#a tiefling sorcerer with no sense of right or wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik (2024)

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chérie amour

[ rolan x fem!tav smut ]

summary: Rolan comes home from a long day at Sorcerous Sundries stressed and irritated and channels all of his frustrations into orally pleasuring his lover.warnings: oral sex, slight body worship, service top rolan, stress reliefwords: 4105

find part two here

click here to read on ao3 or read below:

Another day had come and gone. The sun had risen and set, casting irregular shapes of orange and gold across the worn floorboards of the high-ceilinged study as it inched across the sky. It had been another day that Rolan had risen from bed and left for his work at Sorcerous Sundries along with it without so much as a feather-light kiss on Tav’s temple to wish her a good day. Another day of wondering if he’d be back in time for dinner, and another day of the pot on the stove going cold.

The bright golden hue from the candle in its ornate silver holder casts a ghostly glow onto the canvas that Tav has busied herself with. She paints broad strokes of mauve colored paint to bring the withered edges of a floral arrangement to life – beautiful flowers left to wilt in a beautiful vase after they’d been plucked from a well-tended garden. Under the flickering light, the colors shift and change, never quite right, and she takes a step back to unfocus her eyes.

It’s too blue.

A touch of red would do nicely.

Yes, that’s exactly what it needs.

She dips into the pigments with the tip of her brush and mixes them together, attempting to find that perfect hue to make that darkened edge. Still, something looks wrong. The lighting is throwing her off. Her work feels incomplete apart from the background having yet to be filled with color, like something is missing apart from that stubborn decay.

Perhaps it’s the fact that her paint is beginning to muddy – or maybe her tired eyes are finally beginning to play tricks on her.

She frowns at the mess on her palette and prepares to create a new color from scratch when the distinct sound of a key finding its lock fills her ears and sounds like the most beautiful composition of music she’s ever heard.

Eyes still fixated upon the pigments, she can’t help the way her mouth twitches up into a smile.

Finally – her lover has made it home.

She listens carefully for a long moment as he fumbles with the key and fails. The front door has always been a bit tricky at the worst of times. He tries again. The lock refuses to grant him entry into his own home and she swears she senses the frustration in his actions when he gives up on the pesky thing and casts knock instead. The sound of the lock clicks loudly throughout their home and the faint tingle of magic flows in from down the hall, brushing up against the bare skin on her arms like a pleasant springtime breeze.

Rolan doesn’t take his time like he usually does once he makes his way inside. He skips basking in the simple pleasures of being home after a long day and doesn’t take the time to sit on the stool by the hearth to unlace his boots. Usually he’ll search her out when he’s all finished and dressed down into his casual attire, two glasses held carefully together in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other to share as the two of them talk about their day and wind down by the fire.

Tonight is very different.

He doesn’t stop by the kitchen and definitely doesn’t take the time to remove his boots as he approaches the door to their study with heavy feet and long, even strides. Tav stills. Curious. The brush in her hand lifts slightly from the palette as he comes closer and closer and she turns her ear towards the door to focus on the sound.

It’s clear when he enters through the threshold that the poor tiefling has had quite a day. His usually bright, amber eyes are tired and dulled and his mouth is turned down slightly into a frown.

It’s a look she hasn’t seen in quite some time. Not since he was an apprentice under Lorroakan.

She doesn’t like it. Not one bit. The smile that had begun to grow as a result of him being back home with her is quick to slope downwards on her lips. Something isn’t right.

The creases above his brow are worn, accentuated by the candle’s light coming from atop his sprawling desk, crowded with piles of flammable tomes and towers of rare books.

“Quite a long face,” she points out when they catch each other's eyes, and she carefully lays her brush down on a clean section of her palette to give him her full attention.

He walks further into the room, his jaw clenched tight, and passes her at her shoulder without as much of a word to swipe the candle from his desk and relocate it to a surface far less combustible. The light disappears from the face of her canvas.

“I thought I told you to not light a flame on my desk.”

His tone is sharp and bleeding with sudden irritation that he doesn’t mean to transfer to her. She knows he doesn’t mean it, but it stings all the same.

“I’ve been watching it carefully,” she tries to assure him. “I just needed the right light and the evening sun was beginning to wane.”

He doesn’t respond, just begins to undo the ties of his robe in thick, uncomfortable silence.

Tav continues, her voice smaller and caught slightly around a lump emerging in her throat. Perhaps he was upset with her. Her fingers catch on the hem of her painting smock and run along the rough stitching there. “I apologize. I won’t set it there again.”

He catches it–the way she has retreated–and he lifts his head to look at her, fingers stilling for a moment. His brows tilt upwards and together and he shakes his head, a wash of unpleasantness dousing him as he realizes his mistake. Guilt fills him. His tone tends to go sour at the worst of times.

“I didn’t mean it like that - it’s fine. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

He waves his hand in an attempt to dismiss her apology as unnecessary but something within Tav still feels insecure.

She pretends to organize the brushes alongside her easel.

Rolan sucks in a long breath. His tail flicks back and forth behind him.

He’d spent his entire day counting down the hours until it was time to leave, counting down the minutes until he could hold her and kiss her and make up for the time spent apart, and he’d managed to ruin a nice moment for both of them in a matter of seconds because of his inability to hold back the bite of his tongue. He huffs, disappointed only in himself, his jaw clenching together tightly as he does.

He shucks off his robe and tosses it over the back of a nicely upholstered chair, now dressed down to his trousers and undershirt, and rounds around the front of Tav’s well-loved easel to peer at her canvas. It shines with the layers and layers of wet pigment, but the picture itself is difficult to see apart from a rough outline of irregular shapes. Rolan is a wizard, not an artist. His right hand finds her lower back and Tav is quick to melt into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as he tries to make sense of her work and rubs at her spine through her shirt.

Even his hands are tense, she notices.

“What’re you working on?” He asks, and she’s more than happy to explain to him her vision for the project, however ambitious it may seem.

He hums in acknowledgement and tilts his chin down to press his lips lightly to the crown of her head. They linger for a moment.

“Are you at a place where you could stop?”

She doesn’t have the heart to explain to him that she can’t continue without the light from the candle that he’d moved, so she instead settles for a nod and reaches around her back to pull at the strings of her painting smock. Rolan is quick to take over the task, nudging her hands away when she begins to untie them herself.

It’s the simple gestures and acts of service that remind her why she loves him so much.

He helps her remove the paint-covered article and hangs it up on its hook. Then he sighs, attempting to curl the ends of his permanent frown into an assuring smile when she turns to peer up at him.

“It’s been a long day,” he admits and Tav hums, placing her hand on his forearm and trailing it downwards to tangle their fingers. “There was a mishap with cataloging a shipment of new scrolls. They had to be organized with the older ones and I had asked Cal to bring me a list and it just seemed wrong. He messed up. A whole room – just passed over. And business has been great, but trying to make sense of what's new and what remains in the midst of it all has really been quite the burden…”

Rolan’s work at Sorcerous Sundries has made the two of them nothing but proud, but it does have quite the effect on the tiefling at the end of the day. Most days he comes home beaming with pride and bursting with excitement to tell Tav about something new he discovered in the archives or to tell her about a difficult spell he perfected, but other days have him drained and stressed. Days like these are dreaded.

“How long did you have to work on them for?”

“It’s been three days.”

His words take her by surprise, as does the way his shoulders slump inwards when he’s done admitting them. She squeezes his hand and gently, he squeezes back.

“Rolan–”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t really fine, no matter how many times he could say it or stop her from asking any more questions about it. Three days and she’d just now heard about it. It explained why he’d been coming home so late the past two nights. Made sense why he’d had to eat his dinner alone after it had long since gone cold with Tav asleep upstairs in their bedroom.

Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d given her a kiss. A real one, not a chaste one as he slips out the door, nor the one he’d pressed to the top of her head just earlier. She craves him–their intimacy. Gods, now that she thinks about it she isn’t sure she even remembers the last time they were intimate. Just the thought makes her heart ache and her core yearn.

Tav opens her mouth to begin to speak but he stops her with his own voice and the feeling of his other hand delicately fixing the crumpled collar of her shirt.

“I– I just need a distraction. I would like to pleasure you – if you’ll allow me to. It’s the only thing that's been on my mind and I cannot possibly think another second about Sundries lest I abandon it entirely.”

Tav notices immediately how his eyes have since flooded with something new. That dullness that had been there before is gone, replaced by what she recognizes as desire.

Rolan continues, hands shaking when he smoothes out the fabric of her shirt over her collarbones.

“It’s likely why it’s taken me so long to catalog those damned scrolls. I’ve been thinking about you. The way you feel, the way you taste… The way you love me… My stress has stolen me away and there is nothing in Faerûn that I would like more than to bring you to bliss, my love.”

He sinks down to his knees before her and Tav waffles, pulling at the collar of his undershirt to pull him back up to his feet.

She should be the one on her knees, not him.

“Let me–” she begins, and Rolan slides his hands up the outsides of her thighs to rest over the perfect swell of her hips.

“–Please,” he pleads, and she doesn’t fight him any more on it.

The wizard struggles to keep his composure, feigning patience, as he unties the silk laces at the front of her pants and hooks his fingers into her waistband, pulling the article down her legs alongside her underwear and assisting her in stepping out of them. One foot at a time. Then with gentle hands he guides her backwards until the back of her knees find the edge of the chair strewn haphazardly with his robes.

She sits, reclining back into the plush, deep backing of it, cradled by his scent, and a pretty noise falls from her lips when he crawls forward in between her legs and spreads them apart, opening her up to him and planting a kiss to the inside of her knee. He takes a moment to cherish her body. His hands find the tops of her thighs and press, knead, and grope in a way that only makes her blush with crimson, then all at once he hooks his elbows under her knees and pulls her hips closer to the edge of the chair. The unexpected shift makes her squeak.

He wastes no time burying his face between her thighs. He finds her cl*t with an open mouth, burying his nose into her mound as he gets that perfect first taste of her, moaning long and drawn out at the taste that is uniquely her.

He’d needed this. He’d been waiting for this. Finally, he has her right where he needs her.

He laps at her core slowly at first, holding back his avidity, taking the time to relish the blooming taste of her on his tongue as she finds her arousal, and the sound he makes when his frustration begins to bleed out from him through his tongue is divine in Tav’s ears. It makes her stomach flutter and her core tighten around nothing. Rolan wraps his lips around her bud and sucks.

It’s as if something inside of him snaps. The little bit of restraint he had held himself back with disappears within a millisecond and the tiefling shuffles forward on his knees as if the moment could slip away. The rapid flicking of his tongue through her folds is quite a surprise, but the way he immediately drops his chin to lick and prod at her hole has her gasping and fumbling for a grasp on his left horn.

He wraps his arms further beneath her legs and she gets the hint, folding her thighs up over both of his shoulders as his hands find purchase on either side of her waist. His claws press in, leaving little indentations on her skin when he flexes his fingers or reaches out for handfuls of soft skin. She whines beautifully. Her voice is caught in her throat, trapped behind a lip pulled between her teeth, and she tosses her head back when he flicks his eyes up to watch how her face contorts in pleasure. Her jaw falls lax, open at last, and she moans loudly when he offers her the hot, broad flat of her tongue to grind against.

“Oh– Rolan–!”

“That’s it,” he says, a small chuckle laced between his words. An encouragement of sorts. “Give it to me. All of you. I want it.”

Tav does her best to tilt her hips against his tongue, searching for that glorious pleasure that only his tongue can provide. The hand wrapped around his horn pulls slightly with a gentle pressure and he leans in impossibly closer. The slight change in angle is divine. His tongue slides against her core, his nose bumping perfectly over her cl*t with every pass, and Rolan slips his eyes shut to allow her to ride it out. That pretty gold disappears and he gets lost wholly in her body.

The hands on her waist squeeze tighter. If he isn’t careful his claws could leave little bruises by morning. If they do, she’ll wear them with pride.

The floorboards under Rolan’s knees groan when he shifts his weight again to settle back on his heels. When he pulls away and slides his hands downwards to rest on her knees Tav’s chest heaves, her features drawn up in sensual satisfaction. Rolan’s chin shines with slick and saliva. The sight only makes Tav want him more. He opens his eyes to gaze upon her and his breathing matches hers. Their chests rise and fall together in a synchronized pattern. Shining gold flickers down to her core, then back up to her eyes, and finally down to where the collar of her shirt has slipped enough to expose the subtle swell of the top of one of her breasts.

Any other night the sight would have him hastily removing the pesky fabric entirely to gain access to them, but tonight is different. Tonight, his mind is set solely on dissipating the tension in his muscles and relieving himself of the displeasures of his work through his lover’s pleasure.

Cataloging scrolls and organizing books can be tedious, boring work – especially when cursed with having to fix your brother’s careless mistakes. There’s uncertainty, and unpredictability, and unforeseen failure in the commerce of magic, but this – this, he can do. And he knows exactly how to flawlessly execute his lover’s euphoria.

There is no failure in this. He will be sure of it.

“Are you done?” Tav asks after a moment of stillness, when the wizard has failed to return to her core. In typical wizard fashion, he has found himself lost in thought.

He catches her eyes again, a smirk curling upwards onto his lips as he shakes his head and leans back in, his hands carefully guiding her legs to either side of his head as his breath ghosts over her folds.

“Not even close.”

His tongue darts out to taste the lingering wetness on his lips. Then he dives in to drink it from between hers.

She shivers a full-body shiver when he finds her cl*t again, sucking and flicking the swollen bud with quick flicks of his tongue to make up for lost time, soothing it with broad licks and nice vibrations from his own groans of pleasure. He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else but on his knees, between Tav’s legs as they flex and threaten to squeeze his ears with every ministration of his talented mouth.

When he breaks away again to pet at her with his fingers, she reaches forward tenderly to run her nails across his scalp. The feeling pulls a drawn out moan from his throat. She follows the flow of the russet-colored strands back to where he secures his hair up and pulls at the tie there, already half undone and messy, and watches as his hair falls forward around his face and tickles the sensitive insides of her thighs. Rolan doesn’t make an effort to push it away. He stays still, rooted in place, his hooded eyes transfixed on how her sex flutters and stretches around his worshiping fingers. His breath is warm against her most delicate flesh. She combs her nails across his scalp again and he thanks her generously with his mouth.

He teases her some more, running the pads of his index and middle fingers through her folds and occasionally dipping shallowly into her hole, before finally pushing them deep inside and making Tav gasp out. Her back arches, lifting from the upholstery and her toes curl behind his shoulder blades when he curls his fingers just right, searching for that spot inside that makes her nerves light up – and light up they do.

He’s careful of his claws through the whole thing and continues to push in and out until the reddish flesh on his palm glistens with her wetness. The sight makes him throb and he huffs when his erection twitches and strains against the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Rolan, come up here, darling. I need to kiss you.”

Her voice is breathless. Pretty. He’s drawn to it like a harpy’s luring song.

He crawls up her body with the help of her hands as they twist into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer by his biceps. When he settles down over her body he groans between sharp teeth when his belly presses up against her c*nt. It’s warm through his shirt and he removes his fingers from her hole to ruck it up enough and allow her to slide slickly against his skin with slow, deliberate movements of her hips. As for himself, he grinds against the edge of the chair where his dick is trapped, moaning with each roll that puts pressure against it. It’s not enough to get him off, or even get him close, but that doesn’t matter to him. This isn’t about him. It’s all for her.

They kiss languidly despite how both of them blindly search out pleasure with their hips. They revel in the distinct tastes of each other and catch up on how much they’ve missed out on while the last few days have dragged on impossibly slow. If Tav could freeze time and stay in this moment forever, she would. Rolan, too. Their lips slot perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle – disconnecting and ever-changing in shape – yet each time their lips meet again it’s a perfect fit.

When she slips her tongue into his mouth he curses into her hers, a pleased noise. She runs the tip of it over the edges of his teeth, searching, mapping out the ridges and the points while stealing back the heady taste of herself from his saliva, all the while he breathes lazy and open-mouthed against her lips. They share a breath or two as hands and mouths wander, and it’s far too soon that Rolan can’t help but slink back down towards the floor.

He throbs in his trousers and he feels the stress in his bones on the verge of spilling over, overcome with his desire to please and pleasure. He chases the feeling as he leaves kisses down her torso and across her tummy, trailing down her hips until he finds himself at eye-level with her glistening mound again and reacquaints himself with her eager bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take very long for both of them to spill over – not when the wizard accesses his knowledge of what makes her truly keen. He licks at her with practiced ease and drags his fingers in and out of her velvety walls until her belly tightens and her thighs press together on either side of his head, muffling the sound of her voice in his ears until he mourns it.

He moans when she tightens, encouraging her further to let go, and finally she stumbles over into her org*sm when his other hand plants itself over her belly and pushes into the tender skin just below her bellybutton.

She sings so beautifully as she c*ms. Rolan feels her voice and her body whisk away his frustration until he’s groaning in blissful harmony with her, muscles going deliciously taut before leaving him a shuddering, panting mess between her thighs.

She looks beautiful with her cheeks flushed and her shirt hanging lazily from her shoulders. He gives her sex a few final light flutters of his tired tongue until her breath hitches sharply and her muscles spasm with increasing overstimulation, and then he’s drawing back only slightly and resting his head to the plush inside of her thigh.

He feels the strain of the last few days bleed out of his body as his heart pounds in his chest, coming down gradually to allow him a more-than-deserved rest. The relief in his groin is an added bonus he hadn’t expected, but a pleasant one nonetheless. He could do without the sticky mess in his trousers, but a simple incantation can fix that when he’s ready.

He feels nothing but contentment and love and holds Tav close while she cards a soothing hand through his mussed hair. They stay there together in the study until the late hour threatens to take its hold on them, and she rubs at the sensitive spots at the base of his horns until his eyes feel heavy and the serene moment begins to pull him under.

The floor is not the ideal place for the tiefling to succumb to sleep, but for the moment, until Tav decides to take his hand and pull him down the hall to their bed, it is perfect.

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1, 2, 4, and 6 for the Durge asks?

answering an ask game

1. How does your character figure out their class/subclass? Is it different than how they were before losing their memories?

Sorcerer perks XD lightning magic is to them like muscle memory. all assassin rogue levels they may have had (not 100% sure yet if they did) are pretty much forgotten though... and eventually they do gain bard levels due to alfira impact (more on that in a different ask answer)

2. Does your Dark Urge use a name? Is it one they remember or do they have to adopt a new one?

They remember both the Dark Urge and Ferael as their name. Given that the first one seems to cause raised eyebrows, they end up almost exclusively going by Ferael, unless they want to weird someone out. (like Fist Ulthred at Last Light)

Inner though process: Shadowheart is perfectly normal and acceptable, but the Dark Urge is not?? Fine, I guess. I'm Ferael then.

(ironically giving a normal name afterwards makes the whole Dark Urge thing seem worse XD Like they came up with something edgy on the spot despite having a normal name lol)

4. How is Gale doing right now? What drove your Dark Urge to put him in that state?

(…) Ferael stares at the swirling magic, as an arm emerges through the unstable portal. This branch of flesh is begging to be pruned and its sap supped from… A fantasy squirms its way into Ferael’s mangled mind. To slice through the stranger's wrist, part the skin, break through tendons and cartilage, until the hand and arm are separate. The ever-present headache intensifies, their vision blurs.

“A hand? Anyone?” the stranger’s voice returns the half-drow back to reality, before they fully drift away. They look around, blinking away the remains of the fantasy, as the dagger Ferael didn’t even realise was in their hand, drops to the ground with a clang. A hand. Right. Confused, they look at their own outstretched arm in front of them and… High five the stranger. (..)After this wonderful display of common sense, Ferael manages to free Gale from the portal.

Gale is doing fine now - if still a little bit freaked up by the whole head-on-a-spike image thing Ferael conjured up during the little spell casting date. (at least the wizard got over the crush he had on the sorcerer)

6. The one urge you cannot avoid in the game is killing Alfira. Does that event have a particular impact on your character or do they take it in stride?

OOF. Huge impact. They consider it their biggest failure. For most of the game.

Alfira's death is when the Urge gets real. Nor just an excessive bloodlust in combat. Not just vile fantasies that pass. Not a choice to be made. All the reassurances they got earlier echo hollow. It's a "Yes. There IS something wrong with you." moment.

Moreso, in my headcanon, Alfira actually spent a day or two WITH the party before getting killed - she wasn't just an innocent Ferael killed - she was an ally and a would be friend.

She was killed because she was the one who helped Ferael remember the "I know how to and I enjoy playing lute" detail from their forgotten past. Blood and murder is the only thing they are allowed to remember.

Once Ferael learns more of their past, the guilt ends up being more bearable, ironically. Given the sheer amount of victims - they are just kinda numb to this most of the time.

Even, so Alfira is the first step in Ferael's path to eventually reject Bhaal. (Also, the tieflings never learn what happened to Alfira. But Weeping Dawn is not forgotten as a song.)

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Into Sorcerous Sundries we go, and eyyyyyy look who's at the front desk!

Rolan, you magnificent, grumpy bastard. Glad to see you made it here too. Hopefully that means Cal and Lia are also all right.

Fun banter as we enter:

She yawns very dramatically as she says it, too. XD

The whole place is a bit sensory-overload for Hector's taste. There's magical displays going on in all directions, lots of loud bangs and flashes and whooshes. He can sense Gale's excitement, though - and he too is very interested in seeing what's available, as Gale has described this as not just a shop, but a place of lore comparable to the library Hector himself grew up with at the monastery.

Let's go chat with Rolan.

"You!" Rolan sputters, recognizing Hector as he approaches. Astonishingly, he almost seems to smile - although it's mixed with a wince as it pulls the visible bruises and one long cut on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Hector stares at him. Selune's grace, what happened to you? You said you were coming here to apprentice; how do you come to be keeping a shop counter and looking as if someone took a hammer to you?

He and Rolan have never really gotten on particularly well - though more from Rolan's prickly nature than any disinclination on Hector's part - but he's grown quite attached to the tiefling group as a whole and instinctively feels his hackles raise protectively on the other man's behalf. [ROGUE] "I know a beating when I see one," he says, immediately skipping past the pleasantries. "Who knocked you about?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," Rolan says. His eyes flick away from Hector's, down to some papers on the countertop.

Narrator: [INSIGHT] His voice catches. Something's wrong here.

"But never mind that," Rolan goes on hastily. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm just here to shop," Hector says slowly, his expression troubled. It's true enough - but he will definitely be keeping an ear to the ground now, to figure out why Rolan is hurt.

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Wow look at all that cool art!! Is that first one by filibuster frog? I'd love to know about them and all those eyeballs 👀

Ahh yes! Reed!

So this was actually a gift from a former friend. They were subscribed to Filibusterfrog's patreon so they got like, 1 free headshot doodle a month or something? And once they commissioned my character! Reed is an Aberrant Mind sorcerer who was INTENDED to be the chosen vessel of the Great Mother (the beholder deity). He was sired and birthed by some very dedicated cult members, and he had all the right portents! (eyes) On the eve of his first birthday he was supposed to inherit the alien and incomprehensible knowledge of the Great Mother and become her mortal hand on the material plane, encouraging the spread of her children and ensuring their dominion over other races!

Except the Great Mother is unfathomably insane and random and she just. Didn't. Got bored, maybe? Forgot? Had other things more important to do? Whatever the reason, the cultists were left with a baby Very Clearly Touched by the Far Realm and not really anything to show for it. So they...dumped the baby in an orphanage and the cult dissolved.

One of the very first things that Reed learned, before reading, before writing, before walking, was how to close all of his eyes except for the human ones. When the eyes were closed they appeared as little silver lines, almost indistinguishable from scars. The orphanage, already overrun with tieflings, took his otherworldly nature as sort of par for the course and tried to raise him the way they were raising all of their other half-fiend charges: to do good, to be kind, and to stand up for what's right. Reed grew up surrounded by people who, like him, had been sort of tossed aside by society for the circ*mstances of their birth, and so he has a very strong sense of kinship with 'misunderstood' people and creatures. This DOES mean that Reed is more likely than most to try and, say, tame a baby mimic! Or make friends with a goblin! Fortunately, his sorcerer powers are geared a lot towards telepathy and emotion manipulation, so he's mostly able to take care of himself if things go wrong! Mostly...

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Thorne Moonwhisper, Tiefling (Firbolg-Tiefling Hybrid) Sorcerer Wild Magic (Noble), level 5, made by ChatGPT

Thorne MoonwhisperTiefling (Firbolg-Tiefling Hybrid) Sorcerer Wild Magic Bloodline, Noble (History, Persuasion)Array: 8, 14, 12, 15, 10, 14, Int +1, Cha +2Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 16HP (1d6+1) 7AC 12 (dex)Init +2, Speed 30Senses: Investigation 13, Perception 15Saves: Constitution +3, Charisma +5Noble Skills: History +5, Persuasion +5Sorcerer Skills: Deception +5, Insight +2Languages: Common, Elven, InfernalTiefling Traits: Darkvision, Hellish Resistance, Infernal Legacy, LanguagesSorcerer Traits: Spellcasting, Sorcerous Origin (Wild Magic)Wild Magic: Wild Magic Surge, Tides of Chaos Spellcasting: 2/longCantrips: Firebolt, Message, Minor Illusion, Ray of Frost1st: Charm Person, Sleep Firebolt: +5 (1d10 fire) Ray of Frost: +5 (1d8 cold), reduce speed 10 feetEquipment: Noble's Outfit, Spell Component Pouch, 2 daggers

Level 2Sorcerer 2HP (2d6+2) 6+4+2=12 Font of Magic: Sorcery Points (2), Flexible CastingSpellcasting: 3/long1st: Magic Missile

Level 3Sorcerer 3HP (3d6+3) 6+8+3=17 Infernal Legacy: Hellish Rebuke 1/long Metamagic: Distant Spell, Quicken Spell Sorcery Points 3 Spellcasting: 4/2/long2nd: Scorching RayMagic Items: pearl of power

Level 4Sorcerer 4HP (4d6+4) 6+12+4=22Ability Score Improvement: Charisma +2 (18)Saves: Constitution +3, Charisma +6Noble Skills: History +5, Persuasion +6Sorcerer Skills: Deception +6, Insight +2 Sorcery Points 4Spellcasting: 4/3/long2nd: Hold Person

Level 5Sorcerer 5HP (5d6+5) 6+16+5=27 Saves: Constitution +4, Charisma +7 Infernal Legacy: Darkness 1/longNoble Skills: History +6, Persuasion +7Sorcerer Skills: Deception +7, Insight +3 Sorcery Points 5Spellcasting: 4/3/2/long3rd: Vampiric TouchMagic Items: cloak of protection

BackstoryThorne is the product of a Firbolg and Tiefling union, a rare hybrid that has gifted Thorne with powerful magic and a unique perspective on the world. Thorne grew up in a wealthy noble family, but their wild magic made them a constant source of scandal and embarrassment for their family. Eventually, Thorne left home to hone their skills and find a place where their magic was accepted and appreciated. Thorne has a mischievous streak and a chaotic energy that often lands them in trouble, but they always mean well and will use their magic to protect the innocent and right wrongs.

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Character Build AnalysisI would never create a character, let alone a d6 HD caster with a Constitution Score of 12. This allows Thorne to get some points back which allows them a 16 Intelligence to start. Sorcerers are rarely high Intelligence but Thorne is an interesting (and noble) Tiefling.Besides boosting Int and lowering Con, this is a fairly standard Wild Magic Sorcerer. Thier battle spells are complimented with enchantment spells like Sleep and Hold Person. And the use of Metamagic Distant Spell works well with Vampiric Touch. A very interesting build and should be fun to play.

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Dungeons and Daddies Season 2 Predictions

So season 2 is about the Dad’s grandkids, and I’m super excited. Here’s a list of predictions about the plot. I might be wrong; I might be right. Who knows.

1. There will be a lot of ripping off of YA novels, assuming the grandkids will likely be teenagers or young adults.

2. At least some of the Dads and Omega Dads will be NPCs. Glenn, especially, will probably show up despite time passing as he’s a demon now.

3. Glenn’s grandkid will probably be a tiefling (either through Nick’s bloodline or another kid). The other grandkids will probably be biologically human, but I bet other stats will be used again for fun.

4. The villains will likely be the Doodler, the surviving Mega Daddies, and maybe Lark???????

5. Grandkid Class Predictions:

- Glenn’s Grandkid: If Freddie is playing Glenn’s grandkid, I would personally love to see him play a sorcerer with wild magic. This could be justified through infernal heritage. I could also see cleric being a class with potential, which could hang on the whole hell being converted to Christianity joke. But, something tells me it would be more funny to see Freddie deal with wild magic. I guess Glenn’s grandkid could also be a bard, but I get the feeling this season will allow the group to explore playing new classes.

- Henry’s Grandkid: I could see Henry’s grandkid being a martial class of some sort, assuming the Doodler magic is no longer affecting the Oak bloodline. I think a Ranger would be a lot of fun to see Will Campos play. Also, a Ranger could totally have a love-wolf pet if the love-wolf tradition becomes an Oak family thing (especially if the kid is Sparrow’s) A monk would also make sense in the Oak family considering the whole wellness and yoga practices Barry and Henry advocate for.

- Ron’s Grandkid: It would be cool if Ron’s grandkid was a wizard? I think Beth May would have a lot of fun playing a squishy caster, and it would make sense as Terry seems to want to study magic that maybe he would teach his child the same. A warlock would also be an interesting option as the grandkid’s class would be the same as Willy Stampler’s.

- Darryl’s Grandkid: I’m the most unsure about this one, to be honest. Probably a martial class or a half-caster. I could easily see Fighter or a Paladin happening, but I don’t have any strong intuitions about it. I have a feeling Grant (the kid’s dad) will end up becoming a Barbarian due to his more violent tendencies post-killing the chimaera. Will this pass on to his kid? Who knows.

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so! you wanted to talk about your ocs, yeah? hm, idk about them so can you give a little introduction about who they are and their likes or something like that? or at least about some of them? thanks! 🥰💞

Thank you! Sorry for the delay I wrote way too much then wrote less but still too much then I took medicine that knocked me out lol.

So I’m going to talk about Draven because he’s who I’m fixated on, but if you want me to jump to another OC just say the word and I’ll talk about someone else instead.

So my first attempt at answering got out of hand and was not a “little introduction” so I’ll tag you in a separate post with all that if you feel inclined to read it after seeing the ‘short’ answer lmao. Even this answer got long so you can imagine the other went very detailed.

Let’s start with the part that’s short, his likes and dislikes.

Likes: Cats, he grew up with a big blonde cat named Captain who only liked him and he’s loved cats ever since.

Leto, his surrogate brother.

His friends…begrudgingly sometimes.

Music, he’s a big music lover, especially violin music but really anything he can tell had real passion put behind it.

Makeup and generally making himself look beautiful: it offsets the scars a bit and people—including his enemies—already call him uncomfortably pretty so why not lean into it. Plus it makes him feel good when people call him pretty/beautiful. (He might be slowly having some gender self-revelations but Draven isn’t very insightful so it’s taking him a while)

Dislikes: Demons, demons, demons. Glabrezus (treachery demons), Succubi (you know), you get the point. He really hates demons. He doesn’t mind tieflings/ abyssal sorcerers/ other people who just happen to have demonic blood in them, so long as they don’t let it define them. Which is good for him since he recently discovered *he* has demonic blood in his bloodline so he’d have had a way worse breakdown if he’d been upset about the blood in general not just which specific demon it belonged it (Jerribeth, a Glabrezu, and likely the cause of his entire family’s deaths…so yeah, baggage)

Other things he hates…people telling him how he should feel about something. He’ll feel how he should feel in his own time and not a moment sooner.

Having people’s lives in his hands. He’s a commander of an army he has no choice in the matter but he hates it so much he wishes he could just be a front line grunt fighting demons and risking his own life not giving the order that might kill dozens or more of others if things go wrong or he miscalculated. He carries the weight of every person who has died under his command and take it very personally.

People insulting tieflings for their existence.

About: this still got long but less long than the first time.

Draven Imani is a warpriest of the goddess of righteous valor, justice, and honor, Iomedae. After his family was killed by demons when he was 8 and he was the sole survivor, he was saved by Iomedaen crusaders. After he was healed, except for a Mark of Deskari on his wrist that festers and remains open no matter what healing is applied, they had him bandage up and keep it secret, although vicious rumors already began spreading. He was taken in by an Iomedaen orphanage called the Light-Oath Orphanage. This is where he gained his faith, and his desire to follow in the footsteps of the crusaders who saved his life. This is also where he met his best friend and surrogate brother, the tiefling Leto, who he’s been inseparable from for 13 years.

The two of them made a group of 6 who all wanted to join the crusades for various reasons, and they set out for the Crusader hub city of Kenabres. Unfortunately when they were an hour out of the city, a demon slipped through the wardstone barrier. Draven sensed it first, the evil mark on his wrist burning and bleeding in response. It was too late to flee or warn the others, and one by one they fell. Draven lost his eye while trying to protect Leto, and doesn’t remember the rest of the fight from the shock and trauma. Next thing he remembers is waking up in a healer’s bed in a temple of Iomedae in Kenabres, Leto waiting for him, his other friends dead, and unable to see out of half his vision.

The for next year he retrained himself how to fight with his sword and shield with only one eye, relearning to judge distances and to mostly figure out his spacial awareness. However because everyone saw him as irreversibly damaged, he got relegated to the lowest, least prestigious, most mocked rank of the crusades: the Raven Corps. And there he rotted in guard duty and being degraded by both townsfolk and other crusaders, all of whom see the Raven Corps as the lowest of the low.

Then the Wardstone protecting the city was destroyed, the Stormking, one of Deskari’s generals, lead an attack on the city and began slaughtering everyone, and the party was swept underground by the silver dragon Paladin of Iomedae, Terendalev, who told them they had a destiny to fulfil.

And then Auriel Answerer, Draven’s friend and mentee from the Raven Corps died right next to him striking a fatal blow against a Baphomet cultist. And it turned out Auriel was supposed to be Iomedae’s Chosen One. So because Auriel vouched for Draven, now Draven is the one allowed to wield the Holy Sword Radiance—although Radiance themself seems begrudging of this.

Draven met his hero, Commander Irabeth Tirabade, a half-orc Paladin and former Raven Corps member who once saved the city and was promoted to commander of the prestigious Eagle Watch Legion in recognition. Irabeth immediately gave Draven a field promotion to acting captain of the Raven Corps for recent events. No pressure or anything.

We destroyed the final wardstone shard that Deskari cultists were trying to corrupt into a weapon, via our archer Hiskaria avoiding a boss battle while the party fought her and kept her distracted by being bigger threats until it was too late. Then Hisy jabbed the stone with the rod of cancellation and it broke and destroyed her and two of her minions. And a single shard hit each of us after we had a vision of what had meant to happen—of the doomed world we weren’t meant to save—and how our actions had literally broken fate. Afterwards in reality the Wardstone shards sank into us and bequeathed new powers to each of us.

The night after becoming Mythic Draven met Iomedae in our dreams and received a number of really helpful boons from her. So Draven was in awe there. And learned from meeting the warrior goddess that maybe he should be less self deprecating about his own facial scars.

Since then he met the Queen of Mendev, got promoted to Commander of his own legion (The Adamant Shield Legion) with Irabeth friggin Tirabade as his mentor and advisor, they liberated an impenetrable citadel in two days, found out Leto was now working with the cult of Baphomet for unknown reasons, but he promised Draven that he wouldn’t let them hurt him. It turned out he’d been acting strangely since meeting a Glabrezu on the battlefield, and when Draven tried to ask over sending Leto only told him that “wishes come true at the most unexpected times”.

Since then. Dray’s learned that the mark on his wrist means he also made a wish to a Glabrezu, that he doesn’t remember because he was a traumatized child who was just tortured and saw his family killed when he got his mark. And not just any Glabrezu—Lady Jerribeth, the original architect of Drezen’s fall, and very likely the cause of his family’s deaths. And not only that, but Jerribeth’s blood runs through his veins, from within the last few generations of his family. So the Crusader, the demon slayer, who fights demons but embraces tieflings, is struggling to put his money where his mouth is when it’s his own blood touched by a demon’s influence. Also killing another mark bearer places a new mark of Deskari onto him, so he has a new one on his neck now from killing a raider half-fiend berserker who also shared Jerribeth’s blood and mark. He’s scared of the implications.

And that’s Draven so far.

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HELL YEAH, DUDE! INFO DUMP ABOUT YOUR OC, OR SO HELP ME!

eyyyyyyyyy. CW for discussion of violent fictional bigots leading to body image issues.Okay so here's the thing. My boy Curio a sweet, kind of shy, well-meaning, socially awkward 28-year-old wizard. Tallish, no muscles whatsoever, big round glasses, kind of stupid facial hair, your standard stereotype.

Except that's not what he looks like, really.

That image is missing a Hat of Disguise (grey irish flat-cap), which he wears constantly, even while sleeping unless he can be sure he's alone. His full first name is Curiosity and what he actually looks like is somewhere around these two pictures, except with broken horns and a helluva lot more faded-over-2-decades facial scarring.

That childhood scarring is the reason why he literally never takes the hat off, no matter what; not because of the scarring itself, but because of what it represents. He grew up with so much baggage attached to his identity as a tiefling because, apart from a very supportive but imperfect and over-her-head single human mother, he had no support network in a small town where he was the only tiefling and almost-if-not-all of the entire town were superstitious humans who were very not interested in examining their biases. The children his age and a few years older were the ones who gave him most of that damage. But there's a reason his mother named him Curiosity; ever since he was old enough to explore, he did so enthusiastically and constantly, and after enough of that (and playing mostly alone) he developed skills that other kids his age didn't have, and he essentially became a gifted child. His mom took advantage of that (and some favors with an old friend) when the bullying got especially bad and got Curio scholarships to send him away to a mage's college in a more open-minded area where he would be protected and taken care of, in exchange for helping with tasks around the college until he was old enough to become an official student. The college became his life. He threw himself into the study of everything having to do with magic - history, mechanics, culture, ethics, etc. - partly as distraction, partly as hyperfixation (I do imagine he's neurodivergent in some way), and partly, subconsciously, as a desperate way to grasp at some sort of explanation for why he exists the way that he does and why the world around him is the way that it is.The enchanted hat was something he got at some point during his time at the college, and it essentially became a comfort item for him, and even though he probably could have gotten by without it with *less* problems than he had in his hometown, he just refused to go without it for years after the fact both out of fear of what could happen again and out of what had become, at that point, a deeply ingrained sense that he was just *wrong* and that he needed to hide himself to avoid burdening others.And all of that is just background for his situation in the current campaign, as a 7th-level wizard who has been traveling with a southern sweetheart druid satyr, a young-looking and mysterious dreamfolk warlock, a puss-in-boots-esque tabaxi fighter, a sweet grandmotherly minotaur barbarian, and a tiefling sorcerer in his late 40's who has a lot of backstory commonalities with Curio, particularly being raised by a single mother, having bad experiences as a kid due to his fiendish heritage, leaving home young, and hiding his appearance when he was younger. (Side note, the sorcerer's player and I *did not plan this*. We both came up with backstories independently, we didn't really have a session 0, and we just now found out how weirdly similar our characters' lives have been, though there's obviously been some differences too.)I started out this campaign by letting all the players know openly that Curio was not human, because I knew I couldn't keep a secret. In the 9 months we've been playing (we had a hiatus for a few, so it's more like 6-7 months of weekly to bi-weekly sessions), the character that's come the closest to figuring it out has been the sorcerer, Turavel, because he has obvious advantages when it comes to picking out which things just don't seem right for a human wizard to do. For example, on top of the weirdness of Curio never taking the hat off, sleeping alone often, bathing alone often, etc., he barely (roll of 15 vs 14) caught Curio tearing up when Turavel was talking about where he came from, and he thought it was weird that Curio could cast things like Hellish Rebuke. (The player, actually, was the only one of us to call this out when it happened, so I made note of it.) At the time (months ago irl, about 2-4 weeks ago in game time), I as the player didn't think Curio's cover had been blown, because I was convinced that Wizards could cast Hellish Rebuke, and I

even informed the player that Curio has fake entries in his spellbook for Hellish Rebuke, Thaumaturgy, and Darkness, just in case anyone ever saw it who also saw him cast those things. But I discovered today while searching for level-up spells for him that I was wrong. As soon as I realized, I sent Turavel's player these messages:

"Looking through wizard-only spells and realized that I as the player made ANOTHER mistake, specifically about which spells would be natural to see a wizard use, which means Curio made another mistake because I'm not retconning anything I said about what he's done. WhoopsieSince you actually called it out at the time (not the latest nat 1, the one time Curio used it before that) I'll be clear with you: Hellish Rebuke is a 2nd level, Warlock-only spell. Curio has the Magic Initiate feat, which might explain why he knows Thaumaturgy which is a cleric-only spell, since his 1st level spell for that feat is Healing Word which is exclusive to clerics, bards, and druids... but if that were the case that wouldn't explain why he can also use Vicious Mockery, which only works with bardic magic. He would have had to have learned Healing Word in a bardic way, leaving Thaumaturgy unaccounted for, unless there's just some explanation other than fiendish heritage or magic initiate that Turavel has literally never heard of before. Maybe there's a bardic college that would allow for the learning of Thaumaturgy? Unlikely. In that case Hellish Rebuke would still be unaccounted for, unless Curio has a secret patron and is a multiclassed warlock/wizard. Occam's razor. And since Turavel's the only one who asked to see his spellbook [in return, after Curio asked to see the spellbooks of all the other spellcasters], help me remember and I'll let you contest me on arcana with advantage to put all this together when we meet next."

And that's where we are. Curio's about to get fully found out because of overthinking and overprotecting himself in ways that weren't necessary, after just casually and confidently trading spellbooks - for strategic study - with the one person in the party who was always leagues more likely than anyone else to figure out what was going on. The same sorcerer who is old enough to be Curio's father and knows almost *exactly* what he's going through, and who Curio would probably be the most ashamed to be found out by, because he would probably be worried that his disguising of his tiefling nature would be interpreted as an insult even though Curio has terrible anxiety about the whole thing and literally can't help it. And I just think it's extra fun that the reason this is happening so soon is because of decisions I made intentionally as a player to make it *harder* to find him out, while truly thinking about what he would actually do. And I swear to god if that roll at advantage doesn't work I'm giving him all the inspiration I've got, because this is too good. I'm excited for the ensuing cathartic drama and for this precious boy to finally start learning how to love himself.p.s. in case any readers haven't picked up by now it's a closeted-trans-youth meets open-trans-elder allegory. This is what happens when you play DnD with other trans people

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Primes, character(s) of your choice

I'm gonna answer these for whichever character(s) I have the most interesting/relevant answers for:

2. Do they consider themselves an optimist? Pessimist? Realist? What are they like in actuality?

Nydra (drow moon cleric) is optimistic pretty much as part of her religion/is part of her religion because she is optimistic. She wants to believe the best of everyone and give everyone as many second chances as is practially possible

3. How do they carry themselves around strangers? Friends/Lovers? Family?

I'm not the *best* at roleplaying personalities vastly different from my own, so most of my characters, when they're around friends act as silly and rambly as I tend to be around my own friends. The main exception to this is HILDA (pissed off robot), who is the most different-from-myself character I've ever played, despite falling very firmly into the universal law of "DND is about projection". She is extraordinarily blunt, and always says things with as few words as possible. She's not comfortable with many people, but with those people, she's way more willing and able to admit she's not 100% confident and correct in her life philosophy, as opposed to the rest of the time, where she's not willing to entertain the idea that someone else might be right....

5. How does your character express they’re comfortable?

Leanora (chaotic stupid rogue) stops trying to impress people when she's comfortable. This is when all her worst ideas get to see the light of day.

7. How impulsive is your character?

As mentioned a moment ago, Leanora is a factory of the worst ideas you could possibly imagine. She doesn't just do stupid things without consulting the party usually (bc that can be a very un-fun table dynamic) but this is the character who goes to the local magic school, and buys the student's not-quite-right-but-not-disastrously-failed potions homework. This has resulted in hilarity and messes and she's been turned to stone by one of them.

11. How does your character blow off steam?

HILDA is definitely the character with the most steam to blow off, being filled with existential dread and rage at all times as she is. While she is in denial about a lot of it, you can really see a lot of that being expressed in incredible violence! There's a lot of grenades to be thrown, and a lot of uhhhhh needless cruelty in how she deals with organic life forms.

M'artha Stu'art, another half elf rogue, whose character concept is "housewife who finally f*cking lost it and ran off to become an adventurer" also likes to indulge in violence, but also she does a lot of stress baking! Luckily her campaign setting involves a lot of access to ovens, so a lot of times she'll provide the party with delicious pies and cookies.

13. If they were a body of water, what would they be?

Nydra would be a lake, I think.

17. Does your character swear? What’s their favorite phrase/word?

Leanora has lots of reasons to go "oh sit. f*ckf*ckf*ck noooooo" a lot.

19. How does your character act when they want to seem threatening?

HILDA goes with brute violence and a lot of looming over people. The rest of my characters tend go for leverage rather than "threats of bodily harm" when they need to intimidate, partly because I don't tend to play beefy lads (or beefy non lads).

23. Would your character want to be famous? Why or why not?

The only character I have that might want to be famous is my recently-created tiefling bard, Disco.

29. What does your character have too much of?

HILDA canonically has an endless supply of grenades. This may be too many.

31. Can your character visualize actual concepts in their head? Or are they just vague thoughts?

I personally really struggle to literally visualize images, and can't relate to people who can, so all my characters are like that too lol

37. What are some ways your character acts silly?

Leanora is trying to establish folklore about a minor god(dess) of soup. Any time the party is sleeping at an inn, she'll "spread the good word", especially if the inn serves a really good soup or stew.

Mercy (idiot Changeling sorcerer traveling with an evil party) will prank the warlock, by placing little toy spiders everywhere

41. What’s a texture/sound your character cannot stand?

I have misophonia and therefore so do all my characters. Disco hates anything dirty or slimy.

43. Is your character good at apologizing? Why or why not?

HILDA will never admit she has done anything wrong. Ever. Leanora will nope right out of the consequences of her actions mostly (or try to solve them by usually making a bigger problem).

Nydra can get a little single-track-mind, and when she realizes this in retrospect, she's usually OK about apologizing.

47. Do they consider themselves funny? How do they use humor?

Leanora truly uses humor as a defense mechanism. This is because DND Is About Projecting.

HILDA usually claims that humor is a stupid things that humans do, but when she occasionally has a zinger to contribute, she considers herself a comedic genius.

53. What does freedom mean to them?

One of Leanora's base ideals is freedom, in the sense of not letting anyone tell you jack sh*t about yourself. Her backstory is not Full Tragedy, but it involves a lot of her mentor and her social circle kind of telling her "this is how the world is, and this is how you need to act to live in it, and the fact that you're here means you're this kind of person", and the reason she's an adventurer is to prove to herself that it isn't true.

59. What’s something your character has realized?

We stopped playing this campaign shortly before HILDA actually realized this, but she was about to realize that, not only is gender fake even in general, but she's literally a robot and it doesn't even make sense for her to have a gender, she was just programmed with "female" as part of the concept of her existence. Her name is also uhhh, not a name. Its an acronym that stands for Household Integrated Live-in Domestic Assistant, and there are millions of HILDA units out there. The realization that she doesn't even have a name just a designated label, its like a toaster coming to life and continuing to just be called "toaster". The realization that she had been using a human designation that quite literally objectifies her, and the idea that this weird notion of gender had been foisted upon her without any input of her own and she had just gone with it without questioning that until now. That realization was gonna be a doozy.

I did not intend for HILDA to be this, but she accidentally became a way for me to look at my own agender feels. I really wish I had gotten to play more of that campaign for a number of reasons, but this is one of em. I also did a little bit of Agender Feels with Mercy the changeling sorcerer, but its less intrinsic to her character.

61. Who do they go to when they’ve had a nightmare?

It's cliche, but Nydra prays. Lately, though, the moon might be Fake, so she's not sure really where to go with things like that at the moment.

67. Selflessness or Self-Preservation?

Nydra is all about selflessness, and kind of struggles when she has to think of herself first, even when it means she's preserving herself so she can do More Good later. she's the asshole in the trolley problem who throws herself in front of the trolley to stop it, though she knows thats kind of also a flaw a lot of the time.

HILDA and Mercy are 100% self preservation, and M'artha is like 65% self preservation at least.

Leanora is very "por que no los dos" about everything, and tries to loophole her way into a Both answer whenever possible.

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I KNOW MY PROMPT! Per the thing I sent you in DM: Mighty Nein x Vox Machina fighting some eldritch deity tigether that swaps their powers mid-battle with who their players play. Percival de Rolo, the man who would be atheist if the gods were not so clearly real, needs to literally pick a god and /pray/.

it’s wild how long it’s taken me to do this and also you’ll need this post for context(tweaked just slightly by yours truly)

—

Of course, they’d been warned that reality would be thin here.

Essek had told them all, at length, that usage of the beacon would likely thrust them into a world slightly different from theirs, and Allura had repeated, again and again, that nothing about the Chained Oblivion would make sense. It was the manifestation—the primordialsource of delusion—and as powerful as any of them were, they would still be at the mercy of its maddening effects.

Which was why, when the battle finally began, when the abyss started seeping into the Prime Material Plane and the first broken chain lashed out of the empty dark, when the threads of probability started curling, swirling, cocooning around them with the one strand where this was possible—

—well, it really shouldn’t have been all that surprising when Keyleth just swung her staff upside Tharizdun’s skull.

What passed for its skull, anyway.

And then Vex’s arrows crackled with necrotic energy and for a second, Percy could’ve sworn she’d spouted wings. Grog lunged forward and a sword was in his hands, icy-blue, mist in the air, and the supposed monk from that other motley crew suddenly thrust out and called lightningfrom the sky. The hands of their wizard now glowed with the Everlight, and their aasimar fighter, or whatever she was, had suddenly called forth a hail of thorny vines. And as Percy looked down at his own palms, he realized suddenly that his gun felt foreign, and clumsy, and wrong.

His fingers fumbled against the catch and the safety of knowing, the security of understanding, was slipping rapidly, terrifyingly from his mind.

He looked around desperately, then dodged another chain that lashed out towards him, slicing through the night.

Or did he? And did it actually miss, or had it tried to hit the mirage now at his side, a flickering, shifting, image of himself, a perfect copy, one he didn’t know how he made—

A sorcerer, then, he quickly decided. Or, perhaps, some kind of warlo—

This time, the chain didn’t miss, striking directly at his chest. But his arm was up before he could even shout, and strapped to his elbow, clutched in his hand, was a silver shield, shining bright—

A paladin? Oh, gods, not the—thegods.

But he didn’t have a chance to groan any louder, because more of the abyss was pouring through, now. Their allies—the united forces of two continents—were still keeping the demons at bay, but the longer that Tharizdun could exist, the angrier they got, the more distorted their minds, the worse the probability that they’dlose this fight—

The light of the Luxon flickered, and Percy knew he had no time to waste.

He threw himself back into the battle, kicking scorched grass up as he ran. His eyes darted across the other fighters—a goblin, a firbolg, but who had his guns? Who had he switched with, where was his power—

And then, he saw it, in the hands of a blue tiefling. Bad News had somehow found its way into her grasp, and she was crouched behind a boulder, looking confused but understanding, eyes focused and breathing low. Percy desperately had to wrack his mind, and through the confusion and the twisting and the blood, inhaled, focused, remembered—

The….Traveler?

He jerked around another writhing chain, ducked behind a half-fallen tree to ask.

“Is that you?” he hissed, under his breath.“Ah…Traveler? Are you out there? I could—gods, I could use the help!”

Dirt and ash flew past his face. The sharp smell of blood filled the air.

Something warm pressed into his chest.

Frantically, Percy threw the axe aside. His fingers dug below his coat and after a second of desperate rifling, they clutched around something hard and he thrust his hand back into the night—

The symbol of a doorway, reflecting the light of a thousand different realities, all in one.

The image was…oddly familiar.

And then, he heard Vex’ahlia cry out. His head shot above the charred bark and he swiveled around, saw her stumble, saw a sword in her hand that he’d never seen before and saw her teeth grit, saw a chain rise—

He ran forward, cried, “Vex! Watch out!”

A burst of holy light exploded around his wife, enveloping her with a blazing, green glow. He watched, steps faltering, as her wounds began to close, as her posture straightened, her lips grinned, eyes narrowed—

She was back in the fight before Percy could recover. Of course she was, and her next strike was brutal—

He took a deep breath, steadied himself.

“T-Traveler?” he tried.“Was that…you?”

A voice, lilting, and soft and—

“Of course. Can’t have her falling, not now.”

—oddly, oddly familiar.

His eyes went wide. He whirled around.

“Artagan? Is that—is that you?!”

—

Ko-fi in bio✨ | Finished 5k fic prompts right here! 💜 Requests Are CLOSED!

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The League of Villains Plays DnD AU

(Saw a post by @bunny-loverxiv last night that reminded me I’ve had this stupid thing in my drafts unfinished for over a year now. I’m not sure I’ll ever have time to come back and finish it, but in the spirit of what I posted earlier, here it is, in all its unfinished.. glory...)

Since I asked for a League of Villains plays DnD AU and no one delivered, alas, I guess I’ll just do all the work myself!

So, without further ado:

Shigaraki Tomura’s Character Sheet:

Race and Appearance: Fallen Aasimar, with hair pale as the flesh of wraiths and eyes like two burning pools of blood, reflecting out from the infernal pits of the abyss. His rippling muscles under his bone-white skin carry the scars of his uncountable victories, and when his corrupted celestial powers radiate forth, ghostly skeletal wings rise--

( “Do I have to keep reading? This is really long...”

“It’s important!”)

Alias: “Zephiroth”

(”Isn’t that the guy from Final Fantasy?”

“No! That was Sephiroth! My character’s name is totally different!”)

Class: Oath of Conquest Paladin/Hell Knight

Motto: Dim the Ray of Hope

A dread knight whose armor is black with the blood of his enemies; to stand against him on the field of battle is to know true fear, and none have called themselves his equal and lived to tell the tale. His menacing aura is a cloud of evil righteous murder that spreads across the land as he advances, and everywhere he travels is seeped into the deepest of despairs. Civilizations tremble before the darkness of his impossibly dark darkness.

(“Did you run out of adjectives?”

No, I meant exactly what I said.”)

Also, collects the severed hands of his conquests.

(”Tomura-kun, this isn’t a character, this is just you!”

“Collecting body trophies is standard lore for conquest paladin; you’d know if you read Xanathar’s Guide.”)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

(“Shigaraki Tomura, I am not sure this alignment fits with the character you’re describing--”

“I wrote the campaign, so good’s whatever I say it is.”

“Boss, doesn’t playing in your own campaign defeat the purpose? Knowing everything ahead of time’s a great idea!”

“Shut up, I don’t care about spoilers.”)

Backstory: Zephiroth the Bloody swore an oath to complete the conquest of his father, King Jenovo, who fell in battle to his eternal rival and estranged foolish younger brother, Nimbus Might ( “You know, I really think I’ve heard these names before...”). Jenovo’s quest was undoubtedly a noble one: to reunite the brothers’ separated kingdoms under a single legitimate banner--and its single legitimate ruler. The two brothers clashed in a battle of titans that shook the entire world, and though he was in the wrong, Nimbus Might reigned supreme in the end, and took Jenovo’s life and kingdom both. The death of his father crushed the last remnants of joy and love in young Prince Zephiroth’s black heart and now he will stop at nothing to put an end to Nimbus Might’s reign by turning every symbol of his false kingdom to dust.

Notable Stats and Weapon: +5 Intimidation, +5 Persuasion; greatsword and shield wielder.

Tomura is a quintessential min-maxer; he made everyone else take the standard array for stats but... “rolled” for his.

(”This old man’s been reviewing the character sheets, Shigaraki, and couldn’t help but notice some discrepancies in the party’s stats compared to yours--”

“You’re welcome to not play. Ever.”

“Must have been a trick of the light!”)

Carrying: The holy relic “Lavos”

(”Isn’t that just from Chrono Cross?”

“I think you mean, Khrono Kross, Spinny.”)

The relic is a glowing black and red container imbued with a hellish aura, containing magical bullets said to be formed from the blood of the time goddess, allowing Shigaraki to permanently unwind his opponents’ powers. Limited use, 5 times.

Dabi:

Race and Appearance: Tiefling.

(“Did you not even bother to write an appearance?!”

“My character has the same appearance as me.”

“That’s not even possible. Tieflings are supposed to have horns!”

“Okay, my character has the same appearance as me with horns.”)

Alias: “Dabi”

(”You can’t name your character after yourself!”

“But I’m not named Dabi.”)

Class: Phoenix Sorcerer

Motto: Ashes to Ashes

(”You can’t play this class either, it isn’t canon.”

“You told me to pick one from the wiki; ain’t my problem you didn’t specify.”

“I said no homebrew!”

“And that means... what?”)

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

(”You ignored my instructions about our alignment too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you said‘good’ so I assumed I misheard.”

“We’re the protagonists of this story--our cause is just!”)

Feats and Skills: ...Hmm, for some reason, many things have been written and then crossed out?

(“W-What have you done?! You can’t just modify things however you feel! Why would you even swap out Nourishing Fire for an Elemental Affinity that deals ice damage?! And did you just scratch out ‘long rest’ and put ‘short rest’ here? That’s OP!”

“When the hell have any of you let me get a long rest?”

“Animal Handling as a skill, seriously?!”

“Figured you’d give me some monsters to tame.”

“Go f*ck yourself!”

Shigaraki was, in fact, planning on there being monsters for Dabi to tame.)

Backstory: A traveler with a shadowy past.

(”That’s... your whole backstory? Are you freaking kidd--”

”Aww, come on Dabi, this bio is lame! Oh, I know, I know! You’re actually a prince in disguise, exiled from his kingdom and seeking vengeance on his father, the one who left him horrifically burned and on the brink of death, which caused you to be rescued by the soul of a lonely phoenix, and at the end of your quest, after reclaiming your rightful throne from your evil father, you free the phoenix who possessed you to save your life, but then it returns and swears its eternal love to you! Eehee!”

“We’re...not doing that.”

“You can’t do that anyways, it completely undermines my lore. There are only two kingdoms in this world, and I’m going to be the ruler of both of them.”)

Notable Stats and Weapon: +3 Deception, +4 Insight; wields darts.

(”But why do I even have to pick a weapon? It says right there I have Burning Hands.”)

Carrying: A shard of never-melting ice in the shape of a three-petaled flower; it exudes a calming chill even when wreathed in the wildest of fires. Looking at it makes you feel... melancholy?

(”Why is this the only section with detail?! If you could put this much effort in here, you should have taken the rest seriously too!”)

Mr. Compress:

Race and Appearance: Human, a man in the prime of his life, with a roguish glint in his eye and a rakish gold mustache above his mysterious smirk. There’s an artfully placed scar below his right eye that speaks to a life of the blade and adventure, and his pressed linen and metallic brocade doublet belies his nature as a man of impeccable taste. His jaunty black bandana is always pulled low over his eyes, but mischief seems to twinkle out from beneath the accompanying black mask nevertheless.

(“Oh, I like it! A lot! Hey, hey, will you rewrite mine for me? Make it like yours but cuter!”)

Alias: The Dread Pirate Roberts

(“Huh? The first part is good, but why “Roberts”?

“Well, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Westley.”

“What are you snickering about, Kurogiri?”

“Nothing at all, Shigaraki Tomura.”)

Class: Multi-class Swashbuckler and School of Conjuration Wizard

Motto: To the Pain!

(“These two classes don’t compliment each other at all. You should change to Hexblade at least!”

“As you wish.”

“Kurogiri’s laughing again. What are you two hiding? Tell me!”)

Mr. Compress knew full well the classes he picked didn’t mesh; he just lives for the sh*ts and giggles. He’s actually been playing DnD longer than Toga’s been alive, but where’s the fun in telling Tomura that?

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Skills: Acrobatics, Persuasion, Performance, Sleight of Hand

(“Okay, but am I the only one who actually created a real character instead of a self-insert? DnD’s a role-playing game; isn’t the whole point to use your imagination?!”

“Ain’t our fault your real self is too boring to be a decent character, Lizard.”

“You never miss an opportunity to insult me, do you, asshole?!”)

Backstory: Although he came from unremarkable origins, Westley Roberts found himself thrust on to the path of great destiny when the merchant ship on which he was employed was attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts--

“How can he attack his own ship? You forgot your own name, didn’t you?”

“Not all, Shigaraki! I’m not that old!”

--but when Roberts heard the tale of Westley’s quest to prove himself for the one he loved--

“Wait, who is this other character now? There was no love interest listed before!”

“Just let me tell the story!”

--Roberts was overcome by the depth of Westley’s tale of woe and decided to name him his successor, passing down the title of Dread Pirate Roberts--

“Can I change my character to a Dread Pirate?”

“No, Dabi!”

“I’m just sayin’, why was I not informed of this option?”

--sothathecouldmildlyterrorizethewatersaroundhishomekingdomandfinallyamasstherichesneededtoimpresshischarminglove. PHEW! Thank you for letting me finish!

Notable Stats and Weapon: +4 Dexterity, +5 Charisma; wields a rapier with impeccable skill. Is definitely not left-handed. Carrying: A Rodent of Unusual Size. Excellent distraction. Also edible.

“What is wrong with everyone in this room?!”

And the rest of the League I didn’t finish, but:

Spinner: A gorgeous lady Argonian who spits beams of pure light--

“No, this is too cool. Change it.”

“Awww come on, Shigaraki, just let me have this--”

“Change it.”

Toga: Tabaxi assassin. ON A QUEST FOR LOVE. (May or may not have decided this after peering over Mr. Compress’s shoulder during character creation time.)

Twice: Halfling wizard. None of his stats make sense because he couldn’t make up his mind where to put them.

Hawks: Aarakochra bard. Entirely useless. That asshole who rolls to seduce everything.

Kurogiri: The DM. But not by choice.

There’s no Giran or Gigantomachia because I started writing this before either of them were really “part” of the League. Use your imaginations~

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Main six + courtiers playing D&D part 1

"Alright, now that everyone's here," you said as you were looking over your papers, "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait, wait," Vulgora said, swinging their character sheet in the air, "How did you calculate any of these things? Why the f*ck is here +5" she pointed at their intimidation stat, then moved her finger to the persuasion stat, "And here it's +3?"

"It's because you've added your proficiency bonus there," Nadia explained as she stirred her coffee.

"Proficiency?" they asked, frowning.

"That coloured dot," Julian said.

"Ohh, ohhhh, that makes sense now," they put the paper down and took the large gulp of their beer, recklessly spilling it over the white sheet of paper.

Valerius moves his chair away from the pontifex, as well as his character sheets, "So, I can leave in three hours, right?"

Read the whole chapter here

"Why would you want to leave so soon?" you asked them, pouring them a glass of wine.

"Because there is no fulfilment in wasting time with filling these sheets and sitting idly, spending the precious time in useless chatter about non-existing worlds and their non-existing characters going into non-existing journeys," quaestor added as they pulled a chair in between Volta and Vulgora, "If your heart yearns for such journeys and adventures then why don't you go on and experience them on your own?"

"I see you've done some research," Portia adds as she put a huge tray of food next to the procurator, "Ilya remember when we used to play D&D?"

Julian gave his sister a wide grin, "Oh, I remember when you started yelling at me whenever I would be a DM."

"Well that's because you would never let me do anything I wanted to," she put a cup of tea next to the praetor, "Careful, it's still hot."

"So how long do we play this game?" Vlastomil asked, "I need to take care of my dear Wriggler. Oh, how sad she was when I left," he frowned, quickly wiping a single dear, "She must be worried sick, wriggling around, eating her sorrows away..."

"Oh, I can completely understand her, yes I can," Volta rose her head from her food, giving the praetor an understanding look, "I always eat when I'm stressed and anxious."

"You always eat, though," Asra commented before facing Julian, "Did I fill this right?" they asked him.

"Hm, let me see," he took the papers, along with the player's handbook. He would list through the pages, not bothering to check the book content, only stopping when he needed to check the papers.

"Here," he pointed at the skills, "You can check another stat you want."

"Oh, thanks," they took the pencil and checked insight, adding the proficiency bonus.

"So, shall we begin then?" you asked as you raised DM's screen.

"Why do you have that?!? Where is mine?!?"

"Yeah, I want some too!" Lucio demanded.

"But I am the DM, players can't have this."

"Can we just begin already?" Muriel said something for the first time, "I just want to leave."

"Alright, fine. I hope you've all made yourselves comfortable because we won't take a break for a while."

"Oh, that's no good, no, that is terrible," tiny procurator said as she was chewing her food, spilling some of it out, "What about the food? We're almost out!"

"Don't worry dear," Nadia said, as she was taking one of her rings out, cleaning the emerald with her sleeve, "Food will be brought over the time, so let's just begin already."

"Alright, alright, let's begin now," you said as you gathered magic in your hands, letting it poof and cover the top of the table, "The story begins in a small tavern on the northern side of the human village-"

"Let's smash their skulls and claim all of their things!" Vulgora said as they smashed their fist on the table, moving the mist away.

"I mean, you could do that," you said, putting your finger on your lips as you gave their idea a bit more thought. Once you've come up with the satisfying idea, you started to control the mist, folding it to your liking, until the mist turned into an inside of a tavern, with all of their characters sitting on one table, some of them drinking, others talking(more like arguing) and others playing a game of cards.

Amongst them, there is one certain Dragonborn who can't seem to calm down. They stand up, walking over the table, then announcing their idea loudly enough for the other PC's to hear:

"Let's kill everyone in this stupid village!" the Dragonborn said.

"I don't know, I kinda like it here," Julian's PC said as they took another glass of beer.

"Oh, I love this magic smoke!" he said as he grabbed a handful of popcorn, munching on it as he tried not to spill it.

"I'll try my best to make it as realistic as possible," you said, as you stopped motioning with your hands once you were sure the magic will last, "But anyway, any other thoughts on Vulgora's idea?"

"Absolutely no." Nadia and her character said in unision.

"I have to agree with the countess," Valerius said as he went through his character sheets, "The guards will kill us all."

"No they won't," Vulgora responded sharply, "There are so many of us, we will kill them all!"

"We are all first level, so I doubt it," Portia said, taking the tray of food and setting it in front of hungry Volta.

"Wait, there are levels here," praetor asked, his head buried in the player's handbook, not understanding anything.

"Yes, twenty of them, apparently," Valdemar added calmly, clearly bored;"Um, is that supposed to happen?" Muriel asked as they pointed towards a figure walking towards their PC's.

With a sly grin, you started to tell them your story. Altering your voice to what you believe a tall, middle-aged sorcerer would sound like.

Everyone looked at each other as if they thought that the other knew what was going on. Once they realised that this is most likely something about your story, they looked at the fog and listened to the old sorcerer.

"So... you must be the adventurers who want to," he quickly took a glance at the other people in the tavern, leaning towards the table the group was sitting in, and, with a low voice, said, "Kill the gods?"

"I, uh," Muriel stuttered, not knowing how to react, however, Asra started talking, moving the attention to them and, with a sly grin, said "Yes, you got the right people."

"Oh, ho, so it is indeed you," he chuckled, "What an... interesting bunch you are... reminds me of the last adventurers who have tried to do what you long for..." he smiled, "Ohh, those were the times, yes indeed they were."

"Tell us more about them," Portia insisted.

"Ohh, they were, you know, quite the colourful bunch," he said, "Though not as big as you are. Just a small group of three, a human, tiefling and a..." he stopped talking for a moment, taking the time to run their bony hands through the beard, "A, hmm, was she a pureblood, or a human too... I can't quite recall," he shrugged it off with a simple gesture of hands, "It doesn't matter. The important, and a quite interesting part, is that they were all wronged by the world and-"

"Oh, please make it quick, I don't care about them!" Vulgora's PC said.

"I use my cantrip prestidigitation to muffle out their complains," Asra said.

"Okay, you succeeded," you said, through a giggle as you muted Vulgora's endless number of complaints.

"," Vulgora tried to say something, but no words could be heard from their lips. However, this couldn't stop them, so they signed to Asra a few words, probably the only ones they knew how to sign: I'll crush you, wizard boy!

"Sorry about that my good sir," Nadia's PC turned on her chair, calling a taverner, "Could you please bring us some ginger ale for this gentleman?"

The sorcerer chuckled, satisfied with the free drink and continued, "Well then, where was I again, ah yes," he stroke his long beard as he recalled the lore, "Those three were, quite a chaotic bunch to say the least. They all hated this society, but they didn't blame the government, no no, they blamed the gods who have created this world. So anyway, what is the reason behind your decision?" he leaned to Muriel's druid, "Is it power, glory and praise? No, you don't look like the type who desires such things..." he muttered, leaning towards the evil Tiefling, "What about you, oh I think I know!" he nodded with satisfaction, "You seek the answers, young one, don't you? Or maybe it's the curiosity; what would the world be like with no god? Oh, ho, ho..." he sat back to his chair, just in time as he was handed the beverage and took a huge gulp, choking on it. With a few loud coughs, he calmed down and continued, "Well then, I must warn you, everyone who tried to kill a God has met the same fate, so I truly hope that your reason is worth it."

"Of course it is!" Lucio exclaimed, happy that the attention finally focused on him, "If we kill Gods, then everyone would be forced to become an atheist, and the only person that they could worship would be me!"

Everyone took a moment of silence to think through his preposterous statement. Julian and Portia tried to muffle their laugh, while Vugora, who finally got the ability to talk again stayed silent.

"Well, I mean," the old man started, "I guess it's not that bad. There wouldn't be any cultist attacks anymore..." he stayed silent after that statement as he, slowly this time, took a sip of the drink. Once he had drunk it all, he stood up, "Well, thank you, my children, for the drink, in return, I offer you the map to three of twelve artefacts that you'll need to kill a god."

"Wait, what are we supposed to do after we got them?" Volta asked as she chewed on a sandwich with excitement in her eyes. She was certainly enjoying this a lot more than she had expected to.

In response, the sorcerer chuckled, but this time, there was something odd in his voice, "Oh, please, only two people have gotten all three of the artefacts," after that bold statement, he seemed to have realised that he might have sounded a bit too dark, so he changed the tone, giving the group a warm smile, "But I'm sure that you could get them. Oh, ho, ho, after all, there is eleven of you, I'm sure some of you could be lucky enough."

With that, he dropped them a scroll and slowly walked towards the exit."So," you said, "What will you do with the scroll?"

"Read it, obviously," Valerius responded, trying to sound as though he was bored.

"Alright. Nadia, you have opened the scroll, however, you can't understand anything it's written. However, you Valdemar seem to understand it. It's written in Infernal."

"Very well, then," they extended a hand to Nadia, "Give me the scroll."

"Um," she looked at you, as you gathered fog in your hands, forming a scroll with some unreadable words to her, but, when she handed it to Valdemar, they seemed to be able to read it. They didn't read it aloud, instead, they simply rolled their eyes.

"Come on, read it already!" Valstomil demanded.

"Very well then," they started reading a scroll, with a dull voice"Hot elf moms in your area are looking for a good time. No need for a pouch, they just want your big-"

"WRONG SCROLL, WRONG SCROLL!!!" the sorcerer rushed into the tavern, snatching the scroll, replacing it with a lot older one, a bit ripped at the side.

Everyone, excluding some burst into laughter. Portia's face has gotten so red that Julian laughed even louder, pointing at her, even though he didn't look any better. Asra tried to hold in the laugh, knowing that this is not the joke they should laugh at, while Muriel innocently asked Volta what was the big thing elf moms wanted. Neither one of them knew the answer, so they asked Vulgora, who gladly responded with: "Elves want the di-" they stopped as soon as they saw the Countess' disapproving look.

"I swear if this one is also a 'wrong scroll' I'm leaving," Valerius said.

"Alright, alright," you said, a bit disappointed that not everyone enjoyed the joke as much as you did, "Here you go, Julian" you handed him another scroll.

He took it and, with a bit of scepticism, started reading in a dramatic voice, accenting a random word that he found interesting: "The first artefact is Abaddon's dagger. It lies untouched in the Saint Milu's church, slowly rusting away, waiting for its owner to return, or perhaps, for another champion worthy of them..." he stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath and asked in a normal tone: "So, how was that?"

"Perfect Ilyushka!" Portia said with a smile, "You can read the scrolls from now on!" she shifted her gaze to you, "So, how are we supposed to find that dagger?"

"I don't know," you sulked into your seat, "You're supposed to think of an idea," you slowly straightened your posture, "But, if you get stuck, I guess I will help you out."

"Shouldn't we go ask some people about that church?" Volta asked as she bit on cherry cheesecake.

"That seems to be the best option," Nadia concluded, "Then, let's go, shall we?"

Before they left, Julian took a d20 and said with a smirk, "I roll sleight of hand check to see if I can steal some money from that dude drinking beer," he pointed at some random guy sitting next to the exit.

"Alright," you said, "Go on."

He put the dice in between his hands, pretending to pray and rolled it. The dice hit Volta's plate, to which she flinched, and then finally, the dice stopped. It rolled on 16.

"Yeah, you succeeded," you started as you grabbed some popcorn, "You took a little pouch, containing 2gp."

"I walk to the gentleman and inform him that his pouch has been stolen by this terrible man," Valerius said with a sly grin as he sipped his wine.

"Dude NO!" Julian shouted.

Before you could determine the outcome you turned to see if Valerius is still sure about his decision, to which he simply nodded. Amused by the way this is going so far, you said: "Well, you've told the man about the stolen money," you shifted your hands up, moulding the fog to your imagination, then continued talking in a masculine voice, "That rascal! Thank you, my man, at least some of this youth is still polite," the man stood up, walked to Julian, slapped him right across the face and took the old pouch from his hands, "How disrespectful, did your mother teach you that?!?!"

Asra giggled like a highschooler while Muriel looked amused as he listened to Volta commenting about how, if he were to steal her food, she would have given him more than just a slap.

"Roll a d20 to see how bad the imprint looks," you took the d20 that still laid next to Volta's plate to Julian. This time, he didn't do anything fancy, instead, he just rolled it expecting to get some low number.

"Natural twenty," you snorted, hiding your face in your hands from laughter, "Oh my god," you felt your face getting redder and redder from the lack of oxygen, "Yeah, that will defenetely leave a mark," you shifted the fog towards Julian's face, imprinting a red handprint across his left cheek.

"You look like a f*cking idiot!" Vulgora laughed their ass off, pointing at Julian's face.

"Serves you right for doing such a crime!" Vlastomil added, along with Volta who just nodded in approval, too busy with eating to respond.

"Was it really necessary for you to be a snitch, consul?" Nadia asked, "After all, I believe that the point of the game is to do anything you want."

Valerius, in response, gave an ironic smile, lowering his head as if he were to bow, "But countess, I am simply acting according to my," he raised his sheet, "Alignment."

"Can we beat our teammates?" Portia asked.

"Why not," you smiled, still thinking about Julain's scar.

"Okay, so, consul," Portia turned to Valerius, "If you decide to be a snitch again, " she put her hand on Asra's shoulder, "We will beat you up!"

"Just take all of his possessions and give it to the poor if he likes helping so much," Muriel commented as he peeled lemon as if it were an orange.

"Muriel," Portia walked to him and gave him the tightest hug she could, "You're a genius! MC, give him 50gp for such a brilliant idea!"

"Sorry, but I can't," you shifted in your seat as you arranged some of the papers, "But I can continue with the story!"

"Finally, I was getting bored," Valdemar said, "When can I summon the dead?"

"When you reach the third level, I believe," you gave them a quick response and then continued talking about the campaign, "So anyway, you leave the tavern with Julian. who is still dazed by the slap-"

"You'll make this a permanent scar, won't you?" he asked as he pointed at his face.

"Of course I will. So, you left the tavern and noticed a bleeding beggar on the side, what do you do?"

"Valerius, this is your chance!" Asra said mockingly.

"Can we help them?" Volta asked, looking at the fog, "She looks like she hasn't been eating for days!"

"They're bleeding and you're caring about that," Lucio turned to Volta, then to others, "Why should we do anything? MC is probably just messing with us."

"Like with that scroll!" Vlastomil agreed.

"Do they have anything valuable that we could take?" Valdemar asked.

"Oh, I'm glad you're finally getting the hang of roleplaying, quaestor, but no, they don't have anything useful."

"Hm," the quaestor was silent for a moment, then they responded with a gleam of delight in their eyes, "I need components for my spells, no?" they didn't give you the time to respond, "While she may not have any valuables, she still has bones, doesn't she?"

"Valdemar no!" Nadia said.

"Why not, after all, the point of the game is to do anything you want, isn't it?" Valerius, said, still a bit salty.

"Shut up, all of you!" Portia said as she slammed her hands on the table, which made you flinch, "At this point, she'll bleed to death! Julian do something!"

"Why me?"

"Because you have Cure wounds! Use it to heal her!"

"But then I'll spend my slot."

"BuT tHeN I'lL sPeNd mY sLoT," she said as she mimicked him, "I don't care, do it, or else I'll give you a matching scar on the other cheek!"

"Fine... I use my spell on the beggar."

"Okay, you succeeded, the beggar is not bleeding, what now?" you asked.

"I give her some of my food rations," Volta said.

"Alright," you changed the fog to show a healed beggar with some food in front of her, "You've helped her, congrats, but she doesn't say anything, instead, she just stares at you."

"Let's just keep going," Asra said, "We've done enough."

"I agree, let's go for that dagger!"

"But we don't know where it is," Vlastomil said.

"Let's just snoop around then," Portia said with a smile.

"You're in a town," you pointed at the fog which showed their PC's walking around the village, "What now?"

"We ask the NPC's if they know where that church is," Asra said as his PC walked to one woman, "Excuse me, do you know where..." he stopped for a moment to think, " Saint Milu is?"

"Why I do," she said, "But, are you sure you want to go? It's very dangerous."

"Of course we do!" Vulgora added, "Nothing is too dangerous, you're just making a fuss over nothing!"

"Well, if you're so confident, then if you do go there and return alive, I'll tell my dad and he'll reward you."

"Um...sure?" Asra said, a bit reluctant.

"But I need proof that you were there!"

"Sure, what do you want?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" she pouted, "I've never gone there myself. I told you it's too dangerous, remember?"

"Alright, alright, we'll bring you a battle trophy, just tell us where to go, goddammit!" Vulgora said, clearly losing their patience.

"Alright, alright, sheesh," she said, "Just go north from the city's shop. It's the last house in the village, just straight forward," she extended her hand in front of herself, "You can't miss it!"

"Thank you," Julian said, "By the way, has anyone ever told you you look dazzling?"

"Why thank you, " she smiled, "Too bad I can't say the same for your face," she giggled and went her way.

"OH MY GOD!!!" Portia snorted, unable to sustain the laughter.

"You'll keep doing this to me, won't you?" Julian asked defeated.

You nodded and continued., with the narration: "You've walked to the small shop. Do you want to stop by to buy some things?"

All of them agreed and went inside.

"Oh, travellers, I haven't seen any of them in a while. Greetings, greetings, how may I help you," he turned to Vlastomil and Valdemar's PC, to which he immediately shouted, shaking in fear, "Oh GOD, please, please don't kill me! I don't have any valuables, nor do I have much money, plus I'm not tasty, see?" he pointed at himself, "I'm only skin and bone! I barely have anything to feed my son with, please, please spare me!"

"Um, sir," Nadia said, "We are not here to kill you... we just want to buy something."

"You do?" the man straightened himself, grasping at Nadia's hands with tears of joy, "Oh thank you, thank you! I thought this was going to be the last day of my life! Please, ask for anything that you need!"

"Do you have healer's kit?" Volta asked.

"Why I certainly do, my dear," the shopkeeper responded, "That'll be 7gp."

"But isn't the price for that 5gp?" Portia asked.

"It is," the shopkeeper said, "However, I had to buy this in the town and to go all the way to here. Plus I'm also the only shopkeeper in all of the nearby villages."

"Could you give us a special price," Julian asked, "After all we are the adventurers, so we'll surely buy many things!"

"Are you buying the healer's kit for him, dear?" he asked Volta, "I doubt that will be enough to help him," before Julian could protest about the rude comment again, the shopkeeper clapped his hands and said, "But I sure know what could help you!" he bowed down and took a little bottle, "Mommy's kiss!"

"Mommy's kiss?"

"Yes, mommy's kiss is a powerful cream that can clear your skin from any acne, blackheads and, most importantly, scars! Suitable for any race and any skin type! My son loves it!"

"If that's the only thing that will remove this scar, then sure. How much for Mommy's kiss?"

"Well, this is a rare cream that can remove any skin imperfection, but for you, my fine gentleman, I'll lower the price to 200 gp!"

"Two hundred gold pieces for that tiny bottle!?!"

"Well, it is Mommy's kiss, after all."

"Sorry, but I'll have to pass."

"But I'll take the healer's kit," Volta said.

"And I'll take five arrows," Portia said.

"Why does the Great axe cost 30gp?!?" Lucio asked.

"But I only have 10!!!" Vulgora said, "How can we get the money?!?"

"Well, if you go to the Saint Milu, you'll get some money," you said.

"Ughh, fine..."

"Excuse me, sir," Valdemar leaned to the shopkeeper who nervously sweated, "Do you, by any chance, sell bones of the humanoids?"

"Eek!" the shopkeeper said.

"Okay, so, Valdemar, the shopkeeper is terrified of you," you started, "Because of that, you have an advantage on rolling intimidation check. So if you want to force them to give you something, feel free to try."

"Oh, how fun," Valdemar's eyes glowed with joy, "Are there any scrolls here?"

"I, I do have some scrolls," he said, visibly shaking.

"I'll take the one with the inflict wounds spell," they said.

You threw two d20 at them, "Roll them, the AC is 15."

They rolled the dice, where one dice landed on 4 while the other one on 14.

"Is your intimidation at least +1?"

They took a glance at the skills table and gave you a toothy grin.

"You got the scroll, however, the shopkeeper told you to get out or else he'll call the guards."

"Too bad. Looks like you're not going to get Mommy's kiss, Ilyushka!"

"Fear not, we're going to find you Mommy's kiss in some other shop," Lucio said, laughing mid-sentence.

"So, because Muriel has a keen mind feat, he leads all of you north."

"You go Muri!" Portia cheered.

"...Thanks."

Read the whole chapter here

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explorers of arvus: port draavos / 3.23.20

and now for something different: the misadventures of the hope’s guard

so for the past 3 years ive been in an ongoing dnd5e campaign run by michael called Explorers of Arvus, which is super cool and super fun and i love it a whole lot! and back when i used twitter, i’d liveblog our sessions and that ended up being my way of note taking bc im otherwise quite terrible at it

after i stopped using twitter, that had the side effect of me not keeping notes anymore, so i kind of didnt remember any of the past couple sessions? especially because its hard for all 6 of us to have like, schedules that make sense, so there’s a lot of distance between each session.

and then i realized i can just take notes sh*tpost-liveblog style and then just… like, put it on tumblr or whatever. i’ll probably make like, ill probably port over my old liveblog threads onto here sometime but until then: we played d&d today! Time For Shenanigans

some quick context:we’re called the Hope’s Guard, but our unofficial silly name is Chunch Bunchthe Dungeon Master is Michael aka Skalter aka @openlyeight​Taure M’ea is a half-elf paladin played by Penn aka @penn-name​ and she is doing her best.Sieron Astora is a human (secretly half-orc) wizard played by Jorb aka @jorbs-palace​ and he’s basically the protagonist, and also starting to be gay for CharlieCharlie Wickfield is a halfling wild magic sorcerer played by Leos aka us and she’s known for being very chaotic, lighting things on fire, and having a high charisma score but no idea how to articulate anythingThorne is a half-orc warlock played by Solar aka @craftlands​ and he grew up in nonsense land aka the feywild and i love him, and also he’s fine-tuned to be able to snipe the sh*t out of anything within a 600 ft radius of him w/ eldritch blastSilje Cottonwood is a tabaxi blood hunter played by Nyx aka @patheticnyas​ and he is very edgy but also a cat and is VERY gay for Thorneour general goal is to stop some motherf*cker called Halvkar / the God-King from… i dunno, being a huge bitch? he dumped zombies all over Arvus and that’s a problem. its late at night and i just played d&d for several hours

AND SO: WE PLAYED D&D FOR THE FIRST TIME OF THE DECADE

last time:

chunch bunch beat up the cult and now we’re FINALLY GOING TO ARVUS, YALL(also we picked up a cat)(his name is silly. its silje but literally pronounced like “silly”)sieron hatched a child! so like, we have a lil coatl friend nowOH RIGHT SIERON HAS A MOM. sierons mom is herecharlie and sieron attempted to have a gay scene but charlie went off script by being “[internal dial up noises]” when sieron said something really heartwarmingwe’re in fort draavos! and now we’re picking up sidequests and just kinda wanderin around. woo!

NOW, ON EXPLORERS OF ARVUS:

thorne and charlie discuss the morals of necromancy, and also the concept of “[charlie voice] necromancy racism”

EVERYONE IS BONDING WITH CHARLIE TODAY taure gave charlie the rune of wound closure and told her to stay safe and im :keralisweep:

accidentally started a cutscene bc charlie is very loud in a temple, oop. some priests(?) glared at us and walked off and im sure they wont stab us later!ingrid the adorkable friend has been having reoccuring nightmares about a dark figure w/ black robes standing above a bleeding platform high in the air over a swamp and summoning undead, so we’re gonna go hit that up! it MIGHT be like, a vision of the past, but even if so thats still pretty relevantalso there’s a cool half orc lady named undril silvertusk who we’re gonna escort to camp vengeance! she’s awesome

thorne: i was in a dungeon oncecharlie: you got better!thorne: [points] i DID get better!

summer: can i roll to steal the laser gun?michael: if you find the dragon, you can try to steal the laser gun.

solar: guys, we have to protect the lesbians at all costs. and if one of them turns out to be an ancient gold dragon and curses my dick, then so be it

taure: dont worry, i wont let you die.ingrid: …okay :D!

THE HOT SPRINGS EPISODE IS FINALLY HAPPEN sorry thorne. charlie dabbed at a buff tieflingcharlie is too f*cking short for the hot springs. also she’s like 50% hair so she is Dying

time for food! we ran into an adventuring party that is apparently based off one michael was part of in another campaign, and i think the buff tiefling is his? also taure ordered samples of everything and then got Super plastered

thorne rolled really good to infodump hardcore about arvus artifacts and it is cute and id die for himoop michael asked for all our passive perception

omg theres an introduction of a ~mysterious character~ and originally theyre supposed to just sneak off but then michael realized they’d be genuinely interested in thorne’s infodumping so now theyre just Lurking

the opposite of a slow burn is a fast explosion

[everyone gets distracted quoting realtime fandub]

oops taure is depressed! ALSO SHE BROKE UP WITH SIGRA??? charlie is VERY bad at emotional support so she’s just “uhhhhhhhhh”, but thankfully thorne catches her before she faceplants into her potatoesCAN ANY OF US CARRY TAURE??? SHE’S IN FULL ARMOUR AND ALSO PASSED OUT

michael: what do you do with the bottle?summer: eat it

charlie get haircut! WITH SWORDS. her hair is now like midway down her back so its like, a bit shorter than when she first met everybodysilje: do you want this [the hair he cut off]?charlie: UH WHAT WOULD I .. DO WITH IT…silje: …make a rope?charlie: yknow what i might as f*cking well, who knows if id need spare hair

penn: i dont think taure is horny tho!summer: ITS OK, SILJE IS HORNY ENOUGH FOR ALL OF US

michael: Sieron, Str of 10- action heroThorne, str of 14- twink nyx: silly, str of 13- cat solar: i guess thorne is a hunk. michael: thorne is a twunk summer: the t in thorne stands for twunk

taure, extremely drunk and sad: CHARLIE IM SORRY I MADE YOU BURN DOWN THAT LIBRARY(sieron and thorne carried her to bed and she ended up apologising a whole lot about literally everything)

jorb/sieron wants to know if charlie’s hair has any lingering wild magic nonsense!

thorne’s staring out the window! and also discord kept censoring solar when they were trying to say thatTHIS ENTIRE AREA IS WITHIN THORNE’S RANGE.solar: i could shoot someone at the thundering boar tavern [from our tavern]jorb: [as thorne] WRONG TAVERN, IDIOT!

solar called soldier:76 a cornf*cker and it blindsided me so hard

michael: silje cottonwood, dark edgy blood hunter. [flops over on camera] NOTICE MEEEEEEEE

WE’RE NOW MAKING NONSTOP FORT DRAAVOS PUNS. i had to go clean pepper’s litter and when i came back they were STILL GOING

thorne pets silje on accident bc silje ws doing an anime squat on the balcony’s railing and is now having a crisis of “is it appropriate to pet the furry?” AND ALSO SILLY IS VERY SOFT

jorb & michael: [say something cursed]summer: [looking around frantically] I DONT HAVE AN IMPROVISED WEAPONsolar: Allow Me. [brandishes baseball bat on camera]

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The follow up to 2017’s Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, on Nov. 17, 2020 fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons upcoming Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything must indeed possess powerful magic to contain so much stuff in 192 pages — the exact page count of its predecessor according to Jeremy Crawford, principal rules designer of the game. The product of 18 months work the book includes material for Dungeons Masters and players of 5E D&D alike. I had an opportunity to join the press briefing with Crawford and Greg Tito, communications and press relations director for D&D and let me tell you, sitting on this was really exciting. Reading and hearing what players speculated on and wanting to say, “You’re all right! It’s all in the book. All the character options and new stuff you’re guessing about are inside!” So let’s get into Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything.

On the cover for Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything Tasha holds an ornate grimoire covered with symbols from the planes of existence in stunning art by Magali Villeneuve.

A delightful conversation about 5E D&D

No sense burying the lead — all the options and fresh new modular content you thought might be in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything is there. Subclasses for all the classes are in there. Alternate class features from the most popular Unearthed Arcana in the entirety of 5E D&D are in there. The artificer class is in there — including some tweaks, new infusions and the Armorer subclass that was loved by people, according to Crawford. The Aberrant Mind sorcerer, UA’s most highly rated content ever, is in there and so are many from the past year. Spell Versatility and new Beast Master Companions are in there and I know there’s untold numbers of players stoked to hear this. There’s new artwork for the Artillerist Artificer Specialist that was shared during the briefing too.

A human artificer balances his Eldritch Cannon on his shoulder as seen in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. [Art by Brian Valeza]

Like XGtE the book explores the titular character’s wonderfully complex point of view in comments on the content throughout, with nods to Tasha’s history in her comments and captions. One clue about Tasha’s mysterious origin reveals itself on the cover. The tattoo on her cheek is a chicken leg, which Crawford explained is an “echo of the chicken-legged hut that Baba Yaga lives in.”

A bunch of subclasses and class features only chicken scratches the surface of the scope of material. Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything is organized into four chapters. While perusing the material in the book readers learn more about Tasha and the lore surrounding her. Tasha’s life has involved the fantastic since the very beginning of her origins in the fey realms. As she became a brilliant and powerful wizard her adventures took her to other planes and dimensions so she is unfazed by beings of any sort, least of all her frenemy Mordenkainen.

Character options

Spells and magic items

Group patrons

Tools for Dungeon Masters

Customizing your origin is an important part of the development of the book and something the design team seems particularly proud of, for good reason. Players love the idea of more personalized character origin stories. I use This Is Your Life stuff from XGtE all the time and TCoE builds on that tremendously. Like, seriously a lot. The design goal was tools for players to create truly unique characters with amazingly magical origins and backstories.

This includes modifying traits during character creation to better reflect the story players want to tell and offers a lineage template with fill-in-the-blanks tools to totally personalize characters. The Lineage System introduces a new way to approach creating and playing characters and adventures in 5E D&D, a responsibility the design team takes very seriously as stewards of the game. During the press briefing Crawford and Tito explained how TCoE is one of multiple books demonstrating a shift in how D&D handles things like race.

Other changes include the removal of negative racial modifiers for certain races from Volo’s Guide to Monsters via errata. Crawford explained how their original intention for races like kobold and orc was as Monstrous Adventurers, separate from standard character options. This is why those options are included in their own section in VGtM along with options considered more powerful than standard in some cases, like yuan-ti and to a lesser extent goblins. Because this context is lost through the way so many players engage with 5E D&D through online tools and resources like D&D Beyond, it became a pain point for players and TCoE will include updated versions. Hooray for kobold and orc enthusiasts!

The Lineage System offers tools to create characters not bound by a species archetype. I love the way Crawford explained how this modular piece of content interacts with existing 5E D&D material. The core game, what is presented in the Player’s Handbook and other sources, illustrates an archetypal adventuring character like an elf. Choosing this option for your character represents playing Elfie McElferson in other words — the exact kind of elf that comes to mind when you think of D&D elves. The Lineage System gives players and DMs tools to disentangle characters’ personal traits with cultural traits. And worry not! The path to customization is very smooth according to Crawford, who emphasized it is not complicated at all.

Along with the new class options and alternate features players can customize how each class feels. This includes something that worms its way into the mind of every edition of D&D sooner or later.

Psionics! The Aberrant Mind is just one of the psionic themed subclasses from UA. Along with a few others, these psionic subclasses use a modifed version of the playtest mechanics, which Crawford described as “evolved.” I’m pretty middle of the road when it comes to psionics, neither thrilled to use them or abhorred by their inclusion in the game but I’ve got to say I really dug that Psionic Talent die so I hope that’s what he meant.

During the press briefing they did not get too deep into new spells and magic items in TCoE but there are some tidbits to share. For starters Tasha adds new spells of her own design to D&D canon.Tasha’s caustic brewandTasha’s otherworldly guiseare two mentioned and I’m excited to see more. Spells named for the wizards who created them evokes a sense of mystery and wonder in all D&D players and after all her incredible excursions and magical experimentation I’m certain Tasha’s influence on 5E D&D will be immense.

Spellcasters can boost their power with new spell focus magic items too, which sounds awesome. There’s got to be a magical cauldron, right? One of the magic items Crawford talked about sounds totally awesome — the Tarokka Deck. Not like, any old prophetic card deck though. This is THE Tarokka Deck, an artifact capable of trapping spirits. Can I tell you I lost track of what they said for a moment because I was daydreaming about a Ghostbusters inspired 5E D&D campaign.

Sidekicks (remember them?) get expanded in TCoE too. Resources to create your own customized sidekicks sounds like a lot of fun new toys to play with. When asked what the most surprising thing about the book is, Crawford revealed there’s a sidekick class. You can play as a Warrior, Expert or Spellcaster, which offers a slimmed down experience for perhaps new players or those looking for less complexity. This sounds awesome to me. I’ve used the Sidekicks content from UA several times and it is terrific, so more of that and more ways to use it can’t go wrong.

More than that though Crawford was surprised by “how much liberty players have to customize.” The Lineage System, tons of new class options and alternate features, spells, feats (wow I didn’t even mention those!) all combine to create more levers and dials players and DMs can use to tailor our game experiences and tell the kinds of stories we want with exactly the kinds of characters we imagine.

“Our work on the game is a delightful conversation with the community that never ends,” as Crawford put it. With tremendous amounts of fun, cool sounding new content like they’re brewing up in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, I don’t doubt it.

#gallery-0-3 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-3 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-3 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-3 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

A tiefling sorcerer levitates several feet off the ground. [Art by Kieran Yanner]

A lineup of four homunculus servants. [Art by Irina Nordsol]

The young wizard Tasha studies her spellbook in front of Baba Yaga’s hut. Looming nearby is Baba Yaga herself, watching her adopted daughter intently. [Art by Brian Valeza]

This is a massive tome holding secrets of ultimate evil. The exterior of the book reflects the evil within. The covers are made of dark demon scales, which are trimmed in rune-carved metal shaped to look like demonic claws. [Art by David Sladek]

Two wood elf lads swim in a glittering pond, which is fed by a waterfall that pours out of a face carved in a bluff. [Art by Robin Olausson]

A youthful merfolk king lounges on his throne underwater. [Art by Andrew Mar]

Using a psychic spell, a wizard battles a troglodyte underground. [Art by Andrew Mar]

Sidekicks will be expanded in the fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. [Image courtesy Wizards of the Coast]

An alternate cover art version is only available through local game stores. [Art by Wylie Beckert]

A heavy, ominous storm brews at sea as clouds gather. But these are not normal storm clouds. These have formed into a churning mass of enormous skulls in the sky. [Art by Titus Lunter]

Oh! Are you still here? One last thing I’ll mention is the section on Magical Environments includes Eldritch Storms, magical fruits and magical roads, a Mirror Realm and a Mimic Colony. Stay nerdy.

Congrats! That new #DnD stuff you thought would be in Tasha's Cauldron of Everything is in there. #staynerdy The follow up to 2017's Xanathar's Guide to Everything, on Nov. 17, 2020 fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons upcoming…

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Pactborn VI

“You ready to do some treasure hunting today, kiddo?”

K’Sirr’s voice broke Ka’l’s concentration as she stared absentmindedly at a pod of blue whales swimming along the surface of the Rocsanee Ocean, their blowholes spewing water like great geysers.

Ka’l never fully understood the liking K’Sirr had taken to her. Perhaps it had to do with feeling responsible for her after inviting her to join his crew; or maybe it was because she was so much younger than any of his other shipmen; or possibly that he felt a kinship based on their mutual love for sailing; some even speculated that it was because of her relation to a famous admiral of the Felgran Fleet. Whatever the case, it was no surprise to the rest of the crew when Ka’l quickly rose through the ranks. It was even less surprising when K’Sirr - after only seven months aboard the Sea Wolf - invited her along on a Trover quest, a type of hunt for great treasure hoards. Lore of these massive bounties were usually only learned about within the Trovers Guild, a group of pirates whose life’s work was to discover legendary riches and wondrous items.

The young pirate pocketed her compass as she made her way to the side of the ship that housed the utility boats: there, two other Trovers perched on crates, preparing for the dive ahead of them. One of them - a blue dragonborn sorcerer by the name of Zandynn - sat cutting a small reed into pieces in preparation for a ritual spell while the other (Candid, a roguish tiefling) fitted her many daggers into her belt. As K’Sirr arrived on the scene, a lumpy roughspun sack clutched tightly in one hand, he looked expectantly at Ka’l: “Aren’t you missing something?” He smiled a toothy grin as he lifted the weighted bag in his hand, and Ka’l realized that the others also had similar sacks waiting on the deck next to their feet.

“Oh, uh, no, I didn’t think I’d need one - I’m a pretty strong swimmer,” Ka’l stammered, trying her best to speak with confidence.

The three of them chuckled wryly before Zandynn spoke: “Little lady, the way we’re traveling, you won’t need to swim.”

“It’s Ka’l,” K’Sirr corrected him with a sidelong glance, “she prefers Ka’l, so that’s what you can call her.” Zandynn rolled his eyes as he commenced his casting of the ritual spell, and K’Sirr turned his focus back to Ka’l, winking at her as he lifted the lid of a nearby barrel to retrieve one more bag that - as she learned upon inspecting it - was filled with a single large rock. He handed it to her and explained, “You’ll tie this to your waist to keep your body from trying to float back up to the surface.”

Ka’l gave a nod of understanding and began tying off a neat square knot about her mid-drift while Zandynn finished his incantations. She wasn’t expecting the odd sensation of the set of arcane gills that suddenly formed along the sides of her neck as he finished the casting of the spell with a somatic flourish, and it took her a moment to realize that she could still breathe air normally as she ran her fingers over the foreign bodily addition. Her eyes widened as she turned to face Zandynn: “this is amazing!” she gushed, genuinely.

K’Sirr smiled proudly and stepped to the edge of the ship, motioning for the dinghy to be run out for the small group. “With that, I believe we should be ready to depart - Gahjeel, you’re in command while I’m away!” he hollered up to the black tabaxi as he lept gracefully into the small boat. Ka’l and the others followed, and as they rowed out towards some shoals, Ka’l continued to play with her strange new gills.

The two shipmates carried on a lighthearted conversation as Ka’l watched K’Sirr, his eyes pressed shut in concentration as he twirled a forked twig around with his thumb and forefinger, all the while humming a tune under his breath. Ka’l always marveled at the use of magic and was so impressed by K’Sirr and those with whom he associated: she hoped to one day be able to achieve the same arcane wonders these folks were able to accomplish.

Lost in thought over what it must be like to cast such incredible magic, Ka’l jumped a little when K’Sirr declared loudly, “Here! Stop!”

The rare and elusive Necklace of Fireballs: K’Sirr and his crew had been seeking this treasure for the last few months now, since before Ka’l had joined the Sea Wolf. Now, thanks to a reliable tip and a handy divination spell, they were merely a dive away from having it within their grasp.

The others situated their things securely in the small boat as Ka'l dropped the anchor and peered down into the waters below: the shallows afforded her a view of what looked to be large shoals of multicolored coral growing all shapes and sizes. The dinghy began to rock a little, and Ka'l turned to see the others holding their stone-filled bags, ready to take the plunge. Ka'l followed suit, gathering up the rough sack in her arms.

"Are we ready?" K'Sirr asked, making brief eye contact with each member. Nods gave him the affirmation he needed, and he looked at Ka'l with an ornery twinkle in his eye as he patted her on the back. "After you, my dear."

Eager to impress her captain and establish some credibility among her crew, Ka'l scrambled to her feet in the wobbly boat as it swayed unsteadily. Without hesitation, she pulled the stone close to her chest and made an attempt at jumping overboard - this exciting milestone quickly developed into a bit of an embarrassing one though as her toe caught the lip of the dinghy, throwing the boat off-balance (to the gasping surprise of the others) and sending her splashing torso-first against the surface of the water before sinking deeper, her stone having knocked some of the wind from her now-waterbreathing lungs.

As bubbles floated with urgency from her mouth rising rapidly towards the light of day above, Ka'l opened her eyes to behold the beautiful underwater world she had just entered: schools of fish flitted in and out of reef croppings while small crustaceans skimmed the currents for tasty food particles; a neon-colored parrotfish crunched its hard beak down on some faded coral as a eel lunged from within its kelpy hiding place to catch its prey.

Enraptured by this tropical wonderland, she took a moment to explore the tiny reef. It wasn't until she felt something aggressively ram into her followed by a sharp, piercing pain that she realized something was wrong - as the water around her plumed with crimson clouds of her own blood, Ka'l twisted at her hips to find her thigh locked down upon by the jaws of a hungry tiger shark, seemingly drawn by the sound of her loud dive. More bubbles escaped her mouth as she tried to scream for help, flailing violently in an attempt to tear herself free of its razor-sharp teeth. With her hands extended before her, pushing with all her might against the creature's sandpaper-like snout, Ka'l felt a surge of arcane power course through her panicked body.

Something happened in that moment of terror: something Ka’l would ever forget, something that would change her life forever. As she felt her body begin to go into shock, the blood pumping loud within her ears, two golden slitted eyes flashed within her mind, sending her body into overdrive. With her hand pressed against the shark’s face, her eyes shot open again as her hand released an unbridled beam of crackling turquoise energy: as the eldritch blast struck the creature in the face, it sent a shock wave of force rippling through the water between them, swirling the streams of bloodied water billowing through the reef.

The shark - surprised and perturbed - released its hold on Ka’l as it felt itself pushed back a bit from the force; however, this was not enough to frighten it away. With resolved bloodlust, the shark circled back for another attack. Her head still swimming with adrenaline, confusion, and blood loss, Ka’l looked on in absolute horror as the massive beast swam hard in her direction. As the rock tied about her waist began to sink her like a stone, she was able to see the familiar form of her captain standing at the bottom of the shoal’s sandy floor - with one hand extended, she watched as K’Sirr pointed up at the tiger shark and conjured a great sphere of yellow gas right in front of its path. The shark, writhing and reeling as the stinking cloud’s poison assaulted its hypersensitive sense of smell, began thrashing in the water, mingling the red of the blood with the yellow of the gas in a beautiful disaster of brilliant orange for a moment before it turned and swam off at full speed.

Taking the opportunity to act without risk of attack, K’Sirr cut the rope that tethered his weight and swam with haste towards Ka’l. Pulling her into his arms, he pressed his calico hand firmly against her leg, humming a tender ballad as he comforted her. Ka’l felt the warmth return to her body as the wound slowly closed up. As her eyes regained focus, she tried her best to form the words “thank you” through the water.

Pointing to the noxious cloud of stench that was beginning to thin as the sea cycled the current about, K’Sirr did his best to communicate to her that time was of the essence.

Ka’l scanned the watery depths for Zandynn and Candid: she saw them striding towards them, kicking up small bits of sand as they moved. Candid appeared to be sheathing two of her daggers as they walked - it looked as though they had not fully escaped without an encounter of their own.

K’Sirr waved them closer, pulling the forked twig from his pocket and casting his locating spell once more after fetching his weight stone. Like a divining rod moving in response to hidden water, K’Sirr concentrated as his material component began leading him in the direction of his prize. Ka’l and the others followed closely, looking about in all directions out of a well-founded fear for what else might be lurking in the waters around them.

After only a minute, Ka’l noticed that K’Sirr’s pace had quickened as he followed the path bestowed by his spell. Nearly beelining towards an embankment of fuchsia coralline, K’Sirr stashed his component and dropped to all fours, digging in the silty sand at the base of the coral and fan-like seaweeds. Ka’l joined in, shoulder to shoulder with him as she dug. Dirt and soggy debris littered the water around them as they clawed at the loose ground while Candid and Zandynn stood watch like sentinels.

Ka’l felt the contagious excitement of the hunt creep up on her as they scooped more and more sand aside - tossing a glance in his direction, she saw the boyish look of absolute joy on K’Sirr’s face as he dug for the long-awaited treasure. Plunging her cupped hands into the granulated floor with renewed enthusiasm, she felt her nails scrape against something hard and metallic. She paused, her head spinning like a swivel to lock dilated eyes with K’Sirr in unspoken amazement. Sinking their fists deep into the sand, they groped about to find a pair of round anchor-chainlink handles. With a few struggled heaves, Ka’l helped K’Sirr dislodge the chest from beneath the seafloor.

Stepping forward from his post, Zandynn put his face close to the lock that dangled from the chest, its metal crusty with rust and barnacles, as he spoke a muffled incantation. At the last punctuation of the spell, the padlock slid down, unlocked, as it dangled loose at the front of the chest. Wiggling its corroded loop free, K’Sirr slowly and almost reverently lifted the lid of the iron trunk.

Ka’l had never seen so much gold in all her life.

Candid and Zandynn moved in, discarding the stones from their sacks and replacing them instead with fistfuls of coins, while K’Sirr - unconcerned with the monetary treasure - sifted through the riches for his trophy. Finding the necklace, he held it up to his own chest for a moment as if to mockingly model it to Ka’l as he brimmed with exuberance from ear to ear. He delicately draped the piece of jewelry into his chest pocket (careful not to jostle its eight magma-colored beads too roughly) before reaching back into the iron box to retrieve a single ruby gemstone along with a simple gold chain, its middle links slightly damaged. Pulling two lodestones from his pouch, his wild jade-colored eyes met Ka’l’s as he touched the stones against the chain and the gem, causing them to fuse into one.

With a circular motion of his index finger, K’Sirr had Ka’l turn around so that he could gift her his creation: a beautiful maang tikka which he helped fit to her forehead. Ka’l pawed at the piece of jewelry - she wasn’t usually much for wearing any sort of ornamentation, but she could sense already that this item would hold much sentimental value to her for years to come.

At long last pleased with his find, K’Sirr motioned for the group to wrap up their adventure. Excited to return with her own plunder, Ka’l emptied her bag of its rock as well and quickly shoveled the remaining gold and gemstones into the woven sack. Zandynn and Candid gave her a pat on the back and a sincere thumbs-up as they tied off the openings of their stuffed bags.

With a hard push off the ground and several propelling kicks, Ka’l swam upwards towards the glistening fractal rays of sunlight; and for the first time since joining the crew, she finally felt like she belonged.

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Sorry for the delay in posting: I had a terrible case of the flu last week and just COULDN’T.

If you enjoyed this chapter of Ka’l Bahriin’s story, please be sure to read the previous five chapters of her series, Pactborn.

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