#domain: merchant city

[gorbalsvampire]

top: Royal Exchange Square by John Lindie (L) and Thomas Nugent (R)

bottom: Gallery of Modern Art and Trongate by Tony Webster

Merchant City was once the heart of the Dunsirn family's power base in Glasgow - a prosperous domain built up around the City of Glasgow Bank, Tontine Hotel and Ramshorn Graveyard. Alas, the family were driven out by SO:13 four years ago, and are only now beginning to explore the possibility of returning home.

#domain: merchant city #vtm

[lets-just-daydream]

I loved this:

https://www.tumblr.com/lets-just-daydream/730163482466680833/pls-only-if-you-want-to-but-i-have-been-searching

It sparked a thought! What if Cazador did turn you into a spawn? Astarion and group kill him, perhaps you are sent to safety to ensure your soul is not sacrificed. Then spawn Astarion and you get to spend eternity as equals, no need to find a cure for vampirism or extend your mortal life.

Love your work. Cheers!

POOR TAV LOL

destined to end up in Cazador's clutches (at least in my fics) but we need the angst before the happy ending right???? (decided to put these requests together)

*

Ahh. You'd made it. Baldur's Gate! Weeks and weeks of travel, killing, bloodshed, making friends and making enemies. You were almost certain with all the walking you'd done you could lift a house with your new leg muscles. Well not quite but you certainly felt like it.

Your companions scattered slightly, feeling mildly safer in the city and agreeing to meet up in a nearby tavern Shadowheart had pointed to and said she was departing to. You wandered off to find a merchant to buy some perfumes and soaps from because you were certain you smelled awful. Right beside you, not unexpectedly, was Astarion. The closer you got to the city, the clingier you found him to be. Not that you would ever complain. Being back in Cazador's domain was kind of scary for you and you could not imagine how utterly terrifying it must be for Astarion. As you walked, you looped your arm in his and you felt him relax slightly, a smile gracing his features. But you still saw him looking over his shoulder every couple of minutes.

You tried to converse with him as a distraction. "How about we get some nice soaps and perfumes, go back to the tavern, get ourselves a room and have a nice, warm bath?"

"Mhm," Astarion responded half-heartedly.

"Astarion?" You asked. He barely registered your voice and you gave his arm a slight squeeze to get his attention. "Look, I know that you're worried but I've got your back, we've all got your back."

He smiled back at you and gave you a soft peck. "I know, darling. But I… just can't help the feeling like I'm being watched."

Your brows furrowed and you looked around. It was broad daylight and you were in the middle of the street.

"My love," you said. "It's the middle of the day. You're the only vampire that could be out here."

Astarion looked at you and laughed, he'd forgotten this important piece of the vampire puzzle.

"Of course," Astarion smiled. "Now let's get these soaps so I can lather you up later."

You smiled and chatted as you found a vendor, smelling the soaps on offer, not knowing that Astarion's gut feeling was right. You were being watched. From the shadows.

You made it back to the tavern with many soaps in bag, keen for a relaxing night in. You'd discovered the rest of your companions had booked their own rooms. It made sense after camping out together for weeks everyone would jump at the opportunity to have their own space.

You bit your lip and turned to Astarion. “If you'd like to get your own room, we can bathe wherever you'd like.”

Astarion only offered you his trademark smirk before turning to the innkeeper and asking for one room, with one bed. You blushed and watched as Astarion took the key and turned back to you.

“I would like to bathe with you, in our bath, in our room.”

You nodded and grinned, following him up to your allocated room and stepping inside after he'd unlocked it. There it was. One bed. A bathroom off to the side and a wardrobe, a desk and comfortable looking couches situated in front of an unlit fireplace. It was rather warm these days. You then spotted doors off to the side and opened them to find a balcony decorated with plants and wooden furniture.

“Oh, it's a nice view from here, Astarion,” you said as you leaned against the rail.

You heard him step onto the balcony and he stepped in behind you, caging you in his arms between himself and the railing. “Yes, you're right,” he said plainly.

He sounded so casual and even though you had shared a few nights together and confessed your feelings to each other, his simple touch or his body against yours still sent you into a silent internal frenzy. You truly could spend all day watching the street below with Astarion pressed against your back.

“I am so desperate for this bath. I'll go get it ready,” Astarion said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss just under your ear.

You shivered and felt him smile against your skin before he was gone, retreating inside.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, soaking in the sun before you felt a ruble under your feet. Your brows furrowed and you leaned over the railing to see what could be causing the building to shake.

Before you could even process what was happening, the balcony crumbled and gave way under you, dropping you to the cobbles below. You heard a slight hiss and a cold hand on your skin before everything went black.

Astarion began filling the bath with warm water, a smile on his face. He didn't ever dare to dream that he could have a relationship like he had with you but it seemed the gods had slowly begun smiling down at him. He peered through the bathroom door and watched as you leaned over the railing. He admired the view you unknowingly gave him before he saw you begin to fall as the floor fell out from under you.

He screamed your name and ran to the edge of the destroyed balcony but you weren't there. Were you under the rubble? He screamed your name again as he dropped to his knees and reached for the rubble but he was too high up. He ran out of the room and came face-to-face with your other companions.

“We heard you scream,” Lae’zel said.

Astarion shoved past everyone, unable to put into words what he had just witnessed. They followed silently as he got outside and pushed through the crowd of people surrounding the rubble. Astarion dropped to his knees and pulled stone, wood and plants to reach you under the fallen balcony. He'd made a dent in it as Karlach and Lae'zel made short work of the pile but you were nowhere to be found. Astarion called your name again, scanning the crowd to see if you had been picked up but he couldn't see you. He couldn't smell you. But he could smell something familiar. Something that if his heart still beat, would have made it stop.

This was Cazador's doing.

You woke to a splash of freezing water to your face and you gasped as you gulped for air. You opened your eyes and looked around, not recognising where you were. Or how you even got here. What could you remember? You were on the balcony in your room, it collapsed and… that's it.

“Astarion?” You called looking around the dank, cold chamber.

Stone and tile lined the walls and floors and gods it was freezing. You tried to make sense of where you were and you noticed cages suspended from the high ceilings, a coffin in the middle of the room and… suspended bodies lining the perimeter of the room. Your blood ran cold and you froze as you saw the pained, tortured look on each person's face. You raised your hand to your mouth but were stopped. Chains shackled you to the ground and you could barely move an inch.

“What the fuck…” you whispered to yourself. “Astarion?!”

“Call for the little vampire all you like, but he can't hear you,” a sordid voice came from behind you.

You whipped your head around and saw a tall figure looking over you. Pale skin, long black hair, fangs peeking out from beneath his lips.

“Cazador?” You whispered.

“Indeed.”

You squinted up at him, confused. “You did this to me? Why?”

Cazador huffed and stepped in front of you, leaning down to take your chin in his hand. His skin was ice cold. Colder than Astarion's and you shivered at the feeling, your stomach recoiling in disgust. “Hmm. They told me you were clever. Too much credit, I say.”

Cazador stared at you impassively, like he was bored with you. “You're… insurance. I figure the boy will come to save you. I've heard that he's so desperately in love with you. Isn't that cute?”

You didn't respond, only letting your mind wander to Astarion, hoping he was safe. If you were still here with Cazador it meant Astarion was still safe and alive somewhere. You hoped your companions would keep him away. You knew Karlach would. But Astarion was also stubborn and you prayed to every god who was and wasn't listening that he wouldn't come looking for you.

“Some say cute,” Cazador continued. “Pathetic, I say.”

You furrowed your brow in anger and struggled against your restraints, desperate to reach the vampire in front of you and stake his heart.

“I'll kill you,” you sneered.

Cazador deadpanned and gripped your chin tight, his nails digging into your skin painfully. “Don't test my patience. If Astarion doesn't come for you, you'll take his place. Then I'll ascend and kill him myself.”

You stilled and fear overtook you. Cazador was cruel and he intended to complete this infernal ritual one way or another. Maybe if he did use you instead, Astarion could hide away out of Cazador's reaches. But becoming ascendant, he could go anywhere, sun or no sun. They could play hide and seek for all of eternity. You had to get free and kill Cazador.

The vampire lord dropped your chin and stepped away, taking in his suspended spawn, his eyes landing on the spot where Astarion should be. He was impatient. There was no guarantee Astarion would even come for you. He may not even know where you'd gone. He turned slightly to find you struggling against your shackles. He could just do as he said, use you in Astarion's place and kill him later, anyway. Then he'd have the satisfaction of tormenting Astarion with your untimely death… Yes, the idea had merit and the more he thought on it, the more appealing he found it.

“Change of plans, dear hero,” Cazador said as he approached you once again and crouched in front of you. “I've been patient for too long to wait on that insolent fool any longer.”

You flinched as Cazador's fingers found your neck. “We'll be speeding things up.”

You gulped. “What do you-”

The remainder of your question died on your lips as Cazador reared his head back and bit into your neck without warning. You let out a scream as you felt an icy blanket fall over your body, your blood being drained from you.

You had gotten so used to Astarion feeding on you and being to gentle that this feeding frenzy felt like torture in comparison. You tried to shove Cazador off of you but the shackles held you in place. As the vampire took deep, clumsy gulps from you, you felt yourself begin to weaken and your vision begin to fade around the edges. Astarion would have long stopped by now and kissed your neck before laying you down to sleep.

Your body felt numb and cold as your hands fell limp by your sides, you could feel the strong beat of your heart slow to an unnaturally slow lull. As Cazador took a final gulp, your head lolled back and your eyes slipped shut, visions of Astarion filling the void before you finally faded away. You wished you could tell him one more time that you love him.

“I don't know about this,” Shadowheart said as they searched Cazador's study. “We're not even sure if Cazador is behind this.”

Astarion grinded his teeth in frustration. “I know he did this. The smell of his spawn was all over that rubble. If you don't want to help, then leave,” Astarion snapped as he kicked a book across the room.

It seemed the gods did indeed smile down on him as the book flew across the room and budged a lever everyone had missed and revealed an opening in the floor.

“I didn't even know this was here…” Astarion gasped, stepping past before anyone could stop him.

Your throat was dry. Impossibly dry. Like you'd just consumed a carafe of Baldur's Gate’s finest sand. You tried to move and you realised you were sprawled out on your stomach with something heavy on your back, your bare chest pressed into the cold tiles. Speaking of, your back was killing you. You stretched and felt around before feeling something wet and sticky. You pulled your hand back and saw that your fingers were covered in… was that blood?

Your eyes widened as you felt a stab and slice into your back and you let out a guttural scream at the pain. It felt as though someone had taken to your back with a knife and was carving into it. The dots connected in your brain and your body stiffened in shock. You heard a laugh from above you and you craned your neck to find Cazador above you, dagger in hand with a manic look on his face.

“Yes, let your screams out, little spawn. It makes this all the sweeter,” Cazador praised.

Your screams turned to laboured breaths but it didn't feel right, you couldn't get enough air into your lungs.

‘No,’ you thought in horror as tears welled in your eyes, shock finally giving way to reality.

You ran your tongue over your teeth and found two sharp fangs in place of your canines.

“It's a shame your life as a vampire will be so short, I think you might have enjoyed it,” Cazador said as he stuck the dagger into your back once again.

“Please… please stop,” you sobbed.

“Soon, my dear. Soon you and all these seven thousand spawn will cease to exist and I will become the greatest vampire of all time.”

You let out another scream as Cazador resumed his work, but he stopped abruptly and he fell off of you as you heard hurried footsteps and familiar voices. You turned your head toward the noise and saw Astarion heading the rest of your companions, running down the stairs toward you and Cazador.

“Grab him and tie him up. Tight,” Astarion commanded and Karlach and Lae'zel nodded as the latter put her crossbow back on her shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, almost not believing your eyes. You began to smile but the look of horror, guilt and shock on his face caused you to frown and close in on yourself, a cry of pain escaping you as you moved.

You weren't yourself anymore. You were a vampire spawn. Cold, covered in bloody wounds and completely different to the person Astarion fell in love with.

“Oh, my love,” Astarion sobbed as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His hands hovered over you in fear of hurting you any further. “What has that monster done to you?”

You let out a pained sob as Astarion took the cloak from his back and draped it over you. He cupped your cheek and you looked up at him, his eyes shone with tears that threatened to spill. “I'm so sorry I let this happen.”

You sniffled and stiffened again as you heard Cazador speak behind you. “You finally made it, Astarion. If only you had been faster, you could have saved your dear lover from this awful fate. A failure once again.”

Your heart hurt as you watched Astarion listen to Cazador's words, you truly wished he didn't have to suffer such an awful master and now he was here because you had been captured and now he would think you're hideous and you were probably both going to die anyway. But Astarion stood and walked over to where Cazador was bound, held in place by Karlach and Lae'zel.

“What to do with you…” Astarion mused, unbothered by Cazador's words. “I could take your place and become the ascendant.”

“No…” You choked. “Don't do it Astarion. You're better than him, I know you are.”

Cazador had revealed that he would be sacrificing seven thousand souls to ascend and there was no way you could live with Astarion if he sacrificed all of those innocent lives. The chamber was silent for a moment before Astarion stepped closer to Cazador, unsheathing his weapon.

“You're right. I am better than him.”

It seemed as though Cazador let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he thought Astarion was going to cut him free. Be the bigger man, as it were.

“But I'm still going to enjoy every second of this,” Astarion took Cazador's hair in his hand, pulled his head back and stabbed into his master's neck. The sound of metal squishing into flesh was all that could be heard in the cavernous dungeon as Astarion stabbed into Cazador's almost lifeless body over and over. You watched Astarion's face as he finally threw his dagger down and dropped to his knees. You tried to comfort him but the shackles holding you in place jangled against you.

Karlach ran forward and freed you by prying the shackles open and you crawled over to Astarion and wrapped your arms around him.

You felt him stiffen under your touch and you moved away, worried you'd overstepped in this troublesome time he was going through.

“Your body is… cold,” Astarion said, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I'm sorry,” you whispered, not really even knowing why you were apologising. You were worried that without the warmth of your skin and the blood coursing through your veins, he wouldn't love you anymore. You had no warmth and no blood to offer him anymore.

“Why are you apologising? Why are you crying, my love?” Astarion asked.

You looked down at the space between you and felt your face drop.

“I'm… different now,” you struggled. “I can't feed you anymore… I'm cold.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks and Astarion leaned forward and held your body against his, careful of the fresh scars on your back.

“Darling I… I still love you,” Astarion whispered against your ear.

This was a rather tender moment and your companions wandered around the room examining what they could loot and whether the other vampires should be set free.

You leaned back and Astarion offered you a small smile. “You'll have me by your side for all eternity.”

You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes and offering him a small smile. Admittedly you had wondered what your relationship would be like as the years ticked by. You'd grow old, no longer young and energetic and Astarion would stay the same; forever young and beautiful, frozen in time. But now you were frozen in time, too. Young and beautiful, glad to know you and Astarion had eternity together.

“Let's get out of here,” Astarion said, helping you to your feet and offering you his arm. “I never want to come back here again.”

“Me neither,” you replied.

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction

[rhineposting]

( inspired by an idea from a genshin discord server )

The month was the 8th, slowly eclipsing in on the 9th. Like each year, travelers and merchants alike from all over traveled far and wide through different roads, all ultimately leading towards one destination beneath the surface - the underground Kingdom of Khaenri’ah, Starry House of Many Doors, and it’s annual Stjern-Falle Festival.

Many believed at least once that the celebration honored the departure of Summer and arrival of Autumn, as the name almost seemed to imply - alas, with the nation being removed from Gods’ gaze, they knew not of gentle winds of Spring, golden middays of Summer, raging storms of Autumn and certainly not of the cold fangs of Winter. Having conquered nature, Khaenri’ah had essentially risen above the need for seasons and therefore had no need to honor them. What else could the godless people celebrate them? That which is above the seasons as well, of course - the stars.

Ages ago, scholars had found a way of creating environments with sights and conditions taken from anywhere else in the world, calling them simply Domains - as such, in it’s earliest years, the first Sages of Khaenri’ah cast upon their kingdom an image of a starry sky far away, beyond divinity itself ; and each year from that foreign sky a rain of stars would come falling down, it’s dews harvested by the scientists and mages alike, providing prosperity to the kingdom for years to come.

However, as is with human nature, both the outsiders from above and the residents from below saw that time as a most opportune occasion for profit and trade ; and so, the Stjern-Falle Festival was open to all who could afford to make the journey.

Or to those who were removed from the circle of commerce entirely, thought a bard as he climbed out of a barrel, his feather-light footsteps quiet as he ran, a bag in one hand and a lyre in the other, burdened only with but a few Mora.

(One that he personally picked off of his dear old friend earlier when he lied unconscious and unaware in his…The bard would have liked to be so kind as to call it a bed, but really - it was just a hoarding pile of expensive quilts, pillows and trinkets.)

Among his few burdens, one would not be able to find a solid plan of his future endeavors. Should one peek into his mind and search for any plan, at best they would find a small list written in colored wax, reading as such:

1. Wine from Khemia-grown grapes

2. Traditional Khaenri’ahn Music

3. Make new friends

4. Watch the star rain

5. ?????

6. Go home and take a nap

The best plan is the lack of it thereof, such was the bard’s philosophy, and it yet had to fail him. Each corner of the world had a story to tell, and if he wanted to hear them all, what good would it do to arbitrarily set directions by himself? Besides, with fate being world’s best guide, putting in the time to make a schedule of any kind would have been too bothersome ; and above all, the bard was a man of leisures.

Once far away enough from the cargo of merchants and the grand, iron elevators the size of stages, he found himself sitting upon a small wall, marveling. At what? Simply put, everything before and below him.

By then the city, called lovingly by poets a Puddle of Many Rains, had been flooded with market stalls and stages alike ; it’s own lights bright seemingly mirroring the artificial stars above, reflecting them much like a true puddle would have. Though windless, the air was thick with scents so numerous and varied, so much that they could all be referred to only with a collective name : scent of a festival. Truly, the bard found it incredible how little the scent varied across the continent, be it Lantern Rite in Liyue or Day of Sabzeruz in Sumeru - at their core, they were all the same.

Overjoyed and energized, the bard chuckled under his breath and proceeded to close his eyes, letting his legs carry him to wherever they deemed fitting.

***

Not long into his blind trek, his ears made him come to a halt, something catching their attention. Thus did the bard stop right in the middle of the river of people passing by and listened :

A simple tune, coming from an instrument likely between a violin and an accordion, should his knowledge of instruments be up to date. Though it’s tones were deep, he could not help but pay mind to how swiftly the melody could go from somber to joyful in seconds. Intrigued, he squeezed past the rushing stream of the crowds. To his joy, soon after he had been faced with a young man, a strange violin-like instrument over his shoulder, one hand pressing keys and the other shifting a bow back and forth, producing music unlike anything he had heard in most recent years.

So he stood there, a one man audience to the youth, his green eyes bright with awe - contrasting greatly with the young man’s focused face as he continued playing for what felt like eternity and a fleeting moment both. All spheres of life had rules unspoken, therefore once the youth finished playing he bowed, while the bard clapped, a wide smile almost cutting through his face.

“Why, that was delightful!” the bard exclaimed, his palms by then aching from his applause, “Tell me o fellow poet, what is the name of this lovely instrument?”

“Nyckelharpa, sire!” the young man replied, “More commonly called the bowed violin, it’s our national instrument! And would I be right to assume you hail from the City of Winds?”

“Verily, my friend! Quite the perceptive eye you got there!” the bard praised, clapping once more, “Then again, my lyre does quite betray my origins, doesn’t it?’

“Nay, it’s actually your attire. Few people here need capes, and rarely in such vibrant colors as yours! If I had to name people I know of that wear capes, not only would their number fit on my single hand, they’re all from the Royal Court! Black Serpent Knights, the Mages, Court Alchemists and of course, the King and his family!”

That too the bard noticed - rarely did the clothes of the locals come in shades other than black, white, gray, blue or purple. Living beneath the surface did have it’s negatives, lack of access to a variety of dyes must have been among them. Still, from what he saw thus far, the people of Khaenri’ah made up for it with jewelry and adornments of brass and iron alike, ranging from simple buttons to elaborate earrings - worthy of landing in his dearest friend’s trash pile of a nest.

“If you’re so kind, could you tell me where may I learn more about your music?” asked the bard, “As it happens , I seek mastery over every instrument I can find - and it currently stands at the humble number of fifty seven!”

To that, the oblivious young man couldn’t help but burst out laughing, nearly folding both himself and his beloved instrument over. To that the bard took no offense, few ever believed him. Then again, few was the number of people who were capable of having enough years to master even three instruments, let alone fifty seven. By the time the young man managed to regain his breath, his cheeks had turned as red and round as an apple freshly picked off a tree, teeth bared in a wide smile.

“In that case, why don’t I take you to my school, master?” the man jokingly proposed, “I’d like to be there to see your list expand to fifty eight- or better yet, make it sixty! It’s a perfect time for such a milestone, is it not?”

“It is, friend,” the bard nodded. “It is.”

That year had marked Barbatos’ first ever Stjern-Falle Festival, as well as the year he mastered sixty five instruments total. From then on, the journey to Khaenri’ah’s many doors had become a voyage he would eagerly look forward to.

***

The wheel of time had turned a hundred times more, and so did the wheels of a cart as it came to a halt as soon as it got out from the since then upgraded cargo elevators. In spite of the countless inspections from merchants and guards both, once again it had an additional passenger - who had slipped from underneath the cart itself, filthy and dry with dust sticking into every crevice of his face. Resisting the urge to cough and spit, the passenger made a run for the shadows of various containers, where only then he’d wipe furiously at his twisted in discomfort face. Such a shame that no more were caravans as accommodating to stowaways as they used to be, sometimes even being as cruel as to employ usage of cats and dogs alike to avoid extra company.

“Phef phef phef,” the bard spat and wiped into his sleeves, a few tears running down his gray from dust face, “Oh dear, how am I ever going to wash this taste off?”

The question was purely rhetorical : as always, the answer to every issue under the sun would remain to be wine and music alike. That year, it was no different.

***

“May I ask for a slice of brie with that, good sir?”

Much time had passed, and by then the bard managed to clean both his robes and body from road dust - appearing as presentable and pleasant to the eye as ever, the image of a perfect customer that he was not. Not that the poor waiter would have known, as he kept bringing him more wine and snacks, blissfully unaware that upon being presented with the check, the bard would have been out through the chimney quicker than one could call for guards. Even then, no prison in Teyvat and below would have been able to hold him, as far as he knew.

“Will do!” the waiter bowed, and departed like a leaf in the wind, leaving the bard to his own devices.

Once more he had forgotten to bring a book to fill the time in between glasses and snacks and unfortunately enough, the establishment did not have performers of any kind, nor even books for a quick lend - effectively leaving him with plenty of time in his hands and nothing to invest it into. A shame, truly - had it not been for one ace up his sleeve for trying times such as these.

(And up more places, such as various orifices - at least according to his friend, whose constant stone face would eventually develop cracks upon losing a card game for the eight time in a row. A small breeze can carve a mountain, as they say.)

The ace being one of his favorite past times - to simply put, people watching. One would think that a man his age and wisdom would one day grow weary of the sight of humans of any kind - and they couldn’t be more wrong, fortunately. For the same reason why children insisted on hearing the same story for bedtime night after night, the bard would seek out the company of man, as mundane as their lives tended to be. Simple, infallible logic, he thought.

Surely enough, not long after the restaurant gained a new customer - a young girl, already tall for her age, donning robes of a scholar yet presenting herself with the confidence of a senior professor. Proud, with her chin lifted high, she approached the man behind the counter - the ringing sound of Mora making itself known across the establishment.

“I’d like your meal of the day. Sunshine Sprat. Take-out,” she requested. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Of course, we’ll serve it to you in just a minute!”

So they did - before the bard knew it, the girl had been presented with the meal, wrapped up and secured like a gift, fragrant steam escaping from the cracks and folds here and there. Like a true princess, the girl took the package in her hands - and proceeded to run out the door as if her life depended on it. Soon enough, the server made the reason why known across the restaurant.

“You swindling little brat!!” The bard heard the man roar to the door, “Someone go catch her!”

When the bard looked closer, he saw that the Mora were gone - replaced only by a pile of rocks.

That evening, the restaurant earned two new customers on their blacklist.

***

It didn’t take the bard very long to find the girl - a few twists and turns, one flight across a few rooftops, two dives into the trash - and there she was, not even five minutes later ; not because she was slow, but simply because the bard was not someone anyone or anything could escape from, no matter how far they would travel.

He observed from afar, a hand under his chin, deeply entertained. The girl, likely no older than fourteen, carved into the dish much like a princess would have, while simultaneously reading a book that sat over her crossed lap as she sat on the ground behind a building. Her expression remained one of complete lack of bother or guilt of any kind, and it was so convincing that one would almost believe her, should she claim she was not to blame. By then, the bard’s amusement had almost shifted to entrancement, and before either of them knew it, he sat by her side after seemingly appearing from nowhere.

“Interesting trick back there, young lady!” he exclaimed, wearing an award winning smile, bright enough to blind, “Never seen anyone do something like that before, and I’ve been around for a while! Say, are you willing to share your secrets with a traveler from afar?”

In return, the girl graced him with a side-eyeing glare, unbothered by his swift and soundless fall from the sky - as if she was indeed a princess, looking down upon a mere peasant that managed to sneak past her bodyguards. From what the bard knew about the citizens of Khaenri’ah, chances were, a princess she might’ve been.

Her turquoise eyes were as bright as the stars themselves, and fittingly enough, her pupils resembled them as well - sharp and four pointed, almost shrunken into four thin lines as she looked him up and down. As far as he heard, those were exclusive to nobility of Khaenri'ah, a sign of their pure blood.

“Khemia,” she replied, before turning back to her book, “Basics of transmutation. Now can you go away, I’m trying to eat and you stink.”

“Oh, are you implying I don’t take proper hygiene measures when abroad? I’m hurt, deeply so!”

The girl raised one dark blonde eyebrow, “Wounded, even?”

“Hurt, young lady!”

“If you call me young lady again, you will be picking out worms from your nostrils for the rest of your life.”

“Then what should I call you instead? If you’d like, I’ll introduce myself first!” Before the girl could make it known how much she wouldn’t have liked to know his name, he offered his hand for shaking, “Venti! Venti the Bard!”

Not only did the girl not shake his hand, she looked at it as if it had been ridden with sepsis. Somehow, her already annoyed expression grew even more unimpressed.

“Rhinedottir. Not to be mistaken for my two sisters Rendottir and Rheindottir. Now can you put that away,” the girl ordered, as calmly as one could. “What do you want.”

“Well, truth be told, even though I’ve been here many times in the past for the Stjern-Falle Festival, I never quite managed to learn about Khemia from it’s source,” Venti explained upon putting his hand away, only to gesture away as he spoke, “And you seem like you know quite a lot about it, with how you’re able to use it so casually!”

For a while, the girl said nothing and merely observed the bard, expectantly - likely waiting for him to leave. Unfortunately for her, no such thing had occurred ; Venti did not undo his presence and continued sitting there, waiting for his answer as well. Had it been any other day, perhaps the girl would have entertained the idea of an out-waiting contest with her coming out as the victor. Alas, such couldn’t be, for if she continued waiting her meal would have gone cold.

“…Alright, fine,” the girl eventually relented, rolling her turquoise eyes to the sky and back, “…How do you explain white chalk in black soil, or the earth’s dense crust amidst the emptiness of space? While alchemy transmutates the inanimate, Khemia creates life, using other forms of life as a base. That’s how we can grow crops here underground. Otherwise we’d starve.”

Venti nodded, listening as attentively as one could, uttering not one word of his own.

“…But I think we can do even more with Khemia,” Rhinedottir suddenly added, idly shifting through the pages of her book. “I think that if I used the right formulas, I could create sentient life from scratch.”

“And why would you want to do that?” asked Barbatos. “Creating life is a pretty big deal. Not even gods are allowed to do that.”

The girl did not listen.

All she did was glare at him, if not at the whole world itself. Though her face was young, her gaze was not one of a small child. Sharp and heavy, it carried a weight for which the bard could not settle on a name at that time ; was it ambition or arrogance? Countless times he had seen both, and yet, neither had fit the mark.

“I want to be great,” she stated. “So I’m gonna be the greatest alchemist of all time.”

Venti just laughed under his nose and Barbatos nodded, her words engraved in his memory.

“Hope I will be there to see it for myself.”

He did, thirty Stjern-Falle Festivals later.

So did everyone else.

#rhine writing #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #rhinedottir #khaenri'ah

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #28: Percy Jackson, but make it upgraded

As anyone can tell you, the more I love something, the more hypercritical I become of its problems. And while I love PJO and the entire crazy world Rick Riordan created, it is not designed for someone whose idea of a good time is picking out contradictions and logical fallacies in everything they encounter.

So I asked myself: what would it take to have a PJO that works for me on all levels?

Just bear with me:

My biggest problem with PJO is Camp Half-Blood, especially in light of HOO's New Rome, so about half my problems here involve upgrading the Camp to a small city (called New Athens, probably). It's still small and quaint compared to New Rome, but it houses more than a handful of kids year-round. Population of 500 demigods max, most of them under the age of 21 and most of the rest either camp councilors, administration for the strawberry farm, or elderly demigods who can no longer fight monsters on their own.

More than that, I want New Athens to be a little more, well, Greek. Yes, Olympus is in NYC, but all the signposts should be in Ancient Greek, and the town should be arranged like an Ancient Greek polis - temples, agora, theaters, the works. There should be temples and altars to each of the major gods at the very least, with the heads of each cabin serving as priests for their divine parents (very much a part-time role, even in ancient Greece).

Instead of cabins, the children of each god have little compounds set somewhat apart from each other, so that it is possible - if somewhat difficult - to spend all one's time only with one's siblings. There's a greater delineation of duties amongst the cabins, but in a less stereotypical manner than Rick fell back on in the earlier books. Poseidon's compound, for instance, is responsible for guarding New Athen's coasts and maintaining its small navy; Demeter's compound grows the food and maintains the weaponized plants; Hermes' kids manage the agora and make supply runs into human towns when necessary; Aphrodite's kids help Hephaestus' clothe and arm the camp, &c.

My other major issue is the very uneven distribution of powers among the cabins. Percy gets all the powers, which works if you assume he's destined for godhood, but other kids seem to get none at all. The powers the demigods get here should still be wildly uneven, but there should be a baseline for each - something passive, like the ability to talk to their parent's sacred animal, or being able to make really good jam (Demeter) or haggle with merchants (Hermes) or see in the dark (minor chthonic gods) - and more attention given to the less well-known domains of the gods. Some Hermes' kids are really good shepherds; at least two of Apollo's kids can turn into wolves, and there's always one who seems to have adopted some of their aunt's roles and serves as Artemis' priest in New Athens; &c.

There should also be more recognized children of minor gods. Not many, and they don't have their own cabins, but they do share compounds with the children of the gods their parents are associated with. This should be a point of contention, especially in cases where there are more children of minor gods than the god in question, and several have left the camp rather than be treated like servants by less decent cabin heads.

There should also be some legacies - not many, but a few, and most of those are second-generation children of other gods. Things like, IDK, a daughter of Apollo who's also a granddaughter of Ares, or a grandson of Hermes who's also the son of a wood nymph; or the rare kid who has two demigod parents. All of Dionysus' kids during this time period should be legacies, given he's largely stuck at New Athens.

All that being said, I imagine the books themselves going in much the same way, with some minor changes:

When Percy comes to camp in TLT, yes, he's Poseidon's only demigod child, but Poseidon's compound is not empty. A handful of water nymphs live there and one or two children of minor water gods - maybe a nephew in a son of Triton, maybe a daughter of Thetis who makes a big deal her half-brother was Achilles. Regardless of the details, Percy being Poseidon's son automatically places him in charge over the older, more experienced demigods and this is a source of contention for quite a while until Percy wins them over.

Annabeth is still Annabeth, but with more adults in camp she was better supervised and not able to do things like, oh, learn the wording of a Great Prophesy and spend her time trying to find The One. (She's still rough around the edges, but she's allowed to mature over the course of the story in a way I don't feel her character was able to in the books.)

There is no Percy/Annabeth romance.

There is, however, more flushing out of the minor characters, some of whom replace Annabeth and/or Grover on Percy's later quests. SoM should be an all water demigod quest given its title, and TTC should be an all female quest with at two Hunters, a daughter of Apollo, and Thalia - and Percy following behind for half the journey.

Percy also spends more time at New Athens - he draws in far too many monsters to be allowed to leave. He either spends weekends visiting his mom in NYC or she's one of the rare humans allowed to visit New Athens often. Maybe Sally can even be the grandchild of a minor god whose demigod parent left New Athens rather than be treated badly by the children of major gods.

I've been a fan of Percy/Apollo ever since stumbling across lorixjake's Reading Percy Jackson fic, so I'd like to shoehorn that into here, but it's not a requirement - though Percy interacting with all the gods (and befriending most) is. Once he's old enough, many of these interactions should turn into blatant flirting, some more welcome than others, because there's nothing gods find so attractive as power.

Lastly, when Zeus offers Percy immortality and Percy goes, "you know, I think I'd rather have you treat your children and the minor gods better instead," Zeus says, "No, you are too dangerous to leave mortal. You must ascend." And so Percy becomes a minor god at the end of PJO rather against his will and spends the rest of eternity badgering Zeus and the others into treating their children and the minor gods better anyway, which probably works out for the better considering the events of HOO.

That's all I really have. I do like PJO, but what I really want is expansion of the early world-building and greater acknowledgment of the darker aspects of the Greek gods than would be appropriate for the age level the books were intended for. As always, feel free to adopt the plot bunny, just link back if you ever do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#fic ideas #plot bunny #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #heroes of olympus #hoo #trials of apollo #toa #camp half blood #camp jupiter

[fictionadventurer]

Worldbuilding ideas I miss from my stories set on the Island (think 1920s fairy tale L.M. Montgomery)

Amphibious mermaids who have cities built on the ocean floor with towers that rise several stories above the surface so they have both below and above-water cities.

Pixies: Tiny thumb-sized people who appear to be made of wood and have colored dragonfly wings. Have about the intelligence of your average songbird (though they do make clothes for themselves out of leaves/flower petals). Can be drawn in with sugar. A lot of people treat them as pests (its annoying when they get into the kitchen) but they're harmless and sweet.

Sylphs: The most powerful magical creatures in this universe, tend to supply all the awe-inspiring fairy godmother type magic of fairy tales. Usually go about the world invisibly doing good deeds. Will take (usually transparent) human form on extremely rare occasions, but this takes a lot of energy, so they'll usually need to be fed after doing so (and you'll want to do so because if they've taken human form, they've just done you an immense favor).

Fairy merchants who import things from the human world to the fairy world. Fairies don't like factories, but they love the products they make. (Bottles of soda pop are especially fascinating).

The entire magic system surrounding fairies. Which gets a bit detailed so here's a readmore.

Magic is a free-floating natural atmospheric element. Within the fairy realms (pocket dimensions within the forest), it's extremely bountiful. The supply is much less abundant, but still present in human domains.

Magic is drawn to iron, so iron will absorb magic in the area and prevent it from being used. This includes the iron in human blood, which makes magic especially dangerous to anyone with mixed fairy and human blood.

Magic flows freely into and out of fairies--like open channels both ways. They can freely manipulate or be around any amount of atmospheric magic and it won't harm them.

Humans can't absorb magic, so they can't access it, but being around it won't harm them.

Humans with fairy blood can absorb magic, but the magic flowing into them won't naturally flow out. They need to use the magic to prevent dangerous buildup. If they're around too much magic, or don't use up their absorbed supply fast enough, the magic poisoning can lead to hallucinations and eventually seizures, coma, and death. Fairy-blooded humans need to keep a supply of iron available to treat magic poisoning, and extreme cases are treated by bleeding the patient.

(Magic can be forced into full-blooded humans by anyone with magical ability who wants to cause the hallucinations-seizures-coma-death thing. It's not pleasant).

This is part of why human-fairy marriages have become so rare. Fairies can safely live in the fairy realm, but it's too dangerous for their children. They're much safer in the magic-light human domains. Which created the major conflict of my Twelve Dancing Princesses retelling with twelve girls who had a fairy mother and a fully-human father.

#adventures in writing #the island #this is probably much cooler in my head but i just had to talk about it #the fairy's daughters

[ladybird-with-a-pen]

Uzushiogakure

Now since I’ve been pulled into the Naruto fandom and have decided to worldbuild Uzushio, I’ll lay out some headcanons of mine and of things I’ve read from fanfics that I absolutely love.

These are specifically for a story I plan to write soon and so some of my worldbuilding is not canon at all. This is specifically made to push the story forward that I want to make.

* When Kaguya initially introduces chakra to the world, the Uzumaki clan already exists in what present day called Uzushio. They are stone workers a few families large that settled there out of a desire to get away from there war torn world. They learned how to navigate the dangerous whirlpools with their ships. Uzushio is settled in a shallow valley ringed by a large volcanic mountain range. The front faces a large bay which is ringed by several large islands.

When chakra settles into the world, a combination of the power of the whirlpools and large basins of magma under the earth draws a larger then usual amount of chakra into the bay, forming the spirit of Uzu. The Uzumaki make contact with the spirit and their souls and all their like-chakra descendants are bonded with the sentient chakra. This make it so that when the Uzumaki die, their spirits are able to stay on the earth until they want to move on. Only the Uzumaki are able to see their spirits, not even branch families that come from the Uzumaki and make their own clans can see the spirits.

With the latent chakra in the air and how much has gathered in the bay, the Uzumaki and the 4 other clans that make up the future Uzushio are granted longevity and vitality, with the Uzumaki living up to 150 year and the other clans, having come later, living to about 120.

The village of Uzushio doesn’t start out as a shinobi village and doesn’t even get that designation until Konoha is established 1000 years down the line as the first Hidden Village. Instead, they consider themselves a Chakra Village. The only people who can live in Uzushio are clans that can use chakra, as the majority of people who live in the elemental regions are civilians because they can’t use chakra. The people of Uzushio use chakra in their daily lives but are generally doing jobs that civilians do in canon, like being merchants, doctors, blacksmiths, fishermen, etc. But all of this is augmented with chakra abilities and seals. These clans that settled here were not separated and were actually called by the spirit of Uzu, who can sense the dispositions of clans and whether they were a good fit for the Uzumaki people. She called 4 clans that could come together to protect each other.

There was only one main clan that started as shinobi before they came to Uzushio in the first 100 years. They settled to be able to raise their children in peace much like they did in Konoha. But as other shinobi clans outside the Land of Eddys developed their own Kekkei Genkai, they found that their singular abilities was not enough to protect the merchants and clan civilians that wanted to travel as well as fulfill the daimyo and nobles requests. So they offered to train any person who wanted to become a shinobi. With this and other clans having already developed clan and chakra abilities and seals but not using them much for combat, the citizens of Uzushio are easily able to add a military side to their Village.

The Uzumaki were not originally royalty. While a daughter of Asura did marry into the clan and their members regularly chosen as the leader or Seiza (named for constellations who the fishermen followed as guides), they did not become royally until a Uzumaki leader married the only heir of the Daimyo. It was then decided that because of the Land of Eddys only extending a few islands past the domain of Uzushio, the roles of Daimyo and Seiza be merged, with the nobles city still existing and having their roles but the center of the government residing within the city of Uzushio. The samurai were appointed to be the guard of the nobles. Thankfully with the Land of Eddy’s being so small, the nobles have a pretty humble disposition for nobles and are rich off of land trade. Eventually as time wore on, the nobility died out and the samurai clans left for other lands. It was from then on that it became normalized for the main line Uzumaki to raise their children as future leaders of Uzushio from childhood.

Uzu has a big role in how Uzushio operates. Not only does she have to approve of the future leader of Uzushio, but she also decides if one is considered a part of Uzushio. While every child has a seal drawn on the bottom of their big toe at birth as to be able to recognize another Uzushioian by touching them, Uzu inhabits the space of Uzushio from the mountain range to the islands borders, below the seas and above. She also is connected to every body of water connected to the ocean. So even if a Uzushioian dips their toe in a stream in Kiri, if it’s connected to the ocean, Uzu can detect their innermost intentions. So if one marked with the seal but plans betray another Uzushioian, their seal is wiped away from their body and they are no longer considered part of Uzushio.

Thats all for now. I’ll probably explain in further depth who the clans are and other smaller details of Uzushio and it’s culture. But it could go on for awhile.

#naruto #uzushio #uzushiogakure #village hidden in the eddys #worldbuilding #yeah guys I have like #so many ideas #I’ve been so intrigued with this #The Spirit of Uzu AU

[writingwhimsey]

All's Fair In Love & War- Nobunaga Ch. 1

Chapter 1

It was the day after the alliance had become official between the Oda and the Yamada. Nobunaga sat in the tenshu, looking over some documents as he turned a smooth stone absentmindedly in his hand. He had plenty of his daily duties to oversee, plenty to keep his mind occupied.

And yet he couldn’t completely focus on his work. His mind kept returning to the meeting yesterday when Lord Ava Yamada had walked in. She was small in stature and yet she carried herself as if she were a giant. She walked with all the confidence of someone born to her position. She didn’t cow to anyone. Not to Hideyoshi and his reprimands. Not to Nobunaga himself.

He had to admit, she fascinated and intrigued him. She had a fiery spirit he admired. One of the reasons he had been happy to come to an agreement on the terms of their alliance. Though he did have to wonder, just what made her agree to it. She could have just as easily taken the same stance as her father. That she wouldn’t ally with him, but also wouldn’t stand against him.

“Is there something troubling you, Lord Nobunaga?” Ranmaru asked, as he came into the room, carrying more reports for Nobunaga to look over.

“Nothing troubling.” Nobunaga answered. “I am just thinking that I am looking forward to the banquet tonight. It should be a lively affair.”

“I bet. I think Lady…I mean Lord Ava will make a great addition to everyone.” Ranmaru replied, smiling.

“You were in her domain for a few days, what did you think?” Nobunaga asked.

“From what I saw, she seems to be a great lord.” Ranmaru answered. “Her people seem happy and prosperous…and her men, they all have a great respect for her.”

“Is that so?” Nobunaga asked.

Ranmaru nodded. “Yes…I had a chance to speak to a few of them. Not all of them immediately respected her, but they came around in her first battle.”

“She earned their respect with her skills?” Nobunaga asked.

Ranmaru shook his head. “Not exactly. I mean from what I understand she was impressive then, but also she had thrown herself between one of her men and an enemy to protect him, even though he had only gotten into the situation in the first place because he didn’t listen to her strategy.”

Nobunaga seemed intrigued by this information. “Really?”

Ranmaru nodded. “At least that’s what they said. She is also apparently a great strategist and manages to go into battle with the fewest casualties.”

“I see.” Nobunaga said. “Our newest ally seems to be rather intriguing…and seems to be a good addition.”

Meanwhile Ava…

While waiting for the evening to come for the banquet, I had decided to check out the castle town. Mitsunari had been kind enough to draw up some maps. Sato and Jiro had come with me, but we all decided to explore different things in the market. We agreed to meet up back at the castle gates later.

As I was walking through the streets of Azuchi, I was struck by how lively everything was. Children were laughing and playing as they ran about. Merchants were selling all kinds of wares, some that I wouldn’t have thought would be seen other than in a large port city. Of course, I then recalled some of the policies Nobunaga had enacted, which were a bit radical for this time, but they allowed trade to thrive and for people to take control of their own lives.

I had stopped to examine some beautiful pieces at a shop, when I heard a woman screaming from an alleyway. Instantly I put down the piece I was looking at and ran to the sound of the screaming woman. I found the woman struggling to get away from an incredibly large man, who was gripping her arm rather tightly.

“I said let me go! I told you no!” She shouted.

“Come on, you know if you stick with me and play nice, I’ll take care of you.” The man replied, leering at her. 

The way the pair were dressed, it was easy to see that he was a soldier, and the poor girl was an everyday citizen. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” I called to the man, my voice calm as I gave him a death glare. 

“You stay outta this!” The man shouted as he turned to me. He then laughed as he looked at me. “Run along little girl, this doesn’t concern you. Unless you wanna take her place.”

“Run, save yourself.” The woman said, looking at me.

I shook my head. “Sure, I’ll take her place and I’ll make you regret ever laying a hand on her…and make you think twice about ever harming a woman or anyone else ever again. She said no and to let her go. So let her go, you bastard.”

The man grinned as he lifted the woman up by her wrist and was then letting go so that she fell to the ground. She let out a yelp and held her arm to her chest. “Are you alright?” I asked her, ignoring the man as he started to step closer to me.

“Y-yeah…” She answered, though I could see tears in her eyes. “You…you should get out of here…he’s just…too strong.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I told her.

“Hey, don’t you ignore me.” The man said as he stepped ever closer to me.

I turned from the woman to look at him, my face blank. “I’m barely going to break a sweat.” I told him. “You want to pick on someone, at least pick on someone who isn’t defenseless. Come and get me.”

The glared, clearly angry from my goading. He lunged at me and I nimbly dodged his attack, causing him to fall to the ground just outside the alley. “Oooh, missed you better try again.” I said.

“I’ll show you, you little bitch.” The man said, picking himself up. He was then coming at me again. I dodged his attack once more.

Our match was soon in the middle of the street. He would attack me and I would simply dodge, waiting for just the right moment. He was wasting so much energy. He roared a wordless cry as he lunged for me again. This time, as I moved, I grabbed him by the wrist and redirected his momentum, using it to fling him over my shoulder. He was clearly twice my size, but that didn’t matter when you know how to turn your opponent’s own body against them.

“What the hell?!” He shouted as he landed on the ground.

I smiled at him. “You wanna try again?” I asked.

He was getting up then. “You smug little bitch, you just got lucky. I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face and then teach you what a real man is.”

“Please, I have more balls than you.” I replied.

He came at me again. This time I blocked his fist while bringing my knee to his soft belly. We continued to fight like this, a crowd of onlookers gathering around us, watching each time as the man came at me only for me to deliver a blow to him or bring him to the ground. He had blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth and was coated in sweat, two of his teeth lying on the ground.

Just as he was about to get up and come for me again, there was a stern voice shouting from the crowd. “What in the eight hells is going on?”

The soldier and I both turned as Hideyoshi was breaking through the ring of onlookers. The man looked panicked. “L-lord Hideyoshi…I was just…I was just having a discussion with one of the townspeople when this crazy bitch came after me.”

“A discussion? Is that what you call harassing one of the citizens you are sworn to protect?” I asked.

Hideyoshi looked between me and the solider. Before he could say anything, the woman the soldier had been harassing was coming out of the crowd. “It’s true, my lord. He was hurting me, trying to take me off alone in that alley…this woman was the only one to come to my aid.”

“She’s a lying bitch!” The soldier shouted. “She wanted me, she was just trying to play hard to get! She should be bowing down to serve me…”

It was at this moment, Hideyoshi was punching the man in the jaw. “We don’t stand above our citizens.” He told the soldier. “We stand in front of them to protect them from harm…we also don’t attack our allies.”

The soldier was blinking up at Hideyoshi and then looking at me. “What…”

“She is Lord Yamada.” Hideyoshi said, pointing to me.

The soldier’s eyes widened in surprise. Hideyoshi was then ordering a few other soldiers to come and take this man away. He was then turning to the woman the soldier had been harassing. He bowed to her. “I am truly sorry for his actions. What he did was not befitting of an Oda soldier and I am truly sorry for what he did to you.”

I swear I saw the woman’s eyes turn into hearts as she looked at Hideyoshi. “Oh, thank you, my lord…and it’s not necessary for you to bow to me.” She said. She was then turning to me and bowing. “And thank you for stepping in…Lord Yamada.”

I smiled at her. “Think nothing of it.” I told her. “Is your arm okay?”

“A little sore and I think there will be a bruise, but I don’t think anything is broken. Thank you so much.”

“You should probably go see the doctor to have your arm looked at.” Hideyoshi told her.

She nodded. “Yeah…thank you again.” She said to me, bowing before leaving, a group of women coming up to her to walk with her. They must have been her family.

The crowd was dispersing then and Hideyoshi was turning to me. “Why did you jump in like that?” He asked. “That man was easily twice your size. He could have seriously hurt you.”

I blinked in surprise for a moment and then had to fight to keep myself from breaking out in a fit of laughter. This couldn’t be the same man from last night who was questioning joining an alliance with me and scolding me for speaking impertinently to his liege lord. Apparently he was a mother hen type.

“I’ll never stand down or walk away when someone is hurting another person. Especially when that other person is defenseless. If I get hurt in the process so be it, but I won’t go down without putting a hurting on them first.” I replied.

Hideyoshi was then looking me over. “You’re bleeding.” He said, pulling out a hand towel and coming over to dab at a spot on my forehead.

“Oh, that’s not my blood.” I replied. “The guy never landed a blow on me.”

“I see.” Hideyoshi replied. “We should probably head back to the castle so you can get cleaned up before the banquet then…and I’ll need to report to Lord Nobunaga.”

“Right.” I replied, though hideyoshi was still dabbing at my forehead. I had to fight the urge to cry as his fussing was reminding me so much of my mother. “L-let’s just go.”

Hideyoshi handed me to hand towel and then we began to walk back to the castle together. “Thank you…for stepping in and defending one of Azuchi’s people.” He said after a moment.

“It was nothing.” I replied. “I can’t stand for anyone picking on those they deem weaker…. Harassing and harming the people they are supposed to protect.”

We spent the rest of the walk back to the castle in silence. Sato and Jiro were already waiting at the gates. “Looks like our lord is already making impressions.” Sato said with a laugh.

“Well, at least it doesn’t look like she killed anyone. That’s not THAT much blood.” JIro said.

“Just had to handle something.” I replied.

“Is…is this something that regularly happens?” Hideyoshi asked, looking at my people.

Jiro nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Yeah, Lord Ava can’t stand for anyone to cause harm to an innocent. She’ll readily step in when needed.” Sato replied.

“Without any regard for her own safety…though her own safety is pretty secure. I’ve yet to see anyone lay a hand on her before.” Jiro replied.

Hideyoshi sighed. “Well, you better go get cleaned up and ready. I’ll be reporting everything to Lord Nobunaga.” He said. “And thank you again, Lord Ava.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Later that night…

Once I was all cleaned up and dressed for the banquet, I headed to the main hall with Sato and Jiro. When we walked inside, the aroma of delicious food filled the air. The Oda warlords were already gathered, sitting in the same seats as the previous night.

“Don’t be shy, have a seat.” Msamune said, looking at me as he patted an empty space beside him. 

I decided to take the invitation and sat beside him, while Sato and Jiro took seats beside Mitsunari.

“You better eat up, lass.” Masamune said to me. “I don’t want to see all this delicious food I made go to waste.”

I smiled. “I would never waste food…especially good food.” I was then picking up my chopsticks and digging in. The first bite was an explosion of flavor on my tongue. And the texture was perfect. The right amount of crispy on the outside and tender and juicy on the inside.

“Oh, that is good food.” Jiro said from his seat.

“I think Lord Masamune is giving you a run for your money, Ava.” Sato said, grinning at me.

“I’d have to say you’re right.” I replied with a smile. “This is the best food I have ever tasted.”

Masamune was grinning. “Glad you like it…though did I hear them right that you’re a cook too?”

“Sometimes you just have to step in the kitchen yourself to make sure the food gets done and the people eat.” I replied with a shrug.

“My, my she cooks and beats up misbehaving soldiers in the streets.” Mitsuhide said with a smile.

Ieyasu sighed. “Great another hot head who throws themselves into the thick of it without thinking.”

I looked over at Hideyoshi. He was the only one that knew about my fight in the market this afternoon.

“Hideyoshi reported your deeds to all of us.” Nobunaga spoke up, looking at me. “I commend you for your work.”

“Thank you…” I replied. “Though it was really nothing. I did what anyone who can fight would do.”

“Yeah, but to start a fight with someone twice your size.” Masamune said, grinning at me. “You’re definitely something else, lass.”

“It was truly an astonishing deed.” Mitsunari agreed.

I shrugged off their praise. “It’s nothing the rest of you wouldn’t have done in my shoes.” I countered.

“Well, at least she’s not braggart like the rest of you.” Ieyasu muttered.

The party went on, all of us chatting and filling our bellies and sharing drinks. Though I did notice that Masamune stuck with water or tea, skipping out on sake. Once the food was gone, the party still continued as we all drank and shared stories.

“Ava…”

I looked up at the sound of the commanding voice coming from the dias. “Yes Nobunaga?”

“Come, share a drink with me.” He said, gesturing to a space beside him.

I nodded as I stood up and headed to join him. “Allow me to pour for you.” I said, getting the bottle of sake.

“Alright, and I shall pour for you.” Nobunaga agreed.

I knew both of these acts were an honor, pouring for Nobunaga and him pouring for me. It appeared I had earned his respect. We poured drinks for each other and then Nobunaga was toasting. “To our alliance, may  it be long a fruitful.”

“To our alliance.” I agreed before we both sipped our drinks.

We drank in silence for a moment as the party continued on around us. Our closest allies and vassals drinking and laughing around us. Nobunaga spoke. “Tell me, Ava, do you play Go?” He asked me.

The question surprised me, but then I smiled. Since I knew he and my father played together, the question did make sense. “I do.” I replied. “My father taught me. He used it as a way to teach me about strategy.”

“Your father was a smart man.” He replied. “And clearly trained you well.”

“He was and he did.” I agreed.

“Tomorrow night, join me in the tenshu for a game. I want to see just how well your father taught you.”

“I would be honored.” I replied, smiling. This would be interesting indeed. I knew the outcomes of the games between Nobunaga and my father…and my father taught me everything I knew.

#ikesen nobunaga #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen au #ikesen fanfic #ikesen fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #au #warlord mc #oc #mc #ikesen mc #walord ikesen mc #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #cybird #otome boys #chapter 1

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

A Prophecy against Tyre

1 The burden of Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish; for it is laid waste, so that there is no house, no entering in: from the land of Chittim it is revealed to them.

2 Be still, ye inhabitants of the isle; thou whom the merchants of Zidon, that pass over the sea, have replenished.

3 And by great waters the seed of Sihor, the harvest of the river, is her revenue; and she is a mart of nations.

4 Be thou ashamed, O Zidon: for the sea hath spoken, even the strength of the sea, saying, I travail not, nor bring forth children, neither do I nourish up young men, nor bring up virgins.

5 As at the report concerning Egypt, so shall they be sorely pained at the report of Tyre.

6 Pass ye over to Tarshish; howl, ye inhabitants of the isle.

7 Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days? her own feet shall carry her afar off to sojourn.

8 Who hath taken this counsel against Tyre, the crowning city, whose merchants are princes, whose traffickers are the honourable of the earth?

9 The Lord of hosts hath purposed it, to stain the pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt all the honourable of the earth.

10 Pass through thy land as a river, O daughter of Tarshish: there is no more strength.

11 He stretched out his hand over the sea, he shook the kingdoms: the Lord hath given a commandment against the merchant city, to destroy the strong holds thereof.

12 And he said, Thou shalt no more rejoice, O thou oppressed virgin, daughter of Zidon: arise, pass over to Chittim; there also shalt thou have no rest.

13 Behold the land of the Chaldeans; this people was not, till the Assyrian founded it for them that dwell in the wilderness: they set up the towers thereof, they raised up the palaces thereof; and he brought it to ruin.

14 Howl, ye ships of Tarshish: for your strength is laid waste.

15 And it shall come to pass in that day, that Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years, according to the days of one king: after the end of seventy years shall Tyre sing as an harlot.

16 Take an harp, go about the city, thou harlot that hast been forgotten; make sweet melody, sing many songs, that thou mayest be remembered.

17 And it shall come to pass after the end of seventy years, that the Lord will visit Tyre, and she shall turn to her hire, and shall commit fornication with all the kingdoms of the world upon the face of the earth.

18 And her merchandise and her hire shall be holiness to the Lord: it shall not be treasured nor laid up; for her merchandise shall be for them that dwell before the Lord, to eat sufficiently, and for durable clothing. — Isaiah 23 | King James Version (KJV) The King James Version Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 10:4; Genesis 10:15; Genesis 10:19; Exodus 14:21; Exodus 15:14; Joshua 2:9; Joshua 13:3; 1 Chronicles 13:5; Job 40:11-12; Psalm 72:9-10 and 11; Isaiah 2:11; Isaiah 2:16; Isaiah 5:25; Isaiah 10:5; Isaiah 19:7; Isaiah 22:2; Isaiah 32:13; Isaiah 47:1; Isaiah 47:5; Isaiah 60:5; Jeremiah 10:9; Jeremiah 25:11; Jeremiah 25:22; Ezekiel 26:12-13; Ezekiel 26:18; Ezekiel 27:25-26; Ezekiel 27:35; Ezekiel 28:21; Micah 1:7; Micah 4:13; Nahum 3:4; Luke 10:13; Revelation 18:22-23

[thecatspirits]

[Shown above is a map drawn on a stained and burnt cloth by Rust & Pillar, well, mostly Rust... Pillar collected the charcoal and water but her artistic skills are far beneath Rust's. The map shows a semi-detailed and slightly fantastical depiction of the City Domains, with important locations highlighted with dandelion dye.]

•❅───✧❅ᓚᘏᗢ❅✧───❅•

"The City is a dangerous place, plagued with cats cursed to live forever in the grasps of the before times. The streets are haunted by the two-legged beasts and their metal monsters.

Never go into the City..."

The City is the home of the Domains, ruled by three leaders known only as Fury, Rage and Fear. The Guilds view their home as the Cursed Lands, touched by the corruption of the enslavers, a group of two-legged creatures who forced cats into submission. This corruption is so feared that the Guilds refuse to have their borders touch the City, so between the two powerful territories lies a stretch of land known as the Border Lands. To the north though lies the perhaps even more dangerous Barren, a polluted place of dust and stone with not a single speck of green in sight. Calidiem once rested their, shrouding the dying ground in mystery. Only the most daring ventured into it, until the Great Storm ...

Below is a detailed description of each major location and even a few extras ;)

!WARNING! Implied trafficking can be found in the following two paragraphs of text. Please proceed with caution!

•❅───✧❅ᓚᘏᗢ❅✧───❅•

~Domain Of Fury~

The eastern territory ruled by Fury, a short-tempered tom feared for his, erm, disgusting acts. The Domain Of Fury is renowned for being the worst area of the City to live in. It is the strictest and most uninclusive region, restricting the rich and powerful to the innermost, least-flooded region and the poor to the outskirts. The wealthiest cats, including Fury, enjoy the luxurious and clean Center. They have regular access to the Gathering Place where cats come from all the Domains to trade goods, for a price of course. Unfortunately, Fury's Domain is the most well-known in the... uh... uhm... trading of cats. Rust and Pillar know this fact all too well...

-Hideout-

The place where Rust and Pillar live. It's on the outskirts of the Domain Of Fury, meaning they live a life of scavenging and illegal trade with the merchants who live in the Border Lands. The Hideout is a multi-story, ruined building, and the pair of siblings have made their home on an open balcony protected by a barb wire fence. Rust tends to his garden and craft items while Pillar is away in the Barren scavenging. He also carefully dusts of the shrine each day- Ah! I've said to much already... Best let them tell you about that in their own time.

-Fury's Bastion-

The place where the daemon resides. If a daemon had cat ears and tabby fur that is. Fury makes his home in a rundown library, though you couldn't tell it was a library anymore. Not much is known about what lies inside it, Pillar has tried to nag Bullet about finding out for her, but even a high-born cat rarely enters the heavily guarded bastion.

-Bullet's Home-

This is where Bullet, Pillar and Rust's cousin, lives. Close to the Center due to his mother's status as Fury's sister, Bullet has the privelege of a roof and warm, cooked meals. Pillar has only been here once, and she barely remembers it now. She was in daze of starvation after all.

*Note: This location is NOT marked on the map.*

~Domain of Rage~

The Domain Of Rage is the southern-most region of the know world. Known for his commanding presence, Rage's land are quiet and eerie. His cats live in the shadows, and no true social structure exists. It's every cat for themselves.

Rage's Domain is the most flooded, lying in the lowland region that was once stereotyped as a place of "white picket fences and privelege." The cats here live off of whatever they can find, and during tough seasons, some cats have gone mysteriously missing, their bodies never recovered...

-Rage's Bastion-

The quiet and ever calculating leader resides in a former office building, weathered by time. Pillar knows nothing about this place aside from the tiny pieces of knowledge Bullet managed to find out. Beyond this location is a huge stretch of open ground and few huge buildings.

~Domain of Fear~

Some pretty fishy cats live here. Oh and a shit ton of seagulls too. Can't forget those guys ;) Nobody really know's if Fear is even still alive, he hasn't been seen by outsiders for seasons, with only ambassadors sending messages on his behalf. Her? Their? Who knows who they are honestly.

The cats of Fear's Domain have it the best. Or thats what others think. Life for them is a rigid chore, and despite their extensive supplies of food, cats are always miserable. At least they have endurance due to all the shady "errands" they have to run.

-Fear's Bastion-

Based off rough estimates Pillar has made, she reckons this is where the elusive Fear lives. Though she can't really see any major buildings in the area that would indicate the home of an esteemed leader... Hmm...

-The Bridge-

Technically this lies within the borders of the Domain Of Fear, but not even they would risk getting the terrifying Decay, a sickness that causes you to waste away within days. Paralysis, vomiting, nausea, you name it and the Decay causes it. Not a fun time. Sure, it's got good fishing spots, but the broken bridge is a deadly place to go on an adventure.

~Other Locations~

-The Divide-

The boundary between the territories of each City Domain. Often quick trades occur hear but the most common site in the Divide is the trading of cats. It's a normalized practice but even the worst tyrants have a desire to keep it under wraps and away from prying eyes.

-Blood Guild-

The nemesis of the City Domains, the Blood Guild was established only a few seasons ago by the runt son of Jhak, Son of Rage, and Quiver, Daughter of Fear. Cats are forbidden from entering this place or speaking about it and it's members.

-The Barren-

The dying lands beyond the City and The Guilds, it is believed that the Great Storm came from here where Calidiem once lay resting, supposedly dormant for eternity. Nomads, merchants and scavengers travel through these lands that even long-dead spirits seem to fear.

-The Border Lands-

Simply the stretch of the land between the Guilds and the City Domains, more specifically the Lightning Guild. It is a grassy land filled with useful plants and the occasional animal.

-Lightning Guild-

Ď̶͎͕̫͖̼͍̭̻͌͐̈́͆͗̎͜O̵̱̠͗̈́̊͗ ̴̡̛̻̾̑̄N̵̨̧̡̹̩̯̪̺̯̿́̓Ǫ̶̦̫̖͔̣́̈̃͆͑̉̚͝T̶͚̆͒̒͗̽̍̉͜͠͝ ̶͔͇̲͖͓̾̇͗̊̈́̇͝Ē̷͖̳̜̗̓̀̐̀N̴̫̰͕̣͈͉̱̣̦͒̔͛̌͒̍ͅT̷̛͈̤̤̤͉̗̺̲̻̩̄̆͆̊͂̕͝E̴̥̯̭̫͚̒̊̂͗͝R̵̟̪͛̋ ̸̨̧͙͉͎̥̣̜͂̈́ͅT̸͇̦̬̥͇̯̹̈́̾͆̑̓̆̊̕̚͝ͅH̵̨̲̫̳͙̰̪͖̜̽̈̓̆̓̈̕ͅḘ̸̙̞̲̊́̅̀̆̈́̌̾̈ ̶̺̦̠͑͝F̷̞̙̦̬̭̞̊̂̂̕͘͠͝O̵̝͍̯̫̻͂̈R̶̢͉̤̼̼͕̱͕̀͌̾͛͜͠E̶̦̥̗̜̎̈́̽̊S̵͉͚̎̋T̴͔͇͒̕.̸̮̮͍̦̹̳̼̙̼̗͌͛̄̈́͛̎̑͑́͝

•❅───✧❅ᓚᘏᗢ❅✧───❅•

DO NOT COPY, STEAL OR REUSE MY WORK! YOUR ACCOUNT WILL BE REPORTED!

#Asteros AU #xenomoggy #Asteros Lore #Asteros Map #I don't know what I'm doingggg sorry if this is bad #feel free to send me questions about all this :) #I say to the like six people who are following me XD #I didn't edit this so hopefully it is grammatically correct lol

[tgrailwar-zero]

So does that mean Cu holds two Trigger Keys or is he an eighth Lair Servant? And what about the one being sold by that merchant?

Also, once again thank you for all this help! What did we do to deserve an awesome guy like you sticking around to help pull our dumb asses out of the fire we got ourselves into?

"I'm guessin' the one bein' sold is because Mandricardo's data got dumped, so even his shell protectin' the key was worthless, and therefore it got pawned off as an extra prize item. Cu-Cu is Lair Servant #7. Not entirely sure what happened to the previous one, either my memory is screwy, they were destroyed without chance of repair, or there just wasn't one, and the Solar Cell used ol' Lancer to fill in the blank. Seven Lair Servants holding one, one being sold, and six with shells of your remaining Servants."

"It cracks down like this, since outside of the Citadels, there are seven major landmarks areas."

The Nameless City, protected by ???.

The Gossamer Coast, protected by Quetzalcoatl (Key retrieved).

Flicker Port, protected by ???.

Fugue Hamlet, protected by ???.

Sunbeam Row, protected by ???.

Pyrrhic Forest, protected by Cu Chulainn.

Transient Megalopolis , protected by ???.

"The Lair Servants are fickle. Some mind their own business until someone specifically enters their, well, lair. Like ol' Quetz. She let the NPC people of the Coast do their thing, and made sure none of them accidentally wandered into her deadly domain. Others are more hands-on towards the NPCs, namely the Row, Megalopolis, and City. The metropolitan ones, I guess. Considering how the Red Faction is running around the Nameless City, I'd wager they made a deal with the Lair Servant there somehow."

#thgw story #liminal chat

[mask131]

Magic the Gathering: Innistrad (Innistrad block)

My favorite Land cards

The plane of Innistrad is divided in four great regions, called the "Provinces".

The first province, Gavony, is the "safest" area for humans in Innistra, and thus the province with the highest number of humans. Gavony is home to Thraben, the High City. Ah, Thraben! The largest city of the continent. The center of the Church of Avacyn. A fortress built to resist all supernatural attacks. It is here that Avacyn the Archangel once resided, wthin Thraben's Great Cathedral, and the city is located on the mesa of a lake known as the "Lake of the Herons" (in Innistrad, herons are believed to the the birds of the moon, and by extension symbolize goodness and Avacyn's power). At the northern edge of Gavony, Thraben is a city of cleanliness and order, inhabited mostly by clerics, merchants and artisans. Everything is neatly divided and organized within the city, usually in ways reflecting the social order. Take the Great Cathedral. During worship, it divides itself in three parts: the Chapel of Noble Peers (opulent, gilded chapel for high-level clergymen and nobility) ; Midvast Hall (larger and less opulent hall, for ordained people and the lesser clergy) ; Common Cloisters (covered corridors alongside Midvast Hall, where commoners stand during worship). The divisions extends to the numerous walls that surround Thraben - some old, some recent, some well-kept, some in ruins, some great, some small, they form a complex interwoven puzzle. There are five main walls: the Outer Wall (main defense of the city, thick and high wall that has been several time expanded to avoid the overcrowding of the city) ; the Merchant's Wall (a series of halls that acts as the market square and commerce-center in the city) ; the Bloodless Wall (a prison for vampires, where they are chained to the wall and left to starve to death) ; the Fang Wall (an execution ground for werewolves, their fangs are embedded between the stones of the wall) ; and the Child's Wall (Thraben's oldest wall, surrounding the Old Cathedral, with the name of every child born in Innistrad engraved on it - it is a pilgrimage site for new parents, who believe having their child's name on the wall expands their life).

From Thraben, all sorts of "smaller towns radiate outward", throughout Gavony's rocky moors, and rolling hills and heaths, dotted with "small copses of trees". Safety is the main concern and currency in Gavony: the rich, wealthy and powerful live comfortably within fortified manors, while the poor spend all of their money on talismans, magic wards and blessings of the Church (because the Church does ask for a bit of money in exchange of their heavenly power). And while there is a growing resentment towards the Church's greed and self-centeredness (the higher ups of the Church, with sheltered and comfortable lives, tend to not understand the harshness of the rest of the continent), there is still a very strong sense of community within humanity in the province, and the Church stays the basis of human society. As the Guide to Gavony explains: the basic social unit of Gavony is a parish, organized around a local chapel, and they can be as tight as clans. In Innistrad, the Church is the State and the State is the Church: judges and lawyers are ordained by the Church, and in return the Church keeps confirming and supporting the rule of the law. All education across Innistrad is the domain of the Church. Merchants and artisans are the only jobs that are technically free and independant from the Church, but even them have to respect the Church, because their guilds and organizations (called "fellowships" have to be sanctioned by the Church.

Unfortunately, having a high population of humans also means Gavony has the largest numbers of cemeteries across Innistrad - which also means more undeads and more geists than elsewhere on the continent.

The second province is Kessig, the "vast, wooded hinterland" of Innistrad. It is said that autumn is perpetual within these deep woods, for the green constantly mixes itself with golds and muted reds ; and at night, under the moonlight, everything become "stark and steel-like". Humans carved themselves farming villages and rolling farmlands within the dense, dark woods ; and if they are not farmers, they will be hunters and trappers. But everybody knows that it is a suicidal act than to venture in the woods at night: Ulvenwald, the misty woods, are haunted by both ghosts and werewolves. Ulvenald is almost "supernaturally dense" - no normal wood can have so much aspen, birch and maple trees growing in such a dark, sinuous and compact ensemble. Travellers of the forest at best will be haunted or attacked by spirits and beasts - at worst, they will mysteriously disappear in the mist.

The humans who live in Kessig have a life strongly focused on work. You need to work to survive: Kessigers learned to be self-reliant, pragmatic and plainspoken. They are farmers, millers, weavers and stonemasons: they don't purchase their tools, they do it themselves ; they do not learn mathematics or history, they learn the harvest cycles and the edible weeds. They are hard-headed and unpretentious - and are part of Avacyn's religion in their own way. They do not trust the cathars (holy warriors) of the big cities ; they do not like the Gavony ghost-hunters who are too pritine and shiny ; they do not understand the decrees of the aristocrats of the High City of Thraben... But they believe in Avacyn with all their heart, and their motto is: "The worked earth below us, the hand-hewn stone walls around us, and the angel above us". This is their world. Given superstition and fear rules in Kessig, it is polite when you meet someone for the first time to show that you wear an item made of silver (unfortunately there is a lot of "counterfeit" silver going around, especially sold at Nephalia). Wreaths of living wood are a common gift, and are placed on the door of homes where a child was just born. Before going onto a journey, people either fast up to a whole day, or eat sour root soup : it is believed it makes humans less appealing for werewolves and hungry beasts. To be fat and well-fed in Kessig is to become an easy prey. A local tradition in Kessig is the "Sleep Revel". On the anniversary of a person's death, they are celebrated - or rather, one successful year stayed in the ground is celebrated. The "undisturbed sleep of one's ancestors is seen as almost a greater blessing than the continuing birthdays of one's living relatives".

The werewolves are the main dangers in Kessig, because they haunt the woods in packs or as lone wolves. It is known that the "howlpacks" as they are called wane and waxe with the moon, and that many werewolves live secretly among Kessigers (causing a lot of suspicion and speculation among Kessig's human communities). Add to that the fact nobody agrees on how to detect, hunt or cure werewolves - let's just say persecution and prejudice can run rampant around. Kessig is also a land plagued by geists - but not "regular" geists like other provinces, oh no! These are green-aligned geists, that is to say not ghosts of the living, but wild spirits of nature opposing the civilized life. Mischievous poltergeists, blood mists that devour the living, surreal fires that burn of a cold flame, beautiful nature spirits of vine and thorn, feral possessed beasts... Due to the omnipresence of werewolves and nature spirits, most of the other supernatural threats are banished, but it doesn't mean they are not absent... For example, at the foot of tall stone hills, a smoking and boiling fissure called the "Devil's Breach" is known to cause minor and sporadic demonic activity.

Trivia: Due to not having much around, Kessigers consider zombies as symbols of the "evils of the big city", and in their mind they associate and equate "necromantic alchemy" with all the other vices of "big cities": murderous conspiracies, black market, religious heresy, and prostitution.

I will place the two other provinces under the cut:

The third province is Stensia, which is fully and completely under the control of vampires. Stensia is known as the "darkest" part of Innistrad, figuratively and literaly. The sun never manages to fully shines beyond Stensia's perpetual cover of oddly-colored clouds - only the light of the moon can truly appear. It is a very mountainous area dominated by the "Geier Reach", a mountain chain of impossibly high peaks of indigo and black rocks. The forests there are of evergreen, forested midlands of black pine "riddled with whisps of thick fog". The mountains split the region into two distinctive valleys with a dusky pastoral charm, and two distinctive bogs, where old graves and dead conifers slowly sink. The mountains also separate the wary human villages inhabited by fearful, if not paranoid humans, who stay however loyal to their land and passionate about their lifestyle ; from the vampire manors and the blood-thirsty rulers of the region. Right in the middle of the mountains, you can find Ashmouth, a deep chasm glowing with magma at the bottom - and a literal gateway to Hell...

Stensia is divided between "human culture" and "vampire culture". The human villages are prepared for vampire attacks: they are all circled by moats (that vampires cannot cross when the moon is out), and they have nearby hawthorn tree groves to keep access to "living wood". Large cottages and rich people place mirrors on their frontdoors, and build their house near a hawhthorn tree, that the eldest child of the family must care for. Due to the rocky soil and dim light of the region, Stensia humans are not farmers, but relies on sheep for their woll, milk, leather and meat - Stensian wool is said to be the finest of all Innistrad, and thanks to the vampires' presence, werewolves do not haunt the area. Generations of seeing their children and neighbors die, and of living near the vampire threat, made humans stoic, non-expressive and non-demonstrative. They are proud and fervent, but will seem rude, violent and cold to outsiders.

Vampires meanwhile, are self-centered narcissists who believe themselves the guardians and "shepherds" of humanity, and that the sacrifice of their humanity is somehow something humans should "honor". Vampires are basically the most decadent nobility you will ever find, living in days of feasts, balls and parties, keeping all sorts of grudges and organizing betrayals just to amuse themselves, demanding the finest and most luxurious items for themselves. Olivia Voldaren, a prominent vampire of the area (I posted her card in the Multicolor section), invented a disturbing three-days feast called "The Court of the Vampire King/Queen". The principle is simple: kidnap a human being, bring him to the greatest gathering of vampires of Stensia, and name them "King of the Vampires" or "Queen of the Vampires". This is a vampire's Carnival or Feast of Fools: the mock-queen is served the best foods and drinks, entertained by all sorts of shows, and the vampires around must obey the human's every command (except those of making the ruler "abdicate"). At the end of the three days of party, the human is killed and their blood shared among all the revelers.

The last province is Nephalia, the coastal side of Innistrad. Nephalia is the watery region of the continent - nearly treeless, it faces the foggy and dark sea of Innistrad, and all the rivers of the inland end up here, creating all srots of deltas, marshes and bogs. The beach is made of a silvery sand, the towns are all here small or medium-sized ports, and the region is filled by a system of tunnels, underground pathways and sea-caves known as the Erdwal or "The Ditch". It was originally a set of trenches between the three main towns to resist zombie and werewolf attacks. Then it became a "network of defensible walkways" to transport the goods and ensure the trades in a region filled with hungry zombies, angry geists and demons. Merchants turned this system into the true "artery of trade", and then a "bustling underground economy" appeared within it, "in all manner of grey and black market goods". On the Erdwall you can buy assassins, human blood, curses, necromancy spells... It is a "trench marketplace of colorful rogues, seedy merchants, filfthy sailors and gaunt stangers, all doing business in dark alleyways and roughly hewn tunnels branching off the main trench". Alchemists, skaberen and ghoulcallers have a notably active presence there - selling human blood, buying pieces of corpses for their flesh golems, dealing with transmutation of base metals into pure silver... Sometimes a "defective" creation of a skaberen can get loose and slaughter all those in the tunnels. Nephalia managed to create a cold "understanding" and an uneasy "truce" with the Church of Avacyn - as long as those dark dealings happen below the ground, the Church won't do anything. This is why it is commonly said that "sloughs, sea mists and mysteries cloak Nephalia's commerce and crimes".

Nephalia is notorious for being the most "mixed" province in terms of population. Human, geists and vampires alike haunt the region, seeking business, secrets, or solitude. It is money and commerce that unites them. Nephalia needs the Church of Avacyn to maintain a general order ; but they also buy or sell human beings to vampires as "food". Skaberen and ghoulcallers profit of the illegal "corpse market" of the region, and can find little secretive places where they carry on their experiences - as long as they stay discreet and hidden. The "metzalar", the merchants of Nephalia are truly the glue that maintains the region cohesive, keeping each party separated from each other, and yet linking them all in a web of exchanged goods and money flow.

There are many more info about Nephalia on Magic's official Guide to Innistrad, but a last trivia: the region suffers from the "Breath of the Sleepless", a phenomenon where the spirits and geists come and go with the tide. Given the tide is related to the moon, its ebbs and flows have something mystical that attracts or repels ghosts. While there are many geists in Nephalia, the most common types are "niblis" (frost phantoms) and "marei" (the ghosts of drowned sailors).

#magic the gathering #mtg #innistrad #gothic horror #dark fantasy #land cards #gavony #kessig #stensia #nephalia

[jones-friend]

What are your Top 5 All Time Favorite DND campaign moments? Doesn't matter if you're a player or DM.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

We made a session where the players were asked by a gold dragon to retrieve a globe from an anti dragon town, only to have the globe hatch into a baby gold dragon the players had to sneak out of the city

I dm’d a section where players uncovered an abandoned cultist lair to Vecna. They found a hand and eye made of human teeth, a room of self harm, then in a library a voice spoke to them. The ranger had a passive perception of 20 and was scared shitless when they couldn’t see the source. It was a nothic, a CR 5 dude when the party was six peeps at lvl 12.

Bodying Strahd when he came to fuck up our party with a nat 20 to tackle this man. 8ft minotaur fighter bulldozing the dark domain’s big bad.

I dm’d a solo session around the conceit that Pelor might be evil AND PULLED IT OFF. There’s a big conspiracy theory that Pelor may be a demon prince instead of a holy deity. So I made a gothic horror town like Innistrad centered around Pelor, only for the player to discover Pelor shackled the world’s version of the devil to the land who continues to cause suffering.

Saving this for all the npc’s I’ve made my buds have loved and adored: Taenth the brass dragon who hoards lifelong loves, Imro the lovable big grump of a red dragon, Jubilance the one in the throuple who reminds everyone to drink water, Yeen the boisterous gnoll merchant, Belorrel the secret dragon in a human town with a penchant for pastry making, Alixi the ex yuan ti guard who seeks outer peace, Fletch the plucky half-fiend aarakocra with a beast of a wild shape, Sir Rokas the leonin leader who’s mentor to many, its your love of my characters that makes me want to dm.

#Dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons

[nw-of-dark]

Vampire Clan: Ventrue

The Clan of Kings, Blue Bloods, Patricians, Warlords, Ambitiones, Power Mongers, Monarchs

The Ventrue, a distinguished lineage of vampires, have always taken great pride in their heritage. Members of this clan devote themselves to upholding a reputation for honor, refined conduct, and leadership. They embrace a profound sense of noblesse oblige, sincerely believing that they possess the knowledge of what is best for all. Not only do they consider themselves the oldest vampire clan, but they also perceive their role as guardians of tradition and the rightful rulers of Kindred society.

Throughout their history, the Ventrue have predominantly embraced individuals from the ranks of nobility and privilege. Whether they were kings, merchant princes, knights, or warlords, these individuals strived to live by the principles of chivalry and duty. The Ventrue clan remains staunch supporters of the Camarilla and the Masquerade, viewing both institutions as the most reliable safeguards against the encroaching mortal masses and as a means to protect their own power.

Disciplines: Dominate, Fortitude, Presence

Bane - Rarified Tastes: When a Ventrue drinks blood from any mortal outside their preference, a profound exertion of will is required or the blood taken surges back up as scarlet vomit. Preferences can range greatly on individuals. Ventrue can sense if a mortal possesses the blood they need.

Organization Within a City

Within urban areas, the Ventrue establish a structured institution known as the Board. This council serves as an effective body for addressing Ventrue matters within the city, overseeing the clan's business ventures and political interests within a given domain. The Board is officially led by the Praetor, who presents issues to the rest of the council and presides over their meetings. Below the Praetors are the Aediles, who provide assistance to the council and the Praetor, much like supervisors support managers in a business setting. Serving their purpose, the Questors act as aides to more experienced or elder Ventrue members. Finally, at the bottom of the hierarchy, there are the common Ventrue, lacking a formal title or substantial experience within the clan. They are referred to as Eiren.

Culture

Ventrue culture places a strong emphasis on dignitas, which can be understood as "dignity" or "face" in modern terms. Ventrue leaders are well aware of the negative aspects of power. While they may engage in unsavory activities such as organized crime or corporate dealings, they are expected to maintain their dignity, grace, and honor, especially in public. Attacks on their reputation are taken seriously, including spreading rumors, claiming credit for others' work, or insulting a Ventrue without justification. Such actions can diminish their dignitas and result in severe punishment or discipline.

One defining tradition that sets the Ventrue apart from other clans is their Ethic Succor. Unlike other clans that provide support within their own ranks, the Ventrue adhere to a strict policy of aiding one another without exceptions or excuses when in need. This practice is seen as a key factor in the clan's enduring strength. Respecting other Ventrue involves refraining from encroaching on their territory, avoiding competition in their established holdings, and, most importantly, safeguarding their dignitas. It also means providing assistance to a fellow Ventrue, regardless of the inconvenience it may pose.

Having been shaped by millennia of noble upbringing, class, and culture, the Ventrue highly value gentility. Ventrue etiquette can be quite intricate, especially in Europe where ancient standards persist. Although things may be less formal in the New World, the comparison is still significant. Even in the most casual Old World cities, the atmosphere often appears rigid and excessively polite by modern standards. For the Ventrue, politeness serves important functions beyond traditional customs. It helps mitigate personal conflicts and ensures respect for the social structure. Kindred, by their nature, are prone to emotional outbursts and grudges. Considering the Ventrue's regard for their dignitas, maintaining a sophisticated, polite, and somewhat distant demeanor becomes not just a matter of manners but a matter of survival. The Ventrue, devoted to tradition and meticulous detail, have developed an extensive code of conduct covering various aspects of life, from appropriate attire for Board meetings to gift-giving during death-night celebrations, although they have never officially collected these guidelines in written form.

#clan ventrue #ventrue #vtm #vtm ventrue #vampire #vampire: the masquerade #clans

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Elijah Nazarian (Henri Broussais) Species: Empath Occupation: Miner for Erebus (CIA Agent) Age: 32 Years Old Played By: Amélie Face Claim: Fabien Frankel

"What a jolly, beautiful day it is!"

Henri was born in the city of Reno, Nevada. His father, Julien, was a door-to-door merchant, who crisscrossed the district to find new customers. His mother, Nadia, meanwhile, wanted to be a singer. She worked as an executive secretary in a company that sold vintage cars. On Saturdays, they went to town. Julien gambled, always in small casinos, the kind that could be fooled by his tricks. Nadia did audition after audition in the city’s music halls, hoping to find her place and finally quit her bread and butter job.

Fame never came, neither did the riches. Henri returned home from school one day. He was in 7th grade. His mother had left a note on his pillow. That was the last he heard of her. It wasn’t just her job she felt unhappy with. She had never wanted to be a parent. Julien on the other hand, had once claimed he wanted that sort of life, but was about to realize that being a single parent was nothing like anything he had known. Henri resented his father more than he did his mother. The reason was simple enough : with mom out of the picture, it wasn’t long before they started having money problems, and it wasn’t much longer before he figured out that she had been the one keeping the boat afloat while his father drilled holes into the hull. 

The saddest part for Henri might have been acknowledging that his father had gone down such a steep rabbit hole he no longer realized how much of a failure he was. He always could tell that his mother was not a happy woman. He could always tell that being a good kid helped, that bringing home good grades helped. Perhaps it was why she had left. She knew he'd be okay, 

Still, he felt the urge to get away from his good for nothing father. Henri was getting better each day getting a read on people to the point where he could finally tell how his father was feeling. That was a sight bound to make anyone flee.

He enlisted with the U.S. army when he was 17. He liked having rules, a rigid frame to conform himself to, and he figured emotionally constipated people would be a nice break from the hell that had been dealing with his father and hormonal highschoolers. It turned out that there was no such thing as emotionally constipated folks, only people who didn’t even understand their own emotions. 

Henri decided to embrace his skills. His superiors, convinced that his interrogation skills were wasted here, convinced him into applying for the Pentagon’s training program. His experience abroad, the strong recommendation letter his captain wrote for him, along with the languages he already spoke along with his people skills helped him a great deal with recruiters. 

They assigned him to AARO (All-Domain Anomaly Resolution Office) to deal with matters that strayed from normal business. 

It has been a few years now, and he’s seen his lot of small towns, of species, or supernatural nonsense. Assess, contain, control or destroy the threat. This was all he had to do, anywhere he went. Using discretion and diplomacy, he was supposed to do his best to find a peaceful end to most issues. 

Now posing as Elijah Nazarian, a miner from Wyoming, Henri is ready to tackle yet another stunning example of supernatural nonsense: the mineral abnormality. Wicked’s Rest seems like a much tougher piece of work than anything else he has dealt with in a while, but it will take a bit more than a bunch of rocks to scare him away. The only trouble is, it’s hard to negotiate or mess with the feelings of a stone…

Character Facts:

Personality: Adventurous, confident, cocky, opportunistic, resourceful, solitary, manipulative

Elijah Nazarian is one of the aliases Henri uses while working undercover for the CIA. 

Elijah is from Wyoming, and has been working in mines ever since he finished high school. He’s passionate about minerals and used to go spelunking as a teenager (sometimes illegally).

Elijah grew up raised by a loving family, who was sometimes too busy to constantly keep an eye on him. 

Elijah was one of those kids who was obsessed with all things prehistorical. Every once in a while, he'll go to the natural science museum to get a look at fossils and minerals there.

Another obsession of his, though one Elijah will stay quiet about is Celine Dion, his mother's favorite. He pretended to detest it growing up, but now that he's out of the house, he associates her music with fond memories and he can sing along to most of her songs.

#retired

[celia-witch]

Haze Module time!!! The Witch's Hat - seems a like a nice little glimpse into the witch's somber side...

Through the ‘Forest’ she makes her way. Between the bars of naked steel she skips, from one end of the alleyway to the other, and on top of a faded billboard she climbs. Not far away, an empty tin can topples over. She takes a small step back, crouching for a while under the shadow. Only once she’s sure her silhouette is alone again under the moonlight—does her step pick up once again, deft like a wisp of fog. She finds her way straight through a window empty of its glass.

A puddle of water rests on the ground, which she avoids with great intent. Probably the recent shower of rain, that tonight’s so especially bright. Not a good omen, in any case. In times gone by, no one would dare trespass into the Forest thick of fog, for there was Witch’s domain. The greedy merchant had want of the Witch’s powers, but pitch-black smoke would bind the neck of such a poor soul. Only lost Children would have good fortune in the night… Most of the coven had come to suffer a different kind of curse already, but in the hazy night those inauspicious stones would happily be hidden from view.

A great fire of yore took the original Witch Forest. Thereafter, one nomadic city to the next, these empty rooms have been little more than the cracks amidst neon and skyscraper’s reflections… hardly fit for a safe domain.

She silently patrols her temporary lodgings, and finds the Hat out of a pile of miscellanies. A broad-brimmed one, cloth heavy-set in all its layers. Its inside is riddled with patchwork, every hand which sewed on those eclectic fabrics still there in her memories. Some were wizened, some young, all so soft without exception, so tender. She jumps into it, lets the sheets of fabric surround her body, as if she’s returned to their embrace.

Another hand rests upon her head. She remembers this one, the youngest among them, and the last to still follow her. This girl's hand once carried the scent of clean grass and fresh paper, like the others, but in these times it was always sullied with rust, with blood.

‘We’ve been found again.’ the young Witch picks her up and cradles her, and puts on another hat entirely. ‘Take a guess. How long can we still run, I wonder, before the next time we’re caught?’

The creature brushes against the Witch’s cheek, reflecting not an inch of light.

Together, she and the girl leap into the dark of night, straight through the Forest. Such is the freedom they were meant to share.

#Haze Arknights #Arknights

[alphascorpiixx]

A Hatchday Gift

Miphlink Week Day 6: Hatchday

Link tries to think of a gift for Mipha's hatchday.

Rating: G

Words: 1924

Tags: Grief/Mourning, Memory Issues, Flower Symbolism, Canonical Character Death

Read on AO3

@miphlinkweek

---

He didn’t have a proper gift for her. Link rifled through his collection of materials for the third time. He had flowers, fish, and precious stones. Enough memories of his past had returned to know that nothing in his possession was Mipha’s favorite flower, fish, or stone. No matter how hard he tried to remember or how many times he sorted through his belongings, he still failed at picking which could be her favorite.

At least he’d remembered her hatchday.

After several days and a few discreet questions to the other Zora, Link nearly sobbed with relief when the date finally came back to him. It was still a week away, giving him time to find the best gift to lay at her statue. He just had to find out what an adequate gift would be.

For the next three days, Link laid flowers at the base of Mipha’s statue. Chrysanthemums grew on Lanaryu’s mountain slopes and riversides. He collected a bundle of red and white chrysanthemums and gently placed them at Mipha’s feet. If the other Zora saw him do so, they gave him the space to grieve. Each day, Link brought new flowers to replace the old ones while silently wracking his brain for a more personal gift.

On the fourth day, Sidon met him by the statue holding a bundle of rosemary and purple orchids. They weren’t native to Zora’s Domain, so Sidon must’ve found a traveling merchant or trekked beyond the Domain to find them himself. Link nodded wordlessly, but his smile conveyed his gratitude. They placed the flowers together.

-

By the fifth day, Link still remembered nothing about her gift preferences, and Mipha’s hatchday was two days away. Guilt gnawed at him for delaying his journey to Goron City. Vah Ruta had been calmed, but the great lizard shape of Vah Rudania still circled Death Mountain.

He glanced at where Vah Ruta now stood sentinel over the Zodobon Highlands. He’d considered leaving the flowers at the foot of the Divine Beast rather than the statue, as the statue was a memorial and not her true grave. But a whisper in his heart assured him she would have favored this choice. Her spirit no longer haunted the Divine Beast, and her statue was in her home and surrounded by her family.

Link cleared the dying flowers from her statue. He hadn’t brought new ones to replenish them. His mind recalled a conversation they’d once had while basking in a field of wildflowers. Mipha had enjoyed the sight and scent of flowers, but bouquets weren’t her choice of gift. She preferred flowers wild or cultivated but not cut. She’d said they were better off growing in their natural life than dying in a day. The long-lived Zora rarely decorated with cut flowers. They used jewelry and metalwork or occasionally textiles. The flowers Link had brought were more to soothe his own soul while he thought of something more suitable.

The thought of jewelry sparked an idea. Mipha always wore jewelry in silvers and blues that complimented her lovely red scales. Link had sold his last sapphires a few weeks ago. But the hills of Upland Zorana had mineral deposits. He placed a single chrysanthemum before departing. Sidon watched in solidarity but did not place anything himself. They shared a silent agreement that the flowers were not meant to make the statue a shrine to Mipha. From the Zora’s stories of the Champion Festival, it was Mipha’s wish to be remembered rather than mourned. The gifts from Link and Sidon were gifts of remembrance from a lover and a brother, not offerings from worshippers.

Equipped with a hammer from the Hammerhead workshop, the armor Mipha had crafted, and her Lightscale Trident, Link swam up the waterfalls. He’d polished the armor to a shine that morning, and he glimmered like a Zora in the water. The armor also protected him from the enemies he encountered. The bokoblins fell to the Lightscale Trident, but the spitting lizalfos got a shot in before he struck it down. He avoided the Guardians’ searching eyes and hunted for mineral deposits. They mostly contained luminous stones, which would make a suitable gift in a pinch if he could not find a sapphire.

But the golden goddesses smiled on him, and the last ore deposit gave him two sapphires. He had no time to travel to Gerudo Town and have them crafted into jewelry, so the uncut gems would have to do.

He returned in the afternoon. Sidon remained in his place beside the statue. He gave a soft smile at Link’s approach.

“Will you ask Dento if these could be added to the statue’s base?” Link said, showing Sidon the sapphires.

Sidon nodded. “I will. It’s a good gift. She always loved sapphires and opals.”

Opals. The memories struck Link like the lizalfos. An opal in his hand as he presented her the gift for her hatchday. The delighted smile on her face and shine in her eyes. Her melodious voice explained how she loved the iridescence of opals.

"They contain all the colors of other gemstones within them."

Mipha’s favorite gift was opals. And Link had none for her and two days left until her hatchday.

“Link?” The concern in Sidon’s voice brought him back to the present. “Are you all right?”

“I’m—I’m fine,” Link said through a choked throat. He blinked the tears from his eyes. “I forgot about the opals,” he whispered. “I didn’t find any.”

Sidon flashed his grin. “I’ll help you! We’ll search Tal Tal Peak first thing tomorrow!”

Link managed a grateful smile.

-

He left the Domain at dawn to meet Sidon, hammer in hand. Sidon had arrived first and cleared out most of the monsters lurking on the peak. Link lended his aid, and the Lightscale Trident sang through the air. Although the sword was his main weapon, his body fell back into the familiar movements of spear combat. Sidon fought very differently from Mipha, wielding twin spears rather than one and with fewer flips than Mipha’s graceful dance. But he was no less skillful, and they dispatched the monsters with ease.

“It is always a pleasure to fight alongside you, Link!” Sidon said, slightly breathless from the fight.

Link smiled and shrugged at the praise. It was unnecessary for such a quick skirmish, hardly a battle at all, but he was used to Sidon’s enthusiastic admiration. It was a wonder this young adult Zora was the same as the small child he knew a hundred years ago, always at Mipha’s heels and giving Link the disapproving frowns of a younger brother. They were true friends now, united by shared grief, warrior spirit, and easy companionship.

They searched the entire morning. Sidon passed the time with a mostly one-sided conversation about the day-to-day life of the Domain. Link contributed a word or two occasionally, but Sidon never required anything more. He was happy to fill the silence, and Link was happy to listen.

They paused at noon for a quick bite to eat. Sidon fished in the water while Link lit a fire and cooked a few apples. The Sheikah Slate swung against his leg when he sat down. Link bit back a curse. They’d wasted half a day when he could have used the slate’s sensing technology Symin had upgraded it with. He flicked through the compendium for a picture of the ore deposits. He couldn’t use the sensor for opals specifically. His fingers hovered over the map. Wouldn’t it just be easier to see if any opals were available to buy? Gerudo Town was known for gemstone jewelry, there were likely some to purchase.

Link shook his head. He’d spent this much time looking for Mipha’s gift already. He’d find an opal with Sidon’s help or not at all.

The sensor indicated southward. Link paraglided down while Sidon leapt off the side of the cliff and dove into the lake below. They explored the small valley between Tal Tal Peak and the mountains above the reservoir. There was a lake—more of a pond—in the center of the valley. The Sheikah Slate’s sensor increased frequency as they drew near.

A stone talus rose out of the water. Link threw the hammer at the ore deposit on its body. The hammer chipped off amethyst and pieces of luminous stone. Sidon descended on the talus, spears a whirling storm.

The talus’ arm caught Link's shoulder. The armor absorbed the worst of the blow, but his shoulder burned with pain, and he could not raise his trident. Sidon directed the talus’ attention away from him while the cool light of Mipha’s grace washed over his body and soothed his arm. His lips moved in thanks to her spirit.

Sidon wore down the monster, and Link ran in for the final attack. The mineral broke under the Lightscale Trident, and the stone talus burst into smoke.

Link rolled his shoulder, a minor ache still lingering. The prizes of the fight were scattered in the water. Mostly luminous stones, but Link spotted a few gems among them.

“Link, look!” Sidon shouted. He grabbed a gem from the water and held it out for Link to see.

An opal. The opaque white surface shimmered with a rainbow of color in the sunlight. Link covered his hands over Sidon’s and said, “Thank you.”

-

The talus battle had not lasted long, and they arrived back at Zora’s Domain before evening. Link placed the opal and the two sapphires at Mipha’s statue. Sidon spoke with Dento, who said the job could be finished in time by Mipha’s hatchday anniversary tomorrow. Link offered his help in cutting the gems, but Dento waved him away. They both knew his skills were fighting with weapons, not smithing or crafting.

He spent the rest of the evening sitting at the top of Veiled Falls, listening to the water and resting the Lightscale Trident on his knees. He and Mipha would sit here at nightfall and watch the Domain glow with the otherworldly light of luminous stones. The stones’ light was said to be the souls of the dead. When he walked through Zora’s Domain, Mipha’s spirit resided among every stone and gilded rail, every drop of water and beam of sunlight. The Zora people held her spirit in their own souls, her memory living on within them.

-

Dento finished his work mid-afternoon on Mipha’s hatchday. The day was not an official holiday in Zora’s Domain. The Champion Festival was meant to honor Mipha and her trident. But there was a palpable air around the Domain that day. Even though Mipha wished her people to remember her with joy instead of grief, the heart often had a difficult time letting go of old hurts.

Link knew that well.

But sorrow was not the only emotion in the air. There were smiles and well-wishes. The Zora loved their fallen princess, and with Vah Ruta now freed from the Calamity’s control, they could at last begin to heal.

Link found Sidon in his customary place at Mipha's statue. He greeted Link with a wide, gleaming grin and stepped aside so Link could see the new additions to the statue. Dento had shaped the gems into the three-crescent symbol of the Zora. The top crescent was the opal and the other two sapphires. The sunlight caught the gems in a perfectly glimmer of blue and prismatic iridescence.

His fingers brushed over the symbol, and he gazed up at Mipha’s tranquil face.

“Happy hatchday, Mipha.”

---

A/N: From what I could find about flower symbolism:

Chrysanthemums - love

Rosemary - remembrance

Purple orchids - admiration, royalty, respect

#miphlinkweek #miphlinkweek2023 #the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #miphlink #my fics