#and is somehow the most terrifying party member in combat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs | Tumgik (2025)

Banner art for my partner's D&D campaign, titled the Neon Mosaic!

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Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is somehow simultaneously both the game I’m most excited for next year and yet I also can’t remember the last time I was so anxious for a new release.

For context. I love Final Fantasy VII. It’s my second favourite game in the series. I played it in 2019 with no nostalgia and was stunned at how well it holds up. Its story is a compelling ride that’s still painfully relevant to this day. The characters are loveable and multi fascinated. The combat is simple while having enough nuance to sink your teeth into and the world is a joy to explore. It’s an iconic game but one that earns every bit of its reputation.

You know what I also loved? Final Fantasy VII Remake. It brought the world and characters I adored to life in a new way that captivated me all over again. It has some of my favourite combat in the series, and it visually captured the original better than I could have hoped. Even the controversial ending pivot was something I could respect for what it was saying on a meta level about the need for VII to evolve in order to keep discussion of it alive. But that new direction demands that what comes after has to be a worthy complement to what VII originally did. And now that Rebirth’s getting closer, we’re soon gonna get our answer about that.

And that’s the thing. On many counts, Final Fantasy VII Rebirth looks amazing. The pivot to an open world looks promising (I know that the devs citing Horizon as a source has got some folks worried it’s gonna go full Ubisoft in terms of open design but I’n cautiously optimistic that the exploration will be good). Every change to the combat in terms of new abilities, mechanics and party members feel smartly chosen to make for a smoother experience. Every scene they’ve shown in trailers promises to lovingly re imagine and expand so many phenomenal parts of the original. Red XIII’s self reflection at Cosmo Canyon, Barret’s symbolically facing his darkest impulses through Dyne at Corel. The entire Nibelheim incident with a PLAYABLE Sephiroth, letting us experience the terrifying gap in power between him and Cloud through the gameplay? I really couldn’t ask for more.

But that’s not all there is to this is there? Following on from Remake’s ending we now have an alternate timeline with Zack Fair, having survived the events of his tragic death, looking for Aerith. And on some levels, this could actually be really cool. The trailers imply that Biggs apparent survival also only happened in this other timeline. Our Biggs, Wedge and Jessie (that Remake did such a good job expanding and making us cry over) are still gone. And this other Biggs has been hardened by those experiences. That’s interesting and allows him to develop without undoing that fantastic death scene that Remake gave him. There is promising stuff here. It promises to be a legitimately NEW vision to complement the original without undermining its themes (and I want you to keep that in mind for what I say next).

And yet there is a troubling vision looming in the back of my head. And that vision is The Compilation of Final Fantasy VII.

I do not like the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII. I think it’s drab, baffling, incoherent mess that fundamentally does not understand the source material. And that’s odd because it’s made by many of the same people who made VII so legendary. There’s a tendency for uninformed, uncharitable takes to paint Tetsuya Nomura as a hack who went from character designer to creative lead and promptly butchered VII according to his whims the second Hironobu Sakaguchi stepped back. But all it takes is a cursory glance at the dev history to see that’s not the case. Many of the most applauded aspects of VII are things Nomura either suggested or helped with. Say what you will about Kingdom Hearts or the shudders …The Third Birthday. But Nomura does have a strong eye for game direction and ludonarrative. Many of the creatives on the Compilation have done sterling work elsewhere…

Which makes it all the more baffling that it’s so terrible.

Advent Children is an aimless collection of admittedly cool action scenes that also entirely misunderstands what VII did so well thematically. An attempt is made to continue its themes of grief and the cycle of life by effectively giving Cloud PTSD. But the execution is so one note and heavy handed that it only comes off as forced, and fails to do a character as nuanced as Cloud any justice. It doesn’t feel like a meaningful expansion of his character. It feels like it’s regressing him so he can learn the same lesson again. Which would be easier to stomach if it was done in the service of a realistic portrayal of depression, but it’s really not. When your depiction of these issues is so flat and cartoonishly one dimensional, maybe you just don’t have as much to say about grief and trauma as you think you do. Sure, the old 2000s critique that AC is bad because it’s ‘emo’ is surface level and bad faith. But that doesn’t make the movie any less shallow or badly written.

Crisis Core does admittedly do a wonderful job expanding on the character of Zack Fair to make for one of the series most loveable protagonists. But it’s also a 101 in bad prequel writing. A story dedicated to over explaining and cheapening the world and characters of the original. All in a bid to make room for a string of uninteresting, shallow new characters that are placed on an absurdly high level of importance in the lore at the cost of everyone else (please tell me whose idea it was to rob Sephiroth of all agency in his own downfall by having him be manipulated by Gackt’s OC?). All capped off with a faux intellectual, badly translated script that, for all its words, has so little to say compared to the original.

And the less said about Dirge of Cerberus or On the Way to a Smile, the better.

I’m worried that this is making me sound like some bitter purist. I don’t think Nomura or Nojima ‘ruined FFVII’ much as people love to parrot that. But I do think when these continuations chiefly exist because executives are breathing down their necks to milk the giant cow, even good creatives are going to make lesser art. And even then there are signs of ambition in the spin offs. But they’re tainted by a lack of restraint, and often compromise what worked about the original. Sometimes I could see what they were going for, but that didn’t make VII’s world and characters feel any less bastardised. Which is why I want to stress how much I loved Remake. It did have that tight execution and understanding of the original and its characters that the spin offs lacked. Hell I was even excited for the new potential of its ending.

But now a few years on, I have to wonder. How much of it is actually going to be ‘new’? And how much is just going to be dredging up the series’ old mistakes? The DLC for VII rounded off by reintroducing Nero, an antagonist from the much maligned Dirge of Cerberus, making him a canonical part of Yuffie’s story. 2022 saw the release of a remaster of Crisis Core shortly before marketing for Rebirth showed off Zack’s parallel story throughout the game. It is thus heavily implied that you should play Crisis Core Reunion, because this stuff is going to matter to Rebirth. And it was recently announced that Advent Children Complete is returning to Japanese theatres for the first time in years. The movie that so fundamentally damaged the perception of what FFVII is, is not so subtly being presented as being very important to whatever comes next. And that’s to say nothing of how Sephiroth’s portrayal in the Remake so far matches up scarily well with the novels’ revelations that he and Aerith are actually still alive in the Lifestream and can technically come back whenever they want (a retcon that actively makes my blood boil for how little it understands ANYTHING about VII for the sake of fanservice).

I mean…is this it? Is this all the ‘new story’ we have to look forward to? The same mystery box sequel baiting that dogs the later Kingdom Hearts games, and a bunch of heavy handed fanservice for all the worst excesses of the Compilation? Honestly, Remake was actually really good about how it used the Compilation. Carefully and selectively and threading in minor characters, worldbuilding details and homages so they fit more organically into VII’s world. It really felt like Square Enix had done through a wildly experimental phase, learned what worked and what didn’t, and were now exercising an ambitious but controlled hand. But maybe we’re sliding right back into that excess and schlock.

Back when Remake came out, I remember seeing many comparisons to the Rebuild of Evangelion movies. But now I’m wondering. What if this isn’t a deeply personal meta-textual commentary on how the creators’ relationship with their art has changed? What if it’s just a multiverse punch up filled with fanservice for a bunch of mediocre spin offs from the 2000s that people are apparently nostalgic for? Is Zack actually back because the writers think he would meaningfully enhance the story? Or is he back because they know how popular Zack is and know fans would eat up a potential reunion between him, Cloud and Aerith, no matter how little sense it makes?

But that’s also where I can breathe a little bit of a sigh of relief. Because a lot of my worries are still just ‘what ifs’. At the end of the day, what we have so far is a great remake of a classic, which has a highly promising sequel on the way. And I’m excited as hell to play it. And yet I can’t deny the uncertainty makes me uneasy. This trilogy of reimaginings has so much promise and potential. And I hope it doesn’t opt for shock value and fan service to appeal to the lowest common denominator. It’s from many of the same minds who made VII so special, but many of those same minds have proven they can also miss the mark of what they previously got so right. VII is a powerful story of identity, environmentalism, the nature of death and self reflection. It’s a scathing critique of capitalistic greed and our lack of respect for the planet. While also being a hopeful story of love and self betterment, that tells us the people we lose are in some small way still with us, as long as we remain in harmony with the natural world around us. If the Remake isn’t going to fully recreate that story for a new audience, then I hope at least that it’s got something equally worthwhile to say that can stand alongside it. But only time will tell.

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Just Say It // N.R

Warning(s): cursing, brief mentions of blood & gore, angst w/ a happy ending, long post

You were an anomaly to the team, mostly when it pertained to your abilities and their usage.

When working, rarely was it around the rest of the group. Rather, you’d be sent in after missions for reasons undisclosed to them, or sent alone altogether. If you were along with the team for a mission, it was hard to even entice you to speak.

The team wasn’t complaining about your presence tho, they were rather relieved you’d been around most of the time. Your proficiency in hand to hand combat rivaled that of Natasha’s, so you weren’t a hinderance to their mission, wether with them or away.

But another issue that cloaked you in mystery, was the fact you didn’t live at the compound like the rest of them, and rarely showed to any functions, events, or parties. Tony always extended an olive branch, yet you always denied him with a soft shake of your head.

Somehow, throughout your silent treatment, you got along well with two members of the team in particular.

Wanda was one of them, if outwardly appearance showed correctly. Anytime you were around, whether it be pre-mission planning or taking up space in the common room, you had always had an affliction to Wanda.

You’d sit down next to her with the warm smile you seemed to always bare, and she’d go on to tell you her activities that had transpired the past week. Sometimes she’d discuss her interests, and tried to prod at your own, but you only brushed her off with a wave of your hand.

Next was Natasha, although you were not as friendly to her as much as you were with Wanda. You’d always spar with her, and somehow give her a worthy opponent every time. With your soft smile, and kind eyes, you always lifted her off the mat after putting her on her ass.

And when you both weren’t sparring, you’d sit across the couch from her as she rewatched some spy movie for the millionth time. You never spoke up, and you never ruined the silence that always seemed to befall you both. In the beginning, Natasha felt uncomfortable about your silent presence, but now it had grown to be a constant. The movies never felt the same without you.

It made her wonder what Clint found so terrifying about you.

Clint always paled in your presence, and outright refused missions when you were involved. He’d go so far as to make his exit known whenever you arrived in the same room, and you looked almost sad to see him leave every time.

Natasha asked about it one night, turning the volume down on the TV in hopes that, maybe, you’d speak to her this one time. But you only shook your head, and the apologetic smile upon your face didn’t meet your eyes. You looked sad, and Natasha swore she watched tears well up in your eyes. She felt bad for even asking.

You had been scarce around the compound after that, much more than you were before. You did not linger after missions, and you no longer trained with the team. You’d give them a smile that never reached your eyes, then made your leave every time you had come into contact with them.

The next time Natasha had been around you was relieving, but questionable, considering the rather classified mission Fury had conscripted you both to do.

You both sat in the briefing room, minus the rest of the team, as Director Fury discussed your next mission. It was a recovery mission of a rather dangerous asset, and Fury was adamant on the retrieval of said asset be as easy as possible.

Quirking a brow in Natasha’s direction, Fury seemed to pick up on the question that hid within your gaze.

“She’s only a precautionary measure to ensure the safety of yourself, and the asset.” He said, and you were quick to push yourself from your chair. The stony glare on your face showed that you were not happy with this idea, and Natasha felt offended at the change in your demeanor.

“I know you work alone.” Fury said, not daunted by your uncharacteristic outburst. “But I assure you, she’s there if anything goes south. If the asset steps out of line in anyway, she will prioritize your safety over anything else.”

Fury seemed to turn to Natasha in a silent plea for support, but you were having none of it.

I do not need a guard dog. You signed aggressively, and Natasha was almost shocked to see you communicate with anyone so openly. You’d never signed to the team, and hadn’t even shown any indication that you even knew how.

Another issue came with the fact Natasha had no idea what you were signing to Fury. She had a basic knowledge of sign from what Clint had taught her, but nothing as advanced as you were using.

She almost felt left out of this squabble between you, and the Director.

“She will wear ear plugs throughout the duration of the mission.” Fury said, rubbing his temples to show his growing frustration. “Does that make you happy?”

You aggressively pushed the chair you had been occupying under the table, before slamming the door of the briefing room as you walked out.

“Is she that upset that I’m joining her on the mission?” Natasha spoke up a few moments after they had both been staring at the door in silence.

Fury sighed.

“If she was that upset about you joining her, she would’ve said it.” He said, before pointing toward the door. “Now go get your shit ready for the mission, you’re leaving now.”

—

The entire ride to the extraction point of the asset was silent, and you barely even acknowledged Natasha’s presence besides a few glances from the corner of your eye.

You were obviously upset from the way you kept sighing every time you looked at her, or the hunched way you sat in the copilot seat on the quinjet.

Natasha desperately wanted to discuss what happened in the briefing room, but the ear plugs within her ears caused every sound around her to be silent. Not even the quinjet could be heard, and it was almost unnerving.

She knew better than to question Fury on a precaution like ear protection, but it still left her with questions. What was so worth losing one of her greatest senses for? Why did you not have to wear them?

Finally, the jet landed in an open lot with various warehouses lining the perimeter.

Seemingly knowing the exact one the asset was within, you waved Natasha in the direction you had began walking toward. She followed at a slower pace, allowing herself to gain situational awareness with her vision, rather than relying on her hearing, or lack thereof.

Approaching the warehouse, Natasha noticed blood covering almost the entirety of the concrete floor and littered with corpses. She recognized the uniforms upon the mutilated bodies, and realized they were belonging to SHEILD agents.

Her hand moved to the gun holstered upon her thigh, but you caught her wrist to stop her. You shook your head, before trudging deeper in the darkness of the warehouse.

As both your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, there was a girl standing alone among the bodies. Like a grotesque centerpiece to the carnage.

The girl noticed your presence but before she could advance on your position, you opened your mouth to speak, causing the girl to stop in her tracks.

Natasha could not hear a single word coming from your mouth, and couldn’t exactly read your lips from standing next to you, but she knew you were speaking. It was daunting to see such a thing, and it seemed so out of character.

What the hell was going on?

You approached the girl, and when Natasha moved to follow, your jutted out your palm as an indication for her to stay behind. She felt uneasy about it, but listened to your instruction.

You continued to speak to the girl as you approached, if your jaw moving was any indication as Natasha was forced to stare at your back.

Minutes ticked by that felt like hours as your approached the mutant girl, and once you were within arms reach of her, the girl seemed to collapse into your arms. You hoisted up her unconscious form easily, and began to make your way back to the jet.

Even as Natasha piloted the quinjet back to the compound, the uneasy feeling had yet to leave her gut.

—

Upon returning, the recovered mutant asset was met with armored SHEILD agents anticipating her arrival. They took her unconscious body from your grasp before restraining her in a multitude of ways, and you watched from the jet as the carted her away.

Once the asset was out of sight with her cavalry of agents, Natasha was quick to rip the plugs from her ears. You turned to her with that warm smile upon your face again, but it fell the moment you noticed how tense she had become.

“What the hell was that?” Natasha said, and you seemed bewildered as you held up your hands in silent defense. She quickly slapped your hands down. “Don’t give me that, I know you can speak.”

You took a defensive step back, and your eyes glanced toward the door into the compound. The cogs of your brain started to turn, and Natasha noticed you were thinking of making a break for it. She then took a step to the left, ultimately blocking your exit.

You glared at her.

“Are you not going to answer me?” Natasha said, her tone still aggressive. She realized frustration began to tense at your muscles too, and she decided to see how far she could push this until your resolve for silence finally broke.

“Why is that murderous girl so worthy of you to speak to her, but not even the team? Not even me?” She spoke. Your frustrated glare turned questionable when you had realized her words, until you remembered you were upset with her sudden outburst, and your gaze became hostile again.

Your eyes were still glancing toward the door, calculating your possible escape even as she grew more aggressive toward you. Natasha realized she was going to have to push your frustration harder as she stepped into your personal space, practically chest to chest with you now.

“Seriously?” Natasha scoffed. She noticed the muscles of your jaw begin to tighten, but you made no effort to regain your personal space. Your eyes screwed shut, and you refused to even look at her anymore as she continued to assault you with questions.

“Did you think I was just going to let this go?” Natasha continued to chastise you, and you shook your head as your eyes remained shut. “Why have you never spoke to us?”

Your lips twitched, and Natasha froze as she watched you. She was hoping to hear you say something, but realized she had pressed you too far the moment she noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks.

Using her shoulder to shove her away, you retreated toward the doorway as you aggressively wiped the tears from your eyes.

Natasha watched the door slam shut behind you once again, and she felt guilt replace that uneasy feeling inside her. She realizes now she shouldn’t have chastised you as hard as she did, considering your desperation to even try to speak to her.

Then, without a sound Clint approached from behind her as she watched your retreat.

“She’s as silent as ever, I see.” Clint said, with a slight resentment in his tone, and his sudden presence caused Natasha to jump. He glanced her over, with a question on his brow. “She mess’ you up that bad?”

“What is that suppose to mean?” Natasha said, but Clint didn’t fail to notice her grow defensive once again.

“You mean to tell me she didn’t speak to you?” He asked, and now Natasha was growing confused all over again. “That’s not what that whole ordeal was about?”

“Great. Now you’re both being cryptic.” Natasha sighed, with a roll of her eyes. She shook her head, before sighing. “Why do you even despise her so much?”

“I don’t despise her.” Clint said, in a matter of fact tone that furthered Natasha’s sour mood. “I actually owe her our friendship, but it cost the friendship I had with her.”

“If you’re going to keep speaking in riddles, you might as well just shut up.”

“Natasha, I was going to kill you.” Clint said, with a heavy sigh as if the weight of that mission still sat upon his shoulders. “She’s the reason I didn’t release the arrow.”

—

He remembered the mission briefing, and how hesitant you had been to even participate in such an endeavor. Clint could see it on your face, especially when you glanced his way to see if he agreed with your uncertainties.

“Clint will deliver the killing blow.” Fury spoke, and you cringed at the idea. You were always the passive one in the friendship between you, and Clint. “And if he somehow misses-”

You raised a hand to stop Fury’s tangent, already knowing where it was going to go.

Even after the briefing was over you remained behind in silence, even as Fury had vacated the room. Clint stared at you in silence, and you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“You don’t think we should do it.” Clint’s voice filled the air, and you sighed even hearing such words spoke aloud.

This is not right. You signed, and it was his turn to sigh.

“She’s dangerous.”

She’s a victim.

“We don’t know her intentions.”

Why not help her?

“Let’s just go, perform the mission, and leave it behind us.” He groaned, and rubbed his hand across his face. “That’s all we can do.”

Weeks passed from such conversation between you, and your closest friend. And now, you both sat atop a roof within a city you couldn’t pronounce to track the target you had been searching for.

She had only moved below the cover of night, and her head swiveled around herself as she walked through the alleyway. Clint pulled the string of his bow taught as he trained his aim upon her back, he released a steady breath in preparation to release the arrow.

That was, until you spoke up.

“Don’t shoot.” You said calmly, barely loud enough for him to hear you.

Clint’s body began to tingle with a warm feeling prickling at his skin, opposing the harsh cold air of the night upon the rooftop. He turned toward you with an absolute look of betrayal upon his face.

His body worked against every plea he had to complete the mission assigned to both of you, to release the arrow within his hand. But rather, Clint replaced the arrow within his quiver.

“Stop!” Clint plead, but his body made no effort to oppose your words. “She’s dangerous, we can’t allow her to live.”

“Look at her.” You said, and his head snapped in her direction. “She’s not much different from a scared kid.”

“More like a cornered animal.”

“Either way, I think she’d be a good agent for SHIELD.” You said, and he grit his teeth at the words he knew were about to leave your mouth. With a look of sympathy, you spoke again. “Go recruit her.”

Clint grit his teeth in attempted defiance, before his body forced himself to perform your words. You watched as he approached the red headed woman in the alleyway below, before turning away to make your way toward the extraction point.

You were happy to see Clint arrive awhile after you, with the red head in tow.

During the debrief of the mission, Fury was beyond furious with both of your performances during the mission, although you took all the blame. You had betrayed Clint’s trust, and had gone off mission with an unauthorized use of your power against a fellow agent.

You were lucky that the only thing destroyed after the mission was your close friendship with Clint, considering Fury had half a mind to toss you into a super human prison for your insubordination. The only thing riding on your freedom was the possibility that Natasha might become a true asset to SHIELD.

—

“If you betrayed the agency, she was going to be sent to a maximum security prison for life.” Clint said in summary of his story, with a heavy sigh. “She risked everything.”

Natasha shook her head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the story shared. “Why’d you listen if you were so adamant on killing me?”

“You don’t get it do you?” Clint said, with confusion creasing his brow. “She has the power of absolute suggestion. Everything she says has to be enacted out by anyone who hears, no matter the circumstance.”

Everything that conspired had suddenly began to make more, and more sense. Like your oath of silence, and Fury mentioning you would’ve said that you didn’t want Natasha to join you.

Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to chase after you flooded within Natasha. She quickly apologized to Clint, before rushing through the door she saw you escape to only awhile ago.

“Where is she?” Natasha asked the few teammates within the common room. Wanda hadn’t even looked up from the book in her lap, but rather just lifted a hand to point down the hallway behind her. She could hear Natasha’s rushed footsteps fade as she continued to chase after you.

Finally, Natasha was able to see your retreating form down the hallway, and her steps began to pick up.

“Wait!” She called out to you, fearing that you were once again going to run away from the questions, from the team, from her.

Much to her surprise, you stopped before turning her way. There were still tear tracks stained across your cheeks, and Natasha suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty. You had risked everything to allow Natasha to be here, a part of the greatest team of superheroes to exist, and as payment she had left you crying.

Rather than speaking, Natasha simply rushed forward to wrap you within a hug. You seemed overwhelmed by the sudden display of affection from the usually bristly assassin, and wondered just where this uncharacteristic outburst had come from.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled into your shoulder, and she felt you tense under her grasp. Pulling away, Natasha placed her hands upon our cheeks to wipe away the aftermath of your crying.

You continued to stare at her in confusion, before shaking your head as much as you were able as a silent way to tell her don’t be.

“I am.” Natasha pleaded with you. She felt tears prick at her eyes, as the feelings bubbling within her began to grow overwhelming. Leaning forward, she placed her forehead against your own as she closed her eyes.

“You we’re the only person who believed in me, who thought I deserved a second chance.” Natasha said, her voice wavering as she willed herself not to sob. “You risked everything, and looking back, even I think that was a stupid decision! I was a loaded gun just waiting for the perfect opportunity to go off, and we both would’ve faced the consequences of those actions.”

You looked at her, and if she opened her eyes, she’d see the soft smile that sat upon your face. You had begun crying with her, and she continued to rant about you.

“Why?” She asked you before a sob ripped through her chest. “What made you look at me, and think I deserved mercy? I was cold blooded, and ruthless.”

Rather than waiting for her to finish her rant, you silenced her yourself as you leaned against her to place a gentle kiss upon her lips. You sighed into the kiss, and you felt her tension melt into you.

Pulling away from you, she shook her head as fresh tears began to fall down her cheeks. You reached up to wipe them away, before tucking a stray red lock behind her ear.

“Because I love you, Natasha Romanoff.”

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Well that happened.

B!dbwm 2020

Day 6: Meeting the Justice League

Marinette paced in her bedroom in Wayne Manor, running her hands through her hair as Damian laid on her bed and played animal crossing while completely ignoring her freakout.

“Dami, how did I get myself into this mess?!” she asked, frantically pulling at her pigtails. Her brother snorted, rolling his eyes unsympathetically.

“You never use your brain until after you’ve already made important decisions,” he responded ruthlessly. “All of your mental capacity goes towards planning out completely inane things like birthday parties and actually caring about what our even more idiotic class thinks about you, so when you actually need it you don’t have any intelligence left to spare.”

Marinette turned her eyes on him, the blue lightening to an icy color in her panicked annoyance as she glared at him. “Gee, thanks. I can always trust my darling brother to have my back,” she said sarcastically, to which Damian only smirked.

“When it matters? Of course. But in this case, watching the fallout will be entertaining and not at all dangerous to your physical safety.”

Damian and Marinette had been sent to live in Paris a few years back, about a year after Damian had come back to life. Marinette had been far too attached to the twin she had thought she had lost for good, and had nearly driven him crazy with how overprotective she had gotten. Right alongside that, Damian had started to become even more stifled by Bruce’s own protectiveness and distrust of him, so he quit being Robin and they were sent to PAris to try and “recover” from their “trauma” somewhere “safe and peaceful, under the jurisdiction of the JLE.”

Yeah, that was a great idea. Up until they found out the hard way that the JLE had up and abandoned the Paris headquarters and taken up unofficial residence in England somewhere. And then Hawkmoth showed up. And of course, of fucking course, an old chinese man from the pacifistic organization that acted as a direct foil to the League where they grew up somehow decided that they, out of everyone in Paris, were the best people he could find to wield the power of tiny gods to save the city.

Sure, he was right, but Damian chewed him a new asshole as soon they met for trusting complete unvetted strangers with the gods of creation and destruction.

And now Marinette had finally managed to leak to Tim, who then spread the calculated slip of information to Bruce, that Paris had had a supervillain for the past few years and the JLE had been neglecting their jobs. Which turned into Batman setting up a meeting with Ladybug and Chat Noir (Damian had tried to tell everyone his name was Chance Noir, Dark Luck, NOT ‘chat noir,’ since the last thing he needed was to be associated with Selina in any way. Nobody listened, and now he was stuck with being called Chat Noir). They had a lovely discussion about all the shit Hawkmoth did, their lack of resources, and the lack of assistance/straight up refusal to believe their word that came from the JLE.

Which led to Batman inviting Ladybug to meet the Justice League to debrief on the Paris situation. Damian had been invited as Chat Noir, but had taken the smart path and opted out. Now Marinette had to not only go to the Justice League as Ladybug, but also as Batman's daughter Hummingbird, who was being brought in for consultation along with Damian as Robin.

“I’m gonna die again,” Marinette continued her catastrophizing, Tikki and Plagg sharing a glance at once another from their spot on her writing desk. “I’m gonna die of total embarrassment. Don’t bother resurrecting me Dami, I’m just gonna die all over again once Dad finds out who we are and kills me.”

Damian snorted. “Hah. Father killing anything, good one,” he snarked back blandly. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re the planner and I’m the one with actual skill. You have the strangest ability when it comes to getting out of situations like these by the skin of your teeth,” Damian grinned at something on the screen of his Switch before continuing. “You’ll be fine. And if you sell me out, I’ll bury you myself.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wanted their dad to find out that they were LAdybug and Chat noir, especially since they had already explained to him the basics of the source of their powers. They were both certain that Bruce would completely ignore how well they had been handling the situation on their own for almost five years and jump straight to the “my murderous children should not be left with the powers of destruction and creation at their fingertips,” line of thought. Bruce had never trusted them alone before, why now?

“At least help me, shaqiq?” Marinette asked, walking over and plopping onto the ground next to her bed, so she could look straight into her twin’s bright green eyes. At first, he refused to even look at her, completely unmoved. Marinette hummed mischievously, a habit that was the source of her Gotham codename. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Damian finally huffed, scowling. “Fine.”

He knew better than to doubt her. Marinette always got her way when she decided she was wronged and needed to even the score for something. Always.

—* — * — * — * — *

Hummingbird. The smallest Bat, by far, and the fastest when it came to natural speed. Hard to spot, with the sole giveaway that a short playful hum could be heard if she thought she had her prey cornered. She was hardly ever wrong.

She had also been temporarily retired as she and Robin moved to some undisclosed location to get away from the vigilante life for a while. Or so Batman said. And for the most part, aside from the occasional League gathering here or glimpse that they got of the two’s civilian personas if someone visited the manor while they were there, Robin and Hummingbird stayed retired. Heroes who knew them wondered if Robin had finally given up and settled down somehow, if he was even capable of it. And they all speculated that Hummingbird was so scarred from Robin’s death that she wouldn't ever be able to leave his side again, retired or not.

Seeing Hummingbird in her navy blue and black uniform, almost identical to her brother’s but for the thick navy blue scarf that covered her neck and lower face, everyone in the Justice League who knew her thought they were right. She stood there, older and only a little taller, never leaving Robin’s side as they traded secretive glances and hand signals only they understood. They didn’t make any attempt to stray from one another’s side.

But Jon Kent, superboy and Damian’s oldest friend, was of a different mind. He had been by Marinette’s side after Damian died, and by both of theirs when he was brought back. This was not the same terrified dependence he had seen back then. His eyes narrowed.

The twins were scheming, and nobody else would notice until it was too late.

Quicker than they could blink, he was by their side with his trademark smile. “Hey guys! Long time no see!”

They gave the half-kryptonian identical deadpan expressions, sighing in tandem. “You facetimed us last night. And you flew to Paris to visit us last week,” Damian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Despite us expressly telling you not to.”

Jon shrugged. “If I listened to everything you two said all the time, we’d never have any fun. So, excited to meet this Ladybug girl? Dad says that your dad won’t tell him anything about her until she shows up.”

Hummingbird and Robin traded looks before Marinette answered. “Not really. We see Ladybug in action in Paris all the time—”

“She even saved Marinette from an Akuma who was obsessed with wanting to date her,” Damian interrupted with an insufferable grin. Marinette elbowed him hard, making her brother wince before chuckling at her red face.

“I could have saved myself just fine! It’s not my fault we have to lay low, or we might get kicked out of Paris for being past vigilantes!” Marinette argued, voice high as she protested how helpless Damian had made her sound. She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. Damian’s grin widened into a predatory smirk that showed off teeth.

“Oh? What about that one time that Tsurugi got akumatized, and Chat Noir had to save you because she wanted to duel you for the right to date me and you were cornered?”

Marinette growled, throwing up her hands in frustration before smacking Damian’s shoulder angrily. He only laughed at her. “I’m leaving! Come find me when Ladybug finishes explaining the things we already know!” with that, a fuming and embarrassed Hummingbird stormed out of the room.

“Huh,” Flash remarked, leaning against the wall. “She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. And she actually left your immediate vicinity. Willingly,” he remarked to Robin, who glared at the speedster.

“It’s been almost six years. If you think my sister is weak enough to be that thoroughly encumbered by the past for so long, you are greatly underestimating her,” he looked around to see almost all of the gathered League members staring at him. He grit his teeth and looked over at his father. “When is this woman going to arrive, anyway? You’d think she would actually be on time.”

Just then, a portal opened in the middle of the room and Ladybug walked through. Quickly shedding the brown costume that allowed her to teleport in, she was left in just her black and red-spotted combat suit. Seeing as they finally found out how to alter the costumes the Kwami gave them, Ladybug’s hair now sat in a braided bun on the crown of her head and her costume was made to look more like Nightwing’s with the ladybug symbol on her upper chest and between her shoulder blades on her back, with black gloves that reached up to her elbows and black knee-high boots with red stripes up the sides.

The brightly colored heroine smiled, seeming to light up the room with cheer that nearly put Jon to shame (it took her awhile to perfect that particular smile. She actually based it off Jon himself, and Damian was impressed by how accurate she had been able to make it over time. Not that he would say as much out loud).

That was when Diana started choking on thin air, and Damian and Marinette both realized that they had overlooked something rather major.

Hippolyta had been a Ladybug. Diana had met Tikki. Diana knew how to see past Tikki’s glamour.

At first, Ladybug tried to play it off. Maybe Diana would catch on and help her out. So she walked over, holding her hand out for Wonderwoman to shake and putting on another wide smile for good measure.

“Oh my Kwamii! It is so good to finally meet you, Wonderwoman, Tikki told me so much about you and your mother! Would you like to talk later—”

“Marinette Wayne, how in Zeus’ name did you become the new Ladybug?” Wonderwoman instantly yelled, making Marinette wilt. Damian tried backing away slowly, only for Diana’s eyes to then shoot over to him and narrow dangerously. “And you! I knew I felt something weird, but now I can pinpoint it. You are wielding the Black Cat! One of you explain what is going on. Now.”

Ladybug and Robin instantly looked away, getting ready to make a quick escape right as their father walked up behind Robin, putting a firm hand on his shoulders. As always when Batman smiled, it sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Marinette gulped a little.

“I agree. Marinette, I forgot to tell you that we changed the locations of the League security cameras last night,” shit they were so busted. Bruce must have suspected them of something from the very beginning, stupid world’s greatest detective instincts— “But now that we have confirmed that my suspicions were correct, we can save that discussion for later. First, let’s debrief on the Paris situation like we agreed. Then, you two will explain why you decided not to tell me while you help each other clean the entire Batcave tonight.”

Damian didn’t open his hand for the entire meeting. He and Marinette made eye contact as soon as everyone sat down for a suddenly very uneasy debrief, silently agreeing that they would not let their father take away their Miraculous. They finally had names and reputations of their own, away from the Batclan and their father’s influence. They had learned more about themselves and what they were capable of in those past years as Miraculous wielders than in all the years of the rest of their lives combined. They wouldn’t give it up, not even for Bruce’s approval.

But when they got back to the Manor and began cleaning up the batcave as they had been ordered, they were surprised when Bruce made no mention of taking their jewelry back at all. And he stayed up with them, silently reviewing things on the Batcomputer as they cleaned. It could almost be considered family bonding.

By the time the twins were done cleaning the sun was about to rise, and finally their father spoke up for the first time since they had begun their punishment chore.

“I watched days worth of your Paris battles before going out to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir in person,” he said without ever turning around from his spot at the computer. “I was impressed. I still am. The teamwork was flawless, and the Parisian heroes never used deadly force. They even did their best to provide emotional support to the victims who were akumatized. I thought for sure at least one of you two would have been victims yourself, with all that you’ve been through. Anything can be a trigger for you, anything can make you vulnerable to Hawkmoth,” Bruce paused to take a sip of coffee. He didn’t have to look at his children’s reflections in the face of the Batcomputer to know they were drinking in every word he said. He did anyway, allowing a small smile that they couldn’t see to form on his lips.

“I scoured through every akuma attack one by one, trying to find the one where one or both of you were the ones possessed. But I only found more reasons to be impressed by the heroes instead. By the time I was done looking through every scrap of video I could find, I had a feeling I knew who you were. Hearing your voices in person cemented it further, but I wanted video proof. So, knowing that Marinette would have forgotten about agreeing to accompany me to a JL meeting, I asked Ladybug to debrief us.”

“You had us from the start,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. But Damian said nothing, eyes wide as he picked up on the nuances of what Bruce was saying that Marinette was too tired to catch on to.

“I’m proud of you two.”

Then, even Marinette froze. The twins had identical expressions of shock on their faces, and Bruce finally turned around to look at them properly. For a long while, the three of them only made silent eye contact as dozens of emotions flew through the air silently, but understood. Then Damian and Marinette straightened up just and silently. Damian nodded to his father, Marinette gave him a vulnerable little smile, and then they both backed out and went to head to sleep.

And once they were gone, Bruce sighed in content. Seems his meet-the-Justice-League plan worked out perfectly. He had finally managed to say something right to his two most troublesome children, for the first time. He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dark bat-infested cave ceiling as one more tiny grin played on his face, a little melancholy this time.

Guess they never needed him to help them find their inner hero, after all. They had become even better at the whole hero thing than he was, and all on their own. Bruce closed his eyes, not noticing when Alfred draped a blanket over his body and left the Cave with a soft chuckle.

--*--*--*--*--*

This sucked, but I wanted to give you guys something. So. here you go I guess?

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Fate and Phantasms #31: Medea

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re building the Witch of Deceit Medea in DnD 5e! In this build, Medea’s going to be an Abjuration Wizard to power up her counterspells to act in the place of Rule Breaker. You can restrict your counterspells and dispel magics to melee range if you really want to play to character, but I don’t think I can overstate how much harder you’ll be making it for yourself.

As always, a spreadsheet for the build can be found here, and a level-by-level breakdown can be found below the cut.

Race and Background

As the daughter of King Aeetes, calling Medea a Nobleis actually a bit of an understatement. Regardless, she has proficiency in History and Persuasionbecause of this, which works out great for you. It’s also nice that Medea’s background was so easy to pin down, because her race certainly wasn’t. She’s a human, but with gods in her direct ancestry which would make her an Aasimar, and of course, just look at those ears. In this case, we’re going to make her a High Elf, giving her 60′ of Darkvision, proficiency with Perception, advantage against being charmed with your Fey Ancestry, the ability to Trance instead of sleep, and an extra Cantrip from the wizard spell list. Grab Fire Bolt for some firepower early on. High elves also get +2 to Dexterity and +1 to Intelligence.

Ability Scores

Put your highest score in Intelligence; Medea’s been trained by the best witch in the game, and she’s a quick study. After that is Charisma; she’s the witch of deceit for a reason. Butter up your enemies and sink that dagger into their back. Speaking of daggers, Rule Breaker is a pretty good one, and to make sure it can actually hit its mark, she’ll need some Dexterity. After that is Constitution; she’s not that tough, but she has spent a long time on that dumb boat, so at least she’s learned not to get seasick. Put your second lowest score into Wisdom(she did trust Jason, of all people), and dump StrengthBecause Wizard. Strength is for fools who can’t throw lightning around.

Class Levels

1. We’re starting this build with a level in Wizard. We’re also ending this build with Wizard. It’s Wizard all the way down, is what I’m saying. First level wizards have an Arcane Recovery, letting Medea regain spell slots of fifth level or lower with a combined level of half her level on a short rest, and now that I’ve said level so many times its stopped looking like a word. Wizards also get two skill proficiencies, and Medea’s are Arcana and Religion, because those were the same thing during the age of gods. She also has proficiency in Intelligence and Wisdom saves.

Finally, Wizards get spells. A lot of spells. At first level, they get three Cantrips and six first level spells, and then they get two more spells each level. Because Medea is an actual caster, unlike most of the other servants up to this point, we can get a little freeform with her spell list. I’ll mention all the spells I’d personally give her, but I’ll only be putting the very useful or very in character spells in bold from here on out. For cantrips, grab Lightning Lure, Minor Illusion, and Message. For first level spells, grab Absorb Elements, Mage Armor, Witch Bolt, Magic Missile, Disguise Self, and Burning Hands.

2. At second level, Medea becomes a member of the School of Abjuration, making her an Abjuration Savant (reducing the cost and time to copy abjuration spells by half), and she learns how to make an Arcane Ward, a magical barrier that is created when casting an abjuration spell that will take some hits for her, like some kind of shiny yellow sweater. Medea also learns Alarm and Cause Fear, because sometimes you just don’t want to be bothered.

3. At third level, Medea unlocks second level spells, including Arcane Lock and Detect Thoughts. It’s much easier to scheme when you literally know what everyone’s thinking, so of course that’s what she’ll do.

4. Use Medea’s first ASI to make her into a War Caster. This feat will give her advantage on concentration saves (not useful yet), the ability to perform somatic spells while holding a weapon (very useful for RP reasons in a level), and cast spells as an attack of opportunity instead of hitting the fleeing creature. Magic is Medea’s weapon of choice, and now that’s just a bit more literal.

For spells, grab Dancing Lights, Maximillian’s Earthen Grasp (it’s not quite skeletons bursting out of the ground, but we’re getting there), and Nystul’s Magic Aura. This spell is just really useful for someone who needs to hide out while plotting their revenge. You can hide magical items, prevent your own mind from being read, or even trick paladins into thinking Jason is secretly a fiend. The possibilities are endless.

5. A fifth level, Medea finally gets access to third level spells, including the vaunted Counterspell and Dispel Magic. Technically these two have further ranges than 5′, but if you want to stay in character you better make Medea stab whatever she’s countering first. No guarantees that she’ll survivestaying in character, though.

6. Sixth level Abjuration wizards get a Projected Ward, letting Medea throw her fancy yellow sweater to other party members to protect them as well. Medea can’t target the golden fleece in FGO, but I’d like to think she’s mellowed out in the three years since the game began and got a bit more generous.

She also gets Nondetection for more sneakiness and Animate Dead for some skeletons to throw into the meat grinder that is frontline combat.

7. Seventh level wizards have fourth level spells, and Medea’s grabbing Polymorph(her aunt’s freaking Circe, after all) and Tiny Servant. Miniatures are her passion, and bringing them to life to enact her fantasies of torturing Jason is a totally healthy hobby, don’t worry about it.

8. Medea’s second ASI can get thrown towards her Intelligencefor more spells and a stronger fleece. It turns out smarts are important for a wizard, wild huh?

Grab Banishment and Bestow Curse this level, and have fun coming up with effects to throw at people.

9. Ninth level wizards get fifth level spells. Medea gets Animate Objects for more fun with dolls and Danse Macabre. The danse doesn’t last as long as Animate dead, but you can pull it off mid combat, bringing it closer in line with Medea’s battle animations.

10. At tenth level, abjuration wizards Improvetheir Abjuration, so now Medea adds her proficiency bonus to ability checks caused by abjuration spells like counterspell. Rule Breaker still isn’t at its full potential yet, but it’s getting stronger.

11. Eleventh level wizards gain sixth level spells, and Medea gets Guards and Wards to set up your ultimate workshop and True Seeing.

12. Use Medea’s next ASI to turn her into a Mage Slayer. She can now use her reaction to make a melee attack against creatures casting spells, so if you somehow got your hands on a Rule Breaker in game, she can now use it for its intended purpose. Also, when Medea damages a creature it has disadvantage on its concentration save, and Medea has advantage on saves against spells cast within 5′ of her.

For spells, Medea picks up Chain Lightning, adding electricity to her repetoire, and Fabricateto make figure sculpting a snap.

13. At 13th level, Medea gains access to seventh level spells and grabs Symbol and Teleport.

14. As an abjuration wizard, Medea gets her final subclass bonus at fourteenth level, granting her Spell Resistance. Medea now has advantage on saves against spells, and resists damage from spells as well.

For spells this level, Medea grabs Locate Creature and Dimension Door.

15. At this level Medea accesses eighth level spells and grabs Antipathy/Sympathy and Antimagic Field. Flavorwise, this is Medea going absolutely ham with Rule Breaker, breaking down all magic in 10 feet of her. This is what peak performance looks like. Spells? Gone. Enchantments? Suppressed. Summons? Sayonara.

16. Medea’s next ASI is going to max out her Intelligence for extra spell damage, spell saves, and a fluffier golden fleece. For spells, she grabs Clone and Dominate Person.

17. Medea finally has access to ninth level spells, giving her plenty of magic to play with. At this level she grabs Imprisonment(for when she finally gets a hold of Jason) and Invulnerability.

18. Eighteenth level wizards gain Spell Mastery, letting her cast a 1st and 2nd level spell for free as long as they’re prepared. I’d pick Disguise Self and Nystul’s Magic Aura for extra scheming, but your pick isn’t set in stone, so go with whatever fits your campaign the best. Medea also grabs two new spells, Wish and Create Undead. The latter may be stepping on the toes of Animate Undead a bit, but the added variety may be useful. Or it might not be; again, that’s why the spell’s name isn’t in bold.

19. Medea’s last ASI will make her a Piercer, adding 1 to her dexterity, and giving her extra abilities when using piercing weapons. Once per turn, you can reroll one die if the attack deals piercing damage, and critical hits that deal piercing damage add an extra die.

For spells, grab Forcecage and Power Word Pain.

20. Medea’s capstone level gives her Signature Spells, two 3rd level spells that she can cast once per short rest for free. Of course in this build we’re going with Counterspell and Dispel Magic to maximize Rule Breaker’s uptime. For her final spells, grabSoul Cage and Aganazzar’s Scorcher.

Pros: Medea may be a squishy caster, but thanks to her ward her effective HP pool is bumped up from Wizard to the lofty heights of Bards, and she more or less heals herself with each counterspell she casts. Her focus on abjuration makes her the bane of other wizards’ existences, and because she’s a caster, her spell list is a lot more flexible than previous builds.

Cons: I can’t overstate how badly melee weapons and wizards mix. Also, while you’re terrifying for casters to deal with, counterspell does nothing against barbarians, so pick your fights wisely. Just stay away from any adventuring groups led by Jason, and you should be fine.

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HYPMIC QUEST PART 1: CHAPTER 4 - A Necessary Party Formation

Let’s Dive right in! It’s ‘HypMic Quest - Part 1: Logged In’, heading into the virtual world. This part of the event lasts until the 30th of April 13:59 JST. This final chapter introduces Gentaro and Dice... with a terrifying party member...

JIRO This game’s pretty legit… It feels exactly like reality

SABURO Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t expect it to be this realistic.

JIRO Anyways, aren’t you embarrassed with that weird getup?

SABURO It’s not weird! It’s actually cool as hell!

JIRO Yeah, course a third year in junior high would think that stuff’s cool. Well, I can’t talk when I’m in something like this either…

[ Footsteps ]

DICE Hah… hah… hah… O-Oi… Wait don’t ya think you’ve got way too much luggage?

GENTARO You yapping already? Then, we could log out if you’d like? Even with your character’s debt….

DICE Gentaro! You got any more baggage? I’ll hold it all for ya!

GENTARO That so? Then if you would so kindly take this too please.

[ GENTARO hands more luggage to DICE, watching him fall to his knees ]

DICE Oughhh…

GENTARO So that’s too much for you? Shouldn’t we head back now?

[ DICE suddenly bursts up ]

DICE Ahahahaha! I ain’t no man if I can’t handle this much. I’m totally fine!

GENTARO How fortunate for you. Hm?

JIRO Huh? You guys are Fling Posse’s…

GENTARO Oh? Fancy seeing you here.

DICE Hey! You lot are from Buster Bros!!! right?

SABURO What are you doing here?

GENTARO My my, is it really odd to find someone enjoying a game?

SABURO Well, not really… But this sort of thing doesn’t seem to suit you.

GENTARO Well, I wouldn’t be interested in a thing like this if not for my work.

SABURO Your work?

GENTARO Yes. You see, my next work will focus on Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online games.

SABURO Ah I see. It’s like that.

JIRO Anyway, why you using that guy to hold all your stuff?

GENTARO Oh, something like an amazing part time job for him. Right, Dice?

DICE U-Uhh. It’s not exactly amazing and all, but I guess a job’s a job.

JIRO You can earn money playing a game – that’s pretty sweet.

GENTARO Anyways, we’re off to the plains to do some levelling up. Would you like to join us?

SABURO That so? It would be more efficient to have more people, so is that alright?

GENTARO Well then, let’s go.

JIRO TAKE THIIIIIS!

[ JIRO unleashes his attack ]

SABURO Great Hellfire, heed my command. Infernal flame that returns all to the ashes from whence they came. Purify all sin and transgression as it meets its end. C A S C A D I N G I N F E R N O ! [1]

[ SABURO wipes out the rest of the enemies ]

DICE WOAH, SICK!

[ The system level up sounds ]

SYSTEM Players JIRO, Chuuzenji Saburo, LiarLiar and ARISUGAWA stats increased. New skills obtained. [2]

JIRO ‘Chuuzenji?’ The hell’d you pick that for?

SABURO Chuuzenji is cool!

JIRO I-I see…

GENTARO Well, that’s the veterans for you; you sure know your way around combat and taking down beast with such ease!

JIRO You guys didn’t even do jack!

GENTARO Our classes aren’t suited for battle, which means that we’re resigned to support. We can head on over to a field with more powerful creatures.

DICE Oh, nice call! Let’s head into a real battle already!

SABURO Yeah, easy for you to say for some carouser that can’t even fight… [3]

JIRO [ Thinking ] These guys really just want us to do the hard work for them…

[ The winds shift ]

SABURO W-What was….

[ CRASH! ]

RAMUDA Graaaaaaaa! I’m a DRAGON!!!

JIRO …

SABURO …

DICE …

GENTARO …

RAMUDA Graaaaa! I’m gonna eat you aaall up!!!

GENTARO Ramuda… The hell are you doing…?

RAMUDA Who’s this R a m u d a?? I’m a dragon!

[ DICE whacks RAMUDA ]

DICE The hell you mean dragon?! God!

RAMUDA Ouchie! Dice hit meee!

[ RAMUDA latches onto GENTARO ]

RAMUDA Uwaaaaah! Gentarooo, tell Dice off~!

GENTARO Hah…. Well besides that. Why are you here?

RAMUDA Eh, Gentaro and Dice seemed to be having so much fun leaving me out of this, but I wanted to come and join!

GENTARO And somehow, without us telling you about it, you knew we’d be in this game?

RAMUDA Gee, I wonder how…

[ DICE jumps back ]

DICE Uwa! Ramuda that’s scary! You some kinda stalker?!

RAMUDA How mean! How are you going to call a special someone from your special posse a stalker?

JIRO & SABURO ….

JIRO Let’s go, Saburo…

SABURO Yeah… Let’s…

[ JIRO & SABURO run away from the scene ]

LOOK FORWARD TO NEXT TIME!

- - - - - - - - - -

[1] There are many words. This is the most chuuni thing I have ever seen since Jyushi. Saburo spat in my middle school face. Also, cascading inferno?? That’s the best I could translate any of this. Saburo came for my throat.

[2] Jiro and Arisugawa are written in katakana, so I just left them as caps. Gentaro’s name can be LiarLiar, LyreLiar, LiarLyre or LyreLyre. I don’t know what it could be, but he’s annoying. Saburo has the cringiest chuuni name – something like ‘from within the temple’. Jiro I feel like I know why you turned out like this now.

[3] Carouser… Playboy… Bum. There’s a lotta ways to read this. But the alternative reading is just ‘gambler’. In other words, Dice’s class is just ‘trash, garbage, and lowlife’... You get the gist.

< Chapter 3| Chapter 5 >

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Have you talked about your DnD PCs before? Can you talk about your game on tumblr? What's all been going on last few sessions :o

ANON you are one of my favorite people today this ask made me so freakinghappy. (So is @psychedelicships who said I had an invitation to ramble about my d&d campaign) Sorry for my excited gushing and rambling slkdfjdsklfjskldfj

My D&D Player Character

So my current D&D PC is named Kyssarda. She’s a half-elf neutral-good monk. I’ve rambled about her backstory before but the condensed version is that there’s a pattern of people leaving her/abandoning her in her life. Her parents died in a fire that her older brother rescued her from when she was four. She passed out on the way out, and when she woke up, she’d been told that she’d been left on the doorstep of the temple. Her brother was no where to be found. When she eventually made her way back home, her home was ash. Monks trained her, but they weren’t really equipped to raise a small child, so Kyssarda had a very lonely upbringing. The monks follow Sehanine (d&d deity), so she was raised on the tenants of her teachings and the teachings about following your own path led to her eventually striking out on her own. As a result of her upbringing and past, the people in her life (i.e. the party) are super importantto her, because they are the first friends she ever chose and in some ways, they’ve chosen her too. She has abandonment issues up the wazoo, and hoohas she been reminded of that in recent sessions.

She’s very... empathetic and soft. She pays close attention to the mental/emotional state of her party members. Part of that is just who she is, but a lot of that is informed by her own loneliness. She doesn’t want others to feel like they’re alone, because she knows very intimately how much that can suck. Her loyalty and protectiveness of her friends leads her to sometimes not make the most tactically advantageous decision in combat, and also means that she has basically no self-preservation instincts (which is the main reason I’m pretty sure she’s gonna die before the campaign is over).

Campaign Stuff/Ramblings (under a cut because I’m literally just never going to shut up lets goooo):

So the original party consisted of a Teifling Paladin, a Wood Elf Rogue (who is multiclassing in monk), a Leonin Blood Hunter, and Kyssarda. We met during a fighting tournament and was contracted by the king to retrieve something for him. We teamed up for that, and convinced the king to come along too. So we traveled to some ruins, fought some stuff, and found the relic the king needed. We ran into a Jotenheim giant and fought that. In the process, the Leonin ended up attacking Kyssarda (cuz he’s basically a werewolf lion, and when he goes to his hybrid form and drops below half-health, he has to save on a wisdom saving throw or he just attacks the closest figure which happened to be meeee).

Later on in a different fight in the same place, Kyssarda freaking died thanks to 2 chain lightnings (I took damage while unconcious and then rolled a Nat1 on the death save). But the king we brought along was a cleric who had what was needed for revivify. So Kyssarda came back, with a withered left hand. The Leonin felt responsible for her death because he’d attacked her earlier, and vowed to help her fix her hand.

I forget exactly when, but during this journey, Kyssarda and the Leonin learned that there was a war brewing between two different kingdoms and that the Elf Rogue seemed to have a personal (but vague?) stake in the outcome of that war.

but ON OUR WAY BACK to the city, we got side-tracked with a quest to help a little girl rescue her family. So we also fought a troll and a hag. And when we were getting her family out, we also found (Surprise!!) the estranged (kinda) sister of the Elf Rogue.

This lead to some downtime back at the main city. Kyssarda got her hand fixed at a temple. We got the sister of the Elf Rogue healed up at the same temple. The Leonin had a hilarious and embarrassing fight with a creature I can’t remember the name of. And lots of research was done by all about various things. Kyssarda did the most research, as she grew up working in the library section of the monk monastery so she’s always curious. So she starts looking into things about the war going on, and learns that Mr. Elf Rogue is in fact ROYALTY. He’s a prince of one of the countries at war. And we had learned already that he had fled the city with his siblings but not that he was royalty?? So that was a trip to learn.

Meanwhile, Kyssarda is also helping the Teifling Paladin with some research because he’s been having weird dreams. And while they’re chillin’ in the library, the Paladin finds this book and gets sucked into it. Like. One minute he’s there, one minute he’s not and the book is floating before it closes and slams on the table. So Kyssarda (Ms. Abandonment Issues and also Freshly Traumatized By Havivng Died) panics and takes the book and runs. Our Paladin is still in the book. We sent him a Sending Scroll asking if he was okay and he basically said“Yeah im fine I’ll be back eventually”. Kyssarda also had a nice heart-to-heart with the Elf Rogue about the reemergence of his sister and told him a little about how her own brother abandoned her and encouraged him to just be patient with her (because the sister is not happy with him).

But the show must go on, and our Elf Rogue really wants to get back to his home and help in the war effort somehow, plus find his brother who also is MIA. So Kyssarda, the Leonin, the Royal Elf Rogue, his sister, AND another human PC (a guy who helped sneak the Elf Rogue and his siblings out the city all those years ago and was being played by the guy who used to be the Paladin) all travel out headed towards the Elf Rogue’s homeland.

But we get to the border at a bridge, and the party finds themselves facing down some harpies, some marrows, and a water elemental. In the fight, Kyssarda casts silence to help against the siren song the harpies were singing. Which was mostly a good thing. The water elemental was something else though. It engulfed both Kyssarda and the Elf Rogue, and Kyssarda was down to 1 HP when the Leonin yanked her out. However, because of a REALLY unfortunate roll by the human pc to save from a drop into the river (rolled a 2 and had a minus 2 on the modifier), he was unconcious and drowning. And none of our characters knew because. y’know. Silence. He kept drowning as the fight went on. And he eventually got washed up on some rocks and could make one death save after two failed ones. And he failed. And we had no cleric, and besides... it was more than a minute before we found his body down river.

And all of our characters felt terrible. Kyssarda has a tendency to take blame for things that maybe aren’t strictly her fault, so she definitely feels a weight of responsibility for complicated reasons. The Leonin expressed that he felt some level of responsibility as well, and also hesitation about going forward with the journey though some conversation between Kyssarda and him lead to him continuing on regardless. The Elf Rogue was pretty torn up about it.

We got some Elf Rogue backstory that addresses the fact that he was royalty (which was something Kyssarda had thought about asking) and more explanation of what’s been going on with him and his connection to the land we’re heading towards. We run into a fey creature that was an old ally of the Elf Rogue and Teifling Paladin, and we agreed to help him.

Cue the session last night.

We go to get some stuff of his back from an Incubus/Succubus pair. And sh!t hit the fan. Our Elf Rogue rolled really high stealth and decided that was a fine reason to dive through the broken window. Meanwhile, we were going on this side-quest with a half-orc barbarian (played by the guy that’s usually the paladin and who had the first PC death of the game the session prior). And the Incubus and Succubus can each essentially mind-control people, or try to. And both our barbarian and our Leonin Blood Hunter failed their wisdom save and so our two biggest heavy hitters were mind-controlled by the enemy. THAT went about as well as you’d expect.

Over the course of the fight, the Leonin went unconcious twice. Kyssarda once. The Elf Rogue twice. And the barbarian would have gone unconcious but thanks to relentless endurance, he was brought back to one HP. In fact, we reached a point towards the end where the Leonin, Kyssarda, and the Elf Rogue were all unconcious and our barbarian was the only one standing...at one HP. That’s when the incubus (we’d killed his mate by then) took the Elf Rogue’s sister and made a break for it. The barbarian brought me back first (because I was dying in acid and therefore automatically failing death saves). Then I brought back the Leonin and we got the Elf Rogue up too. We managed to chase down the Incubus and save the sister as well. but HOLE. EE. SH!T. Most terrifying, stressful D&D combat of my LIFE. Kyssarda came very, very close for two rounds to offering herself up as a willing victim/slave/whatever if they’d let her friends go. She didn’t because the tide was starting to turn by then in the fight but it was a ROLLERCOASTER.

Before we closed the session, we went back to that fey guy and got paid though Kyssarda stormed off kind of? She didn’t vibe with the guy because she almost lost her friends over his stupid book and she was shaken and upset. But she had a conversation with the Leonin at the end of the session just kinda... dealing with the trauma of the past few days in-game. It was actually a really nice moment. I think my favorite RP moment for Kyssarda so far.

So yeah! If you read all of this, I’m surprised and touched. Heh. I literally love D&D so freakingmuch, and I’m especially attached to this party and this character... though her lack of self-preservation does have me starting to plan for another back-up character just in case. ^u^

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4 14 29 31 45 52 69 for sweet vic

4:if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be? I’m limiting it to cantrips bc A: that is legit something I have thought about thanks to Feats and B: he currently has Zero magic, baby steps but even then it’s...very tough to pick between the usefulness and the nostalgia. On one hand, Vic learning Spare the Dying would be extremely poetic and fitting, and he’d love to be able to help someone long enough for the real healers to get there. On the other......Dancing Lights was Illy’s most frequently used spell, enough so that Vic still has the verbal component memorized. It’s very utility and it’s very familiar to him and it would be. nice.

(The rest under the cut!)

14:what is something they love about themself? He feels like he is someone people trust easily. Whether as like, watching their backs in a fight or as confidant or just a helping hand wherever he can. He is Reliable. He also does genuinely love the echo abilities. Feels they’ve been well-earned and they just. Feel like a piece of home.

29:who would they save? who would they be saved by? aaahaha is“everyone” an appropriate answer for the first bit, because Vic would like it to be everyone. Specifically, though, his friends, without question. Even more specifically, Nol, without hesitation. (and i know, i know because dnd is evil like that, there will come a day when somehow he has to prioritize who to look after and it will Hurt Me) for the second bit....tbh I think it’s gonna be a tossup of whether Nev or Anthe breaks through his very stubborn defenses first. But once all that inevitably comes crashing down it’s just going to be the party as a whole. Having people around this time who won’t let him bottle everything back up again, people who look after him when he won’t look after himself.

31:they’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? Might start some sort of stream-of-conscious journaling type writing. and then definitely, methodically, ripping it into very tiny pieces.

45:how do they hug people? With every bit of that 18str babey He is realizing how long he went without like. Real affection (not even two years, really, but that is a longtime considering how frequent it was before) and the fact that he has people who will hug him now is just. Very Good. Vic puts a lot into hugs, because he has definitely learned to make that sort of thing count. (Hey fun fact, before that hug with Anthe during KirGate? The last genuine affectionate contact he’d had was uh. Illy. Shortly before. u kno.)

52:from whom do they seek validation? once again, does Everyone count? I mean like. Not everyoneI guess, he really couldn’t care less what people like Thelyss think of him (other than in a“is he going to try to arrest me” sort of way). But also Vic was a youngsoldier selected for a very rare and kind of literally iconic skill training. The echo knights are kept as much a secret as they can be from the Empire, but they’re somewhat revered among the Aurora Watch and he wanted to live up to that so badly. He wants to be good at his work, and maybe that work has changed a little now, but. He still wants to prove (to someone, to everyone, to himself) that he cando his job.

69:how would they describe their party members? what an excellent question, a somewhat incredulous laugh would probably be the first thing, but

Anthe- Absolute little spitfire. She’s small (though he’s met smaller) and has somehow condensed a frankly scary amount of whoopass into that tiny frame, and he lovesit. Also surprisingly...insightful once you get past that. Always watching people, always picking up on things, always asking things, which can be. Fun when directed at him. But Anthe gets it, and she’s always ready with healing or a safe night’s sleep or weird conversations with skeletons.

Nev- Somehow simultaneously the softest and toughest person he’s ever met. She’s absolutely terrifying in combat (which is great for them, not so great for the demons) and so kind and considerate and thoughtful any other time. Nev is the type to just. Check up on people. Offer a listening ear. Offer advice you didn’t even know you needed. Maybe unfamiliar with the specifics of new places but never really comes across as naive? (also doing all this literally blind, which he so often forgets)

Nol- that’s his wizard, folks. His wizard is a bitch and he likes her so much. She is also extremely complicated, has a frankly fucked up history when you get down to it, but the important part is that she is here, now, and seems to be actively trying. Nol is on their side and holy shit is that a good thing for them because she is terrifying. Absolutely terrifying and fascinating magic involved all the time. He would not call her Nice, not in any sense of the word, she is in fact an asshole to most people most of the time, but beyond that is just. She is Nol and nothing is going to happen to her.

P.A.T.- Very....very confusing. Vic didn’t pursue higher education but he’s pretty sure most professors aren’t like this. It’s interesting, someone who was literally created to do one specific job, but it’s also something he feels is beyond his ability to really understand. PAT has some handy moves when it comes to boosting or protecting the others in a fight, and that’s appreciated. PAT also has a very intrusive very creepy little dog that Vic does not trust with personal matters at all.

Raelian- Fast as shit. Like come on, she is faster than he is,she is taking his status as the humanoid blender. There is not bitterness there, really, he legitimately wants to see her fight more, and there’s some martial class solidarity there. There’s also the weird...ghost arms? Which are cool and also very weird. Raelian is someone he’s still working at figuring out, but it is probably a good thing to have someone else who’s into all the book research shit, especially if they need to break that spell.

(and the MIA kids, in shorter bits)

Ziggy- There are Very Complicated feelings around here. A genuine very good friend, and also a friend who just up and left with just a note to explain it. Jhe- She was...confusing. Bizarre. But also weirdly charming. And whatever she was, she did not deserve whatever it was that happened.

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The note jammed onto a windshield in Sweden in March last year was designed to terrify. WE ARE WATCHING YOU, YOU JEWISH SWINE, read the message to a retired professor, written on paper with the logo of the Nordic Resistance Movement, a Swedish neo-Nazi organization.

In the bucolic university town of Lund, with its cobblestone streets and medieval buildings, the threat seemed jarringly out of place. More notes followed. “I was really scared,” says the professor, a small woman of 70, who is too fearful about a further attack to reveal her name in print.

Finally in October, an attacker broke into the professor’s home before dawn and set it alight. By a stroke of luck, the professor was not there. But her living and dining rooms were reduced to ash. So too were the writings of her late mother, detailing her internment in the Nazi concentration camp of Auschwitz. “For the first time in my life I have needed therapy,” she says, over tea in a sunlit café in Lund. “I have not known what to do with my life.”

The professor was targeted because she is Jewish, and in that she is not alone. Anti-Semitism is flourishing worldwide. Attacks on Jews doubled in the U.S. from 2017 to 2018, according to the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) in New York City. That included the shooting in Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life synagogue last October, which killed 11 worshippers.

But the trend is especially pronounced in Europe, the continent where 75 years ago hatred of Jews led to their attempted extermination. The numbers speak plainly in country after country. For each of the past three years, the U.K. has reported the highest number of anti-Semitic incidents ever recorded. In France, with the world’s third biggest Jewish population, government records showed a 74% spike in anti-Semitic acts between 2017 and 2018. And in Germany, anti-Semitic incidents rose more than 19% last year. The findings prompted Germany’s first anti-Semitism commissioner to caution Jews in May about the dangers of wearing kippahs, the traditional skullcaps, in public.

Unsurprisingly, many Jews in Europe feel under assault. In an E.U. poll of European Jews across the Continent, published in January, a full 89% of those surveyed said anti-Semitism had significantly increased over five years. After polling 16,395 Jews in 12 E.U. countries, in a separate survey, the E.U.’s Fundamental Rights Agency concluded that Europe’s Jews were subjected to “a sustained stream of abuse.” With the decade drawing to a close, 38% of those surveyed said they were thinking about emigrating “because they no longer feel safe as Jews,” says the E.U. report.

European officials were stunned at the findings, but perhaps they ought not to have been. A complex web of factors have combined to create this moment in time for one of Europe’s oldest communities. Anti-Semitism has found oxygen among white supremacists on the far right and Israel bashers on the far left. Millions of new immigrants are settling in Europe, many from Muslim countries deeply hostile to Israel and sometimes also Jews. Exacerbated by the Internet’s ability to spread hatred, anti-Jewish feeling is surging in way that experts fear could result in a conflagration, if governments and communities fail effectively to tackle its causes.

...Not waiting for their leaders, communities across Europe have begun to take action themselves. Raised learning about Nazism, many fear what might happen if anti-Semitism is left unchallenged. In recent years, teachers, imams, rabbis and local activists have launched countless initiatives to break stereotypes, educate youth and forge links across religions. In several interviews with TIME, those fighting anti-Semitism caution that it is likely to take many years for their efforts to succeed. Still, they have begun. In Paris, Delphine Horvilleur, a rabbi and author of a recent book on anti-Semitism, says a young Muslim worshipper approached her in her synagogue after she presided over a joint Muslim-Jewish prayer service.

“He told me, ‘I grew up in a family where anti-Semitism was the music in the background,’” she says. Now, she says, “We have to ask ourselves, How can we make sure they have the ability to lower the volume?”

The horrors of World War II shamed the world into acknowledging the evils of anti-Semitism. But exposure did not cure it. Instead, say experts, the hatred simmered for years. “There was a consensus that anti-Semitism should not be voiced openly after World War II,” says Günther Jikeli, a specialist in European anti-Semitism at Indiana University, who is German. “This has gone away with time.”

The growth of the Internet provided new platforms for conspiracy theorists to circulate racist fantasies more broadly. After the financial crisis of 2008, for example, the ADL warned that anti-Semites were spreading lies on message boards that Jews were somehow to blame for the crash. One rumor went that Lehman Brothers, the vaunted U.S. investment bank founded by Jewish immigrants from Europe, had transferred $400 billion to Israeli banks prior to its collapse.

A decade on, those who monitor anti-Semitism believe each attack or conspiracy theory posted online, no matter how small, sets off others. As social media has become an ever greater and yet more unregulated part of our lives, hatred has proliferated. “It used to be that anti-Semitism peaked during times of conflict in the Middle East,” says Katharina von Schnurbein, the European Commission’s first-ever coordinator for combatting anti-Semitism. “Now the incidents remain at their highest level ever recorded.”

...Tensions sporadically erupt in violence. In Sarcelles, a French commune where Jews and Arab immigrants have lived alongside each other for decades, violence erupted during a pro-Palestinian march in 2014. Jewish businesses came under attack by demonstrators, many of them Muslim. Five years on, the Jewish residents of Sarcelles live with armed French soldiers on permanent patrol on their streets, in a measure of the government’s concern about further race riots. “We live with a sense of anxiety,” says René Taïeb, a Jewish community leader, sitting in a kosher café in Sarcelles. “We have a bag packed, ready to go, in the closet.”

But Europe’s most hardcore anti-Semites are arguably on the far right, and they are slowly joining the mainstream, as Europe’s political loyalties have fractured and polarized. In Hungary, the far-right Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s campaign against Hungarian-American billionaire George Soros is regarded as thinly veiled anti-Semitism. And here in Sweden, ostensibly the most liberal country in Europe, a group of far-right extremists has achieved something close to political legitimacy.

...On the opposite end of the political spectrum, anti-Semitism has also flared up. During months of the so-called Yellow Vest protests in France, a handful of demonstrators in the crowd resurrected the stereotype of Jews controlling the levers of power. In February, a group of protesters accosted renowned French philosopher Alain Finkielkraut on a Paris street, screaming, “You are going to hell!” and “Go back to Tel Aviv!”

The problem is not always so overt, however. In the U.K., the opposition Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn has faced fury among some members over his alleged tolerance for anti-Semitism, especially regarding criticism of the Israeli government. The veteran leftist has said the party’s problem stems from a “small number of members and supporters,” and has pledged to stamp it out. But his defense has rung hollow to some. “The party is institutionally anti-Semitic,” says Luciana Berger, a Jewish member of Parliament who quit Labour this year over the issue. Under Corbyn, she tells TIME, “there is more of a permission for it to happen now.”

...Many Jews in Europe say it is not the major incidents but the minor ones that prove how widespread this problem is. They describe anti-Semitism as having seeped into quotidian life, in some ways complicating the effort to tackle the problem. “Unless it is very serious and you are physically attacked, there is a tendency not to call the police,” says Fredrik Sieradzki, spokesman for the Jewish community in Malmo, on Sweden’s southern border with Denmark.

...The more insidious effect is not at all visible: the choice by many Jews to remain discreet about their religious background. In numerous interviews, European Jews tell TIME that they avoid wearing a Star of David, and if they do, they tuck it under their shirts. Many also forgo affixing the traditional miniature prayer scrolls, called mezuzahs, to their doorposts, as many American Jews do, choosing instead to hang them inside. “Parents say to their kids, ‘Don’t tell your friends you are Jewish.’ Jewish teachers are afraid to tell kids they are Jewish,” says Shneur Kesselman, the Chabad-Lubavitch rabbi of Malmo, who moved from his native Detroit in 2004.

Kesselman recently installed bulletproof glass on his office window in Malmo’s synagogue, which dates from 1903. He says Jews have steadily adapted to low-level hostility. “We feel so long as our names are not on a list, we are O.K.,” he says. “There is a danger that we are accepting much too much.”

...Taïeb, the community leader in Sarcelles, says the best form of resistance might be to remind anti-Semites who Jews really are — their neighbors, and fellow citizens. He recalls watching the protest in 2014 spiral into violence and deciding to gather about 100 men to surround the synagogue. Instead of chanting Jewish prayers, as one might have expected, they decided instead to sing “La Marseillaise,” France’s national anthem. “We wanted to make the point that we are French, really French, who happen to be Jewish.”

...Yet, after a long period of feeling paralyzed by fear, the professor says she is finally venturing out. “Every day, I wake up and tell myself to go out and repair myself,” she says. Her home, rebuilt, now has security glass and alarms, far different from before the attack. “My house was wonderful, totally open, with big magnolia trees in the garden. The magnolia trees survived.”

[Read Vivienne Walt’s full piece in Time.]

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Swords (Final Effect)

Commander Jane Shepard (promotion currently under consideration) ducked behind a wall as another hail of projectiles hurtled down the corridor. In the aftermath of the Reaper War, space pirates and raiders had become for more bold due to the losses the major powers had suffered. It was up to her and other elite agents to deal with them since the major powers were still struggling to recoup their losses.

It had gotten bad enough that the Systems Alliance had asked the Empire for assistance although they had been careful about rewording it as‘cooperative training exercises’ for the press to avoid inciting a panic. Personally, Shepard would have been perfectly happy telling some of the more overzealous members of the Empire to go nuts since they apparently had a long-standing grudge against space pirates. However, the higher ups did not want to appear weak with negotiations underway.

Honestly, it was ridiculous. Even if the Systems Alliance had been at full strength, the Empire could have crushed them without breaking a sweat. Oh well. At least dealing with space pirates took her mind off the fact that she would soon be swapping her armour for her dress uniform since she was, apparently, someone the Empire had come to respect greatly, and her superiors wanted her to participate in some of the negotiations.

“Can someone clear those pirates out?” Shepard asked over the comms.“I’d rather not stick my head around the corner and get it blown off by a rocket launcher.”

In response to her words, several glowing spears flew down the corridor, turned the corner, and then hurtled into the pirates before exploding. She rolled her eyes. Honestly, Celeste was just showing off now. The pink-haired Dia-Farron had the ability to create Aura construct in just about any shape she wanted that she could manoeuvre with incredible speed, accuracy, and precision.

“Consider them cleared out,” Celeste murmured as she walked past Shepard. The hamster on her shoulder squeaked a greeting and rubbed his paws together in glee. Knowing him, he was looking forward to looting the corpses. The pirates might not have advanced technology, but the Dia-Farron had made a point of collecting any technology they encountered.“Are you coming?”

Shepard laughed.“Right behind you.”

“Of course.” Celeste inclined her head. Like most Dia-Farron, the power armour she wore was dominated by shades of pink, orange, green, and blue. It looked a bit odd, and it was absolutely lacking in anything even approaching subtlety, but she doubted Celeste cared.“Do you want a weapon?”

Shepard grinned. This was why she loved working with Celeste.“Twin swords, monomolecular edges.”

Celeste waved one hand, and a pair of glowing swords with monomolecular edges appeared.“There you go.”

Shepard heft the weapons, and her grin widened. Celeste had weighted them to feel just like real swords.“Some covering fire while I close in would be appreciated.”

Celeste snapped one finger. A series of glowing blades thundered into the makeshift barricade the space pirates had tossed up. The barricade came apart in a shower of mangled metal, and Shepard gave a savage smile as she raced forward. There was nothing quite like fighting the enemy face to face.

As she ran, Shepard took a moment to appreciate her armour. The Dia-Farron had worked on it. They had, apparently, only used technology that the Systems Alliance was capable of replicating in the near future, but the suit was far, far, far better than it had originally been. It seemed to anticipate her movements, and the servos built into it amplified her strength without hindering her speed or agility. Without her suit, Shepard was one of the deadliest humans alive. With it? She was a living chainsaw.

She struck the pirates in a blur of motion. One sword whipped up and forward, and the pirate - a Batarian - was cleaved in two. Using her other sword to relieve another pirate of his weapon - and the arm that was holding it - she spun and decapitated a pair of pirates that had tried to sneak up on her. Fully immersed in the thrill of combat, she pressed on, ducking several shots, before she leapt, twisting in mid-air to kick off the ceiling and land right in the middle of the next group of pirates.

With terrifying ease, she sliced and diced her way down the corridor. The glowing Aura construct blades seamlessly cut through everything they encountered as she decided to put some of her lessons with Celeste to work. The Empire placed a far greater emphasis on melee combat than most factions, and the moment she’d found out that Celeste was considered a master of several dozen different weapons, she had immediately badgered the other woman into teaching her whenever she had the chance.

The ultimate objective of all weapons forms in the Empire was to become formless, capable of adjusting to any situation and exploiting any weaknesses or flaws in the opponent. However, attaining formlessness required absolute mastery of form. Celeste had picked out several styles that she thought would suit Shepard best, and Shepard had worked tirelessly to incorporate them into her fighting.

Her favourite form was the one she was using now, something Celeste referred to as the Intercepting Blade. It was a style that relied on speed, precision, and above all anticipation. The ability to read the opponent’s movements and then react, striking before they could react or adjust was crucial. Given how quick Shepard was, as well as her instinctive grasp of combat, it was a style she had quickly grown to love.

A slight twitch of her next opponent’s arm gave his moves away, and she used her superior speed to kill him before he could do anything more than start his attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a trio of pirates, and she guessed their intentions. She threw herself sideways and let the devices built into her boots grasp onto the wall. Running sideways along the wall, she parted one pirate’s head from his shoulder and then let herself fall, rolling under a shotgun blast before springing up and bisecting the shooter as she soared over him and landed behind the final pirate. He turned, knife flashing toward her throat, but she was ready. She parried the blow with one sword and then gutted him as he skidded past.

Silence reigned for a moment in the corridor before one of the pirates, who had somehow managed to survive being cut almost in half, raised his weapon in trembling hands - only to be pinned to the wall by an Aura construct spear through the eye. The weapon dropped out of his hands, and Celeste chuckled.

“You missed one.” At Celeste’s feet, her hamster was busy scanning the pirate’s equipment and packing it away into one of his subspace pockets. When one of the other pirates twitched, the hamster squeaked and fired a thin beam of electricity into the downed Batarian. Shepard had learned the hard way that war hamsters were deadly even without transforming. Celeste’s lips twitched.“And was all of the flipping and twirling really necessary?”

Shepard chuckled.“Not all of us can just point and have a storm of swords impale our opponents.”

Celeste shrugged.“I won’t argue with that.” She summoned a glowing sword for herself and leapt to cut a hole in the ceiling. Several corpses tumbled down. There had been pirates crawling through an air duct.“But this facility really does have a lot of pirates in it. It’s rather aggravating.”

“It’s easy pickings with so few ships able to patrol at the moment.” Shepard knelt beside one of the bodies and frowned. She’d seen quite a few pirates wearing these badges. The last thing they needed was for the pirates to organise into proper groups instead of haphazard raiding parties.“By the way, you never did tell me who devised the Intercepting Blade.”

“Oh?” Celeste grinned.“The Intercepting Blade is a style that is heavily based on the techniques and tactics used by Saviour. To be honest, you really need some form of precognition or prediction to use it to its full potential.”

“Saviour?” Shepard’s brows furrowed.“As in the Semblance the Fleet Admiral has?”

“Yes. Maybe you'll get to see her use it someday, but I doubt there’s anything in this galaxy strong enough to warrant it.”

“Not even a Reaper?”

“Oh, she could kill one of those easily enough with her Semblance, but we’ve got other things that can do that too as you know. However, there are things back home that we do need Saviour to kill. Hopefully, none of those show up.”

“Let’s hope so.” Shepard shuddered. Some of the stories she’d heard about the Grimm made the Reapers seem positively pedestrian in comparison. Swarms numbering trillions of Grimm, some of which could consume solar systems? Insanity.“So are there any more pirates around?”

Celeste shook her head.“I’ve had my drones scan the rest of the facility. There aren’t any living pirates around. However, there are some personnel holed up in one of the more remote wings of the facility, so we should go tell them it’s safe to come out.”

“Ah. Right.” Shepard glanced at the two glowing swords she was holding.“Thanks for the swords, by the way.”

“It’s fine.” The swords vanished, and Celeste began to walk down the corridor with her hamster perched on her shoulder.“Weapons are meant to be used, and you looked as though you were really enjoying yourself. I’ll have to see if i can get you a plasma sabre.”

“A plasma sabre? I’m assuming that’s basically a sword made of plasma, right?”

“Basically. I won’t get into the specifics, but that’s pretty much correct. You’re not technically supposed to get one since it’ll be a while since your people get close to developing any, but I can handle the paperwork to authorise it.”

Shepard couldn’t wait.“You know, Liara thinks I’m becoming even more obsessed with weapons now that you guys are around.”

“I’m a Dia-Farron. True, I come from the more sensible side of the family, but I can hardly complain. When I was growing up, my cousins spent most of their free time building weapons that could smash cities. By the time I was an adult, they’d moved up to constructing planet-cracking weapons that were, technically, illegal but it wasn’t like anyone else in the family was going to say anything because everyone else was doing it too.”

X X X

Author’s Notes

A Shepard’s work is never done.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. Please check out my newest story on Amazon. It’s called Monster Whisperer.

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Running Late - Jason Todd x Reader

You weren’t particularly sure how you were feeling. Feelings were always so changeable and easily manipulated. Who knows what could be influencing your brain at the moment.

Maybe it was the fact your name was commonly associated with the Red Hood’s, and everyone liked to fixate on your friendship, how having a connection with Jason must mean something.

If everyone thought it meant something, then it probably did, which meant you were being oblivious and in denial.

But if it didn’t mean anything, then you were easily influenced and stupid.

You were confused.

It all started with simple and small things. Finding out a member of the Batfam you’d never met was in town and unaccepted. Taking some homemade pancakes over to combat Alfred's awful ones (Tim had told you he’d taken some over before and it had led to a bonding chat between brothers)

“Most of Bruce’s people don’t ring the doorbell.” He’d eyed you up, lingering at the bag of Waffle’s, and raising his eyebrow. His brain was turning, and he was trying to work out why you’d be at his safehouse.

“I have manners.” you motioned forward,“And usually when someone brings you a gift of food you let them in to eat some of it with you.”

“Who are you?”

“(Y/N),” you shrugged,“Met Cass in the roof of the ballet hall fighting demon zombies, saved Tim’s ass, trained by Kate Kane, now a part-timemember of the family.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to say hey.”

“You’ve said hey.”

“And talk, you’re in town, we’ll run into each other and work together, and you can’t work together without some sense of trust. Now let me in so we can get to know one and other.”

He finally opened the door and stepped aside. You hadn’t thought it would go that well.

You started using some of Tim’s tech to randomly hack into the comm in his helmet. Just for random chats and to exchange information. He needed more help than he liked to admit and having you just randomly pop up stopped him from having to ask.

Other people started to notice how much you were talking when you’d randomly start laughing during a fight, and they’d look to see who was online, only to see his logo and a locked conversation. Then there would be the occasional comment where one of you would reference something only the other understood.

Randomly singing the Red Robin theme tune.

Something about a purple alien brain that exploded into sparkles

Then there was the time you disappeared for a week to do a mission with the outlaws.

Then the month you were gone.

The three weeks Jason spent in Gotham - completely avoiding most of his family. Avoiding his family didn’t mean they didn’t see you two around (both in costume and without)

“Your ability to randomly show up and disappear is extremely useful and extremely annoying.” you joked, unlocking the door to his safehouse.

“Annoying?”

“I never know exactly where you are, or when you’re going to appear and terrify my date.” you referenced when Jason walked up to you outside a bar earlier in the week.

“That was a date?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, the dude and I had been vibing for a while, and it was the first time we’d been out just the two of us.”

“You could’ve told me to go away.”

“That would’ve been rude!”

“Nah, I would’ve got it.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“I so would!”

“I guess I’ve been replaced.” you mocked.“Dramatically sigh, I came back to this, back to life, all that energy!”

“Don’t insult me.” he genuinely seemed upset, and you knew you’d hit a nerve without meaning to. You’d really only meant it as a joke.

“You’re irreplaceable, Jace,”

“Don’t try and backtrack.”

“Making fun of you - JOKINGLY, and admitting that I’d rather be out with you isn’t backtracking.”

“Ha! So you’re happy I broke up your date.”

“Eh, don’t know, you’re more fun, I mean you’re my friend, so of course you’re fun. Plus, like I said, it’s impossible to know when I’m going to see you.”

“Come on my next big job with me.”

“I have a job you know, I can’t just disappear and be an outlaw whenever.”

“Then plan it, run away with me for a bit. Use your holiday slots or something.”

“I’ll think about it.” you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t just disappear for months. You had too many friends and family who needed you in Gotham - and your past few random trips had got you the reputation of unreliable. You needed to fix that.

“I’m gonna leave tonight.” He turned away from you and started picking up things he’d want to take with you.

“Without talking to Bruce?”

“I don’t want to talk to Bruce.”

“You never want to talk to Bruce.”

“See you next time.”

“Come home soon.”

The conversations between you both continued but you didn’t actually see Jason for a long time, and eventually, the talks took a pause. Everyone still spoke about you both - how (Y/N) could ask Jason about something, how (Y/N) is always talking to him so we know he’s fine Bruce, how (Y/N) and the Red Hood had done this or done that, or had some special intel thanks to a mission they’d finished quickly.

You didn’t have the heart to tell the family you hadn’t actually spoken to him in a while. It would make them worry, and if Jason wanted to be invisible, he’d have a reason. Any bats looking for him could screw up a job, get him killed or captured.

It bothered you.

Not speaking.

Knowing he was probably out there having a lot of fun and you weren’t part of it. That you were in Gotham. That Jason was avoiding his family, and you’d somehow got forgotten too.

You missed him. His sarcastic and over dramatic comments. The creative way he’d describe people.

How smart he actually was.

Maybe you didn’t miss the brooding, and the darkness, but you always felt like he’d never been that dark around you. Perhaps he was kinda lying to you, never showing you the person everyone else saw - but all that meant is other people started to see him the way you did.

Steph had asked if you were dating and Dick had definitely tried to eavesdrop the conversation.

You hadn’t even thought about Jason and you that way before then. But now you were all confused. Missing him. Thinking about him. Worrying and wanting to hear his voice. Thinking about all the moments from everyone else’s perspective and reading into everything both of you had ever done.

When you were in New York for an investigation, you spotted a Red Helmet on the top of a skyscraper.

You’d been at a Wayne Event, and rushed to the roof of your building to wave.

He swung over instantly, pulling off the hood for a second to smirk.

“What’s got you so pretty - that boyfriend took you on a trip or something?”

“Maybe.”

“So you’d run away with Mister Boring but not me?”

“Mister Boring? I never said he was boring.”

“You said I was more fun.”

“What does it matter,” you rolled your eyes and looked up at the sky.“I’m here for Bruce actually. And I ditched the kinda boyfriend a while ago.”

“Oh.”

“You’d know if you ever bothered to check in.”

“I thought you’d be too busy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

There was an odd pause as you just kind of looked at each other.

“So what are you doing in New York?” you broke the silence

“Exploring towns to settle down in a bit more,” he spoke quietly.

“Are you kidding me? What does New York have that Gotham doesn’t?”

“No Batman.”

“Seriously? Just talk to him! Don’t you want to be able to have a family?” he lowered his head slightly.

“You don’t understand the situ-”

“I do understand! Tim wants to know you, Dick’s always told you he’s open to talking, Cass could use someone like you to look to int he darker moments, Damian and you are so similar! I’m stuck getting side eyes from everyone because you gave me a chance.”

“You were different.”

“How?”

“You never looked at me like I was the Red Hood, the dead Robin.”

“You gave yourself that title.”

“And?”

“If you wanna wear that label, go ahead, but wear it with pride, and don’t think you can blame everyone else for thinking about you that way. The Joker’s old identity, The Joker big win over Batman - it’s not negative unless you make. Yes, you got taken down, but you came back.‘Bruce’s biggest mistake’ didn’t come back from the dead, you, a human person, did. Maybe what happened was a mistake, but you’re the one choosing to let it stay that way.”

“He’d never accept me and I’m not changing.”

“I’m not saying you need to change. Play by your own rules whenever you like. Call yourself the black sheep, but realise you’re the only one thinking about you that way. And, realise the mistake wasn’t you, it was driving you away. Fix the mistake by coming home. Get over the differences and know that there’s far more love in your life than hate. Your brothers and sister want you in their life.”

“It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late.” you got a text that told you to return to the party. You turned and opened the door leading down the stairs and into a giant glass meeting room.“Never.”

A few weeks later, a heavy knock came from your apartment door, and a Jason - holding homemade Waffle’s was waiting for you.

A beautifully warm feeling filled your body up. Seeing him, walls down and coming to you of his own accord. Just Jason. Hands touching for a second as you took the bag of waffles, sparked sending shivers up your arm. He’d made you wait, nothing for weeks, but he was here.

“Bring me home?”

“Happily.”

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Mass Effect Asks Masterlist- Cato

(Originally posted by thenerdcommander, credit where credit is due.)

1. What would their recruitment mission look like? ((Cato’s recruitment mission, if it even can be called such, would be after Menae. Primarch Fedorian has fallen. Cato finds Shepard on the Citadel after that mission and demands to come along with them. Shepard might be reluctant at first, but eventually allows it.))

2. Would they be a romance option? If so, who would the option be available to and what would their romance look like? Would there be any special scenes? ((Cato is a shy thing in the ways of romance and sex. And another species? That’s just too confusing for him).)

3. If there is one, what would their sex scene look like? How would the scene change if Shepard or Ryder turned the sex down? ((On the off chance, we’d get to see a naked turian that’s probably never had sex before and certainly never with a human lol it’d be awkward but sweet with a quick fade to black.))

4. If left unromanced, do they hook up with another character? If so, who is it? Is it a canon character or another OC? ((Nah, probably not.))

5. Would they be available as a fling option? What would that scene look like? ((Also probably not))

6. Is there any way Shepard or Ryder could get them to turn on them or betray them? How? Is there any way to get them to back down once the betrayal is triggered? ((Shepard would have to do something big and horrible for Cato to betray them. Like genocide big. And yes, not doing the right thing with the Shroud mission, but then how would Cato know that?))

7. What would their loyalty mission look like? (Cato’s loyalty mission would be simple. All he’d want is a day to pretend the galaxy might not actually be ending, a day to be normal. He’d want to go somewhere the Reapers haven’t touched yet and while that may be hard, he’d just need Shepard to pretend everything’s okay with him for just a little while.))

8. Is there any way to lose their loyalty after it’s earned? How? ((No, I don’t think so.))

9. What would their relationship with Renegade Shepard look like? Paragon Shepard? If they’re from Andromeda, what’s their relationship with Ryder (pick any two alignments)? ((I think Cato would greatly look up to a Paragon Shepard, the always doing what’s right would speak to him on a Spiritual level. Renegade Shepard would probably rub him the wrong way because sometimes doing what’s right in the moment in a way that’s not right is a grey concept he just doesn’t have the experience to grasp.))

10. What phrase(s) would they shout during combat? ((“Incoming!” “Outta the way!” for biotic attacks/charges. Otherwise I think he’d be verbally keeping count of enemy positions.))

11. Any squadmates they don’t particularly get along with? ((Honestly? I think it’s less that he wouldn’t get along with Jack but that she would scare the hell out of him. He’d find how powerful she is totally fascinating, and that her body is her own canvas would intrigue the artist in him. But she’s outwardly abrasive, crudely spoken, and volatile. Waaaay too intimidating for Cato. I think, were he to go along on her loyalty mission, he’d view her as something more of a kindred Spirit, but still be too skittish to make friends. ALSO since ME3. Javik. Javik would terrify him. He’s mean, he’s battle weary, he’s bleak and he finds no joy in the little things.))

12. Are there any instances where rivalries between them and another squadmate could potentially jeopardize their loyalty or views of Shepard or Ryder? ((Maybe? Like I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure there’s something. Cato mostly just follows along with the flow, but he’s moody so... it’s possible.))

13. Which squadmates are they likely to make friends with? ((Everyone but maybe Javik. Tali he’d adore. Garrus is a role model. Liara is asari and he loves their artwork and history so much. James I think he’d warm up to fast. Ashley/Kaiden are in the air but I don’t see why not.))

14. In which game would they be introduced to the franchise? ME1? ME2? ME3? Andromeda? ((In ME3))

15. Would they make multiple appearances throughout the games or are they limited to one installment? If they reappear, do they remain as a squadmate or do they become an NPC? ((He’s just a squadmate in ME3 but maybe we saw him as an NPC in ME1 or ME2. He’d have been on the Citadel a lot then.))

16. Which skills are available to them? If they’re from the OT, pick four active powers and one unique passive class power (ex: Turian Agent, Asari Commando, Turian Smuggler, etc). If they’re from Andromeda, pick three active powers and two passive (one of which should be a unique class power). ((So... this is hard. Cato’s an Adept, so his top four biotic moves are: Warp, Shockwave, Throw, and a Biotic Charge just for fun. Idk what passive class powers are, sorry.))

17. Write a quick exchange of banter between them and one other squadmate of your choice.

Cato: “I could use my biotics?”

Mordin: “Yes. Turian biotics, burn bright, burn hot, strong in bursts. Sufficient.”

Cato: “Or you could reach up there and pull it down. ‘Cause you can reach.”

Mordin: “….Small for a turian youth. Still growing? No, stunted. Lack of nutrition? Genetic mutation? Hmm Could take samples….”

Cato: “No samples! Spirits, I’m still growing, everyone says so….”

18. What weapons would they use? Pick 1 minimum, maximum of 2 firearms, 1 melee weapon, and/or 1 special or unique weapon. ((Cato’s got an M-3 Predator, a Phaeston, and an omniblade for close quarter emergencies.))

19. Name one thing that players would remember them most by (ex: Garrus’ calibrations, “Lola”, Mordin’s singing, etc). (Folks would remember that Cato’s the baby! He’s so young and idealistic, kind and caring. Like… he’s great as a squad member bc biotics and small arms fire, but… but he’s still a kid that wants to do kid things. Like go somewhere and eat nothing but junk food, or hit the movies or whatever. He would always need to be supervised bc he has no impulse control either.)

20. If they’re from the OT, what ways could they be killed on Virmire, during the Suicide Mission, or the events of ME3 (pick one)? If they’re from Andromeda, are there any ways they could die? If so, how and how could Ryder prevent it if prevention is possible at all? ((So ME3 and I think he could maybe die during the final battle on Earth, but only if Shepard didn’t do his loyalty mission which reminded Cato“normal” was what they’re fighting for.))

21. Can they be Indoctrinated or Exalted? If so, what would they be like? What options would Shepard or Ryder have to handle the situation? Would there have been options to prevent it? ((No, I don’t think so))

22. How would they react to other squadmates, Shepard, or Ryder being Indoctrinated or Exalted? ((Aghast confusion. Sadness, fear.))

23. When on the Tempest or Normandy, where do they like to stay? Do they roam around? What about on the Citadel or Nexus? ((Cato likes to hang around Garrus or the galley on the Normandy. Turian biotics are always hungry and Garrus is another turian that he can look up to. On the Citadel, he either loiters near the embassy in hopes of visiting with his grandpa -pre 3- or he’s down at the docks praying to see someone he knows. ))

24. Do they have an opinion on the way Shepard drives the Mako? Or how Ryder drives the Nomad? (At first, Shepard drives the Mako way too recklessly and fast…. but Cato is still a child in many ways and I think he’d gradually have fun with Shepard driving, if Shepard was willing to teach him how.))

25. Are they vocal about their opinions of the Council or Nexus Leadership? If so, what is their opinion? Do they make a passing comment to another squadmate or do they say it to Shepard or Ryder directly? (I’d say Cato is vocal about his opinions. His grandpa’s the Primach, he kinda has room to be, lol. And I’m sure he’d willingly talk about it if asked. He hates how the Cabal/biotic turians are ostracized, he doesn’t really understand why. He hates how barefaced and outer colony turians are looked down on. He’s sure that the Turian Councilor has turian people’s needs in mind but how can you see the scope of the big picture if you’re not looking at all the pieces that make it whole too?)

26. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly disapprove of? ((If Cato was aware-somehow- that Shepard put the fake cure in at the Shroud mission, he’d really disapprove of that.))

27. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly approve of? ((Doing that mission for the new Primarch and SAVING Tarquin. Fight me on this. My biotic Shepard could’ve saved him, damnit.))

28. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the Citadel DLC or for Movie Night? ((Maybe to Shepard in regards to their clone and is that like having a sibling? Cato always wanted a sibling. He probably drinks too much at the later party and ends up passed out in a cozy, secluded spot.))

29. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the final battle against the Reapers or the Archon? ((The final battle against the Reapers, he wouldn’t be able to just sit on his hands, he’d be on the ground driving whatever vehicle transported the survivors to safe locations.))

30. How would they react to meeting Shepard’s clone? Or Ryder’s twin? ((Much confusion. By that point, I like to think Cato would’ve intergated himself into Shepard’s day-to-day. And why doesn’t Shepard talk to him as warmly? Or joke with him the same? Clone? Oooohkay then.))

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I am currently working on an Aphmau Au atm. This is a placeholder ((aphmau’s design will change)) But here’s the jist. Its kinda an RPG au? Like it works simularly to delta rune, or Persona 5 where there are 2 worlds. One where you fight and one where you improve your relationships with people and like talk and stuff.

If I do write the au I’ll do like 5 different versions. ((Also Ein Aphmau & Claire are just the potential starter crew. You get ALOT more party members)) All 3 versions will have a VERY different story and a different aphmau.

In anycase in the first version i’ll be working on ((I’ll just copy paste my amino post

Here are some sibling headcanons for Aphmau and…Ein in an au were they were raised together ((taking some ideas from https://aminoapps.com/c/aphmauamino/page/user/queenofmelons-einchancultleader-danviscult/x46z_L7iof3aWYBv0Ydg1wX6ZZZX2kplD& https://aminoapps.com/c/aphmauamino/page/user/alice-on-elm-street-teamein/76jn_dXTBfGp5XpJJqGkP6o5eN8qPRlPD )) ((Like Eins parents being missing so he’s raised by sylvanna, and Ein dying aphmaus hair, ect))

- Werewolves don’t exist

-Forever potions don’t exist

- Ultimas don’t exist

- Meifwa don’t exist

- Witches don’t exist

- Ein is overprotective and will fite any boy who tries to court Aphmau.

- Ein & Sylvanna once plotted against Aaron together

.- Ein used to bully aphmau when they were younger but doesn’t really anymore

-Sylvanna put Ein into Aphmau’s life at the age of about 5. Ein was 4 years old at the time. And he had nobody in his family with the money to take care of him. Sylvanna being a saint took him in. Claire came into Aphmau’s life a bit later when she was 7 Claire was 8

- Ein loves photography and has an entire collection of still life photo & landscape photo’s that he scribbled on with crayon

- Aphmau is the stronger then Ein. She had to get tough to keep this boy in line.- Aphmau’s older and loves her baby brother to bits….even if he can be a little bit of a dick sometimes he’s still..her baby brother. But Claire’s the strongest sibling

- Aphmau sometimes gives Ein huggle attacks and he either hates them or severely appreciates them depending on his mood.

- Ein styles aphmau’s hair all the time for her. He loves doing it. Most of the time he does what she likes which is giving it an ombre purple. ((Though he thinks she should get streaks))

- Aphmau is similarly protective over Ein and once threatened both Ein & Aaron to not hurt eachother telling Aaron “If you hurt my baby brother I will beat you to death with your own bloody femurs” and telling Ein “If you hurt my boyfriend I will break your kneecaps”

- Aphmau loves painting Eins face, Claire will never let aphmau paint her face.

- Ein is completely fine with Aphmau painting his face. He wears whatever look she gives him with pride. No matter how stupid it is. If you make fun of it he will DESTROY you for making fun of his little sisters work

- The Ein & Aphmau rough house sometimes but not very severely. More like playfighting if anything. Claire usually just avoids the fighting or hides

- When they were younger Aphmau would always play the villain while Ein played the hero. Ein was a bratty kid that always wanted to be a hero since he loves being in the spotlight. Claire would be the Damsel in distress. She thoroughly enjoyed playing the princess-

Aphmau sometimes paints Ein’s nails and does his make up. He is her testing dummy. he’s fine with this. As long as he gets to do her make up. Claire Also lets Aphmau do her make up. As long as she follows her instructions

- Aphmau was shitty at being a villain

- Ein got a tattoo (on his butt) and never told Sylvanna about it. She still doesn’t know to this day

- When Ein got his ears pierced & hair dyed without Sylvanna’s permission she almost had a heart attack. She literally felt like the world was ending. She tried everything in her power to stop him from expressing himself this way but…in the end she couldn’t. She could however course him into not hurting others.- Ein somehow got Sylvanna to be okay with Him and Aphmau dying their hair.

- Ein & Sylvanna talk shit about Aaron behind his back all the time. They also do it in front of his face!

- Ein was the one who got Aphmau into Gaming, Sylvanna had bought him a game console before Aphmau because…he was a boy and Sylvanna didn’t think Aphmau would be interested and Ein loved it. Aphmau would always watch him and try to get Ein to teach her how to play the games he had. He did of course. Aphmau believes if Ein had never gotten her into gaming she would have never met Aaron..this isn’t true of course but. Yeah

-Claire Has that big sister pride. And enjoys being in charge

- Ein’s into photography

- Ein can’t spell for the life of him and is horribly dyslexic

- Aphmau’s entire bloodline has a tendency to get overprotective ((weather it be from jealousy or not. You don’t hurt their children/siblings. Just the ones she’s blood related to though. ))

- Claire likes smooth Jazz and Tea

- Zack has like 20 kids and only knows like 3 of there names. Ein isn’t the first child born from an affair he had and Ein won’t be the last.

- Claire is one of those babies. ((She’s a canon character watch the fnaf rp. (Also it appears to be an au of Mystreet possibly since Laurence is present in one of Aphmaus photos )))

- Claire hates horror movies, and is absolutely terrified of anthropomorphic animals.

- Claire has depression and honestly has a hard time getting up in the morning

- Claire often falls for horrible people and has bad tastes in men. She has had her heart broken many times

- Claire had a stillbirth baby in the past. it was a boy. The death of this baby kickstarted her depression

- Aphmau babies Ein sometimes because when he was a little kid he had to be pampered and she can’t get out of that thinking style for the life of her.

- Ein has a therapist he goes to who helps him with his problems. He has medications he has to take to keep him calm and such. Without them he becomes slightly creepier to be around…only slightly- Ein eventually warms up to Aaron over time. alongside Sylvanna

- Ein is a furry and he got a fursuit one day Aphmau is okay with this cause it makes him happy

- Aaron is disturbed by it and Aphmau once called him out for furrsicution. And lectured him for hours on it

- Ein broke Aphmau’s game boy when they were little. It was an accident but still

- Ein gets really passionate about things and has a tendency to obsess. He can get lost in fantasy for hours on end. He is very obsessive.

- Ein disliked Garroth for a some time….until Garroth took off his shirt. Then he liked him all of a sudden. Aphmau was very weirded out by how fast Eins mind changed.

- Ein sometimes has mini panic attacks when Aphmau goes out on dates. he realizes he can’t intervene but he can’t help but worry. He knows what monsters are like and he doesn’t want Aphmau to get hurt by one.

- If you break Aphmau’s heart Ein will come for you with an ax , & Claire will post nasty things about you on the internet

- Aphmau is slightly more violent in this au. Ein had some influence on her as a kid. Its not by alot though. She just has very harsh threats

- Ein makes sure Aphmau can protect herself, They have work out days were they get BEEFY!

- Aphmau worries about Eins future constantly and often has nightmares about it. Sylvanna does too sometimes but less.

- Aphmau can be super sweet at some points but suddenly enter drill sargant mode if your acting like a little kid . She uses tough love, and gentle guidance. She uses both when she see’s fit.

- Aphmau paints Eins nails and does his make up sometimes. He enjoys it. it’s fun for him.

—————————————————————————————————

Alright now for some of the things in the Combat world

- Team attacks are possible. You can use special moves with another party member

- Summoning is also possible. But only if your not related ((You’d summon a “Child” like If Aphmau and Aaron did a summon it’d be Alina, If Aphmau and Laurence did a summon it’d be Malachi, If Aphmau and Garroth did a summon it’d be Levin, so on so forth. )) The summon vanishes after the battle. And the summon has the appearance of an adult

- Ein gains Wolf ears in the combat world and he is very happy about that Very excited

- Aphmau gains bunny ears in this world

- Claire Gets cat ears

- Ein howled and Aphmau was very confused. Just because you gain animal ears doesn’t mean you gain their tendancies. Ein’s just howling cause he wants to be a dog furry.

- Claire has the highest attack, she has low defence though, she Also has HORRIBLE magic attack. She has higher speed then Ein

- Aphmau has medium defense, higher attack then Ein, alot of Sp, and alright magic. Her stats can change and you can improve them manually (She’s the only one you can do this with. The others stats are predetermined ((Unless your counting Armor and stuff)). Aphmau has the highest speed

- Ein Has high magic attack, High defense, but also the lowest attack out of the 3. This does NOT mean he’s weak however.

- Most of Eins attacks are magic ones, Though he does have a few attacking moves. Some being really brutal. But he usually just shoots lasers at you, or little blasts.

- Aphmau has alot of healing spells, but she also has some fire spells. Her attacks are really fast and Jumpy

- Claires Attacks are really direct, and they hit hard. She has little to no magic spells, But she does have some…distracting moves. It’s not really magic though but she can drag attention to herself very easily. And lower her enemies stats

And that’s all for now I hope you like the au

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Monday Night Dungeon Mastering - The Surrender Fallacy

Writers can find themselves itching with an idea. This singular concept of story and narrative sits sluggishly on their minds and teases them with a feather between the shoulder blades. The writer sees their idea as a defining moment of ultimate action that must be realised to be itched. It is where the story comes to climax and the reader is struck in their seat with the awe of it. It is so pure and divinely emotional that it rattles the nerves to even contemplate it, but, if only the writer could wrangle their story into getting there.

This obsession over one moment trivialises the story as it ducks and weaves through itself. The world and characters begin bending and straining to the point of collapse to somehow allow this one moment to take centre stage. It's the ego talking. We believe our own hype, and consequences be damned. Resultantly, the narrative suffers to propagate this flawed ideal.

This issue is prevalent enough within an environment where the writer controls all input. In a novel or script the writer has sole authority over characters and their agency. The world buckles and bends to their command and reshapes as they see fit. Now, imagine a narrative setting where you,as the writer, don't control the characters ...

... not even close.

Spoilers: you don't have to. The answer is being a Dungeon Master. Big surprise.

As a Dungeon Master (and trust me, I sympathise) you will have these grandiose concepts for story and player character narrative. You want the game to be exciting. You want your players to have fun. But ...

but.

You kinda, maybe, also might want to show off a little. Just once or twice. Y'know, put your best foot forward and give yourself something to be proud of once the session ends. You can't let them have all the fun. Maybe its your world, or an NPC or villain you are particularly proud of. So you write that in, and you build the scene in your head. You will beautifully narrate the importance of the heroes' quest, terrify them with the danger of your irredeemable - yet morally complex - villain, and show the best of the world you have poured countless hours over in your study. You have perfected every encounter, named every tavern and drink, statted every character down to the skill points and pettiest of equipment, and you are ready to blow your player's minds.

BUT THEY WON'T

SIT

STILL.

The illusionist rogue kicks away from his seat and hurries to harass your chieftain-warlord of grotesque, inhuman rage. The barbarian flips her table and rushes your undercover, double-agent assassin with a maul without an inkling of provocation. The wizard casts a counter-spell on your sorcerer as he tries to dramatically teleport away, leaving him stuck in a sad, little cloud of expended, magical smog. The bard just WON'T STOP SEDUCING THINGS.

So you snap.

You take your player characters, sit them down, tie them up, and force them to listen. For once. You become one of those nightmarish preschool teacher who duct tapes his students to their chairs.

You set your players up for defeat, stacking the odds against them to such an insane degree that they simply have no other choice but to surrender, or maybe you don't even give them the chance to surrender and kidnap them as they sleep. Every action is batted down, every interruption silenced. You take a breath, and begin to tell your story in peace to your captives.

Do not do this. Please. It is unhealthy and can damage trust.

If you want a passive and silent audience, write a book. This just has the players feeling as if the DM has reached across the table and stolen their character sheet so she can play by themselves.

It manifests in many ways. Overbearing cut-scenes, NPC plot-armour, DM controlled Party Members, save-or-die mechanics, vetoed player actions, forced mulligans or redo’s. (Note how these are different from narrative or gameplay effects, like simply being taken prisoner, or getting knocked unconscious / paralysed in combat . The Surrender Fallacy is when the DM refuses player agency and does what he wants without allowing their input)

These are your players - your friends: people who have put aside their time and work to come to your game to play and have fun, not sit by and watch.

For one, they will hate it. They may behave like they accept it at the time, but their resentment will be immediate and sorely bitter. This is not a dynamic you want between your players and your game. If they have no control over their characters or their actions, then they will stop playing and do something else: play with their phones, talk about other things aside from the game. They will not be enjoying their time, no matter how happy you are, and eventually may just choose to not turn up.

To avoid this deathly circumstance you must do one, painful thing: you have to let go of your pride.

Your story will not be perfect - especially with players at the helm of it; it will be disastrous, chaotic, and downright sinister or even unheroic at times. But it will be their story. They will be in control of themselves. They will be acting. they will be playing, and they will be having fun in your world.

Learn to react to their shenanigans rather than demand something of them. Be happy with taking it slow, and do not get antsy when they are not chasing the plot about at breakneck pace. Don't abandon narrative altogether; continue to keep things tense and the consequences real, but understand that a memorable story is always based off of character choice, rather than having none - understanding that taking one road of a branching path makes their character unique with the knowledge that noone else would have done that same thing.

Respect your players and their agency, and they shall respect you, and your game.

And, most importantly,

Enjoy

Pixie x

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(Titantale pt1)Just thought of an idea, what about attack on titan x undertale (Titantale)? The monsters are the titans & the humans(Not the ones in the manga)built walls to keep them safe as Asgore waged a war on humanity, their size, strength & magic wiping many humans out until they were finally able to fight back when the gear was invented. Time passes & they're left in peace till the fateful day where the outer wall is destroyed allowing smaller monster to enter & devour/kill citizens

Titantale pt2)Frisk’s parents are killed, but they still remain merciful. They join the survey corps when they’re older to protect civilians, somehow never killing. Frisk is looking out over the town on the outerwall when a monster appears behind them(Sans)(who is being lifted up by papyrus to see over the wall despite paps being tall enough to barely look over) who places his hands on the wall, grinning down at them. Chaos erupts, in the chaos & confusion paps (accidentally) kicks a hole in the wall Titantale pt3)allowing smaller mons to enter, following Asgores’ orders to kill civilians(Paps & Sans were only meant to observe for Toriel, not break the wall open). Death & destruction follow, but Frisk never kills, only saves. They also save Sans & Paps from other scouts which causes them to get knocked into San’s mouth which snaps shut, saliva pooling from their taste, before being pushed around & tasted. Sans nearly swallows, but pulls them out. Both parties are frozen before Frisk escapesTitantale pt4)Paps & Sans escape, but Paps does seal the hole he caused, preventing any new monsters entering. The remaining mons inside are killed, whilst Frisk helps the remaining citizens before being captured and thrown in prison for being a traitor (saving the skele-bros). A couple of weeks later they’re being held for a public execution, injured & starving from guards disgusted with them. They insist they did no wrong, that the tall one was crying & displaying emotions, etc.Titantale pt5)Just as they’re about to be killed a boney hand surrounds them, shielding them from the attack before being picked up, screams & shouts sounding out at Sans’ sudden appearance. He’s livid at the soldiers, but concentrates on saving Frisk, swallowing them despite their pleas so they could heal, but make them think they’re dead so no one will look for her, before leaving. They were interesting & deserved to be rescued, he also wanted to know them better ~Shy anon

Aaaahhhhhh your ideas are always so amazing, I had so much fun with this one!!!!!

Frisk knew the monsters outside were dangerous. Many times larger than humans, with magic that allowed them to overwhelm even the strongest armies. And for reasons no one inside their Barrier could understand, they would eat humans.

The thought terrified her, especially after the fall of their first line of defense. She had lived in a town of Barrier for a long time - the past generations hadn’t been the most inventive when it came to names, the three walls being named Barrier, Home, and Surface. The Surface was the innermost sanctuary, hundreds of miles from the lands that had fallen to the monsters centuries ago. It was the land of privileged and elite, the richest of the rich. Home was where most of the remaining population lived, being the greatest area of land that humanity still claimed.

Barrier was the outermost wall, where the poorer citizens were. Frisk’s hometown was a wall district named Ebott, a small town jutting from the main mass of Barrier with its own defensive wall surrounding it. Not the most secure place, but no one inside the walls had seen a monster for almost a century.

Of course, the humans weren’t completely defenseless, cowering in their walls. They had a military, comprised of three main branches. The Mages, humans who possessed magical abilities and were thus most fit to combat monsters, was the most dangerous position. They were the only ones to journey outside the Barrier, in hopes of regaining the world lost to them.

Their expeditions had an average mortality rate of 40 percent. No one in their right mind would want to join them, and so the Mages were constantly in need of recruits. Though a child Frisk knew was insistent on joining them, as he would constantly announce to anyone who asked.

The second branch was the Keepers. They maintained the walls, and also were generally made up of magical humans, though these people didn’t have powers as strong as the Mages. Their responsibility was to keep guard at every gate and checkpoint along the walls, and to protect citizens in case of a breach. But that would never happen - no monster had ever penetrated the walls in the centuries since they’d been erected, and it was likely none ever would.

The last branch, and the most hated by common people, was the Guard. They were theoretically the most elite of soldiers, tasked with maintaining order in the Surface and protecting the king, though everyone knew they were lazy, slovenly cowards. None of the Guards ever saw anything larger than a street fight, and most of them couldn’t even use the gear every member of the military was provided with. At one time they had been descendants of the people who had built the walls, royal of blood if not birth. But by now anyone who graduated from boot camp with good enough marks could join.

Those who lived in the outer rings could only ever dream of seeing the Surface, a marvelous paradise that could only be found in stories outside that innermost sanctum. Frisk had never understood the allure of the Surface, though. She had always wanted to protect people, and had decided early in life that she would become a Keeper. At least, once she was old enough to join the military.

But her dreams were brought to frightening reality when the Barrier was broken. A monster more powerful than any seen before or after destroyed the gate of Ebbot, and Frisk had seen countless innocents die that day. She had managed to escape, finding refuge in Home, but from then on humanity knew what it was to be truly afraid. Her own parents had died in the attack, and she had left everything she knew behind to be taken by monsters.

When she turned thirteen, the girl signed up to join the military. The training camp was long and difficult, but she was pleased to meet some new friends.

The boy she’d known from Ebbot was there too, as determined as ever to join the Mages. Frisk wondered how he could still want to go out and fight - he’d lost his mother in the attack as well, and had barely escaped with his life. But she didn’t look down on his dream like many of the other recruits.

The trainees were divided up into seven groups, depending on their magical focus. Each type was fueled by a certain trait, and by working to strengthen that trait they would become powerful magicians.

Frisk was in the same group as that boy. She was more than a bit surprised - she didn’t think her magic would be based on Determination, she’d thought it would be Kindness, or possibly Patience. But she didn’t complain - the instructors knew what they were doing, after all.

The teen didn’t make it a point to talk to the boy. He was so intent on his goal of bringing back what humanity had lost he never stopped to think of mercy as an option. Frisk didn’t think he would get very far if his first thought was to fight.

After two long years the cadets finally fit to become soldiers, and their class spent the last night as a group in a border town of Home, celebrating and saying their goodbyes in preparation for the division the next day.

Most of her classmates were going to become Keepers, if they didn’t score high enough to join the Guard. Only a handful expressed a desire to join the Mages - the angry brunet boy and his two friends were the only ones that she could think of. Frisk said her goodbyes to those who would be leaving to the other branches, and went to bed early. The party had left her exhausted, and she wanted to be rested for the next day.

None of them could have guessed what would come with that new dawn. It had been a beautiful day, a few of the cadet squads were on the wall going through their daily routine that would be necessary if they were to become a Keeper. She had paused in her work to look out over the town, smiling as she wondered what new adventures awaited.

“Holy shit!” Someone yelled, prompting her to turn.

She froze on the spot, eyes widening as she stared at the impossible sight before her. A monster was peering over the wall, teeth fixed in a terrifying grin. Its gaze fixed on her, standing mere feet from its face. If she tried, she could probably touch it.

“What are you doing?? Sound the alarm, man the cannons! Frisk, move!”

Someone grabbed her by the arm, roughly yanking her away from the monster. It watched as she stumbled, falling to her knees as her shaking legs gave out.

Looking up at whoever had pulled her, she saw the boy from Ebbot, the one set on being a Mage. His face was set in a look of grim determination as he shouted orders to the rest of them, all frozen in shock like she had been.

He turned, looking at her and nodding. They were the only two Determination mages on the wall - the strongest branch of magic available to humans.

The other members of the squads were working quickly, bringing the cannons around as others gathered the ammunition. But they weren’t fast enough - a horrifyingly familiar ear-splitting sound came from below.

The gate had been broken, and the monsters could enter the city.

“Sound the alarm, now!” Frisk yelled, already scrambling for her flare gun. As a squad leader, she was provided one for emergencies. This definitely counted.

A red plume rocketed into the air, visible for miles around. The monster had disappeared - a skeleton type, her mind distantly noted - but there were more coming.

“We have to get the people out - it’ll be a slaughter! My squad, start evacuating those closest to the wall. The Keepers have been alerted, and hopefully the Mages haven’t left for the expedition yet.” She instructed. If they have, there’s nothing we can do but retreat to the Surface.

Her team nodded at the orders, hurrying to clear the buildings nearest the destroyed gate. She was shaking, she realized.

“Nice job, didn’t think you had it in you, Frisk! You’re a great leader, now let’s make sure these people can evacuate safely.” The boy - Eren, she suddenly remembered. His name was Eren - said, before shouting orders at his own people. “My squad, prepare to engage! Don’t let anything past the gate, they’re bottlenecked there and it gives us the advantage!”

“Don’t die.” She whispered, too faint for any of them to hear as they leapt into the fray.

Frisk had to protect the people of the town, she couldn’t let another innocent be killed. Not again, never again. She was sweating, barely managing to stay on her feet as she swung through the town, the familiar shzzz-fwip of her gear echoing in her ears.

She saw a squadron of Mages descend on a group of monsters, the emblem of their branch emblazoned proudly on their uniforms.

Maybe the day wouldn’t be completely lost, if the Mages were still here they might be able to reclaim the town.

Reaching a building some ways above the chaos, she stopped for a moment to rest, breathing heavily from her exertion. She watched as the Mages took down monsters, wincing whenever one of the massive beings collapsed into dust.

She may not like them, but she still didn’t like the thought of killing anything, even monsters.

As she watched, she saw the skeleton that had been peering over the wall. It was smaller than she’d anticipated - those walls were huge, and the skeleton was maybe forty feet tall. But there was another skeleton near it, this one somewhere between sixty and sixty-five feet, if she had to guess.

She saw a trio of Mages descend on the taller skeleton, magic sparking around them as they prepared to fight it. She saw the shorter skeleton turn, a look of what she could only call panic on its face before it vanished, appearing directly near its companion.

That one could be dangerous. A teleporting monster - she’d heard vague stories of them before, but no one had ever seen one. Frisk watched as it drove the three Mages off, its magic creating a flashing halo of blue and yellow in one eyesocket.

But she was more concerned about what she’d seen earlier. The monster had clearly been upset, but from everything she knew they weren’t emotional creatures - they only sought to hunt humans to extinction, with no regard for anything else. And it hadn’t killed or eaten those Mages, merely driven them away.

She was confused, but she wanted to see more of this strange monster. Without much further thought, she swung across the buildings toward the pair of skeletons, coming to a stop not far away. She watched them interact, curiousity growing as everything the two did defied all she knew about monsters.

Another group of Mages descended on them, these clearly more skilled than the ones before. Without thinking she launched herself towards them, standing between the squad and the pair of monsters she’d been watching.

“No, wait! These ones are different, they don’t act like any other monster we’ve ever seen. They haven’t hurt anyone, and they showed concern for each other.” She yelled, spreading her arms and planting her feet on the roof.

“What are you talking about, rookie? Get out of the way, that kind of behavior is going to get you killed!” One of the Mages replied scornfully, marching towards her with a grim scowl.

“I can’t let you do this - it isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen. We can study them, find out more about them! We don’t have to kill them, there has to be another solution!!” The girl replied, unaware of the massive footfalls behind her.

“Move, kid! If yer not gonna fight, run back to the inner wall and let the adults handle this!!” The Mage yelled back, shoving her out of the way.

The soles of her boots skidded across the roof tiles, finding no purchase as she tilted over the edge. She flailed frantically, trying to regain her balance, but fell despite her efforts, reaching towards the Mage that had shoved her and sent her tumbling.

She landed on her back, sprawled on a surprisingly soft, slimy surface. The girl lay there for a few seconds, stunned by the fall, before realizing that she was staring at a massive set of teeth. From the inside.

Frisk screamed in panic, reaching towards freedom a split second before ivory fangs snapped shut, barely missing her arm. She cried out, the force of her recoil sending her sliding back from the slick ooze coating everything around her. Complete terror filled her, adrenaline flooding through her veins as she clawed at the wall of teeth holding her captive, tears filling her eyes and streaming down her face to mix with the blueish slime she was quickly covered in.

A squawk escaped her as she fell onto her face, sputtering and coughing in surprise before she was pinned against those massive teeth, face pressed against the hard surface. She struggled, trying to at least turn to fight back easier, but couldn’t even manage to push away from the monster’s teeth.

Tears ran freely down her face. She was going to die here, there was nothing she could do to fight against an opponent so much larger and stronger than her. Falling limp, she didn’t even struggle as it pushed her around, simply waiting for the end.

Fear made her stiffen when she was squished against the top of the thing’s mouth, and she screamed senseless pleas upon feeling herself begin to slide. But it didn’t swallow her, though it could have so easily. Once again she was pushed towards the sharp fangs, pinned as the monster swallowed around her.

She shuddered, trying not to think, but she couldn’t help it. It was just a matter of time before she went the same way, nothing but a helpless morsel sent to burn in a monster’s belly.

“Please, I never wanted this I just wanted to help people I’m sorry I’m sorry I don’t want to die, someone please help me I don’t want to die like this.”

A scream slipped from her mouth as she suddenly tumbled backwards, landing hard on her back. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she lay gasping for breath for a few seconds, eyes still firmly shut. Finally she managed to fill her lungs, choking and coughing as she breathed.

“sorry.”

Her eyes flew open at that single word, growled from a voice far deeper than any she’d ever heard. She was frozen, staring up at the monster looming above her, its face cast in shadows that made it seem like something from a nightmare.

It was the skeleton type from before, the one she’d tried to stop from being killed. The white lights of its eyes were fixed on her, staring with as much intensity as her own terrified gaze. She trembled in fear, seeing huge digits curling up around her in the corners of her eyes. It had her - literally - in the palm of its hand. There was no way she could fight this.

An eternity of silence flashed by in a second, as she was suddenly dropped a short distance to the ground. The monster continued to watch her, hesitating for several minutes before pushing her with a finger.

The spell broke, and she scrambled to her feet, trying to get as far as she could from the behemoth. As she ran, she heard that deep, growling voice speak again.

“go.”

She didn’t look back, running as far and as fast as she could until she finally ran out of breath, collapsing in a hidden alleyway. It was some time before she was discovered, this time by a handful of her fellow recruits. She vaguely recalled being lifted from the ground onto someone’s back, the person carrying her to the muster point as her mind reeled from the experience she’d suffered.

A brief view of the destroyed gate stuck in her mind—it had been closed off with an unnerving lattice, a portcullis of bones spread far enough that humans could pass through on horseback, but close enough that no monster could squeeze in. Where had such a thing come from, she briefly pondered in passing.

“Frisk Deitez, you are under arrest for treason against humanity.”

“What??”

* * * * * * * *

Frisk shivered in the cool, dank air of the dungeon. She’d been down there for what seemed like weeks, but it couldn’t have been that long. Without a window she couldn’t know for sure, though.

The guards were cold and cruel, refusing to feed her much other than bread and water. She was starving and cold, but all she had was a hard wooden bench and a thin blanket.

“Please, I don’t know what you think I did, but I never would have betrayed us all!” She pleaded, shaking hands clasped around the bars of her cell.

“Shut up, you filthy traitor.”

That was how all her attempts at conversation went. She never even got a visitor down in the cold stone jail, locked up alone in the dark.

The door squeaked horribly, making her wince at the sharp sound. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, coming down to the row of cells deep beneath the earth.

“Come on. Take the traitor, it’s time for her trial.”

Frisk was roughly dragged out of her cell, handcuffed and kicked by the guards. Even though she couldn’t imagine what she could have possibly done to warrant this treatment, she still went quietly, stumbling from pain and weariness. The group arrived at the court after a few minutes, the girl barely able to walk straight. But she didn’t have to walk, at least, being chained to a post in the center of the room before everyone.

“Frisk Deitez, you stand accused of treason against your fellow humans and providing aid to the enemy. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty! I don’t know what you’re talking about, what did I do??”

“Your charade does not fool us. Testimony from several Mages placed you interfering in an attempted kill, blocking them from doing their job and speaking for the defense of monsters. How else could your actions be construed, except as betrayal of the highest order?”

“No, you - you don’t understand! Those ones were different, they showed emotion. They were concerned about each other, and didn’t try to hurt anyone, they just wanted to get away.” She tried to explain, before a loud bang made her flinch and fall silent.

“So you admit to interfering in the work of Mages? And yet, despite your insistence that these particular monsters made no attempt to harm any human, one of them nearly ate you, correct?”

The brunette teen was silent, her mouth hanging open in shock.

“N-no, I- One of the Mages pushed me, and I fell off the roof. It caught me, but didn’t try to eat me - it let me go, pushed me away from the fighting. How can you explain that as the actions of a mindless, ravenous beast?” She argued, pulling against the cuffs on her wrists desperately.

“You are found guilty of providing aid to monsters, interfering in the work of senior soldiers, and attempted betrayal of humanity. The sentence for your crime is death.”

The courtroom was so silent she hardly even dared to breathe. How could they accept this? How could her friends watch this without speaking up, let her be slaughtered like so many before her?

She was numb as another pair of guards released her from the post, yanking her to her feet and dragging her out of the building. Her mind vaguely registered the sight of the latticed gate, sunlight streaming through the gaps in the bones as they stopped before it.

Of course. For her crime, she would be sentenced to death.

By monsters.

Frisk struggled as the soldiers pushed her towards that entrance, fighting frantically to avoid the certain doom beyond. One of them laughed cruelly, sneering at her. “Why so scared? Weren’t you just telling that story about your monster savior, maybe it’ll come rescue you before you’re completely torn apart, eh?”

She let out a choking sob as they shoved her through the bone fence, falling on her face in the dirt beyond. Her whole body trembled in fear as she slowly sat up, looking back at the men who barred her from re-entering the safety of Home.

“Please, I-I didn’t mean to do anything! I just wanted to help, please don’t let me die.” She cried, tears blurring her vision.

“Better start yellin’ fer yer monster buddy, girlie, cause here they come.”

A shadow fell over her, blocking out the sun as she sobbed in the dust of the road. She didn’t even try to fight as a hand reached down, fingers curling around her to pluck her from the ground.

Somewhere behind her she heard shouting, but she was unable to pay it any mind. Her limbs refused to respond, stiff and numb from terror and mind clouded.

Frisk tensed as the monster touched her, fingers larger than her body curling over her and blocking out both light and sound. She was so scared, but she couldn’t get her body to work like she wanted it to.

“Please, I don’t- I don’t want to die, I never wanted- I was just trying to help, this isn’t what I thought would happen.” She whimpered quietly, already knowing her pleas would fall on deaf ears.

A low, growling hum made her flinch, ducking her head and raising her bound arms to try and defend herself from whatever was coming, but nothing happened. Looking up, she saw that she’d been taken by the smaller skeleton monster - a small relief, as at least this one hadn’t outright tried to kill her. It had pushed her out of the dangerous areas, after all. Maybe it was here to save her - wasn’t that a ridiculous thought.

But as she watched, it quickly raised a finger to its mouth in a shushing gesture, glancing between her and the gate below a few times. Confusion struck her, the girl just staring dumbly at the behemoth’s actions. It had been weird before, but this was a whole new level of strange.

There was some twisted sense of relief when it lifted her closer to its face, grip shifting to pinch the back of her shirt between two bony fingers. She squirmed, kicking at the empty air as it looked at her, brown eyes staring right back in confusion. Then it opened its mouth wide, and let go.

Frisk screamed, flailing wildly from the short fall into its maw. Her mind was blank, the only thought her desperate need for survival. She was even weaker than before, though, hunger and injury sapping her strength within minutes. The brunette could barely squirm when the monster pressed her against the roof of its mouth, but she still pleaded helplessly as she began to slide back.

Nothing she said seemed to affect it, as with a final, solid gulp she slid down the behemoth’s throat into its gut. She didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore, just trembled in fear as she curled around herself for a little comfort.

The analytical side of her was making studious observations about this skeleton’s insides, but she couldn’t be bothered to pay any attention to it. What good would it do anyone anyways, she would die without being able to tell anyone after all.

Her exhaustion, both emotional and physical, took its toll, and she finally gave in to unconsciousness, eyes closing as her breathing slowed to the soft rhythm of sleep.

* * * * * * * *

He was careful with the girl, not wanting to hurt her after going through all that trouble to get her. She was the only human he’d seen who would argue to the defense of monsters - Toriel would want to see her, and he was curious.

After sending her down to his stomach - more of a holding space beneath his ribs made of magic, really - he turned towards the gate. He could sense the souls of two humans hiding in the shadows, and gave them a cold, menacing glare. It sickened him that they had so little compassion as to be willing to watch a child die. Even though she was safe, they couldn’t know that, and they had laughed at her cries for mercy.

He was disgusted with humans. So cruel and callous, even towards their own kind.

With a final growl directed towards the slimy cowards he turned, leaving the wall towards his home, where his brother and the exiled queen waited.

It wasn’t a very long journey, at least for him with his shortcuts. If the humans tried to follow him, it would take near a week or more to reach the hidden place, but he was there in a few hours.

Upon entering their hidden home, he quickly made his way to the couch—monsters weren’t the uncivilized savages that the humans seemed to think they were, they had perfectly normal homes and lives much like the little creatures, but on a far greater scale.

There wasn’t any sign of his brother or Toriel, so he kicked back on the couch to take a nap. They’d wake him up when they got back, and so many jumps drained him and left him barely on his feet.

Besides, he couldn’t do much with the human until they arrived. Might as well rest.

* * * * * * * *

Muffled voices.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could tell there were two people talking. One had a deep voice, that seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The other voice was soft and warm, it sounded like home and safety and love. That voice was so gentle it almost made her cry, it was like coming home to a hug from her mom.

The girl was comfortable, laying on a soft, plush surface. Not like any bed she’d had, and certainly not like the ones in the barracks - little more than a wooden plank with blankets thrown over it. She was surrounded by the softness, cradled gently and perfectly warm.

Frisk shifted slightly, trying to alleviate a painful pinching numbness in her arms, but couldn’t move her wrists from each other.

The voices stopped, silence reigning for a brief moment before the deep voice spoke again, but this time she understood.

“i think she’s awake, tori.”

Why was that voice so familiar, but still so strange? The confusion was making her upset, but she was still so sleepy, and this weird bed was so soft and warm…

A startled yelp escaped her as she suddenly fell, landing on a hard and unforgiving surface after a brief tumble. She groaned, rubbing her shoulder where it had hit the ground - ? - and slowly blinking her eyes open.

Frisk froze, panic flooding through every inch of her body at what she saw. Two monsters, a skeleton and a - goat? Yeah, close enough - goat loomed far over her, casting an ominous shadow. The girl stared up and up and up almost impossibly high to take in the behemoths.

She was shaking horribly, acutely aware of the absence of her mobility gear on her hips. But even if she’d had the gear, she doubted there would be much she could do.

The skeleton lifted her up closer despite the terrified whine that she made, its fingers curling slightly around her. The movement made her head spin, vertigo setting in as she wobbled precariously in the giant beast’s palm.

But it just sat her on a flat surface, hesitating slightly near her before pulling its hand away. When she failed to stand up, wobbling for a brief moment, it reached towards her again, but she let out a frightened cry and hid behind her bound arms. An explosive release of energy made her look up, eyes widening at the ruby bubble that now surrounded her.

Of course, she only managed a shield after she was captured by monsters. Typical. But the clear walls made her relax somewhat - at least the gargantuan creatures couldn’t directly touch her.

“s’at better? m’not gonna touch ya f’ya don’t want me to, but i can understand the bubble too.”

Frisk’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the words, staring at the skeleton monster. She must still be asleep, there was no way that had just happened. Everyone knew that monsters couldn’t talk. She squeaked in confusion, still staring but with less abject terror and more existential confusion.

“whassat look for? never seen a talkin’ skeleton, heh?” The giant folded its arms on the surface she was standing on and rested its skull on them, peering down at her from a less extreme height.

“What the hell is going on? I’m dead, right? I’m dead, or in a coma, or something, there’s a perfectly logical explanation as to why there’s a talking monster here when monsters can’t talk.” The girl rambled, running shaking hands through her hair as she dropped her gaze to the ground below her.

“mmm, nope, nope, and well. surprise?” It grinned at her, closing one eyesocket in a wink. “now, any other questions?”

The goat placed a hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, glancing down at it before looking at her. She flinched at the firm stare, feeling guilty as if she’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Hello, my child. I apologize for frightening you, it was not our intention.”

That was the nice, motherly voice she’d heard before. Just hearing it again made her tightly wound muscles relax, calmness seeping into her bones at the sound.

Then a sudden memory popped into her mind like a bubble.

“You ate me, how am I still alive?? And what the hell, if you can talk why hasn’t anyone ever mentioned that?”

The skeleton lifted a finger, waiting for her outburst to finish before replying.

“question number one, yes i did. monsters run entirely on magic, as opposed to you little humans who are mostly matter. we can’t get any energy from anything without a certain magic-matter ratio, which luckily excludes you guys. so we can eat you without causing any damage. and question number two, because most monsters don’t think of you guys as very intelligent either, so they don’t try to talk to humans. most monsters, meaning pretty much everyone except us three.”

She sat quietly, thinking over one part of the explanation that stuck out.

“Three?”

“Yes, child. Sans’s brother Papyrus is part of our little rebellion, however he is not here currently.” The goat answered.

“O-kay…” She was quiet for a few more seconds, before asking another question. “Why don’t monsters think we’re intelligent? We talk a lot, and built the Walls.”

The skeleton, who was apparently named Sans, stretched a hand out towards her, causing her to flinch back to the far side of her bubble. But he didn’t try to grab her or anything, just held his hand up next to her.

“kid, you’re smaller than my little finger. do you guys ever consider that maybe bugs can talk? it’s kinda the same thing.” He replied, wiggling his fingers for emphasis.

Frisk scowled at the comparison, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “We’re not bugs.”

“yeah, ya kinda are.” He was grinning again, holding his thumb and forefinger right in front of his face as he boxed her in. “so tiny.”

The goat had left her view a few minutes ago, which made Frisk feel slightly uncomfortable. She was all alone with Sans, who had apparently had no qualms about eating her - even if she was safe, it still didn’t seem like something anyone would do to another person.

And that feeling certainly didn’t go away when he leaned forward, grin widening until he reminded her of a cat in an old story she’d read.

“yer starin, pipsqueak. wanna take another look, all up close and personal? promise i don’t bite.”

Frisk shivered, already pressed back against her little bubble and helpless to move farther away as he yawned widely, giving her an excellent view of the inside of his mouth.

“really, ya shouldn’t tease me like this, tiny. all that red’s makin’ me think of ketchup, an’ i’m awfully hungry…” He loomed over the girl, grinning widely as she trembled in fear, her eyes wide and unblinking.

She jumped when he leaned back, laughing hard and wiping at his eyesockets. “aw man, ya should’a seen yer face! stars, that was hilarious, whew.”

Tears sprung up in her eyes as she realized it had just been a cruel joke, the fear still in her making her tremble as she tried to glare at him.

“Y-you can’t just do that to someone, that’s not funny! Do you know how many friends I’ve lost to that fate? Don’t joke about it!” She yelled, hands balled into fists in her fury.

Her outburst got an immediate reaction. He stopped laughing and stared at her, the white dots in his sockets vanishing into empty pools of black as a malevolent air settled in the room.

“who said i ever thought you were a person?” He said, voice low and threatening. She quailed, shrinking back from the frightening display before her. “the only reason yer not dead is because you spoke up for my bro an’ me, got it? yer kind has murdered people i care about, so don’t go thinking i have any kindness to spare for you. i can do whatever i want, whenever i want, and you can’t stop me, got it?”

She nodded quickly, hardly daring to breathe as he leaned back again, lights reappearing in his empty sockets.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone, even monsters… I only joined the military so I could help people.” The girl said quietly, shifting her wrists against the rope tied around them. It was tight, and chafed painfully against her skin, leaving angry red marks beneath it.

“yer different, i’ll give ya that. but yer still on thin ice - i only saved ya cause you were interesting.” He grumbled in reply, glancing over when she let out a pained hiss.

“here, lemme help with that.” She flinched away at his words, recoiling from his outstretched hand with fear evident in her stiff posture.

“m’not gonna hurt ya, an’ besides - yer gonna need both hands fer what i’ve got comin’.”

Reluctantly she lowered her shield, the shimmering red bubble fading into nothingness as she braced herself for whatever he was going to do.

He scooped her up in one hand, pulling her closer so he could focus on the knots that bound her.

Frisk stared up at the skeleton’s face with a cautious sort of curiosity. He was certainly interesting, and as she watched his face twisted into an irritated scowl as he tried to figure out how to get her free from the ropes.

A low growl startled her, making her jump and pull her arms away from his scrutiny. He glanced up at her face, pausing for a moment before gesturing for her to hold out her arms again.

“stupid thing… can’t hardly see the knot, don’t think i can untie it. are you gonna freak out if i try something else?”

Well that wasn’t ominous at all.

“Depends on what it is.” She replied, trying to read his expression and failing.

“m’gonna break the rope, okay? don’ worry, i’ll try not ta catch you in with it, but no promises.”

Reluctantly she agreed, watching as he held out one bony finger and carefully slid it between her arms. It felt like she was hugging a tree, her cheek pressed against the cool surface as she waited anxiously.

With a little snick, she felt the rope fall slack as he pulled his finger away from her, slicing clean through the rough knot. It fell away from her arms when she withdrew, rubbing the raw spots on her wrists and wincing.

“alright, tiny. lunchtime.”

Frisk blanched, staring at him with wide eyes at his words. He stared right back, unable to hold back a snicker.

“no, not you. yer hungry, right? s’been a long day, an’ tori’s an amazing cook.” Sans elaborated, looking at her in a silent query.

“O-oh… yeah, I- I am.” She stammered, ducking away from his stare.

“alright then, hold on.”

Maybe she could get used to this, she thought. A faint smile crossed her face when she smelled what the goat - Tori, apparently - had made.

Maybe she could.

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Chapter 10: Wyvern Tor

“Your punishment for the actions taken today will be significant and swift. You are hereby banned from the arena, and you will be expelled from the walls of this city.” “Damn your consequences! I am here for victory, and you have stolen it from me!” “We have rules you must abide by.” “I will have my justice and vengeance. I swear my life on this.”

As I awoke, the words of a memory reeling in my head, I could see my effects in the room sustained by the morning air. The night hung on my conscious person, and I arose to greet the day.

My hair was starting to fray and crosshatch from its standard curtain of poise, and my personal opinion was the sooner I could find a measure of peace, the sooner I could attend to my appearance once more. Somehow never to know peace in the traditional sense again, I heard a clatter and a boom from below my location. I could only guess to the reason, and I dressed and descended.

In the tavern’s main room, Urnig had awoken and in a fit of action was eyeing up a half-orc, who was acting in earnest. In a ceremonial beating of the chest, Urnig challenged the half-orc to a contest of might. They had locked arms in a test of strength, only for Urnig to find himself clocked upside the head and driven into the floor.Epide and Artemis sat off to the side with breakfast cheering on the scrum as Fardahr dug into his plate of humble meats. The barkeep was in a row over this impromptu melee, crying out,“Why must you have this dispute in my bar? Can’t this be held outside?”

In a moment of lucidity, I decided against involving myself with the hoi polloi, lest I suffer a deck against the cheek. I walked towards the front of the inn and tried to redirect the poor barkeep’s attention with a nonemotional response.“Just allow them to have this moment, darling. Now, onto breakfast. I think a coffee and... perhaps a light serving of bread.”

The barkeep only shook his head in disbelief, and turned to his work. As I proceeded to survey the ongoing fight, Urnig went for another attack. The half-orc blocked heartily again, and ended it with a punctuated blow. Both Epide and Artemis were stunned that Urnig, the mountainous sorcerer whose violence met no quarter, was fell by this newcomer. I walked over, silver tongue at the ready, to engage with our guest.

“My, my. Quite the showing, there. Absolutely powerful. The name is Tomera Sange. And what might your name be?” “Rokk” “Pleasure to meet you, kind sir. I must ask, however... why did you choose to fight our friend?” “Challenged me” “I see, I see. I must ask, out of sheer curiosity, what your purpose is in Phandalin.” “Lord’s Alliance sent me. I’m your backup.”

A chill and sudden flattening of mood swept though me in a perhaps comedic sense. While I did find another ally in our party perfectly acceptable, to think the Alliance was growing tired of our supposed lack of results. Perhaps they were worried that Glasstaff’s betrayal might occur once more. Perhaps they were still concerned about the safety of Gundren, whose location still evaded us. Perhaps Sildar had been so concerned with other incidents that his report read in listed form cut down to only needed details, like the events of a warfront, and failed to acknowledge we might have no need for backup.

I kept a diplomatic face. “Ah, yes. The Lord’s Alliance! Wonderful, darling. As a representative, I will see fit that you are acquainted well into our group.”

Rokk only nodded in curt acknowledgement and sat down with Artemis and Epide. Urnig, still reeling from the fight, stood up and dusted himself off, content with the results. At this time, Aurora joined us downstairs. With the group rejoined, we greeted our newest company member:

ROKK, the Half-Orc Fighter. He wielded a wooden club with a measure of unbridled confidence, and possessed a fighting style quite unlike mine. A brutish and physically taxing art, he seemed more adept at taking blows than most of my compatriots, let alone my own frame. While we were deciding towards our day’s itinerary, Artemis took a vested interest in talking with him, wanting to know of his exploits.

We sought out the decision for our next exploit. Given we weren’t any closer to discovering the location of Wave Echo Cave, and a travel towards Thundertree seemed like it could wait for us, we agreed that clearing the Triboar Trail would do us and Phandalin the most good. The seasons were turning a colder sorts, and soon winter would come to the continent.

As I examined a map of the Sword Coast, I realized this would be quite advantageous for my reputation. Clearing the Triboar Trail would allow supplies to flow between the North and East and Neverwinter, and in addition give the chieftain of Triboar more weight in the continent’s economy by superseding the high and low Dessarin Valley and Long Trail via the town of Beliard, another frontier town even smaller than Phandalin. Having convened with Triboar’s leader, this would give me a great reputation of one who secured the trade routes.

We set off for town and upon closer examination of the distance to travel, it would take roughly a half day’s travel to the settlement of Wyvern Tor, where most activity was occurring on the trail.

Aurora made the initial suggestion. “Perhaps it would be a boon for our purposes to rent a team of horses and cart for travel. If we come across a lode or treasure.” “So, a visit to Barthen’s Provisions before we leave?” “Would be in our favor.”

As we approached the storehouse, the workers were hard pressed at work unloading supplies for the town, having no more concern for raids by the Redbrands. Barthen was in his store when we arrived. “Aye, welcome back! I’d like to thank you again for your work on the town. You’ve given me and a great deal of people a good boost of confidence. Now, what will you be needin’ today?” Aurora handled the transaction.“We are in the need of a team of horses and a cart to pull. Off to Wyvern Tor to halt the orc raids, and we might happen across some interesting pieces. At the very least, we’ll be given transportation.” “Smart on you to do that. I’ll have the lads hitch a team for you, andthat’d run you... twenty gold to rent. In addition, I’d expect additional fees in the case of damages to the cart or horses. Bottom line and all that.” “Of course.” Aurora looked back to me with a knowing stare, and it occurred to me we were in the most advantageous position financially to rent the cart. We payed our share, and awaited outside for the cart.

The midday sun hung high above the town as we set off North. At the helm was Fardahr, driving the horses. Urnig and Rokk took to covering the sides of the cart. Epide, Artemis, Aurora, and I sat in back. I thought back to my first travels toward Phandalin, nearly a week’s time removed from my current situation. And yet, the ease of the ride brought back a similar fondness. The sun and peace let me rest my eyes for a moment.

As we neared the Wyvern Tor, the cart jolted to a halt. I was awoken to the sight of Fardahr looking off in the distance. “What’s the matter, Fardahr?” “Can’t tell. I’m seeing odd movement up ahead.”

I readied my sword in preparation, only to be nearly thrown from the cart as the horses bucked. Something terrified the creatures and the cart took off. Fardahr still at the helm, I had to make a quick decision, and in the confusion I jumped from the wagon. Thinking the wooded area would have a measure of soft loam, I was immediately hoist by my hubris as the ground gave way to a hardened soil. My shoulder hit the ground with a thud and I tried to gingerly ascend to my feet. As I tried to scan for what Fardahr had detected, I could see in the tree line to the left of the road that weapons had been drawn.

As I ran ahead, rapier drawn, I could see Urnig and Artemis pinned in a swarm of vile creatures. They appeared as giant insects, flying and encircling with rapidly beating wings and bodies filled with claret, a long and sharp proboscis the instrument of torture. Aurora had taken her harp from her side and dipped behind a covering in preparation to unleash her magic. Seeing me, she exclaimed,“What a situation we’ve found ourselves in!” I couldn’t agree more, as several of the vermin flew into our vicinity.

From behind, Fardahr wielded his crossbow and attempted to catch one of them before it collided with us. The bowstring snapped with authority, but the arrow soared wide, as the insects continued on our trajectory. Aurora met one in combat, but was quickly stabbed through the arm.

As I set my eyes on one of the smaller blights, the creature lost its height and collapsed to the ground. Turning about, I could see a familiar figure standing no more than six inches tall, floating in a bag of detritus and odors. Epide had cast a spell of sleep on the local fauna, making our task that much easier. Unfortunately, this had the added consequence of putting Fardahr immediately out of commission. This matter would have to be attended to before our eventual conquest against the orc population.

Having seen another of the flying creatures darting into my vision, I stuck the rapier through its carapace, instantly dispatching the creature. It was in this sudden attempt at skewering my foe I remembered the creature was filled to the brim with the blood and sinew of local creatures, and my blade was immediately coated with the viscous red. Gently, I set about removing the still twitching corpse from its perch, which proved simple given the base anatomy of this particular specimen. Still, the effort was disgusting, and I would need to clean my blade in the aftermath.

As the fight progressed, I could see Rokk pulling his measure of the fight. With a unheard-of measure of dexterity, he plucked one of the insects from mid-air and proceeded to bash it into a nearby tree. The resulting mess caused that portion of the field to be drenched in claret.

In this moment, I sought to help Aurora with the creature that had stabbed her through, but before I could react, she had used her rapier to silence the creature. With a taut and simple“No”, acknowledging the corpse that lay at her feet, she rose, ready to dive back into the fray.

Urnig, seeing his sparring partner take the opportunity to destroy one of the insects with brute force, thought it fair to in turn unleash his magic savagery on one of the insects that had flown into his range. With a fist that rivaled my own skull in size, he grabbed the creature, and cast a blast of magic, slamming the beast over his knee and producing a similar explosion of blood that coated his entire body. Perhaps my time with Urnig had dulled my senses to abhorrent violence, or perhaps I was allowed predisposition, as such from my history of battle, but a peculiar sense of calm washed over my person knowing his simple savagery might win us the day.

Our halfling companion Artemis sought out one of the insects in the swarm she was entangled in and with a further brutal showing used her own rapier to cleave one of them in twain. This was further compiled upon as she used her boot to grind the body into the ground, effectively rendering any postmortem movement silent.

With most of the assault dispersed, Epide took this time to attempt to wake the sleeping Fardahr. The dwarf slept fitfully, a loud commotion coming from his person. A few slaps across the face proved incapable of rousing the man, so Epide, in a fit of complete madness from my perspective, dumped his floating bag of water, his method of transport and container of various corpse trophies, onto the sleeping victim. Fardahr arose from his sleep and immediately at the presence of the stench retched his breakfast twice over.

Epide was not complete with his effort of madness, as he began to run about, leaping onto one of the already dispatched insect and ripping its nose off in an effort to find a suitable weapon. This nose was, in essence, a shortsword to Epide, and I applaud his improvisation, but still condemn his method.

Having now reduced our quarry to two remaining foes, one of which remained asleep from Epide’s spell, I stepped toward the tree line and wielded my blade with a flourish to run the insect through. A costly mistake, as the blade fail to land the killing blow. Rokk, at this point next to my own person, to his chance to land the blow to conclude this fight. Unceremoniously, he missed the swing of his club, and we were both stunned in silence. Which gave way to a tirade of both Rokk and I unsure why this creature was not dead. Artemis, for her part, began rolling on the ground peeling with laughter at our misfortune. While I don’t recall what was said between Rokk and I, the resulting commotion might have been the triggering incident to cause what came next.

As Artemis lie in tears of joy over this sight of incompetence and Urnig dispatched another of the insects for good measure by slamming it into the same tree Rokk had previously used, a sudden rumble from the ground arose. In the woods to my left, the sound of a roar shook the air. It filled me with an oncoming sense of horror, as the very structure of my body was suddenly shaking with the reverberations of the air.

I turned to see a massive form rise out of the wood. I only had to notice the creature’s face to know what matter of violent beast had been summoned by the commotion. This was an owlbear, a creature born of the fiery imagination of lore and reality, a great beast that many knights of yore have slain and few have tamed. To now come upon its form was a measure of daunting I was not prepared to witness.

With a grown sense of immediacy, Fardahr loosed a bolt from his crossbow, only to see the projectile snap against the beak of the owlbear, doing no damage to the beast. If any result occurred, it was theowlbear’shumor becoming perturbed, and I found myself face to face with the creature.

Before I could make my attack against it, the owlbear reared back its claw and swung, connecting with my body. The two entry wounds where I had been impaled with javelins days earlier immediately opened, and as I was thrown against a tree, I could see my blood began to pool on my attire, the red staining my white under attire through. It took all of my fortitude to remain awake in this sense, as I saw the others begin to take their measures in retaliation.

Epide, though small in stature, raised his hands in defiance. Again, a vibration shook the area, as the ground turned in on itself. Below the owlbear, the earth became near impossible terrain, and Epide jumped for joy at the sight of the temporarily confused creature. Taking advantage of this distraction, Rokk took the chance to summon a well of energy and his eyes became a visage of death. With the fighting spirit of a whole regiment, he unleashed a vicious assault on the owlbear, yet the creature held firm.

As I roused myself to wake, I found myself cornered by the last of the insects, with the owlbear’s back turned. Were I to choose a target, it would have to be one that did not pose immediate threat to my wellbeing upon a strike. I lunged in desperation at the insect, as it dodged frightfully out of my grasp. I was beset by fear, violent and tremendous, and I stabbed further still at the owlbear. Again, no luck, and I felt my arm give way to intense pain. The only measure that remained was to flee from the melee in an act of desperation. As I ran in self-preservation, I felt the warm breath of the owlbear on my back, and was met with a stab of pain as the beak wrought itself into my back.

I was safe and away for the time being, but it was clear that I would by on death’s door if struck again. I collapsed to the ground, blood now seeping throughout my clothing. From afar, I only had time to see the hand of Aurora rise up through half-closed eyes, and I felt a burst of magic run through my person. One of assurance and protection, no doubt, but inherently still my being had been compromised. All i heard in my head, ringing like the bells of a cathedral.

I am a coward

I am a coward

I am a coward

I saw Aurora raise her hand again, this time in the direction of the owlbear. With a pluck of the strings, the beast burst into a conflagration. I could not appreciate this move fully, only feel the burning sear of the flames and the rancid smell of flesh and fur alight, only further choking my senses.

Fardahr dove beside me, and with a tuck and roll let loose another bolt towards the owlbear. Striking dead center in the face, the resulting spray of bodily fluids mingled with the flames, setting the face in a permanent shriek as the body collapsed and lay still. I hadn’t the will to cheer or whoop in excitement.Aurora immediately extinguished the fire and set about the body along with Epide. He later gathered the corpses of the insects for his vile machinations.

As I lay there, blood still pooling about me, I felt the warm touch of a guiding hand. I was not unconscious but still beyond any measure of good health, and the divine spell Fardahr cast on me aroused me from my state. My blood began to retreat back into my person, and my wounds were sealed in a process that despite its effect did not hurt or cut with pain. I sat up, with Fardahr holding my shoulder.“You gave me a scare, young man. Are you okay?”

I shook my head awake, my hair a tangled mess getting into my eyes.“I am now. Thank you, Fardahr.” I stood up, groggy and unstable, but better still. Patting his shoulder in acknowledgment of service, I stood up and made my way back to the horse cart. Only to hear further retching from behind me.

Aurora was beside herself with joy at the sight of an intact owlbear. I could see her eyes alight with glee at the prospect of the clothes this pelt would divine. The feathers adorning the arms and legs were still in beautiful condition as adornments. Even the teeth could be split, separated, dried, and crafted into ivory jewelry of untold wealth. I am only keen to this as Aurora began listing these elements shortly after we loaded its corpse into the horse cart, a bit of mania overtaking her eyes in anticipation for its dissection. We were slower going, and it only aided my situation as I still felt a measure of pain while walking. At some point, we halted and I was loaded onto the driver’s perch with Fardahr, allowed to rest and recoup. It was still fitful, having to sleep some time next to the creature that nearly ended my corporeal existence.

The Wyvern Tor itself is a crevasse in the hills of the Triboar Trail, and despite utilizing this route in the tour towards Neverwinter, my caravan had stayed north of the locale, having been alerted previously by members of Triboar of the orc camp. The natural feature has held many different hosts of fauna, given it’s advantageous position when seen from the trail. As we neared the location of the tor, I first smelled the telltale signs of a campfire. We could hear two orcs posted as guards towards the mouth of a cave, with others still in the open. I received in my mind a flash of the goblin outcropping that began our time in service.

By the time the cart stopped some distance away, my injuries had been attended to, as had Aurora and Urnig. While I was clearly in better health, I couldn’t shake the feeling of horror the owlbear had beset upon me. I had never seen a beast as large nor as powerful in combat. I was deemed only useful in duels of honor and fairness. Surely, I had realize the world did not allow for such contests consistently. Surely. Yet, in the deepest hole of my mind, I felt betrayed by this turn of events and fearful still for my life.

We huddled in planning, and agreed Artemis would take the first stab at the orcs, in both a figurative and literal sense. Her size and speed combined with precision would allow a swift attack and retreat back into our party’s numbers. We lie in wait, preparing our methods of war, as Artemis clutched her daggers with pause. Then, she was off.

Across the field she tore through the grass, faster than anyone had anticipated. Rounding the circumference of the open field against the trees, she rounded the final corner and went for the orc guard on the right. In a flash, she slammed headfirst into it and cut the throat, an instant and painless death. Further still, she marked the other guard and again tore into it, a bass cry of pain ringing through the air. With a dash back, she had given us the element of surprise.

With a ravenous want, Epide saw the corpse and began to run towards it across the ground. The blood that had sprayed from the orc’s body apparently was enough to distract him, as he bathed in it like a duck bathes in a lake. Despite this horrid distraction, he still summoned the wherewithal to again form the ground anew, creating a pitfall that trapped one of the orcs.

Fardahr, having reconstituted himself from retching, began to channel a spell with a mischievous look on his face. A form of light took shape on front of him, but suddenly a look of frustration came across his demeanor. Having resigned himself, almost as if the god of his dominion came to warn against a cruel prank, he concentrated further and produced an iron brand, still wielding with an air of confidence. I was confused by the sight, but was quickly made aware of the power of a holy weapon as Fardahr hurled it towards a nearby orc, striking it clean.

Artemis, having set herself once more towards the orcs, struck the trapped orc and produced a rude gesture in its direction. Against the field, I could see more and more a chaotic, ramshackle fighting. I was still in pain. I was still terrified of the scene before me. But again, I felt magic turn to me, as Aurora cast a spell against me. I was grateful for her art, and only wished I could repay in kind her help. I grasped my bow and arrow and took aim at an orc, but my hand slipped in disorientation, ricocheting off the brand. I was lost.

Artemis again was engaged in combat, dodging and weaving with precision, all strikes against her missed.

I’m back where I started.

Fardahr took a shot and found his mark.

Five years alone, talent wasted.

Rokk, without mercy, decapitated an orc and let a war cry.

I’ll just hope to fire my bow from afar and not get hit. This accursed weapon. It’s brought me nothing but strife.

As it looked like my group of fellow travelers were on the cusp of turning the fight and seizing victory, we were stunned to silence as a mighty roar escaped the cave. From inside, only darkness permeated. Only dank and must. Only sound escaped the cave.

And then it came.

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