Category: D&D

  • Orianna’s Prelude

    (Story word count: approximately 5500 words. Estimated reading time: 55 minutes. CW: relationship breakdown, limb severing)

    “So three… two… one… open your eyes!”

    “So what is–A HOUSE?! A HOUSE IN GAUNTLGRYM?!”

    “Yup! Took a lot of my winnings to buy but it should be the perfect place to settle down!”

    “Oh my god, I love Dwarven architecture. This place is perfect Orianna. I love you.”

    “Love you too Eirina.”

    *****

    Evening had descended across the town. Traders and adventurers poured into taverns to celebrate a good day’s work, looking to relax in good company and maybe hear a few stories along the way.

    For some though, the setting of the sun meant chasing even greater thrills. Whilst some taverns served drinks, others served up excitement in the form of fighting pits, giving patrons something to watch and/or bet on. In particular, Raucous Rylie’s Riotous Rumble was extremely busy tonight, with a steady stream of spectators and competitors walking through the doors.

    There were the usual adventurer-types that were looking to quickly find some gold to buy new weapons and gear, amateur fighters looking to establish a style or gimmick in the hope it wins them fights and followers, and experienced past champions, looking to crush all beneath them for the chance of holding the winner’s trophy aloft once more.

    As evening turned to night, more and more competitors were eliminated until only four remained. A heavily armoured fighter looking to exhaust their opponents through superior defence, before landing brutal blows. An experienced craftsman looking to beguile opponents with their bespoke weaponry, aiming to catch them off guard through sheer surprise. A cleric aiming to spread their divine word through the glory of battle, with a side goal investing all winnings back to their temple.

    And finally, there was an elegantly dressed young lady, named Orianna du Fior.

    *****

    “So, why did you pick the name you did? Don’t think I ever asked.”

    “Well I wanted my new name to be something elegant something feminine y’know so I thought about it for a while and Orianna just kind of spoke to me.”

    “That’s pretty straightforward, but why the du Fior part? Aren’t you worried about being mistaken for a noble?”

    “That was a concern initially but I wanted to pick something that was truly mine and picking something with a hint of fanciness to it made me feel like myself for the first time in forever.”

    “…how do you talk so much without breathing? It’s both concerning and adorable.”

    *****

    Orianna was most certainly the anomaly in this line up, as even the cleric and the craftsman were wearing significantly stronger armour than herself. Her armour was definitely sturdy and offered a modest amount of protection, but it seemed as if she had put more emphasis on her outfit than anything else.

    A light green blouse with full, puffed sleeves ending in elegant cuffs with gold detailing laid underneath a darker green dress with apron-style straps, hands covered by soft leather gloves, more for form rather than function. The bodice of the dress was corseted with solid brown laces, two brown panels either side of the bodice providing contrast whilst also building up the forest colour palette. 

    This bodice then extended into an A-line skirt enhanced by a massive, multi-layered petticoat, poofing out in all directions. The skirt was solid green, with gold detailing in the style of elven branches looping all around the hem, which was trimmed in brown velvet.

    Beneath the skirt, Orianna’s legs were encased in light green tights matching her blouse leading down to what many considered impractical footwear for fighting, but for Orianna she would rather be seen dead than without a pair of high heels on. An elegant pair of four inch beige stilettos with anklets themed after roses wrapped delicately above.

    Adorning her shoulders was her prized magical cloak. Fashioned after a capelet, the item also bore a minor colour-shifting enchantment that allowed her to wear it with whatever outfit and the hue would shift accordingly to be in perfect coordination with the rest of her attire. 

    Some participants throughout the evening had put on war paint in an attempt to look intimidating, and whilst Orianna would call her extensive makeup routine something similar as a jest, the kind of makeup used only served to further disarm opponents. Orianna’s face was beauty incarnate: perfectly blended foundation, delicately pink painted lips, inky black mascara complimented by reddish violet eyeshadow. 

    Vibrant orange hair was tied into two lightly curled pigtails, a dark green bow with gold accents adorning each one, side-swept bangs brushing lightly above glistening emerald eyes full of anticipation and excitement.

    *****

    “So you make all your money via fighting pits? Doesn’t that seem… kind of dangerous?”

    “Well it kind of is but kind of isn’t cause you see I didn’t really have much I was good at growing up except when I got taught duelling that was the only real thing I could focus on for any period of time so it just kind of extended into a love of fighting.”

    “Well, you won’t have to do it so much anymore. I can help out with keeping this place stocked.”

    “Alright but I still kind of want to do it you don’t build up a collection of awesome ass weapons without wanting to show them off.”

    “Just, please don’t overdo it. You mean a lot to me Ori.”

    “You mean the absolute world to me Rina.”

    *****

    Outside of the waiting room the four remaining competitors were sitting in, Raucous Rylie, as she was known, was warming up the crowd. Being a tiefling, she was able to amplify her voice greatly, making her the perfect emcee for such an event. 

    “What’s up chucklefucks?!”, she said with volume and gusto from her podium, wearing a fine dress shirt complimented by a tailored waistcoat, “we have only four remaining in the competition tonight and I hope you’ve all got your bets in because they are now closed!”. Some groans emanated from the audience as they realised their window of opportunity had passed them by.

    “Tonight’s final will be done king of the hill style, with the top two contestants from the feeder series forming the first match. With that, please give it up for the cunning craftsman, Dimitri Powderkeg!”

    There was a distinctly Dwarven chorus of cheers as they entered into the pit, wearing robust half-plate, but their armour was not the main event. The focus of their loadout were their interesting weapons, ranging from a crossbow enhanced with an automatic loading mechanism and a war axe modified to have a shoving edge designed to knock opponents over.

    “And a usual face round these parts, you all know her, you all love her, please give it up for the beautiful brawler, Orianna du Fior!”

    Whilst the dwarves were specifically cheering for Dimitri, everyone seemed to cheer for Orianna, who came skipping out of the waiting room before twirling and giving a light curtsy to her opponent, drawing her two elven rapiers and standing at first position pointing her weapons downwards.

    “Alright you two, you know the rules and so do I,” Rylie said, “the first one to be knocked unconscious is the loser. And don’t worry, when I declare the victor I’ll get a healing word in at the same time.”

    “You ready?!”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Dimitri instantly reached for his automatic crossbow and took aim down elaborate iron sights at Orianna, though once he saw his opponent was still standing in a straight-legged stance, he lowered his weapon with a quizzical expression. “Ey, lassie!”, he said, adopting a tone of both confusion and concern, “you did hear the tiefling right? We can start fighting!”

    “Oh I know but I just wanna see what you’re capable of first so go ahead give me your best shot!”, Orianna said, smiling sweetly at her opponent and bouncing around gently on her heels. 

    Still confused, but not one to disregard an advantage, the dwarf smirked before looking down the sights once more. “Alright, but be warned,” he said with confidence, “you heard the might of the dwarves behind me, and I will bring all of that might down on you!”

    With a pull of the trigger, the custom firing mechanism within the crossbow whirred into life and let loose a torrent of bolts towards Orianna, several sharp-tipped projectiles approaching at high speed. Dimitri had aimed true, and felt sure they would hit their mark… that was until Orianna effortlessly parried all of them with her swords.

    “Aww that’s cute I almost got hit there!”, she said in a gleeful tone. “Now let me show you what I’m capable of!”. Unfazed by the offensive capabilities of her opponent, Orianna skipped forward, effortless on her heels across the dusty surface of the pit. The dwarf was surprised, no one had the reaction speeds to deflect a full onslaught, but coming into melee was not a wise decision either.

    Stowing their crossbow and instead brandishing their custom axe, he stood at the ready with the shoving side, aiming to force his opponent prone in order to quickly dispatch them. Though Orianna’s actions continued to confuse him, as she was not raising her weapons, still skipping forward.

    Wary but prepared for the worst, Dimitri pushed forward with all his force, yelling with the ferocity of a mountain landslide only for Orianna to effortlessly sidestep past him without even blinking. “How sweet you thought that would work!”, Orianna said, giggling as she looped behind her opponent, “but now you can see what I can do!”.

    And before he had time to react to yet another taunt, Dimitri felt several sharp points digging into his back, a rapid series of blows from elegant weapons being methodically stabbed through the weak points of his armour, weakening him significantly.

    Caught off guard by the sheer agility of the beautiful fighter before him, a change of tactics was needed. If she was too quick to be knocked over, then depriving her of her weapons might be a viable option, such a move needed the right moment though, moments there were quickly fading due to how many blows Orianna had successfully landed whilst Dimitri had not landed any.

    Soon a window opened very briefly whilst Orianna repositioned herself, and the dwarf launched forward with a hook on the pommel of his impressive axe, managing to latch onto the ornate hilt of each sword and throwing it to the ground. Orianna was quick but her physical strength was somewhat lacking.

    “You let your guard down girlie,” Dimitri said, finally getting his own opportunity to taunt, “won’t get far without your weapons.”

    “Well not those ones,” Orianna said, ruffling her skirt gently, “but I still got some of these stashed away!”. And with that Orianna drew bladed playing cards from within hidden pockets in her skirt, tossing them at Dimitri with a rapid pace. 

    The first two cards bounced ineffectively off his armour, leading the dwarf to believe he had got the upper hand, but once he attempted to charge forward, a final card thrown flew at just the right angle to let the edge of the card slash his throat wide open. He stood aghast for a moment as blood began to pour from his neck before collapsing to the ground, gasps of the audience barely being heard off a bell ringing.

    “And with that gnarly and bloody display,” Rylie said, a wave of healing energy rushing over Dimitri as she spoke, “Orianna du Fior wins her first match in spectacular style!”. The crowd burst into cheers and applause, Orianna’s reputation as a skilled fighter being on full display tonight.

    *****

    “And where have you been?”

    “Sorry sorry sorry I wasn’t expecting the pit to go this late tonight I know we said we’d have date night but the finals dragged on longer than I was expecting due to some wizards spending all their time deliberating.”

    “You could have left early? I got us a fancy bottle of wine and your favourite cake just for tonight…”

    “I mean yes but I still managed to win! Look at this new trophy for my cabinet and it came with this decent sack of platinum too so I can make it up with another date later!”

    “Yeah, that’s… that’s nice Ori. Would have been nice to have the effort tonight to mean something though. Still, we can share the cake I suppose.

    “Yay! Oh I love you so much Eirina you’re too good to me.”

    “Yeah, love you too.”

    *****

    Neck wound now fully closed, Dimitri stood up and walked over to Orianna, eyes wide in disbelief. “I thought my craft was at its peak,” he said, sounding somewhat dejected, “guess I still have a lot to learn…”

    He went to leave the pit before getting tapped on the shoulder by Orianna, and before he could react after turning around, she had pulled him into a hug. “Your craft is excellent don’t be sad!”, she said, “if you have a shop I’d love to get some weapons made by you someday!”.

    The dwarf smiled and said, “Aye, that’d be grand. I’ll get an address written up for you,” before leaving through the adjoining waiting room and joining the dwarves who had cheered him on above, toasting a good effort against a very worthy opponent.

    “We’ll be taking a quick ten minute interlude,” Rylie said, pointing in two opposite directions, “you’ll want to get your drinks in now, next fight is set to be lit as all hell so you do not want to miss this!”

    Orianna grabbed her swords off of the ground and sauntered back over to the waiting room, where a cleric just shrugged their shoulders at her due to the lack of wounds sustained, instead offering her some refreshments.

    *****

    “I was wondering when you wou-Nine Hells what has happened to you?!”

    “Oh I’m fine Eirina there’s just a few holes in my tights a little bit of lacework gone from my dress and a compound fracture on my right arm.”

    “And you walked home like this?! What if you had got ambushed?! I thought these places had healers around for things like this!”

    “Oh this one did but the bloke looked a bit dodgy and I knew you’d be here and I trust you more anyway so help me please?”

    “Fine, I suppose. Can’t sleep with someone when their bone is threatening to take my eye out.”

    “Love you lots Eirina!”

    “Love you too, damned fool.”

    *****

    Interlude complete, Rylie took her stand on her podium once more, now wielding a very large and fruity looking cocktail, somehow not spilling a drop despite her animated movements. “A fight pit pairing you all know and love is up next,” Rylie said, “speed versus strength, defense versus dexterity, beautiful to the girls versus beautiful to the guys. Who is who in that last one? That’s up to you to decide!”.

    “Give a raucous welcome back to the pit for Zehalak Steelbender!”.

    Quiet gasps and muttering spread as a towering firbolg entered into the arena through the side door, needing to duck down in order to get through. From head to toe they were encased in extremely high quality plate armour, very few gaps in protection showing to the average eye. But this was not where average eyes were looking, instead they were focused on the gigantic weapon now in play.

    Whilst metal had provided the protection, it was nature that would provide the offense. The weapon bore similarities to a maul, with a large, fortified branch acting as the handle. This led into what was a massive segment of a tree trunk that had been sawed roughly at both ends, making it an unwieldy to use weapon, but dangerous if it managed to hit.

    “And returning once more to try and take the top prize tonight, Orianna du Fior!”

    The crowd returned to loud cheering and clapping as the girl skipped back into the arena, looking up at her opponent with a grin. “Hi Zelly!”, she said, greeting this towering fighter with a surprisingly childish nickname, “hope you’re all ready and fired up cause you still haven’t beaten me properly yet!”

    What little of Zehalak’s face was on show betrayed his imposing image as he returned the smile to Orianna and saying, “I still beat you once little sproutling, it was just we both got our asses handed to us.”

    “Can catch up some other time you two,” Rylie said, interrupting the brief exchange the two were having, “you’ve been around this circuit enough and been around here to know the deal, so I’m just gonna do the count, alright?”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Unlike her fight with Dimitri, Orianna took no time at all to get going. She started moving rapidly, darting back and forth between her opponent whilst circling them, her eyes analysing for any weakness or gap in the armour.

    Zehalak on the other hand knew he did not have to use such tactics and instead began swinging with his mighty weapon, the size of which meant he could not attack with great frequency, as he needed to realign himself after each mighty swing impacted into the ground or missed.

    This happened quite frequently, as whilst Orianna could not match in terms of armour, her speed and agility made up for it. She was able to effortlessly dodge out of the way of attacks before returning fire with a riposte, some bouncing effortlessly off the plate armour, but some managing to get a hit in through the smallest windows of opportunity.

    The brawl continued like this for some time, almost turning into an aggressive dance of sorts. Both opponents took turns to lead the other in the hope of landing the perfect attack. Eventually though, a brief lapse in focus for Orianna allowed Zehalak to land his trunk maul squarely onto Orianna’s torso, impacting into her hard and sending her flying into the wall.

    Her reactions came back to her quickly as she fell down, landing on one foot with her opposite knee bent down. What little armour she wore had protected her from any major damage, but she was severely winded and most definitely still feeling some pain from that blow. She also knew her opponent would not be waiting around, and so took time to formulate a plan of attack as she caught her breath.

    Seeing his attack was successful, the firbolg took two steps back before launching into a charge, wielding his mighty weapon ready for an attack, but he hoped his momentum slamming into Orianna would be enough to finish her off.

    This charge was exactly the moment Orianna needed, and with a second wind brewing after her momentary break she knew exactly what to do. With Zehalak rapidly closing in, she gripped her weapons tight and stared dead ahead. Still kneeling, she waited for the ideal moment to strike, which came in the exact second she was about to get rammed into.

    Time seemed to almost slow down for the two of them as Orianna used her expert dexterity and smaller stature to slide herself between Zehalak’s legs, stabbing both of her rapiers into the popliteus tendons, an extremely vulnerable area on the back of the knee unprotected by armour. This sent Zehalak stumbling to the ground hard, plate clattering against plate as they slid across the surface of the pit.

    Orianna strutted over to her now nonambulatory opponent and went to swiftly end the battle with a quick stab to the side to render him unconscious.

    “I yield.”

    With those words Orianna’s blade stopped mere millimetres away from piercing even more of the firbolg’s flesh, demonstrating absolute control over her weaponry. “Speed won out, but that play also required serious smarts. Orianna du Fior wins her second match!”, Rylie declared, as healing magic washed over Zehalak.

    “Oh my gosh Zelly are you okay I’m sorry that was the best move I had in mind I hope I didn’t hurt you too much?”, Orianna said, going over to check on her acquaintance.

    “It hurt like hell sproutling,” Zehalak grunted, bringing themselves back to their feet and patting Orianna on the head gently, “and that’s why you deserved to win. You used your smarts and overcame my strategy.”

    “Next time I’ll get you! And that’s a promise!”

    Finishing off her cocktail, Rylie continued on with proceedings, and said, “We only have one fight left tonight, and it is going to be a good one! Ten minutes once more to get the next round of drinks in before the grand finale!”

    *****

    “She’s covered in blood again. Why does she always come home covered in blood?”

    “Eiriiiinnnnaaaaa I loooovvveeee yoooouuuuu!”

    “Great. You are both covered in blood and drunk out of your mind. Do you have any idea how worried I have been?”

    “It’s fiiinnneee I still won and I wasn’t out too late!”

    “You were gone all night! Did you go to a pit a day’s travel away?”

    “Bit of a trek but it was worth it god those people drink some strong stuff.”

    “You’re never going to change are you? You’re always going to put what you love before who you love, aren’t you?”

    “I loovee you Eirina…”

    “That gives me an answer then.”

    *****

    “One fight. A chance for one to take it all.”, Rylie said, carrying a somehow larger and fruitier cocktail than the one she had last round. “Welcome back to the pit the multiple Riotous Rumble champion – Orianna du Fior!”

    Pirouetting her way onto the field, Orianna was met with thunderous applause from the crowd. Dimitri and his band of dwarves cheered loudly for her, and Zehalak clapped softly from the sidelines, now wearing much more comfortable clothing.

    “And now give a riotous welcome to a new face around these parts. They proved their divine power in the preceding rounds, but will the heavens have their back tonight? Entering now – Tarquin Palmerston!”

    The cheers and clapping were quieter as this refined individual made their way into the arena. They carried themselves with an air of superiority, as if his work made him better than anyone he would face. He wore fine robes, befitting of his position, the silk seeming to glisten in what minimal light there was, a breastplate adorned with the symbol of his god secured tightly around his chest, a similar sigil was displayed on his shield.

    What concerned Orianna was that he came in carrying only a dagger, and in her experience in fighting the faithful, they did not tend to deal in concealing their weapons. “Oh crap they’re a magic user,” Orianna thought to herself, “this is going to be difficult but I can make it work I have made this work in the past.”

    “This is a tough challenge upcoming, but that is only going to make the entertainment greater! Are you ready?”

    “THREE!”

    “TWO!”

    “ONE!”

    “LET’S GET A RAUCOUS RIOT GOING!”

    Knowing she needed to move quickly, but also very wary of what could be in store for her, Orianna advanced with both rapiers drawn and tried to quickly analyse her opponent’s weak spots. He needed his hands to cast spells, and his arms were left exposed by the breastplate, that was where she needed to strike.

    But as she drew back ready to lunge, a sudden malaise came over her. Everything felt sluggish and generally not right. “I uh huh,” Orianna said, speaking quickly even whilst disoriented, “what are you doing to me?”

    Tarquin smirked as he remained unmoved. “A simple curse spell my dear,” he said, his voice laced with condescension, “brutes such as yourself usually fumble when subjected to it.”

    The taunt mildly enraged Orianna, and she attempted to launch into a flurry of attacks. Due to the curse though, her strikes were no longer the pinpoint accurate stabs she had done before. They were sluggish, sloppy, imprecise. Some managed to land, although all they did was leave surface level cuts on the skin.

    “Pathetic,” Tarquin said, his words closing up his wounds as he stepped back, “I thought you were the best around these parts? Is this the best a legendary fighter can do?”

    “You are really starting to make me mad you not very nice so and so!”, Orianna said, trying her hardest to shake off the curse, but her mind was scattered at the best of times, and trying to align it to reinforce her mental defenses was proving difficult. Nonetheless she still tried attacking the cleric, landing blows which were quickly healed off with more snide comments.

    Eventually, Tarquin yawned, saying, “Alright, let me see what you can do,” and ended the curse. Feeling her energy and hyperactivity return, Orianna began an assault with her two trusted blades, starting up the combo of alternating stabs, finally feeling confident in this fight as her opponent started to take more visible damage.

    Until suddenly she could not move at all, her body seemingly suspended in time. “Ugh, how drab,” Tarquin said, walking around his paralysed prey, “a legendary fighter with only two moves, stab and more stab.”

    He healed off whatever wounds Orianna had to managed inflict as he circled back around to her front, holding out both hands and beginning to channel divine energy into them. “Witness the power of those above!”, he said, before the divine force pushed against and wrapped around Orianna, throwing her to the ground and leaving her severely bloodied, swords thrown to either side of her.

    Members of the crowd gasped in shock and awe that such a fighter could be taken down to the ground. She was not out though, barely holding onto consciousness on the floor as Tarquin walked over to her, drawing his dagger.

    “So sweet, so full of life,” he said, with a lamentable tone, “and yet, not knowing the fulfilment and joy that comes with being loved by something, or someone, greater than yourself.”

    “Love…”, Orianna said to herself, as one of tonight’s roughest memories came back to her mind.

    *****

    “Hey Eirina I’m home! I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend lately due to staying out late shunting the responsibility of healing me onto you and coming home drunk but have I got a surprise for you!”

    “I went to the market and got everything to make your favourite food I’ve got that wine you’re always going on about that you love and I had a special dragonchess set made custom to you and what you love!”

    “…Eirina? Are you home? Oh I know you may be sleeping off the events of last cause I kept you up quite a bit.”

    “Huh weird she’s not in here either… oh there’s a letter on the bed and it’s from Eirina!”

    “Let’s see what she wants to tell… me…”

    “…oh…”

    “…I mean, like, I get it, but…”

    “…damnit Orianna, why did you have to push her away too?”

    “Gah, who’s open tonight… oh sweet Rylie is hosting tonight, fighting at her place should help me get my head clear.”

    *****

    “No matter,” Tarquin said, raising his dagger up, “magic brought you down, but my blade shall seal my supreme victory!”. With that he brought it back down with speed, intending to finish Orianna off. That did not happen, as Orianna parried his dagger with one of her own she had hidden on her person. It was expertly crafted, with a curved blade, almost reminiscent of a blade an assassin would use.

    Pulling herself to her feet to the exclamations of surprise of the crowd, Rylie, and even Tarquin, who said, “Hm, no matter, you are still down a weapon and in bad shape.”

    In response, Orianna pulled out an identical blade seemingly out of nowhere, or at the least no one was able to see where it was pulled from before it rested at her side. “You’re not the only one with hidden tricks,” Orianna said, “I’m going to enjoy this one.”

    Tarquin huffed, and began to prepare another curse to hinder Orianna. She knew what was coming though, and did not allow him the time. Opening with a quick slice precisely along the wrist of her opponent, the spell dissipated as the pain took hold, followed by a diagonal slash against the lips to make it so getting out the words needed to heal was more difficult.

    No time was left for Tarquin to even feel fear, as once Orianna had ensured no spells would interrupt her barrage, she began repeated, focused, precise attacks against the left elbow of her opponent. 

    The first hit completely shredded his robes and left a deep gash on top of that.

    The second hit right to the joint, exposing the space between the bones

    The third and final hit cleaved effortlessly through that space, severing the arm and rendering Tarquin unconscious.

    Silence fell amongst the crowd, aside from Rylie snapping her fingers down to the side to get some extra healers into the pit, carrying out both Tarquin and his amputated appendage, hoping to stabilise him and reattach the arm without too many complications.

    “Well,” Rylie said, sounding almost out of breath, “it ended in a more brutal way than I expected, but it also proved why she’s the best around these parts. Friends and foes, give it up for tonight’s champion, ORIANNA DU FIOR!”

    Cheers and applause rippled across the crowd as Orianna was helped out of the pit by another healer, gently tending to her wounds as she was brought up to Rylie, who was holding a trophy, the champion’s purse, and a sizable bottle of white wine.

    “Was worried there for a moment sweetie,” Rylie said, rubbing Orianna’s arm gently, “it really looked like he was going to take you out.”

    Orianna flushed red as this gorgeous tiefling fussed over her in a caring manner, struggling to get her words out as she said, “I… uh… bah… rah… wah… yeah… I h-hope he isn’t too hurt…”

    “Ehh, I wouldn’t worry about it. My healers are some of the best, plus a twat like that kind of deserved a beatdown. Had no right to taunt you that personally.”

    “Yeah that is sort of true he was kind of being a butt.”

    “I know you’ll likely wanna go home, but my sister Kylie is hosting a late one tonight if you wanna join me over there, maybe even get a few extra rounds in?”

    “I think it is most definitely home time for me I kind of wanna get a very long nap in.”

    “Cannot argue with that one,” Rylie said, leaning in to give Orianna a quick kiss on the cheek, “stay beautiful princess!”

    Rylie left the winnings at Orianna’s feet, smirking to herself as she heard the panicked, high-pitched noises of someone struggling to process that a cute girl just kissed them. Eventually though, she calmed down, picked up her prizes and left into the tranquility of the night to walk home.

    “Going to Kylie’s would have been fun but given everything that’s happened tonight… I’m really not in the headspace,” Orianna said as she walked slowly through the streets, feeling a reluctance to go back to a place which contained so many complex emotions right now: shattered memories, painful new perspectives, and better times now lost forever.

    She sighed deeply before continuing on her journey, before being stopped by a slightly tattered piece of parchment getting caught on her heel. “Oh gross gross gross!”, she exclaimed loudly as she put down her winnings to remove it, though she took pause once she saw the royal sigil of Bruenor Battlehammer on it.

    “King Bruenor Battlehammer… expedition into the Underdark… representatives from the-please get to the point this is so incredibly hard to read-ooo adventurers are required to take part in a trial that ranks their combat capability. That sounds like a lot of fun actually and all this Underdark stuff would give me a chance to get out of the house and think things through away from it all!”

    Picking her winnings back up, Orianna had a rejuvenated skip in her step. There was so much to consider, what weapons to bring along, what set of armour to use, what kind of outfit looks best in darker environments. She had an emotional minefield to navigate within her mind, but at least she could do it away from where it all happened and poke a lot of holes into demons for good measure.

    Inspiration

    So first off, this is tied for my longest work of fiction, Marieya’s Torment and this both clock in around the 5500 word mark. Though Torment could potentially end up longer as I do want to revisit that piece and bring it up to the standards I work to today… and fix the fact it was mostly written at 2am but that is a tangent of a tangent.

    This piece serves as the introduction to Orianna du Fior, one of my more recent characters created for the second half of an Out of the Abyss game. Mechanically, Orianna is ridiculous, which I do want to go into at some point but that will likely be its own piece focusing on how she is put together.

    In terms of character though, Orianna is a character who I designed to be both trans and lesbian from the outset. The trans aspect is covered briefly in the second flashback between her and her partner, asking how her name came about, whilst the lesbian aspect was highlighted when Rylie gave her a brief kiss.

    And believe me, “panicked high-pitched noises” is the simplest way I could think of to describe the utterly insane vocalisation I produce when roleplaying as Orianna and she gets flustered by something.

    A distinct character trait of Orianna you might have already picked up on is the fast she is a fast talker, and this is reflected in her dialogue. The main way this is conveyed is by the noticeable lack of commas present in anything she says, leading to her sentences flowing as one long block of text.

    Yes this is exhausting to roleplay especially as I am also having to come up with what she is saying on the fly, but honestly I would not change this characterisation for the world, she is such a fun character to embody.

    Though as with most of my characters, there is some tragedy to her, and for Orianna specifically, it is the breakdown of her relationship with her girlfriend Eirina. There are definitely some personal elements injected into how things broke down between them, and what pushed Eirina to finally leave for her own good.

    What makes Orianna interesting is that when presented with the consequences of her self-destructive behaviours she… continued to cope using those self-destructive behaviours, rather than taking the time to reflect on what she could have done differently.

    I definitely want Orianna to have to face herself a bit in the Underdark, and have her issues catch up with her one way or another to force her to address them. However that happens is not up to me, but I am interested to see how I can develop Orianna further down the line.

    As with most of my stories, I enjoyed writing this. Even the flashback scenes, emotionally taxing as they were, were also incredibly rewarding to use as a framing device to tell a prelude story.

  • Marieya’s Emancipation

    (Story word count: approximately 3500 words. Estimated reading time: 35 minutes. CW: loneliness, depression)

    The realm of steam conjured from the trials and tribulations of Marieya Ebontide had presented her friends with several challenges. Zombies reanimated by the power of the phoenix, malicious manifestations of fallen friends, and a nothic bringing memories once repressed to the forefront.

    Although the world around them tried to sell them an image of Marieya built from her worst experiences, the party refused to let this cloud their judgement of her, and soldiered onwards to save her from herself.

    After confronting a pack of edjet initiates, Seggotan sent his blessings towards the party, revitalising their energy with holy water and provided a longship to take them across the ocean towards the final trial of this world: Marieya herself.

    The party and the steam shade of Ancil boarded the boat, which began moving on its own into the infinite horizon. Despite this being an elemental plane with no real concept of day or night, the sun seemed to set, a dark starless sky setting the mood for the encounter ahead.

    Eventually, there was light ahead of the party. An island surrounded by burning trees, a twisted memory of Marieya’s incident in the clearing that set her on her current path, at the cost of the lives of her closest friends. Twisted vines and branches formed burning effigies of the homelands of her current friends.

    The Margreave, the Northlands, Zobeck. Forming the points of an equilateral triangle with a facsimile of Marieya’s old tent house in the Shadow Realm directly in the middle of them all, the shadow fey herself lying in front of it on a scorched and ashen log.

    Sensing the presence of her friends, she stood up, her wings flexing slightly as the phoenix spoke to her in her mind. “They are right there… kill them all… now! Give all you are to me and end your torment!

    “Shut up…”, Marieya said mentally in response. Being a realm under her control, Marieya had seen everything her friends have done. Honesty refuting the words of Steamforged Vantar, Fauna covering the intrusive thoughts with beautiful flowers, the party as a whole refusing the words of her own manifestation of Corvus. Despite all this, Marieya still knew she couldn’t risk anyone else’s life.

    “I… told you to leave me behind if anything went wrong,” she began, “something went wrong, and… you’re still here… why? Why are you still here?! After seeing everything I’ve done! Everything I’ve put you through! Why. Are. You. Still. Helping. Me?!”

    Tears formed in Marieya’s eyes as her burns glowed softly in response to her panic. Honesty stepped forward, and spoke as rationally as possible. “You’re family,” he said, “and we’re not leaving you behind.”

    “Family… family doesn’t treat people like I’ve treated you all! I’ve caused so much harm…” and Marieya turned her eyes towards Tu-ughrem Bloodrot, the Gnoll known as Grem, “and to you, Gnoll, someone who got caught up in this mess without my intention… I’m sorry, this was never your fight.”

    Grem shrugged, “Well, I’m here now,” he said, “may as well stick around and help.”

    Marieya started pacing back and forth, hands fidgeting rapidly as her breathing grew shallow. “Well you don’t need to stick around any longer,” she said, “I’m staying here. I can’t leave this place. I need to stay here to keep everyone safe. I’ll… I’ll think of something, I’ll get you out of here, it’s the least I can-”

    “How can you be so selfish?” Fauna said, interrupting the worried ramblings of her friend.

    “I… uh… huh?”

    “Selfish. That’s what you’re being right now. We’re here for you right now, and we’re going to bring you back whatever you say.”

    A swell of positive emotion rose within Marieya, but it was quickly quashed by the phoenix who reasserted control, blue eyes being replaced by blazing orange ones. “Oh no my dear alseid, this useless girl is very much trying to be selfless right now. I’m going to break out of this prison, I am going to raze this world, and I am going to very much enjoy killing you all-no! No, I am not going to kill anyone here!”

    “That’s why I can’t leave here. I… can’t control myself anymore. I can’t risk endangering any more lives… I’m sorry.”

    Whilst all this was going on, Honesty had been searching around in their backpack for their mess kit, taking the tin and emptying it out before tugging at Jørgen’s furs to get his attention, pointing to his waterskin and, upon receiving a confirmatory nod, filled the empty tin up with water.

    And then walked forward and threw it at Marieya.

    The tin hit into her head before clattering onto the ground. An awkward silence fell between the shadow fey and the rest of the party as everyone tried to process what just happened.

    “You’re still Marieya. Play with the water for me.” Honesty said.

    Looking down at the ground, Marieya saw the makeshift projectile at her feet, there was still some water inside it but some droplets had fallen onto her feet and ankles, providing a satisfying, cooling effect. 

    The sensation grounded Marieya back to herself, and using her own magical prowess she started shaping the water onto the ground into a winding, twisting, ribbon around her. Whatever smooth, wave-like motion her left hand made, the water followed, more of it being created as it tried to wrap around.

    Oh no, don’t think you are getting away with that sappy shit so easily!” Marieya’s mouth said without her input, as her right hand moved against her will to conjure an opposing ribbon of fire moving against the ribbon of water.

    Left hand produced more water, the right hand manifested more fire. The magical elemental strands curled tighter around Marieya’s body, coming close to touching each other but all of them approaching the shadow fey’s grey, burnt skin.

    “Look, I don’t know what’s gonna happen if I don’t get control back, but, I want you to know one thing.”

    “If you have to strike me down, or I burn out trying to wrestle back control, or everything turns to ash, I can assure one thing.”

    “Even if my soul stays broken, my memories of you all will remain intact.”

    Fire and water collided, producing an intense flash and a loud boom. When vision returned to the others, they saw before them a fire-infused water elemental, looking very agitated to have been summoned somewhere far from ideal for it, but inside the shifting, watery body of the elemental was a dark, humanoid shaped shadow. Marieya was inside the elemental, controlling its every move.

    Everyone stood in fear, not wanting to bring major harm to their friend, but also wanting to bring her back.

    Thinking about how to attack the elemental indirectly, Fauna focused all of her magical energy to bring forth rain clouds above the battle arena, focusing the full force of the rainfall on the elemental itself. The water of its body was unaffected but the fire parts hissed and steamed as the rain made contact with it, uttering a curse in Aquan.

    Realising the efficacy of this approach, the druid called upon primordial spirits to surround the elemental, weakening its resistance against further druidic magics.

    Further to this logic, Jørgen attempted to use an icy spell to weaken the effectiveness of any attacks the elemental wished to make. Whilst the ice seemed to take hold of the creature, it did not seem to phase them much, only small fragments remaining on their body.

    Honesty did not want to fight their friend, even if they were in control of an elemental body. Positioning himself in front of the party, he adopted a defensive stance with his rapier and dagger, unwilling to cause harm but equally unwilling to let harm come to his friends.

    The elemental roared, and began manifesting boiling hot water between their hands, it turning into steam and then condensing back into boiling water seemingly in equal measure, before expelling it at the party in a large, wide cone. Everyone managed to make it out of the way in time except Jørgen who utilised his arcane prowess to absorb some of the intense heat away from his body.

    Analysing the situation, the steam shade of Marieya’s closest friend, Ancil, turned to Grem and wordlessly pointed to the shoulders of the elemental before pointing at their respective swords. 

    Both warriors shared a nod before charging forward, weaving between each other until reaching their target, delivering brutal slashes with greatswords to the “joints” of the elemental’s arms. The forging of their weapons caused visible harm to the creature as their arms retracted inwards, Ancil delivering two quick follow up slashes before they fully receded.

    Seeing the elemental weaken from this assault, Honesty saw a moment to try something dangerous, something incredibly reckless, but something that might just work. Removing his coat and dropping his weapons, he walked forward towards this towering foe, and plunged both his arms inside its superheated body.

    The pain was intense, boiling water scalding scales as the kobold tried to find something to grab onto. Until finally, he felt the ankles of Marieya, suspended within the elemental, and grabbed on tight. “Please,” he thought to himself, “please come back to us.”

    The phoenix’s rage had consumed Marieya entirely whilst they had been in control of the elemental, spurring the fight onwards. That was until she felt Honesty’s touch, and various memories flooded into her mind.

    Accidentally shaking down a homeless shelter.

    Fighting desperately to save Vantar.

    Rushing over to give her a healing hug at Donnermark.

    And even now, Honesty put himself into harm’s way in an attempt to bring his friend back. The rage did not subside within Marieya, it was completely pushed back by the realisation that this humble kobold was willing to do whatever it takes.

    With that, Marieya burst forth out of the back of the elemental, using her wings to raise herself above the ground and looking down at her friends, smiling fondly at Honesty.

    Having a pleasant flashback are we?” the phoenix spoke to Marieya in her mind, the rage only being held back for a moment before they were able to reassert itself, “you may have broken one plan, but I am not through with you yet!

    Orange eyes came back in full force as Marieya turned to the elemental, now free from internal control and looking to exact retribution against the one who summoned them. “Useless vessel,” the phoenix said as they glided forward and slammed their fist inside the elemental’s head, dissipating it instantly but using its body to forge a blade of rippling, boiling water.

    All of the party stood by, not wanting to be the first to harm Marieya now that she was outside of her elemental shell. Jørgen attempted to use a spell that attacked her mind rather than her body, but such magic was ineffective against something so driven by rage. 

    Fauna invoked druidic magic, conjuring forth a concentrated beam of moonlight in the hope that the phoenix was just a form that Marieya assumed, similar to a shapechanger. But whilst it did do some minor damage, it did nothing to return her to how she once was.

    The phoenix laughed, beginning to speak words of power and rage. Three small balls of fire began to orbit around them as each one seemed to start to form into a beam pointed at a different party member. Before they could fire though, Jørgen gave a swift slash of his arm, and the balls of fire turned into lumps of ice which then fell to the ground, shattering.

    You think a simple counterspell can stop my raw power?!” the phoenix said, turning their ire fully to the wizard, “witness the laws of magic bend to my fury!”. The burns on Marieya’s body glowed with intensity as the phoenix almost seemed to groan in pain as a bolt of fire manifested quicker than anyone else could react.

    Whilst their attention was diverted elsewhere, Ancil conjured up a projectile made of ice and threw it towards the phoenix. Focus being elsewhere did not seem to make their reactions any less effective, as the projectile missed and the resulting explosion failed to make contact as well.

    With his touch having been effective and Marieya now able to hear his voice, Honesty attempted to reason verbally with his friend.

    “Marieya… come home, please,” he said, “don’t die right after we’ve come into possession of a keep”. Grem turned to the rest of the party as he said this, a raised eyebrow asking for confirmation if this is true, nods being returned. “You can end this now, and you can come home with us and rest for as long as you need to. We’ll be here. I promise.”

    A warm smile crossed Marieya’s faced, eyes rapidly shifting between blue and orange as she struggled to bring the phoenix within her back under control. “NO!”, the phoenix said within her mind as it felt its influence begin to wane, “I am so close to freedom! I will not let you do this to me again!”.

    Using all of her mental strength to push those thoughts out of her mind, Marieya had regained enough control to allow herself to divebomb right into the ground in the middle of the party, watery blade landing to the side, laying her body as flat as possible to allow her friends to restrain her and put a stop to things non-lethally.

    Honesty came over and held her tight, infusing her with divine energy in the hope of it bringing her further back to reality. Jørgen took out rope to restrain her arms in the hope that the phoenix could no longer perform the hand motions of magic. Fauna used her magic to destroy the sword Marieya was carrying. And Grem stood guard, sword at the ready in case things went wrong.

    Fine… I may not be able to escape this realm, but I can at least take you with me!

    The burns all around Marieya’s back glowed brighter than they ever have previously, before erupting into flames as the phoenix soul burst forth from her body. The entire world seemed to shake as a loud caw echoed through the air, attempting to kill everyone currently in the demiplane of steam as a desperate last action.

    Instinctively, Marieya created a protective bubble of steam around her friends who were keeping guard over. Despite the fact this steam was producing a fair amount of heat, for the first time in her life, Marieya was cold. The phoenix soul had caused her so many issues, but through every moment in her life it provided her a constant, almost comforting warmth.

    But now that was gone, and although she was surrounded by friends, she had never felt more alone.

    “I… I’m sorry…” she said, sobbing softly into the soil beneath them, “I d-don’t know if I can stop this,” her unrestrained wings wrapped around her shivering body, holding her in an attempt to bring her temperature back up, “I never meant for any of this to happen… and now I have no idea what to do anymore…”

    “You just need to keep going,” Honesty said, “because you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

    “I was very deliberate with my flowers Marieya,” Fauna said, “some are dangerous if not treated with respect, but in the end all of them are as beautiful as I see you.”

    “And don’t give me any of that rubbish about thinking less of you,” Jørgen said, “you should know by now that someone rational will never think less of you for battling struggles.”

    The ropes binding Marieya were slashed open by Grem in a gesture of good faith, who gave an affirming nod. “Thank you,” Marieya said, flexing her wings as the bubble of steam began to dissipate, “this was not your fight, but I’m making sure you get back home!”

    With a mighty flap and an incredibly strong leap, Marieya flew into the air after the phoenix soul trying to collapse the realm, reaching them in no time at all and getting its attention by scraping an arm arcing with lightning across their spine. The fiery bird turned to Marieya who had her arms raised in a position inviting confrontation.

    To which the phoenix responded in turn, exhaling a cone of pure elemental fire. This was matched by Marieya, who extended out a hand and expelled a cone of icy energy, the two attacks cancelling each other out.

    This triggered an intense aerial battle between the two powerful forces of magic, each of them flying close to each other trading spells with increasing ferocity, every new burst of magic prompting an escalation by the other. Each side perfectly matched in both casting prowess and airborne acrobatics, neither allowing the other to get a clear shot at the other.

    Eventually a spell forced them a significant distance apart, staring each other down before accelerating at a rapid rate between each other. When the onlookers thought they were going to collide they instead banked slightly in opposing directions before spiralling around each other, ascending higher into the air.

    Each turn brought them closer together until the two finally collided, a massive solar flare like explosion coming from their contact point and obscuring them from the party.

    The two sides of Marieya had recombined, and the young shadow fey came face to face with the manifestation of the phoenix soul merged with her regrets and depression. “Do you think this means anything?!” it said to her, pacing aggressively in front of her, “you have succeeded in locking me back into your body once more but that does not save you!

    They pulled down their hood, revealing a mirror image of Marieya with several glowing orange cracks permeating their ashen skin, orange eyes with flames inside the pupils, and a permanent rage-filled expression. “I will always be a part of who you are!

    “You will always be a part of me,” Marieya said, approaching the phoenix and getting extremely close to them… before pulling them into a hug, “and I forgive you.”

    You… what?”, the phoenix said, incredibly confused at this turn of events.

    “You are my warmth, a part of my soul forever. And I have hated you for far too long now… I don’t want to fear you any more, I want to embrace you.”

    But… you are a monster! A fire starter! A murderer! How can you stand to live with yourself like this?

    “Because I’m not any of those things. I have made a lot of mistakes, mistakes that I will live with forever… but I can’t hate myself for these mistakes anymore.”

    The hug tightened between the two halves of Marieya. “And I can’t hate you for whatever I see as your part in those mistakes”. The phoenix then paused for a moment, before slowly reciprocating the hug with Marieya, a soft blue glow encompassing them both.

    The glow increased in intensity. As it did the phoenix began slowly merging back into Marieya, the warmth that had kept Marieya company all her life was with her once more, though this time it came with an inner peace that she had not experienced in a long time. Her appearance had returned to normal as well, no longer carrying feathered wings, she was back to how she always was.

    She turned around and saw the three steam shades of her friends. Summoned into the realm to aid the friends she had now, she gave a slight bow to them and said, “…I know I’ll never get to say sorry properly, and I know you’re just figments of my imagi–”

    “Oh shut the fuck up you brooding bitch,” Izumi said, “you can move on from us now. You got more important shit to worry about you daft twat!”

    Vardal shook his head, but couldn’t find the words to add to that statement, so followed it up by saying, “what Izumi said but with less cursing”.

    And Ancil merely smiled at Marieya, before all three of them faded into the steam once more.

    Slowly shrinking down, the solar flare retracted into Marieya and she floated back down to the ground, able to look upon her true friends with clear eyes again.

    “I have chosen my champion well,” a booming voice emanated throughout the realm, the voice of Seggotan, “and thank you, brave adventurers, for bringing her soul back… in more ways than one.”

    A pool of crystal clear blue water formed behind Marieya. “Leave this place, before it collapses in on itself,” Seggotan said, as the party jumped one-by-one into the pool, speaking again before Marieya was the last to go in, “be warned Marieya Ebontide, you might have my favour but you have still failed in your initial quest. The challenges ahead present great danger to the mortal realm, but I now know my faith in you and your friends is not misplaced.”

    Marieya smiled to herself, muttering a prayer under her breath, ending it with a characteristically casual, “thanks dude, see you later”, before jumping into the pool acting as a connection to the mortal realm, allowing her to return to Midgard, complete again.

    Inspiration

    This… is probably the piece of writing I can comfortably say is the hardest one I have ever had to write. Not only for it being the longest piece of fiction I have written in a long time but also for it coming after one of the most emotionally taxing D&D sessions I have ever been a part of.

    So, as explained in Marieya’s Refusal, Marieya died. And the resurrection quest to bring her back was jointly designed by myself and my DM, with us taking equal responsibility in running things. However, it was decided that I would be running the majority of the final “arc” in the quest, which led to having to be a DM, controlling Marieya fighting against her own friends.

    I definitely want to follow up this story with how I designed things, and why certain things were chosen, but I do want to get into what this was like emotionally for me.

    In short: soul-wracking.

    In much longer: playing Marieya for this session involved digging down into my own psyche and calling upon vulnerabilities I have not exposed in a long time. When I was acting out the dialogue for Marieya I was constantly on the verge of tears due to the emotions I was calling upon, which translated into what I hope was genuine dialogue of someone terrified of who they are right now.

    Loneliness tends to be a theme that comes with most of the D&D characters I write. Marieya’s specific brand of loneliness is the struggle to accept that she does have people around her who understand her, who know that she has done not great things in the past but view her more as who she is now as opposed to going off who she said she was, and as Honesty says, “she doesn’t have to be alone anymore”.

    I am very glad that the encounter ended up more social than combat focused. Although that prompted me having to think about how to handle player’s reactions to what was presented, I think it made for a more compelling scene overall as none of the party really wanted to fight Marieya, they just wanted to bring her back.

    The title is a twofold reference, the obvious one being is that this is Marieya gaining emancipation from her past and from this realm she created, but it also refers to the music I was initially going to use for the first two phases of the fight: Emancipation from Ace Combat 4, though I eventually decided against it for a handful of reasons that’ll be explained in the design write up.

    For now though, I hope you enjoyed reading this. I put a lot of emotion into this piece, and I like how it turned out.

  • Marieya’s Refusal

    Where… where am I?

    I remember Hollatrax growling with rage at not being able to shrink down into the temple, and they let out a massive cone of freezing cold breath. Priscilla reverted to her staff form, Jørgen was knocked unconscious and I…

    …oh.

    So… I’m dead? Properly dead I guess, cause I can’t feel any fire in or around me right now. I guess that breath was so cold that not even the eternal flames could bring me back.

    I can see more around me now, I’m floating. Floating amongst an ocean of stars in a deep, dark blue sky. The only thing holding steady being a single, silvery thread.

    There are others here too, perhaps other souls destined to whatever afterlife awaits them, similarly attached to threads. The threads lead into these rifts that crack open the immaculate colour of the sky, and slowly, one by one, they are pulled into rifts which close back up to repair the sky.

    A rift opens before me, and the thread begins pulling me towards it. I see… the forest where I lived. My old battered tent house. The river where I fished for food. I’m going home, and maybe I can finally apologise to everyone.

    Wait.

    No… don’t! Please!

    The thread snaps, and the rift closes itself up without me in it.

    I’m falling.

    Falling through an infinite blue void.

    Until a thread grabs me. Not silver this time, but a light blue, almost cyan. A rift opens up at the end of the thread, revealing what is on the other side.

    It’s a vast underwater reef, similar to the one where Seggotan came to me in the vision that brought me to this place. I hear his voice, albeit faintly.

    “It is not yet your time, young one.”

    Even here, his voice soothes me.

    “And I am not disappointed in you. You showed great courage and initiative in approaching the temple. The trials ahead may be daunting, but you are a devoted follower. I shall do all I can to return you to the mortal plane.”

    The fatherly voice of the dragon god combined with the serene underwater setting put me at ease, as I prepared myself to be pulled into what seemed like limbo.

    Until another thread grabbed me. This time a deep, burning, orange.

    “Not yet. I’m not done with you yet.”

    Oh no.

    Oh shit.

    At the end of the orange thread there was another rift, this one providing an image of places burning.

    The Margreave.

    The Northlands.

    Zobeck.

    “Not even death can truly stop a phoenix, and now… your body is all mine for the taking.”

    Both threads began pulling at once. A god of waves against a manifestation of fire. One looking to keep the world intact, another wishing for it to just burn away to ash.

    It started to hurt, as both forces did not want to back down, I was stuck in a tug of war between who I want to be and who I want to stop becoming.

    The rifts… the rifts are getting closer!

    Oh god, what’s going to happen?

    I’m trying to be pulled into limbo and rebirth simultaneously.

    I don’t want to die!

    I don’t want to be a feared phoenix!

    I don’t-

    There was a blinding flash of light as the rifts collided upon Marieya, enveloping her entirely. The divine power of Seggotan and the limitless sorcerous potential of the phoenix merged into one, bringing into life a demiplane of steam. One that was born from the stresses and trials of the young shadow fey, the environment shaping itself as such. And in a clearing deep within the demiplane itself, she was about to reawaken…

    My head is throbbing… and my body is burning all over. What happened when those rifts collided?

    Around me I see visages of trees… the forest that I burnt down.

    My hands… my hands have talons on the nails, blackened like the phoenix’s claws. The burns on my body glow faintly with power as wings appear as a fiery visage behind me.

    In my refusal to die I’ve become what I feared most. But… I’ve also trapped myself somewhere where I can’t hurt anyone.

    I’m… angry.

    A burning rage fills my chest as I feel my body lash out with various fiery spells, the environment shifting and twisting as the unchained magic within me takes control.

    The phoenix wants to be free.

    I can’t let it leave this place.

    For everyone’s sake.

    Inspiration

    So… Marieya died.

    Just straight up died.

    And to be honest, it isn’t really anyone’s fault here. I just got unlucky with how some damage was rolled.

    It was definitely stressful in the moment, as the realisation hits that a character you have cultivated for over a year has died in game.

    Not going to last, as this whole demiplane of steam is going to act as a massive stage for a resurrection quest with this acting as my first sort of DM experience as I will be co-DMing the quest, taking control of helper NPCs and eventually the final confrontation with Marieya herself.

    This is only a short story, about 750 words, but I’m hoping it helps me get some momentum back. Despite this story being born of an unfortunate occurrence, this felt good to write.

  • “It’s a reawakening”: Marieya’s Sorcerous Progression

    Why is this here? Because I love bretticus.llewellyn.art (Instagram) and if I can’t pay him I’m giving him as much exposure as I can

    Marieya is only 2710XP away from her next level up, meaning it came time for me to make a recurring decision now that her sorcerous nature is (mostly) in the open: do I continue speccing her into Cleric, and get my Level 6 domain feature on this level up? Or do I finally let part of her power reawaken properly as she gains access to a whole new world of spells.

    Well, given some events that have happened in the campaign, I think now is the right time for her to realise that suppressing this power is no longer an option.

    Background

    So, these events are supposed to be Marieya stories, hence why they will only be covered in minor detail here as opposed to doing a more in-depth look at why these events have lead to this conclusion:

    • Meeting a fellow Shadow Fey who knew of the incident involving Marieya’s magic, and an out-of-game discussion with her leading to some level of acceptance
    • A Wind Dragon sent by Corvus ambushing the party, making Marieya realise that her divergence from the Mharoti path means dragons will be somewhat common in her path now

    Beginning on her path to forgive herself properly and knowing that her new friends are in danger means she feels less apprehension at utilising her innate power, but also means she will be utilising it in a way more befitting of her personality post-incident, reflected in the choice of spells/cantrips.

    Subclass

    The subclass is the only aspect of this multiclassing that did not require much thought put into it, as it has been well established in stories that Marieya is a “Phoenix Soul” Sorcerer.

    This version of Phoenix Soul is specifically from the “Sorcerer, Tweaked” homebrew by SwordMeow. When I initially wrote “Marieya’s Screw Up” I actually did not have an origin in mind, as I never considered multiclassing out properly. This changed once my DM showed me this subclass and I read the flavour around it, especially the line of “If a fire breaks out in town, a phoenix sorcerer had best flee, whether guilty or not.”

    At 1st level, Marieya would be getting two subclass features and potentially an origin spell depending on how my DM wants to handle using this homebrew.

    Ignite is something that Marieya will not be using often, as not only does she feel it is a disaster waiting to happen, she has too much love and respect for Seggotan to go around starting fires with just a touch of her hand. It will definitely find some use during the campaign, but it will likely sit as a backburner feature… pun moderately intended.

    Phoenix Mantle is a similar use case as well, as Marieya will only have a small number of spells that deal fire damage. That said, I do have a couple of roleplay based ideas with how to utilise this feature, perhaps combined with Thaumaturgy for a terrifying display of power combining both the divine and the innate as the normally reserved shadow fey spreads wings of fire wide as her voice booms out to her foes.

    As for the origin spell, having Burning Hands as a spell that does not count towards the maximum number of spells known would be nice, but even then it would see very little use due to wanting to keep Marieya’s usage of fire down to a minimum. And as will be shown in the next section, the spells selected are more versatile than that.

    Spells

    Being able to only pick two 1st level spells certainly made deciding what to pick a bit difficult. Going into this I wanted to pick up something good for defense, and something good for offense, with a good payoff if I decide to upcast it using the higher level spell slots earned from being so far into Cleric.

    Shield was my first thought for something defensive, as it is a universally useful spell that would bump Marieya up to an AC of 24 in response to a melee attack, making her incredibly difficult to hit and extending her longevity even further.

    However, when considering the nature of dragons, one of their main offensive options are their breath weapons, which are usually elemental in nature and which force a saving throw of some kind, which Shield would not be helpful against. Taking this into account, it is more thematic for the defensive spell to be Absorb Elements.

    Triggering in a similar manner to Shield, Absorb Elements would make Marieya more likely to stay standing if she failed a save against a breath weapon, or to shrug it off better if she passed the save. The extra damage on the next turn’s melee attack is appreciated but ultimately inconsequential when considering other offensive options.

    As for the offensive spell itself, Chaos Bolt was considered and dropped pretty quickly. Whilst it is a Sorcerer exclusive spell and upcasts quite well, the random elemental nature of the attack makes it ill-suited for fighting dragons, as an attack could roll into the element the dragon is immune to thereby wasting a turn.

    The ever reliable Magic Missile was considered for longer, especially as its long range and guaranteed hit would allow for nailing fleeing dragons without having to worry about how low Marieya’s spellcasting modifier is.

    In the end though, I went for something that I felt had good upcast ability and provided versatility against the potential of elemental resistance/immunity that dragons carry: Chromatic Orb.

    Whilst Marieya’s Charisma is nowhere near where it should be for a casting class, a +5 to hit is not the worst modifier to have, especially in situations where advantage can be applied. The option to select what type of damage the orb is dealing gives greater control than Chaos Bolt, and upcasting something with a d8 damage die is nothing to sneer about.

    Cantrips

    Picking two spells presented a set of challenges, picking four cantrips presented an entirely different set of challenges, especially as the cantrip list for sorcerers is almost three times as long as the list for clerics, providing a lot of choices to pick from.

    One that was fairly easy to pick was Shape Water, given Marieya is now a cleric of the water god Seggotan, it made sense that she would be using her innate magical power to be doing something more aligned with her god. Shape Water itself seems a very useful cantrip, especially as the option to freeze water (without creatures in it) opens up a lot of alternate avenues to problem solving.

    Next came a pick that was influenced by equal parts mechanical and flavour applications, Mind Sliver. Mechanically, Mind Sliver is a great cantrip. It has good damage output, inflicts a debuff that can make or break the result of an enemy saving throw, and is a damage type that is infrequently resisted (psychic). 

    In terms of flavour though, this is Marieya attempting to inflict fear upon draconic foes. As time passes and more dragons sent by Corvus are defeated, it is logical that the Mharoti are going to get nervous about how powerful Marieya is, leading to the psychic spike from Mind Sliver being a literal bolt of fear against a dragon, playing to their uncertainty if they will survive an encounter with this humble shadow fey.

    Ray of Frost seems like an odd choice compared to Frostbite, but given the low DC that Marieya’s sorcerer spells will be working with and the fact that Constitution saves on higher CR monsters are quite difficult to win, the ranged attack roll won out. The speed reduction effect will also help against dragons, as it means they will not be able to move as far away when doing a hit-and-run attack.

    And finally, a fairly basic spell in the form of Fire Bolt. It is there solely for flavour on Marieya’s origin, but it is a long range cantrip with an impressive d10 damage dice.

    Future plans

    This just covers what Marieya is going to look like as a 1st level sorcerer multiclass, so what rough plans do I have for her progressing as a sorcerer?

    Right now it feels like I will be putting my focus back onto cleric, especially as I want to unlock the rest of my domain spells before deciding on how I might want to progress as a sorcerer.

    That said, it is looking quite likely that my 8th cleric level feat will be “Metamagic Adept”, to further reflect Marieya’s power reawakening. “Distant Spell” is going to be a must-take in my opinion, as it will be invaluable in long range conflicts. “Quickened Spell” is also fairly high up on the priority list, as the ability to cast a spell as a bonus action leaving an action free to Dash to cover/to spread out seems useful.

    In any case, Marieya now knows she can use her power for good, and protecting her friends from the wrath of dragons is a worthy cause to break out of her self-imposed restraint.

  • Introducing: Sir Reginald Valkyrie

    Introduction

    “Sir Reginald Valkyrie, at your service. Where I come from matters not, for I have always been on the move, until now. I seek knowledge, artifacts, and the comfort of a hot drink at the end of the day.

    In combat I will be your shield, your strength, your bulwark. For weapons shall crack across my shell as if they were made of paper.

    This guild seems a suitable place for me to make a temporary home in aid of my quest for items of powers. And who knows? I could make some great new friends along the way.”

    Background

    So, a good friend of mine has started running a server for the group I run with for D&D in the style of a guild, known as the Raven’s Flight Guild, where players can have a roster of characters that can take on a variety of missions, all run by the other players in the guild, giving everyone a chance to have a go at DMing.

    In short; it is D&D for people without consistent schedules, or for those who need a more regular fix.

    And when a workday went wrong leading to me not really having a workload that day, I decided to work on what I wanted my first guild character to be.

    Building

    Originally Sir Reginald Valkyrie was supposed to be my character for an upcoming second half of a campaign a friend is running, where he was initially a level 8 Tortle Samurai Fighter with a focus on great weapons and Magic Initiate as one of his feats. He quickly got sidelined by me being a dirty Dexterity main a character concept that spoke to me more on a creative level.

    Tortle reference art from: https://syrikdarkenedskies.obsidianportal.com/wikis/tortle-race

    However, I still had my sights on getting a Tortle I could regularly play with, leading to the decision to transplant the name and original focus (Strength based melee with light casting) to my guild character, but now with a different class.

    The rules for homebrew in the guild follow an approved content list, normally approved by one of the guild masters. Thankfully the group had been using Mage Hand Press (MHP) content for enough time to have the majority of MHP original classes be included with no problems.

    And whilst the voice of the divine was strong, urging me to play my first Paladin, there was no doubt in my mind once I heard the Warden’s call.

    Warden follows a lot of the same defensive lines as Paladin, but offers more options to allow for the Warden to control the tide of battle. From forcing creatures to stay near you unless they specifically use their action to disengage, to applying disadvantage on a single creature that chooses not to attack you. Combine this with abilities that allow for recovering status conditions and resisting piercing, bludgeoning, and slashing damage at low health, the Warden is very much a case of “You shall attack me, and only me, and I’m going to make it damn difficult for you to kill me”.

    So, I had my Strength focused class, I had a high AC due to my natural armour, but what could I do to introduce the light casting element at level 3? This is where my choice of subclass came in: Loreseeker

    Loreseeker is Eldritch Knight: Warden Edition, essentially. Limited spell pool from needing to primarily select from Evocation and Abjuration spells, lower number of total spell slots, and Intelligence as the casting stat.

    But where Eldritch Knight focuses on using magic for offensive purposes, Loreseeker provides a mix of offense, defense, and the battlefield controlling nature of Warden.

    Starting out, any creature I mark using my Warden’s Mark feature has to subtract 1d4 from any saving throw it makes to resist my spells. Following on from that, any creature I mark is teleported to within 5 feet of me (once per short or long rest), allowing me to bring weaker enemies to me for finishing off or give allies a breather from stronger enemies. I straight up get advantage on saving throws against spells at level 13, and my capstone feature at level 20… well, I will post it next to this paragraph and let you make your mind up on how amazing it is.

    Backstory

    Whilst I am normally one to launch into giving a character an interesting backstory and then expand on their character through the numerous stories that populate this website… I really wanted to have a character where I did not do that. Sir Reginald was originally supposed to be that for the full campaign he was playing in until my writer sense got the better of me the backstory I came up with for the other character worked pretty well.

    Despite this, he does have a fairly brief backstory. In connection to his Loreseeker subclass, he is mainly on the hunt for various magic items. Some of these have been chosen as they would enhance his capabilities in combat, some of them are because he wishes to study the arcane craftsmanship within these items. 

    To this end he was a nomad, not really staying long in one place, until he fell through a Wormhole of Plot ConvenienceTM and ended up in the world of the Raven’s Flight Guild. Understandably still wanting to continue his quest but needing an anchor point in this strange new world, he applied to the guild as a way to find a place to stay, and maybe make some new friends too.

    Characterisation

    Sir Reginald Valkyrie is a stoic but friendly individual. He takes whatever mission he has accepted from the guild seriously and remains focused in any scenario involving combat to make sure his vigilant eye never strays from his teammates, ensuring their safety above all else.

    I joked during the first session that I would be roleplaying him as a single dad, but, the more I think about it, the more I really like this path of development for him. He is fairly old for a Tortle, as much as he is dedicated to his quest there is a certain pleasure for him in lazing around all day with cups of tea, and any low rolls for skill checks I am playing them as “I’m getting too old for the shit”.

    In addition to this, I like the idea that he views his fellow guildmates as a different sort of found family. Rather than seeing the rest of the guild as informal siblings, he is happy for the guild to see him as their informal father figure/uncle (with one character in the opening game asking if they could call him “Uncle Reggie”). So whilst the aspect of “I would protect these people with my life” is still present, it is definitely more as a protector than anything else.

    Random Details

    • He is not actually a knight, or any sort of noble. The “Sir” is very much an optional title that he uses to sound more fancy, and does not really care if anyone uses it
    • Despite this, unless given express permission, you are not to call him “Reggie”. Reggie is reserved for people he wants to call him that.
    • He is a Tortle for the sole reason of me discovering the race recently due to JoCat’s Crap Guide to D&D Races video and going “I need to play this now”
    • The “Valkyrie” part of his name and the fact he wields a maul is a reference to RWBY’s Nora Valkyrie, though definitely calmer and not as attuned to lightning (though he does know Shocking Grasp)

    Conclusion

    That is a brief introduction to the character of Sir Reginald Valkyrie, who I hope to go on many adventures more with. Maybe at some point I will write a more detailed backstory for him, but at this moment in time, it does not really matter much to me. He is a big friendly turtle with a simple style of fighting: be strong, and hit stuff.

  • Ballistics Research Entry 04100321 (A Blaze Story)

    “Situations prompting use of incendiary explosives have been… few and far between,” Blaze said to themselves as they removed the detonator from the aforementioned device, “whilst others may not respect the artistic effort put into these devices, it may be worth deploying a new prototype.”

    Whilst the rest of the party slept, being a vect meant all they needed was a four hour recharge period, Blaze was tending to their research notes and bombs, working on preparing new payloads for all sorts of different scenarios.

    “If conventional fire-based methods are out of the question, then maybe…”

    Copying the written formula for the incendiary bomb, they started changing different values on the flammable compounds, adjusting the strength of the detonation spark that would have  ignited the previously used material but would struggle to ignite this less viscous concoction, instead needing a more direct application of heat and/or explosive force.

    Pasting this new data into a simulation application on their datapad revealed the results of this breakthrough. The new bomb would disperse a light, flammable oil in the same radius that the previous bomb did, unable to cause any direct damage but enhancing any abilities or weapons that use fire as their primary damage method.

    “Well, that’s the issue of direct incendiaries out of the way, but… there’s more potential in the base device, I know it.”

    Switching back over to the original explosive, Blaze ran a simulation and watched carefully how the fire interacted around foes hiding in cover. Although the fire was able to eventually spread across the cover if it was flammable, the main reagent was unable to go past any obstacles.

    “So, if I take the primary detonation method, and then add… pellets…”

    Leaning over some alchemy supplies and reading instructions off their datapad, they were able to synthesise a large number of rubber pellets, bouncy enough to ricochet around any obstacles but still hard enough to deliver concussive force strong enough to render foes unconscious.

    “Anita does always say there is no profit in murder.”

    And as if on cue, Anita Grimm herself appeared. A Cabal field agent with aspirations of semi-freelance soul brokering, she was often the one needing to clean up the social messes that the others had got themselves into, using her much sharper wit to diffuse situations and work others to her advantage. “Oh, you’re still up?” she said, her tone indicating an initially restless start to her own sleep.

    “If I have no need of sleep other than my recharge period, I may as well advance my research,” Blaze said in response, finishing off the simulations of the new rubber pellet bomb, “if you need a pick-me-up there’s a couple cans of Krash in my toolkit.”

    The investigator stared at the vect in shock, wondering how this sociopathic demolitionist had survived so long in the universe, “you keep… energy drink… next to your bomb materials?”

    “Correct, do not worry yourself though, I have only had one accident where I used Krash instead of a reagent, and all that happened was a smell of burning sugar alongside some wasted Krash.”

    “But… but…” Anita said, becoming more incredulous at the situation, “you’re a Vect! You don’t need to eat or drink! Why do you drink so much Krash?”

    “Remnant of a past job,” Blaze said, reaching and cracking open another can, “I used to be the sales representative to the Avia-Ra Holy Lands when the Krash company was expanding into that territory.”

    There was a pause.

    “It didn’t go well, and I was let go from the company. Before I left though they allowed me to take as much Krash as I wanted as part of my severance package.”

    Anita sighed deeply, before asking a question she knew she was going to regret. “And how much of that Krash do you have left?”

    There was another pause.

    “Approximately three-hundred-thousand-and-forty-two cans in multiple safehouses and hidden caches across the ‘Verse.”

    A long silence hung between the vect and the human, with the latter completely failing to process both the implications of a construct lifeform getting addicted to a mass-produced energy drink, and the logistics of storing that much energy drink across such a wide area. Blaze continued to work on their final new bomb prototype as a novel idea entered into Anita’s mind.

    Consulting her grimoire of rituals she flipped pages until she reached the arcane process of protecting technology: the antivirus spell. Muttering quickly to herself the words of power and weaving sigils in the air gently until the spell was complete, a faint shroud of binary surrounding Blaze for a brief moment.

    They stopped their work, staring into their toolkit for a moment, contemplating how much Krash they had drunk over the years and how unhealthy a habit it was. There was a lot for Blaze to think about… 

    …and they decided to mull these things over with a can of Krash.

    Realising that her potential fix had backfired on her spectacularly, Anita sighed before retiring to another part of the ship to finish her infernal paperwork. Meanwhile, the moment of pause had given Blaze inspiration for a prototype.

    “Krash is a container of energy, where the metabolic process dispenses this energy over a period of time. If I take this theory and apply it to this…”

    Opening up a piece of design software on their datapad, Blaze began going through iterative designs of a capacitor that could be integrated into the detonation mechanism of a bomb, eventually being able to plug this new electrical explosive into the simulation program, revealing the added benefit of the electric discharge numbing the reaction times of any potential foes.

    “New bomb designs complete, will fabricate two potions in case of emergency and then I shall retire with the new combat simulation running.”

    Unlike the scientific process Blaze uses to develop new bombs, the process for creating potions was remarkably simple and only took about twenty minutes all told to complete the brewing.

    Packing away their equipment neatly, they then sat comfortably in their chair and entered into the powered down recharge state, leaving enough power to be aware of the surroundings and to run the combat simulation program. Over the course of four hours the program ran until the in-built criteria were met, and Blaze was comfortable with the weapons training they had received.

    “I may have had to temporarily retire the incendiary device… but no one has yet forbade me from using a plasma launcher…”

    Inspiration

    Blaze recently reached level four in the campaign they are played in (unrelated, this is why the entry number is what it is, 04 for level, 10/03/21 being the date of the session) and this unlocked a lot of great potential for the mad bomber.

    Blaze is an Alchemist, which means at level 4 in addition to getting their first Ability Score Improvement they also gain access to the unique mechanic of “Discoveries”. Think of them like Eldritch Invocations for an Intelligence-based class, and you unlock two of your choice at level four.

    I knew for definite I wanted to get the “Battle Training” discovery (martial weapon and shield proficiency) right away, not so much for shields, but for all the cool martial weapons that are contained within the Dark Matter book. Picking the second discovery was a bit more difficult, as I originally had my heart set on “Grenadier”, which allows for a bonus action weapon attack if your main action was throwing a bomb.

    But, as I looked both through the discovery list and the bomb formulae list, I started to realise I could start to build Blaze towards being a multipurpose character for the time being, and using a greater variety of bombs would allow for this versatility. So, I ended up taking the “Ballistics Research” discovery, which grants me two additional bomb formulae, and gave me the first part of my title.

    The other major aspect of this story is adding detail into why Blaze, a Vect with no need to eat or drink, has an addiction to the Dark Matter energy drink called Krash. Initially I started this as a joke with one of Blaze’s many past jobs being an energy drink sales representative, though I eventually went into it a bit more with them drinking it whenever they are idle or needing to work. 

    And because Blaze is where I roleplay someone a bit more ridiculous, the joke about having these caches of energy drink hidden all over the place came naturally.

    Anita did indeed try to cast Antivirus on Blaze in effort to alleviate their energy drink problem, but, it is far too ingrained into the ideal that is Blaze to ever be solved so simply.

  • Marieya’s Companions

    Marieya and the party enter into the sewers beneath Donnermark, pursuing the restless dead who were carrying corpses in service of some unknown master…

    Oh gross don’t step in that! Oh bugger this place is rank and smells like undead. I mean… this is one of the best places for my magic to work well but that can’t stop the smell these guys give off!

    At least Fauna is in her ostrich form which makes it easier for her to get down into the sewers. Being a druid does have some perks I suppose, especially as her normal form would really struggle using that ladder. Having hooves and being shaped like she is could lead to some accidents climbing down it.

    I do appreciate having her around though, aside from not taking too kindly to the jokes I make about her supposed blueberry addiction she’s very friendly. Definitely understanding of various things within the party, can heal others if I’m struggling with the task or otherwise bogged down, and her animal forms can be deadly.

    Jørgen on the other hand…

    Don’t get me wrong, I love this new found family I have come across but out of all of them he’s the one I understand the least. He does a lot of the talking for us, despite being somewhat antisocial in other scenarios, and his sense of urgency definitely runs on a part-time basis, usually only existing if one of us is in real danger or if he wants to cast a stupid powerful spell.

    Which is usually just Fireball. Like I know it is one of the best spells a wizard-in-training can get but… it still doesn’t get any easier seeing that explosion again, especially so soon after everyone has seen my phoenix powers.

    The newest member to this little group is called Nanukapik. Initially, I was crapping myself when I saw them, y’know on the whole basis of “bearfolk normally want to eat my ripe liver for brunch”, until I saw him and Jørgen talking, sharing stories of the Northlands, leading me to realise he probably wouldn’t irrationally want to kill me.

    Good thing, considering he looks like he could cave my head in without much effort. Not only is a war pick something insanely scary to come up against, he looks the pinnacle of strength, able to effortlessly lift, pull, drag, and fight anything that gets in his way. Hopefully this story of his being a “folk hero” holds up.

    He was taking up the vanguard position, whereas in the rearguard, like usual, was our disaster kobold, Honesty.

    Okay, calling him a disaster is a little rude, especially considering we’ve both got into our fair share of trouble together over the past months. And kinda insensitive given what happened recently. I can’t fault his effectiveness in combat though, able to surprise even the wittiest foes with devastating attacks.

    But… yeah, I worry about him. A lot. Losing Vantar was hard on us all, though the rest of us had only known him for a fleeting moment. Honesty had to watch as his lifelong friend died in his arms for a second time. Due to the nature of soul gems I don’t exactly know when he “died”, but the crack in the soul gem combined with the dullness told us everything. 

    I wish I comforted him more, but obviously not everyone wants to hear platitudes from someone who killed their closest friends… I miss them every day…

    Snap out of it Marieya, that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, we need to clear out this crap tunnel of the undead, find out what’s causing this all, then move onto helping Fauna and others.

    Then, finally, I have my vision from Seggotan. A personal quest from my father beneath the waves to go to Lake Phandar and seek out a female descendant of his turned heretic. Defeating her will prove my loyalty and award me with an item of great power known as the “Staff of Origin”.

    I have no idea what to expect, what trials I may face, but I’m at least glad Seggotan consistently used female pronouns to describe this individual. This means that no matter what comes to face me, I don’t have to see Corvus again!

    I hope.

    Inspiration

    As Rosalia realises it has taken her this long to formally introduce the party of the Midgard campaign she plays in, but considering we had a new member join, figured it was the best time.

    With this as well I definitely wanted the main story to focus on how Marieya herself sees her friends and what she thinks of them, hence the first person perspective this time around and writing the story with her mannerisms in mind.

    As for the party themselves, I’ll give a quick summary here:

    • Jørgen, our antisocial wizard with a spellbook that lets them change the damage type of their spells
    • Fauna, a friendly druid with amazing wild shape forms and formidable spells
    • Honesty, a rogue/paladin with a particular strong sales technique
    • And Nanukapik, a warden and our primary tank (dude has 51 hitpoints)

    Bit of a shorter article generally really, but it’s nice to do some condensed ones now and again.

  • Romy’s Bad Gill Day

    The nation of Contabul was one with a strong military tradition. With multiple divisions and specialised forces, there were no other nations that dared to challenge them, leading to decades of peace in the world of Crossjunk. 

    Despite this peace, the military were constantly evolving and recruiting to ensure they could combat any threat that could occur in the future. And today was the selection trials for the Contabul Special Tactics and Infiltration Forces.

    “You have all been brought forward today for one reason,” General Torez said as he began his speech. Torez was one of the most decorated soldiers in the military, and was the chairman of the Contabulese Joint Chiefs of Staff. “All you maggots passed the psychometric tests required to qualify for advancing in this process…”

    He raised his voice as the speech continued, “…but that does not matter in this trial! The tests only prove one thing, that all you muppets are able to fill in some bubbles on a piece of paper! Now the real test here is your combat prowess, your ability to run a specialised designed gauntlet whilst choosing your own combat loadout to address said challenges!”

    “All you men–”. This statement was cut off by a gentle cough somewhere down the lineup of soldiers. Everyone was outfitted differently, some were in heavy armour and carrying equally heavy weaponry, some were carrying light equipment meant to enhance their combat potential through mobility. But one person stood out, not only for being the only girl in the lineup, but also for having the most unique armour of them all.

    “Yes. You are not a man, Captain Cuddlesocks-Squishycheeks, excuse me for such rudeness,” Torez said derisively, leading to snorts and muffled laughs along the line.

    “Captain Doctor Romy Cuddlesocks-Squishycheeks, thank you very much!” Romy said in a sarcastic response. Being the only engineer and soldier of the Mechanised Warfare Division led to some looking down on her, with many high-ranking officials seeing her prototyping work being a waste of the military budget, despite the multitude of advances she had made in modifying weapons and armour.

    One such prototype she was wearing today, a lightly armoured mechanised exoskeleton with several advanced systems allowing for greater freedom of movement and lightning quick reflexes. 

    Torez shifted uncomfortably at being stopped in the middle of his speech, feeling unable to resume his flow. “Right, well,” he said, going over and opening the gate to the gauntlet, “let the trial begin I suppose…”

    Soldiers attempted the challenge in the order they were lined up, each one coming out the other end, being informed of their time and given “constructive” feedback from Torez.

    “Ramirez! You can follow orders well enough, but your technique is atrocious!”

    “You have hand grenades for a reason Altman. Use them!”

    “If you keep fighting like that Shepherd, we’re going to have to bring you back from the dead!”

    Whilst all the feedback varied, all of the soldiers averaged a course completion time of twenty-eight seconds. Then came Romy’s turn, and where all the others had chosen gear to handle a variety of scenarios, the only equipment she was taking into the trial was her exoskeleton, and a customised machine pistol.

    As she entered the course and Torez closed the gate, he snickered at her “Good luck passing the trial with that peashooter, Doctor Cuddlesocks-Squishycheeks!” Romy paid no attention to this snarky comment, instead giving her weapon a check one last time and pressing a button on her hand.

    A fleeting moment passed before the klaxon to start the trial sounded. Romy accelerated rapidly from a standstill, rushing through the obstacles, darting over barricades as if they were not even there. When enemy targets popped up in front of her the targeting systems in her exoskeleton took over, effortlessly guiding her arms to each target, allowing her to clear a room within seconds.

    Charging down a corridor, bullet traps had been set up for her to neutralise, evade, or tank through. None of the guns came ever close to scraping her armour, the heightened state of reaction granted by the integrated technologies automatically allowing her to dodge out of the way.

    Then came the final obstacle, one designed to make sure potential candidates had packed the adequate grenades to handle such a large group of enemies. Romy’s pistol however, had several modifications for taking on said scenario, being able to use one burst of fire to target two huddled targets before using a brief moment to realign her aim and annihilate the remaining targets.

    The klaxon sounded once more, as the exit gate opened. Torez was standing there, looking in utter shock at his tablet that tracked stats during the trial, only to be greeted with a knowing smirk from the lotlite girl.

    “Well?” Romy asked in a singsong tone.

    The normally pompous general was completely taken aback by the performance in front of him, saying, “All targets destroyed… no bullet traps hit their mark… clear time… eighteen-point-three-nine seconds.”

    Gasps and whispers erupted from the soldiers who had taken the trial, in utter disbelief that such a time had been recorded. “Well,” Romy said, walking off with her head held high, “I look forward to receiving my acceptance letter shortly!”

    After the commotion had calmed down, Torez chaired an emergency meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to discuss this latest development, with Romy sitting outside the glass-walled conference room waiting to be called in. Hours passed as the lotlite just watched everyone talk, no sound passing through the thick glass.

    Until finally, Torez opened the door to invite her in. He took his seat at the head of the table whilst Romy stood on a box, standing to attention to hear the verdict of her exceptional trial performance.

    “Captain Doctor Romy Cuddlesocks-Squishycheeks, we of the–” Torez began once more, before getting interrupted again by Romy.

    “What in the fucking hell do you mean “honourable discharge” you uptight bastards?!”

    The gathered officials all gasped in shock, both at the language used and getting beaten to the punch. “Oh don’t act so shocked,” Romy said, seething with anger, “I’ve been able to read lips flawlessly for ages, and your entire conversation is known to me. On that note, what do you mean my fucking funding is gone too?!”

    Torez shrank into his chair, before a dwarven admiral named Fravan spoke up. “Well, Romy lass,” he began, stumbling over his words in the face of this surprising fury, “out of all the budget allocated to your program, we have not seen many returns on the promise of mechanised warfare.”

    “Do you even read my reports? I specify that everything is a pro-to-type, subject to blind testing by other members of the armed forces, which I would love to do if all of you weren’t holding up my test application forms!”

    Fravan quickly piped down before Coastal Defence Commander Pip Harding added their opinion, saying, “Yes, we know you make prototypes, but we are also failing to see returns on the innovation programs your department promises.”

    Romy nodded, and made some “uh-huh” sounds before launching back at Pip with a brutal comeback. “Tell me, Commander Harding, what is the newest ship in your coastal fleet?”

    “The Monument of Fall, why?”

    “Tell me, who outfitted the weapons on this ship?”

    Pip turned red in an instant, realising that Romy had not only been in charge of installing the tertiary weapon systems on board that ship, but she had also custom manufactured the main gun, a completely new railgun system never before seen on such a ship.

    The talented engineer looked across all of the gathered officials, and decided now was the best time to vent her frustrations.

    “I get it. None of you like the fact I’m an upjumped weapons tech trying to make my worth as a soldier. You just want me to sit in my warehouse, make innovative weapons for you, and keep my mouth shut whilst collecting paychecks. And y’know what? I could’ve done that, if it weren’t for the boneheaded, arse-kissing, bootlicking mentality of all of you here! When I joined the munitions team all this military had was two sticks and a rock, and all of you had to share the rock!”

    Torez slammed his fist on the table, finally getting his own interruption on Romy. “Enough, child!” he said, a grim tone lacing his voice, “I will not sit here and allow our glorious military to be slandered by someone thinking her toys are something of note.”

    Silence fell across the conference room. Everyone was in agreement that they wanted Romy out of their armed forces, but for someone to discredit the real contributions she had made to their military strength was bold, even for someone as arrogant as Torez.

    Meanwhile, Romy quietly fumed as she stared the general down from across the table, shaking in anger. “Child… toys…” she said to herself, over and over again, quietly at first but quickly increasing in volume before reaching a riotous shout of “These are not childish toys you lobotomised oaf! Next time, if you ever find yourself in need of a weapon, don’t go for a Romy Tech, registered trademark, weapon. Instead, try using that stick up your arse for something productive!”

    And with that final insult, she stormed off from the meeting, vaguely hearing them all talking about a court martial as she retreated to her warehouse.

    Doffing her exoskeleton, she turned the lights on. Various projects came into view, weapons that had been put into the mod shop for improvements, armour that needed reinforcing, and a whole laundry list worth of build orders for the military. But, in addition to all this, was one of Romy’s most significant pieces of craftsmanship: her Mechanaut Apparatus.

    An eight-foot tall upscaled version of her exoskeleton, her Aquatic Ambusher was quite a stocky creation with the cockpit being directly integrated between the shoulders, both of which were heavily plated. The arms were thick and laden with hydraulics, all the better to support the weapons that had been installed. 

    One arm carried a large gatling gun modified to be an energy weapon that can change the output of its shots, and the other was intended to carry a large drill. The legs were a similar story to the arms, but with numerous shock absorbers that allowed it to fall a distance of approximately one-hundred feet without damage.

    Romy looked fondly at the drill sitting on one of her many workbenches, thinking to herself about how she never got the spin speed right for mounting onto the mech. Strewn across other benches were all her research notes, about her breakthroughs, her hardships, and her potential future ideas.

    Looking across the warehouse she sighed deeply, knowing soon all of this will be turned into scrap for boring weapons. But then came a knock, and a figure entering.

    “Doctor?” a voice said in inquiry, belonging to a tall, dark-skinned elf wearing a general’s uniform. 

    “Mane-Wa, what do you want?” Romy said in response, her voice indicating exasperation at dealing with another general, but not as acidic as in the conference room. Mane-Wa was one of the few higher ups that the lotlite actually felt she could get along with, and was often greeted with respect by.

    “I have come to be the messenger for the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Your chance at an honourable discharge has gone, you are now facing a court martial tomorrow, where you will almost certainly be convicted, after which you will be jailed, and your projects requisitioned for scrap.”

    “Gee, thanks for telling me what I already figured out. Are you here to just give me it in an official manner or is there something else?”

    “In about an hour, a truck will come by with a barge on it. The men will help load your projects and research onto the barge, after which we will escort you to the ocean, and let you sink it to the bottom.”

    Romy turned around, a shocked expression crossing her face. “Wait… what?” she said in disbelief.

    Mane-Wa closed her eyes and spoke solemnly, “I know you have not been treated right within this institution, and whilst the others have no such cares, I wish to attain some penance for my part in it. Disallowing your life’s work to fall into the wrong hands will grant me a modicum of peace.”

    Normally boisterous and always having a comeback prepared, Romy was now completely unable to say anything, her gills quivering slightly as she agreed to this act of defiance. Going over to a heavy-duty safe located in a dark corner of one of her workspaces, she entered the combination and removed a large object, covered in wires and a detonator.

    “Do not worry, the explosives my men are providing should be more than adequate,” Mane-Wa said in an attempt to offer reassurance.

    Romy took no such comfort in this, responding with “These are my works, my creations, my value. I refuse to let them die by the hands of this military, I need to kill them, with one last creation of my own.”

    The elf nodded, and took her leave to allow Romy to gather everything together at the back of the warehouse. An hour passed, and the truck with the barge arrived. Two uniformed elves of a similar appearance to Mane-Wa helped load everything on, from the mech, to the weapons, to the hundreds of papers and notes. When the warehouse was truly empty, they departed for the Sea of Sunset.

    As they reached the ocean, the eponymous time had arrived. The twilight creating beautiful orange hues across the water, gentle waves rippling with the wind. Two more of Mane-Wa’s men were waiting at the beach, ready to help lift the barge off into the ocean. Before they pushed it off into the ocean, Romy planted her homemade explosive charge, and primed the detonator, giving one last loving look at her creations.

    Mane-Wa’s men pushed the barge off into the ocean, and Romy watched. “It may be best that you do not look,” Mane-Wa said, offering a reassuring head pat to the young girl, “it will only make it harder.”

    Again, Romy did not listen to the counsel of what might be her only remaining ally in this land. She watched the barge drift to the ocean, and mentally counted down the detonation timer in her head. As it reached zero, the barge erupted into flames before erupting into a massive explosion, permanently damaging everything on board and destroying the barge, sinking everything to the bottom.

    A few tears escaped her eyes as she watched the flames engulf everything she was leaving behind. “It’s been my pleasure darling,” she said, her voice breaking as she watched the last bit of her prized mech sink beneath the waves, “always was.”

    Romy passed her thanks to Mane-Wa and her men, providing each a hefty tip for their services. In return Mane-Wa thanked Romy for her service to the military, and wished her luck that her court martial would not be painful.

    *****

    Night had fallen, and Romy was taking refuge in her favourite dive, a bar & grill called Bifrost. It started with some beers, then it turned into shots, then it turned into cocktails, then it went back to beers, before finally she found herself in a booth with a massive plate of nachos and an expensive bottle of whiskey on the way.

    The bartender, a friendly minotaur named Ozark, brought over the lotlite’s comfort, expressing concern as he set it all down, saying, “You’ve been drinking a lot there frills, don’t you think it’s time to go home?”

    Romy looked up from her table, and silently slide a bag of coins over to Ozark as a tip, saying something to the effect of “It’s my last day of being alive, all my creations are gone, I may as well enjoy myself,” slurring all the while from the amount she had drank.

    With a solemn nod the bartender left as Romy indulged in her mountain of cheese, carbs, and spicy treats, washing it down with huge glugs of bitter brown spirit. As the plate shrank in size and the bottle neared its end, she stood up, taking what was left of her whiskey with her.

    She walked out into the rain. It did not bother her, being amphibious meant she felt at as home in water as she did on land. She looked left, where she could walk home and face her fate when morning comes, and she looked right, where she had never walked before.

    It seemed like a good idea to go right tonight, so she did. Stumbling her way across the cobbled road, muttering to herself and sometimes singing a tune. She most certainly did not expect falling into a giant pit that seemed to have no end.

    *****

    How much time had passed? Where am I? Hey where did my booze go?!

    So many questions as Romy came to. Looking around, everything looked strange, weird, and mysterious. The world felt… wrong, almost. But she knew one thing.

    This world was her new beginning. A chance to start anew. A chance to improve herself. The life she once had was gone, but that does not necessarily mean her life was over. It would take a while for her to get back up to the knowledge she once had. Although that did not matter.

    Romy had been given a chance to craft once more. And she was not going to waste it this time.

    Inspiration

    Starting things off, yes, I know, Romy is incredibly overpowered, bordering into Mary Sue territory.

    However, considering this is her origin story and she has everything taken away from her right at the end to start afresh in a new world, I think it works, as she’ll develop new flaws, ideals, and bonds within this setting. Plus, the game she is in is where a lot of things are expected to be broken.

    For a brief synopsis, Romy is intended to be my character in an upcoming D&D game called “Multiverscape”, an idea concepted and that will be run by my good friend and longstanding DM Albert.

    The main concept of Multiverscape is the world is broken, and it is up to the party to put it back together. What is the world made of? Various media properties all mashed together into different areas, with several video game mechanics being present throughout the game itself.

    With such a massive scope to contend with, this is most likely going to be Albert’s Magnum Opus. They will definitely run games after this, and they may run ever better games after this, but Multiverscape is their most significant work. And they have my utmost faith to pull this off and make it great.

    Yes, I did roll for these

    One of the main defining traits of Multiverscape is that characters are created using Gestalt rules, where every character starts as a multiclass character, and is able to take simultaneous level ups within their two chosen classes. Romy is a full blown Intelligence character with classes to match.

    The first of which is Craftsman, created by Mage Hand Press. The main deal of Craftsman is the ability to work on items during long rests, either creating new items for half their cost in materials, or adding new and wonderful properties to existing items. The specific subclass I chose is the Mechanauts Guild, which gives me access to the Mechanauts Apparatus at Level 3, which, due to my Intelligence modifier, will be the equivalent to plate armour in terms of AC.

    The second class is a bit more obscure, Mechanist, created by Danik Shatterspear. Mechanist is essentially Mechanaut Craftsman in a different form, as I get the special armour at Level 1 as opposed to level 3, and I can customise it with upgrades as I go, using a system called “Mech Points” to allocate and exchange upgrades at long rests.

    Finally, Romy’s race is a bit of homebrew as well. She is a Lotlite, created by ComradeWalrus. And, in the very unlikely event that you read this… yes, I know I am breaking Lotlite naming convention by calling her “Romy Cuddlesocks-Squishycheeks”, but at the same time, there is an undeniable adorable badassness in a mech pilot with such a name.

    The main defining aspect of Romy’s character that is lifted from myself is her desire to create, and how her worth is defined by her creations. A lot of my self-esteem comes from my ability to create, and when I am unable to create or feel I need to force myself to create, this can lead to sadness.

    One brief thing to finish off, since Multiverscape is a setting meant to cross over many different properties, I have included a lot of references within the text of the story. Some from video games, and some from anime. Some are very in your face, and some are a bit more subtle/obscure. Let me know if you find any!

  • Marieya’s Friends

    Jump over that log. Roll into the landing. Keep moving.

    “Fuck!” Izumi said, grunting in pain as she tried to put pressure on the bleeding wound on her torso, a series of red puncture marks indicating a vicious bite, “No good bullshit bastarding bears…”

    Having embarked on an assassination mission that went wildly wrong; the shadow fey now desperately tried to flee her pursuers whilst in grave amounts of pain. Darting between twisted trees and through canopy clearings, she only briefly looked behind her to see if she was still being followed, roars and heavy stomps confirming her fears.

    Eventually she broke out of the forest into a large open plain, initially cursing the lack of hiding spots before noticing that someone had set up a camp on the forest outskirts. As she stumbled over she tried to assess if it was going to be friendly or not. The tent was large, and made of deep purple canvas fabric, similar to tents used by shadow fey ranging parties.

    Though this was no temporary encampment, for a makeshift fence had been built around the entrance to the tent, forming a cozy yard where a cooking pot, improvised washing line, and woodcutting station had been set up. As Izumi approached; no one came out of the tent to meet her, but at this point, the pain had become too great and she collapsed against the woodcutting log.

    The two bearfolk who had chased her all this way caught sight of her in this vulnerable position and began approaching slowly with weapons drawn, bearing their teeth in excitement of the kill. Closing her eyes, Izumi braced herself, waiting for the killing blow to come…

    …it then came as a surprise then when she heard the whoosh of an arrow, and a roar of pain coming from one of the two bears, who shortly fell to the ground, dead.

    “Excuse me,” a feminine voice said, sounding rather annoyed upon seeing the uninvited guests at her tent, “I’m sure you have a good reason for wanting that poor girl dead, but two things.” She nocked another arrow into her longbow and drew the bowstring back, “first, I’m not letting you kill a fellow shadow fey. Secondly, and more importantly, you’re trespassing on my house.”

    Letting out a snarl, the remaining bear turned to face the mysterious interloper and brandished their greatsword in a threatening manner. “You don’t need to die today girl,” he said, “but if you keep that bow pointed at me, this is getting ugly.”

    There was a brief pause as both sides stood ready to engage. “It’s already pretty ugly, considering I’m looking at you right now.”

    With that snarky comment pushing their rage to a breaking point; the bearfolk let out an intimidating war cry before charging his opponent. She let loose her arrow at him but quick reflexes allowed him to slash it to the side as he continued his advance, slowing slightly just a small distance from his target to raise the massive blade above his head to deliver a devastating downward slash.

    Fury soon became shock as the weapon bounced back off an intense red-hued magical shield that seemed to materialise instantly against the angle of attack. The girl smirked, “Shouldn’t have gone for the head.” Whilst the bearfolk was disoriented from the failure of their attack; she manifested crackling energy around her right hand and landed a perfect right hook, enhanced through the power of lightning.

    Bloodied and bruised, the aggressor collapsed to the ground, barely maintaining consciousness as they grunted in pain. Wasting no time the girl walked around the back of the bear whilst unsheathing a rapier, driving it through the base of the bear’s skull, killing them instantly.

    Ambling back towards her camp the girl cast two bolts of fire, setting the dead bearfolk alight and making sure they would not be coming back. She leaned down to inspect the semi-conscious Izumi, closely examining her wound, “Can you hear me?”

    The rogue groaned as she opened her eyes. “Yeah…” she said, her voice strained as she looked at her saviour, “who… who are you?” The girl smiled as she quickly dipped into her tent and grabbed medical supplies, “My name’s Marieya Ebontide, yours?”

    “It’s Izumi… first name basis only please.”

    “Sure, no worries,” Marieya said as she sliced off Izumi’s clothes and started patching up the wound, “how the hell did you get a bite like this?”

    “Gah… sent to assassinate a bearfolk commander, got into the encampment fine, and then as I prepared to slash the fucker open I kicked a stool over and they saw me, with the bastard you nailed with an arrow biting down hard.”

    “Ouch, that really must’ve hurt. Surprised you made it all the way to my camp.”

    “What can I say? I’m a stubborn bitch who can surviv-oh shit that stuff burns!”

    “Oh quit complaining, it’s just to clean the bite of any dirt that might’ve got in there.”

    Izumi rolled her eyes back as Marieya continued to tend to the wound, cleaning it out completely before wrapping her torso in bandages. “There we go,” she said, making sure everything was secure, “you’re all patched up, but you’re welcome to stay the night to rest up properly.”

    “Thanks, I guess” Izumi said, following Marieya into her tent, “these are some pretty swanky digs you got here, who you sharing with?”

    Marieya looked slightly forlorn as she sat on a stool, gathering some food up, “Oh, no one…” she said, her voice lowering and sounding slightly upset, “I’m uh… kind of reviled for my powers by most shadow sorcerers… and people generally… so I just live out my days as a hermit.”

    “Shit, sorry for asking,” Izumi said, lying back on a bedroll. “So you got no real friends then?”

    “Not quite,” Marieya said, using another bolt of fire to light her cooking pot outside, raising her voice again to be able to converse properly, “I have a handful of friends, I’m on good terms with the ranging parties, the great ranger Vardal usually makes my camp a rest stop.”

    Shifting on her stool slightly, Izumi adopted a look of unease, “Vardal huh… may have had a few worrying run-ins with the guy.”

    “Good run-ins or bad run-ins?” Marieya said as she dumped some large chunks of onion and quartered mushrooms into the pot, sizzling as they hit the hot cast iron.

    “Both really. We’ve worked together on some ranging missions, where I’ve helped clear out guards from an encampment. But also my employer has a bad habit of asking me to kill folks Vardal needs to bring back alive.” 

    Izumi hobbled close to the tent entrance and took a long, deep, inhale. “Fuck me,” she said loudly, peering over into the cooking pot, “that smells great already!”

    As she added a bit of salt, pepper, and crushed garlic, Marieya giggled as she stirred things round. “Yeah, when you have to become mostly self-sufficient, you learn a few good things about cooking.”

    “Mostly?” Izumi said with curiosity, sitting down on the woodcutting stump as Marieya worked.

    “Yeah, I gather vegetables and go fishing down by the river for freshwater prawns,” and as if on cue, several peeled prawns were added to the pot, “but more luxurious things like seasonings, bread, cheese, and wine I get whenever Vardal comes by or when Ancil comes to visit.”

    “Pardon the fuck?” the rogue said, raising her voice so much a flock of birds flew off, “Ancil? As in, the legendary pit fighter Ancil?”

    “The very same, they were training in the forest as I was gathering one day. We got to chatting and despite being a stoic person, I really got to know them. We’ve been friends ever since, definitely my longest-standing friend too.”

    Izumi looked at Marieya in complete shock, her mouth agape as the meal was finished with a knob of butter and a sprinkling of fresh parsley. “The Marieya special”, she said, handing a plate full of garlicky prawns and vegetables over, “simple, wholesome comfort food.”

    The pair joyfully shared the lovingly prepared food together, Izumi telling more stories of the different jobs she had been sent on and listening intently as Marieya shared as many stories about Ancil as she could recall before they retired back to the tent for a good night’s rest.

    A dusky morning shined over the tent as Marieya gave her new friend a final check on her wounds before sending her on her way, with the promise of good food and shelter if she ever needed it.

    Marieya thought to her herself, “this… is a pleasant memory.”

    *****

    Awakening from her trance, Marieya sighed and looked across her current travelling companions, before smiling to herself. “You guys really are some of the best friends I could ask for.”

    Inspiration

    What’s this? A Marieya story where I end on a positive note? What is this heresy! (Ignore the fact that all other named characters in this story are canonically dead.)

    My main goal with this story was developing the character of Izumi primarily, and going through the process of Marieya making a new friend through sheer serendipity.

    When writing Marieya pre-incident, I lean heavily into a line from the Sorcerer Tweaked homebrew I acquired her origin from. “Such sorcerers are wanderers by necessity … If a fire breaks out in town, a phoenix sorcerer had best flee, whether guilty or not.”

    I’ve tried to strike a balance with Marieya in this makeshift forest camp she makes a home in. From the way she talks about having no one to share with, I wanted to evoke the feeling of being an outcast. When no one comes around to visit; she is truly alone in this world.

    However, she is more than an outcast. She laments the scenario her powers create, but she does not allow herself to fall into despair completely (marking a contrast to her post-incident character). Able to survive, care, and nurture her abilities away from the influence of magical colleges, she is thriving as a solitary individual.

    This is why she hits it off so well with Izumi, because she does not push further onto a sensitive issue once she realises she has hit a nerve. She instead chooses to get to know her mysterious saviour, sharing a meal with her and finding out more about how someone goes about living in this scenario.

    I had initially planned to include meetings with Ancil and Vardal as part of the story, but felt that for showing how someone like Marieya developed a friendship would be more informative to her character. Izumi herself is loosely based off Kainé from NieR:Gestalt/Replicant, specifically taking the brash personality traits and rapid-fire rude mouth.

    Once again, I am going to end off with some amazing art from my mate Brett (Bretticus.Llewellyn.art on Instagram – seriously, go follow this beautiful chap. He’s made my stupid ideas come true.)

    With a story focused on friends, few things could be more appropriate than the disaster duo of Honesty and Marieya rocking shades, looking away from an explosion like the badass buddies they are.

  • Marieya’s Grief – Part II

    The…

    The battle was long, a lot of people had come out to join us and try to assist in fighting off Cunning in the crab tank. Fauna… Fauna had taken a torpedo straight to her body and had collapsed, in the panic I forgot all about stabilising her and just focused on running with Honesty.

    You failed once more…

    Even when Honesty went down, I didn’t help him… I was so incensed in the moment that all I did was pray to Seggotan for guidance, beseeching that his power keep us all going… that maybe, just maybe, he could help save Vantar from death.

    Little Marieya, slowly losing all her friends again. One. By. One.

    I thought we had won! I thought that after putting that crab, machine, thing out of action that we’d have been able to get the soul gem back, but somewhere along the way, or even when Cunning was in the machine, it got cracked. Meaning that he was gone. Gone forever.

    And you did noth-

    Get out of my goddamn head! We tried, I tried, all of us tried to be the heroes in this story. Travelling far and wide to work towards a solution, risking life, limb, and all manner of dangerous monsters. We tried our best, and after all this time, our family can never be reunited again.

    Reaching into her bag, Marieya grabs a large tome, gold etched writing on the front displays the title as “A Definitive History of the World: As told by Mharoti Scholars”. The book is the Mharoti Empire’s retelling of history, making things appear more favourable to their causes in the hope of sowing dissent amongst other cities and nations.

    She didn’t care for the book, she had plenty of opportunity to sell it at Prawn’s Pawn whilst she was offloading plenty of other such items. However, for all the pain and misery the dragons had brought her, in the back of the book was some writing

    One paragraph read, “Izumi… Vardal… Ancil… Charax… I miss all of you… I hope one day we can be reunited, and on that day… I can tell you how sorry I am for letting you down.”

    Another, written just below: “Marieya, you have a duty to protect your new friends. Honesty may be anything but, and Vantar seems to be going along with whatever schemes he has cooking. Jorgen is mildly antisocial but seems to be screwed on straight, and Fauna… well Fauna seems okay actually. But you need to know, keeping these people safe and close to you will help you to see how much better life can get.”

    Grabbing a quill and some ink from a nearby nightstand, Marieya scribbled a little bit to make sure she had got the ink on right, before going to write a new paragraph.

    “Vantar… is gone now. For everything we did, we couldn’t save him. I tried to comfort Honesty in the moment, but, he needed to be alone. Goddamnit… I should’ve stuck around anyway, I know what it’s like to feel the loss of friends, I know what it’s like and I failed to help anyway.”

    A tear dropped down onto the page and more soon followed, as Marieya tried to suppress her sobbing to avoid waking up the others before moving onto another paragraph.

    “Is this what the life of an exiled phoenix is? No… I’m not a phoenix. Phoenix’s are majestic, honourable, with the misfortune I’ve brought to everyone around me I’m more like an albatross around their neck.”

    She slammed a gloved hand into her face hard, the sound travelling through the room but not stirring anyone who was asleep.

    “I have to stay with them, when I told Honesty that we’re family, I meant it. Sometimes though, families have those who are not the most welcome and I know I’m on my way towards that. If it comes to it, I’ll sacrifice myself for them. Maybe in death I can earn a smidge of redemption, and finally get a chance to be useful.”

    Clasping her hands around the back of her head; Marieya allowed herself a few brief moments of unrestrained bawling. Keeping the noise to a minimum, she allowed herself the relief that comes with crying, letting all the negative feelings and emotions that had been boiling up through the aftermath of the battle out, before finalising her writings with a short sentence.

    “Even in death, you are still my friend. Goodbye Vantar.”

    Seggotan, lord of the sea and mentor of the waves… please, I beg of you, protect Vantar’s soul as he drifts through the tide, he is not one of yours, but I ask you to guide him to the other side. And please…

    Don’t make me bury anyone else.

    Inspiration – Content Warning

    (Note to my DM, Albert: You handled this session amazingly friendo, the battle was tense, enjoyable, and ended up being a good level of difficulty despite original intentions. The preceding work and proceeding explanation is no bearing on your ability to tell a story… this is something I needed to write for me.)

    This entire session was not going to be easy, we were up against an enemy we had never encountered before, and even then, we all knew that our efforts were going to be in vain. A lot of this campaign had been dedicated to getting a Gearforged party member revived, when the player decided not to continue with the campaign, it left a dilemma of how to resolve things. Rather than having a character change for the person playing Honesty, it was decided that killing off Vantar would be better.

    Now… that is why it was difficult for the characters and scenario, but, this fight ended up taking a toll on me mentally as well. Admittedly, the fact that Marieya is very much a projection of myself did not make anything better.

    In the lead up to this session, one of my closest friends had gone through some grief, and because of how close I was to the person he was grieving for, I felt a lot of similar feelings as well… and it took a lot to try resolve my “feeling bad about feeling bad”. I had locked into a mindset that because he had way more reason to grieve, I should just shut up and lock everything inside. It took a late night vent, some reassurance from friends, and a lot of virtual explosions to pull me out of that rut.

    However, there was something else as well. About two days before the session, I had my personal issues regarding abandonment triggered by an event within a social circle (since I know these people may also read this blog, this is also nothing on you), which meant that losing Vantar in the session really ended up hitting a nerve hard around my own loneliness.

    I feel I really struggle with making and keeping friends sometime, some of it conscious, some of it blissfully unaware until it is way too late, which is why when I am presented with the possibility of having friends fade from my life things start to go a bit haywire. Tried to portray that with Marieya, especially through the line:

    “Even in death, you are still my friend. Goodbye Vantar.”

    Even when people fade from my life, and for all the memory problems I have, the good times I have with friends will always remain, and I can hold that close as a memory of positivity.

    To try end this off on a more positive note, I am going to showcase some art my friend Brett (and Honesty’s player) did in the lead up to this session, involving the party reacting to the scenario. He absolutely nailed the reference expression for Marieya I gave him along with making her incredibly beautiful even in sadness. His instagram is bretticus.llewellyn.art if you want to check him out.