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kudzuoath · 6 months

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Hello!

Based on a scenario with my friend where a camp dialogue ended in a wild magic cats and dogs situation, how do you think the companions would react to Scratch being a cat for a bit and/or the owlbear being a dog?…and in case you were wondering, after the magic wore off we had every companion nearby in a murderous fury so that was a hilariously unexpected reason to reload a save >.<.

That is so incredibly funny, omg. More and more my inner chaos gremlin wants to play a wild magic sorcerer!

As for how the camp would react...

Jaheira thinks it's funny, and comments on how much easier our Owlbear son will be to smuggle into the city. She probably also is coaching cat-scratch how to cat because honestly our poor dog is probably so confused. I picture him like a dog wearing socks on a kitchen floor.

Something something; "Nature's fury can wait for all of us to laugh ourselves sick about this for a little while."

(Owlbear son is both pleased and full of fury. Pleased because hey! He matches his dog brother! Only not right now. Full of fury because he's suddenly so much smaller and actually less deadly, boo. But on the flipside, he can now be carried like a baby because since he's a cub this means he's not just a dog he's a PUPPY)

Halsin is in a similar boat to Jaheira but also concerned about the mental health of the animals. I'm being so serious about this. The Owl-puppy finds him easiest to manipulate for the duration. In general he's the least amused by the situation, if not actually upset by it.

Wyll is immune to owl-puppy's manipulations, but is very amused by them. He babies the stressed out Scratch though, and has him calmed down and purring in his lap long before anyone else can manage it. If asked he'll just smile and say something like 'The Blade isn't just about hunting down the wicked, it's about providing comfort, too." And to Cat-Scratch something like 'No worries my fine friend, this is a temporary trial. You'll come out the other side all the stronger for it."

Astarion is groaning and pouting a little bit about his favorite murder-loaf (unless you're playing Durge) becoming a sweet little puppy. Right until those puppy teeth go for his ankles when the Owl-puppy realizes he CAN bite now without killing anyone. Then he senses the potential for chaos and encourages the Owl-puppy to go after Gale's things. On the flipside he's charmed to by cat-Scratch and dotes on him. Which is really just him being more open with how much he actually likes our dog.

Gale is busy fending off the Owl-puppy from his books, his boots, the ends of his robes, etc. But he's also entertaining the newly presented concept of polymorphing animals into other animals and probably have a one sided conversation with both animals about how the spell works, in particular 'true polymorph' and if the animal in question would choose their new form or their old one. He will also later question the wild magic sorcerer responsible for this why their magic so often turns everything small and fluffy.

Karlach laughs, but is fighting every ounce of cute aggression in her soul at the mere sight of the owl-puppy. Unlike an owlbear cub, the puppy is soooo much more fragile and soooo much tinier. Actually clutching at her chest. Cat-scratch is similarly tinier, and just as adorable as normal. Attempts to get cat-scratch to ride on her shoulder like a parrot.

Lae'zel sighs. Like Astarion she finds the Owl-puppy a disappointing change. Unlike him she does not have the chaos instinct. She laments his far less effective teeth and claws and size and solemnly promises to find him a set of metal claws and beak should his new state of being become permanent.

Shadowheart is in the same boat as Karlach (though she thinks both animals as just as cute normally) the only difference is her attempted act of indifference. Maybe a touch of concern -- mostly due to the fact that the Owlbear is going to need to learn not to bite all over again. Like Wyll, cat-scratch ends up purring in her lap. She rather likes both of them being smaller -- they're more portable. And easier to smuggle into the city.

#bg3 #spitballing for several of these tbh #i know some of the companions better than others i think #no minthara bc she's always been dead for me #but i imagine she and laezel are in the same boat #tho i think she'd like cats better than dogs #baldur’s gate 3 #thank u for sharing and asking <3 #my writing #i guess?#answered

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whatisurgatepolicy · 5 months

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notes on rhea from something in the static

Writing Something in the Static meant re-evaluating Rhea's character sheet and backstory, and damn.

First of all, here's the image on her character sheet because i was still in my rogue one era

you're welcome, shadowheart????? your gf is the gremlin from rogue one

thee besties ever trying to work out why there's a fully drained boar near camp even though astarion SWEARS he saw nothing

there's also the features from her lil character sheet

I don't think I started describing her hair as auburn until another player described her as red haired and then I just accepted that into my mind.

I also have her (extremely long) backstory.

Rhea's name was, originally Princess Seren Rhea Erebus Cristabel Marie Lowell of the House Lowell, a small kingdom in the Dragonspine Mountains. The Ride lays at their feet and they sit between an entrance to the Underdark and the Zhentarim Citadel of the Raven. The daughter of Wizard King David Lowell's fourth (Eladrin) wife, she's the youngest child and only daughter of House Lowell. Four of her older brothers are much older humans; her twin is another half-elf, but he sucks. >:(

She grew up largely insulated from politics by her family. As the youngest child of House Lowell, there was no need for her to know anything. She was there solely to be married off and secure a trade route or alliance; there was nothing left for her to inherit. She spent her childhood mostly reading, occasionally escaping into the gardens of the castle to play with the children of servants. Sometimes she'd spend time with her mother, a strange and distant winter eladrin who hardly spoke to her at all and preferred her twin brother. The bulk of her time with mother was spent with her mother's ladies in waiting, Spring Eladrin who gradually turned to Winter Eladrin as their sadness at being trapped on the material plane grew.

Her father, King David Lowell, is a wizard of unique ability and renown. His obsession with power leads him to view the people around him as lesser beings. He loves his children distantly, the way one might love their neighbour's dog. He would casually cast spells on them; Detect Thoughts when they passed him in hallways, Polymorph if they annoyed him, Power Word: Stun once when his eldest son attempted to fight back. Any slights against him by one would turn into psychological torment for the rest. Once, when he caught them fighting, he turned Seren (with her larger than average ears and front teeth) into a rabbit, and her skittish brother into a black cat. Later, after dispelling the polymorph on just her brother, he led him to believe that they'd lost track of her. For dinner that night, he served rabbit that had been caught that day, forcing his sons to eat a creature they thought might be their sister, whipping the ones that cried.

Once, David decided her (previously favourite) middle brother Simon hadn't disciplined his hunting dogs correctly and polymorphed her into a rabbit again, forcing Simon to set his dogs on her, to track how well they followed orders to stop. The dogs did not recognise Simon's commands through his terrified sobs, and ripped her rabbit form to shreds. The polymorph broke and David killed the dogs before they could harm her humanoid form leaving her with no physical damage, but Seren's trust in both dogs and her older brothers was broken irreparably.

The older she got, the more her father and older brothers leaned on her to be more dignified, to take lessons of etiquette, learn music, recite poetry, entertain diplomats and learn her place in the world. Her father encouraged her musical ability, her education, tempering his cruelty with gifts and compliments. He liked her freckles because they reminded him of her mother's brother, an eladrin Seren had never met. He thought one day she'd make an amazing gift to secure a trade route - eladrin lovers are exotic, he'd be able to put up her bride price accordingly. He even had her attend college with her brothers when she showed a decent barding talent. She has a degree in history now, like you even CARE, dad. (He's very proud of her, despite being an evil monster). Education is a sore point to her; she's talented when it comes to picking up on systems and patterns, but she's very insecure about her dyslexia and can't see past her fear.

While at university, she was exposed to the outside world for the first time. Seren wasn't a complete innocent; before this she'd liked to spend time with (read: do drugs with) one of the stable boys, Xander, and she had a huge, age appropriate crush on a noblewoman who would spend time with him, leading to an awkward but strangely comfortable romantic triangle (she liked the noblewoman, the noblewoman liked Xander, Xander liked doing drugs with his friends). But this was her first time viewing her father's kingdom in a new light.

Things were bad. Her father wasn't just "taxing the peasants a bit", he was bleeding them dry. Furthermore, the mithral that their economy depended on was deep in the darkest part of the mines and they did not have the appropriate technology or expertise to reach it; the mining guild dwarves had packed up long before, leaving the remaining peasants, not protected by a union, to struggle as tunnels collapsed. The people were starving, their food taken as tithes for the royal family. When tensions rose, soldiers cut them down. Seren watched this with mounting horror, returning to the castle changed. She approached her father's throne and demanded he take action and end the outrageous taxing, help their people rebuild. He refused.

Seren, being both brave and a naive twenty one year old, went to the town to offer her services to the rebellion. The rebellion was run by a hero, Amara, an ex-mercenary eldritch knight in her late thirties, who gladly accepted the young princess...as a hostage. Seren was fine with that. Over the months they spent together, locked in the inn that the rebels used as a hideout she considered herself learning and growing from the people her family ruled. She was delighted when Amara told her to join her in bed, viewing it as a larger piece of a romantic puzzle. If they were doing things that she didn't really enjoy...well, she was learning a lot, wasn't she? It was a trade-off.

All the things her father complimented and made her feel weird about, Amara hated. She hated Seren's elven green eyes, the way they reflected light in the dark. She hated Seren's freckles because they made her look childish. She told Seren frequently that she looked like her father - meaning, ugly, evil, cruel. This did not stop her from sleeping with Seren.

The other rebels could be cruel. Even as Seren called them friends or comrades, they would frequently abuse her for her father's crimes. Amara rarely stepped in, telling her she needed to earn their respect by not being like her father. Her father had sent their family members to die in mines, taxed them til they starved, ripped down their temples, wanting to be their only god. Her father was evil, and had caused so much pain. She was evil too, Amara reminded her, frequently. She had benefited from the deaths of their friends and families.

There was very little Seren could do to prove otherwise. When she tried to play for them - songs that the diplomats and courtiers had found charming or soothing - she was dismissed as an awful musician, was told her father had likely paid others to tell her she was good. When they found out from an old classmate about her dyslexia, she would be asked to write notes in meetings and lambasted for spelling mistakes. Any contribution she made during strategy meetings would be dismissed as foolish, but used later when suggested by others.

("You're just...unpleasant to hear from," Amara would assure her as the rebels captured key targets with minimal bloodshed using Seren's ideas. "Nobody wants to take the advice of someone as awful as you.")

In the meantime, King Lowell weighed up his daughter's safety, and bet against the rebels killing her; when he located their hideout he came down on them with the full might of the military. It would be fine, he told them. Just give me back my daughter and I'll let all of you go free. When they finally gave in and handed back Seren, he took them prisoner and had them executed in front of her. Amara first. They died screaming, cursing the name Seren Lowell.

Well, you don't kill your daughter's first love without creating a bit of a split in your relationship. As her father and brothers celebrated the destruction of the rebellion, Seren vowed to bring the House of Lowell crashing down. As punishment for taking part in the rebellion, Seren was locked in her rooms, with a view of the corpses of the rebels she'd once called friends. But that gave her ample time to marinate in rage and grief as she planned, gazing out at their decaying bodies.

On her third night of being locked in, her mother, Serena, visited her for the first time. Here, she revealed that she was a hostage too. She'd been a Spring Eladrin, who'd met David Lowell when he'd been a mere wizard in an adventuring party who'd stepped into the Feywild. She had taken a liking to him, and conceived Seren and her brother. David had returned to the Material Plane. He was gone for a blink in the life of a Spring Eladrin, enough time for her to realise she was pregnant. This same gap was much longer in the Material Plane; by the time he returned to the Feywild, David was now King Lowell. He'd taken her back with him and when she'd tried to return to the Feywild, she found that he'd managed to trap her on the Material Plane. Her freedom had been sealed away by a Drow artifact he kept close. By stealing it and returning it to be unmade in the Underdark, Seren could rid the curse from her mother and allow her to finally escape the castle. Not only that, but then Serena could bring her own political might to bear and bring the wrath of the Eladrin down on House Lowell. Fuck yeah!

Using everything she'd learned from the rebellion, Seren slipped through the castle and stole the amulet (along with a few other easily pawnable things) before escaping. She made one mistake: she told her twin brother her plan. He'd raised the alarm before she'd gotten far, leaving her on the run. On the run from her father's men Seren changed her name. First to Rhea Lowell, and then when it became too apparent that anyone who'd heard of their tiny kingdom would probably connect 'Princess Seren Rhea of House Lowell' to 'Rhea Lowell', she changed her surname to 'Dancer', because she was at an inn, watching someone dance as she was picking out names. Nice and easy. Suited her better. Except now people keep calling her Tiny Dancer?

On the road, she found out more. Her father, a powerful wizard, had dreams of becoming a god. He'd read once about an eladrin sorcerer who'd done something like that, only to fail halfway through and lose her body and memories. He wanted the full deal. No half-measures.

Rhea made it to Waterdeep, where she dithered around, trying to work out if she should tell Laeral Silverhand and alert the Lord's Alliance to her father's crimes. Unfortunately, the Zhentarim caught up with her and, following her father's instructions of 'okay fine you want to go to the Underdark? YOU'RE GOING TO THE UNDERDARK!' sold her into Drow slavery.

By now, King Lowell regretted his actions and had sent her brother to find her and bring her home. But Rhea was already in the slave pits.

Underdark big moments:

* Killing Priestess Mizzrym * Befriending Stool * Almost sacrificed to the demogorgon * Praying to Sehanine Moonbow about Amara and never receiving a response * Finding a magic sword * Swearing herself to the Raven Queen * Morgan finding her * Starting a rebellion in Gracklstugh * Hatching Gerri the red dragon from an egg * Neverlight Grove, swearing vengeance on Zuggtmoy * Reaching Blingdenstone, hot tubs, fighting endless oozes On the surface, big moments: * Spending time in Waterdeep * Helping Tol overthrow his evil king * Returning to Lowell a paladin * Freeing her mother, who leaves for the feywild, withdrawing her offer of support * Stopping David in the middle of a ritual to become a god * David uses a timestop and a melee attack (sword :() to kill Rhea * David regrets the death of his favourite child and institutes a national day of mourning, burying her with flowers * Morgan brings her back to life with the help of the Raven Queen, offering to become her Chosen in Shadowfell in exchange.

#rhea dancer #something in the static

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slightartist · 11 months

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My precious child, Berenice Carter- or Bernie for short.

Bernie is a Polymorph Changeling Troll raised in Trollmarket by Vendel and had her Changeling magic enhanced by the Heartsone. Vendel did this as he believed she was the chosen one who would fulfil the prophecy in becoming a champion who has a foot in all worlds (made up lore on my end cause I wanted to give Bernie more purpose to the story).

Her Changeling powers have evolved and gives her the ability to shift into any species so long as she has some relation to them. The stronger the relationship is, the more flexible her shifting becomes so she can alter her shifted appearance to her liking (this is also made up lore. Just clarifying in case anyone thinks it's canon).

For example, Bernie can't shift into a cat unless she has both met and bonded with the cat. If they bond to the extent that both trust each other and get along, Bernie is able to not only take the form of the cat but also change the fur and eye colors to her liking. If the bond is very surface level, Bernie will look identical to the cat and can't change her features.

Did that make sense? Probably not :/

Bernie is roughly around 400 years old (exact age is unknown as she doesn't have any memory of her childhood before being taken to the darklands) and is currently reaching the end of her Troll adolescence (more made up lore cause I couldn't find anything on how trolls age). Her human form appears to also be reaching the end of her human adolescence and she attends Arcadia Oaks High.

She's best friends with Jim and Toby and up until Bular's death, she's kept her Changeling secret from them and Trollmarket (only Vendel and Kanjigar knew of her powers). Throughout the series she befriends most of the friendly cast, notably she becomes best friends with Krel and Douxie as they all bond over their love of music.

She absolutely loves music and her ultimate dream job would be either to become a famous musical artist or open her own music shop. She busks at her local park every Fridays or whenever she feels like it, as well as earning a bit more side money through offering her musical skills to teach others how to play certain instruments. All the money she makes is partially added to her growing savings account (money she plans on using to achieve her future career goals) and spent on instrument parts as she likes to refurbish old instruments.

I'll stop ranting about her for now cause this is already long enough. Might post more about her later, depends if anyone's interested.

Troll design was linearted and colored by me. The concept sketch was done for me by my friend, @/ RitsyRitsu on Instagram.

#character design #digital illustration #fanart #my art #original art #clip studio paint #3below #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #oc #fan character #toa oc #supernatural #character lore #just for fun

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lovebiteshard · 6 months

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Hi please talk about your inserts here's an excuse in the form of an ask

oh my god thank you i love talking im getting on my ipad for this

i think i’m just gonna talk about renato and arcangelo lalala

okay so renato is my inside job sona and i love him dearly… i feel bad cause i dont talk about him as much right now but he’s one of my more developed sonas. his full name is renato ettore scheimpough (hes a nepo baby slash half joke) and hes around 29 ^_^ he’s the head of Cognito’s psych department, and he’s also a psychic! i have a little blurb about him that i havent posted on this blog yet so i’m gonna drop that below this.

❝ The reclusive head of Cognito's psychology department. It's rare to see him outside his domain, his few-and-far-between appearances making him a bit of an office enigma- as if there aren't enough already. Tasked with the job of [and fascinated with] prying into the minds of the public. ❞

so really his whole thing is that hes kinda off-putting and autistic but he does his job well and nobody messes with him. sometimes when he gets scared he blows up lamps without meaning to. very sad.

eventually im gonna have to change his name to like. renato ettore scheimpough-hand. maybe. his name gets longer every day JOKE but i want brettnato to be husbands. lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship FUN FACT they meet in “canon” after brett fucks up still valley. renato yells at him for like 15 minutes over it and brett doesnt register a single word because he’s like wow… hes pretty.

okay moving on arcangelo i hope at least one person who reads this knows him by now because all i post is astangelo its like a problem. BUT hes my b.g.3 s/i and his full name is arcangelo romano and hes a half-elf vampire bard. he’s like 29-30 ish physically so hes a little younger than astarion but mentally he’s around the same age. what i have lorewise for him rn is kinda still messy but the gist is that he was turned essentially to be live entertainment and he becomes a full vampire by attacking his mistress in a fit of fear. still loose im not super sure about the logistics of vampires in bal.durs gate but i’ll figure it out ^_^

anywaysies arcangelo plays the lyre (living vicariously through him) the clarinet, piano, and he sings (i can do these things. #canon) and he really likes . a sort of gothic? fashion? like think sad victorian boy my words escape me <- okay mr chatterbox. regardless he’s very frilly and fragile looking but he’s strong. like how ants are little but strong. he’s also very gloomy thats like his vampirisms he’s very gloomy and reserved most of the time but once he warms up to you he’s happier ^_^ i like to put him in pretty dresses and go wowww so nice wow astarion will like that one

ohhh also arcangelo can polymorph (because hes a bard) so he likes to be a kitty cat or a dog sometimes and hang out like that instead. peace and calm. OH AND HE CAN TURN INTO A BAT because hes a vampire . fun facts all around

astangelo is super important to me because i ran into astarion during a pretty rough time for me so its like. he’s near and dear. dearly departed and whatnot. i just like having them be the sweet and niceys :)

#love bites (hard)#a helping (brett) hand #help sorry for the chatter

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

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Okay, we just did a thing in my D&D group tonight that I HIGHLY recommend as a super-fun combat experience, especially if you’ve got a party who goes out of their way to avoid combat and is way more on the defensive side:

Polymorph Pokemon battling

Generally this would need to be set up under the direction of a set of high-level casters--it turned out to be a great way for my level 4 players to interact with a magic castle run by liches and dragons and archfey who just want to hang out and entertain themselves by playing politics and gambling a lot--but really all you need is the ability to cast ‘polymorph’ on at least two people at once. Play proceeds as follows:

--One person on each side (we played party vs NPCs, but it could just as easily have been PVP) is the “trainer”. The rest of the party or people participating get polymorphed into beasts of similar level.

--Matches can be set up 1-on-1 or as doubles (we played doubles, with a trainer and four pokemon-esque fighters rotating in and out on each side, and it was great, because everyone was messing around with flanking bonuses and trying to tag-team or get tag-teamed).

--At the top of every round, the trainers shout orders. They can also swap out one fighter per round or toss a healing potion (the fight organizers gave each side a greater healing potion to use at will). We didn’t allow buffs, but had the trainer been allowed buffs, they could’ve used that as their top-of-round action.

--Fighters roll initiative and brawl. Anyone who drops to 0 hit points reverts to their base form and is knocked out of the battle.

--I allowed our trainers to switch fighters out and then back in again as many times as they wanted, and switching didn’t take up a turn (so the new fighter got a turn on the round they were swapped in).

To prep, I pulled stats for eight beasts of CR 2-4, and had them represented by colored tiles with the silhouettes of animals on them. The tiles were accurate but a little misleading (the cat turned out to be a dire leopard, the “fat seal” was a giant walrus, etc), and color-coded by CR to help me keep things balanced. I gave the players first pick, and then my NPC would select the tile of matching CR, so each team ended up with two CR 2 beasts, one CR 3, and a CR 4. Players were each sent the stats of their creature when they got polymorphed, which meant I got to watch everybody be delighted one by one when they discovered that, oh man, picking the bird-looking thing with the bat wings and the pointy beak meant that they got to be a PTERODACTYL.

I also designed a playing pitch of 40′ by 100′, which turned out to be a pretty good size for the speed of our various creatures. About a third of the pitch was water, and one corner was full of jagged rocks which provided rough terrain and hiding spaces.

All in all, it was super easy to set up, and everybody playing had a blast. My players in particular are really gunshy about getting into combat--they enjoy it, but their party is made up of a bunch of college students who are super wary about killing things and try to talk their way out of everything. This turned out to be a great way to provide a really fun combat experience while also eliminating the fear of dying or accidentally killing anyone. We kept the stakes high by requiring them to place a bet “of significant value” before the fight, which turned pretty significant because they were wagering with faeries who liked to bet things like talent, memories, and skill proficiencies.

Bonus: this can be done with any level party by picking different beasts, and can even be run for a high-level party with super low-level beasts to play around with lower-stakes combat to just have some fun. I’d suggest sticking to a pretty close range in levels (no sending a CR 1/4 panther up against a CR 8 T-Rex), but there’s no reason a giant toad and a giant spider battling it out can’t be both thrilling and hilarious even to a level 15 party too.

#d&d #C the DM #dungeons and dragons #I super recommend this for a low-key fun battle #or a good way to do combat if your players are avoiding it too much!#if anyone DOES play this way do let me know how it turns out!

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s42isrotting · 2 years

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Get To Know Me a Little

I’m working on making a very detailed page/carrd about myself, but for now, here’s a little about me, plus my DNI and my BYF. Unless stated otherwise, everything here is genuine (/g) and serious (/srs).

Also, I didn’t know where to put this in, but I’m 18 years old, white and neurodivergent (though not yet diagnosed) as of writing this.

Name

I go by Rot, and I also like ‘that thing’, and simply being referred to with no name, like just my pronouns, a vague gesture or just a blank space.

Pronouns

My main/favorite pronouns are he/him, he/hine, it/its, pup/pups and rot/rots, though I use others. The full sets will be in my carrd when I publish it.

Orientation

I use a lot of labels, like, over 40, just for my orientation, so it would be a long list to put here, but I do have main/favorite ones.

My main orientations or my most well known ones are gay, mlm, nblm, asexual, aro-spec, aegosexual and polyamorous. Those are the ones I usually tell people as most people know what those all are (but if you don’t, don’t worry, and feel free to ask!)

Some other lesser known labels, or microlabels, I use are achillesyian, myrsexual, fictoqueer, nindivian, xeminian, nosexsexual, apl-spec and aflux.

And that’s still not the full list!

Gender

Like my orientation, I use a heaping pile of gender labels. I use mostly xenogenders, but I do have a few anthrogenders (non-xenic/non-xenogenders). Gender for me, personally, is things that are related, connected, have influence over, represent or gave me euphoria in my identity as male, sexless, altersex, non-binary and “a boy”.

My most well known genders or labels are transmasc, boy, non-binary, enboy, genderfluid and polygender.

Some of my favorite xenogenders are kenochoric, kiddiekitty, calicracklic, batusio, cannibagorix, hiemisano, archerlian and pyrogender.

I use well over 300 labels for my gender, which I will be attempting to put into a neat, organized list.

Nonhumanity and Alterhumanity

I also use many alterhuman labels.

I’m a polymorph, calico cat therian, some form of angel, divine or angelic type thing (I’ve been confused by it for over two years haha), Dt. Castellanos fictionkin and Stefano Valentini fictionkin, both of which are from The Evil Within and The Lighthouse fictionkin.

Other labels I use are furry, inexian, boything, aldernic, alderlux, aldervexic, and alderzeevi ( he four alder- labels are not specifically an alterhuman labels, but I feel it describes my alterhumanity).

I’m also an age and pet dreamer (which aren’t alterhuman but they don’t fit anywhere else) meaning I sometimes act like or pretend to be a child and/or animal, without fully regressing into a child-like or animal-like headspace. I’m not 100% sure, but I’m pretty sure that I’m not able to regress, either age or pet. It could be that I’m not not able to, or I don’t have what I need to (a safe/comfty space, a caregiver, comfort/ageregre/petregre items, etc). This is NOT k!nk or age/pet play of any kind.

And like my orientation and gender, that’s not all my labels!

I think its’ pretty apparent that I absolutely love labels.

Interests and Fandoms

I’m an artist and writer, both original work and fanwork, and I love, love, love collecting things. I like to collect rocks, crystals, shells, dried flowers, random nature stuff (like acorns, moss, etc), books, random objects (tiny toys, coins, slime) and dead things (bones, dead bugs, starfish, etc. I only find them in nature, and never kill or trap! I do not condone or support killing animals, bugs and other living things for the sole reason of collecting or taxidermy.)

Some fandoms I’m in is Marvel, both comics, MCU and other movies, DC Comics, both comics, animated series and movies, and Legends of Tomorrow, Overwatch, Team Fortress 2, The Evil Within, Skulduggery Pleasant, Warrior Cats and the furry fandom.

My all time favorite characters in all of media are Junkrat and Roadhog (Overwatch), Mick Rory (Legends of Tomorrow), Barry Allen (The Flash, DC Comics), Skulduggery Pleasant and Bill-Ray Sanguine (Skulduggery Pleasant series), Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal NBC) and Aramis and Porthos (The Musketeers BBC).

Some aesthetics I like are cottagecore, weridcore, kingcore, knightcore, fairycore, kidcore and vaporwave, though this isn’t the full list!

Please Interact If...

I you are a MOGAI, xenogender, microlabel, otherkin or alterhuman account/blog, I’d love if you would interact! That’s sort of the content I am looking forward to posting (with a few fanfic related posts thrown in there).

I’m also looking for The Evil Within 1, 2 and DLC fictionkin, fictionflickers and -hearted people! I’d love to meet any source mates, and doubles are welcome! Theodore Wallace is a little iffy but I’d still love to meet you, and maybe change my mind if I can learn about your experiences! I’m especially looking for Joseph Oda, as we were detective partners and friends in my past life.

My DNI (do not interact) and BYF (before you follow)

Do not interact if you are or support: Sexual age play, sexual age regression, sexual pet play, sexual pet regression, transage, transrace, MAPS/Pears/No-MAPS/pedos, conservatives, queerphobes of any kind, anti-self diagnosing, anti-otherkin/alterhuman, anti-furry, “cringe” blogs (unless you consider yourself cringe as reclamation), racists and xenophobes of any kind, any form of sexism, religiocentrism of any religion, anti-fat, artists/writers that create nsfw fanworks of real people, pro-shippers, zoophiles/zoosexuals, pro-incest (blood related or otherwise), pro non-con/r@pe (including real life, threats, fanworks, art and media).

Before you follow, know that I support (or am, in some cases): M-spec gays and lesbians, xenogenders, MOGAI genders, MOGAI sexualities, neopronouns, LGBTQ+ microlabels, age regression and all its (non-sexual) forms, pet regression and all its (non-sexual) forms, furries (fandom, k!nk and lifestyle), alterhumans and nonhumans and all its forms and types, systems and plurality and all of its forms, self-diagnosing, all religions as long as individual I’m interacting with is not a bigot, safe and consensual k!nk, godspousing, self-shippers, ethical non-monogamy, semi and non-dysphoric trans people.

NSFW and 18+ Accounts, who can interact?

NSFW and 18+ accounts that can interact: Nsfw art, original writing, fanfiction, imagines, POVs, scenarios, furry art and edits (both gore/violent nsfw and sexual nsfw), sexual and non-sexual k!nk blogs, true crime/crime photo accounts, horror related accounts and animal gore in the context of ethical vulture culture or art.

NSFW and 18+ accounts I will block if you interact: Irl/real photos and videos of sexual content/acts, sexual content of any kind relating to real people (YouTubers, celebrities, musicians, etc.), any kind of content that sexualizes age regression and pet regression and DDLG and it’s variations (this not not include caregiver and caregiver/handler & little/pet accounts, those can interact as long as it’s not k!nk).

Feel free to ask questions, but please use tone tags!

Thanks so much for reading! /g

Photo versions of my DNI and BYF

#get to know me #introduction #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #nonhuman #mogai #neopronoun #xenogender #lgbtq #first post #the evil within #dni #byf

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peach-the-owl · 3 years

Note

How about a scenario with each of the M9 where the child calls them Mom or Dad.

Yes… just yes 😊

You call them Mom/Dad

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

Jester

You and Jester were shopping and causing some mischief around Zadash, nothing crazy of course. Something caught the corner of your eye, a doll dressed up like a warrior was sitting proud in the window display of a toy shop making your eyes sparkle with excitment. You run over to Jester and tug at her dress while bouncing in you feet.

"Mommy! Mommy look! Can I get that doll please?" You say without a second thought, pointing towards the shop. Jester looks at you astonished for a moment, this was the first time you’d called her mom. You give her a confused look when she doesn’t respond right away and watch her press her hands together as if she were about to pray and a large smile stretch across her face.

"You think of me as your momma?" Despite the smile Jester sounded like she was about to cry. You tilt your head to the side confused, had you said something wrong?

"I’m sorry, should I not-"

"No no, don’t be sorry." Jester quickly cuts you off. "I’ll happily be you momma!" She picks you up and places a few kisses on your cheek and forehead before placing you back down and taking your hands in hers. "Now let’s go get you that doll." With that you both practically skip over to the toy store. You were really glad you got to meet Jester, she was everything you wanted in a mom, especially compared to your old caretaker, whatever happened to them? You didn’t know and you didn’t care anymore because now you had someone who actually loved and cared about you.

Nott

You’d accidentally called mom once before but Nott had easily accepted the roll, having already seen you as her own child. Afterwards it came a little easier to refer to her as such but only when you’re in towns or cities on a small break between adventures. It was kinda funny in a way how it was easy to call her mom in such domestic places but once you were on the road again you'd go back to calling her by name. Nott didn’t mind of course, adventures were intense with little time to think about names and/or titles so it wasn’t much of a surprise that you would do this.

Caleb

Caleb has always tried to distance himself from others, scared to let people into the shell that is his life and yet you had still managed to find a way in. At first he’d brush it all off finding an excuse for why you were just tagging along with him, but over the years he began to warm up to you, seeing as you were his only loyal company besides Frumpkin before you’d met the rest of the Nein.

"Hey, Caleb?" Your little voice pulls him away from his daydreaming. "I want to show you something, I’ve been practicing really hard." He shifts a bit so his full attention is on you. You take a deep breath and pull a cocoon from your bag, Caleb’s taught you a lot now it was time to put it to the test. There’s a slight glow and flash Caleb watches as you body shifts and turns into the form of a cat, your cat form pads over to him and hops up for a closer look. With a quick gesture of his hands the spell wears off and you quickly change back to yourself, you stare up at him with a large smile as he gives you a proud look.

"If that was your first time successfully casting Polymorph you did wonderfully, I’m proud of you." He kneels down and places a hand on your shoulder, a small smile placed on his features.

"Thanks!" You beam at him, giggling a little. "But that’s because I’ve got you as my teacher papa." The word sorta slipped out without your knowledge, effectively shocking him. You happily skip off to tell everyone what you just accomplished, leaving Caleb still kneeling down in deep thought.

You’d called him papa, you saw him as a father figure, someone to look up to and depend on. You looked at him the opposite of how he saw himself, and had done so without a second thought or regret. "I don’t deserve this." He mutters to himself as he watches you skip over to Jester and Nott to tell them of your accomplishments.

Caduceus

You let out a huff, confused and conflicted on what your thoughts were doing, was this supposed to be a good thing or a bad one. Caduceus walks into the little inn room seeing you huff around a little.

"You alright? You’ve been huffing around a lot." He stares at you concerned. You look up at him and he could now see the slight gloss that glazed over your eyes, he kneels down and you instinctively walk into his waiting arms. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asks calmly, you nod after a moment.

"It’s been so long since the last time I saw my family and…" You hold back a small sob, "and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Is that bad? I’m I a bad kid for forgetting my own family?" A few tears spill over but Caduceus catches them.

"Tell me, do you still know their names?" You nod your head. "Can you still remember the lessons they taught you, or maybe the games they played with you?" Again you nod. "Then you haven’t forgotten them, so long as you still have memories with them you haven’t forgotten them. You’re not a bad kid, far from it."

"Thank you papa." You pause, having caught your own words and look up at Caduceus. He looks surprised at first, but that quickly turns to a gentle smile and he places a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t think much on it before but you had to admit every time you tried to picture your father in your head all you could see was Caduceus, and honestly that wasn’t so bad.

Fjord

Being back in Port Damali always left a nice yet uncomfortable feeling to you, it was where you were raised with the beautiful open sea but the conditions you were raised in weren’t exactly ideal. Which is why you were always greatful when Fjord had agreed to take you with him all that time ago. You find yourself walking along the beach, old habits die hard I guess, not that you minded. You hear someone come walking up from behind and look over at Fjord as he approches.

"Brings back memories doesn’t it." He says, taking a seat on the sand, you join him.

"Yeah, it felt like so long ago… time's weird when adventuring." This earns you a chuckle.

"It sure can be. You know we could recreate that scenario, I could pretend to be unconscious and you aggressively poke me with a stick." He jokes, now getting a chuckle out of you.

"That’s stupid," you playfully push his shoulder. "Don’t be ridiculous dad." You quickly place a hand over your mouth once you’d caught what you just said. Slowly you turn to look at Fjord who’s staring right back, a look of astonishment on his face.

"Did you just call me dad?" You didn’t notice the smile that started to form on his face.

"I’m sorry, I just sorta slipped out, I didn’t mean t-"

"You see me as your father?" He cuts you off a bit, his voice filled with joy. You turn to face him again, seeing him giving you such a caring and joyful smile.

"Well, yeah… I-I guess. You were the first person who treated me so nicely and you took me along with you, it just… felt right to say." You admit a little sheepishly.

"Then by all means, don’t let me stop you." Fjord then pulls you closer to him and stands up with you in his arms, as he places a gentle kiss to you temple. You were glad you had decided to take that beach walk all that time ago, meeting Fjord was by far the best thing to ever happen to you. As for Fjord he was happy to give you something he never had as a child, a father to look up to and depend on.

Beau

Another day another training session, kicks and punches being thrown every which way, thankfully you had the stamina to keep up with Beau. It could be a little tiring but it was necessary to keep your reflexes sharp, then you get punched in the jaw, not too hard that it'd break but enough to leave a bruise later.

"Don’t go drifting off into Lala land. Keep your eyes on the enemy or else that’s going to happen again." You give her a thumbs up and make sure you dodge the next attack she throws at you. When your training is finally over you take a seat and rub at your jaw a bit, feeling where the bruise was forming. "Here, this’ll help." Beau sits down next to you and hands you a healing potion and a cup of water.

"Thanks mom." You say nonchalantly.

"What did you just call me?" Beau asks in surprise. It takes you a second to actually register what you just said, you go stiff when realization sets in.

"Ummm, n-nothing I just said thanks." You look away to try and hide your embarrassment.

"I’m falling for that (y/n). Do you seriously see me as a mother or something?" Beau asks, genuinely curious to your responce. You let out a sigh.

"Yeah, kinda." You finally admit. "It’s just that even though I know you don’t care much for stuff like this, you treat me better then my real parents ever have… guess I just started projecting a little." You scratch at the back of your head and look away from her a little, feeling embarrassed to finally admit to all this. Beau places an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer to her side.

"I’ve never claimed to be good at this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I like you kid, you got a good spirit to you. So if you want to see me as a sort of mother figure then sure I’ll take it, and if your parents somehow found out and don’t like it that’s just too bad for them." She puts on a goofy smile and ruffles at your hair, making you relax and laugh a little at her antics.

Yasha

One of the few things you liked when it was just you and Yasha traveling alone was the number of flower fields you managed to come across, Yasha’s love and collection of flowers had passed over to you. You spend hours looking through the wildflowers until you found a good handful of them that you and Yasha would then braid into each other’s hair (if your hair is long enough), or sometimes you’d just roll around in the grass. It wasn’t much but these little moments were nice temporary distractions from the troubles that weighed you both down. After putting in the last flower to Yasha’s braid she stands and looks at you.

"How do I look?"

"You look like and angel mama." She body stiffens and her breath hitches a little at your words.

"You-you called me mama." Hearing her say it out loud made you realize your mistake.

"I’m sorry, it just slipped out." You apologize, now feeling bad for the slip of your tounge.

"No, i-it’s ok. Just surprising." She kneels down and gently pulls you in for a hug which you return. "You know…" Yasha starts but let’s her words drift a bit before continuing. "Zuala and I had always wanted a child."

"You have?" You look up at her with big, curious eyes at the mention of her deceased wife.

"Yeah… and I always thought if we did, they would be a lot like you." You smile and cuddle into her more as she tightens her grip on you a bit, as if the second she lets go you’d disappear from her. You stayed like that in the field for who knows how long, just savouring each others presents.

Molly

Taverns, where you can get all the latest gossip, at least decent meals and loads of entertainment from drunken idiots thinking they're some big hotshot, and music one can never forget the music. Taverns were also a place where sketchy individuals would prey on poor unsuspecting souls, which is why you were always super careful and alert to the people you would interact with. Some said sketchy individuals had just asked you "innocently" to join them and see something cool in the alleyway, you had to hold back a laugh at these armatures, did they really think you for an idiot just because you were young? Well that wasn’t going to stop you from having a little fun of your own.

"Before we go, I should really ask if it’s ok." You say faking your own innocence, except yours was much more convincing as you make your way over to the bar where Molly was flirting with one of the locals. You tug on his coat to get his attention, he gives you a quick side glance. "Hey papa," now you had his full attention as he whips around to look at you with a shocked expression. "Those men over there say they want to show me something cool in the alleyway, can I go?" You ask still playing your little game as you point to the now nervous men. It still took Molly a second to register your words but once it clicked into his head what was happening he gives you a sly smile.

"No no, you stay here while your papa has a chat with them." He say loud enough for the men to hear, he stands and the men dash out of the tavern. "Armatures." He mutters, sitting down again.

"Aww, are they really your child? They’re such a cutie." The woman Molly had been talking to coos at you. You give her a smile.

"Well it was-"

"Yes they are." Molly cuts you off, picking you up and placing you on his lap. You look at him a little confused and he pokes your nose, then he goes off making up a story of how he found you and took you into his care. You playfully roll your eyes at his tall tale that the woman and now a few others were eating up unaware of all the contradictions in the story. Behind all the exaggerations and using you as a chick magnet there was genuine affection Molly had towards you, a part of him liking the thought of you being his kid, even if it wasn’t by blood.

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wearesorcerer · 3 years

Note

You've probably written about that but let's get into some details: what inspired Meow's design? From the species of awakened kitty, to the parts of their outfit, the spells they slot, the name? (The name I do recall you explaining so no need to answer that one, just in case people dunno and want a link or something.)

Bonus: list your favourite feline characters in media.

Meow started out as a friend's character concept that never got used: a wizard polymorphed into a cat who kept her (I think it was a her...) spellbook as scratch marks on a board somewhere in a house (like, attic floorboard sort of thing). The form was intentional for some reason; I don't recall if she was a nothlit or not, but I'm pretty sure given the friend that she wasn't.

Meow's transition into my character concept (before becoming a sorcerer) started with the "cat wizard" premise and nixed the polymorphy part. (I like making inhuman characters.) I chose Jiji (Kiki's Delivery Service) as the general model because I've always liked him. The bit about being kitten sized but fully grown is mostly that Jiji looks really small to me relative to the humans, though his girlfriend is about the same size. (Other Ghibli cats are larger.)

I then added a wizard hat -- probably inspired by that image I found, but mainly to be on-the-nose about it.

So there's Meow at basics: Jiji with a wizard hat.

The trouble with playing a true cat is that, with D&D's rules as written, you can't cast spells and can barely use magic items: D&D requires human speech for verbal components for spells and command words for many magic items (incantations) and human-like hands for somatic components (gestures) for spells and holding or using most magic items. Animals don't even necessarily get the same magic item slots in editions that use such a system! So what's a cat caster to do?

This is where ioun stones and reserve feats (mentioned in Meow's bio) come in.

Ioun stones are slotless magic items (so you don't have to worry about whether or not you can equip them) that provide passive bonuses to whomever they're equipped to. They're slotless because they float around you -- no need to interact with them with hands, don't have to wear them. The only trouble I have with ioun stones (and the reason I have yet to use them in a game) is that since they are little gems (of any gem shape) orbiting their user, someone else could (and would) simply snatch them away. (I think this is a little too easy and they should get some sort of telekinetic resistance to such attempts while equipped, but that's just me.) Prior to use on this blog, Meow would have taken all of the feats and prestige classes needed to reduce the number of pages it takes to transcribe a spell into a spellbook, then would have engraved the spellbook onto ioun stones (one spell per stone). This would give Meow a spellbook a cat could carry.

(I had also considered Spell Mastery, but that's so limited that you may as well be a Sorcerer.)

Reserve feats were late additions to 3.5, appearing in Complete Mage and Complete Champion. Each feat gives you an ability similar to a 5e cantrip in power, but (frequently) equivalent in theme to a low-level spell: so long as you have a spell of an appropriate type (usually a subschool or descriptor) "available to cast" (meaning you have a spell slot available that can cast a given spell of the type specified and either you know such a spell [Sorcerer] or have it prepared [Wizard]), you can use the feat's granted ability at-will. Usually, the ability's save DC, damage dice, range, and/or duration scale with the level of the spell held in reserve. These abilities are Supernatural, which means they don't use components at all, take a standard action (= 5e's action) to use by default, and do not provoke attacks of opportunity, but are negated in antimagic fields and do not benefit from most feats and class features that improve spells. There aren't many good ones, sadly, and there are few ways of "optimizing" such feats, but they're helpful in an edition that didn't even have at-will cantrips.

With those things and the Silent and Still Metamagic feats (yes, metamagic was a category of feat in 3.5), Meow would be functional, if low-powered for a Wizard.

These were all hypotheticals until I got the appointment to the Collective. Meow had been on my mind at the time, but had been sitting in murky half-thoughts for a while before then, so it was more happy coincidence that I ended up changing Meow from a wizard into a sorcerer. (I was tempted not to: it almost defeats the purpose of the ioun stones.) That and I'm sick of playing humanoids besides elves, but that's a digression.

I had most of what I needed, but was left with a name. Dissatisfied with options I found on random name generators, I decided to make my own. I combined "Ozymandias" with "Meow" and changed the initial vowel; I then inserted "Felix" in there and pretended the resulting "-xas" was enough to evoke "Abraxas". "-imilian" at the end is because I think "Maximilian" (or however it's spelled) is fun to say. I don't recall where the "-cyrri-" came from off-hand; I know I wrote it down somewhere. (It might be to add letters of the alphabet.) "But no one will get the allusions if stacked that much!" Quiet, you! The point was to come up with an outlandish name -- the sort you see fictional wizards using. The longer the name and the harder it is to understand, the more difficult it is for someone to steal it. Plus, it makes "Meow" funnier. ("Chiro" is a common Japanese cat name; I list it as an alternative because even I think "Meow" is a dumb name for a cat.)

Favorite fictional cats: Jiji, Mewtwo, Mew, Meowth/Persian, maybe Salem (Sabrina the Teenage Witch), ... I'm sure there are others. I like cats, I just don't tend to think about them re: favorite characters.

And, as always, glompage for the ask!

#Meow #Azcyrrimeowndifelixasimilian #Chiro #catposting #ask meme #thanks for the ask!

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raeynbowboi · 4 years

Text

In the Dragon’s Dungeon: How to Play as Maleficent in D&D 5e

As a card-carrying, certified geek, I’m a fan of many dorky hobbies, and among them is Dungeons and Dragons. So in honor of Halloween, I’ve decided to dedicate my very first build to the Mistress of All Evil, Maleficent from the 1959 Disney Classic Sleeping Beauty, and to a lesser extent, her role as the leader of the Disney Villains in the Kingdom Hearts series and other 2nd tier canon material using the animated version. For this build, we are only interested in her animated counterpart. Jolie’s portray is far too noble and sympathetic for the diabolical witch we’re working with here. Maleficent is a very powerful fairy, so our goal for her build is to focus on causing as much unhappiness, pain, and misery as she possibly can.

Picking a Race

While our first instinct is to call Maleficent a Wicked Witch, she is in fact, a fairy. She’s based on the Aged Fairy (or the Bad Fairy in some translations) from the Grimm and Perrault versions of the Sleeping Beauty fairytale. Unfortunately, while Fey exist in DnD, they are not a specific playable race with stats, so we’re forced to improvise. However, there are 3 subraces which seem best suited for what Maleficent could be: [Fallen Aasimar] - since all the other fairies have wings and can only perform good magic, this dark variation on the playable “angel” race which has lost its wings could fit Maleficent’s descent and mirror the fall of Lucifer. With this option she gains +2 Charisma and +1 Strength, 60 feet of darkvision, resistance to both necrotic and radiant damage, the power to instill fear in those around her, and boost her own necrotic damage for a short period between rests. However, this might not fit her the best, and she is slain by a sword endowed with good fairy magic, which could be considered radiant damage. However, Ventus puts her to sleep in Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep, so that could be a point in favor of this racial build for the character. [Maka Clan Elf] - Maka Clan elves specialize in curses by praying to old gods of nature and death. With this choice, she gains +2 Dexterity and +1 Wisdom, proficiency with Religion, 60 feet of darkvision, resistance to charm, immunity to sleep spells, and can enter an elven trance instead of sleeping. As a Maka Clan Elf, she knows the Thaumaturgy Cantrip at level 1, and starting at levels 3 and 5 respectively, she can cast both Hex and Crown of Madness once per long rest using her Wisdom modifier. [Shadar-Kai Elf] - The third option is the Shadar-Kai. Once a fey like other elves, the Shadar-Kai became loyal to the Raven Queen, and they have taken up refuge in Shadowfell, a dark dimension. This nicely mirrors Maleficent’s state as a corrupted fairy that now dwells in darkness. As a Shadar-Kai elf, she gains +2 Dexterity and +1 to Constitution, Proficiency with Perception, 60 feet of darkvision, resistance to necrotic damage, being charmed, immunity to sleep spells, and can enter an elven trance instead of sleeping. This archetype lacks pre-set one-use spells, but does allow her to teleport up to 30 feet and appear transparent as she does so, gaining resistance to all types of damage while moving like this starting at 3rd level.

As for her background, we’ll make her a Noble, since Queen Leah (yes, she has a name) refers to her as Your Exellency, which denotes Maleficent as a member of the aristocracy.

Powers and Abilities:

Sleeping Beauty (1959)

-appear and disappear in a flash of fire (teleports only herself, not Diablo) -create gusts of wind (possibly? She may have just blown down the doors) -has a Raven for a familiar -bestow curses, hexes, jinxes, etc. -bestow magical sleep -spy with Diablo (Flora is even afraid to speak her plan to hide Aurora out of fear that Maleficent might find out somehow, Diablo also later finds Aurora, acts as Maleficent’s alarm system, and leads her minions to where the intruders are.) -summon frost, snow, ice, or cold to kill Flora’s flowers -possibly some level of omniscience or divination? (Merrywhether states that Maleficent knows everything, interpret as you see fit) -shoot lightning with her staff. -Put out fires (the fire in the fireplace goes out when she lures Aurora) -possibly transmutation/relocating walls? (The Fireplace suddenly transforms into a passageway, but it’s unclear if that was already there, or if she created this doorway to lead Aurora to the spinning wheel. But once Aurora has been lead away from her room, Maleficent closes off the doorway that she created, and the fairies have to use magic to open the doorway again.) -Appearing as a floating green light (this may or may not be similar to when the three good fairies look like flying balls of colored light when in their shrunken forms.) -Hypnosis/Suggestion (Aurora clearly looks hypnotized while following Maleficent to the Spinning Wheel, only hesitating when she hears familiar voices calling her name, but is then compelled by Maleficent to touch the spindle) -creating inanimate objects out of thin air (she creates a black spinning wheel) -call lightning from the sky -raise a thicket of thorns -using non-physical form to fly/move quickly (as she flies from her tower in front of Phillip in some sort of spiral of sparks) -All the Powers of Hell (her minions are also a disgrace to The Forces of Evil) -transform into a dragon (with a fire breath attack) -weak to holy/radiant damage?

Suggested or Implied Powers These are powers she never really demonstrates in the film, but the other fairies can do them, so it’s possible she can too: -bestow gifts/blessings -shrink to a small size -change people into plants and back again -make inanimate objects float/act semi-conscious -create food -conjure clothing/don disguises -remove the other fairies’ wings -use magic to zap/weld off chains -conjure unholy/necrotic weapons and shields -turn creatures to stone -transform stones into bubbles, arrows into flowers, and boiling oil into a rainbow. -bestow an unholy/necrotic enchantment to a weapon -it’s unclear if her minions are mortal goblins that actually exist in the world, or if they’re demon minions she was given when she sold her service to Chernabog. Thus, it’s uncertain if she can summon more, or if she’s limited to the mortal beings in her service.

Kingdom Hearts

-create, summon, and control the Heartless -Teleporting (this time without columns of fire) -creating portals between worlds/planes/planets -bestow the power to control the Heartless -appear as a transparent projection -bring Oogie Boogie back to life (without the need of his body) -teleport Oogie Boogie and herself -Turn Santa Claus into a Heartless (or at least trying to) -Create a Wall of Fire -”awaken” the evil inside of people’s hearts/force people to stop repressing their evil impulses -make rocks float -summon meteors of heaven -conjure lightning indoors -move as a spiral of sparks/dark fire -Can be put to sleep by Ventus through magic

Converting her abilities to Spells and Feats

Before we can settle on a class, we have to decide what spells would fit under Maleficent based on her canon abilities, then pick a class or multi-classes that cover the widest selection of those spells and powers.

-Mobility -Arcane Gate (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) -Astral Projection (Cleric, Warlock, Wizard) -Dimension Door (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) -Misty Step (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) -Teleport (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) -Curses -Bestow Curse (Bard, Cleric, Wizard) -Hex (Warlock) -Nature’s Power -Call Lightning (Druid) -Control Flames (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard) -Gust of Wind (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard) -Lightning Bolt (Sorcerer, Wizard) -Melf’s Minute Meteors (Sorcerer, Wizard) -Sleet Storm (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard) -Ray of Frost (Sorcerer, Wizard) -Wall of Thorns (Druid) -Transmutation -Flesh to Stone (warlock, wizard) -Polymorph (Bard, Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard) -Enchantment -Charm Person (Bard, Druid, Sorcerer,Warlock, Wizard) -Suggestion (Bard, Sorcerer,Warlock, Wizard) -Necromancy -True Resurrection (Cleric, Druid) -Evil Flavored -Hellish Rebuke (Warlock) -Negative Energy Flood (Warlock, Wizard) -Shadow of Moil (Warlock) -Heartless -Conjure Shadow Demon (Sorcerer, Wizard) -Infernal Calling (Warlock, Wizard) -Summon Lesser Demons (Warlock, Wizard) -Summon Greater Demon (Warlock, Wizard)

Get to Class

If you want to cover the majority of Maleficent’s powers, a Druid/Wizard combination is your best bet. However, Maleficent very clearly states that her power is directly given to her from Hell and that she serves the Forces of Evil, which is textbook Warlock. So, I would label her a Warlock/Druid. Specifically, a Fiend Patron Warlock, as in other Disney material, it’s stated that Maleficent serves Chernabog, the demon from Night on Bald Mountain. However, to offer multiple options, she could also be a Warlock sworn to the Raven Queen, which puts a lot of emphasis on having a Raven as almost an extension of oneself. As a Druid, she would fit well with the Circle of Land. Maleficent’s domain is in the lonesome, desolate mountains, which will also allow her to learn Lightning Bolt, despite being neither a Sorcerer, nor a Wizard.

Stats and Proficiencies

Considering all she had to do was appear and have people gasp in fear of her very presence, we can assume that Intimidation is likely a very highly trained skill of hers. She’s also good at lying to people, so Deception is another skill that would suit her nicely. Looking at how she handles herself, she’s very well-spoken, charming, and well-mannered until she snaps and starts hollering like a cat in heat. So, we should assume that Charisma is going to be her top stat. Next up for the Mistress of all evil is going to be her Wisdom stat, especially if you decided to make her a Maka Clan Elf. We see the wise, cunning side of Maleficent often in Kingdom Hearts as she frequently warns her weak-minded colleagues not to give in to the darkness, which she herself is too self-aware to succumb to. Next is Constitution, we can’t have her losing her concentration while she’s casting spells, like Oogie Boogie did while she was trying to turn Santa into a Heartless. Fourth is going to be Intelligence. It’s not super vital in most 5e builds I’ve seen, but the Mistress of All Evil is actually quite intelligent and clever. We especially see this again in the Kingdom Hearts series where she finds ways to corrupt the world in search of power. We’ll give her Strength next to last. I’m sure she can hit you with her staff or something. And we’ll be dumping Dexterity because this lady doesn’t even try to move in the original kingdom hearts game when you fight her. She’s one of the easiest boss battles because she’s so stationary. She gets better in Birth By Sleep where she’s teleporting around the field, but she still tends to stand still quite a lot. However, if you want to flip Dex and Strength for playability, no one would blame you.

So there you have it. Maleficent is a Noble Fallen Aasimar or a Noble variety of Elf, and is a Mountain Land Druid that has sworn a pact to either a Fiend (Chernabog) or the Raven Queen (via Diablo). What are your thoughts on this build? Do you think she should have been done differently? Did I make any mistakes in my analysis? And do you feel inspired to embrace your inner villain in your next campaign? Do you have a suggestion for who I should do next? Please, any feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

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wxlfbites · 3 years

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The Polymorph Chronicles

Ask Me About My Daemon!

It’s been a little while since I’ve talked about daemonism in a more in-depth way rather than just in passing, so why not get back into the swing of it by doing a “daemon tag”. These questions are from a question prompt post by user flynnardkuwata but I wanted to answer them in a different kind of format. So without further ado:

Anfang: What gender is your daemon?

Philomena is a girl but on occasion she can have a more masculine kind of energy.

Belisaria: How talkative is your daemon? What does their voice sound like?

Mena’s not necessarily a chatterbox but we do talk a lot when we get on it. She’s more likely to communicate through tough and body language. She has a soothing southern accent, though sometimes it’s more transatlantic, and her tone is soft and motherly. If anyone else could hear here, they’d absolutely describe her voice as being warm and welcoming.

Cerebaton: Do you think your daemon is smarter than you?

I wouldn’t say more intelligent necessarily, I think she’s definitely more rational and logical than I am most of the time.

Golden Monkey: Are there any unscrupulous traits that you find your daemon possesses? Would you say they have a dark side?

Philomena can be so judgmental it disgusts me. There have been a few times I’ve had to scold her or give her the silent treatment because she’s said some nasty things about people. I don’t think she has a dark side, just has some not so nice opinions I don’t approve of.

Hester: How would adventures with your daemon be like?

Extremely fun. Philomena is curious and sometimes rambunctious so she’d be getting into everything, trying to play with things she probably shouldn’t, and making funny observations I probably would have never noticed.

Kaisa: Does your daemon notice things before you do? Are they more aware than you?

Sometimes. I know I’ve learned a lot about myself from her that I otherwise probably wouldn’t. She’s more observant than I am.

Karossa: What mood is your daemon usually in? Do you even feel their emotions?

I’d say Philomena is usually in a calm mood. I always feel her emotions so when she’s sad, happy, excited, etc. it influences my own mood and amplifies itself because there are two of us feeling the same thing. Sometimes our moods are opposites though, like when I’m unmotivated and have no energy but Mena is bouncing off the walls wanting to do things at 3x speed.

Kirjava: What form do you think your daemon will settle as? What do you want them to settle as? If you are settled, do you particularly like their form?

Philomena is settled as a red squirrel. I think it fits her really well and she absolutely loves it herself. Her essence is embodied by the squirrel and the way the analysis fits both of our personalities is almost too perfect.

Kulang: Do you know your daemon’s personality types? Would you say their personality is the opposite of yours?

I think our personality types compliment each other really well, while I am a Hufflepuff, Philomena is a Gryffindor. I am INFP-t and Mena is ENFJ-a.

Kyrillion: How do you think your daemon would interact with the daemons of others? What about with other humans?

Philomena, as I said before, is really curious and sometimes rambunctious. We’ve daydreamed about interacting with other daemons and such and almost always she takes on a complimentary or twin-like form to the other daemon. She loves imagining herself flying around with bird daemons or rolling around in the grass with dog daemons. She’d be polite with humans, she’s very friendly with both humans and other daemons so I’m sure others would find her very pleasant.

Matapan: Does your daemon comfort you/cheer you up when you’re down?

Almost all the time. Sometimes I’m too upset to focus on what she’s doing but when I can focus, she’s trying everything she can to help make me feel better. Whether its physical affection, kind and inspiring words, or being silly to make me laugh.

Musca: What do you think your parents’ daemons would have named your daemon? Do you think it would have been a fitting name?

I think my mom would have named her something like Amaris, Ruta or Rivka. All of which are Hebrew (like my name) and have meanings surrounding being given by god or being a companion. I think I like Rivka the best out of those but the name Philomena is just something we know is meant to be.

Pantalaimon: Does your daemon argue with you a lot? About what? Who’s right?

We argue sometimes. Mostly about my stupidity 😂 Mena is always right.

Ragi: Is your daemon more mature than you?

I think in some ways? Maybe in the same way I answered if I think she’s smarter than me.

Ratter: What forms did your daemon take before you were settled?

She was most commonly a grizzly bear and a fancy rat but also loved (and still loves) dog, bird, monkey and cat forms.

Salcilia: Would you give up your daemon for anything? What would life be like without them?

I wouldn’t... couldn’t... give her up for anything. Life would have no purpose at all without her. I’d feel void and completely without direction. This is something (along with separation/intercision) we rarely think about because it’s too upsetting.

Sandling: What is your daemon’s outlook on life? What are their opinions on various philosophical topics (the afterlife, the nature of morality, etc.)

I think they match mine almost exactly, if not slightly more realistic where mine are more fantastical. We pretty much share the exact beliefs otherwise.

Sayan Kotor: What would your daemon be like if they existed in corporeal form? Do you wish corporeal daemons existed?

We wish every day that corporeal daemons existed. Even as we’re writing this, we’re feeling very sad and cheated that they aren’t. Mena would get us into trouble a lot because she’d be knocking everything over and “borrowing” things that aren’t hers. She’d probably say a few things that aren’t very nice and I’d have to apologize on her behalf which would cause a lot of anxiety. We’d be really close though, almost always touching in some way.

Sergi: Would you have liked to undergo separation (a la the witches) from your daemon?

Absolutely not. Just the thought of that disgusts us. Not that the witches and their daemons are wrong or disgusting for going through their rituals, but me and Mena could never!

Stelmaria: Has your daemon ever fallen in love? What do they think of your past datemates/crushes?

I don’t think so. I think she’s had a crush on someone elses daemon but it was very fleeting and short lived. Philomena has expressed a dislike in everyone I’ve dated because she doesn’t think they deserved me, which in retrospect, she was right... like always.

Sophonax: How well would your daemons form have matched your physical appearance?

I’ve heard people say that they definitely see me as a red squirrel and that Mena matches me very well 😅

Zohariel: What is your daemon’s name, and what does it mean?

Her name is Philomena and it means “friend of strength”, “friend, lover”, “mind, purpose, strength, courage” and “loved one”.

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the-big-nope · 4 years

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Been rewatching Vox Machina in fits and spurts over the last few months (currently on The Kill Box), and recent meta has me comparing how it might have gone if it was the Mighty Nein in this Kevdak fight (or something very similar).

Bless that person that said Vox Machina fights like individual heroes vs. Mighty Nein who fights more as a unit, because it feels damn accurate in the Kevdak fight. As a whole, VM is FAR more DPS focused than the M9. You’ve got Grog, Vax, and Percy, who are pure damage dealers. You’ve got Vex, who’s got access to spells but mainly uses them to boost her damage/number of attacks. Even Pike and Keyleth, who are what most people consider more support-based classes, tend to lean toward attacking more than anything else (Pike favors guiding bolt, spiritual weapon, and healing when needed, while Keyleth tends to spend large chunks of battle in beast shape or otherwise using big damage spells like call lightning, sunbeam, and blight. Keyleth’s broad utility tends to shine outside of battle, but she’s definitely a fighter druid once they do get into scraps). The only dedicated supporter VM really had was Scanlan, and that tended to be single-target focus: hold person, modify memory, counterspell, and bardic features that aided one person at a time. VM was a crowd of hard-hitting badasses whose fights were epic as hell when it came to straight up slug-fests that they could bash their way through, but who could fast get into trouble if the odds outweighed their DPS output or there’s some magical trick to them.

Compare to the Mighty Nein, aka Team Debuffs McGee. I’m not CritRoleStats, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression that VM were probably putting out better damage at this level, given their sheer focus on it. However, it feels like Matt gets more frustrated by the M9 steamrolling through his encounters this campaign because the M9 are such a tough nut to crack when they’re all together. They have Jester and Caduceus stacking buffs and debuffs (power combo Bless and Bane, Incite Greed, and single target stuff like Command and Polymorph) like crazy, with the workload split allowing Jester to focus on damage and Cad on support. They have Caleb also on support and control, with some big broad damage spells that can wipe adds damn quick if Episode 86 was anything to go by. Nott’s mainly DPS with some of that Scanlan-reminiscent single-target control like Phantasmal Force and Hideous Laughter. Fjord’s just unpredictable as fuck: he can deal damage, move players around the battlefield, drop a demon on a boss’s head, and now with Paladin spellcasting he could even get in on the buff/debuff action. Even Yasha and Beau, the primary tanks and DPS, have some control and support abilities: Sentinel’s been crazy useful at times, Yasha can buff her entire team for a round, Beau can stun AND find out vulnerabilities to exploit in an enemy. They’re a VERY well-balanced team with some pretty solid strategies they tend to lean on. All together, the M9 are near iron-clad, but take away a member or two, or turn them on each other, and they’re much more vulnerable.

So in looping back to my original thought about the Kevdak fight and how it would look with the M9 in place of VM. Put them at an equal level (12), accounting that VM knew what they were getting into and had time to prepare their spells, and ignoring variables like how the dice rolls are going, I feel like this is the type of fight the M9 would be kinda killer at.

There are very few magic factors in play, mostly just melee fighters and archers. Good news for all the M9 magic users, since their enemies’ mental stats probably aren’t going to be stellar, making it easier to get save spells through. There are one or two druids that mostly served as healers, but with multiple M9 members able to counterspell, not as big a threat. The druids would probably see more combat use in this scenario, but then that splits into two alternatives: they stay in normal form, but they’re not the tankiest and don’t halve damage, so a few bolt shots from a hidden Nott would probably be enough to take them out; or they go into beast shape, making them able to take more damage but eliminating their spellcasting element. Since the fight ended when Kevdak died anyway, their staying power doesn’t matter as much.

There are a lot of adds in play, but the M9 have a wizard available with AOE/multi-target damage spells on hand specifically made for clearing crowds. Granted, those adds are tougher than the average minions (mostly barbs), so them getting up in a party member’s face beforehand isn’t good, but the M9 all tend to have countermeasures for that (Cad can go invisible and run, Fjord and Jester can teleport, Beau and Nott can disengage, and Caleb can turn into a giant fucking ape). Of course, if Jester can get off an Incite Greed in the middle of a crowd, that takes care of a good portion of them for a while.

Position Cad in the right place and he is set to ruin Kevdak’s day. Crit cancels, can inflict vulnerability so his barbarian resistance is null, Ray of Enfeeblement, Bane. Just make sure he doesn’t get swarmed and Caduceus is a serious drain on a boss’s effectiveness.

Grog was VM’s only real front-liner (Vax was more of a hit-and-run artist and Keyleth wasn’t always available). The M9 has at least two in Yasha and Beau who would likely be on Kevdak. Not nearly as tanky as Grog, but action economy’s in their favor to take the heat off each other a bit. Beau has stun, and while it’s not likely to succeed, it’s always a possibility, and she is great to stack attack buffs on: haste, holy weapon, enlarge, etc. Additionally, they don’t have to stay alone if the situation calls for it: Fjord can also be a front-liner, Jester’s duplicate can cast touch spells, and if Caleb gets freed up then he can serve as Ape Tank.

Nott/Veth just does a shit ton of damage, and it’s much easier for her to hide and get sneak attack now that she’s a halfling again. It would probably be easy to pick off the mooks, and if she combos with Cad’s path to the grave, Kevdak takes full sneak attack too. Her spells are also great for distraction, and again, a crowd of mostly barbarians probably chose to dump the mental stats.

And those are just their typical strategies! There’s so many individual spells or tricks available to them that they’ve used before to great effect: Banishment, Antilife Shell, Cat’s Ire for grappling purposes, Slow, Summon Greater Demon, and the ever chaotic Polymorph. You never know what the M9 is going to pull out of the bag.

The Kill Box was a hell of a fight for Vox Machina, in large part because of the sheer amount of enemies, since Kevdak was paralyzed for a good chunk of the fight. If it had been just them up against Kevdak, they probably would have whittled him down super quick, but without any way to manage the large amount of minions aside from pure damage, things got tight with the action economy stacked against them. It probably would have been even MORE gnarly, if not unwinnable, without Scanlan and the essential control elements he provided. If it had been the Mighty Nein, it probably still would have been a challenge, but I don’t think nearly as much. Their plethora of options for controlling the battlefield, pulling themselves out of sticky spots, boosting their team’s abilities while reducing their enemies’, and without many opposing spellcasters to counter them, the Mighty Nein would probably be in their element in this fight.

#nerding about dnd mechanics #don't mind me #critical role #vm #m9 #vox machina #mighty nein #cr spoilers #long post

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onebloodsoakedlion · 4 years

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Abandoned!Conquest Ryoma in Fodlan - Part 2

The Black Eagles were a real enigma. The house was quite diverse in personality. And having a leader with rather strange ideals was just the cherry on top.

But one thing Ryoma noticed was that the Black Eagles had one less student than everyone else. While the Golden Deer and Blue Lions had eight students, the Black Eagles only had seven. Ryoma decided to query Edelgard on this matter. “Well, yes, we do have eight students. It’s just that one of them is too timid to show her face.” “Well, who is this elusive student?” “A small, purple-haired girl by the name of Bernadetta,” Edelgard replied, “But she’s such a recluse, I don’t think she wants to see you. She’d rather be left alone.” “Like hell, Edelgard,” Ryoma laughed back, “How do you know she’s not scared of me? Even the most skittish cats can find a human that they can warm up to.” “Okay then, if you insist, Ryoma,” Edelgard replied, pulling out a map, “This is Bernadetta’s room, where you’re most likely to find him. Good. Luck.”

Bernadetta, of course, was hiding in her bedroom, quietly writing. A loud, hard knock sent an electric shock through the poor girl, causing her to accidently mark the page. She turned to the door and let out a nervous “Who is it?” “It’s... um... well... someone from another world,” Ryoma struggled to get out, “If you’d been there when I first came here, you’d know all about me.” “What are you doing here,” Bernadetta exclaimed, “Have you come to kill me!?” “What!? No,” Ryoma replied, rather shocked, “Why would I do that? I’ve just come to your room because you were the missing Black Eagle. I wanted to see you too.” “Okay, well you’ve met me, now please leave,” Bernadetta replied. At this point Ryoma would’ve respected Bernadetta’s request and left. But he had seen her SOUL, scanned her variables... Her SOUL trait was Creativity, nothing new, But it was cracked, moreso than Dimitri’s. Ryoma had seen her Bio, and her “Dislikes” were pretty alarming. Speaking to people, imposing figures and overbearing fathers. Overbearing fathers!? Was she abused? Ryoma HAD to find out. “Oh I don’t think so,” Ryoma chuckled, “I’d like to really see you. To really get to know you. Just as I’ve been able to see and know everyone else.” “No, please,” Bernadetta cried out, rushing to lock the door, “You can’t do this! You can’t invade my room like this! Leave me alone!” Suddenly, the door seemed to unlocked itself. It swung open, to reveal Ryoma, who wiggled his index finger in front of her, which seemed to have a beast’s claw attached to it. “I see you’ve noticed my little claw. These tiny daggers are useful for so many different things, especially lockpicking. They even make decent weapons, but I don’t feel like using them on you...” Bernadetta couldn’t even scream at the Hoshidan King. She shook like a leaf, sweating and pale, “Please don’t hurt me...” she barely manage to squeak out before falling to the floor. “Oh shit...” Ryoma sighed to himself, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat faint in fear like that before...”

Bernadetta found herself lying on her bed. But something wasn’t quite right. She felt... something... pressing up and down on her abdomen. She looked up to find a rather large cat, covered in red fur and with a mane of brown hair not to dissimilar to Ryoma’s, purring loudly whilst kneading her belly. She nervously reached out to pat the feline on the head. He responded by looking up at her and saying “Oh, you’re awake.” “What,” Bernadetta screamed, “You’re sound like that man... who came into my room.” “I am him,” Ryoma replied, “You fainted when I was talking about my claws, so I put you on your bed and turned into a cat so I could calm you down. Turns out it was a good idea since you like animals so much.” “Why are you here,” Bernadetta groaned. “At first,” Ryoma replied, “I just wanted to know you. But now, after witnessing how timid you are, I think you need some help. Emotional help. I’ve never seen a human, or even a cat, this timid before. What you need, is someone to hang around and keep you safe, like a guardian of sorts. And what better guardian for you than a cat that rubs himself against your legs and purrs in the most insistent manner?” He burrowed his head into the girl’s chest and continued to purr. Bernadetta could only continue to pat the polymorphic creature. His fur was oddly soft...

“Hello there, Bernadetta,” Hubert said in his usual, monotone voice. “AAAAH,” Bernadetta screamed, “OH GODS! THERE’S A MONSTER! IT’S COME TO KILL ME!” Ryoma pushed himself inbetween Bernadetta and the creepy Hubert, arched his back, puffed out his tail and let out a loud, sharp hiss. “The hell is WRONG with you,” Ryoma yowled, “Bernadetta has a problem! Don’t sneak up on her like some sort of shadow monster!” “Ryoma, is that you,” Hubert replied with a chuckle, “What happened to you.” Ryoma’s tail swished from side to side, “I turned myself into a cat. So what? Give Bernadetta some space.” He turned around and rubbed against the girl’s legs and brushed her hand with his tail. He turned to the creepy man of little childrens’ nightmares, “Look, I don’t know why she’s like this, but I’m gonna have to get to the bottom of it. Now leave her be.” Shocked, Hubert had no choice but to back off.

Ryoma would accompany Bernadetta in feline form whenever she had to leave her room. It got so time-consuming that Ryoma had to time travel in order to meet any of the others. But within weeks he could sense improvement within the girl. Sometimes, when Ryoma was parked up in her room, he would hear her talking to herself about her father. In fact, Ryoma had read one of her stories about her father while she was asleep. The one Ryoma found was a horror story about a little girl whose father was secretly an ancient demon, who, after giving birth to her, wanted to warp and twist her soul, so that when she was married off, she would curse her husband, take his soul, and give it to the demon. Ryoma was so disgusted, he decided something had to be done.

It was now the school holidays, and by now Bernadetta had warmed up to Ryoma enough for him to remain in human form, which had made her look up to him as a guardian angel of sorts. Ryoma had decided that today was the best day to sort things out. “I feel like taking us on an adventure,” Ryoma blurted out, trying to think, “I wanna let you see the things that you’ve missed out on, cooped up in your room like that.” “A-Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Bernadetta stammered, “I’ve never been outside the monastery for a while, outside of the occasional battle...” “I’ll protect you,” Ryoma reassured the child, “You should know that by now. And we’re not just gonna walk there, we’ll teleport!”

Ryoma took Bernadetta through numerous areas of Fodlan, and even out of Fodlan, including Nohr and Hoshido in his own timeline. Bernadetta was quite frightened by the unfamilliar sights at first, but eventually came to enjoy the experience. Ryoma was hoping that this would prepare her mentally for the confrontation that lay ahead.

“Wow, I can’t believe that all this exists! I need to go outside more often!” “Well yes,” Ryoma replied, “And we have just one more place to visit! You ready?” “Okay,” Bernadetta affirmed as Ryoma opened the portal. And she got quite a shock, as she stood in front of an all too familiar mansion. “Oh no. Why did you bring me here! WHY HERE!?” “Bernadetta, I’ve heard some... stories... about your father. You know how I said I would protect you? Well, I wanna do something to help you in the long run. And that means giving your worst nightmare a real talking-to.” Bernadetta cowered and backed off, “Well you do that then! I’m staying right here!” Ryoma grabbed her hand, carefully but firmly, “Don’t you want to see me slay the beast? What if you have something to say to it? Some last words to your nightmares before they are finally dispelled?” Bernadetta reluctantly agreed. Ryoma knocked on the doors, while Bernadetta hid in his mane. A middle-aged man appeared, with purple hair similar to his daughter, with an odd resembelance to one of the most evil people in the Puppeteers’ world, one who was rumoured to have killed many people - most of whom were from a group referred to as the “Jews”. And despite Ryoma being a whole head taller than this man, he seemed to be looking down on the Hoshidan King. “Who are you and what do you want?” “I am a member of the Garreg Mach staff,” Ryoma took a breath and calmly replied, “I have come to discuss a few matters regarding your daughter.” Count Varley was rather suspicious, but let Ryoma in anyway, completely unaware of the second person he had brought with him.

“What concerns do you have with my daughter” the man asked in a stone-cold voice. Ryoma’s sharp, feline ears picked up his muttering, “That good-for-nothing bitch...” “Excuse me,” Ryoma asked, barely able to believe even his powerful ears. He hoped his mind was playing tricks on him. “I said, what concerns do you have with my daughter,” the Count asked again, slightly irritated. “Well,” Ryoma began, “We’ve heard... some rumours going around, that you have abused your daughter. Is that true?” “Why I would never,” he angrily exclaimed, “Bernadetta must be telling lies! She’s always trying to get me into trouble, that naughty, impudend, unmarriageable wretch!” Bernadetta began to sob from behind Ryoma’s mane, catching Varley’s attention. “You... brought her with you?” Ryoma, coming up with another idea, drew the Rajinto, pulled Bernadetta out, and held her at katana-point, “Yes, I did. Now tell me the truth! Or she dies.” Bernadetta felt so utterly betrayed, she started sobbing. But Count Varley stood his ground, “You stupid buffoon! You’re just trying to bring down my good name!” And with that, Ryoma thrust his sword... into his left hand, “What!? You’d rather let your own daughter die than admit to hurting her!? What sort of heartless man are you!?” The blood from his hand did not fall to the ground, but instead bled into the blade of Rajinto, which reacted by delivering a small electrical pulse to the bleeding palm, cauterising the wound shut. And with that, the samurai released Bernadetta and sheathed his sword, before putting a hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder and whispering “Just kidding” into her ear, before lunging on the man and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “You have already proven to me, within five minutes, how much of an asshole you are, Count Varely,” Ryoma roared, “If you were TRULY innocent, you would be falsely confessing to abusing her and begging me to leave her alone! But no, you’d rather let her die to preserve your own name. How selfish of you. So... I have an offer you can’t refuse - confess to everything you’ve done to your daughter Bernadetta and tell me why. If you do, I’ll convince Lady Rhea to offer you special protection... If you don’t, I’ll beat you to death with my own bare hands, trash your legacy and smear your good name. And I WILL know if you lie to me... I can see it in your SOUL.” “Okay, fine,” the Count sighed, “Ever since I discovered that Bernadetta had a Crest... I decided that she would make a good wife for a rich husband, so I decided to train her from a young age with chores and whatnot.” “Bullshit,” Ryoma growled, tightening his grip around the Count’s neck and delivering an electrical shock down his spine.

Despite Ryoma’s methods of interrogation, Count Varley continued to hide the details. Ryoma could tell he was hiding something and in response, got more harsh in his threats. He threatened torture, he even dealt a blow or two until Count Varley finally realised that resistance was pointless. He confessed to everything, how he only saw Bernadetta as bait for a rich husband, how he tied her to a chair for hours to get her to be quiet. How he prevented her from having any friends, especially with commoners, how he scorned and mocked her when he felt she wasn’t good enough, how he even paid someone to beat the shit out of a little boy who Bernadetta had befriended, and that above all, his hopes were for Bernadetta to marry a filthy rich man so that HE would get some of the money. It was enough. Ryoma had heard everything. And he was pissed. “My GODS,” Ryoma exclaimed, “You tortured your daughter, all this time, JUST SO YOU COULD GET MONEY!?” He saw a vision of Shura, from a Birthright timeline. He had attacked the army of this timeline’s Corrin, Jozlyn, and tried to still Ryoma’s sword so he could sell it. He saw himself being incredibly pissed at Shura, saying he wanted to bury the pathetic little fucker in coin until he suffocated from all the gold. Though thankfully, Shura only wanted to survive and rebuild his town, and would’ve used the infinite money to do so, if it had been given to him. Shura knew his stuff - money would buy builders and building materials, and that would rebuild his homeland. But Count Varley was none of that. He didn’t have much need for money. He was already well-off, with a rather decent mansion that was well-dressed with luxurious-lookinh furniture and in near-pristine condition. Nothing said that Count Varley had some charitable cause or worthwhile project that needed any monetary funds. “Gods-fucking-damn,” Ryoma growled, shaking the man, “You are the most fucking selfish excuse for a person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. You remember that deal I made? Well I take that back, because you are such a fucking asshole. I know what you’re feeling. You’re just sorry for youself. You don’t even want to make up for what you’ve done. You are beyond redemption.” Ryoma seemed to slap the bastard’s dumb face. It seemed like a weak move at first, until bright red lines appeared on the Count’s face mere seconds later. With claws unsheathed, tail puffed up and ears back, Ryoma let loose on Bernadetta’s abusive asshole of a father with a piercing yowl, using fists and claws interchangeably. A moment later, he suddenly stopped, letting the Count go, who ended up on his hands and knees, looking in fear at Ryoma. Who turned his head towards Bernadetta. “Would you like to... join in?” Bernadetta shook her head, too scared to move. “I promise you, it will be very satisfying.” Bernadetta looked at Ryoma, then at her “father”. “I wonder, does it feel better taking down your worst enemy yourself... or having someone else do it for you? Would you like to help me answer that question.” It was encouragement enough. Bernadetta reluctantly stepped forward, glaring at her father, then laid into him. She seemed weak at first, throwing meek little punches, which seemed like such a joke that the man slapped her in the face. The pain in her cheek and the spiteful glare in his face seemed to spark some resolve in Bernadetta. She tried again, this time, harder and with deliberate effort. She punched him in the nose, emitting a loud crackle as blood sprayed out. As he held his face in pain, she lowered herself to his level before delivering a sharp blow to the ribs, with a tight fist that had the middle finger slightly out. He was struggling to breathe and fell to his side, only to get a sharp kick in the stomach, and then the groin. He groaned in pain and rolled onto his back as she put her hands together and drove her elbow into his chest, before releasing a flurry of kicks to his side, making him roll over once again, onto his stomach, trying to shield himself from her furious kicks. He looked up at her just in time to see her holding her right fist in the air above her head with her left hand, before bringing it down upon his stupid, selfish head. He fell to his side. “Bernadetta - ” was all he managed to get out, before she kicked him once again in the stomach, forcing him onto his back, before kneeling down on him and releasing one final flurry of punches, as hard and fast as she could, until his brains spewed from his skull and his face was no longer recognisable.

Bernadatta pulled herself to her feet, staring at the body of her “father”, panting hard. “You done yet,” Ryoma asked. She nodded, and they walked out. She took one look behind her, and then stared at her bloodied hands. “Look, I dunno whether what we did was right,” Ryoma sighed, realising how much he had let his anger get to him, “But all I know is that pile of shit had it coming...” he looked at Bernadetta, “...and you’re free now. You no longer have to worry about him. He cannot hurt you anymore. You have displayed great courage by letting me help you confront him, and if anyone tries to hurt you, or your friends, you can do to them what you did to him.”

Bernadetta was still rather skittish, but she had been outside her room a lot more, and was definitely making attempts to interact with others. Ryoma had confessed to killing Count Varley, but was able to explain the truth using SOUL data as evidence. He ended up being slapped hard in the face for not letting Bernadetta have her revenge, only for it to be taken back when he admitted her part in the killing. But what satisfied Ryoma the most was seeing Bernadetta make an effort to move on and be the girl she would’ve been if not for the abuse she’d suffered. And Ryoma had realised... He had fixed someone. Not physically, but mentally, just as his sister and therapist FrostFire had done for him. And that was far more satisfying than killing Count Varely.

#Fire Emblem Fates #Abandoned Conquest #Fire Emblem Crossover #Ryoma #Bernadetta #Count Varley #mature #violence #gorewarning #violencewarning #Ryoma got to turn into a cat!#Fodlan #Werecat #child abuse #Bernadetta's dad needed to die change my mind

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unicyclehippo · 4 years

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Prompt if you want it, polymorphed cat/dog!Jester ends up spending the entire hour being fussed over by Beau who has no idea it’s Jester

It had been going really well, you know? And she’s done it dozens of times over now, changing her form or someone else’s so there’s really no trouble to it at all. Or. There shouldn’t have been any trouble to it at all.

Here’s the thing though: she’d been thinking first of all about changing into a big dog, like the ones they’d seen around town, specifically like the one she had seen wandering around on the outskirts of the market, and she had been thinking about that one in particular because it had had a lovely black coat at one point, she could tell because of the snout where it was sleek and black like their sweet and so, so ugly moorbounders, but it had rolled at some point or another in the grey yellow dust here in the city of beasts and so the rest of the coat was now this kind of coarse grey brown, but still a very handsome dog and also very clever because she had seen it wait for the shopkeeper to be distracted before it ran away with a whole fish! And that’s the dog she had been thinking about specifically, only it was just as she was casting it that she kind of wondered if maybe stealth was the thing, you know? And if maybe she should pick a smaller creature, something that would be good at being sneaky, like a cat! Except what if they ate cats around here? She didn’t want to make presumptions or anything but it was called the city of beasts for a reason (probably because of the beasts, let’s be real) and she hasn’t seen any cats around the place except for Frumpkin and as lovely of a cat as he is, he doesn’t count. And so she had gotten stuck, you see, between being a big dog and being a stealthy cat, and when the spell had taken effect she ended up as...this.

She’s not entirely sure what it is. Kind of a dog, kind of a cat. Her fur is mostly a sandy grey, but if she crosses her eyes she can see her about is black (though these eyeballs don’t enjoy crossing as much as her usual eyes) and that her paws are black up to the knees. Of which is has four. That’s a good sign—she’s definitely a creature of some kind. Looking into the smoky, somewhat reflective surface of the brilliant obviously Kryn building she has hidden beside, Jester can see that her form is squat and strong, with the big shoulders of a dog and a narrow cat-like face. Her tail is long and fluffy but the rest of her fur is short and sleek, besides a few tufts on the elbows. Jester spins to gnaw at one of them that dares to tickle and as she does, she can see—not in the poor reflection of the building but with her own eyes—that her fur is spotted and slashed with dark markings, like the patterns on Frumpkin’s coat and she has to laugh, realising that somehow she—or the Traveller—had turned her into some mix of a dog and a cat. The laugh surprises her, the way it feels in a creatures body—in a dog she might have whined, a cat might’ve flicked their tail, but this creature laughs a snickering high pitched laugh that seems oddly familiar, but Jester can’t quite place it.

It seems smart enough of a creature, luckily, and Jester trots out from the alley to find her friends. It takes no small amount of time—not because she has lost them but because the world is extraordinary like this. It unfolds around her in a hundred new and novel and wonderful scents—ones she might ordinarily have dismissed as bad, like the almost rotting fish and the manure shovelled from the stalls with buzzing flies working around them, aren’t bad. They’re interesting, complicated, and Jester has to keep reminding herself that she’s looking for something.

Right! Her friends!

Had they wandered off? Or had she?

She lopes back to the same alley, sure now that she had disappeared out the opposite end she had entered, and revels in the power in this creature—the lean, stocky form hosts powerful muscles that bunch and push and quickly she has eaten up the distance back to the alley and dashed through it—right into the legs of a human, who smells of sweat and dried blood, old meat and leather, of dry bark and dust.

‘Whoa, holy shit! Oh fuck—it’s—Fjord, pull me away, oh fuck,’

‘It’s not attacking you, relax.’

The human—Beau, of course—is accompanied by Fjord. He smells—and Jester knows this because she goes up to him and sniffs, entranced by everything her nose is telling her—he smells of the sea, still, despite their not having been back for weeks. His scent is heavy with brine, washing away most of any other scent that might stick to him, and she finds herself growling, not out of anger but of frustration. She wants to know!

‘Whoa, okay, nice doggy,’ Fjord yelps.

‘Ha! She hates you, Fjord, suck it!’

‘Ha ha, yes, very funny—now help me.’

‘Okay, okay, yeesh.’ Something soft wafts down before Jester’s face, grey and floaty, and she snaps out at it with interest. Before she can snag it, it is pulled below her and wraps neatly around her collar before rushing closed. A leash, Jester thinks, and as this creature, she rolls over and starts trying to gnaw at the fabric. Beau stands above her, a look of clear amusement on her face. ‘Aw, look at you, you’re cute! Hardly vicious at all, are ya?’ She rubs at the creatures belly with a foot, pulls it back with a bark of a laugh when the creature bites playfully. ‘You must have an owner or something. We could look for them while we’re looking for Jes,’ she says to Fjord, who agrees. ‘Also, she’s not a dog. She’s a hyena.’

‘Huh?’

‘She’s a hyena. They’re cool. Kinda weird, but cool. Matriarchal societies. Super powerful olfactory systems. Strong bite. Probably one of the coolest creatures that exist.’

Jester scrambles to her feet. She can feel her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, which has opened into a big grin—it must be scary, coming from a toothy beast like a hyena, but Beau doesn’t seem scared. Properly wary, for sure, but fascinated. Carefully, she reaches out a hand toward her and when Jester allows her to put a hand on her square, furred head, she hears a low,

‘Whoa. Very cool,’ from the other girl.

‘Looks like we won’t be looking for the owner, huh?’

‘I mean. It’d be super wrong. To steal someone’s hyena. When we’re trying to help out the place,’ Beau says, haltingly, clearly eager to take the creature and book it. ‘But if we just happen not to find the owner...’

‘Great. A dying weasel and a terrifying hyena. Perfect.’

Fjord and Beau make a great team. Jester already knew that, but to see them in action without having to take part is something special. Fjord butters up a few people. Threatens a few more with a surprisingly cold and terrifyingly genial demeanour.

Beau cracks her knuckles a few times, or backs him up in such a way that it’s like watching a good play, seeing them bounce increasingly horrifying threats between one another before lobbing one them at the person they’re interrogating.

Jester likes to think having a hyena sat at the humans feet helps too.

It’s getting near to the end of her hour, she’s pretty sure, when a fur-clad individual—half elven, maybe, with the wine dark skin of a dark elf—approaches with a toothy smile.

‘Ah,’ they sigh, ‘I see you found my majestic creature. How good of you to bring them back to me.’

The half-elf smells of dozens of creatures, and of some sharp chemical scent that makes Jester want to growl and back up, hackles raised.

‘Weird. Doesn’t look like she wants to go with you.’

‘It matters little if the creature wants to go with me,’ they say, in the way someone might speak to a child. If that person were, you know, a villain. ‘I bought them, they are mine.’

‘Got some papers to prove that?’ Fjord asks, accent a deeply fake drawl once more. ‘Friend,’ he tacks on, unfriendly like.

‘Papers, of course. I have them in my shop, around the corner. If you come with me, we can sort this out with no drama necessary.’

It’s obvious it’s rubbing Fjord the wrong way, and Beau has a hand buried into the scruff of the hyena’s neck possessively, suspicion and upset rolling off her scent in waves.

It could all be fixed, Jester knows, by transforming back into herself—but doing so even in a private area of the market would risk too many eyes on them, could be taken as a threat.

She growls, deep in her throat. Feels Beau scratch reassuringly at her beck, behind one of her ears. Jester flicks that ear and hunches down, starts to step slowly back toward an alley. Beau’s hand tightens and then loosens and when Jester pulls mightily away, she sees with some amazement and pride that Beau pretends rather remarkably to be a clown and an annoyance, pretending very well to fall when Jester runs, and then tripping the fur-coated poacher, as Jester guesses him to be.

The sounds of an argument rise up loud behind her as she sprints away, and the magic strips from her bit by bit until she is an ordinary tiefling once more. For an instant, the world seems a little dull—her hearing dulled, her sense of smell a fraction of what it had been—and then she sees the blue sky and, returning to the street, the blue of Beau’s coat, and the green and purple in Fjord’s clothes, and is happy to realise she can see colours again.

With the hyena missing and nowhere to be found, Jester and Fjord are able to diffuse the argument—though none of them like the way the poacher looks at Beau like they’d like to take her in the hyena’s place, a human rarity—and they hurry her back to the quarters awarded them by the lady of Asarius, meeting with their friends who had returned not but ten minutes earlier. Fjord tells them all about their largely unproductive afternoon, ending with a fight over the hyena—

‘It was Jester,’ Beau tells him.

‘What?’

‘The hyena. It was Jester, right?’ She crooks a grin over to her. ‘I mean, the hyena disappears and Jester finds us a hot second later? Too much of a coincidence.’

Under Fjord’s surprised attention, Jester plucks at her skirts and curtsies, fakes a blush. ‘Oh well, you’re welcome, yes, it was me,’

‘Holy shit!’

‘I know, right?’

‘Holy cow!’

‘Yah. Yeah. My thoughts exactly,’ Beau and Fjord say to one another, and Jester can’t help but grin under the attention. If she notices—and she does—that Beau’s eyes remain focused on her for long after Fjord’s attention is recalled, she doesn’t make a comment on it just yet.

‘You did great today,’ Beau tells her later, as they climb the stairs to their room.

‘I mean,’ Jester laughs. ‘I got lost at first.’

‘Yeah but it all worked out so... you did great.’

‘I guess so! Sucks we couldn’t find out who is doing that plot thing the author totally is interested in.’

‘Yeah, we’ll definitely pick that up tomorrow so it’ll be fine, though.’

‘Right.’ Jester nods. ‘They can smell super good,’ she tells Beau. ‘Hyenas. I could smell, like, everything, it was pre-tty wild.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Mhm.’

‘That’s fuckin’ dope.’

‘I can turn you into one, if you want. I have one left.’

Beau’s eyes light up, but she shakes her head. ‘Another time. Maybe tomorrow, if we’re still hanging around the city. That’d be cool. Quick question, hopefully not weird—more of a comment than a question I guess but it wasn’t, like, weird that I was patting you, was it? Because I don’t want. To be weird.’

‘I mean, you’re being pretty weird now,’ Jester points out, because Beau isn’t quite stuttering but it sounds like she’s punching out the words through sheer force of will.

‘Okay, okay, fair,’

‘But I don’t mind. And didn’t mind.’

‘Okay.’

‘You’re still being weird, Beau,’

‘Yeah, it’s just because you’re like, super powerful and cool and brilliant and hyena’s are one of my favourite animals. Not that you knew that. It was like, one of those things where we had to research for hours in the archives when I was first starting out and I hated it but I read a whole compendium of animals from start to finish and now I’m rambling and,’

‘Is it because you’re covering for the fact that you called me cool and brilliant?’ Jester teases, and she isn’t sure what to do with herself when Beau grimaces and her cheeks burn with sudden colour. She doesn’t lie, or deny it. Which is. So so weird. And cool. And great, maybe. ‘I think you’re super powerful too,’ she blurts out, because she’s supposed to say something, and when Beau waves that away Jester frowns. ‘Really! And cool and so smart and you have beautiful hair and, and—‘

Oh Traveller, she remembers saying those words before, and the fluttering in her belly isn’t new but it is a lot more noticeable now. Beau laughs, smiles. Winks. Blows her a kiss, like she had that last time, obviously remembering the same moment. Jester flushes. Stammers for a second before pulling the door to their room open—stopping. Pushing the door to their room open.

#cr tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill

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usagi-zakura · 5 years

Text

This week on Adventurer’s League

Our regular DM was too busy so we had a substitute. So instead of doing Storm King’s Thunder we ran a Halloween-themed one-shot. (Which he plans to run again so if some of my followers are somehow PART of that group.. don’t read this post. It may contain spoilers.)

It was the usual crew, cuz no one really had time to create new characters (Well I techincally had my spare buuuuut I love Dott and I didn’t bring any spellcards for my spare, who’s a gnome wizard)

- My kobold ranger/rogue Dott and her pet wolf/horse Ttod.

- A tabaxi death cleric who may or may not be a cannibal.

- A tabaxi rogue.

- A human paladin.

- A human bard/fighter.

- A thiefling bard who acts more like a rogue.

And a new player on the table: an elven monk.

None of our bards are the stereotypical «flirt with everything»-bard, but that doesn’t mean they’re sensible human/halfdemon beings. None of our party members are... except maybe the paladin... and the monk. Don’t know much about her.

We were supposed to be ghost-catchers, heading towards a small village to investigate some strange happenings when we were attacked by a walking scarecrow and a large flock of ravens. (Whom the Cleric wanted to eat. She is a cat I suppose so its understandable.)

I was late to the session but came in just as they were fighting the scarecrow.

We managed to fight them off even though we were all on a runaway horse carriage (the horse got spooked by the scarecrow). Eventually we managed to calm down the horse as we reached the village only to be attacked by even more birds...

We ran inside some old lady’s house. She seemed very friendly, even offering us all hot cocoa (which the two tabaxi took as a murder attempt because cocoa is poison to cats).

The Thiefling Bard, paragon of virtue as she is, decided to put up a Leomund’s tiny hut on the lady’s front door... for no other reason than to block her inside the house I suppose.

We ended up taking a long rest, some of the party sleeping inside the old lady’s house, others in the tiny hut at her front door, but when we woke up the old lady was gone.

We heard some commotion outside and went to investigate, it turned out to be a witch trial, the old lady was the accused «witch» (In case you were wondering how she got out despite the Tiny Hut at her front door, there was a back door.)

Their reasons for thinking she was a witch was of course «she turned me into a newt!» and also the suspicious orb that showed up outside her house. (Thanks bard).

The Paladin wanted to try to help the old lady, and suggested using Zone of Truth... forgetting of course that Zone of truth is a spell, thus magic, thus the paladin is a witch too! But the thiefling bard managed to convince the villagers that she was actually a demigod, and they seemed to accept this.

The Paladin cast Zone of Truth (careful to keep the party outside it) but the old lady succeeded her saving throw... Then things went a bit crazy.

The Mayor suddenly slumped over dead, having been stabbed in the back, and two hags appeared, the old lady changed to her true form, she was also a hag. Surprise! They were the witches all along.

Then... the villagers all disappeared and we all found ourselves in a grey-scale version of the town were it was raining frogs, and the village was patrolled by a large frog-like monster covered in tentacles.

The bard figured out we were teleported into some kind of weird pocket dimension, but she told the rest of us we were probably all dead because again...she’s just so darn nice. And with a deception roll of 22 Dott belived her and immidiately panicked, since kobolds belive that if they die they get reincarnated within their clan...but she doesn’t have a clan, they all died... so no reincarnation for her...

After exploring the strange village we found a totem, as we moved closer so did the frog monster. Roll for initative.

It caught several of us in its tentacles, and even ended up eating poor Ttod, but we managed to bring it down. Dott immidiately cut the frog open to save her companion but it was too late...

The DM however didn’t want to basically take away half of Dott’s power as a BM ranger, so he became a ghost. So now we had a ghost-dog.

The Thiefling bard decided to shatter the totem, this immidiately got us sent back to the normal village, where the villagers were still panicing over the sudden death of their mayor and the three hags (who had of course escaped by now).

When we offered to help defeat the hags they told us to go pick up some weapons at at the graveyard, and also explore the basement of their previous herbalist who had apparently been killed by one of the witches.

We went to the basement first, and were attacked by a jar of hands, an undead brain in a jar and a mimic table.

Also the bard got a hold of a fireball wand to Dott’s great displeasure (she has a bad history with fire) and basically burned the whole room down.

Somehow we all made it out alive, and moved on to the graveyard where we had to fight a banshee...she knocked out several of us, including Dott, leading to the first time ever that Dott got knocked out and Ttod wasn’t (given that Ttod has only 27 HP at level 6 that was kinda impressive...)

The paladin was able to bring us back up however and we defeated the banshee.

Next up we went to the pumpkin patch, apparently the witches had been seen around the area.

We saw a zombie in the distance, the thiefling bard just threw a fireball at it and killed it instantly... and then we were attacked by a giant pumpkin. Killed that one too.

We then found the witches’ house. The bard threw a fireball at it. Sadly this did not instakill the witches... they just flew out of the burning house on their broomsticks.

During the following fight Ttod ran around on the ground barking because he couldn’t reach them (despite being a ghost dog the DM would not allow him to fly).

The thiefling bard decided to polymorph herself into a giant ape! But was immiditaly polymorphed again into a sheep... Another character (I think it was the other bard or the tabaxi rogue) decided to shoot the sheep so she could turn back into the ape.

The paladin also tried to throw one of the witches off her broom by using Misty Step, she managed to get ON the broom, but failed to get the witch off.

One of the other witches tried to save her sister by dragging her of the broom (she was badly injured from the fight at this point) but this promted an attack of oppurtunity from everyone within melee range (so the paladin, Ttod and the tabaxi rogue) and she was promptly killed.

This our adventure ended, the other witches got away but their coven was basically ruined at this point, so we considered it a win.

TLDR:

Our thiefling bard is an asshole, Dott nearly died from fright but got herself a ghost-dog, we fought a table and the bard got double-polymorphed.

(PS when I call the bard an asshole, I mean the character is an asshole. The player is just fine in my eyes. Most of us just play morally dubious characters. Because its funny. I love this misfit group, its my favorite to play in out of the three campaings I’m currently in.)

#dnd #adventurer's league #dott

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kgables · 5 years

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The Boy and the Stone

“What’s this?” The boy asked, making it the fourteenth time the question had been posed since being dropped off by his father. Eighteen minutes, forty-five seconds until Lord Xanatos concludes his meeting, Kristian Gables told himself, glancing at the simple clock ticking away on the corner of his desk. The human caught his reflection in the polished glass protecting the clock face; the lines and creases framing in his grey whiskers seemed to have deepened since he last looked. Kristian set down his pen, abandoning the accounting figures laid out before him once again, and swiveled about on his stool, looking over at whatever had caught the lordling’s interest this time. While Kristian kept his compact office particularly sparse and tidy, Kazryl always seemed to find something new to question him about with each visit. In this instance, the lad had gotten into the drawers lining the bottom of his bookshelf.

“That would be a sextant, Lord Kazryl,” he told the young blood elf, who busied himself flexing the small metallic arm of the device and turning its knobs. The child had inherited his father’s black hair and olive complexion, but his build came from his mother. Only just barely turned four, Kazryl was already sprouting up like a reed, and the pudgy fat he’d been born with had long since melted away. I’ll need to order more textile samples for Lady Elde’en, Kristian noted, catching a glimpse of an ankle beneath the rising hem of the child’s trousers.

As head steward of House Xanatos, Kristian had a hand in every aspect of the family’s life. Forty-six years he’d served his master, Althir Xanatos, taken in by the lord when he was little older than the boy he watched now. Aside from the decade spent on his schooling, and a brief rebellious streak where he’d struck out on his own, Althir had been a constant. Then six years ago, Althir had married the Lady Elde’en Mornfire, and sired Kazryl only two later. Lady Telen’di Mornfire was the most recent addition to the family, niece of Elde’en, who became Althir’s second wife only in the last year. To most, caring for the needs of a family of three might not seem that burdensome, but then again they were elves, and nobility at that. Their whims were as turbulent as the winds in a maelstrom. When Althir had awarded Kristian with the steward’s title shortly after Kazryl’s birth, Kristian’s responsibilities had grown sevenfold. Most recently, as Althir had begun to introduce his son to the primary family business, a successful sea trade, those responsibilities had expanded to… babysitter.

“It is one of the tools your father’s sailors use to navigate the seas,” the steward continued, hoping to forego the impending ‘What’s it do’, “It measures the distance between two objects, typically celestial bodies- that is, the sun and the stars, which in turn helps the sailors form calculations on their position.” This answer put a confused look on the boy’s face, as Kristian knew it would. “Sex-tint,” Kazyrl repeated, thin lips trying to form the word.

“Sex-tant, Lord Kazyrl,” Kristian corrected, confident that he had styimed the child for at least another minute, perhaps even two. Turning back to his open ledger, he had only just picked up his stylus when Kazryl joined him at his side, navigation tool still in his tiny hands. Kristian detested children; they were loud, needy, and most of all irritating. How is a man to accomplish anything, when he can’t form two thoughts before being accosted? He groused, suppressing an annoyed sigh.The steward was about to order the boy to return the sextant to its place, when Kazryl surprised him.

“I want to help An’da,” Kazryl piped, his brow knit in stubborn certainty, holding up the tool, “Teach?”

“Father,” Kristian corrected immediately, fulfilling his role as practice partner for the lad’s common. He studied the child, searching Kazry’s diminutive features for any hint of his usual mischievousness. The boy was immensely gifted in the arcane arts, a natural born talent, and often put those talents to use jinxing Kristian- usually in the presence of his indulgent mother. Kazryl had even once managed to polymorph the steward into a cat, all without any instruction. Still, the boy seemed earnest.

“Father. I want to help father,” Kazryl tried again, looking only all the more certain for it, “Please teach?”

Curiosity piqued, Kristian turned towards the young lord, holding the pen between his leathery hands, “Why do you want to help your father?”

“He works -all- day. All night, too, sometimes! Min-” the boy paused, catching himself mid-sentence, “Mother is sad when she’s alone. I can tell. And auntie Dia said that he works too hard, and that’s bad for him. I can help! Mother says two can get more done than one.” He nodded knowingly at that.

The child was not wrong. Kristian was not sure the lad understood the source of his mother’s melancholy, but it clung to the woman like a cloak, wherever she carried herself. It was also true that Althir had been working himself to the bone, even prior to their move from Dalaran to Suramar. The move had certainly not made things any easier for the Lord; the city’s nobility had a stranglehold on trade, and as an outsider, Althir’s own title just barely managed to get him in the door with the least influential of Suramar’s elite. The elf spent countless hours wheedling the slimmest of margins, and any headway he gained was fought for tooth and nail. One thing Kristian was sure of, was that if Althir’s wives knew the extent to which their husband was spreading himself, his own job would become that much more complicated.

Kristian was also confident that despite Kazryl’s bright mind, it was still a long way off from understanding the complexities of geometry and star charts. Even so, the lad’s determination was admirable. “If you want to learn how to help your-” Kristian cut himself off, suddenly alert. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight, and even though the old steward was no practitioner himself, in his years he had come to recognize the telltale signs of impending spellwork. In an instant Kristian was off the stool and wrapping himself around Kazryl, snugging the boy tight to his chest.

“What-” the boy started to exclaim indignantly, only to be harshly silenced by the man, “Quiet!”

Not a second later something heavy crashed through the window near the door and thudded against the bookshelf, displacing several volumes that each thudded to the floor. Not a bolt, grenade? I’m already dead if so. Kristian stuffed Kazryl beneath his desk, blocking the footwell with his body as he scanned the room, eyes searching quickly. He spotted the projectile a moment later- a large, smooth stone with script painted across its face. Behind him, Kazryl started to wail for his mother. “Quiet, boy!”

To the lad’s credit, he restrained himself to a snivelling whimper as Kristian ghosted across the room, keeping low and out of sight. Snatching up one of the shards of shattered glass along the way, he posted himself near the broken window and held up the shard, using it as a mirror to peer outside. Unhappy clients? Competitors? Possibilities ran through the stewards head as he tilted the piece of glass, panning his view from left to right. He spotted the culprits quickly. A trio of young Nightborne stood at the far end of the wharf, and although their distance and position should have made the throw impossible, Kristian knew it was them. Particularly the tall one in the middle, whose confident sneer and impeccably styled garb marked him as high nobility. Worse.

With a sneer of his own, Kristian set down the shard and stood, straightening his coat. They’d had their fun, and without provoking any response, would carry themselves off to find more receptive entertainment. Kristian surveyed the damage as he crossed the room and returned to his desk, pulling aside his stool. He squatted down before the huddled lordling, who looked terribly frightened and confused. Reaching under the desk, Kristian dragged the boy out from his refuge and hauled him to his feet. “On your feet, my Lord,” the steward told him, pulling a clean rag from his pocket to wipe away the boy’s tears. “I want min’da!” Kazryl whined, still shaking like a twig.

“I reckon you do,” Kristian sighed, brushing Kazryl’s hair back into some semblance of order, “But you wanted to help your father, didn’t you?” He waited for an affirmative nod before continuing, “Some mean people just tried to play a joke on your father. If he finds out, it will ruin his day.” Five minutes, ten seconds. “We need to put things back in order, like nothing happened.” Rising up, Kristian led the child over to the broken window, hand on his shoulder. “Can you fix this? Make it just like new?”

Kazryl looked between the steward and the shattered glass, a sniffle twitching his little nose. “An’da won’t get mad if he doesn’t find out,” he nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve, “And Min’da won’t let me come back. Auntie Dia says you’re boring. I think you’re smart. But what about the mean people?”

Kristian watched for a moment as the lordling lifted his arms. The glass rose from the wooden floor with the movement, and one by one, the shards fit back into place, like pieces of a puzzle. Kazryl’s intuition impressed the man, who nodded and turned back to the fallen books. Perhaps not all children were leeches. He palmed the painted stone before slotting the last tome back into place, and glanced at the Shalassian scribed across its surface. Go back to your own kind, thinbloods.

“Kristian?”

“Not to worry, Lord Kazryl,” Kristian replied, hiding the stone away in a drawer and nodding his approval at the mended window, “I’ll handle everything.”

@telendi @xanatosrising @anaralar

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