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exhaustedwriterartist · 3 months

Text

A little D&D snippet

An aftermath to a current fight that I’m hoping happens in the D&D Campaign that I’m in. The reveal that happened right before we ended left me flabbergasted, so this is how I'm coping:

All the context I will give is this-

Marcel is the character I play in the campaign. She is a Phantom Rogue Wood Elf. The daughter of the Guild of Rogues Leader. In this campaign anyone with fey-blood is considered monstrous, dangerous, and an outsider to most people, so she has a scarf covering her face and ears to not be so exposed. She is 57, but according to elf standards, she is still only 14 to 16. Oh, and she has a curse that no one has been able to break since she first got it when she was 9. (concept art link here)

And before the events of the battle we were in, a fellow player’s character named Tirien, ingested the remains of an evil god and basically unlocked medieval Siri… and never told the rest of us, so we all assume temporarily dying did something to his mind.

Content warnings:

Mentions of death, injury, abuse, and slavery. (I think I covered everything?)

Post Battle:

She just stared. Why wouldn't she? Her best friend, who had never taken off her mask in the nearly 30 years she had known her, didn't have a face.

Marcel didn't have time to process that in battle, as they all would have been vulnerable to another barrage of bullets if they stopped to stare. All she knew at that time was that man had broken something important to Amaryllis, and that they were both pissed by that. Lamorak had also noticed during the battle, but turned her attention back to the fight, though Marcel could tell she was shocked.

Now that the battle was over though, Marcel turned to Amaryllis. The surface of her friend’s face was smooth, and there was nothing indicating scars of any kind.

This is what she didn't want me to see.

Not that she didn't try to see. When she was in her 20's, she tried to find ways to get Amaryllis to take off her mask. But, much to her chagrin and what must have been Amaryllis' certain frustration, she never could. As she got older she accepted that she may never see her friend's face; her company and friendship were all that mattered to Marcel.

She was overwhelmed with all that had happened within the past few hours. Not long before Marcel’s group was in this battle, she had struggled with a panic attack. The thought of what little security she thought she had was gone as a heavily injured Tirien had nonchalantly and casually mentioned the name of that wretched hag who had put her under so much pain and suffering. Not only that, but that the hag had known where Marcel was for the past 43 years.

The curse seemed to react as intensely as she did, because it flared at hearing the hag’s name. When she recovered enough strength to go down to the bunker with the group, she didn’t feel like talking any more. But now as she stood in front of her friend, Marcel had finally found strength to speak.

"So... This is what you didn't want me to see when I first met you"

There was no answer, and she didn't expect one. She knew she sounded blunt, but she had to break the silence. She could sense her friend's discomfort and uneasiness despite not having an obvious indication of such emotions.

"I understand why you did it, Amaryllis, and I know many in the Guild would have had a different reaction than my father or me."

Still no answer. Lamorak limped closer now, she was confused as well as shocked. She looked as if she had questions but couldn't find the words to say.

Something Marcel said caught Amaryllis' attention.

"This doesn't phase you, Ms. Hagrishard?"

"I'm a little shocked, and I have questions, but I'm not frightened or anything along those lines..."

Marcel paused before talking again.

"I witnessed so much in that coven, so much horror and-- torture. I saw the effects of it... And how it deformed, dismembered, and killed my friends and family. So no, Amaryllis, I am not phased."

She couldn't believe she was talking about it again, especially after having a panic attack from the new knowledge of her past an hour earlier. Her scars still ached from the attack though the pain had dulled down as the pain from the bullets took over.

Lamorak, upon hearing her say this, turned to her in horrified confusion.

"What on earth are you referring to Marcel? When would you have seen such a thing? You hardly look older than 15."

Marcel let out a tired laugh. She didn't think she would have shared anything about herself to Lamorak so soon, but knew it would be better to tell her than to have to hide it.

"I'm surprised you even think I'm near 15 years old, most people assume I'm even younger. However, I'm actually 57 years old, though I am still considered a child."

Lamorak looked incredulous, but held her peace. As Marcel began to speak again, she slowly took off her scarf and moved her hair away from her ears.

"When I was 8, many wood elves from my village deep in the fey forest, including myself, were kidnapped by hags to be used in their experiments and were enslaved in their coven. I managed to escape when I was 14, and was found by my adopted father. I'm not sure why we were taken in the first place, but I do know that I will never forget the living hell I endured and at what hands I have been cursed with."

Marcel fell silent. It still hurt to speak of, and even more with her curse flaring in her weak state. This was the most she had divulged to anyone since she told Amaryllis over 20 years ago.

Lamorak stood there silently, going through many different expressions of shock as she not only learned that the young girl she had been traveling with for months was much older than herself, but a tortured fey-touched. Marcel had forgotten how prominent and inflamed her scars must have looked, because her friend winced at the sight of them. The open air felt better on her scars, though she felt more exposed and vulnerable.

The only thing Lamorak could manage to say was, "I suppose your comment of how long you've known Amaryllis makes sense now."

Marcel gave a weak smile. Well, at least she's not attacking or anything like that. That was always the gamble in sharing her fey-identity with new people.

"I can explain some things to you... later."

She turned back to Amaryllis, who, while not expressing it that obviously, was surprised that Marcel had actually shared something so stark about her past with someone they had only known for a season.

"Do you want to keep this secret hidden, my friend?"

Amaryllis nodded "As much as possible."

Once again Marcel had begun to unwrap her scarf as she had tried weeks earlier, but Amaryllis stopped her.

"While I do want this hidden, Ms. Hagrishard, I don't wish you to be exposed either. I remember you told me how much your curse affects those scars, and my main mission is to keep you safe."

"Yes, but-"

"I'm sure there is something down here we can find, or you can carve that mask that you wanted to make me if that proves to fail."

Lamorak snapped back to their present plight at the mention of the dwelling they were in.

"Tristen! He must still be down here!"

With that she ran off down the hall they had first encountered the man Lamorak had called "Brandelis."

Marcel put her scarf back to its proper place, but didn't cover her face back up. It had bothered her that Amaryllis had never called her by her first name once, and for the entirety of this journey, Amaryllis had taken so much damage in her place. Yet she knew it was because Amaryllis respected her father, as well as her, and would rather see herself hurt than her Guild Leader's only daughter.

The two of them turned towards a commotion in the foyer the boys had been in. It sounded like Ulric had performed one of his "special operations" on Joade and his reaction to those results. There was a distinct smell as well, as if someone had burned bacon or another meat. Marcel wasn't sure if that was because of Ulric or because of the fireball Tyrien had cast that engulfed the room earlier.

Their fight with that dragon-like creature must have taken longer than theirs. Marcel turned back to Amaryllis.

"Do you want to see how the guys are doing, or should we go after Lamorak?”

“It is up to you Ms. Hagrishard. I will go wherever you do.”

Marcel paused. The others did not seem bothered by Marcel's fey ancestry and the way they approached situations was... unique to say the least. But how would they react to Amaryllis without her mask? The last thing she wanted was for them to mock or jive with her friend, though she was sure Amaryllis would just punch them if they did.

However, she remembered how desperate Lamorak had been to find her dear friend.

"I think we should help Lamorak. She shouldn't be left alone in the state she's in. It will also allow us to look for some kind of face covering if you would rather not let the guys know."

"Then we shall. I do admit I would rather not let them see, but I don't know how much control we have in that, especially seeing that Tirien apparently knows things he shouldn't."

"True."

Marcel and Amaryllis began to follow where Lamorak had run off to. There was still an uneasy feeling between them, but Marcel couldn't figure out what the reason really was.

"Amaryllis?"

"Yes, Ms. Hagrishard?"

"I want you to know that this doesn't affect how I see you. You are my friend, and always will be."

They were both limping from their injuries, but Amaryllis seemed to hesitate slightly when she said this. She didn't answer.

"I do have questions though, and I hope you trust me enough to answer them. But you don't have to. Especially not now."

"Perhaps... later"

Marcel smiled softly. She was used to not seeing Amaryllis' facial expressions anyway. She knew exactly what her friend was feeling by other movements. This didn't change Marcel's bond to her friend for the worst; it only made Marcel want to help her dear friend if she needed it. It made her realize that Amaryllis, like herself, had seen things she wished she hadn't.

She would ask later. But now, finding Tristen was at the top of their priorities.