#You have no idea how much the hunter going through scout training without magic means to me

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

Love how the entirety of the Hunter fandom heard of the whole mountain challenge and immediately said: Hunter crushed that challenge. Hunter did that challenge as a child and he absolutely killed it. Hunter, the magicless half- a- witch, took the record that Lilith Clawthorne made, Lilith Clawthorne, head of the Emperor's coven, one of the most powerful witches alive, and snapped that record in half, because he had to and because he was stronger than everyone thought and because he didn't take no for an answer.

And I love everyone for that.

#the owl house #hunter the golden guard #Toh #hunter toh #owl house #toh hunter #I am so normal about him like super duper normal #I just love him okay #hunter the owl house #You have no idea how much the hunter going through scout training without magic means to me #He doesn't have magic #Do you know what he must have learned in order to adapt? To grow? To be as good as everything else and then even better? #Listen no one can tell me golden guard was an easy job do you SEE his eye bags

[nerdythebard]

#11: Gilan [Ranger's Apprentice]

Hello there!

NO! ...Not yet. One day, maybe.

Anyway, today we're building Gilan, a Rangers from the fantastic Ranger's Apprentice series by John Flanagan. This request was made by my best friend, @iximaz. They sure know I love challenges. Now, let's see if I can surprise them with this build.

Next Time: The Question... the First Question, the oldest question in the universe, that must never be answered, hidden in plain sight!

Now, what do we need to make Gilan work?

Silent & Deadly: Every Ranger's ultimate party trick. They are able to move in complete silence and blend into the environment so well, people tell stories about their supernatural powers... Rangers are basically Medieval ninjas, and Gilan was stated to be the best of them all at Unseen Movement.

Look at my Horse: All Rangers have a special, almost familiar-like bond with their mounts. We shall give Gilan a horse, or at the very least skills to obtain and maintain a horse.

Brains & Brawn: Rangers are trained in a large variety of topics, ranging (heh) from survival and archery to cooking and sewing. We need to be a little skill monkey.

---

Gilan is a Human (although a Tabaxi would also work if you're feeling adventurous). As always, pick a Variant option, it's just better. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice, go for Dexterity and Wisdom. We also learn Common and one language of our choice, one skill of our choice (Investigation), and we can take a feat. Skulker works fantastically for sneaky Rangers; we can hide in lightly obscured places, missing an attack doesn't reveal our hiding spot, and we don't get a disadvantage on Perception checks in dim light.

Gilan is the son of one of Araluen's most respected knights, but he himself doesn't seem to use his position and family privilege enough to give him the Noble background. Instead, let's focus on his Ranger career and make him the Folk Hero. This background gives us proficiency in Animal Handling and Survival, proficiency with land vehicles (carriages, wagons, etc.) and one set of artisan's tools (woodcarver's tools let us create our own arrows), and we get the Rustic Hospitality feature; if we're good to common folk, we can find a place to sleep or hide in their settlements.

ABILITY SCORES

Dexterity is our highest score, we're sneaky and we're accurate with a bow. Follow that up with Constitution, we need endurance for long travels. Wisdom is next, almost all of our knowledge is practical street-smarts and survival techniques.

Next is Charisma, we've managed to charm at least one lucky lady, who knows who else fell for Gilan (fan-fiction writers do!). Strength is a little lower than I want it to be, especially since we are trained in swordsmanship. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence - we're not stupid, we just need other abilities more.

CLASS

Level 1 - Ranger: Unsurprisingly, we start with Ranger (Revised). Our Hit Die is a d10, we get [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiency with light armour, medium armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. Standard leather armour sounds like the right choice for a Ranger, and we can't forget about a bow, daggers, throwing knives (here: darts) and - in Gilan's case - a sword. Our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity, and we get to choose three class skills: let's go for Insight, Perception, and Stealth.

We start off this class by choosing our Favoured Enemy: beasts, fey, humanoids, monstrosities, or undead. We get +2 to damage rolls against our chosen type, as well as an advantage on Survival check when tracking them and Intelligence check when recalling information about them. We also learn one language of our choice.

The Natural Explorer feature grants us several benefits when exploring the wilderness:

We no longer suffer from difficult terrain;

We have an advantage on initiative rolls;

On our first combat turn, we have an advantage against a creature that hadn't made its move yet.

Additionally, if we're travelling for longer than 1 hour:

Difficult terrain doesn't slow the group's travel time;

The group cannot become lost, unless via magical means;

The group cannot be surprised, even if engaged in an activity (foraging, tracking, etc.);

If we move by ourselves, we can move stealthily at a normal pace;

When we forage, we find twice as much food;

While tracking other creatures, we also learn their exact number, size, and how long ago they passed through the area we're currently at.

Level 2 - Ranger: At this level, we get to choose our Fighting Style, and Archery is a no-brainer, it's the preferred combat option of all RA Rangers. We get a +2 bonus to all attack rolls we make with our ranged weapons.

Although RA Rangers don't use magic, D&D Rangers get access to Spellcasting. Wisdom is our spellcasting ability, we get no cantrips, and we begin with two 1st-level spell slots:

Beast Bond is a divination spell that creates an empathic bond between us and a beast of our choice, like a horse. For 10 minutes (concentration), we can communicate telepathically with our beast, and it is able to reply with simple emotions and concepts that we understand. The beast also gets an advantage on attack rolls against any creature within 5 feet of us. Just remember the password.

Hunter's Mark makes us focus our attention on a particular target. For 1 hour (concentration), you deal extra 1d6 damage to the marked creature, and we have an advantage on Perception and Survival checks related to tracking and finding it. If the marked target dies before the spell ends, we can use a bonus action to mark a new creature.

Level 3 - Ranger: We gain the Primeval Awareness feature, which lets us communicate simple concepts and ideas with beasts around us. We learn of the beast's emotional state, mood, and intent, which might save us from a fight.

Additionally, we can spend 1 minute concentrating, and detect if our Favoured Enemy type is somewhere within 5 miles of us. We learn the enemy numbers, presence, and the general direction from us.

This is also where we pick our subclass, our Ranger Conclave. For quiet and stealthy Rangers, who keep mostly to the shadows and avoid open conflicts, the Gloom Stalker Conclave works best. First, we learn the Disguise Self spell, which lets us change our appearance for 1 hour. We also gain the Dread Ambusher feature, we can get our Wisdom modifier added to our Initiative roll. At the start of our first turn, our ground speed increases by 10 feet and lasts so until the end of that turn. If we make an Attack during that turn, we can make one additional Attack. If that attack hits, the target takes extra 1d8 damage. Finally, we get Umbral Sight, which grants us 60 feet of darkvision. We are also invisible to creatures with darkvision if we're moving in the darkness.

We gain one more 1st-level spell: Snare utilizes 25 feet of rope to create a concealed trap that lasts for 8 hours. A creature that walks into the radius of the trap must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw, or be hoisted 3 feet in the air and restrained until the spell ends.

Level 4 - Ranger: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement! Let's put two points into Dexterity, to get it maxed out ASAP.

Level 5 - Ranger: From our subclass, we get the Extra Attack. This lets us attack twice during one Attack action.

We get another spell from our Gloom Stalker Magic table: Rope Trick uses at least 60 feet of rope to create an extradimensional space that fits up to eight Medium-sized creatures for 1 hour. Attacks and spells cannot reach the space, but anyone inside it can observe the surrounding area.

We also unlock 2nd-level spells: Pass Without Trace enhances our stealth skills for 1 hour (concentration). For the duration, each creature within 30 feet from us that we choose gets a +10 to their Stealth checks and cannot be traced via magical means.

Level 6 - Rogue: Jumping ships for the rest of the build. When multiclassing into Rogue, we gain proficiencies with light armour (got it already), thieves' tools, and we get to choose one class skill; let's get Acrobatics.

1st-level Rogues begin with Expertise. We select two skills and double our proficiency bonus (NOT modifier) for checks involving those. Stealth and Perception are the skills every RA Ranger must hone. We also learn Thieves' Cant, a system of phrases/gestures/sounds used by Rogues in their line of work. Additionally, the Sneak Attack feature gives us extra 1d6 damage to any creature we have an advantage against. We don't have to get an advantage to roll Sneak Attack if another enemy of our target is within 5 feet of it, or the target is incapacitated.

Level 7 - Rogue: At this level, we gain Cunning Action, which is a series of actions we can use as a bonus action on our turn. These include Dash, Disengage, Hide, and Aim (if you include Unearthed Arcana: Class Feature Variants).

Level 8 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack die increases to 2d6. We also get to choose our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, there is no Ranger-like subclass for a Rogue, but I did mention that RA Rogues were basically ninjas, right? The Scout Archetype got us covered! This stealth-and-survival subclass gives us two features at the start: Skirmisher makes us very difficult to pin down, letting us move up to half of our ground speed when the enemy ends its turn within 5 feet of us, and not provoke an opportunity attack. Survivalist gives us proficiency in Nature and Survival skills. Since we already have the latter, our proficiency bonus is doubled for Survival checks.

Level 9 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Once again, let's increase our Dexterity to get it to 20.

Level 10 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack die once again increases, this time to 3d6. At this level, we gain Uncanny Dodge. When an attacker that we can see hits us with an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage.

Level 11 - Rogue: We get another Expertise option. Once again, we have a choice between two skills, or one skill and our thieves' tools. Let's go for Insight and Acrobatics.

Level 12 - Rogue: At this level, we get Evasion. This incredibly useful feature allows us to nimble our way out of some AoE effects, such as the Fireball spell. When we are forced to make a Dexterity saving throw that would result in taking half damage on a successful one, we take no damage is we pass and half damage if we fail.

Our Sneak Attack die also improves to 4d6.

Level 13 - Rogue: Another level, another ASI. This time, let's raise our Intelligence by two points, to get rid of the negative modifier.

Level 14 - Rogue: We get another subclass upgrade. Superior Mobility increases our ground speed by 10 feet.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 5d6.

Level 15 - Rogue: Once again, we get an ASI. Let's put one point into Strength and one into Intelligence.

Level 16 - Rogue: Our skill increase with Reliable Talent. From this point onwards, we cannot roll lower than 10 when making checks for skills we are proficient in.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 6d6.

Level 17 - Rogue: Time for the final ASI of the build, to round up the odd numbers, raise up Strength and Intelligence once again.

Level 18 - Rogue: This time, we get the final subclass upgrade of the build. Ambush Master grants us an advantage on our Initiative rolls. Additionally, the first creature we hit during our first combat round becomes easier to hit; all attacks against it are made with an advantage until the end of our next round.

Our Sneak Attack die becomes 7d6.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our senses are so sharp at this point, we don't even need sight. With Blindsense, we can detect creatures within 10 feet of us, even if they are hiding or invisible.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our capstone is Rogue 15 and the Slippery Mind feature, which grants us proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Finally, our Sneak Attack die becomes 8d6.

---

And that's Gilan the Ranger. Let's see what we created:

First of all, we're an absolute legend when it comes to unseen movement and sneaking around. With the Skulker feat, Expertise in Stealth, Pass Without Trace spell, and Reliable Talent we cannot roll lower than 27! We have darkvision and blindsense, which is rare for a human, and we can hide from other creatures with darkvision. We have a large repertoire of skills we're proficient with, and with a +7 to initiative, we're definitely be somewhere in the front of turn order.

Unfortunately, our sword skills are pretty neglected, even with a +7 to attack and damage rolls. Extra Attack helps out slightly, though. Our AC is 16, and we have 149 Hit Points on average. Our Intelligence and Charisma are also pretty low, so saving throws on those abilities might be tricky.

---

Anyway, that's it for Gilan. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you next time... for a very... difficult build.

- Nerdy out!

#d&d #dnd 5e #dungeons and dragons #character building #ranger's apprentice #ra #gilan #ranger #gloom stalker #rogue #scout #araluen

[allicekitty13]

Daughter Of The Moon: Chapter 3

Read On Ao3

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Jasper led Alice down a long hall lit only by candelabras that hung from the walls. She spotted various paintings of men and women, including one of Esme and a large group portrait featuring all of the faces she'd seen in the house and then some. All the figures donned black clothing with their head covered in either a hat or hoods. It had taken her a moment to register what and who she was looking at because of this. A woman in the back row of the portrait seemed eerily familiar. However, Jasper didn't give her much time to examine the decor, gently explaining there would be time for a tour later as he placed a hand on her back, guiding her further down the hall. The pair descended a staircase and ventured outdoors.

The garden they entered was merely a small portion of a large expansive outdoor space. Gorgeous arrangements of flowers decorated every corner, and at the center, a small pond with an ornate fountain decorated in crystals sat in the center. Twinkling lights with no discernable source floating around the fountain illuminated the area, effectively creating a majestic atmosphere and filling Alice with a sense of wonder.

"It's a simple light spell," Jasper spoke up, causing Alice to look away from the orbs to see him standing sheepishly off to the side, still with that nervous expression. "I could teach you if you'd like."

"You'd do that?" She turned fully to face the man, an elated smile bursting across her face. She hadn't expected him to be so immediately open, she'd hoped for guidance, of course, but his offering to teach her something when they'd hardly spoken yet had her so excited Alice felt as though she could float.

"Yeah, of course." He responded, smiling at her warmly, seeming to relax slightly as he took a few steps closer to her position near the lights. However, he suddenly stopped in his tracks turning around to face the house with an annoyed glare. Following his gaze to a window on the second floor, Alice was able to spot Emmett, the blonde woman from earlier, and a red-headed girl squeezed together intently, watching the pair in the garden below.

Jasper, who was now shaking his head at the group, raised a hand, flicking his wrist to the side, causing the curtains to slam shut in the faces of their onlookers.

"So, what was that all about?" Alice asked, amused by the display.

"Some of the members of this coven can be a bit nosey."

"Oh," She laughed a bit uncomfortably, "What exactly were they expecting to see?"

Jasper stiffened at the question reverting to the rigid nervous position he'd held before their short interaction over the lights. A light pink tinge began to spread across his cheeks as he stared intently at the fountain, spraying water over the pond. "So," He finally spoke after a moment, clearly looking to change the subject. "Emmett said you had some questions for me?"

"Oh!" Alice was quickly reminded of the entire reason she was there in the first place. It had been so easy to forget once out in the garden, surrounded by such wonder and beauty. It had felt natural, as though this was where she was meant to be. Standing there, watching the lights with Jasper, should have been overwhelming; it should have been a complete culture shock. She should have felt starstruck around the man, she had at first back in the lounge with Esme. But those feelings had melted away quickly, leaving Alice feeling at ease. Of course, at some point, though, they had to get down to business.

"Emmett thought maybe you would have some ideas on how I could safely practice and develop my magic safely... considering my situation." Alice trailed off at the end of the sentence in confusion. Jasper looked at her with pity, a sympathetic sadness clouding his green eyes.

"He didn't tell you, did he." It came as a resigned statement rather than a question. Alice shook her head slowly, indicating that whatever it was Emmett was meant to tell her had been a subject he'd avoided.

"Of course he didn't," Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Leave it to the class clown to avoid the big blows."

A sinking feeling began to develop in the pit of Alice's stomach as she took in Jasper's stance, as well as his tone, both conveying the message that whatever he had to tell her wasn't good news. "What, um... What do you mean?" Her voice came out shaky, fearful of whatever information the man was about to drop.

Taking in a deep breath, Jasper closed his eyes as he thought over how to break the news delicately; he seemed to arrive at a conclusion as he nodded at a marble bench facing the fountain indicating that Alice should take a seat. Feeling woozy, she quickly obliged. "What do they say about me?" He opened, looking down at her tentatively from his still standing position, his posture straight hands clasped behind his back. "I'm assuming my escape caused enough of a commotion to reach the top of the chain."

"Yeah, you're um... kind of a big deal. Like I legitimately had an entire lecture in class about you yesterday. You're on the most wanted witches list, do not approach status. And I..." She hesitated, wondering if bringing up Maria was a bad decision, not wanting to reopen old wounds. Yet, she wanted to be honest, to lay all her cards on the table. "I know Maria personally."

Jasper looked away from her, fear in his eyes at the mention of the name. "Hey no, see, here's the thing." She moved her hair so that it covered only her right shoulder, exposing her witch's mark. She pointed to it as she continued. "This thing gives me a unique perspective. I've always wondered what your side of the story is... I mean..." A blush swept over her cheeks, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. "If you're willing to share, of course."

"I hale from the south," He began, leaving no question as to his willingness to share. "I'm sure you've been taught about the state of things in that region."

Jasper looked to Alice as though questioning if more explanation on that statement would be necessary. Alice nodded to indicate that she knew very well what life for a witch hunter was like in the southern portion of the country. At the academy, geography was less of a class on the layout of the world and more and instruction on the practices of the various hunter's associations. Living in Salam, where their headquarters were located, as well as being the leader's daughter, allowed Alice even more insight.

Alice had no questions about the intensity of the situation. She was fully aware that during the Salem witch trials, while most accusations were false, vast amounts of actual witches fled south for safety. Of course, it hadn't taken long for hunters to catch on, taking the battle with them and leaving what history knew of the situation in Massachusetts.

In the present day, it was still a bloodbath, daily casualties occurring on both sides. Hunters in the region were highly skilled, applied vigorous training in their academies, and only accepting the highest-scoring applicants to their ranks. Leader's in those states going so far as to keep an eye on grades nationwide. Even at her young age, Alice's own sister was being scouted for a position in Lousiana at the heart of the conflict.

The nod seemed to be sufficient information for Jasper as he continued recounting his tale. "My mark appeared in my pre-teen years, on my shoulder. I thought I was lucky; it's an easy enough place to keep it hidden. I decided to play my cards carefully, continuing to train to the best of my ability until I could make an escape. I focused all my energy on being at the top of my class, partly to prevent suspicion as well as to have an edge in defending myself were I ever found out."

Jasper paused a moment, staring intently into Alice's eyes as though he wanted to drive the next points of the story home. "I'm glad I did because one day, during a particularly intense sparring match, my shirt ripped, revealing my mark. The very  second  everyone in the room realized what they were seeing, I was immediately, viciously attacked. My own friends, my  family...  The hunter's creed runs thicker than blood; it doesn't matter to them who you are, what kind of person you are. If you have the mark, they  will  kill you."

Alice felt her throat tighten as realization took hold. Jasper didn't need to continue, Alice was a quick learner, and his point was clear. Sooner or later, she would slip up, be it carelessness or an event outside her control, whether it be carelessness or an event outside her control. It wasn't of a question of if she would be found out. It was a question of  when.  Considering her grades and resulting lack of combat skills, she would be a goner.

"I have to leave," She looked up at him. "I have to leave as soon as possible, don't I."

"For what it's worth," His words came with sincere sympathy, "I'm sorry. I know what it's like to leave your entire world behind."

Alice leaned back against the bench, suddenly feeling woozy; she'd known what Jasper had meant with his story. Yet to hear it confirmed had caused her to feel like the world was spinning out from under her. Leaving had been her dream for so long, but now it was all happening so fast. There were so many questions floating through her mind flittering through so fast she struggled to focus on just one. How could she do this safely? What was she supposed to do? Would Esme allow Alice into her coven, or would she have to strike it out on her own. Being associated with Edgar made Alice a relatively prominent figure; people would come looking for her.

Alice hadn't realized she was crying until she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder in a sort of half-hug. "Hey," She looked up to see Jasper had taken a seat next to her on the bench. "It's going to be okay. I know it's terrifying; I've done it before. But we're going to make a plan we'll get you out safely without a fight. I promise."

"We?"

"Alice," He chuckled lightly, a comforting sound that Alice couldn't help but smile at despite everything. "You're one of us. Esme would never leave a witch behind, and I would never want to see you go through what I did. I was lucky; most of us born into the society don't make it out. But I swear to you I'm not going to let that be you."

"Thank you," Alice choked out between shaking breaths as she wiped at her tears with the long sleeves of her sweater. She was still terrified, but Jasper's tone and presence made her feel safer, more calm. She may have only just met the man, but she believed every word he uttered. "How do we move forward? Where do we go from here?"

"Well, let's start by introducing you to your new brothers and sisters?" Jasper removed his arm from where it rested around Alice's shoulder, and she found herself immediately missing his warmth and held out a hand that she gladly took.

Jasper led her back inside, never releasing her hand as he guided her through the main rooms of the enormous house. Inside a room on the ground floor, they found Emmett sitting on a couch with the blonde woman who was disinterestedly watching him play video games. Upon their entrance, Emmett paused his game and stood to offer Alice a hug. She released Jasper's hand for the first time since taking it in the garden to accept the sign of affection from the man who had quickly become her friend.

The blonde woman was quick to introduce herself as Rosalie, Esme's apprentice who would take over the duties as coven leader one day. Emmett went on to make sure Alice was okay after her conversation with Jasper in the garden knowing full well the subject matter discussed. Their conversation was cut short by Jasper, who had been having a silent discussion with Rosalie held only via facial expressions and eye-contact.

"We should move on with the tour Alice." The tall man spoke in a tone of mild annoyance, reaching once again for Alice's hand. The small action causing Rosalie to let out an exasperated huff as she turned back to Emmett and his playthrough of Skyrim.

Jasper lead her back into the hallway, remaining quiet and tense as indicated by the slight scowl he now wore. Alice wanted to ask about his interaction with Rosalie, wondering why it had left him in such a sour mood. She felt, though, that it was none of her business as she had only just met the man. It wasn't her place to go prying into his personal matters, especially when he'd already been so forthcoming about his past. So she bit her tongue as she thought about the nervous glances the man had kept sending her way throughout the duration of that silent conversation.

"You alright?" Jasper asked, pulling Alice from her curious thoughts. He'd halted their tour in front of yet another of the numerous doors of the enormous house. "You've been quiet, and you're holding my hand like a vice."

"Just overwhelmed." She responded, trying to keep her voice light. Jasper didn't need to know she had been mentally analyzing his prior interaction with Rosalie. Besides, her response was partially truthful. The night had been quite a lot to take in.

"We can do this another time... if you want to go back home and process all of this."

"No, I'll be fine. The sooner we get through everything the better right? Emergency evacuation plans and all that."

Jasper nodded in silent agreement and proceeded to guide her through the door he'd stopped in front of. On the other side was a large well-stocked kitchen lit brightly by the shining in through large floor to ceiling glass windows overlooking the well cared for garden Alice and Jasper had been sitting in earlier in the evening. Standing at a granite counter, chopping vegetables, stood a smiling blonde man.

"Carlisle," Jasper nodded to the man, something Alice was beginning to notice was a common habit of his. "Meet Alice."

The man, Carlisle apparently, wiped his hands on a nearby towel before crossing the room to shake her hand. "I'm happy to finally make your acquaintance Miss Brandon.

"Carlisle is Esme's husband," Jasper informed. "He's also an expert in healing magic."

"I would love to learn more about that subject someday, sir."

"Please, Alice, call me Carlisle; we're all family here. As much as I'd like to sit down and get to know you, I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Once you're more settled, I would be glad to speak to you about my practice." With that, Carlisle returned to his cooking.

The final room Jasper directed Alice to was an expansive library easily rivaling the size of any she'd seen on the hunter's base. Shelves filled with countless books lined the walls. Alice, knowing those volumes would hold the information she'd been looking for, found herself excited at the prospect of one day having the opportunity to devour every text.

In the far left corner of the woman with fiery red hair, Alice had caught a glimpse of from the window back in the garden sat studiously in front of a piano tapping away at a classical piece. Jasper pointed over to her as he spoke in a hushed tone. "That girl over there is Edythe; it's best not to disturb her while she's practicing.

It was the other inhabitant of the room, however, who caught Alice's attention. She instantly recognized the woman sitting at a table, paging through a book as she twirled strands of her long brown hair around her fingers. It was a sight Alice was all too familiar with as this exact woman had been the one to help guide her through the academy library in her search for information.  

Although new questions sprang through her mind, old inquiries suddenly made complete sense. Of course, Bella had bought her flimsy excuses and hadn't alerted any superiors in their organization. Her loyalties didn't lie with hunters; she was one of the witches.

"You!" Alice exclaimed, dropping Jasper's hand to make her way over to the table. "You're the librarian, from the academy!"

"Yes, I'm a scout for the coven," Bella responded as she closed her book, carefully placing a scrap of paper between the pages to make her spot. "I keep an eye on things from the inside and relay the information I dig up on your people back to Esme. It's one of the ways we stay one step ahead. I'm glad to finally speak with you without a cover. You have no idea how many times I just wanted to spill."

"That's amazing," Alice found herself in awe of the woman. "You've got such a dangerous job."

"It is, but it's an important one, so I'm glad to do it."

It was at that moment the large grandfather clock in the back of the room chimed three times, signaling that it was now three in the morning. As much as Alice wanted to stay and continue talking to Bella if she wanted to get any sleep before school tomorrow, it was time to go home.

#Jalice #Twilight #alice cullen #Jasper Hale

[cantfoolajoker]

s.e.e.s. as dnd classes

after my last post on the thieves, i have now returned to talk more about using dnd classes and subclasses as character study opportunities with the focus now being on sees (plus hamuko bc she counts)

since the post is lengthy, its going under the read more

so, for starters, minato/makoto is a shadow magic sorcerer. sorcerers are based on the idea that rather than learned arcana or given magic, you inherently have it inside you and can produce said affects with your sheer force of will, or your charisma. shadow magic sorcerers are linked specifically to the shadowfell, which is the negative energy to the feywilds positive energy, and sorcerers uniquely display quirks depending on their lineage; two i’d propose for minato/makoto would be “when you asleep, you don’t appear to breathe (but you still do to survive)” and “always cold to the touch”, since they seem the most fitting in my opinion for him. they get things such as strength of the grave, which says that on a successful saving throw on an otherwise fatal hit, you’ll drop to just 1 hp due to your constant state of being between life and death, and you also get the umbral form at 18th level, which allows you to change your form to a shadowy state that is resistant to all damage except for force and radiant that also allows you to move through other objects or creatures (man does that remind you of a certain battle a bit). 

in comparison, minako/hamuko is a totem barbarian in my full honest opinion. the reason i say this is because one of her defining traits is her hot headedness and impulsiveness to jump into situations, making her a prime candidate for barbarian due to their rage state and ability to tank hits. they get martial weapons, allowing her to pick up some weapon similar enough to a naginata, and the main aspect of the class is the ability to pick a totem spirit, which provides buffs depending on which animal you pick for your totem. personally, i throw my vote in for the wolf totem because it functions as a leader with the ability to land advantage melee hits on any creature hostile to you, the ability to track certain enemies and move at a stealthier natural pace, and the ability to just knock a large or smaller enemy prone when you hit them with a melee attack, all of which benefits minako/hamuko very nicely and lines up with her fighting style in both p3p and pq2.

alright so i know yukari uses a bow and arrows, and i know ranger exists, but also rangers are kinda bad in dnd overall and also yukari isn’t really a scout in any way. luckily dnd has an answer to this in the form of arcane archer fighter. arcane archers fuse magic into their archery methods in order to protect and deliver damage, mixing both yukari’s magic usage with her weapon of choice. they get the ability to literally redirect their arrows once shot to new targets and second wind, which lets them regain hp as a bonus action once per short or long rest. arcane archers essentially get an arrow type for like every school of magic, which makes up for the fact this would mean yukari has lost most of her healing spells since arcane archer fighters focus on dps more than they do support, though its not like ranger wouldve made up for that anyway.

so since junpei wants to be the leader so badly, i decided a champion fighter was gonna be the best bet for him, both because in a meta sense it is usually the First Pick newcomers do due to its simplicity of hit and hit more, but also because the class focuses on dps and raw physical power pushed to perfection, which junpei does end up getting when he learns to use a bat rather than a sword with the way he swings. this class and subclass is super straightforward: you get More damage to do the more you try to hit, and you get a higher chance of critical hits along with a more flexible fighting style and the ability to regain hit points with the survivor feat. they also get remarkable athlete, which lets them use half their proficiency bonus for any checks made while using one of their physical stats (so strength, dexterity, and constitution, all of which junpei def has) to have a greater chance at passing said checks.

akihiko's a monk. i literally don’t know what anyone expected. he’s a way of the open hand monk. open hand monks generally focus on debuffing enemies, which is akihiko’s staple in the party next to his all around good stats, which monks possess too in form of natural armor, increased movement speed, and having a hit die for throwing punches rather than dishing out 1 point of damage per hit, which increases as they get stronger. they can also heal themselves which akihiko has with his dia and diarama spells, but that isn’t the focus of it as much as it’s just a neat add on. overall, the guy’s a boxer and needs to dish out punches and monk does literally exactly that.

so i made a joke with a friend about how mitsuru keeps using marin karin because the ai of p3 is bad, and that led into the idea that mitsuru is a college of swords bard. while bards can be very stereotypically flirty, it’s just based on the fact their casting stat is charisma, so really any charismatic character can be a bard, which mitsuru does have with her formal way of speaking and her way of holding herself to establish authority. swords bard use, if you couldn’t guess, swords to fight, typically finesse weapons that they use dex for to fight, which with mitsuru’s weapon being a rapier, an actual finesse weapon in dnd, it’s an elegant weapon pick for an elegant class. they also get jack of all trades so they’re good at pretty much everything, which reflects the sort of type of person mitsuru reflects herself to be, and as a big joke, they get countercharm which allows them to perform and their allies get advantage when someone attempts to charm them. yeah. anyway mitsuru’s a bard. next.

for fuuka, i took more inspiration from her persona and how it encloses around her while she does her work to come up with an abjuration wizard. the school of abjuration specializes in protection and banishment spells, with outsiders believing it to be a specialization in denial and negation but truly being about ending harm and protecting the weak, which represent fuuka’s character and her bullying arc well. this class is mostly just what it says on the tin; they specialize in closing portals and rifts to other worlds, performing exorcisms, and securing locations that are too important to allowed equally magical wandering eyes and ears from engaging with. it’s also a high intelligence based class, which fits fuuka well. since she’s also a wizard, which gets virtually no hp and also no armor, so she needs to be protected, which everyone should want to protect her lmao.

aigis, for one, is a warforged in terms of races in dnd since they’re the robot race that only act on the goal they are given, But that’s just a side point to the main point of classes, which way of the kensei monk is definitely her. kensei monks train so extensively with their weapons that they become an extension of themselves, with aigis’s without a doubt being firearms due to her robotic nature already making them a literal extension of herself. they’re speedy and precise, both of which fit aigis and her programming to be the best combat unit, as kensei focus almost exclusively on dps output and the ability to just deal as much damage in one hit. unerring accuracy is also a feat kensei monks get, which allows them to reroll any attack they miss and again, really hones in on the combat robot thing aigis has going on.

now i know some of you probably went ‘are they gonna class assign koromaru’ and let me tell you i’m not going to cause 1 you wouldn’t be able to play him anyway in the theoretical sense, but also he’s usually seen as a companion to either ken or shinjiro, so he fits more as a companion animal that you see some classes get like rangers or druids. usually these animals survive as long as their owners lifespan and get extra health and sometimes magic so koromaru is a-okay in fighting still.

now for someone who i’m very excited to talk about: ken. being hellbent on revenge is actually a class in dnd! it’s called the vengeance paladin, which is a paladin whose oath revolves around singlehandedly bringing “evildoers” to justice, though what this justice is would be defined by the individual paladin’s definition of morality and their own vendetta. even in their basic description, oath of vengeance defines anyone who takes it as someone who sees their purity not being as important as the concept of delivering justice where justice is due, which fits not only ken’s theme as the justice arcana, but overall his entire relationship with shinjiro (which. oh boy paladin shinjiro and paladin ken parallels?). paladins get martial weapons which means ken gets his lance he uses, and on their spell list they get hunter’s mark, letting them mark targets to deal more damage. one another thing i want to bring attention to is their 7th level class feature, relentless avenger, which essentially makes it so any enemy that provokes an attack of opportunity can’t truly escape because the vengeance paladin can immediately take half their movement speed to follow after said enemy as apart of their reaction, which i think pretty easily describes the october 4th scene if you know what i mean.

and finally i’m saving the best for last cause i wanna talk about shinjiro. picture this: shinjiro’s a big tanky knight meant to service the people and protect them but a stray spell one day kills an innocent woman and suddenly he’s failed the one thing he swore his life to. giving up his oath, shinjiro turns into an oathbreaker paladin, a paladin who in someway shape or form has broken their sacred oath and now walks a darker path. now oathbreakers, while being stereotypically written as “evil”, don’t have to be evil themselves; being an oathbreaker pretty much is what it says on the tin, with them having failed to fulfill their oath’s rules in some way shape or form. breaking his own moral code and also abandoning his affiliation with sees pretty much solidifies shinjiro as an oathbreaker with him not necessarily being a bad person cause we all know he’s not. oathbreakers get things such as channel divinity: dreadful aspect, which lets them channel their anger into an intense magical intimidation, and paladins themselves are the only class to get the find steed spell, which fits castor’s horse riding-ness. they also get martial weapons and heavy armor, making shinjiro a big tank with an even bigger axe just like he likes to be. as a bonus thing, shinjiro Definitely has the tavern brawler feat (which gives unarmed strikes a hit die rather than a flat 1 damage) so he can wrestle with akihiko

BONUS: chidori’s a life cleric. her entire fountain of life or whatever the thing her persona does right next to her white gothic lolita aesthetic fit her as a life cleric. Or she could be a grave cleric with an atypical aesthetic, but then again, theres been pastel goth grave clerics before too.

BONUS x2: my friend and i had 2 ideas for ryoji while throwing ideas for this whole list around: death cleric, which is yknow, pretty straight forward..... OR deathlock great old one. deathlocks are specifically enemy warlocks that have been brought back from the dead by their patron because they believe that the warlocks job hasnt been done yet, and well, nyx i think counts as a great old one patron.

#persona 3 #p3 #minato arisato #makoto yuki #minako arisato #hamuko arisato #yukari takeba #junpei iori #akihiko sanada #mitsuru kirijo #fuuka yamagishi #aigis #koromaru #ken amada #shinjiro aragaki #sees #chidori yoshino #ryoji mochizuki #text tag #ill be honest i forgot aigis until the very end and i felt super bad since id already half way forgotten fuuka while writing fghj #dnd

[origami-goblin]

Starfinder Theme Focus - Ace Pilots and Bounty Hunters

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This week I’m going back to the scene of the crime to revisit the themes in Starfinder and offer some possible avenues down which you can direct your creative character-building energies. In case you’re completely in the dark on this topic, Starfinder introduces the concept of themes that you can use as a small puzzle piece in sculpting your character. In addition to providing some RP definition, each theme will give your character a boost to a specific stat and bonuses at 1st, 6th, 12th, and 18th level. As an aside, Paizo’s choice to have the theme progression remain identical throughout the possible selections helps to limit the min-maxing a bit, by ensuring that players aren’t choosing themes based on whichever ones grant them bonuses the soonest. Of course, the bonuses that each theme provides inherently enable some level of power-gaming, but that is going to be the case with nearly any pen-and-paper PRG. 

Last time, as a part of my deeper dive into themes, I specifically touched on the Icon and listed several examples of character concepts that a player could use when creating a Startfinder character kissed by the Icon theme. The point of the post was to show that themes aren’t meant to limit creativity; they foster it. Just as there’s no wrong way to eat a Reese’s, there are countless interpretations to each theme and the characters that can be molded into existence. Today, I’ll be firing up my brain engine to offer some different charger ideas for the Ace Pilot and Bounty Hunter themes. Buckle up, we’re making the jump!

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Ace Pilot Character Concepts

“You are most comfortable at the controls of a vehicle, whether it’s a starship racing through the inky void of space or a ground vehicle zooming between trees, around boulders, and across dusty badlands. You might be a member of an elite military force, the recipient of intense courses of training. Alternatively, you might be a total amateur with innate skills that make you a much-admired hotshot.” – Starfinder CRB

Cargo Transport Pilot – You’ve been on the open road…er…space your whole life. Maybe you enjoy the solitude that comes with transporting outrageous quantities of goods across planets or star systems. These goods could be anything – weapons, construction materials, medical devices. Or maybe it’s a grab bag and half of the excitement stems from wondering what the next shipment will contain. The many laws governing tariffs & import/export taxes come second-nature, and your expertise in maneuvering an unruly behemoth transport ship is unrivaled. I’m sure you have some fantastic stories about the characters that you’ve met at depots and docks along the way. Have you operated with a crew or are you more of a lone wolf? Are you ‘by the book’ or are you known to bend the rules when regulations aren’t being followed? And hey, I’m not going to judge if you smuggle something every now and again – that’s completely up to you.

 Mining Rig Operator – A specialist when it comes to operating heavy machinery, and someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty. Whether it be a massive drill, asteroid borer, front-end loader, or excavator, you have the honed precision required of someone who could easily level a structure or cause a fatality with a minor slip of the controls. You might harbor a deep love of geology, wealth, or the smell of space-diesel. If you’ve seen Disney’s Atlantis, Gaetan ‘The Mole’ comes to mind here, in all his grimy glory. Has mining been in your family for generations, or were you trying to make some credits in whatever profession was available? Have you pocketed any of your unearthed materials and sold them on the sly? What sort of role would you have on a starship that isn’t a dedicated mining vessel?

Stunt Driver – Inhabitants of the Pact Worlds crave entertainment, and you know how to deliver. From hologram tapes to over-capacity arenas, the lengths you go to appease your audiences is unmatched. How do you prepare yourself mentally to be fearless? Is there any stunt that you won’t do? Huge flames, steep jumps, free-falling acrobatics – you’ve done it all! Have you become an adventurer to satisfy a new craving that’s suddenly emerged deep inside? Are you an adrenaline junky with no care for your personal safety? Or are you THAT confident in your abilities that you simply must show them off at every opportunity?  

 Military Training Pilot – You’ve risen through the ranks of a military sect, but you figured that you’re done with combat missions. Instead, you are now responsible for grooming the fresh batch of hot-heads in the Academy to ensure that engagements end favorably at the minimal loss of life and equipment. You could be highly decorated and revered by all, or maybe you’ve never actually seen combat but have a brilliant mind for tactics and strategy. Did you develop a sophisticated training module for recruits? Are you a master of physics and can perform complex equations regarding acceleration, drag, and gravity on the fly? Maybe you’re not pleased about being given a non-combative assignment and yearn to be back in the fight, wherever that might be.

 Getaway Driver – You’ll ‘wait in the car.’ You know the best nooks and crannies to hide in after a successful operation, be it a heist or a GTA. Apart from having nerves of steel, your ability to handle any vehicle makes you highly coveted in the high-stakes game of evading the authorities. Perhaps you have a catchy pseudonym, like “Leadfoot” or “Afterburner” that adds an edge of mystery to your growing legend. Are you available for hire depending on the highest bidder, or are you loyal to a dedicated group of criminals? Or maybe you’re not a criminal at all, and you’re an undercover agent networking to root out the top dogs of the criminal world. What drives you (pun intended) and keeps your foot on the accelerator? I haven’t seen Baby Driver, but I imagine that he would make for a fun Starfinder character.

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Bounty Hunter Character Concepts

“You track people down for money. It is a dangerous profession, as most of your targets understandably don’t wish to be caught. You wouldn’t have it any other way. You might have a code of ethics, never taking jobs that, say, target children or members of your own race. You might hunt down only escaped criminals. Or you might be completely amoral, taking any job that comes along—for the right price.” – Starfinder CRB

 Great Mouse Detective – Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself on this one, but a Ysoki Detective? Come on! Okay, we can drop the ‘mouse’ portion of this to generalize it a bit, but a detective makes for a great Bounty Hunter. Searching for clues? Check. Interrogating witnesses? Check. An independent free-lancer? Check, check, check. Now all we need is a mahogany pipe that functions while wearing an airtight, pressurized helmet. Are you a Private Investigator, helping people track down lost relatives? Do you offer your services on a contract basis, assisting the local authorities when your services are required? Maybe you’re exceptional at finding clues, or adept at making accurate deductions based on the information on-hand. Or perhaps your forte involves the canvassing of a crime scene to gather the word on the street, or you could be skilled at poring over historical documents and ancestry lineages.

 Gung-Ho Repo-Man – It’s time to pay the piper. Whether it be collecting vehicles or ships that have defaulted loans, or shaking down debtors who are skipping town without paying back the credits owed, there are plenty of avenues to venture down as a repo-man (or woman). Are you employed by a roving band of outlaws or by a seedy brand of space mafia? Do you find honor in returning to others what is rightfully theirs? You can be cold and calculated, or a wild child with a smoking gun. Do you believe in using violence to get the job done, by obtaining the required items by whatever means necessary? Or do you have a strict code of conduct and will only resort to fighting if it is absolutely necessary and all other accessible routes have been exhausted? Either way, you get the job done and collect that paycheck, because if someone is going to get paid, it might as well be you.  

 Corporate Headhunter – Everybody’s looking for that perfect candidate to fill the shoes and help their company prosper. Sure, you’re a bounty hunter, but you aren’t collecting the reward on some beat-up Toyota Star-is or trying to bring in a fugitive; you are trying to find the right people and put them in the right seats. Corporations pay you top dollar (after six months) when you track down someone with the appropriate skillset and convince them to accept a position at their firms. You have an absurd eye for noticing talent, even when it isn’t a skill that people recognize themselves as having. These aren’t rush jobs; you know that the only way to scout ability is to dig in beyond the resume and get to know the person behind the paper. Whittling down long lists of candidates to a select few and engaging them in social situations is your true calling, and you truly want them to succeed. If they’re not a fit, it’s on to the next one until you find that diamond in the rough.

 Pre-Gap Antiquarian – Not much is known about the Gap (that’s why it’s called ‘the Gap’), but you recognize that there is much to be learned about the past, and that the key to unlocking the secrets of what we’ve collectively forgotten lies in the relics that remain. You seek out machinery, trinkets, baubles, clothing – any odds and ends whose origins have long since been forgotten. Perhaps you scour through old histories and manuscripts, trying to locate legendary items of extraordinary power. Do you have magic at your disposal to aid you in your search, ala a dowsing rod? Do you gravitate towards items of a certain kind, like ancient weapons? What draws you to these items in the first place? Maybe there have been stories passed down through your family and you became attached to them, bringing nostalgia into the mix. Or maybe you believe that the way technology is progressing leaves people disconnected with nature or causes us to lack the stronger bond that comes in a slower-moving culture. You probably hoard some of your treasures and keep an exceptionally special item on your person. You could be a hoarder, or run a shop that deals in the sale and acquisition of oddities and antiques.

 Zealous Proselytizer – Instead of being driven by the promise of gold or riches, you seek out the good fortune that comes from your deity looking favorably upon you. Whether it be Talavet, Weydan or any deity in between, you seek out others in attempt to show them the enlightenment that comes with becoming a follower. In a way, you are a bounty hunter of souls. Maybe you preach openly in front of large crowds and then try to personally recruit the ones who come up to your afterwards who show interest and promise. Or perhaps you spend more time watching and listening, following people whose dispositions align best with your deity’s tenets. You don’t necessarily have to be pushy, but you certainly could get aggressive if you become frustrated with your efforts. What if they don’t see the world as you see it? You might not be terribly high on the totem pole, either; you could be passing out leaflets in hopes that you ascend the ranks if you make your quota. Do you have a quota? If so, is it more of a personal goal or an appointed goal? What if you’re not aligned with a deity at all, but you hop between them depending on the one that grants the most benefits? After all, nobody’s perfect.

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And there you have it! Since I’ve already done the Icon in a previous post, our next stop will be the Mercenary and Outlaw themes. I’m really looking forward to these two, as they both have a negative connotation and I want to see if we can’t shrug off those predispositions and put a positive spin on them! The main problem I have with posts like these is that I want to start putting together a bunch of characters, most of which will never see the light of day. So, please - create! I shall live through your characters!

 Until next time – the stars aren’t the limit; they’re only the beginning.

#Starfinder #PCs #Character Building #Character Creation #Themes #Paizo #Pathfinder #RPGs #Tabletop #Gaming #Concepts

[scurvgirl]

Rethsaam

Qunlat - We All Protect

More Seeker of Rebellion! (I said I wasn’t going to write much but I spent the day whacked out on meds so formal writing didn’t happen, wooo)

Sylmae, Nimronyn, Daern’thal, and Henne’thel belong to @justanartsysideblog

Glory belongs to @feynites

Nimronyn takes them even farther away, but she is at least now going at a pace that doesn’t absolutely exhaust her. The travel is like what it was - up in the clouds and dreaming. Like before, it clears Ash’s head and lifts her spirits. Up here, it feels like nothing can touch her. It’s not the kind of rush her adoptive mothers want her to feel, but it helps to reorient herself.

She shifts and flies beside Nim for a little while, dipping into the spaces around her antlers. She needs more practice shifting anyways, why not practice now? She billows back to the aravel eventually, tired but a good tired, the kind of tired that lets her sleep without fuss. Her memories are always happier up here. Instead of remembering death and destruction, Ash remembers Nanae’s preferred perfume when they were in Val Rayoux, or how Mama loved to collect books. She remembers a trip to Val Rayoux where she got to wear the prettiest dress she had ever seen, silk spun so fine it draped like water over her.

When she wakes, she finds they have landed in a nice glen, surrounded by tall, old growth trees. The area strikes her as oddly familiar, she thinks…there are wyverns around here? But in the future, and the trees…they were bigger. But still, wyverns are creatures of habit and if they were there in the future, it is very possible they could be around now. She informs the scouts and more than a few of them seem a little too excited by the idea.

“Don’t go purposefully looking for them now,” she warns playfully.

“Would we do that?” Etiras asks, feigning innocence. Ash rolls her eyes and wishes them to be safe while scouting. She isn’t exactly one to stop someone from bending the rules, so if they happen upon a wyvern, at least they’ll be prepared.

The rest of the day is comprised of the typical work needed to secure the clan after travel. Wards need to be put up, aravels need to be properly secured, food needs to be cooked, and specialty workshops need to be set up. Children also need to be corralled and watched, though more…responsible types are trusted with that task than Ash. And since Daern’thal has worked himself into sickness, she becomes the main person responsible for setting up the wards.

It is cooler in this region, farther south and east than where they had been, and the coldness presses particularly uncomfortably against Ash. She shrouds herself in warm magic and furs. Her hair is loose today, partially for warmth, and it spills out from the hood she’s wearing.

Setting up wards is always an odd thing. It makes her think of her Nanae and Uthvir a lot, and in the past it’s graced her with a lingering melancholy. But today is different. She thinks of them and their memories seem to twine in with the wards, lighting in particularly bright displays of activity. They are all connected to her, ready to alert and to deter depending on the nature of the intruder. Animals are tricky creatures sometimes, particularly since they can be in the service of rival clans or the empire, but for the most part, the wards are set up to warn of specific elf-like energy intruders.

She is careful in how she spills her blood, creating a web of blood magic wards. She layers the wards – the outer layer is to simply inform of those wandering closer, while the second is to start discouraging, and the third are more akin to magical traps than just wards.

Ash walks the perimeter of the camp multiple times, checking to make sure that all wards and safety precautions are in place. By the time she is done, the sun is beginning to set, creating soft yet beautiful shadows through the trees. She returns to camp, heading straight to the fire. Blood magic always leaves her feeling cold, combine that with the chill in the air and Ash is too cold for comfort.

Ram soup is for dinner and helps, heating her from the inside out. She leans against Nimronyn while she eats, curling up and basking in her memae’s warmth. By the end of dinner, Ash is warm again, and her magic feels replenished, even after being so utilized during the day.

The hunters return from their hunting activities, a wyvern unabashedly being carried by three of them. Etiras shrugs at her while grabbing a bowl of soup. Well, at least now they have some valuable scales and bone for crafting.

While the camp is winding down for the night, she can’t help but notice Daern’thal’s continued absence. She frowns, he should have been with the rest of them for dinner, but he’s remained in his aravel for the entire day.

Ashokara rises and grabs another bowl of soup before heading into her friend’s aravel. It is dark, and the warming runes need more energy to be activated again. She waves a hand and they all ignite, slowly warming the aravel. She lights the candles and enchanted stones as well, bathing the aravel is soft light. Daern’thal’s prone figure wriggles in his hammock and he pokes his head out from the cocoon of his blankets.

“I brought you soup,” she says, stepping towards him.

Reverie pops its head out from underneath the covers, in its bird form.

“Thank you.”

Daern’thal slowly sits up, his hair clearly trying to free itself in a frizzy array from his braids. He keeps the blankets wrapped around him even as he shifts to the upright position. Two hand peek out from the blankets and take the bowl and spoon. She climbs up behind him and takes his hair gently in hand, slowly untangling it with a comb.

He eats and she helps him in silence. Their words after the battle…had not been nice, nor easy. He has seen her memories, she has let him…know, to understand, and as much as he understands, he has not lived what she has lived. The pain….

All he sees are her actions, and how the clan is affected by them. She knows that she has acted recklessly. And he knows that she couldn’t just stand there and let things happen, but he also feels wronged by her somehow.

“The man who destroyed my world did not think the people of my world were people. He called my people brutes, and only changed his mind when my mother showed him just how compassionate and good we are. He…was incapable of seeing people as people until it was too late, until he was too set in his ways to stop himself from destroying anything,” she says softly. Daern’thal stills and Reverie hops up onto his shoulder.

“I tell you this because I am not like him. I have always seen you as people, just as bright, just as important as the people from my world. My loss…it can never be fully repaired, but that does not mean I am unable to love you or the clan. But it does make me protective. I am sorry to have hurt you, but please do not ever insinuate that I do any of this because I do not love you,” she tells him, letting his hair fall softly down his back.

Reverie stares at her and she wonders if she said more than she should have. She doesn’t want to fight with him, but she doesn’t want to leave this…whatever it is open.

“I’m sorry,” Reverie says, so softly she almost doesn’t hear. A tense breath leaves her and she leans her forehead against the back of his head.

“Thank you.”

They don’t say anything for the rest of the evening. She helps keep him warm after the soup, curling up with him on a pile of blankets and pillows, lending her natural heat to help his recovery. Reverie sneaks into the pile, vibrating happily.

She falls asleep with him, curled up and warm.

After that night, the tension of the battle seems to lessen. And soon, days turn into weeks, which then turn into months. She trains with Sylmae almost daily, honing her abilities, becoming deadlier and stronger.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself in a mirror and hardly recognize herself. She…looks like her mama. She has her nose, and her cheeks. Mama was not a thin woman, she was made of soft curves and strong muscle, and while Ash is smaller, leaner, her body follows very similar lines to her mother, she thinks. Her shoulders are stronger now, able to carry more, not just her sorrow and memories. Ash can see her mama when she looks at herself, but it doesn’t make her sad. Her curls are looser but just as white, a mane of hair that floats around her face and horns, down her back. She is strong like her mama, she is beautiful, and compassionate. Or she at least tries to be.

She lets her memories linger closer to her. It hurts at first, everything seems to remind her of loss, but slowly it begins to shift. She sees things her loved ones would have loved, and she loves those things more for it. She sees wrong as spirits drift into the camps, whispering of the empire’s expansions, and she feels impassioned to right them. Her memories make her strong and she feels closer to herself than she has in the entire time she’s been here.

The months stretch into a year, and Nimronyn takes them deep into a mountain range. Winter holds the region in a cold, dead grip, blanketing the region in a thick blanket of snow. Ash melts snow wherever she goes, blazing trails forward…but also making them rather conspicuous.

The clan remains bundled up and close together, particularly around Nimronyn’s reptilian-like body. Ash sends friendly flames over her memae’s body every now and then, keeping her warm. Sylmae is less delicate and throws several large blankets over the dragon. But it helps. Ash knows that these far reaching places are safer, but they tax Nimronyn too much.

But she also knows not to press the issue.

We need allies. We need safe harbor. We can’t run forever. Every day the empire expands, taking more clans, killing more keepers. Daern’thal tells her of more whispers of the madness growing making Ash grow increasingly worried. There were no tales of this in the future, something so old, people forgot.

There is nothing concrete to blame the madness on, but if Ash had to bet, she’d bet it is the Empire. It the type of sinister thing she could see Mythal doing – the bitch.

What is most troubling, however, is that every now and then there are whispers in the clan that maybe the empire isn’t so bad. Their vision is an attractive one, and it beats constantly running. Ash reminds them that the empire destroys themselves eventually, enslaves definitely, and anyways, after what happened in the valley – any of them will be killed on sight…or worse. They are welcome to leave, but they should know the truth of the empire, to not believe its beguiling lies.

Despite the several feet of snow and freezing conditions, Sylmae takes Ash to the side and sets to train her.

“Conditions will not always favor you!” Sylmae says as they begin.

“Certainly not if we keep running to the mountains,” Ash snipes back, parrying her mother’s strike.

“It is futile to curb your tongue.”

“It is!” She lunges and Sylmae bats her away easily. As strong as Ash has gotten, as good as she has become with combat, she still can’t quite beat Sylmae. Always one step behind.

But then again, Ash does not use her fire in this training.

Nim trains her fire, and Daern’thal improves her defensive magicks.

“Your opinions are no always correct,” Sylmae continues.

“No one’s opinions are always correct – not even yours or Memae’s,” Ash counters, rolling away, only to drop into a particularly deep snow drift. The word is not called though, spar is still in session. Sylmae is dashing after her and in a spur of the moment decision, Ash takes a deep breath and lets a wave of heat seep from her, quickly melting all the snow around her and Sylmae.

Her mamae wobbles on the suddenly new muddy ground. Well, she used to not use her fire in these sessions. The ground is still unstable but at least it’s not snow, and Ash takes advantage of Sylmae’s very slight wobble to dash forward. Their training sticks clash as Ash angles herself low. Sylmae is still significantly taller than Ash, and she’s beginning to think she’s taller than even Mama, but that just means she has a longer way to fall.

Ash is not the quickest, nor the strongest, but she strives to be clever. She does not relent, further destabilizing Sylmae’s base. She could maybe win this won, she could –

A ward goes off in her head and she gasps, suddenly seeing the intruders on the outer ring of wards traipsing through the snow.

When her vision clears, she is on her back with Sylmae standing above her.

“What was that?”

“Intruders,” Ash hisses, rolling to her feet quickly. Seriousness settles over Sylmae as she follows Ash back into the camp, peppering her with questions.

“How many? What were their armaments? Describe them –

“I don’t think they’re part of the empire, they looked more like a clan – but I didn’t see a Keeper.” She tries to hold the image in her head, seeing…an aravel, harts, and young elves that could very well be teenagers.

Sylmae’s face hardens. They’ve run into hostile clans before, though normally they have Keepers. A Keeper-less clan is woefully at risk, that is…if the Keeper isn’t disguised somehow.

Still, they alert the clan, rearranging the aravels into a defensive position and gathering warriors and hunters. Daern’thal taps into the wards and Dreaming, scouting where he can to see if he can learn anything about these elves.

Ash armors and arms herself, slowly working on her breathing exercises to let her magic begin to circulate freely inside of her. Fire requires a spark and a steady supply of fuel, magical fire requires the same, with slight variation. Her will is the spark, her breath and the magical pathways in her body are the fuel. She grabs her spear, two daggers, and several knives. She doesn’t think this clan will pose that much of a threat, but…safer than sorry.

Armed and ready, she joins her mothers at the forefront.

Another ward breaks and Ash is given another glimpse. The clan she sees is not advancing like an army, and she does not know if they can sense they are breaking wards. Exhaustion is written across their faces.

We need to know our enemies, yes, but we also need to know how to spot an ally, Mama’s voice drifts through her mind, a lingering memory. She was speaking to Cullen, something about how he was suspicious of some new mage enclave Mama wanted to bring into the fold. There was concern that they were Venatori agents – they had in fact been young mages who had run from the Circle before the rebellion. Mama had been right.

“I think…this is not a fight,” she says tentatively.

“I agree,” Reverie chirps up. It sits on Daern’thal’s shoulder, his eyes still closed as he searches through the Dreaming.

“They carry weariness with them, not malice,” it continues. Mamae and Memae share looks, Memae’s large eyes blinking slowly as she returns her gaze to the forest around them.

“They can still pose a threat,” Mamae says.

“Yes, but maybe…a friendly initial approach is best?” Ash suggests.

Another ward breaks. The sounds of a moving clan reach them, growing from soft whispers and whirring to actual speech and the plodding of harts, the various plunks and wheezing from moving aravels.

“Mamae? Memae?” Ash asks, wanting to see if they will at least consider her idea.

“Yes, little light, we’ll try. We do not fight if it’s not necessary,” Nim finally answers and Ash relaxes. If she is wrong, they can chew her out – but something tells her she’s not.

The other clan’s scouts are the first to pass through the trees. They are nearly hidden, but the wards chitter with activity.

“Stay there,” Nimronyn commands. The scouts freeze against the trees and soon the rest of the clan follows them.

They halt immediately as soon as they spy Ash’s clan. They watch each other, eyes flitting from one person to the next, gaging the strength of who they’re up against. The people of the other clan’s faces fall as they realize their disadvantage.

The stillness is broken by a small woman striding quickly to the front of the stopped clan. There is a fierceness to her that Ash recognizes, as is the sorrow that seems to fill the space around her. This is a grieving woman, her eyes are hard and she is ready to fight if need be. She has lost much, but she has not lost everything.

A warrior next to Ash grips his axe tighter and Ash reaches out, placing her hand on the haft. Nimronyn puffs up and a taste of her magic suffuses the area.

“There is already a clan here, you have broken many of our wards…what brings you so close?” She asks, her tone as strong as it is questioning. The woman in question raises her chin in defiance, her own magic expanding in the space and Ash suddenly realizes that this must be their Keeper.

“You are Nimronyn, yes?”

Memae lets out a low growl but nods.

“I am Henne’thel. My father spoke of you, he said you were a good Keeper. You are not like the Keeper that attacked my clan and killed him and my mother.”

Her clan does not gasp as much as the emotions in the clearing suddenly turn to shock then to pity then to sorrow. The death of a Keeper…once a rare event has become entirely too common, with the rise of the empire and the increasing boldness in warring clans that have tyrannical Keepers more bent on fighting and death than they are on leading.

“I am sorry for your loss, Henne’thel. I knew of your father as well, he was a good Keeper.”

“I am our Keeper now – I slew the last Keeper that threatened us.”

“As is your right. We do not wish any unnecessary antagonism if you do not,” Nimronyn says diplomatically.

The tension in the grove eases considerably. Ash watches as the other clan’s members relax, tension rolling off of their shoulders and their faces.

“No, we do not wish any unnecessary fighting. We will be on our way if it eases you,” Henne’thel says. Before Ash can think better of it, she steps forward and bends her head towards her memae.

“Perhaps, Keeper, we could invite them to break bread with us. Winters are coldest weathered alone,” she says, hoping the double meaning of her words come across. Memae huffs at her briefly, pausing before turning back to Henne’thel.

“My daughter speaks the truth, you are welcome to share our fire if you promise to keep your clan on their best behavior.”

Henne’thel inclines her head in gratitude, first towards Nimronyn, then towards Ash.

“Your generosity and hospitality is greatly appreciated. I will confer with my clan and give you an answer.”

“Very well. Ashokara, since you seem so invested in this, you may wait for their answer. You as well Daern’thal, keep her safe.”

Ah, she will be reprimanded lightly later then. Fine, she can handle that, because dammit she was right. Daern’thal looks slightly put out as the rest of their clan files back to their camp. Reverie scuttles up to the top of her friend’s head, staring at Henne’thel.

“I agree with you,” it chirps and she smiles at her friend.

“Thank you, Nimronyn and Sylmae may…not be so understanding of it later, though.”

“They’ll see reason, they always do. It’s not like you barreled head first into an army this time.”

“It was a raiding party, excuse you, and everything turned out fine. And this is better than fine. Friends are always good,” Ash says.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Henne’thel says from behind her. Ash turns in surprise, looking down, very far down, at the woman before her.

“I do. I am glad we could avoid any fighting; you and your clan have been through enough.”

Henne’thel frowns at that but she does not press the issue as she returns to her people. She can guess what she seems like to Henne’thel, unknowing of the pain she is going through right now. But maybe…and it’s a big maybe, she will get the chance to understand.

When Ash turns back to Daern’thal he is flushed, and it’s not just from the weather. Ash leans back, raising a knowing brow at him. He shrugs, opting to remain silent. Well, then, perhaps it’s not as big of a ‘maybe’ after all.

Henne’thel confers with her people for at least an hour. In that hour, Ash and Daern’thal communicate mostly in sign, keeping quiet for privacy, for themselves and for the clan heatedly discussing whether or not to accept their offer. She can understand why they wouldn’t – unknown, could be a trap, inviting misfortune. She doubts saying it’s not a trap will assuage any concerns, so she lets them have their debate in peace.

Daern’thal seems preoccupied with how apparently pretty Henne’thel is. She is indeed lovely, Ash can see that, but Daern’thal seems very quickly taken with her.

I should have let you invite her to our fire. Ash teases.

I do not court the ire of the Keeper as easily as you do, He retorts, sufficiently not denying anything. She chuckles.

Everyone seems to forget what my name means.

How exactly did your mother know you would be so annoyingly defiant? He teases and she chuckles.

Lucky guess.

And so it goes for an hour, quip after quip until Henne’thel reappears, looking pleased with herself.

“We accept your invitation, as long as you sit with us.”

Oooh, she’s to be insurance, interesting.

“As long as Daern’thal can sit with us too, then, he’s delightful company.” She grins and Daern’thal almost blushes.

Henne’thel seems unfazed by it however as she nods and returns to her people. After she gathers them, they all head towards the camp. Ash manipulates the wards accordingly, allowing them safe passage. The aravels are still positioned defensively when they arrive and a truce must be reached – weapons are to be confined to specific aravels to help prevent fighting. Both clans consent to it and slowly but surely, Henne’thel’s clan settles down around the large fire Ash’s clan has going.

Ash and Daern’thal are kept as the insurance, but she doesn’t mind. She knows that her clan will not attack, and she is happy to foster diplomacy. Henne’thel’s people do not talk to her much at all however, they keep to themselves and while they are all sharing the fire, the clans remain largely separated into their groups. The only exception to this are the children.

As soon as the situation is deemed safe enough, the children are allowed out of the aravels and allowed to romp. They have no issues with making new friends from a different clan, they see a fellow child and see a potential friend, not a potential threat.

Henne’thel and Nimronyn sit together, discussing Keeper things, Ash imagines. This awkward situation remains until supper, where the hunters from both clans convene and begin to cook the game they had caught during the day. Henne’thel takes a seat next to Nimronyn, while Ash and Daern’thal sit with the hunters from Henne’thel��s clan.

The fire begins to die when a wind billows through the trees. Reflexively, Ash takes control of the fire, turning it a brilliant blue as it waves in place while the wind poses a threat. When the wind shifts, she relinquishes it and settles back in. Henne’thel’s clan is watching her closely.

“I heard a very interesting rumor,” Henne’thel says carefully.

“And what is this rumor?” Nimronyn asks.

“There was a battle in a valley far from here, between the rising empire elves and a clan.”

Ash tenses but Nimronyn seems calm.

“Not such an uncommon occurrence in such times.”

“Hm, true, but it is uncommon when the clan wins.” Henne’thel’s gaze shifts to Ash.

“The rumors spoke of a great blue fire engulfing even the mightiest of the warriors. They call the woman responsible for the slaughter Asha’thylgar.”

“The woman of blue fire? What a descriptive name,” Nimronyn ventures, “and potentially misleading – blue fire is not as uncommon as some think.”

“True…but the rumor spoke of the woman who as the daughter of a Keeper,” Henne’thel says and finally Nimronyn shifts her tone.

“I do not appreciate where you are going with this.”

“I mean no disrespect or harm. I am…impressed, very few who tangle with this so-called empire come out of it alive – and you did more than just survive.”

Ash resists smiling and instead continues to eat her food. Ash’s clan seems unnerved from the conversation, they’re shifting in their seats, looking to one another. Sylmae levels her gaze at Ash while Henne’thel and Nymronyn remain locked into whatever stand-off they’re in.

“The empire is hunting you, Asha’thylgar has a sizeable bounty on her head for what she did to Falon’din, it seems reasonable to warn you.”

“How exactly did you come across this information?” Nimronyn demands. They already know about the bounty and the hunting parties, it’s partly why they’re still on the move.

“How everyone does, gossip-y spirits, including an actual Gossip spirit. We have no interest in collecting that bounty, they’d probably just steal us into their empire anyways.”

“Then why bring it up?” Nimronyn asks.

Henne’thel pauses and her eyes go over Ash, “I wanted to know if it was true. I know what the empire can do, I doubted such rumors that a clan escaped. The tale made it sound…fantastical.”

“Feats that are not believed are often thought of that way,” Ash says softly. It’s how folktales and legends get started, there’s almost always a grain of truth, but time distorts everything – especially stories.

“And do you have the truth of this feat?” Henne’thel asks.

“The truth is subject to perspective,” Nimronyn says, “perhaps that is why your gossiping spirits create such a fantastical story – it’s their truth.”

“Then I ask for your truth,” Henne’thel says, not backing down from this. Eyes flit to Ash, expecting her to tell the tale. She nibbles on her lip and shrugs.

“A raiding party entered the valley where we were camped. I was tasked with leading the clan away from the fighting while my Keeper and the clan’s warriors engaged with the raiding party. I couldn’t bear to watch my mothers die so I entered the fighting myself – I have always had a talent for fire, I used it.”

Dark emotion falls over Henne’thel and she nods, “I know that feeling, you are lucky that you did not lose them.” A bitter smile crosses Ash’s face – she doesn’t know, she tells herself. But she nods her head in thanks.

“Lucky indeed.” It feels like a lie. It wasn’t luck, it was determination and action, to prevent from history repeating itself. Or beginning so to speak. She knows what Henne’thel is feeling right now – anger, grief, jealousy. Ash’s adoptive mothers are alive while Henne’thel’s parents are dead – through no fault of her own.

“I am heartened to hear that the tale is true, it is good to know that not all clans are doomed to suffer Keeper-less fates.”

“And we heartened to know that your clan survived a rival’s attack. How did you manage that?” Ash asks.

“I took the form of a Keeper and assumed my role.”

She is more powerful than she seems, then, good. Allies should be strong. The rest of the dinner is filled with polite, if tense, conversation. But over time, and as the wines and spirits are passed around the fire, the tension lessens and the two clans ease into a more companionable existence.

The next few days are a flurry of activity. Food is a little thin, Ash’s clan was not expecting to be hosting with another clan. But Henne’thel’s hunters are more than happy to assist Nim’s hunters in acquiring food. Children play together, Nim and Henne’thel are engaged in talks the entire week, friendships are made, and by the end of the week, an alliance has formed.

Ash resists the urge to gloat but she does settle for a small, “I was right,” directed at Sylmae who humbles her in training again for it. Worth it, though. One of the best, and unexpected, results is that Daern’thal seems absolutely taken with Henne’thel. Reverie once whispers to Ash that Daern’thal finds Henne’thel pretty, beautiful even.

While there seems to be a lead up into a courtship between Henne’thel and Daern’thal, and the alliance is strong, the two clan go their separate ways in traveling. They set up the routes for communication in the Dreaming, giving Daern’thal even more power to contact his lady love. It’s cute, and it’s a good reminder than even in dark times there are always these little bits of brightness that shine through.

Spring arrives in the mountains in a soggy manner, drenching the area in rain – as if the melting snow wasn’t enough. Aravels get stuck and travel becomes slow as they avoid flying due to the near constant inclement weather.

They are camped out on a small mountain, when a ward goes off. Like it’s supposed to work, Ash catches a glimpse of what broke the ward – but she doesn’t see anything other than the surrounding foliage, maybe a few animals, but nothing that would break a ward. She frowns. Wards do not just spontaneously break. 

She waits several minutes but no other wards break. She alerts the clan to the ward breaking and they agree it should be examined. Several groups are sent out to examine the perimeter while Ash and Etiras leave to examine the ward, armed just in case. They travel quietly through the woods to the broken ward. Ash’s magic lingers in the area, not just activated but blown apart. This was no accident.

She draws her spear and slowly turns, scanning the area. Etiras draws his bow, looking for anything, anyone, who could have blown the enchantment.

Ash looks up too late. A heavy person drops down from the trees, landing firmly on top of her. She falls to the ground with a harrumph, but rolls away quickly. More drop down from the trees and she hears the snaps of a bow as Etiras begins to fight back. Her spear was thrown when the elf landed on her, so she grabs the dagger in her belt and lashes out with that.

The assassin evades her easily and advances quickly. She rolls back to her feet just as the assassin lunges. She moves just as Sylmae taught her, and she lashes out with her fire – but it is raining, and the ground is sopping. Her fire only does so much, only burns so much before it is turned to steam. More steam fills the air as her fire collides with it, thickening the air, making it difficult to breathe.

But the assassins were just warming up it seems. A cloud of magic seeps into the air, sending what feels like knives and shards of glass into her skin. Her arms are soon covered in lacerations, her face, legs. She hears Etiras scream and she realizes that they’ve been outmatched.

It’s a quick decision, but it should work. It’s called a detonation glyph, she normally doesn’t use them because their devastation is too dangerous – too much margin of error. But they are far from camp and the sound of the blast will alert the rest of the clan. She blasts her fire into the nearest assassin. Their barrier takes the majority of the blast but they are left at least stunned enough to grant her the three seconds to whisper the spell into the ground.

The time starts now.

She manipulates the heat of the air to allow her to see Etiras. Wasting no time, Ash grabs him and runs. Then jumps down a ledge. She sends them both into a tucked in roll, doing the best to protect themselves even as they roll down the scraggly side of the ledge and into the brush.

The ward goes off in a brilliant blue explosion, rocking the earth and air. Debris flies down and Ash curls in on herself, protecting her head and neck.

When the air grows calm, she gathers the will to peak out from her position.

“E-Etiras?” She calls softly. A low groan answers her and she pulls herself to her feet. Damn assassins, probably looking to get a bounty on her like Henne’thel had said. Her body is bleeding and hurt, but she can move, keep moving, keep going.

Ash moves to Etiras, who is in a much worse shape. His foot is bent at an unnatural angle and he is already covered in purple and blue marks, bleeding internally as well as from the cuts up and down his arms, his face…

She has never been one for healing. It is not a skill that comes naturally to her, but she knows a thing or two.

“Etiras.”

“Ow.” He can’t move, the pain is too much, it infuses all of the emotion around him. But he’s alive, and that’s all that matters as far she’s concerned. With the utmost care, she reaches down and gently lifts him. He cries out in pain, but this has to happen. It gets worse before it gets better, she remembers that is part of healing.

The foot needs to be set, there’s no way around it, and then she can begin healing. There is a spell for numbing pain, she just need to remember it.

She attempts a spell then checks for numbness, but it doesn’t work. She tries again, but it is on the third try that she manages the right incantation. Etiras goes numb, all pain and some emotion fading from him.

Alright, step one done. She can do this, she may not have taken to healing, but she did train. She did her time with the healers, and she recalls some from her first life, even without magic, it’s possible. She thinks of the surgeon in Skyhold’s infirmary, working to heal the soldiers, and she didn’t even have magic.

If she can do it, so can Ashokara.

She takes gentle hold of his foot and leg and recalls seeing the Surgeon set a bone like this. Know the body and how it connects and you can take it apart…and put it together again.

She jerks. The bones crunch sickening but the foot is in the position it is supposed to be in. She tears off her shirt and wraps the torn pieces around the foot, then wraps two sturdy sticks to his leg, stabilizing it. Then she casts the few healing spells she knows.

The cuts on his arms mend, and some of the bruising eases off. His breathing evens out and she runs a hand over his hair.

“I’m going to get us back.”

“That was some fucked up shit, Ash.”

“I know, I’m going to pick you up now.” She takes one of his arms and helps him into a sitting position, then moves the arm to fall over her shoulders. She adjusts herself so that when she stands, he is slung over both shoulders, foot and ankle untouched. He grunts but makes no protest as she begins to walk towards what she hopes will let her back up to the clan.

She needs to keep moving, there’s no telling if there are more assassins, waiting to strike. Sylmae and the rest are good at tracking so if they need to find her, they will. Etiras is heavy, but not so much that she will let him attempt walking.

Ash wanders down to the river the scouts had found before. Hypothetically she should be able to wander up-stream and to a crossing point where she can then get to the desired elevation where the clan is. And water sounds very nice right about now.

The going is slow, but she eventually makes it to where the trees end and the riverbed beings, dipping in low. She stops immediately, frozen to the spot as she sees it. She has many experiences with spirits, small and large alike, some bright some clinging to shadows, but none have ever shone so brightly, floated so exquisitely as the one before. It large and golden, but not like the ore but as if it were a second sun on earth, light spilling so easily from it as it dangles in the air above the river.

It turns towards her and her heart stutters. She falls to her knees and Etiras grunts, but falls silent of any protests as he looks up from her shoulder and sees the spirit.

It blinks curiously at her as it floats towards her. An arm extends down to her, silent but overwhelming as it touches her cheek. It is warm and comforting despite everything and she leans into it, wanting it to remain just for longer. It is almost familiar, this closeness, and it fills with unfathomable sorrow to have it be gone.

“You are lost,” it whispers, but it is an echoing thing, as if it were a thousand whispers coming from multiple beings rather than just one. She nods in confirmation.

“We are separated from our clan, have you seen them?” Etiras asks. The spirit turns to him and nods.

“Up on the ridge, to the east. But that is not what I meant.”

Ash blinks in surprise and struggles to find a response.

“I am where I can only be,” she finally says and the spirit nods.

“As we all are.”

Etiras lifts his head slowly and takes a breath, “You are Glory.”

“I am.”

Glory. A very suiting aspect for this spirit, overwhelming and humbling and incredible all at once. Grand and shining, something everyone wants, and so few get, fewer that deserve it.

“Thank you for helping us,” he whispers. Several of its wings beat, light shines from them in varying lengths.

“I will accompany you to the path, you should find your way back from there,” Glory says and begins to…float up the river. She follows it, moving as quickly as she can. As Glory moves, the world seems to stretch towards them, as if nothing can get enough of them. Even Etiras seems to lean as much as he can towards them.

But a coldness lingers in Ash that she can’t explain. It is beautiful and great and incredible, but it also brings a heaviness to her memories that she has not felt in a long time.

Glory leads them to the path. Ash was right, it wasn’t far from the river at all, and she can hear Sylmae and the others in the distance calling for her. Before she heads towards them, she turns to Glory and bows her head in thanks.

“Thank you. And if you will accept advice – stay far away from the Empire, all they do is destroy and corrupt things.”

“Your concern is kind. I will remember it,” it tells her. She nods and Etiras gives his own thanks as Glory recedes back into the Dreaming.

Etiras is heavy upon her shoulders, as are her memories, pressing incessantly against her skull. But she sojourns forth towards the sound of her clan, her people. The past weighs her down, but her legs are strong.

She takes a deep breath and calls for Sylmae, directing them all to her. They are there in a flash, taking Etiras from her and whisking him away to the clan’s healers. Sylmae pulls Ash in for a tight hug, only to release her quickly once she realizes how cut up Ash is.

Their time of running from the Empire is coming to an end, and much sooner than she had expected.

#my writing #seeker of rebellion #ashokara #daern'thal #sylmae #nimronyn #henne'thel #glory #fic #i know that daern'thal is keeping them safe from assassins but i figured that it was reasonable that at least a few get lucky #and get through #no lasting damage though #but look! henne'thel #i hope i wrote her right #same goes for glory #they give me a strong ancient/old school angel vibe #absolutely stunning but also terrifying in their own way #completely overwhelming

[riversflame]

Sunday Ficnic Week 2: Supernatural

Characters: Basically everyone

Word Count:1789

Warnings: Descriptions of blood/death

Lance groaned as he hefted his backpack onto his shoulder,” I don’t understand why we have to move on so soon Shiro. This place is perfect. Plenty of forest for Pidge to run in, animals for you to hunt, and a lake that isn’t polluted or drained for once! Can’t we stay for like a week more?”

Stop complaining Lance. We can’t risk staying here. Pidge said she spotted hunters ten miles north of here and unless you want to risk being turned over to the Glara we need to leave,” Keith growled. Lance sighed but didn’t argue with the nephilim. After all he’s not saying anything that isn’t true.

The Galra. A group of insane extremist hunters and witches that catch supernatural folk to use as weapons. This group of runaways and refuges don’t stand a chance against them. How much damage could they do anyways? A vampire with PTSD, a nephilim with anger issues, a werewolf separated from her pack, a centaur , the last two fae alive, and a male siren that ran from his shoal and responsibilities against a hundred hunters trained from childhood. Lance shuddered at the odds.

But could they really blame him for wanting to stay just a day longer? The lake was so clear; it reminded Lance of home. He knew he was the one to willingly leave his family behind, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Lance buddy, you coming?” Hunk called into the cave they had called home for the past month. Lance snapped out of his thoughts to see that the rest had already left.

“Yeah I’m coming,” he replied. Lance walked to the cave entrance before pausing and glancing back into the new barren cave or the last time. Lance sighed again, repositioned his bag, and ran to catch up with the others.

~~~

They had been on the road for three days before Pidge announced that they were being followed, and Shiro confirmed it.

“They hid their tracks really well, That’s why we only just were able to confirm that they were, in fact, trailing us from the lake den,” Pidge pushed her glasses back in place.

“We have to set up a portal then,” Shiro said. His face was drawn and grim, and one could see the tension in his body. It must have been incredibly stressful to be the choicemaker. Lance certainly didn’t envy him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean we don’t do portals often for a reason. Not only does it take almost an entire day to create one, but Allura will be defenseless during that time,” Lance argued. If the trailers had Galra backup nearby they needed all hands on deck.

“Well do you have a better idea?” Keith shot back at him. Lance could feel his hackles rising. If he was in water his fins would certainly be flared.

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Lance retorted. “We continue on to the closest body of water. You lure them in and I kill them. Nothing can beat a siren in his natural habitat. Plus they wouldn’t expect a thing. After all no one expects a male siren to be so far away from the ocean.”

“And if a fleet of Galra do appear when we’re at the lack we’d be screwed with no way of escape,” Keith’s eyes flashed with frustrated anger.

“I’ll be fine Lance. We need to get far away. We don’t know if the two hunters contacted a fleet or not. It’s best to listen to Shiro and Keith. We have to open a portal,” Allura cut in before Lance could start another fight.

Lance knew that she was only being logical, but he still felt a pang of hurt n his chest. Worthless. 7th wheel. Idiotic. He shook his head slightly to get rid of the negative thoughts that he knew (he hoped) weren’t true and tuned into Shiro giving orders to everyone for them to carry out once they found a suitable clearing to make the portal.

~~~

So Hunk and Pidge ran off to collect the different necessary ingredients, Keith and Shiro went out to scout for any dangers, and Coran and Allura began the ritual to prepare the small clearing they found for the ritual. And Lance, well Lance didn’t really have much of a job. Shiro told him that he was to guard the clearing itself. The thing was, all they had to do was ell and both Keith and Shiro would be back at their sides in seconds, so in reality Lance’s job was to stay out of the way.

It didn’t really matter anyways because everyone returned to the clearing as the sun was beginning it’s descent. Fae magic required precise timing, and this particular spell could only be performed at twilight or pre-dawn. It had something to do with universe fabric. In all honesty fae magic went right over Lance’s head.

Everything was going well, and soon all they had left to do was wait the couple of hours Allura needed to find the exit location. The waiting was the most stressful part. They could no longer run without risking Allura’s life and sanity, and they had nothing to occupy themselves with except each other and their thoughts (usually about worst case scenarios).

By the second hour Pidge and Hunk were talking about this invention or that, Keith was “training”, Shiro was pacing, and Lance had climbed a tree to get away from Coran’s storytelling.

Lance was swinging his leg back and forth and thinking about his family when he was it. A flash of purple in the trees. The same purple of a Galran cloak. Shit.

“Hey guys,” Lance called down. “I think I saw something.”

Shiro stopped pacing, “What did you say Lance?”

“I said I think-”

Lance was suddenly blasted out of the tree by a burst of purple. Druids. He watched numbly as he fell towards the ground. There was a blur and then he was in Shiro’s arms.

“Lance!” the others shouted, but it sounded to Lance like they were far away. Nonetheless Lance turned to where the sound was coming from in time to see Galra emerge from the edge of the clearing.

Keith was the first to engage them, slashing and snarling like an avenging angel. His enemies fell left and right. Foot soldiers Lance thought to himself.

Shiro set Lance down against a tree before crouching to look him in the eye. He was looking to see if Lance was okay enough to be left defenseless for a time.

“I’m fine,” Lance smiled. He, in fact, was certainly not fine but Shiro was their best fighter and they needed him. Shiro waited one more heartbeat before nodding and running into the bloodbath.

Lance looked down at where the blast of magic hit him and wow that looked bad. Like really bad. His right side was black, and tendrils of purple magic was creeping into other areas of his body. Not to mention that it burned. In fact it felt like Keith’s fire was in his veins and burning his body from the inside. It felt like those horror stories of merfolk getting captured and slowly dried out in the unforgiving sun.

“Allura, Coran how long until the portal is active?” Shiro called out as he sunk his arm into a Galra chest and ripped their heart out before leaping at another soldier with fangs bared.

“A couple of tick more number one. Hold in there,” Coran answered.

This wasn’t good. Every soldier the team took down seemed to be replaced by two more. Not to mention the druid he saw that had yet to make an appearance.

“Well well well what do we have here?” a voice echoed through the clearing. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Shit.

Someone gripped his good arm, hard, and Lance screamed. It was cold, so cold, but just as painful as the ever worsening wound on his side. That wound has reached past his shoulder and down his arm.

The entire clearing froze. The Galra stopped fighting because they were in the presence of Haggar. The team had stopped fighting because Haggar had Lance.

“Let him go Haggar,: Shiro growled. He didn’t dare take a step forward with Lance in her grasp.

“Why hello Champion. It’s been a while,” Haggar smiled maliciously. Keith clenched his hands into fists and took a step forward. Haggar noticeably tightened her grip on Lance and it became so painful that his vision swam.

“Careful half-breed. You don’t want anything to happen to our friend here now do you,” Haggar droned.

Keith looked ready to rip someone apart, and Lance didn’t doubt that he would have if the portal hadn’t been opened at that exact moment. Nobody moved.

“What are you guys waiting for? Go!” Lance exclaimed.

“Are you crazy? We aren’t leaving without you Lance,” Hunk said. Lance could see the determination burning in his eyes. Lance found similar looks in the other’s eyes as well.

There’s no convincing them to leave without me, Lance thought. But he couldn’t let them get captured. They were his family, and nobody touches a siren’s family.

In the end it was Lance’s protective instincts that ended the stalemate of the two sides. He knew that getting the many Galra under his spell would require too much energy especially in his injured state. His friends on the other hand…

 Lance sang the first song that came to his mind:

 Are you, are you coming to the tree? They strung up a man they say who murdered three.

 The effect was instant. Tension drained out of his friends muscles.

 Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be.

 Hunk and Pidge started towards the portal. Shiro and Keith looked to be fighting his song.

 If we met at mid-night in the hanging tree.

 Coran entered the portal and Allura followed. The Galra weren’t moving to stop them.

 Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where a dead man called out for his love to flee.

 Shiro choked out a pained and panicked,” Lance what are you doing?” Lance could feel his eyes watering. He continued.

 Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be. If we met at mid-night in the hanging tree.

 Keith started walking.

 Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where I told you to run se we’d both be free.

 Hunk and Pidge disappeared into the portal.

 Strange thing did happen here.

 Keith followed Hunk and Pidge.

 No stranger would it be.

 Shiro was the last to enter the portal.

 If we met at mid-night in the hanging tree.

 The portal closed.

 Lance was alone.

#voltron #lance voltron #lance mcclain #supernatural #ficnic #I'm sorry I love him I promise #open ending kinda #langst #major character injury #death #keith kogane