“Long time no see! How’re you holding up?” “You clearly weren’t expecting me.” “I came here to help you, but if you’d rather I hadn’t, I will leave you alone again.” “I thought I’d just stop by and see how you were doing… It’s been a while.” “You’ve been quiet lately.” “How are you? Honestly. Don’t give me the usual crap.” “Why’re you sitting here all by yourself?” “This is supposed to be a party. You are supposed to dance, not sulk.” “Has nobody come to see you?” “Do you want me to leave?” “When’s the last time you went outside?” “Do you even want to see anyone?” “You seem lonely…” “Don’t you have any friends?” “I don’t mind keeping you company.” “Do you really have this place all to yourself?” “Maybe if you tried being nice every once in a while you would actually have people who cared about you.” “I’d visit you more often if I had the time…” “I am your friend. You’ve got me.” “Are you lonely?” ———- “I just want to be left alone.” “I’ve been so alone.” “You’re the first person to visit me in ages.” “I wish you’d visit more often.” “I’m just so sick of being alone all the time.” “No, of course I’m not lonely.”
Artwork commissioned from @bearanium(commission info) as a gift for one of my fellow players in my DnD group - thank you so much, he really liked it!
HardyGal’s DnD Experiences (Roughly) Retold
Session 4: For Want of a Shadow
The following retelling focuses on the above character of course, but told from the POV of my character because, well, obviously I don’t know the exact mindset of another player’s character :}
—
Fredrick stumbled slightly and leant against a nearby tree. Gossamer sat up from where he had been lying down in the grass, his relief at finally being outside again disappearing. He quickly got to his feet and met with Vyalda as the two of them stepped towards the rather ill-looking goliath.
“Hey, man,” said Gossamer, “are you alright?”
“What is wrong?” Vyalda asked.
“I’m not sure…” Fredrick shook his head, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I feel really weak for some reason… I’m also really hungry, not gonna lie.”
“Oh! I can actually help with that…!” Gossamer dropped down onto one knee and began rummaging through his pack. “I still have some bread leftover from the supplies Altova gave us.”
“Uh, that’s really not necessary,” Fredrick protested.
“No, no, it’s fine, just give me a second.”
Not finding the bread anywhere in top layer of supplies, Gossamer shoved his hand deeper into the pack. Something small and rattling fell out amid the disorganised rummaging, and he just barely caught it before it hit the grass.
“Oh, shit…!”
It was a money pouch. A bit of a surprise considering Gossamer had fully resigned himself to being broke since arriving at Kusik.
“Something wrong?” Fredrick asked, voice coming out a little tight.
“Um, uh…” Gossamer shook himself and shoved the pouch back into his pack. “It’s nothing. Not important.”
His parents must have slipped something extra into his pack before he left, but he would have to leave being grateful (and worrying about what Queenie and Vyalda’s reactions would be to him not, in fact, being broke) for later. Gossamer continued to search his pack for the bread. He continued to come up empty handed.
“Dammit,” Gossamer muttered, confusion giving way to frustration as he all but shoved his pack aside. “I can’t find it anywhere…!”
“That’s fine,” Fredrick said quickly. “I don’t need to eat anything right now.”
The goliath brought out his own pack and removed a waterskin from it, gulping down the contents as though he had just escaped from a desert.
With a sigh, Gossamer stood up straight and turned to Vyalda. “Hey, Vyalda, you know how to heal people, right?”
“Yes,” the dragonborn replied. “I suppose I could try removing whatever ails him, but…” Her stoic features furrowed as she hesitated. “I have a feeling this is more than some common ailment.”
“Hey, it’s still worth a try…!”
“I agree,” Fredrick added, before quickly returning to his water.
“All right.” Vyalda stepped forward.
A slight breeze brushed past the dragonborn as she raised her hand to place it on Fredrick’s arm. Then, she glanced downward and froze.
“Oh, shit,” she muttered.
Gossamer looked down and nearly recoiled as he immediately noticed what had startled Vyalda. “What the hell…?!”
Fredrick lowered his now empty waterskin, frowning at the two of them with a mixture of confusion and nervousness. “What? What is it?”
“Fredrick,” Vyalda said, her peculiar pronunciation of the goliath’s name coming out slowly, as though trying to calm a child. “Do not panic, but your shadow is missing.”
Fredrick threw himself at the orc, attempting to restrain him in a tight bearhug. Despite the goliath’s superior height, though, the orc slammed his elbow back against Fredrick’s head and wrenched himself out of his grasp. Queenie was quick to swipe at the orc with her greataxe, easily grabbing his attention while Fredrick stumbled back, looking more frustrated than hurt.
“Shit!” Fredrick glanced back at Gossamer. “Help me pin him down!”
For a moment, Gossamer could only stare up at Fredrick incredulously. His eyes then flicked back towards the orc, who was still engaged in combat with the raging Queenie. The orc was clearly worn out from his previous battle, perhaps even on his last legs, yet he met the tiefling’s attacks with no less fire and zeal.
Gods, just what the hell was Fredrick expecting him to do…?!
Sure, the orc was a bit shorter than the absolute tower that was Fredrick, but meant nothing when the orc was still nearly two and a half feet taller than Gossamer. And that wasn’t even considering the fact that Gossamer was a damned stick compared to literally everyone else in the group, including Queenie, and she was was somehow shorter than him!
“Gossamer, help me out here!” Fredrick shouted.
“All right…!” Uncertain, dubious, but not knowing what else to do, Gossamer rushed forward.
There was no way in hell he would be able to tackle the orc. Even if he had the height, he certainly didn’t have the strength, and Gossamer was not so stupid as to think he could pull something like that off. His best bet was to stagger the orc and give an opening for Fredrick to try and restrain him again.
Brandishing the shortsword that Vyalda had given him, Gossamer darted right past the distracted orc, slashing at the back of his knee. The orc let out a slightly gurgling roar. Without breaking momentum, Gossamer spun around and prepared to stab his dagger into the other leg, just in time to see the orc collapse.
The impact of the orc’s massive body kicked up a poof of dust from the bloodstained grass. For another millisecond, orc’s eyes still burned with an anger and defiance to rival Queenie’s, and then that light was gone. The orc simply lay there, unmoving, unseeing, and a bit more than simply staggered.
‘Wait a second…’ Gossamer stared down at the massive body(!?). ‘Wait a second…’
“Hey, good job, Gossamer,” Queenie said, sounding a little breathless.
‘Wait, I didn’t… That wasn’t…’
“Someone is coming out of the cave…!” Vyalda exclaimed suddenly.
That didn’t sound good. Gossamer could hear Fredrick’s heavy footfalls fade into the forest, see Queenie and Vyalda rush past his peripheral vision. He was aware of all of this, but it was all a little faded and fuzzy, like a bad alcohol buzz. Yet by some miracle, Gossamer was able to put one foot in front of the other, though it felt like it took an eternity of effort, and he swiftly stumbled past the body and into the shadows of the trees.
As soon as Gossamer met the rest of the group behind the trees and pressed himself against a trunk, a pair of orcs emerged from the cave. They both ran into the forest, weapons drawn and teeth bared, running right past the group and quickly fading away from both sight and hearing.
Gossamer looked down at his hands, which were still gripping his dagger and the shortsword. The wraps were stained with blood. It looked like his hands were shaking slightly. There was a slight pounding in his temples. He felt just a bit dizzy.
A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder, making Gossamer jolt with a yelp. He looked up to see Vyalda regarding him with just a bit less stoic-ness than usual.
your classic piratin’ axe wieldin’ knife carryin’ belt bucklin’ one-hoop-earring wearin’ badass tiefling for @hardygalwrites. thanks for the commission, hope i did this gal justice ;)
i will make tasty art for you…come fill out my snazzy google form and tell me about your characters….
Hell yeah you did her justice, she looks truly badass and amazing! The player to whom this character belongs really liked this art piece, and I thank you :3
HardyGal’s D&D Experiences (Roughly) Retold
Session 2: In Which My Character Nearly Got Punched
The following retelling is a moment about the above player character, told from the POV of my player character (due to the fact that I do not have access to the precise mindset of another player character)
—
“What the FUCK!”
The words thundered through the clearing in a painfully loud roar, making Gossamer jolt as he covered his ears. He spun around and immediately saw Queenie, pointing her greataxe, the red aura around her flaring as she glared at him with an unbridled fury. It was objectively intimidating, but Gossamer was far too distracted by the ringing in his ears to even consider taking a step back.
“What the hell?!” he exclaimed incredulously, hands still pressed over his ears.
Queenie did not dignify his question with a response, instead swinging her greataxe down and stomping towards him. Now Gossamer felt intimidated. He stumbled back, instinctively raising his arms in preparation to defend himself from the punch he absolutely knew was coming.
“Woah, hey!” Fredrick shoved himself in between Gossamer and Queenie, just as the latter pulled back her fist.
Before Queenie could make good on her strike, Vyalda also shoved herself into the conflict, catching the tiefling’s wrist in a clawed hand.
“That is enough,” Vyalda said sharply, her accent making her words even harsher than her tone already did. “The battle is over, we do not need to fight amongst ourselves.”
Queenie jerked her hand from Vyalda’s grasp. “He nearly got us all killed!”
“Yeah, that was pretty stupid,” Fredrick said, looking down at Gossamer with a frown.
Gossamer said nothing. No words came to mind as he stared at Queenie in shock, arms still held up in front of him.
“But we are still alive,” Vyalda emphasised. “The boy made a mistake. That does not mean we should start fighting.”
Queenie simply let out a huff and turned away. The red aura around her had dissipated, but she still looked pissed as hell as she dug through her pack and pulled out the last health potion she had been given. Looking at her now, Gossamer realised just how bad a condition Queenie was currently in. Her eyes were slightly cloudy, her shirt was slashed and bloodied in several places, and her arms seemed to be trembling ever so slightly.
Gods, he had been so focused on helping Hubie that he hadn’t even considered what the rest of these guys would do once he ran into the fray…
Queenie downed the potion in one gulp and shook herself as some vitality returned to her eyes and body. Gossamer glanced down, pulling at the wraps around his hands agitatedly.
Yeah, just saying sorry didn’t sound like a good way to make up for anything. He probably should have taken that punch.
Artwork commissioned from @myrmyr21 - thank you so much for creating one of the very first art pieces of my character here :D
HardyGal’s D&D Experiences (Roughly) Retold
Session 1: A Social Faux Pas
This moment has haunted my character more than his actual background at this point :]
—
While Vyalda and Queenie checked on the old lady who had suddenly fallen asleep at her table, Gossamer turned to where he had last seen that young elf girl. It had been perhaps five minutes since he had first taken note of her presence, but as he scanned the tavern for her now, he saw no sign of her.
‘Oh, crap…’
Gossamer quickly approached the bar. “Hey, Hubie!”
The old dwarven bartender made a grunt of acknowledgement, looking up from the glass he was currently cleaning.
“Hey,” Gossamer said, tapping a finger on the bar, “have you seen that girl, umm, Maya?”
“She should be just over there, lad.” Hubie pointed in the direction Gossamer had last seen Maya, then paused. “Well, she was just over there.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing, we were just talking to Miss Mary, and she told us Maya was planning on entering the forest. Do you know where she could be right now?”
Hubie’s furrowed brow somehow furrowed even further. “She’s… probably gone to Edaline Forest, then…”
“Shit.” Gossamer ran his hands over his face with a low groan before quickly turning back to the bartender. “Do you have any idea why she would do that?”
“Probably to search for her younger brother,” Hubie murmured, setting aside the glass he had been cleaning.
“Yeah, that makes sense…”
Gossamer would very much admit that he would do the exact same thing if he were in Maya’s position, as stupid as he knew it would be. But surely, if Maya was looking to enter Edaline Forest, she wouldn’t do without supplies. And Gossamer didn’t recall seeing a backpack or weapons, anything to indicate that Maya was planning on embarking on a dangerous mission.
“Hey, do you know where Maya lives or stays?” Gossamer asked quickly.
“She stays here, in the tavern,” Hubie answered gruffly. “Just like everyone else in the town these days.”
“All right… Could you tell me–”
There was a brief moment in between the question Gossamer was looking to ask. A fleeting instant in which he realised that what he was about to ask, the question that was leaving his mouth at this moment, could be construed as potentially creepy.
But too late, he finished the question without getting a chance to stop himself, saying, “Could you tell me which room is hers?”
Hubie stopped, his rough hand hovering over another glass, and he slowly looked Gossamer in the eyes. “Lad…”
Gossamer began to wave his hands frantically. “No, no, no, I know how that sounds, but I just want–!”
A heavy presence loomed over Gossamer’s shoulder, and he turned to see Vyalda. The dragonborn’s already stern features appeared somehow sterner as she looked down at Gossamer, not saying a word. Her presence was uncannily similar to that of Gossamer’s father whenever Gossamer was caught doing something especially stupid. Standing a little behind Vyalda, Queenie was regarding Gossamer with a combination of bemusement and mild distaste.
“That’s really creepy, Gossamer,” the tiefling said slowly.
“No…!” Gossamer protested. He could feel his face starting to become warm. “That’s not why I was–!”
“Word of advice, lad,” Hubie cut in, bringing Gossamer’s attention back to the bartender in time to see Hubie place a hand on the bar and fix him with another stern look. “Keep it in your pants.”
They’re going to get out of here, they’re going to go home, and maybe they’ll never speak of this again. Maybe they’ll never bring it up and maybe they’ll never hang out more and maybe they’ll still die horribly in this war.
But it’ll be different.
The mercs force Epsilon back into Wash’s head, and several subsequent days of That Happening. Featuring: daring escapes, two people trying really hard not to mess each other up any more than they already are, and Chorus as Space Australia.
#Colored Text, (for Epsilon) #BAMF Washington, #Matthews (Red vs Blue), #Action, #Hurt/Comfort, #Hopepunk, #light #Angst with a Happy Ending, #Some Wild Imaginary Animals Were Harmed in the Writing of this Fic
I finally drew a fic cover I like hallelujah amen. Final chapters start posting this Saturday!
