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' grog smartjaw... ' name is repeated, allowed to sit in the air before his brow furrows as he stares at the wizard. ' but...my name is strongjaw. why would they call me smartjaw ? '
DU HAST DOCH KEINE AHNUNG!“ Caleb yelled in his mother tongue, there was pain in his voice, a spark of flame flickered and danced along his fingertips, dangerously close to igniting. But how could the wizard start to explain the extent of his secrets, all the things he‘d done and now tried to undo, they all hid things, were initially mistrusting of each other.
He drew himself up, despite the dirty clothes and mud spread on his face. He didn‘t reach Fjords height. „We all have secrets better left untouched, and don‘t tell me about keeping things in. You‘re just the same, so is Beau, so is Yasha, even Jester. Don‘t come on to me and try to talk me into talking, I don‘t judge you for keeping your secrets.“ The zemnian patted his fingers against his coat, occupieing them. His arm hurt beneath the bandages, phantom pain and memories, all of it but he couldn‘t stop, couldn‘t disclose any of the things they‘d done.
He took a few deep breath, then pinched the bridge of his nose. „Entschuldige… I‘m sorry. I shouldn‘t have yelled like this.“
the yell has the half-orc flinching. between that and the flame that flickered along his fingertips, fjord was ready for the man to set the room ablaze. he watches as the wizard stands tall, not quite reaching his height as he does so, but standing his ground. there was a pride in his chest at the action, watching the other stand up for himself after seeming to be so passive in many situations as of late.
' you don't judge me, no. and i don't judge you either. ' secrets were part of all of them and he knew that asking caleb to open up when he hadn't was foolish. it wasn't fair to him when he was hiding his own things deep down that he wanted no one to ask him about. hell, he had put on a whole new persona and was lying about who he really was to them all.
fjord sits quietly before shaking his head. ' no, 's alright. that's on me, not on you. i'm sorry for pushing. '
Yasha shook her head. „No it doesn‘t. It‘s honestly soothing at times.“ Her gaze turned contemplative, almost distant as she remembered the way she still missed her friend who had been able to quell her anger and made her feel less lost.
„I can‘t help but feel angry all the time now… just rage at the world and that I can‘t change fate or circumstance.“ It was the most honest Yasha had been to herself or anyone… she‘d promised herself to make an effort and asking Caduceus seemed like the logical step. He seemed always calm and collected and at peace with the making of the world and the path it took.
„What would happen if you weren‘t calm?“ She asked, curious.
at least there was that. caduceus sits back a little in his seat, hands settling into his lap as he listens to her. he didn't mind when the others came to talk to him, when they wanted to release their worries into the air that surrounded him. he enjoyed being the person they could talk to.
' anger is natural. especially given what you carry with you. ' he didn't know the entire story, but he had been privy to a few conversations where she'd opened up about her past and what she had dealt with.
and then a hum before the firbolg smiles. ' i just think everyone would be at a loss if i lost my calm. i think everyone has become reliant on having the rock. ' which he was certainly more than okay with.
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Pike flinched, her face apologetic and turned up towards her friend. „I‘m sorry buddies. I don‘t have much juice left. I‘ll try my best okay?“ The edges of the wound were jagged, not a clean cut. It might leave a scar if not healed magically but she‘d already taken care of other injuries and was running low on magic.
The gnome hopped up, gripping her symbol of the everlight and held out her hand. „Come on, Everlight, please.“ There was a flicker of golden light, much weaker then Pike would have liked. Sometimes she questioned if her faith was strong enough, that if she held more devotion her own magic would be stronger and she could help her friends better but healing always came with a price, an exhaustion that lasted bone deep, sometimes for a period of time, though Pike wouldn‘t tell that to anyone not even Grog.
Painfully slow the wound started closing, not all the way but it stemmed the bleeding before Pike had to stop, double over and huff. „Whoa… Next time, maybe not get into a fight with a boar twice your size.“ Though they did have a nice dinner now. „Sorry, that‘s all I got. Rest needs to be poking. Just to get you wrapped up and some healing stuff smeared on the cut. It should be fine, okay?“
he feels bad as she says that. she'd been working double time to heal everyone during the battle to make sure that no one died immediately. it was only because of her that they'd managed to make it out of the battle as it was. his eyes close as she stops poking at him, a soft sigh escaping the goliath at the relief he feels.
with eyes closed, he doesn't notice the flicker of light, doesn't notice the exhaustion on her face or in her body. even with them open, he's in enough pain that he probably wouldn't notice it either. it's not long before he feels the familiar warmth of her magic over his skin and he can tell that it's working. he's already starting to feel better as the bleeding stops.
an eye cracks open as he looks down at her. ' sorry, pikey. ' but truthfully, he wasn't all that sorry. he enjoyed the thrill of the fight more than he could express in words. it made him feel good to tackle enemies, especially if they were bigger and stronger like the boar had been. a pout forms at her next words but he sighs, nodding his head. ' alright. if ya half t'. '
Vex paused, the words stung, and gods she should just turn around and go right back to sulking with her bear in front of his door. It was his tone that didn't let her leave the bitterness that cut nearly as deep as her guilt though not as deep. This was her fault and Percy had every right to be angry with her.
In the end worry won and the halfelf opened the door to what she assumed was the gunslingser's bedroom, however, as the door opened she had to bite her lip not to chuckle. Percy lay face down on the hardwood floor, just missing the carpet around his bed. It looked ridiculous though she didn't mention that.
"Gods, Percy..." Vex hissed. There was no one more stubborn then him, at least no one she had met in their years of traveling together. He had means of calling for help, he was supposed to stay put and rest but no, here he was trying to make his way god knows where and it landed him face first on the ground. "Are you alright?" She asked, forgoing her usual term of endearment. Her muscle memory wanted to reach out and hold him, kiss him senseless, make sure he was alright and other things Vex better left silent in the back of her mind.
"You aren't even supposed to be out of bed. Cassandra will be livid." She helped him turn and pull up to lean against the side of his bed, still sitting on the floor before Vex put a bit of distance between them. "What were you thinking?!" Now her worry was starting to shine through, her voice turning sharp as if she was angry at him for being foolish.
he doesn't try to hide how upset he is with the whole situation. being dead and resurrected wasn't something that anyone else had gone through in their group, they wouldn't understand what he's going through. but if someone was going to at least listen and try to, it would have been vex. but she'd made the choice to avoid him and that just made him more bitter than dying had.
he can sense her laughter, even if she doesn't let it out. percy is sure it looks ridiculous but there's nothing that he can do about it. this was simply the position that he was in.
' i'm fine. ' a curt response as he lays there, waiting for her to leave him be so that he can get up in quite the undignified manner. to his surprise, however, she helps him up, turns him around and leans him against the bed. he doesn't meet her gaze but notes the way she backs off almost immediately.
a snort of annoyance leaves him. ' yes my sister is usually livid when i do not listen to her. ' he shifts, palms flat against the floor as he moves to settle more comfortably against the bed. ' as for what i was thinking, i don't think it matters much, now does it ? ' he still refuses to look at her, staring straight ahead at the wall instead. her anger only burns his own but he keeps it kept under wraps for the time being. ' you may leave, vex'ahlia. i will be quite fine on my own. ' and if he wasn't, he could call for his sister.
name. zinrie meliamne
nickname. zin
age. 95 ( appears early 20s )
gender. female ( she/her )
orientation. biromantic bisexual
race. wood elf
hair. brown
eyes. green
height. 5'9"
class. ranger ( beast master / wolf companion named nymph )
proficient in. animal handling, athletics, insight, nature, perception, survival
languages. common, common sign language, elvish, giant
having been raised in the woods, zinrie found herself at tune with nature. her parents taught her the ways of the woods, making sure that they taught her things like what was edible, what was safe to touch, and the dangers that lurked within the trees. one of the other things they taught her was how to use a bow. it was the best way for her to travel through the forest and have a way of taking down dangers without getting into direct danger herself.
the older she got, the more she started to truly lean into the forest and the ways that it exists. she became in tune with the things going on around her, learned how to explore without needing to worry about a guide. and then one day, she was in the midst of a battle and when calling for aid, managed to summon forth a world that took down some of the enemies in front of her, giving her a chance to notch an arrow into her bow and aim it for the last enemy.
from that moment on, the two worked together to travel through the forest together. she learned that nymph ( the name she'd given the creature ) was not of the material plane pretty quickly and that if she disappeared, she could bring her back. it made it easier to travel knowing her companion could never truly die.
she sticks to the woodlands, wandering through them and exploring at her own pace. when stumbling across adventurers that need a guide through the particular area she's in, she offers a hand. it's the least she can do when she knows the terrain so well.
name. haze
nickname. the smile-less one
age. 28
gender. nonbinary ( they/them )
orientation. demiromantic demisexual
race. air genasi
hair. white
eyes. heterochromatic ( right blue / left purple )
height. 5'4"
class. warlock ( archfey patron / zybilna )
proficient in. arcana, deception, insight, investigation, perception, stealth, survival
languages. common, primordial, sylvan
born to an elven woman who had fallen in love with a djinn, haze was a miracle to behold and the only lingering presence the woman had to her lover that vanished shortly after their night together that had resulted in their conception. she called them their little miracle and showered them in affection day in and day out to make up for the fact that they only had the one parent.
haze was a little ball of energy as a child, always running here and there and floating around much to their mother's dismay. they were never up to mischief necessarily but rather wanted to explore the world around them, always finding it fascinating. their mother was terrified about letting them wander too far, not wanting them to disappear as their father had. haze tended to do as their mother said, staying close to their home so as to not worry her too much. but one day, there were people passing by talking about a carnival that was coming to town. their excitement was monumental and they begged and begged their mother to let them go. but she refused, not wanting them to get lost in such a crowded place. disappointed, haze found themselves deciding to take go anyway, even if their mother didn't want them to. they'd go and be back before she ever knew they were gone.
the problem was, of course, that haze had not thought about the fact they would need money for a ticket to get into the carnival. and so they waited for the opportunity and snuck inside without paying. it was everything they had hoped it would be as they wandered through, nothing but childlike wonder in their eyes. their smile was wide and bright, a glowing beacon in the darkness of the night.
that smile didn't last as the night went on. they couldn't tell you what had happened but at some point, the smile dimmed and eventually extinguished like a candle at bedtime. no matter how many attempts at smiling they made, it was impossible. their face stayed firmly straight without even a twitch. frightened, they went looking for help, stumbling upon the owners of the carnival who were not helpful at all. they couldn't possibly go home, couldn't possibly face their mother like this. and then they heard it. voices calling out this way and that.
being a young child, they didn't think better of wandering off to follow the voices, of wandering into places they didn't belong. after some wandering, they found themselves within the feywild, though they had no name for the strange place they were looking at. fearful, they tried to backtrack to find their way back to the carnival but found themselves at a loss when they merely circled back to the place they'd started from.
they sit there on the ground, knees pulled to chest for what feels like ages until they hear a noise that sends them running only for them to run into a pair of fairies. the fairies look down at this child and immediately decide to take them in, to protect them from the more gruesome parts of the wilds. as much as haze wants to leave, wants to get back to their mother who will be worried sick by their absence, they decide sticking with these fairies is the better idea than risking whatever had been in the woods.
and that's how things go for a few years. thankfully, his mother had warned them of the fae, had given them a few tips on how to handle them. the two looking after them had taken to calling them 'haze' simply because they refused to ever give up their name ( the first rule their mother had ever taught them ). as the years passed, their real identity was lost to them, their real name slipping from their mind the longer they spent in this place. haze became their identity and they were okay with it. their new fairy parental figures always tried to give them a good life, always wanted to make them feel better about their fate. they always took their no smiling as something that was due to the circumstances they found themselves in but haze themselves knew that the carnival had taken it somehow. it haunted them for a while, but after a few years, they found themselves not worrying about it so much, deciding that this was simply their fate.
after a few years, however, they realized they didn't want to stay within the feywild. they wanted to leave, wanted to get back to the material plane, back to their mother who they could only remember faintly. it was while they were looking for a way to do so that a new fairy they had never seen before appeared. she introduced herself as zybilna and offered a way to get home, to get free. skeptical, haze asked for further clarification, asked for what she got out of things. she simply told them that they would have a partnership and that she would call upon them when needed but that they would have great power bestowed upon them for doing so. feeling like there was no other option, they agreed.
granting them powers, zybilna helped to open a way for them to get home, telling them to walk along a path straight forward and to not stray from it lest they end up trapped again. not wanting to risk being trapped any longer, they give a small thanks and take off down the path set before them. they aren't sure when things change from the feywild to the woods of the material plane again but soon enough they can hear carts moving along a road pulled by horses trotting along. they make their way towards the road and find themselves on the edge of a small town. they find their way there, nothing more than a young teen looking to try and find their way home.
they discover where they have ended up and seek out help to try and find their way back to their hometown, wanting to get back to their mother who would likely have gone crazy looking for them the past few years. it takes some time for them to earn some money doing a few odd jobs for people around town before they're able to get someone to agree to bring them to the town they hail from.
it takes some travel time, but eventually they arrive. they make their way through streets once familiar to them to a home that sits upon a hill. but when they approach, they find a family that does not belong to them living within. they try to ask about their mother, try to describe her, but it's been so long the details are lost to them. they can't even recall her name. they excuse themselves, apologize for bothering the people, and leave as quickly as they arrived.
lost and unsure what to do now, haze finds themselves once more unsure of what to do, of where to go. but as they rest along the rode beneath a tree, zybilna's voice rings in their ear as if she were sitting beside them. they could easily make a name for themself, easily move forward and make a life with their new skills. and so they decide that they will do just that as they learn to once more live within the material plane. they do odd jobs, join up with adventuring parties to help out, do anything they can with their new powers to earn money and make a small name for themself. something that many find odd, however, is that no matter the occasion, haze never smiles. they soon become 'the smile-less one', a nickname they just shrug off. they aren't sure why they don't smile, aren't entirely sure what makes it so hard for them to do so even in situations where it calls for such.
one morning, after being greeted by their nickname, that they feel this sharp pang in their chest of loss. they feel as though the loss of their smile needs to be remedied, needs to be corrected. and it's then they remember the carnival, feel the need to revisit and reclaim what was once taken from them. and so they set out on a hunt of figuring out where the carnival will next be. they ask for guidance from zybilna, ask for help in locating the carnival. but there is no response. unlike the usual quickness of a response they get, there is nothing but silence in return.
it's been a year now and not only have they not heard from her, but they haven't felt her presence either. on top of finding the carnival to find what once was lost, they also wish to find a way to the feywilds once more to find her, to check in and see what's happening and figure out why she's lost to them.
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battle hardened features soften with the offer of a tune tailored to her faith. it would seem that the matter of faith and loyalty to the gods is rather sensitive to some, one never knows when someone will react poorly and snap — not this time though, no. zuriel instinctively pulls out the pendant hidden beneath her armor bearing the holy symbol of lathander, the gold and rose god. “the morninglord,” she offers with a gentle smile. “though a song would be appreciated even if you don't know any about him. so much more pleasant than the noise of people fighting.”
faith didn't bother her. everyone found something to believe in and for some that meant turning to the gods. there was nothing wrong with that in her opinion. ' the morninglord... ' she remembered a few songs once back at the beginning of her musical career. carefully, she strums her lute. ' how about 'the morning's promise' ? ' without waiting for confirmation, she begins to play a little tune. soon enough, words follow suit. it's a lively little tune, one that speaks of the joy of waking up to a new day and the opportunities that may come with such.
chult is hell - the constant buzz of insects, the sickly sweet stench of sweat, the oppressively thick and heavy air, and the constant threats lurking in every shadow. from the moment the boat landed, the constant chatter and unrelenting stimulation of the peninsula has had the ranger in a foul mood and the jungle has done little to calm it. this simply isn’t the sort of place where relaxation is possible and it’s certainly not for the faint of heart. one wrong move could result in death and death is a painfully permanent thing these days.
that’s why, she lies to herself as her toy with the red scarf about her neck, surina’s pervasive distractedness is so offensive. “ i thought you of all people would have learned the consequences of inattention. ” the words come out with an edge of venom, sharp green eyes jerking out towards the unending darkness beyond the edges of their camp, “ can you be trusted to find the presence of mind to take a shift for guard duty tonight, or will i wake in the morning to find moss claimed by the jungle because of your lack of awareness ? ”
it takes everything in her not to flinch. once some of the closest of friends, now every conversation or meeting ended up like this. she knows why it was that way but that doesn't make it hurt any less. she misses her friend, misses having normal conversations. but she also knows that it's too much to ask for. a hand moves up, rubbing the back of her neck as she clears her throat.
' i can be trusted. ' guard was the one thing she found herself still good at. it was easy, was simple, and most importantly: it was solitary. the other two would sleep peacefully while she watched the jungle to make sure that nothing came to harm the two people she held most dear. ' nothing will come for moss or you in the night. ' not while she was there to protect them. she refuse to lose anyone else. never again. her throat clears before she looks around. ' ...think we have enough kindling for the night ? '
wood elf ranger who has spent most of her life in the woods exploring and hunting. beast master i think. with a wolf companion. gotta delve a little more to really feel her out but !
and then the warlock is a steam genasi, cool homebrew race. was whisked away to the fey realm as a child and only recently has reemerged into the regular world. their patron is an archfey, of course, to keep on theme. haven't decided who yet though. but yeah !!
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was looking through my google docs for something and came across a whole doc that outlines a whole continent that i was starting to build for a homebrew adventure i wanted to dm
surina has regressed in terms of opening up to others. she started her life being told she needed to be stalwart and focus more on protecting the clan and making sure they had enough provisions at all times. and then as a merc she started to open up a little every time someone thanked her for her help.
when she met cassian, he was quick to pull her out of her shell. there was something about him that really just brought her into who she truly could be. watching him die, holding his hand as he took his final breath, wrecked her. it broke something deep inside of her that she hadn't realized was even there in the first place. she was never in love with cassian, but she did love him. he was the first person to ever see her as more than just a means to an end. he was the first person to see her as a friend.
after he died, she retreated back into herself. she didn't know how to handle what happened, didn't know how to handle the grief. but closing off felt like the right path. by the time she realized that she should have opened up to those around her, she was too late. there was too much to try and handle that she just decided to bury it all and pretend that it didn't bother her as much as it did.
of course, this means that it festers in the back of her mind, but she ignores it anyway. she takes all the mean things that utisha hurls at her as punishment and as a way to deal with it best she can. and when that isn't enough she throws herself into battle full force whenever a fight presents itself.
in general though, she's not anywhere near as open as she used to be. she keeps her mind on the here and now, on whatever the next mission or job is. because if she doesn't she'll be left alone with her thoughts and she doesn't know how to handle that.