#kintsugi fic

Stiles - the forever GM. He has encyclopedic knowledge of the rules and he's not afraid to use it, but he is willing to bend them if his players try something really clever or funny and then make an abysmal roll. Has been trying to get Scott to play for years to no avail, but once Isaac was on board, Scott followed. Created an entire homebrew world after finding tiny but unforgivable icks about all the canon campaigns - the inevitable fate of anyone who spends as many hours as he does researching anything he finds remotely interesting. Draws his own maps, uses different voices for each NPC, has enough sets of dice to open his own game shop, and gives an inspiration bonus to any player who shows up in cosplay.

Isaac - plays a completely different character for every campaign and loves them all equally. Writes elaborate backstories during character creation and is super embarrassed about how geeky that makes him look until Stiles finds out and starts weaving them into the plot hooks and encounters. First ever character was an elf ranger with a falcon animal companion based on Tristan from the 2004 King Arthur movie, which nobody called him out for because he said he'd seen it with Cam. Brings everyone's character sheets to each session and keeps them all organized by campaign in an accordion binder.

Scott - refused to play all the times Stiles asked before because he didn't think he'd understand the rules enough to make it fun for Stiles, but ultimately got persuaded when Isaac joined and Stiles designed a druid character for him as a last ditch attempt to convince him. Unironically thinks Wild Shape is the coolest ability in the game and refuses to play any other class, although he sometimes plays other races. Designated person in charge of procuring snacks for game night. Character sheet is a mess of eraser marks and marginalia that nobody else can read, but he's having a great time. Makes friends with every single NPC they meet, to the point that Stiles started making some of them recurring encounters.

Allison - invited by Scott, agreed to play because she thought it would irritate her dad, only to discover he had a complete set of books for older versions because "sometimes the lore is surprisingly accurate." Despite most of them assuming she'd play a ranger, much prefers to play rogues. The first player to use a special voice for a character, for which Stiles wrote her a personalized magical item. Stays in character the entire session and likes to 100% every area. Draws portraits of all the party members for Stiles to use as initiative trackers.

Lydia - actually invited herself because "I'm not letting you guys play a game about math without me." Takes incredibly detailed notes and sends everyone a recap summary before the next session. The closest thing to a min-maxer in the party, purely for the challenge of creating the most mathematically perfect characters, but has very good game sense and never makes the other players feel underutilized. Stiles lets her create stat blocks for enemy NPCs. Doesn't do voices, but wears thematic outfits. Prefers magic users, always chaotic neutral. So good at solving puzzles and riddles that Stiles had to rewrite an entire dungeon just to stump her.

“Is the pain back? We can delay your Trials if you need healing.” The master bowed their head, their yellow lekku slipping around their shoulders to fall to the front. They wore combat robes, which could mean that they would proctor the Trial of Skill, but could mean nothing at all.

Ria shook her head, her padawan braid slapping her mouth and the back of her neck. “No, I would like to start now.” Once she was a knight, she’d never have see Master Breda again or drink her horrific flower tisanes. Once she was a knight, she could leave Tython and never return. Once she was a knight, she’d be free.

“As you like.” The master pressed a code into a keypad: aurek, three, four, dorne, zero, six. The door opened with a hiss, but the chamber on the other side was dark and illusioned so she could not see inside. Passing into the chamber could be part of the test itself.

Ria closed her eyes and let the feel of the Force take over her senses. Force energy leaked out of the walls and the ground and from the very core of the planet that soaked up millenia of Force techniques. It flowed through her like so much water until only the dregs remained. The dregs being whatever stupid techniques were used on the room to obscure the contents. With claws of will, she tore through the spell.

When she opened her eyes, the room was still only lit by the light from the hallway, but she could see a few steps in. Intuition gave her no warnings, so Ria stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her. Her boots scraped loudly against the floor tiles, but the sound was wrong. The vibrations bounced off something she couldn’t see or Sense. She slipped a black, kilik silk eyepatch over her rebuilt eye and then cupped her hands. They siphoned ambient Force out of the air until she had a glowing pool of energy between her palms.

She threw the energy deeper into the room where it splashed against the walls and floor before settling like bioluminescent gel. Nothing revealed itself. She sang a note; well, she tried to. It warbled and fluttered like a fletchling making its first tenuous flight, but that was thanks to her own inability to sing rather than whatever remained hidden from her. Like the footsteps, the discordant notes bounced wrong. Her ears warred with her eyes, insisting there was some kind of dampener or sound-proofing directly ahead.

The first dispel had already failed, so what options did she have left? Walking into it face-first seemed like a bad idea. She could try going around it, but her hearing wasn’t especially sensitive. Whatever it was hadn’t responded to her poor attempt at a solid note, which suggested talking to it wouldn’t help, but it might. What she really wanted to do was strike with her vibrosword, but she suspected that was a one-way trip to reeducation, along with using the Force to choke the air out of the area. Without taking her eye off the empty space, Ria knelt and felt around the floor tiles for a pebble or something else she could throw.

Her groping fingers found something metallic. She felt around it with both hands, trying to identify the item without sight. A battery pack. Her forehead wrinkled as she narrowed her eyes, the right one still under the eyepatch. She could throw the battery. Or she could use her brain and figure out what stupidly obvious device had been left in the room for her to power. The only thing that kept her from saying “Hur, dur, I’m a Jedi why do I need electronics” was the high probability that she was being recorded. Like a shaclaw, she walked sideways to the wall and patted it down for something in need of power. She made it three quarters of the way around the room before finding a wall sconce.

The battery pack slid up through a slit in the bottom and activated a blue, polarizing light. It revealed Master Shakyu kneeling in a meditation posture, his yellow eyes with their slit pupils trained on her. He rose to his feet and nodded. “Well done. You have passed the Trial of Insight.”

Ria gestured around the room, where her Force gel or whatever had nearly dissipated. “Can you even make polarized light with the Force?”

“Some can, but you’re right to assume it’s difficult.” He pointed to the lamp. “And your energy is much better served turning on a light.”

“Does this turn into the Trial of Spirit if they don’t figure it out, or is it just a straight failure?” She pulled off the eyepatch and blinked as her eye adjusted to the light. She stuck her thumbs under the sash tying her over robe together.

“If a padawan assumes it is the Trial of Spirit and begins to meditate, yes. If they guess correctly it is the Trial of Insight, but fail to find a solution, it is a failure.”

That was stupid. Being completely wrong was rewarded, while realizing the problem and then that the challenge was beyond them was a failure. A sneer fought against the placid expression on Ria’s face. She could lambaste the idiocy at the top of her lungs once she was free. “I see.”