older trees have a lot more wood in them to be used for everything!" Alina argued.

"Furniture requires the delicacy and lightness of the young wood!" he countered.

Alina's features hardened. "And why so picky? Wood is wood, older trees have already lived their lives. They are suited for home building or furniture!"

Proletius could see that this would only escalate and so interrupted the pair before they continued. "Enough! We came to you, Munroe to reach an agreement. You want wood, Alina has already shown that she is willing to help as long as you listen to her," he said with a slightly commanding tone.

Proletius's command caused both to shut up and listen to him. They both shared a glance with each other.

"Well, now that you say it like that, I suppose that I can agree with the druid and will go remove the trees she marked herself," Munroe relented. "And the birds?"

"They will be fine. I'm headed back to the capital and will tell the King about the surviving Phoenix Raven flocks. They will be protected," Proletius said to Munro's concern.

Munroe faced Alina and held out a hand to shake on it. "I suppose that we have come to a deal?" he asked. He had a kind smile while he took the deal. The drake-hound that was always at his side, wandered off.

Alina took his hand in her own and shook it. "Yes, we have a deal," she said, something felt off to her though.

Proletius nodded, outwardly glad that they had gotten along, but he felt like something would go wrong. "Glad that this will be solved and no more monster or nature spirit problems for you, Munroe," he said.

"Of course! I will deal with selling older wood, but I'll live. Now, Ser, you're probably going to head off soon, aren't you?" Munroe asked.

The Grandmaster nodded. "If there's not much more for me to do now, I was going to head back now."

"Of course! I won't keep you any longer, Ser," Munroe said, letting the knight know that he can head off.

"There is nothing more I need from you, either, thank you," Alina said.

"Well, farewell to you both and I hope all will be well," Proletius said, then called for his unicorn. The unicorn was quick to answer the whistle and stood next to the Grandmaster to allow him to get on. He climbed onto the unicorn's back, and both headed off to the exit of the village.

***

Proletius and the unicorn had been three hours away from the village when the Grandmaster’s gut feeling got worse, even his unicorn slowed eir’s walk and tilted e’s ears to listen to the forest. Ser Proletius scanned the bushes and drew out his blade just in case.

Both had heard a tree suddenly snap and fall. It crashed and shattered where the pair had been. They were no longer there because the unicorn had leapt forward when they heard the suspicious crack.

An arrow flew out from the bushes but was deflected by Proletius’s sword just as several people, armed with swords jumped out of the bushes and rushed the pair. Both the unicorn and the Grandmaster focused on the people that attacked them.

A green blur tackled Proletius of his unicorn and onto the ground. The knight lost grip on his sword when he fell but managed to use his armoured bracers to stop the drake-hound’s powerful jaws from going around his neck. It still hurt like hell when the jaws snapped down on the metal around his arm and he punched the animal’s nose to get it to let go. Hang on, he recognised this green and the drake, this was the same animal that was at Munroe’s side. The bastard had staged an ambush. He knew something had felt off.

He managed to throw the drake-hound off after he had stunned it and got up, retrieved his sword and went to help his unicorn battle the men that crowded around it. The Grandmaster struck the men down, even as a few more had come from the bushes.

A howl echoed from the forest in a radius and suddenly a pack of wolves, as well as a flock of ravens, exploded from the foilage to attack the men that assaulted the Grandmaster. That made the remaining men focus on the animals as well as flushing out the rest - including Munroe - from the bushes. There had been a lot of screaming from the men as they got attacked by the wolves and ravens.

Munroe fired his crossbow at a few of the ravens - which killed them - then took aim at Proletius and fired, but the bolt was deflected into one of his men. “No hard feelings Ser, but I can’t let you go report to the king on this,” he said with his familiar smile and good-natured attitude.

Proletius was not pleased. “I will still go to the king about this and will now include how you had attacked a Knight and the Grandmaster. Death will not be easy for you, Munroe,” the Grandmaster warned.

Munroe took aim again in answer and prepared to fire. Proletius closed the gap quickly, disarmed the crossbow from the man’s arms and prepared to engage the man as the overseer brought out a dagger. The drake-hound also bounded towards the pair and leapt at Proletius again, though the Grandmaster dodged it.

Roots broke from the dirt and entangled the men, crushing and piercing them - or in Munroe’s case, simply restrained him - which caused the battle to die down as a woman wearing leather armour, a staff, familiar braid, hair colour and eyes walked out from some roots herself. Alina faced Munroe. “I knew you were up to something, Munroe,” she said bitterly.

Proletius looked at the roots, the birds and wolves while he checked on his unicorn. He thought back to the scenery he had seen yesterday. So that was her. She was a powerful druid that’s for certain.

Munroe had a mixture of fear and frustration written on his face. “Surprised that you didn’t call me a rat, monster!” he insulted.

“That’d be an insult to rats,” she countered back.

“You’re a powerful druid, Alina,” Proletius complimented, ignoring Munroe.

She turned to him and smiled. “Thank you. Thank you for also not listening to Munroe,” she said.

Proletius nodded. “It’s no problem, something didn’t feel right about it and I did what I had to,” he said.

“So what about him?” Alina pointed her staff at Munroe who glared daggers at both the druid and the knight.

“Well, I don’t have the necessary equipment needed to arrest him, so I’ll need to get back to the capital for that,” he mentioned, then looked around at the roots. “Think you can hold him in someplace temporary until I get back?”

“Of course I can.”

Proletius turned towards his unicorn and got back onto eir’s back. He looked at Alina. “Thank you. Also, next time something like this happens again, get us,” he advised.

Alina grinned. “Certainly, but come quicker next time so I don’t have too,” she countered. The druid then remembered something, “wait, Ser, did Bush’s teeth break your armour and skin?” she asked, the green drake-hound sat obediently at her side. The drake then snorted.

Proletius checked the bracer that faced the brunt of the bite, while it was malformed a bit and punctured in places, he didn’t feel any skin broken. “It didn’t get past my armour enough to break the skin, why?” he asked.

“Forest drake-hounds have deadly venom, they use it for defence,” she answered, relieved.

The Grandmaster made an ‘ah’ sound, glad that he dodged that arrow. “Thank you for the information. What will you do with the drake-hound?”

“I’m going to keep him,” she said proudly. “And rename him, he needs a better name than ‘Bush’. Probably Surthian.” She gave the drake a few good scratches while Munroe vocalised his annoyance at that. He was left ignored.

The Grandmaster shrugged. “Fair enough. Farewell, Alina, I’ll be back later to pick up Munroe.”

Alina nodded. “Yes, see you then, Ser Proletius.”

Both then parted ways, more permanently this time, Alina took Munroe back to the town and Proletius went back to Dundee to report to Angus McFife I about what had happened at Enest.

#gloryhammer #ser proletius #angus mcfife i (mentioned)#keiran writes

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megadara999 · 5 years

Text

The Crimson Gala - Chapter 3: No Hard Feelings?

I’d very much appreciate it if you head on over to AO3 to read my stories, but you don’t have to. They’re just much more up to date and better formatted there. You can also leave comments which I love to read. Click here to be taken to the AO3 page.

This chapter jumps between past and present via little ~~~~~ ____________________

The scent of blood was in the air. As enticing as it was Charlie had her sights set on a bigger prize than just a meal. She planned to take care of the current king. Vampire culture was much more different to humans; they lived, ate, felt and governed differently. One vampire governed all, Dracula. But only a select few ever heard from him. He was a myth, a legend, the idol of their people. It took hard work to be noticed, even harder work to gain an audience with him. Maxwell stood in her way. He was a good little lap-dog, doing everything he was told. They had been friends once, but that was almost a thousand years ago. It started with friendly intention, growing into something more and then...

~~~~~

The night was frigid, snow whirling like a ravenous swarm of insects. Charlotte could feel it through her layers of clothing. The box in her arms was beginning to weigh her down. “May I help you ma’am?” She turned to see a taller man with rounded glasses holding his arms out toward her.

“O-oh. I’m almost where I need to be. Could you perhaps open the door for me?”

“Of course. Maybe you’ll invite me in for a meal too?”

“Depends how you act mister.” He laughed and folded his arms behind his back.

“Of course.” The pair soon arrived at the tavern, the man holding the door open for her. As she walked in the door warmth greeted her, making her sigh in relief.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Come inside, I’ll be sure to make get you a small something as a thank you.”

“You’re far too kind.” They stepped in and headed towards a front desk.

“Just tell them Charlie sent you for helping me. The chef will take care of things.”

“Thank you again.” She beamed and headed into the back area, away from the customers.

“Charlie! I was beginning to think you got lost in the storm!” A larger woman came her way, bringing Charlotte's smaller form into her arms. It brought a smile to Charlotte’s face and a chuckle from her throat.

“You and me both Winona, I honestly can’t believe how fierce the weather is already.”

“Not your typical November that’s for sure! Here, let me take those off your hands.” Winona took the crate from her younger sister, carrying it for her. Charlotte followed, glancing at the crowd for the night.

“It’s quite busy tonight.”

“I blame the cold. Brings in all the travellers. Good for business though!” Charlotte couldn’t help but smile in her sister’s presence, she was so much more independent and charming than her. Winona felt the exact same way about her sister however, grinning more than she had in the two days she was gone. The duo went to a workshop located at the back of the complex; the whinnying of horses coming from the stables outside. “I’m sorry to have sent you out there Charlie.”

“I told you before I left that I wanted to go! Stop apologising!”

“I know, I know! I just... I’ve not made you go on your own before. Then this damn snowstorm hits us? I should have gone.” Rolling her eyes, Charlotte headed towards the stairs that lead to her bedroom.

“I took care of myself! Besides, I got your supplies and you didn’t have to stop working. Now we’ll hopefully be able to put that little bit of extra cash towards the extension!” Winona chuckles and messily ruffles her sister’s hair before she can abscond up the staircase.

“You deserve it Charlie. Really.” She could only blush and squirm out of her sister’s grasp.

“Thanks Winona. I’m going to get changed into my attire for tonight’s little performance. I’ll come tell you about my trip after.”

“Alright. I expect to hear all the details.”

The sisters were part of the staff for an establishment called ‘Feathers and Iron’. It was a place owned by a lumberjack and his wife, but they had all become one big family. The tavern wasn’t only a place to spend the night or have a drink; it was also a place to fortify yourself. There were plenty of beasts one had to be weary of. From goblins to dire wolves, vandals to vampires. Winona was a skilled blacksmith and her craft had kept the tavern safe from attack for two years now; that and Wolfgang. He was a skilled fighter, the guardian of the town. Their little town was a safe-haven for weary travellers and families alike. The tavern was a popular spot for all kinds of people for miles.

The extension was going to be a workshop for Charlotte; a place she could practice her own craft. While Winona was fantastic with some metal and hot coals, Charlotte preferred plants and books. She hoped to become well-versed in witchcraft and perhaps even become the local apothecary. Feathers and Iron would become a key location on anyone’s map; a place to stock up on supplies and a good night’s rest.

Charlotte’s primary drive right now was entertainment. It was a way for her to practice her spells and lighten the hearts of all those who stayed the night. Every other day she would stand up on stage, looking over the visitors as they drank and ate. A few words and fire appeared out of thin air, earning a pleased gasp from all those watching.

Magic wasn’t common, at least not in humans. There were a few who were able to teach themselves and even less who were gifted with it. Charlotte was one of the lucky ones, a gift passed down through the generations, allowing her to learn without the rigorous academics usually associated with those who desired magical abilities. It warmed her heart to see people smile as she practised making rings of fire, shards of ice, crackles of electricity, turning a seed into a sprout within seconds. Occasionally another wizard or witch would approach her after and they would talk and learn from one another. She loved it when children were in the audience however, she would pour all her energy into making them smile. At the end of her performance she would thank everyone for coming to the Feathers and Iron. It was more than enough to make her happy.

Charlotte found herself lost in thought as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, turning to them. The man in rounded glasses from earlier stood behind her, a warm smile on his face.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am but I wanted to complement your performance tonight.” A flush of heat came to her cheeks.

“Thank you, sir. Can I offer you a seat?” She gestured to the chair on the other side of the table. The man gave his thanks and sat down, glancing over the books she had on the table.

“Are you self-taught?”

“Yes. I am.”

“That’s quite spectacular. Not many people can do that.”

“It’s a gift. I’m lucky is all.”

“And I’m lucky to have been in this establishment and see you perform.” The heat deepened, causing her to fidget with her hair. “Might I ask your name?”

“It’s Charlotte. It’s a pleasure to meet you-” She cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

“William.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you William.”

~~~~~

Where was he? The wind whistled past as she soared overhead, looking for Maxwell in the light of the full-moon. Her eyes fell upon him, he had someone against a wall, wings folded, claws deep in their flesh. He was exposed, preoccupied feeding. Excellent. Her plan was simple, drug him and let him die as the morning sun rose.

No foul-play, merely a tragic accident.

Her magic no longer worked; it faded along with her blood many centuries ago. Her knowledge however... A concoction composed of rare ingredients that had the ability to trap a vampire in one of its transformations. If she administered it now, her plan wouldn’t work. No. He needed to change into something smaller; more manageable. She needed him to take his bat form, something small enough wrap her fingers around. Charlie landed next to him, dusting herself of imperfections.

“Excuse me Maxy, I had my eye on that one.” He pulled away, chuckling.

“Well I’m afraid I got to them first, I may be willing to perhaps share.”

“Such a generous King~” She gave a laugh, sauntering closer to him, eyes half-laden. Arrogant idiot. ‘King’. Most of the ruling vampires didn’t pick something so absurdly egotistical. A count, lord or governor were common. But no. He had to be a king. “It’s been a while since I last talked to you one on one. We had a short one at the last gala meeting. What was that… fifty years ago? How lucky, that you and Countess Wickerbottom were chosen to host this year’s gala together.”

"I was hoping we would get a chance to speak in private actually."

"You and me both Maxy."

~~~~~

She had been waiting for William in the cold air for quite some time now. Where was he? He said to meet her here at eight, so her she was on the dot. Maybe she was too zealous…

“Charlie! I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting!” The taller man hurried over, a thick coat of what seemed to be wolf fur.

“I was just about to go blue! What took you so long?”

“I had to ensure I wasn’t followed.”

“Such a mysterious man~” She smirked at him, the gesture usually getting a smile in response. Not this time. “What’s wrong Wil?” He seemed solemn. That couldn’t be good. With a sigh he looked over his shoulder before turning his gaze to her own.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you Charlie. I need to tell you something, but you must promise not to tell another soul.” A feeling of dread began to fill the air between them.

“Of course, Wil. I won’t tell anyone.” Charlotte had her suspicions about what this was about. There were little things about him that made her think. The way she never saw him eat in front of her, swearing he had sharp teeth, only appearing in the later hours of the day. She didn’t want to believe it though; didn’t want to believe he could be one of them.

“For starters Charlotte... My name is Maxwell, not William.” He took her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “And I’m not human. Not anymore.” Charlotte let out a sigh, looking into his eyes.

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Please tell me you’re not a...” Her voice trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“Vampire? Yes. I’m sorry.” Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fall against his chest, he in turn wrapped his arms around her.

“Damn it William... You shouldn’t be here... Wolfgang will kill you if he finds out.”

“I know. That’s why I felt I needed to tell you. You’re my confidant Charlie.” His hand lifted her cheek. She opened her eyes, once again looking into his. “I trust you.”

“I trust you too... It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

“There’s a good girl.” He gave a smile, leaning closer. “I don’t want this to change things between us.”

“It won’t. Do you prefer Maxwell or William?”

“Maxwell. But keep using William for now, I don’t want you accidentally saying Maxwell.”

“Alright. William it is.”

“I have something to ask of you... It’s a big favour...”

“What?”

“I haven’t fed in days. I’ve been too worried about getting caught. Normally I would drift from town to town but I didn’t want to leave because you’re here. I don’t expect you to say yes...”The action in question didn't need to be mentioned, it was fairly clear what he wanted.

“You want to... feed... from me?” He was silent for a moment, but silence can speak volumes. She hesitated a moment before opening the top of her coat, pulling the collar of her dress away to expose her neck.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know honestly but I want to help. So... maybe hurry before I change my mind.” With a nod he moved closer, pushing on her clothing to expose lower. Charlotte flinched as he pierced the skin near her collarbone, but a gentle hand on her cheek kept her focus. It didn’t take long for him to pull away and place his hand over the wound.

“Thank you Charlie.”

“It’s nothing... really... You’re not a monster... You don’t deserve to be treated like one...” He gave another smile, keeping her close.

“I didn’t think I could be in love with a mortal.” Heat rushed to her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I... I’m flattered William.” He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers. Charlotte was taken back at first but soon wrapped her arms around him, returning the gesture. She didn’t see why they couldn’t be happy together. She was absolutely taken by his charm and manners, he seemed genuine. She’d see how things went...

Maxwell couldn’t believe how sweet she tasted. It was true, magic mortals did taste better. She was a delicacy, a rare delight. He was lucky to have her all to himself, he just had to regulate how often he fed and keep her interested in sweet little William. He couldn't allow him to grow more attached than he already had...

~~~~~

Maxwell gave Charlie a smile, moving to the side. “Perhaps we can chat over a meal?” The prey’s arm weakly twitched as Charlie approached, placing her hands on their shoulder.

“I’d love to.” The apprentice ran her tongue over the wounds Maxwell had left on its neck, maintaining eye contact with him.

“I see Wicker is teaching you well.”

“What can I say, I’ve always been gifted.” He chuckled, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Indeed you have Charlie.” The pair feed upon the increasingly limp prey. She decided to make her move, taking the concoction in her mouth as she turned her head away from him, mixing it with the prey’s blood. She then made quick work, manipulating her body language and meeting his eyes, allowing her hand to slip on top of his, faces moving closer. The prey fell, forgotten, unneeded. It was easy to get the first kiss started, exchanging the fluid in her mouth for his tongue as she clung to him. Seems he was just as lustful as ever.

Maxwell pulled away, suspicious of her activity. The last time they had been alone was under... unpleasant circumstances on her side. “What are you attempting to gain out of this Charlie?” She slipped her hand from his shoulder to his chest.

“Nothing Maxy. I’ve waited a thousand years to finally see you again. I missed you.”

“You’ve had centuries to approach me.”

“I had no idea whether you’ve been dead or alive. For all I know you were killed by hunters. I’ve only been an apprentice for a handful of centuries. Only now am I allowed to participate in gala arrangements!” He was still weary, but couldn’t deny his fondness for her. She was the most attractive human he’d come across in his time on Earth. A combination of body, personality, taste and gumption had drawn him in. He was distraught when he couldn’t stay with her; alas he didn’t have the authority to turn her and wished to continue rising in the ranks. He had to let her go.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I’ve had centuries to get over it, I’ve moved on. Well.. Not entirely... I can’t forget the magical time we spent together before you left.”

“Why not at the gala meeting? Why now?”

“I didn’t know how to feel at first Maxy. Now I do.” She pressed their bodies together, letting her wings rest on his waist. “Come with me. Let’s leave the hunt to the rest of your faction. I would much rather speak to you in private. We can catch up.”

“Can it not wait until after my dear?”

“Women are fickle Maxy~ I might change my mind~ Lets sneak away while whimsy is still in the air!~” She shrunk, down allowing her wings and fur to consume her form. Within moments she was a fraction of her size, beating her wings hard to keep elevated. Making her way towards the sky she checked to ensure he was following her. A feeling of pure ecstasy flooded her system as another bat approached her, Maxwell no longer standing below. This was it! Centuries of planning, locating, experimenting and waiting, all coming together on this absolutely gorgeous night.

~~~~~

He couldn’t bring himself to do it, to tell her he had to move on. He’d grown closer to her as they spent more time together. It was just a feeding thing at first, but Maxwell soon found himself feeling for the mortal woman. It would be easier for her just to fear him. So... he did what he had to.

A spring storm had come through, thunder rumbling loudly throughout the night. Maxwell made his way through the building from Charlie’s room. The strongman was his biggest threat, so it was only natural he would be the one to turn. His snores could be heard from the hall, rivalling the thunder outside. He would have to be quick or the man would alert the others before turning. Maxwell bit into the man’s neck, causing him to jolt awake. There was a shout, silenced by leathery wings in his mouth. Crimson splattered onto the bed, a fist connecting with the side of Maxwell’s head. The dazed vampire dodged another oncoming attack, lightning highlighting the terror in the mortal’s eyes. He lunged again, the larger man hitting the ground with a heavy thump. Maxwell did his best to drain some blood, making room for his own and weakening the man’s retaliation. Taking his own hand, Maxwell ran it along his fangs, a deep wound across the palm. He then pressed his would against the mortal’s mouth, forcing it down their throat. After a few moments the struggle was over and the transformation started. Maxwell allowed his wings to fold neatly behind him as the man convulsed, fur and leather covering his one human form. The ghoul rose from the ground, a beastly face in its wake. “You’re to scare Charlotte. Not harm her. Do you understand?” The beast snarled.

“Others”

“Expendable.”

Charlotte awake to the sound of screaming; she looked for William. He was gone. There’s no way he would... She threw off the sheets, forming a small flame in her hand to see. “William?!” Stepping out into the hall she hesitated, there was noise coming from the visitor’s wing. (Horrible, horrible noise.) Winona suddenly burst from her room across from hers, panic in her eyes.

“Stay here Charlie. I’ll find out what’s going on.” She ran down the hall, a blade in hand. No way she was letting Winona go by herself! Charlotte ran after her sister, only coming to a stop when they reached the rooms. A hulking beast stood in the hallway, its figure hardly standing straight, wings half-folded. It turned to face them, bat-faced, blood dripping from its maw. Half a torso lay on the ground...

Winona was frozen, trying to assess her odds. She needed help; this wasn’t something she could take on her own. How did one of the turned get into city limits? They had knights for this reason! It screeched at them, causing Charlotte to cover her ears, the small flame going out. Winona pushed her sister back without thinking, heading back the way they came. The ghoul thundered right behind them, heavy footsteps falling closer and closer. It screamed as something collided with its back. A moment to think. “Charlotte! There's a silver spear in the workshop. I want you to get it, lock the doors and stay put. Do you hear me?”

“I’m not going to leave you here! I can help!”

“Charlie!”

“Winona!” There was determination in her little sister’s eyes. She would rather die than see her sister hurt but she was right. She was gifted. Maybe they could at least scare it off. Winona turned to see the owner of the establishment brandishing an axe against the ghoul in the dining room. Now or never she supposed. With a nod they headed back towards the beast. Winona drove her short sword into its thigh, its hand swinging around and winding her. Turning, it bared its teeth. Charlotte pushed the air in front of her, small shards of ice flying forward and embedding into its torso. As it turned to her the owner, Woodie, hacked at it with his axe again. An ear-piercing screech sounded out, the creature outstretching its wings. Charlotte launched another volley of ice at it, this time the shards blown out of their trajectory by a beat of its wings. Winona dove for her sword, pulling it out of the creature’s leg and this time slashing the blade at it. The leathery wings came up, a large hole appearing in the webbing, beast unphased. Its hand swung around, grabbing Winona by the arm and throwing her into Woodie. Fire. They needed fire. Focusing Charlotte summoned a volley of flames this time, casting it at the beast.

“You cannot defeat the mighty Wolfgang!” Again, its wings came up and took the damage for him. Charlotte couldn’t believe her ears. Did it just say Wolfgang? Their Wolfgang?

Suddenly Winona was grabbing Charlotte and pulling her to the door, Woodie screaming at the creature. Once in the street Winona looked to the sky, then she continued pulling her sister towards the barracks.

“Winona! We can’t run! Woodie is in there!”

“Charlie! We’re not going to fight him! We’re going to let the knights do their job!”

“But Wolfgang-”

“But nothing Charlie! Wolfgang is gone! Do you know what’s happened here?! Your damn naivety did!”

“Hey!”

“No! I told you that guy was bad news! You can’t trust vampires!”

“You don’t know it was him!”

“I should have just said no. Told you, you can’t see him. This is my own damn fault.”

“We can find him and ask him if he did it!”

“Who else would have Charlie?! What other vampire have we invited into our lives?!”

“H-he wouldn’t have.”

“He’s a vampire! You’re lucky you’re not dead! You let him bite you!”

“He didn’t want to hurt anyone!”

“Look at what he’s done!”

“It wasn’t him!” A whistle sounded out, the sisters both turning their attention to its source. William stood on the roof of the tavern, pointing at them. Wolfgang burst through the door, wood splintering under the pressure. Dark red streamed from wounds all over his body, he glanced at his master and then to the sisters. The hulking beast ran at them, Winona grabbed her sister, pulling her away yet again. “WILLIAM!” Tears formed in her eyes. He couldn’t have. She trusted him.

Winona’s leg came out from underneath her, causing the sisters both to topple over. Charlotte could only watch as Wolfgang dragged her sister towards him by her leg, plunging their teeth into her waist. Winona screamed and so did Charlotte. It shook its head violently, as a wolf would do to tear flesh from bone. The younger sister stood, running at the beast and muttering an enchantment, a ball of fire hitting it in the face. Her dress tore as she skidded to a halt on her knees, muttering another spell. This time thick vines erupted from the earth to surround them. Wolfgang wailed, pounding on the roots. Blood soaked into Charlotte’s clothing as she scooped her sister up in her arms, deep teeth marks streaked across her side.

“I... I’m sorry for yelling at you Charlie.”

“No, no. You were right. I was stupid.”

“Nah... you’re... you’re the clever one out of us.” Winona hissed in pain, breathing becoming more and more laboured.

“Hang on Winona. I... I’ll fix you up... okay? Just hold on.” There was a scream from somewhere in the street, moments later the church bell could be heard. Maxwell took this as his cue to leave; that was more than enough to ensure Charlie would never seek him again. “The knights are coming Winona. You’re going to be okay.”

“Don’t put these vines down... until... until you know... its dead.” Wolfgang’s claws were beginning to tear through the roots as a crossbow bolt hit him in the shoulder. He let out a screech and beat his wings, unable to lift himself off the ground as the membranes were littered with tears. Another bolt tore through the air, impacting on the ghoul's chest. Charlotte clung to her sister, putting her hand over the wound, muttering a spell to cauterise the bite marks. She could hear the scuffle outside their little nest, the rattle of knight armour, the cries of their former friend. It didn’t take too long before the sounds stopped and someone told her it was okay to lower the vines. Her legs were too shaky to stand. Exhausted and in shock she cried out to the knights to get the town healer. Winona put her arm around her younger sister, telling her how much she loved her. Charlotte told her to tell her once she was better, to hang on just a little longer.

She didn’t survive to see the sunrise.

#megadara999 writes #AO3 #ds #vampire wilson #Vampire AU #Don't Starve #dont starve #Wilson #Willow #Maxwell #Charlie #Most of the cast is here #TheCG #Chapter 3

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 6 years

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‘Angor Reborn’ synopsis and reactions

I’m glad I managed to get this before 3Below premiered. I mean, I’ve said before how I don’t think the novels mesh well with the show canon, but I still like knowing what’s been written.

Long post, lots of spoilers, so I’m putting in a ‘Read More’. I’ve bolded some useful world-building stuff.

Prologue:

As a previous post attests, I am upset that the writer decided to have Angor’s deal with Morgana take place post-Killahead. Sure, Morgana’s definitely already against Merlin by then, and sure, it means we get some Trollhunters between Deya and Kanjigar, but it throws off a bunch of other concepts I had regarding the show’s timeline.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, this is the same author who has Bular aged at over 5200 years old.

I do like the thing about Angor having a menagerie of animals, which he loved, and having to trade away his animals and pieces of his boat - reduced to a raft by the time we see it - for supplies and information to track Morgana down. The dove he sacrificed to summon her was his last animal, and particularly dear to him, which was why he still had the bird in the first place. I also liked the bit about Angor being “legendary among his tribe for his calm, even temper.” Once he becomes an assassin, he looks back and describes his past self as “a humble gamekeeper”. It’s wild contrast to the troll we see in the show, showing how scarred he is internally.

Angor thought sacrificing his pet dove should have been enough for Morgana, since he had literally nothing else to offer ... except his stone flesh, which was not (as implied with the show) a premeditated decision.

We don’t actually see any of Angor’s fights with Trollhunters, just a summary that he traveled the globe, doing Morgana’s bidding, and the only times he didn’t hear her voice in the back of his mind was while portalling through the Shadow Realm.

The temple in India where Angor was imprisoned was named “the Temple of the Pale One” by the locals in reference to Merlin living there. He’s the one who chained Angor up and trapped him under rubble when Angor tried to trap Merlin in the Shadow Realm in hopes that would get Morgana to end his curse. (Merlin can sense Angor is cursed but doesn’t seem to care.)

This obviously means Merlin had to have lied about going to sleep right after trapping Morgana in the Heartstone, but I’m not going to call that a plot hole because I can believe Merlin would lie about that.

Chapter 1:

Jim has a nightmare about an old man trapping him in a glass bottle and then dumping him into a giant blender. Then he wakes up underwater.

He’s not in the potion, he’s at the bottom of Lake Arcadia Oaks, which he recognizes once he’s on the surface because he and Toby used to go camping there.

Jim takes off his armour to swim for the surface - which is nice, implying the armour being stuck in the show really was because he was panicking and not because it can’t come off. After he drops the amulet, it flies out of the lake and into the air, and he grabs it as it passes him; it drops him in shallower water.

It is established the Trollhunter team knows the Eternal Night is going to be a perpetual eclipse rather than some kind of damage to the sun itself or an adjustment of Earth’s rotation to have perma-night on one side and perma-day on the other.

Jim’s memory is messed up and he can’t remember that his mom isn’t missing anymore or what Merlin’s declaration that the potion will make Jim “both Troll and Hunter” means.

Jim finds and saves a wolf pup that had its legs tangled in some old fishing line. Its reaction to a human is more like I would expect of a dog than a wild wolf, but okay. Jim decides to name it Sir Barks-a-Lot.

The clouds part and the full moon is exposed. Jim doubles over in pain. He sees someone, or possibly two someones, approaching.

Chapter 2:

Everyone but Merlin is freaking out over Jim being gone. Barbara threatens the wizard. Strickler, consulting the Book of Ga-huel, agrees that Barbara does indeed have the knowledge and skill to break bones.

Claire tries to use the Shadow Staff to find Jim. It fails. (Then one would think it wouldn’t come as a surprise to her in the show when it fails again.)

“But how could you be so reckless?” Strickler asked. “How could you expose him to something this unpredictable?”

“That’s a bit like the cauldron calling the kettle black, isn’t it, Changeling?” Merlin said.

... Dude. If you are literally comparing something you did to something that someone you openly scorn has done, this does not make you look good.

Barbara drags Merlin out of the bathroom by his beard, insisting he do something to help them find Jim.

Strickler starts trying to contact Nomura, Claire goes into the Shadow Realm to see if cutting off outside input will help her lock onto Jim’s signal, and Toby jumps out the bathroom window and uses his Warhammer to fly for “aerial surveillance”, wishing Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were there.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH are fleeing Usurna’s forces. AAARRRGGHH catches a spear that was about to hit Blinky and throws it back at the troll who threw it. They escape, temporarily, by jumping over a ‘fire bog’ ... Do I spy a Princess Bride reference? They take shelter in a cave and find some possibly-enchanted pools of water. Blinky describes himself as “royally cheesed off” at the events of the past week.

Chapter 3:

Jim awakes to a bonfire. He has been found by a River Troll and a Garden Troll, who recognize him as a human. The Garden Troll wants to keep Jim as a pet. Jim interrupts what he thinks is a fight between the two and is told that they are, in fact, in love, and “it’s our courtship dance!”

Jim goes off on a mental tangent about how pretty and wonderful Claire is. He wishes he could be holding her hand, and notices that his hand is surprisingly hairy. (This is probably the hand that got covered by the gauntlet, since the hand that lost a finger didn’t seem to have hair on it at all, or his transformation isn’t over yet.)

The troll couples’ parents show up and try to forcibly separate them. When it becomes a fight, Jim summons the armour of Daylight. He collapses in pain. The wolf is whining and barking. Some of the River and Garden Trolls start attacking Jim as well. Jim roars at them.

Chapter 4:

Angor is awed and discomforted to be physically in Morgana’s presence for the first time. Morgana and Gunmar have a subtle power struggle.

Gunmar possesses three Stalklings with the Decimaar Blade, to track down and kill Jim and his allies. Gunmar sends Angor to let the Stalklings out on the surface, taunting him about how Angor used to keep animals.

Angor wonders if Morgana might reward him if he were to kill Gunmar.

At the entrance to Trollmarket (implied to be the one in the canals), once he’s let the Stalklings out, Angor thinks he catches the Trollhunter’s scent, and leaves with the intent to track and kill him.

Chapter 5:

Jim tries to talk down the Garden and River Trolls, but his words are garbled because his teeth have changed. They get over their surprise and attack him again. Jim wins the fight and demands the star-crossed lovers be released.

Ronagog and Junipra, the Romeo-and-Juliet references, are allowed by their families to be together, but at the cost of each being banished from their tribe.

Jim gets a look at his reflection in the water. He’s got tusks, though he calls them fangs, and shaggier hair. His skin isn’t totally blue yet, but it’s bluish in a way he isn’t quite sure is a trick of the light. No mention of horns, so he probably hasn’t grown them yet. His armour feels too tight, and resizes for his new height and bulk.

Jim has an existential crisis about what his transformation will mean for his relationships with his mom, his friends, and his girlfriend. His angsty rambling about making decisions before thinking them through, and not knowing where you belong anymore, and how maybe sometimes it’s better to separate from someone before you hurt them, convinces the troll couple to break up. Jim is left alone with the wolf cub.

A thunderstorm is rolling in. There is a flash of lightning and Angor Rot appears.

Chapter 6:

Gnome Chompsky and Not Enrique question Fragwa about the missing Trollhunter. Chompsky is the ‘bad cop’.

Fragwa is about to tell them something when the Creepslayerz show up and throw a dwärkstone into the goblin’s mouth. Claire, Toby, and Strickler show up, Claire and Toby in armour, to confirm Eli and Steve were indeed asked to help instead of stumbling onto the scene by accident.

Stalklings attack and grab Claire and Toby. Strickler transforms and flies after them.

Chapter 7:

Angor taunts Jim about Draal.

Angor compares what Merlin did to Jim with what Morgana did to Angor. Jim does not have a good counter-argument to the parallels, although he does deny them. During the fight, Jim’s horns begin to grow out. His hearing, sense of smell, and sight are all enhanced, as are his reflexes.

Jim taunts Angor about the assassin being defeated by Merlin, despite no hint in the show or previous novels or earlier chapters that Jim would know about that.

Angor says once he kills Jim, he’ll move on to Jim’s loved ones, specifically threatening Barbara. Jim responds with primal rage. In the subsequent attack, the pixie cage and a container of Grave Sand that Angor was carrying are shattered. The pixies can’t get through Jim’s helmet, and he covers Sir Barks' nose, mouth and ears. Apparently the wolf cub does not bite him for this.

The pixies leave, carrying off the Grave Sand. Angor also disappears. Jim chases Angor.

Chaper 8:

Detective Scott’s first name is Louis.

A man in the police station is ranting about seeing creatures/people with lots of arms and glowing skin who fell from the sky but could now be disguised as humans.

Barbara is filing a missing person report on Jim. Merlin is with her, wearing an old band T-shirt (Papa Skull Live In Concert ‘92), parachute pants, high top sneakers, a porkpie hat, and sunglasses; some of James Senior’s old clothes, rather than his armour. Detective Scott points out that, statistically, most kidnappees are abducted by someone they knew. Barbara denies that it could’ve been James Senior, since he never even came back to get his stuff after walking out.

Nomura is outside the police station, watching in amusement as Barbara drags Merlin around. Nomura is upset about being attacked on her first day back at her human ‘day job’ - she likes working at the museum - and is mourning for Draal. She’s keeping her distance from the Trollhunter team for now, despite getting Strickler’s texts that Jim is missing, because Nomura is bad at sharing feelings.

Strickler stabs the Stalkling not carrying a human. His knife, which looks more like stone than metal to me, acts as a lightning rod and the Stalkling is zapped and disintegrated, even though the two Stalklings carrying humans in metal armour have not been zapped and the Stalkling Jim killed with a lightning strike only turned to stone, not dust. The shockwave knocks Strickler back. The other two Stalklings are startled into dropping Claire and Toby.

Chapter 9:

Jim chases Angor to Arcadia Oaks Dam. He switches to the Eclipse Armour for better stealth. He is relieved to have a fight to focus on, rather than dwelling on how his loved ones will react to his transformation.

Jim sees a hunched figure through the fog, identifies it as Angor Rot, cannot identify if Angor is alive or dead, and throws his sword at the figure, which shatters on impact. Jim literally does a happy dance. It was a trap. Jim is grabbed by a golem.

The golem is made of wood. The wolf cub bites it, which buys Jim time to summon his glaives. After they beat the golem and destroy the totem (called a fetish, referring to the archaic definition ‘a charm imbued with magical powers’), Sir Barks pees on the pile of sticks.

Angor nearly drowns Jim inside a Water Golem. Sir Barks nearly gets hit by a thrown knife and runs away.

The Eclipse Armour fades out. Angor takes the amulet. Jim snaps the totem animating the golem with his bare hands. Angor steals the Triumbric Stones, and presumably his eye but that isn’t mentioned in the narrative, and tosses the amulet over the waterfall. Angor knees Jim in the crotch and is about to stab him when Jim throws himself over the waterfall instead.

Chapter 10:

Claire summons her Shadow Staff, which flies to them and carries Toby’s Warhammer as well, saving them both from falling to their deaths. Toby chooses to fly back while Claire portals to the alley they were snatched out of.

Steve and Eli are hiding in the dumpster, which Steve excuses by claiming they were searching for Jim in there. Strickler and Toby show up. Strickler warns that Gunmar may have been watching through the Stalklings’ eyes.

Barbara and Merlin show up because Toby texted Barbara where they were. Merlin calls Eli “the inadequate one” even as he agrees with something Eli said. They agree they should take a break and eat.

The pixies show up. Eli recognizes them from the time Angor Rot set them loose on the school. Everyone blocks their ears and noses with packing peanuts from a box by the dumpster. The pixies begin huffing Grave Sand. Literally. “Huffing” is the word the book uses to describe it.

The Grave Sand appears to be inducing a Zen state in the pixies.

“Sounds like the medication they give hyperactive kids,” added Steve. “Lotsa people think it calms ‘em down, but it’s actually a stimulant to improve concentration. Uh, I mean, so I’ve heard other people who are not me say ...”

Unfortunately the Grave Sand also amplifies the pixies’ abilities so they can show people their fears without literally getting into their heads.

Chapter 11:

Jim has been washed downriver to the Arcadia canal system. Sir Barks-a-Lot has followed him, tracking his scent. The wolf cub pulls him out of the water. Jim is unconscious. His skin is bluer than before.

Sir Barks-a-Lot sees the amulet in the water nearby and brings it to Jim, dropping it on his chest and howling. The amulet zaps Jim. Jim wakes up. It is implied he was dead - “The Trollhunter gasped alive, his eyes wide with amazement, his blood pumping again” - but that could just be exaggeration of how people seem to come to life when regaining consciousness.

Jim, carrying the wolf cub, climbs out of the canal. He dislikes the sound of traffic and wonders if he belongs “in the wild with other animals” now.

Jim looks into the water and imagines seeing the faces of the people he’d be leaving behind if he abandoned civilization - wow, you can tell this kid is sixteen, he seriously thinks this is a feasible thing to do on impulse - until Blinky and AAARRRGGHH’s reflections appear, and do not fade, and start talking to him.

The cave they are hiding in holds ‘the Plunder Pools’. Over generations, various trolls hid treasures in the deep wells to keep anyone from stealing them, and the buildup of magical artifacts in particular has imbued the water with magical properties. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH can see Jim, but the image is very blurry, explaining why they don’t know he’s a troll when they return.

Jim does not bring up his transformation, but their conversation gives Jim new resolve to go back and protect his friends - especially when the talk ends abruptly, with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH discovered and captured. But first Jim has to get the Triumbric Stones back from Angor.

He spots a brochure for the museum in the various debris in the canal and gets an idea, or possibly is reminded of his past success in the Second Battle of Killahead even if that was ultimately a temporary victory.

Chapter 12:

The pixies’ fear inducing power affects everyone present.

Claire is in the Shadow Realm, calling out for Jim. Her staff can’t open a portal. She’s stuck there forever.

Toby remembers visiting his parents graves with Nana and Jim when he was six, which then time-cuts to the present except Nana and Jim are both gone. He backs into Jim’s tombstone.

Strickler proposes to Barbara, who reveals she is a Changeling too and she was also lying about having feelings for him, except in her case it never stopped being a lie.

Not Enrique is stuck in a pet carrier. Original Enrique blows a raspberry at him. The Nuñez family is leaving Not Enrique at an orphanage. He begs them for a second chance, to prove he can be good and deserve their love. None of them speak to him. Javier wonders if ‘returning’ him to the orphanage is alright; Ophelia dismissively says she can rewrite the law, and anyway, who would ever adopt him? Claire says nothing. (This one kind of cheeses me off because I had a plan involving Not Enrique and a cat carrier for Becoming The Mask and now that scene is going to look like a book reference even though it wasn’t meant to be one.)

Gnome Chompsky is cradling Sally-Go-Back, the doll irreparably damaged, in the ruins of the smashed dollhouse.

Eli’s mother informs him there was a news report, saying all the paranormal things he’s been investigating were a hoax. Mrs Pepperjack says Eli was the only one to ever fall for it, but now that it’s over he can stop pretending to be important and go back to being a perpetual understudy in the drama club. Eli screams.

Steve is in Arcadia Oaks High School. He thinks he hears Eli scream from inside a locker but doesn’t investigate - he’s chasing after his father. Steve finally collapses in exhaustion, begging his father to come back, promising to score more points in the next game and make him proud.

Barbara seems to be unaffected by the pixies - I guess maybe her worst fear is Jim being missing, which is already true? We don’t see Merlin’s fear but he tells Barbara that dolls have haunted his nightmares for centuries.

“Not just any dolls!” Merlin exclaimed hoarsely. “Little porcelain girl dolls, with their chipped faces, strange eyes, and horrible little voices that repeat the word ‘papa’ -”

“PAPA!” Steve shrieked randomly behind Barbara.

“Always ‘papa’ ... until the end of time!” Merlin finished.

“This ... explains a lot,” Barbara said as she released the wizard and watched him collapse on the alley floor.

Chapter 13:

Jim climbs onto the museum. Narration comments that the alley where everyone but Barbara is suffering pixie-power is only a block away. Jim jokes that he needs to stop breaking into the museum. College AU writers, make a note: There is, apparently, an ‘Arcadia U’ - probably a community college but maybe a university like the name implies? Seriously, what size is this town?

Jim carefully extracts a bunch of mineral samples from their cases without setting off the alarms, and starts cleaving them with his talons. The minerals in question are vivianite, amethyst, fire opal, wulfenite, peacock coal, and obsidian. I don’t offhand know any trivia about these beyond obsidian being volcanic glass historically used for knives because it has such a sharp edge, and amethyst being the birthstone for February.

Jim asks Vendel’s spirit to guide his hand in the stone cleaving. He remembers what Vendel said about cleaving stones to unlock their powers and wonders if cutting away ties to the human world with unlock new powers in Jim.

There are six slots in the back of the amulet, so Jim fills them all here. The amulet’s incantation changes to, “For the pursuit of Angor, Moonlight is mine to command”. The lights out of the amulet are black and white and the armour is two-tone grey.

Jim and Sir Barks are nearly caught by museum security, but the Moonlight Armour adjusts Jim’s boots to have something like jogging stilts, which, combined with his new troll strength, allow him to jump out of the skylight they came in through while carrying the wolf.

Chapter 14:

Barbara reminds herself she knows how to treat fever dreams, telling herself to forget the supernatural element and just deal with the pixie hallucinations like she would that. They also remind her of virtual reality - apparently the hospital where she works uses VR to help anxiety patients? The more worldbuilding is done, the more Arcadia sounds like a big city rather than a small town.

Barbara took a college semester abroad and studied painting in Rome.

Barbara traps one of the pixies in the Grave Sand container until it eats all the Grave Sand, then moves it to the densest part of the pixie swarm. When it explodes, it sets off a chain reaction and kills off all the other pixies. She likens this to an antivirus.

Merlin expresses amazement that a “mere mortal woman”, his exact words, could defeat the pixies when he, “the world’s mightiest wizard”, again his exact words, couldn’t. Claire, Toby, Not Enrique, and Chompsky immediately call him out on talking down to her.

Dialogue between Barbara and Strickler confirms my theory that Barbara’s already dealing with her worst fear and that’s why the pixies didn’t affect her. (Although, really, they could’ve just shown her Jim’s dead body or something - I guess if you get cerebral about it, ‘not knowing’ is scarier than having closure?)

More Stalklings show up.

Chapter 15:

Angor paints his face with mud. “This was tradition. This was ritual. This was what hunters of old did before they claimed their final kill”. It is implied he does not expect to survive fighting Jim but could be interpreted to mean he intends to ‘retire’ after winning.

Jim uses Sir Barks for misdirection and successfully gets the jump on Angor.

In addition to ‘spring stilts’, Jim can summon a longbow and arrows, his shield can adapt to armour a companion (in this case, Sir Barks-a-Lot), and swap out the stilts for cleats which let him grip any terrain, even letting him climb a tree at a run.

Angor, outnumbered once his golems are destroyed, retreats. Jim and Sir Barks-a-Lot give chase.

Angor has captured Ronagog and Junipra (the Romeo and Juliet parallels from earlier) in a stasis trap. He sets himself up so that if Jim shoots him down with a bow and arrow, the shot will also go through the two harmless, helpless trolls.

Chapter 16:

Gunmar speaks through the Stalklings. Toby calls Claire ‘Claire-bear’ while suggesting she make a portal for them to escape through. She can’t - she’s emotionally exhausted after pixie exposure. Gunmar laughs.

Barbara tells Gunmar to “put a cork in it!” and throws a trash can lid at one of the Stalklings, making it choke and giving the humans, Changelings, and gnome an opening to run.

Merlin calls Eli “the bespectacled, socially-awkward one”. Steve calls Merlin “fuzz face” and tells him to lay off Eli.

Claire, Toby and Chompsky temporarily pin one of the Stalklings. Barbara offers praise and encouragement.

Strickler, Merlin, and Not Enrique fight the other Stalkling. Strickler offers Merlin the chance to deliver the killing blow. Merlin explodes the Stalkling, not caring that Not Enrique was in the line of fire and barely dodged.

The pinned Stalkling gets loose and attacks Steve and Eli. Barbara shields them. The Stalkling falls ... zapped by Detective Scott’s Taser.

Claire wishes they could take the fight to Gunmar. Eli reveals he captured some of the surviving pixies and was planning to keep them as evidence of Arcadia’s supernatural activity, but he’ll sacrifice them for the good of the world.

Merlin actually offers praise ... right before erasing Eli’s, Steve’s and Detective Scott’s memories of that evening’s events. Like the terrible, terrible, arrogant, selfish, terrible person he is. But at least it didn’t leave open the plothole of Detective Scott knowing about trolls in the books but not the show, so it’s only rage-inducing for the character’s actions, not for the writer’s slip-ups.

Chapter 17:

Angor wants Jim to kill the innocents in order to kill Angor so that Jim will (metaphorically) sacrifice his soul and Angor won’t be the only one. Jim, instead, breaks the stasis trap.

The subsequent “What kind of troll are you?!” “I’m not a troll. Or at least, not one like you.” exchange reminds me of the Disney confrontation between Tarzan and Clayton where Clayton tries to goad Tarzan into shooting him. (”Go ahead, shoot me. Be a man.” “Not a man like you!”) I’m also a sucker for the “I didn’t miss” trope.

Jim gives Angor this weird speech about almost feeling sorry for him and how Angor tried and failed to take Jim’s humanity away - no, kiddo, that was Merlin that did that - and how he thinks Angor always regretted giving up his soul. Okay, that part’s true, but there’s still no explanation for how Jim knew that. Everything the characters know about Angor in the show suggests Angor and Morgana are the only ones who know Angor didn’t give up his soul on purpose.

Now freed of the stasis trap, the two trolls group-hug Jim and Sir Barks, and renew their relationship.

Angor’s dialogue when trying to stab Jim - “Now there’s enough troll in you for me to turn to stone!” - implies Creeper’s Sun is a troll-only toxin, even though it’s also seen turning trees and a metal shackle to stone in the show.

Jim claims that, although bad things do happen that no one asks for or expects, everything bad that’s happened to Angor since trading his soul away was a direct result of Angor’s own actions. He pins Angor to a tree with an arrow through the wrist and refuses to kill him. Somehow this wins him Angor’s respect.

Angor acknowledges Jim as the better troll and hunter, and then escapes using a smoke bomb, but leaves behind the Triumbric Stones. (And possibly his eye? That never gets mentioned at all in this novel.)

Epilogue:

Draal and Kanigar watch Junipra and Ronagog’s wedding from the Void. The couple exchange nose rings, which were fashioned out of Moonlight’s arrows, implying an expectation that these won’t just vanish when Jim dispels the armour.

Draal asks about his parents’ wedding. Kanjigar says he and Draal’s mother, Ballustra, had a more traditional wedding: a trial-by-combat cage match followed by reciting their vows. He then goes on to reminisce about Draal’s infancy, embarrassing his son.

Claire portals the last Stalkling, blindfolded, into Trollmarket. It knocks over a bunch of Gumm-Gumms and coughs up the pixies.

A pixie goes in through Gunmar’s gouged-out eye socket. He sees Bular, as reanimated-but-still-crumbling stone, blaming Gunmar for Bular’s death and saying that if Bular, a warrior in his prime, could be beaten by a human Trollhunter, what chance does old half-blind Gunmar have against a whole Trollhunter team?

In the swamp, Usurna reveals she plans to take over herself eventually, and is only biding her time allying with Gunmar. AAARRRGGHH notes she treats trolls like pawns and she agrees. In the Void, Kanjigar notes that the other Krubera are starting to turn against her, and if Blinky and AAARRRGGHH can keep her talking, Usurna will be taken care of soon enough.

The Void’s viewing window shifts focus to the Arcadia canals. Nomura is confronting Angor Rot over killing Draal. She wonders, rhetorically, how many of those he’s killed he actually remembers, and which of the deaths he’s caused haunt him most. Coincidentally, a dove coos just after she says this, which freaks Angor out. Seeing his panic, Nomura decides to walk away and let him suffer rather than killing him. She presumably meets and fights some Gumm-Gumms between then and when she shows up at Jim’s house, because there is no mention of her shoulder being dislocated.

Draal is extremely touched Nomura wanted to avenge him. It is Kanjigar’s turn to feel embarrassed and flustered when Draal caresses the ‘window’ between the Void and the living world and tells Nomura, “Never change, my Changeling.”

Jim is back by the lake. It’s sunrise; it would seem he spends the day walking, under the cover of the trees, and gets home after dark the next night, somehow without ever getting any sunlight exposure? He takes off the Moonlight armour, which also dissipates Sir Barks-a-Lot’s armour (and maybe Ronagog’s and Junipra’s wedding rings but they aren’t in the scene so we don’t know).

Jim swaps out the ‘on loan’ museum crystals for “the gems from Angor Rot’s pouch, including the Triumbric Stones”, which implies he does have Angor’s eye again but that’s left unclear, and opening the possibility there’s one or two other stones in the pouch that might come into play in a later novel.

A mother wolf and three more cubs are nearby. Jim sends Sir Barks-a-Lot back to his family. I expect they will “see each other again someday”, because that animal acted way more like a well-trained dog than a young and wild wolf, but on the other hand that’s animals in fiction for you.

Jim plans to stick to the safety of the shadows while walking back to town, presumably to avoid being seen since he isn’t supposed to know he’s vulnerable to sunlight yet.

Kanjigar expresses confidence Jim will be able to save the world.

In Conclusion:

Angor Reborn still jars against animated canon in several places but is not as much of a mess as some of the other novels. There are a number of bits and pieces worth keeping.

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alt-rap-blog · 5 years

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Too Weird for the Masses: Tyler the Creator by: Stephanie DiBenedetto

Tyler the Creator, a local Californian who possesses a unique sound mixed with a strong character. Raised in Los Angeles, Tyler Okonma at the age of 7 started creating his own album covers with imaginary tracklists, way before he even started experimenting with music. After his mother purchased a keyboard for him when he turned 14, his artistic creativity took off. By the age of 16 years old Tyler the Creator compiled an alternative hip hop group made up of rappers, producers, DJs, comedians and writers named Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All (OFWGKTA). Yes, Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All. Tyler himself took off on a solo career after signing with XL with a one record deal, that soon he put himself on the map as an alternative rapper. Today I will be discussing not only Tyler the Creator’s musical career, but the subculture and impact he invented utilizing his non-traditional style and sound.

Now a little more about Odd Future. Odd Future is a group consisting of 11 created two full-length mixtapes and one studio album while simultaneously appearing on each other's independent tracks. This group included artists like Earl Sweatshirt, Syd the Kid and Frank Ocean, just to name a few. Their lyrics and sound can be described as rebellious, vulgar, sarcastic, surreal and honest. Utilizing Tumblr as a platform, OFWGKTA updated fans with new media constantly creating a cult following like no other. Unfortunately, Odd Future is a complicated relationship, despite their amicable relations with one another, they have individual music careers. They collectively created their own style and personas.

Pictured: OFWGKTA

Now back to Tyler the Creator. In the early years of Odd Future, Tyler started his independent musical career with the release of his album Bastard. At first, this album was only listened to by a few people and friends. This album did not really have an impact on the music industry. When Tyler signed with XL records, soon came his first album Goblin in 2011 for sure made an impact. Goblin as an album is authentic in every aspect. This outrageous album consists of lyrics about popping Xanax, hating his absent father and stabbing Bruno Mars. This album is framed to be a session with his therapist. Goblin’s intensity and vulgarity make a statement to listeners that it is not for the light-hearted. When thinking about what would the critics think about this, Tyler happily responds, “They don’t get it, cos it’s not made for them”.

Flower Boy dropped in 2017 was Tyler’s most recent studio album. In contrast to Goblin, Flower Boy is known as one of Tyler’s most transformative albums. This album as a whole created a divide on what Tyler the Creator used to sound like and what his new sound is. In this album, Tyler talks about the real weight that has stemmed from his life struggles. Unlike his previous albums, Tyler is more upfront with explaining his problems through lyrics on more serious notes rather than making blatant rants about them. Flower Boy also expresses Tyler’s fluid sexuality and his constant discomfort about being black. More intense topics than wanting to stab Bruno Mars. Tyler the Creator as an artist still continues to embrace his alternative themes and un-bothered attitude towards what critics and outsiders think about his craft. As a result of this alternative attitude, Tyler the Creator invented a fan base that acts more like a cult following.

Pictured: All four of Tyler the Creator’s studio albums: Goblin, Wolf, Cherry Bomb & Flower Boy

When thinking about the fanbase of Tyler the Creator a couple things come to mind: bold and bright clothing, vans, save the bees, Golf Wang. The frustration, anger and rebellious nature of Tyler the Creator appealed to a subculture of pre-teens and teens who for the most part never have heard something like him in their lives. This fan base is a dedicated group that lives and breathes for the vulgarity and admires f*ck what people think mentality of Tyler’s music. Not only did Tyler’s personality rub off on the strange fan base but also his own style. When looking at Tyler the Creator one can notice his mismatched, vibrant, “skater-esq” style. This pop-art/punk style inspired these fans striving to be dedicated to his craft to dress exactly like him. Of course, inspiring a fashion line specific to his style. This hardcore dedication for Tyler the Creator established a teenage fad in these fanatic’s lives. That select few with the flowery socks and a bright pink donut patched to their shirts walking down the hallway in your middle school? Yeah, those were fans of Tyler the Creator and Odd Future.

Weirdly enough, within the fan base, there is a divide in preferences pertaining to his music. There are some people who were there from the start. These are the followers of Odd Future’s Tumblr and supported Tyler’s new solo career with the releases of Goblin and Wolf. This group in the fan base wants the outrageousness, anger, and absurdity within this music. Unfortunately, this same group discredits Tyler the Creator’s recent albums like Cherry Bomb and Flower Boy for being too transformative. Then there are the fans who would live and die for Tyler the Creator and will support anything that is dropped. This divide is due to Tyler the Creator’s progressiveness as not only a rapper, but a fashion designer, festival creator, and a gender and sexuality advocate. People think that he is losing touch with the intense anger he once had ingrained into his music that they admired so much. Tyler responds to this type of backlash by saying, “[I don’t] know what it is, but after a while you realize you don't want to be around people who isn't positive, who isn't focused who don't want more. Why would you want to be around someone that is a downer?”.

Pictured: The pop-art/punk style

Tyler the Creator as an artist, icon, and an influencer is truly authentic because embraces his originality with his carefree attitude towards the world. The best thing about his carefree attitude he possesses is that when he does care about something, he is very passionate about it. Whether it be his music, his fashion, or his willingness to try a new art like creating films, Tyler the Creator is passionate about staying true to his original self within his subversion of the traditional rap/hip-hop industry. His career has shown us how he is comfortable with changing his music styles despite how it would affect his already developed fan base. He prioritizes his own values and beliefs over conforming to the subculture that he originally constructed.

“I’m a Big Mac I’m a quarter pound you chicken nugget”

references

https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/472649/odd-future-the-billboard-cover-story

http://www.indiehiphop.net/how-they-came-up-the-tyler-the-creator-story/

https://www.aceshowbiz.com/celebrity/tyler_the_creator/biography.html

https://www.redbull.com/us-en/top-20-best-tyler-the-creator-lyrics

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-album-reviews/goblin-103396/

https://www.complex.com/music/2017/07/tyler-the-creator-flower-boy-review

https://www.clashmusic.com/news/tyler-the-creator-responds-to-fan-criticism

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worldsandfeathers · 6 years

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amulatlas replied to your post:

ooc! rushed Troll Hunters finale and how it...

i agree with this sO MUCH . esp the point on them not utilizing strickler and jim’s mentor / mentee relationship again . oooooooohhhh boy you make me wanna do a post mysel f

//RIGHT??? Like, they already established that he used to be a father figure to Jim - why not renew it? Give him 2 troll dads that can give him perspective, encouragement, and their experience on the things he’s going through. Like, Blinky can address some topics while Strickler can address others, while both giving him the supportive connections he needs to be not only a healthy troll/half-troll, but also retaining the traits of himself that made him such a great and unique troll hunter.

//I think another point that should’ve been emphasized is that humans are like goblins: we’re team/pack hunters and if humans want more strength, then they need to strengthen/grow the pack/team. I really get the feeling someone should’ve used a wolf-pack analogy to explain that. Like, 1 wolf can’t take out anything but a mouse, but a PACK of wolves are strong enough to take down BISON.

//I mean, can you imagine the kind of decisions they’d make if they internalized that specific metaphor? I can tell ya, that whole “Lone Troll Hunter” thing Merlin & the previous Troll Hunters spout on about would DEFINITELY have a bit more to contend against with the wolf-pack thing present.

// But you know what’s fun? Taking all of these points + all the points you yourself would make, and turning them into canon-divergent threads, headcanons, drabbles, scenario wishlist, and stuff. So much fun in those right there, it’s unbelievable! ;D

#| :EntriesOfInterest: |#amulatlas #ooc #| :OutOfOwls: |#musings #trollhunters #mun chatter #mun speaks

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theonyxpath · 7 years

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Hi, folks, Rose here. ^_^ I’ve got two previews for you from the Storytelling chapter of Changeling: The Lost! Plus, come see us at Gen Con!

Changeling and Gen Con

Onyx Path will be at Gen Con in booth #145. If you stop by, I’d be happy to talk Changeling, as well as show you the pre-layout manuscript for the book.

We’ll also be running a “What’s Up With White Wolf RPGs?” panel at 11 AM Friday in Pennsylvania Station C, at the Crowne Plaza hotel. We’ll be talking about Changeling there, as well as Changeling-related projects like Dark Eras and a certain crossover book.

(Note: Due to the con, I’ll likely be less available on forums and our social media. Questions about today’s preview may need to wait for next week.)

Storytelling

Changeling‘s Storytelling chapter focuses on the chronicle as a collaboration between the Storyteller and all of the players. Today, I’d like to present two sections from that chapter, written by Jacqueline Bryk.

The first section is on chronicle building, featuring a system for tying together the human and supernatural elements of your game, and a series of questions to help you build an engaging group of characters.

The second is something we haven’t done much of in previous Chronicles of Darkness books: safety techniques. I don’t think it’ll surprise anybody when I say Changeling can get pretty dark. It’s a horror game that can evoke abuse and trauma, which are very real for all too many of us.

Some groups may want to avoid those elements, and some groups may want to dive as deep into them as possible. In my experience, most groups are somewhere in between: they want to explore the dark parts of the game, but don’t want to hurt the players behind the characters.

To that end, we present some discussion of the issues involved in running a Changeling game, as well as an overview of safety techniques that you can use at your table to make play an involving, but not harmful, experience.

In addition to these previews, the Storytelling chapter also covers how to build kiths, courts, Contracts, and Mantles.

Enjoy!

Building Your Chronicle

A chronicle is the tale told by the Storyteller and the players, spun out in threads of gossamer and tears. It’s the story of the player characters, their triumphs and failures, their escape from the Fae and their attempts to start a new life in a world that no longer recognizes them. While the Storyteller controls the world around the characters, it is their story. Players need to have input into designing the plots and problems their characters face throughout the chronicle. If the players all built social butterflies and the Storyteller’s chronicle is a combat-heavy slugfest, no one is going to have fun.

To build a chronicle, you first need to consider your props and themes. Once you’re finished with this part, you can move onto the Hedge Paths.

Themes

Themes are the human dramas that make your chronicle compelling. The overarching themes of Changeling: The Lost are beauty/agony, clarity/madness, and lost/found. In the tension between the opposites, one finds the game. Naturally, these aren’t going to be the only things you’ll explore — the Lost have to deal with very mundane issues in addition to being in the liminal space between humanity and Fae. Themes like “lost love,” “poverty,” and “hunger” could all work in a Changeling chronicle. Each might mean a very different thing to each character. “Loyalty,” for example, could mean protecting one’s freehold, sheltering one’s family even when they no longer claim them as kin, or hiding one’s undying fealty to one’s undying master in Arcadia.

Props

Props are the more fae parts of your chronicle, the magical weirdness that surrounds and permeates the lives of the Lost. Set pieces, scenes, and objects all fall under the heading of props. Anything from the Goblin <arkets to a specific token to a blue rose that only grows in the wall of a specific frozen Arcadian garden can be a prop.

Props can also be more mundane objects that show up throughout the chronicle. A player might choose to have her Bright One character associated with torches, for example, so any scene that revolves around her includes candles or flashlights or other small sources of bright light. Grand Princess Caesura, a lady of the Gentry who appears as a feminine form made of the absence of matter, is associated with open doors and missing keys.

Props don’t just have to be objects, either. Anything that will strongly influence the story can be a prop. A family curse, a bargain ill-made, a portal torn open, or a monarch corrupted by their own power can all be used as props. Really let your imagination run wild here — that’s what Changeling is all about, after all.

Using Props and Themes

When brainstorming your props and themes, note each one on a sticky note or a notecard. By the time you’re finished, you should have roughly one theme and one prop per player character. If there are more, that’s fine, those can be set aside as part of the secondary themes and props for the chronicle.

Lay the themes in a row on a table, then lay the props in a column perpendicular to the themes. For the intersection of each theme and prop, the players should choose a character. Ideally, this is a player character — an Ogre Gristlegrinder bouncer at the intersection of “hunger” and “the goblin market,” for example, or the Bright One above at the intersection of “torches” and “descent.” As a storyteller, this lets you know what sort of character-specific experience your players are looking for.

Free spaces are reserved for Storyteller characters. The intersection of “hunger” and “torches” might be a Huntsman coming after the player characters. Players and the Storyteller should work together to create compelling Storyteller characters that can come into the characters’ lives with some degree of commonality already established so that they better suit the overall aesthetic and feel of the chronicle.

Hedge Paths

A changeling doesn’t come into being in a vacuum. She has family, friends, a life she was pulled from, and a life she’s building. It’s important that both the Storyteller and the players know what’s going on with the troupe’s characters before the chronicle begins — otherwise they’re as lost as an escapee in the Hedge. Following the stages below will help you build well-rounded characters and connect them to the game.

The Life Before

All changelings were human before they were taken by their Keepers. Fae politics pale in comparison to the networks of family, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, petty rivalries, romances, and other connections mortal humans have on Earth. Rare is the Lost who was taken without any sort of link to other people — otherwise, why would the Fae need to make fetches?

Decide who the changeling was before they were spirited away by UFOs or invisible horses. Ideally, this should include their occupation, their home life, and any important people they may be in a relationship of any kind with. It can also include the age they were taken, any identifying marks (tattoos, moles, scars, etc.) and anything else especially relevant to their mortal life.

Example: Ben decides that his changeling character was an ESL teacher in her mortal life. He names her Jocelyn and gives her a husband but no children, a house that they rent together, a book club that meets on Sundays, and a best friend who recently moved two cities away. She has just graduated with her Master’s degree and she is a friendly, if private, person. Ben decides to put Jocelyn’s husband, David, at the intersection of a prop and a theme, “ancient books” and “unconditional love.”

Sarah decides that her character was a college student by the name of Nate. He grew up in a loving, middle-class nuclear family that hunted and cooked together and encouraged his dreams pretty regularly. Nate does not have a significant other and does not particularly want one right now. He lives in the university dorms, has a close group of friends, and enjoys target shooting and knitting equally. Sarah writes down “favorite rifle” as a prop and “growing up too fast” as a theme. She places his soon-to-be court monarch, Mens Machinae, at the intersection of these elements.

Meg decides that her character, Holly Blue, was raised in a hippie commune out in the Pacific Northwest. Her upbringing very much followed the old adage “it takes a village to raise a child” and she remembers her childhood as a time of love and warmth. Holly Blue was homeschooled until she went to college. She took a year off after her junior year to try and find out what she really wanted out of life, and went on a road trip across the U.S. with some friends. Meg writes a prop, “the old car that should have stopped working” and decides to place Holly Blue’s best friend, Nevaeh, at the intersection of that prop and the theme “unconditional love.”

Emily’s character is named Hel, and is the youngest member of a large family. She lived with her divorced mother and only really saw her father on holidays. Emotional honesty was not really prized in her household, so her upbringing was comfortable, if a bit chilly. Hel got her Master’s in Computer Science and worked as a programmer at NASA. She had several partners, but was going through a divorce of her own due to finding the same coldness in her husband as she did in her mother.

Questions to Ask: What is your name? How old are you?

Did you grow up in a nuclear family? Are your parents still together? Divorced? Never married? Single-parent household?

Were you wealthy? Middle class? Poor?

What’s your gender? Does it match your presentation? Are you okay with that? What’s your sexual orientation? Who knows? Did you have a partner — or several?

Did you graduate university? Do you have more than one degree?

What was your occupation? Where were you living? Were you owning, renting, couch surfing, or squatting? Did you have a pet? More than one?

Did you have any identifying marks, like tattoos or scarification? What were your hobbies and pastimes? Who would notice if you were gone or acting strangely?

Promises: What was the biggest promise you made before you were taken?

Sidebar: A Note on Backstory

It is expected that the Storyteller will use her players’ backstories to enrich the play experience. While they should feel free to do so, players should also communicate with the Storyteller on things they would like left untouched — and, by the same token, things they would like messed with. Storyteller torture of characters via backstory should always be consensual. This is a game, after all.

The Capture

Something had to get that changeling into the Hedge into the first place. Something had to take her to Arcadia. Something had to lock her into shackles of bronze and roses, forcing her to do its bidding. Use this section to figure out how the changeling was stolen or seduced away. You may also use it to get a preliminary outline of her Keeper.

Example: Jocelyn is levelheaded and skeptical of offers that seem too good to be true (she might not have gotten through her Master’s program otherwise), so Ben decides she didn’t make a Faustian bargain. It’s unlikely that she was seduced, so he decides that she was kidnapped and dragged through a mirror while in the bathroom at a Halloween party. He places her Keeper at the intersection of a prop and a theme, “unexpected portals” and “not who they seem.”

Sarah decides that Nate was on a hunt with his family when he got separated in pursuit of a buck. At least, he thought it was a buck. He saw a flawless rack of horns flash through the dusk in the trees and followed it. The woods got thicker and gloomier, but that’s ok, he’s used to having to wait in thickets to get at his game. Nate lost sight of the buck and turned around to go home — only to find the buck and the buck’s master waiting for him. Sarah decides to place the buck that lured him in at the intersection of the prop “the hunters hunted” and “not who they seem”.

Meg likes the idea of Holly Blue being abducted on her road trip. As she and Nevaeh drive along I-80, they see an old woman at her fruit and honey store — really, little more than a shack. They decide to stop to purchase some food. Holly Blue strikes up a conversation with the proprietor, who offers to show her some of her fresher offerings. Holly Blue follows her around the back, only to find herself in the thorns. The woman is a privateer, and she’s taking her newest acquisition to Grandmother, Grandmother (see p. XX) to adopt.

Emily comes into the chronicle a bit later than everyone else, and so her character’s abduction has to be a little different than everyone else’s. She decides that, befitting a programmer at NASA, Hel is abducted by the Three Androgynes (see pg. XX). It’s somewhat unceremonious — one moment she’s walking home from work, and the next, she’s suspended in midair in a sterile room, her limbs and mouth bound by thorns.

Questions to Ask: Were you physically dragged off? Were you deceived?

Did you offend a True Fae somehow?

Did you misstep into the Hedge?

Where were you when you were taken? What do you remember of the journey?

Promises: What promise was made to you while you were en route?

In Durance Vile

The durance is the period of a changeling’s life that shapes their biggest challenges. In a twist of cruel irony, some changelings barely remember it except in nightmares, while others are always on the verge of a flashback or panic attack, seeing their Keeper and her knives around every corner. Most are somewhere in between. Trauma is a funny thing, and for many Lost, it remains safely locked in the back of their minds, slipping out at moments of tension or vulnerability. The durance determines the kith and seeming of the changeling, and may affect what court they choose to join later.

Don’t hold back in this section (at least within limits set by the group, see “Safe Hearth, Safe Table” on p. XX). True Fae are not known for mercy or obeying the laws of physics. How might a True Fae have caused you to turn into a Mirrorskin or a Helldiver? What fell pacts were made with the realm you were imprisoned in that you could survive it? Were you the only one in your motley there?

Storytellers should feel free to do some light narration of this section before game, if their players are so inclined. See the sidebar “Narrating a Durance” for some guidelines on how to do so effectively.

Example: Jocelyn is taken to a realm of mind-numbing bureaucracy and byzantine laws. She is held in a small cell, a room that looks like an unfurnished apartment with the drywall torn out and the wires exposed, until her Keeper sends someone for her. She is taken before the True Fae, a being made entirely of paperwork and red tape. Its face is a white porcelain mask made to look like a baby’s head. Ben has already decided that Jocelyn will be a Fairest Notary, so he states that after being forced to swear fealty (in triplicate!), she is taken downstairs and has the pledge tattooed on her back by another changeling. Her Keeper, the Munificent Bureaucrat, and another True Fae watch. She is leashed and kept at her Keeper’s side to reference at will.

Sarah decides that her Ogre Artist character, Nate, was the one to tattoo Jocelyn’s back at their Keeper’s behest. Nate was taken a year before Jocelyn, and has been forced into his role as artisan of all trades. Not an artist before his durance, Nate was quick to pick up skills in order to avoid harsh punishments with chisels and pigment. He has been forced to reshape other changelings into different forms and configurations, and already he’s growing slowly deaf to their cries, for his own sanity.

Holly Blue, meanwhile, is chosen as Grandmother, Grandmother’s hardworking middle child who doesn’t get enough attention. This is not her normal state of being. She is used to love and affection from all of those around her, and is now constantly ignored and occasionally violently punished for the mischief of other changelings. She finds herself occasionally changing her voice or facial expression and sometimes outright lying to avoid Grandmother, Grandmother’s teeth and claws. Soon, she’s doing it all the time. She uses the voice and face that will keep her most safe, and in this way, Holly Blue becomes a Fairest Mirrorskin.

Hel doesn’t get much of a choice in her durance. She is kept in a zoo of changelings, occasionally taken out and vivisected and put back together again. Sometimes, she’s shown off, paraded in front of the Three Androgynes’ guests like a prized pet. She is not, however, petted and coddled like some of the others, and is subjected to an increasing parade of indignities. Her cell is immersed in the light of strange stars, and in her anger and humiliation, she begins to absorb the light as a source of comfort, becoming an Elemental Bright One.

Questions to Ask: Who is your Keeper? What is their title, or titles? How did they treat you?

What was the lightest part of your durance? The worst? The very worst? Were other members of your motley there, or was it just you?

What was the environment like? Were you mostly inside or outside? Was it hot, cold, or temperate?

What was the last straw?

Promises: What did you have to promise your Keeper to avoid punishment?

Sidebar: Narrating a Durance

If the players choose to play out their durance instead of merely having it as part of their backstory, the Storyteller should carefully consider how to carry it out. The durance is characterized by loss of autonomy, both bodily and spiritual. While the character loses their autonomy, the player should never lose hers. A durance is not an excuse for a Storyteller to torture her players outside of the boundaries of the game in the name of story. The player must always have a say in what happens in her durance. If possible, durances should be narrated in private (this can be done in text form, if that’s easier). Nothing makes a player feel more vulnerable and disrespected than playing out an intense scene, only for another player to interrupt with a joke or an off-color comment about what’s going on.

Decide between the Storyteller and the player what the character’s durance should focus on. A Bright One’s durance is probably not going to involve toiling in the mines, but she might light the way for Helldivers and Gristlegrinders instead. An Ogre is less likely than a Fairest or Darkling to be the lover of the Princess of the Red Crowns, but he might hold her lovers still while she whispers to them and lines up the hats to nail onto their heads.

The Storyteller should take careful note of what the player wants. The durance can be extremely disturbing and upsetting, and it’s important that the player is only disturbed or upset in the ways she wants to be. At any point, the Storyteller or player should be allowed to tap out or fade to black if the scene become too much for them. There’s no rush to tell the story of the durance. Suffering has no deadline.

The Escape

Some part of the enslaved changeling felt the call back to Earth. Perhaps it was the memory of their spouse’s laughter or the warmth in their chest when they held their child for the first time. It might even be a petty vendetta against a coworker left unsettled. Not all human memories are noble or loving, and that’s not the point. Memories of the mortal world are the changeling’s key out of Faerie, so if they have no memories of the world as it is now, they may not be able to make it back.

What was strong enough to bring the character back? This is the paramount question for this section. Even if none of the other questions are answered, the player should know the answer to this one. It’s a good indication of the changeling’s priorities later in the chronicle.

Example: Jocelyn’s memories of her husband and her studies see her through her durance. While reading some of the Munificent Bureaucrat’s paperwork, she finds a loophole inside of a subclause that would allow her to escape. Armed with this knowledge, she unlocks the collar around her neck and sets herself free.

Meanwhile, Nate the Artist is drawn back by thoughts of his friends and his hunts with his family. He creates a perfect likeness of himself, a statue that smiles, and flees. Nate and Jocelyn meet up in the massive air ducts of the domain, quite by accident, and agree to leave together. They both tear through the thorns of the Hedge, seeking a door to lead them home.

Holly Blue has been forced to sacrifice her emotional honesty and her happiness to survive. She is whatever Grandmother, Grandmother wants her to be, and she has not been cut in months. However, she has not forgotten Nevaeh, her best friend and latent crush. When her Keeper leaves to seal a pledge with another Kindly One, she flees through the forest she was told never to enter. The thorns open for her, and she finds herself back in the Hedge, seeking a way back to the fruit stand where she lost herself.

Finally, Hel has been subjected to one indignity too many. As the Three Androgynes bring her back to the operating theater for another procedure, she breaks free, blinding all three of them with the light of her rage. She flees down the infinite halls of their ship, and finds an escape shuttle docked in one of the many cargo bays. Her programming skills are barely a match for the byzantine controls of the shuttle, but she manages to hotwire it and flies out of the Androgynes’ massive ship. Just as she begins to despair of finding her way back to Earth, she crash-lands in the thorns, the nose of the shuttle poking out into the Air and Space Museum in D.C.

Questions to Ask: What was strong enough to bring you back?

Did you sneak out? Fight your way out? Make a bet with your Keeper? Did you not want to leave? Were you thrown out instead?

Did anyone else come with you? Did you have to leave anyone else behind?

What do you remember of your journey back? What were you searching for on your way through the thorns?

Promises: Who knew you got out? Who came with you, and who stayed behind and promised to cover your escape?

Home, But Briefly

The great tragedy of a changeling’s life is that she is forever displaced from what it used to be. Fetches take their place and families move on. Any encounter with former friends and loved ones will result in confusion — and that’s just the best-case scenario. Lost may show up thousands of miles away from their home, drawn by a memory of a favorite vacation or a proposal on a beach, or they may emerge gasping from the thorns 20 years after they were abducted — though only an hour passed in Faerie. For a newly freed slave of the Fae, this is a punch in the gut. Where will they belong? Will they ever belong?

Example: Jocelyn and Nate arrive on Earth, pulled by their shared memories of the university they attended. Jocelyn has been in Faerie for what seems like a decade — but only a week has passed on Earth. Nate has been in the clutches of the Munificent Bureaucrat for much longer, and doesn’t recognize the new buildings on campus.

They go to find Jocelyn’s husband, only to find out that he has never missed her — she’s taking a shower right now. Jocelyn desperately tries to appeal to her husband, who threatens to call the police. Nate’s family found him dead, accidentally shot by another hunter’s bullet. They’ve already mourned and buried him, and when he shows up, they accuse him of being an imposter and making fun of them. Neither family will take them in. Defeated, Jocelyn and Nate retreat to a nearby diner to grieve and figure out what’s next.

Holly Blue arrives on Earth, only to find that her friend left the stall and its nighttime in the dead of winter. Using the skills she’s learned in Faerie, she steals the visage of the privateer who stole her away, and with it, her car and wallet. Meg decides to put the privateer under “the old car that should have stopped working” and “this is mine now.” Holly Blue decides to drive out east, in the direction her friend went, hoping to discover a police report about her disappearance. However, she soon discovers that Nevaeh is not only back home, she is dating a creature with Holly Blue’s face, who had the courage to say to Nevaeh what Holly Blue herself did not. They’re getting handfasted this spring. Holly Blue finds herself alone in a university town out east, sobbing alone at a computer in a public library, unsure of what to do next.

Hel attempts to get back into the NASA headquarters at Two Independence Square, but she’s already working there. Or at least, someone wearing her face has just been fired from her job there. Hel’s clearance is deactivated and she finds herself stranded. Her partners all believe she’s gotten back with her husband and refuse to accept this new impostor, doing everything from slamming the door in her face to threatening restraining orders. She buys the ticket for the first bus she sees, determined not to panic.

Questions to Ask: Who do you seek first?

Are they still alive? Do they remember you?

Do you have a fetch? Where are they? How have they replaced you, or changed your life in a way you didn’t want?

How has your fetch lived your life in your absence? Do they know you’re there?

Promises: What promise did your fetch break to someone you love?

Freeholds and Courts

Unless the game starts with the capture and durance of the player characters, much of any given Changeling: The Lost chronicle will take place in and around the local freehold or freeholds. If any of the props and themes from earlier have gone unused, use them here. The courts of the local freehold are a key part of the story, and need to be fleshed out. The easiest way to do this is to set up the four Seasonal Courts, but see later in this chapter for guidance on building your own.

Unless a player character is beginning the game at the head of a court, creating the four seasonal kings, queens, or monarchs is a good first step. It’s easy enough to put an Ogre Bright One in charge of Summer, and definitely a good choice. However, what would it mean for a small, vulpine Darkling Hunterheart or a Wizened Artist to hold the same position? The monarchs say a lot about the local courts — and, by extension, the tone and symbolism of the chronicle itself. A Spring Court led by a Fairest Playmate is going to have a very different outlook and aesthetic than another freehold with an Elemental Snowskin Spring King.

Once the Monarchs are decided, the players can pick which courts they might have reasonably been convinced to join.

Example: Ben and Sarah decide to divide the courts between them. Ben takes Winter and Summer, and Sarah takes Autumn and Spring.

Ben decides that the Monarch of Winter is a gender-neutral Darkling Artist who goes by Mens Machinae and makes robots and animatronics — and clever constructs to fool the Fae. The Queen of Summer is a Wizened Chatelaine named Small Queen Jane. He decides that she got her position for her ability to command groups and plan tactical engagements, and not necessarily for her own personal puissance.

Sarah, meanwhile, decides that the head of Spring is an Ogre Helldiver who goes by ghost (the G is never capitalized). ghost prefers no titles or accolades; they merely serve and stay silent until needed. The King of Autumn is a jovial Elemental Hunterheart who has an extremely even temper until his people are threatened — and then he turns into a terrifying force of nature, using illusions and threats and dreams to keep the freehold safe.

After looking at their monarchs, Ben decides that Jocelyn became a member of the Winter Court. Sarah instead decides that Nate is courtless, but sympathizes with Autumn.

Meg joined the chronicle a little later, so she doesn’t assist in creating the courts. However, she decides that Holly Blue has joined the Spring Court, in search of a balm for her broken heart. She was personally recruited by a ghost after they found her sleeping in a tent at a local cemetery. That’s where she meets Jocelyn and Nate.

Emily also joined the chronicle late, so she has no hand in creating the courts. Hel decides to join the Summer Court after they put her in protective custody for blinding a local bartender after he hit on her. The Season of Wrath best suits her slow-burning anger after being constantly disregarded, humiliated, and torn apart at other’s whims.

Questions to Ask: Who is the head of your Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter Court? Why do they have that position?

Are there any other prominent figures in that court?

Why did you choose to join that court?

Where is the freehold located? What is it called?

Promises: What oath of fealty did you swear to your court, and how is it similar to the one you were forced to swear to your Keeper?

A Motley Crew

The motley is the core unit of changeling society, a chosen family that reaches beyond boundaries of seeming, kith, and court. Player characters are usually in a motley together and their connection should be one of the major focuses of the chronicle. Ideally, members of a motley are willing to face death for each other — but it could just as easily be a group of drinking buddies who fear being alone.

Example: Jocelyn and Nate have been through a lot together. From killing Jocelyn’s fetch with a car to showcasing Nate’s latest project at a meeting of two freeholds, they’ve supported each other through thick and thin. After they picked up Holly Blue and Hel, who are more recent escapees from the same realm, they form a motley of four. The freehold calls on them when they need delicate legal matters handled, or an important guest impressed. Unsaid, but also just as true: They are the first line of defense when they True Fae come a-knocking.

Questions to Ask: What drew you to each other?

Who is the leader, if anyone? Are any of you likely to betray the others?

Does your motley have a name? What is your common goal?

How do others in the freehold view your group? How do you view your group?

Promises: What pledge did you all make each other? How was it different from the one you were forced to swear to your Keeper? What was the pledge sworn on?

Sample Chronicle: The Blue Hen Motley

Jocelyn, Nate, Holly Blue, and Hel are all from very different backgrounds, but they all wound up in the same place. They decide to retrace Holly Blue’s road trip back to the Pacific Northwest in order to stop her fetch’s wedding to her unrequited love, Nevaeh. Along the way, they decide to stop to take out Hel’s fetch — except Hel decides to make a pledge with her fetch to not interfere in each other’s lives. Jocelyn oversees the pledge. This frees up Hel to continue on the journey. Nate and Jocelyn take out the privateer on I-80 while Holly Blue watches and smiles her inscrutable smile. Hel’s pledge gives the motley enough points of Glamour to speed up the trip, but their Keepers are all looking for their escaped slaves. The Blue Hen Motley now has to deal with Huntsmen while trying to make it in time for Holly Blue to confess her love…

Other Bonds

Many promises and connections could fit into any of the stages listed above, but aren’t tied to a specific one. Since they’re useful for fleshing out a player character, some examples of other, more general ties are listed below.

What is your single biggest regret?

When did you find true love and why was the form it took unexpected?

Who did you leave behind?

Who do you hate even more than your Keeper?

Why does one person in particular fascinate you?

Who do you dream about, then wake up shaking and sweating?

Safe Hearth, Safe Table

While it’s fun to play make believe with friends, Changeling: The Lost is, at its heart, a horror game. True, it is also funny and beautiful and wondrous — but that typically comes after being held against your will in a world of dreams and nightmares for months, years, or decades. Changelings may have their bodies altered and their minds played with. Personal autonomy is repeatedly violated by godlike entities to whom one cannot simply say “no.” The only way to make it stop is to escape and even then, that’s not a guarantee. The Gentry might find you eventually, or they might send someone to do it for them.

This can be extremely unsettling for players. While consensual fear is part of the game, the goal is not to traumatize the players outside of the play space. Rather, everyone should strive for a game that provides an engaging, terrifying, and beautiful story that gives everyone involved the sort of pleasant chills a really good horror movie leaves the audience with after the credits roll. Even if a character feels trapped and hopeless, the player should never feel the same way at the table. This is a game, after all.

What follows are some safety techniques to help both Storytellers and players maximize enjoyment without taking away any of the horror at the heart of Changeling: The Lost. Feel free to use none, some, or all of them.

Emotional Bleed

Many of the safety techniques talk about something being too uncomfortable or too intense “in a bad way.” This is for clarity of communication. Some players like being made uncomfortable or put into extremely emotionally intense situations. Such players may play horror games to cry or feel trapped as a sort of catharsis, a way to experience traumatic emotions in a low-consequence environment.

This is called emotional bleed, or just bleed for short. When a character experiences emotions the player is experiencing, that’s called bleed-in. Contrastingly, when a player experiences the emotions her character is feeling, that’s called bleed-out. Bleed itself is not bad, but it can sometimes be unpleasant for a player who wasn’t expecting it or didn’t want it. If a player is getting unreasonably frustrated or upset at a challenging circumstance, this could be a sign of bleed. Stop play and give everyone a breather before continuing if bleed begins to cause problems at your table. Bleed can absolutely enhance the play experience and add another dimension of emotional resonance, but only if everyone is on board. Check ins, occasional snack breaks, and use of the safety techniques in this chapter are extremely helpful if the table is experiencing high amounts of bleed.

Lines and Veils

A classic safety technique originally described by Ron Edwards, Lines and Veils allows players to pick and choose what they want to address in the chronicle. Before game, the Storyteller should prepare two sheets of paper. Label one “Lines” and the other “Veils.” Lines are things that will absolutely not be touched on in the chronicle, not even mentioned in passing. Veils are things that can happen, but will not be played out, and instead addressed with a “fade to black.” The Storyteller asks players what they’d like added to the lists, and notes that the lists can be edited at any time. Veils can be moved to Lines, Lines can be moved to Veils, new Veils or Lines can be added, or Veils or Lines can be taken away (with the consensus of the other players). Veils and Lines cannot be used to cut out antagonists (i.e. “I don’t want the True Fae to be a part of this chronicle at all, not even mentioned in passing”) but can be used to restrict antagonists’ actions that might be uncomfortable for some players (i.e. “I do not want the True Fae in this chronicle to use sexual violence”).

Common Lines: Sexual violence, explicit depiction of torture, force feeding, starvation, mutilation, racial slurs, gender-specific slurs, spiders, trypophobia-inducing imagery, needles, bestiality, explicit depiction of bodily functions

Common Veils: Explicit depiction of consensual sexual activity, torture, emotional abuse, physical abuse, body horror, human experimentation, dream or nightmare sequences, childhood memories, prophetic visions

Fade to Black

In a movie, when the hero is just about to get into bed with her love interest or be “forcibly interrogated,” sometimes the camera cuts away right before the action — occasionally with a moan or a scream included as appropriate. This technique is called “fade to black,” and can be used in your chronicle as appropriate. If you don’t want to narrate every caress of a love scene or the weirdness of a changeling’s personal nightmare or the agony of Faerie torments, simply fade to black and focus on another scene. A player can also request a fade to black if they are uncomfortable with what is happening at the table.

The Stoplight System

This is a relatively recent technique and was pioneered by the group Games to Gather. The Storyteller lays out three different colored circles on the table: red, yellow, and green. Each color indicates a response to different levels of intensity. Green means “yes, I am okay with and encourage the scene getting more intense.” Yellow means “the scene is fine at the intensity level it is now, and I would like it to stay here if possible.” Red means “the scene is too intense for me in a bad way and I need it to decrease or I need to tap out.” Players can tap the colored circles as appropriate to indicate to the Storyteller what they want or need at that moment.

The Storyteller can also use the stoplight system to ask the players if they’d like intensity increased or decreased as necessary without breaking the narrative flow. To do so, the Storyteller can repeatedly tap a color — green for “more intense,�� yellow for “keep it here,” and red for “do you need me to stop?” The players can then touch a color in response. Players can also respond by saying the color in question out loud.

The X Card

An up-and-coming technique, especially in storytelling-game circles, the X card was designed by John Stavropolous. The X card is fairly self-explanatory. A card or sheet of paper with an “X” drawn on it is placed in the middle of the table. At any point, a player or the Storyteller may touch the X card to call a halt to any action currently making them uncomfortable in a bad way. If they would like to explain themselves, they may, but it is absolutely not necessary and the Storyteller should continue play once everyone is settled back in.

The Door Is Always Open

This is another technique that needs very little explanation. If a player needs to stop play for any reason, they are free to do so after giving the Storyteller a heads up. The chapter (game session) is then on pause until that player either returns or leaves the premises. Storytellers should use this technique either in conjunction with other techniques, or during sessions where players may have to leave abruptly for personal reasons.

Debriefing

Debriefing is a post-game safety technique, and can be used along with any and all of the suggestions above. After the chapter is finished, the Storyteller asks the players to put away their character sheets and take some deep breaths. Soft music or snacks can also be used to assist in debriefing. Slipping into character is easy — slipping out can be a little less so. Debriefing is all about bringing the players back to the real world, back through the thorny maze of the chronicle they created with the Storyteller.

Use this time to talk about the game in a context other than first person. Players tend to refer to their characters as “I.” The Storyteller should encourage them to use the character’s names instead, and use first person only for things that they felt as players, not as characters. What did they think was the highlight of this session? What was their favorite interaction they had with another player’s character? An NPC? Is there anything the players think the Storyteller could be doing better? Are the safety techniques and chronicle-building techniques working out for everyone at the table? Should anything be changed to make the game more fun and engaging for everyone involved? These are all questions that can be asked during debriefing, though they’re not necessary. If there are other, more important topics that need to be covered, feel free to use debriefing time to cover those as well.

Debriefing does not need to last for a set amount of time. However, after a particularly intense session, it’s probably a good idea to have a longer debriefing period than normal. Changelings are forever changed by their experience with the True Fae. The players should not incur the same amount of trauma just from sitting at a gaming table. Tabletop gaming is a low-consequence environment to explore many different emotions and coping strategies in new and strange environments. To keep this space low consequence, it’s important to make sure that all players (including the Storyteller) are emotionally supported and cared for after particularly upsetting or bleed-heavy chapters.

#Onyx Path Publishing #White Wolf Entertainment #Changeling: The Lost #Changeling The Lost #Chronicles of Darkness

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autographedcat · 5 years

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A Fistful of Mithril: The Journey Begins

I was delighted recently to be invited by my friend Aron Wolf to participate in a D&D one-shot he was putting together. I’m a long-time RPG fan, but I haven’t really had a group of my own recently. Our old regular weekly D&D group in Atlanta scattered across the country, and while we managed to get things going again for a while over Skype, life intervened and we never got it back up again. So I was really excited to not only play, but play around a table in a room with a bunch of other people I already knew i liked and enjoyed spending time with!

Because this was intended as a shakedown cruise for the world Aron is building, he gave us all pre-rolled 3rd level characters with specific backstories, which let us drop into the “meeting the party” phase without a lot of time for chargen. This was useful, because our group was pretty evenly divided between D&D veterans and folks who had never played before, and even among the vets, some of us hadn’t really played 5th edition yet, so our knowledge of the system was rather out of date.

(Author’s note: I am not the DM of this campaign, so all of my reports will necessarily be titled towards my own perspective as a player. I will do my best to report on the happenings fairly and accurately, but I won’t always have all the information to hand about what is important, and that may influence my account.) Our setting is a land that is somewhat modelled on the Italian renaissance, and is set about 10 years after a very nasty war with a neighbouring nation-state devastated the region, and from which it is still recovering. Our characters all had various connections back to that war.

My own character’s story had a lot of interesting and tragic threads. She was born into nobility, but her family’s house was betrayed by collaborators and fell during the war, when she was a child. Her parents were executed by the invaders, and she was held hostage for a time in the occupier’s court. When the war ended, she found herself without land or title, and has been making a life on the streets in a variety of shady pursuits, with a speciality in skycraft and the acquisition and brokering of information to those willing to pay for it. As a result, she’s had a hard life for one so young, but can still, thanks to her upbringing and early education, still move as easily through high society as she does the criminal underworld. She’s still bitter about being cast out, and has ambitious to one day reclaim her birthright. 1 In addition to Kyrial, my rogue, we had the following PCs to round out the party: A cleric, Jane (Julie), A dwarven bard, Belle (Shawna) A fighter, Gordon (Marcos) A musketeer2, Lex (Jasmine/Leah)3 Another Rogue, Splendid (Paul) (Shawna helpfully live-tweeted some of the better dialogue, which I will be including throughout this report. Thanks, Shawna!) We had all been brought together to guard a caravan that was taking supplies up from the regional capitol to a mining town on the edge of the mountains, about two days travel away. Our benefactor, Elmo Bartolo, was one of the scions of the frontier town, which was still rebuilding after the war. We had a fit of giggles over learning the name of our employer, which lead the the DM referring to him exclusively by his last name for the rest of the session.

Elmo does not travel! Elmo is the money!#dnd5e #fistfulofmithril