#grendelkin
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it’s dramatic pause? I have dramatic paws!
#critical role spoilers#critical role liveblog#homestuck#grendelposting#Make Grendel A Playable Race You Cowards#grendelkin#trolls or something#space bugs
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Grendel : The Wolf Among Us - anonymous
#grendel kin#grendelkin#twau kin#twaukin#the wolf among us kin#aesthetic#water -#fish -#shark -#alcohol -
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Valkyrie (Variable Quality)
Art by Frank Cho
Valkyrie (Crossover Universe) (16-Point Quality)
Valkyrie’s are the warriors of old, servitors of Odin, and choosers of the Slain. In modern-day, they work for Odin in his guise as a mercenary company, as he works to foster strong warriors and prepare for the next Ragnarök
Yes, the Next Ragnarök. They happen roughly every few decades as part of an eternal cycle of death and renewal. Usually, these battles take place in the depths of the world of spirit, and their continued nature means there’s always a call for more.
Though some Ragnaröks are worse than others. Just like how yearly Apocalypses vary in devastation.
A Valkyrie is chosen from a young maiden who has died and was devoted to the Norse Gods. They are revived in a new life of youth, beauty, and strength by Odin to seek out fine warriors to become Einherjar, and serve as Odin’s mercenary force.
This quality grants many boons. Valkyrie have a +4 to Strength, +2 Dexterity, +3 Constitution, and can raise these attributes to superhuman levels. They can also raise their Willpower to 7. They recover their Constitution every hour. They also start with Hard to Kill 2 (and can have up to 10 levels). Because they are trained to be warriors by Odin, they receive a +1 to Acrobatics, Getting Medieval, Kung Fu, and Occultism. They also gain Nerves of Steel and either Fast Reaction Time or Situational Awareness.
They also have a strange ability to “Sense” imminent Death. If someone is going to die, in particular a warrior of Note, they can not only know it’s going to happen but they also know where and when it will occur.
Mostly. Death can still sneak up on them like it can anyone, but this is a potent ability. Though they usually choose not to intervene and instead opt to recruit, since that’s their job.
They have a Total Obligation to Odin (or Freya, she has a few too), Adversaries (Giants, Monsters, and Grendelkin) of 5.
Because of the rough lives they leave, they have Mild Anti-Social Impulses, either towards Cruelty or Violence.
And they have a weakness. Weapons made with or stained by Holly deal Double damage to them and Holly sap and liquids are poisonous to them, lethally (Drains the target of 10 Life Points per round until the ‘size’ of the dose burns out, and regeneration is suppressed while doing so).
Many of them pick up other qualities such as Magical Philosophy (Runic) and Berserker.
Valkyrie (Folkloric) (20-Point Quality)
Valkyries or Hamingja are primarily from realms farther north than Italy, but their connection to the Amazons has drawn them further south than they once were. When the Norse pantheon fell to Ragnarök, only a few deities and ghosts managed to survive. Some Valkyries were among them. Some of them on the edges of the collapsing Roman Empire fled to the Amazon's side--a group with which they held a respectful if competitive and combative relationship with. The Amazons welcomed their fellow warriors with open arms and fully assimilated them into their society. Few Valkyries continue to work for the remaining Norse Gods (Baldr, Modi, Magni, Hodr) and the few other beings that survived the cataclysm that all but obliterated the magical realms in Germanic and Scandinavian lands. Some of them are independent of any group.
Valkyrie receive a +2 to Strength and Constitution, a +3 to Dexterity as well as a +1 to all mental attributes. Valkyrie are Innately Magical, capable of basic flight. They have the Calling ability as well as Supernatural Senses (Insight). On the negative side, they have the Minority (Female) and Honorable (minimal) drawback. Though few have an obligation to the pantheon anymore (3 point, reducing the quality to 17 points), they yet retain a fairy compulsion to judge the fallen (with their Insight). They no longer can ferry fallen warriors to Valhalla (as it no longer exists), and thus are simply compelled to use their insight on the recently deceased.
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Grendelkin by harkobotond
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Just so you all know, academics have decided that the term for Grendel and his mother together is Grendelkin.
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oh you like yourself?? name three of your good qualities that aren’t ways you serve others.
I enjoy my own company. Solo dates are fun.
I’m very hands-on. If something needs fixing, I’ll fix it... or at least try lol.
I have a dark sense of humour, it gets me through life.
Thanks @deep-dark-down for throwing this my way, needed some self-love at the moment.
I’ll tag @grendelkin-and-unicorns, @thestrawberrywarlus, @lauradarkfire, @nelentari and everyone else reading this.
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MtG Month of the Ship Day 30 - Children
(30 days and 31 fics! It’s been an amazing month with all you beautiful, amazing mtg fanatics!)
“Barrin! Ash! Get back here!”
The twins ducked under Arvad’s outstretched hand and sprinted off across the deck of the Weatherlight, giggling like little devils. Raff tried to intercept them, casting a net of blue mana down from the rigging, but they split in different directions, wings carrying them up into the sky.
Suddenly a shadow fell on both of them, blotting out the late afternoon sun. They spun around to find Tiana standing behind them, a hand on either hip.
“Now you two, are you being nice to your Uncle Arvad and Uncle Raff?”
“Yes!” They both shouted in unison.
Tiana raised an eyebrow and smiled at them, expectantly. “Are you fibbing?”
Their faces fell a little.
“Yes…” they admitted in unison.
Tiana reached out and pulled each of them into a mid-air half-hug. “Well? What do we say?”
“Sorry uncles!” The little angels called down at the exhausted mage and vampire. Raff gave a winded thumbs-up, and Arvad just laughed.
“They’re too quick for us, Tiana! They’ll be outracing the ship before we know it!”
“Is that true?” Tiana ruffled the twins’ hair. They wore it Ghitu-style, with short braids of orange hair streaked with black. “Are you flying that fast?”
“I am faster than the ship!” Ash declared. She wiggled out of her mother’s grasp and swooped above the ship in rapid loops.
“Slower, please,” Jhoira called up from the deck. “You’ll make yourself sick again; do you want that?”
“Sorry, Mommy Joy!” Ash slowed to a glide. “Did you see how fast I was?”
“No,” Jhoira deadpanned. “You were moving too quick for me to see.”
The little angel-child giggled and flapped off higher toward the Weatherlight’s folded wings. Her brother joined her a second later, and they started playing a game of aerial tag while Tiana hovered over them.
“They are marvelous flyers.” Lyra Dawnbringer lit on the deck beside Jhoira. “I told them they could go ahead after their lessons and they outpaced me in seconds.” She extended a hand to Jhoira. “As always, thank you for having me.”
“Thank you for your time, Dawnbringer.” Jhoira accepted the hand and shook it. “Ash and Barrin seem to be getting a lot out of your visits. They keep asking if we can take you with us.”
“The time is my pleasure to give,” Lyra replied with a laugh and a serene smile. “Every child deserves loving mentorship, as does every angel. I consider it a privilege to add to what you and Tiana have given them already.”
“It’s been…it’s been wonderful, really, if unexpected. I can’t thank you enough for your understanding. I know this is an unusual situation…”
“Yes, well. As a rule, creatures of pure mana don’t get pregnant,” Lyra glanced up at Tiana, who had joined in on the game of tag, then back to Jhoira. “So…we’re still trying to figure out how you two managed that.”
Jhoira flushed.
“Please don’t misunderstand!” Lyra looked about as flustered as a non-Tiana angel could. “We consider them both a blessing, it’s just…well, it’s a very new situation for the faith, and we want to make sure we handle it with all the grace and acceptance that they deserve.” She lay a hand of reassurance on Jhoira’s shoulder. “We have nothing but appreciation for the love you’ve shown Tiana, and everything that’s come of it.”
“It’s been quite an adventure so far,” Jhoira whispered. Her three angels whirled in loops above her, laughing and chasing one another. It was beautiful. The setting sun was igniting the mountain range of clouds above them with brilliant shades of rose and gold, and still those three were the most beautiful sights in the sky.
Ash and Barrin swooped down and grabbed onto Jhoira, nearly bowling her over.
“Mom! Mom!” Barrin folded his wings and started dangling from Jhoira’s back. “Can we show Aunt Lyra a grendelkin next time she visits? She says she’s never seen one!”
“Or a gurzigost?!” Ash added.
“They’re the same thing!”
“Are not!”
Jhoira patted them both on the arm. “Now that depends on where we are next time she visits. Aunt Lyra can't just come wherever. It's a long way from Benalia to Otaria, my little pilots."
"But...but..." Ash tugged on Jhoira's trousers "Mommy Tea said she could!"
"I said you should ask Lady Lyra first," Tiana corrected as she touched down next to them. "And be ready to take ‘no’ for an answer."
"Honesty, little angels." Lyra touched each of them on the head. "And patience. Do you promise to give both to your parents?"
Barrin and Ash nodded, hugging Jhoira even tighter.
"Very good. Jhoira, Tiana, always a pleasure." Lyra spread her wings and took to the skies.
“Bye Aunt Lyraaa!” the twins waved and shouted, and then fell quiet for almost a full minute as the four of them watched Lyra wing away toward the setting sun, her armor glowing with a rainbow halo.
Jhoira picked Barrin off of her back and cradled him in her arms. “How were your lessons, pilots?” She patted Ash’s head with her other hand.
“Fun! Lyra told us about the history of Benalia!”
“And all about Serra’s realm! She said that you’re a hero, Mommy Joy! You saved all the angels and all the others too!”
“Oh no, did she really say that?” Jhoira sighed and fixed a glare on the speck that was Lyra winging away. “Mommy just did what everyone should do. Helped others in need. And I had a lot of help.”
It was no good; the twins were already looking up at her with shimmering eyes. Ash was practically jumping back into the air.
“Can you teach me how to fly the ship and save people, Mommy Joy? I promise I’m big enough now to do it really good!”
“Let’s start you off with a smaller ship, brave girl.”
Barrin tapped her arm. “Mommy Joy, can I help you fix your toolbox tomorrow? I’ve been practicing with the wind-up bugs you made and I’m getting real good with the wire stripper.”
“If you’re very good tonight and eat all your supper you may. How does that sound?”
Barrin hopped down from Jhoira’s arms and made a small salute. "Aye-aye cap'n!"
Jhoira tsk-ed. "So fresh." She ran a hand through Barrin’s hair. "You're not too old to call me your mother yet, little pilot."
"Mommy Tea calls you that!" Ash interjected.
"That's because I'm captain of the ship."
Barrin crossed his arms. "Uncle Arvad and Uncle Raff call you Jhoira."
"Aunt Shanna calls her captain!"
"Aunt Shanna calls mommy 'Captain Jhoira'" Barrin tugged at Tiana's apron. "And only in front of the rest of the crew. Why do you call Mommy Joy 'captain?’”
“Um, well-”
"First mate returning with cargo!" Raff's voice carried across the ship. "Crew, ready to load bays!"
"Aunt Shanna!" Ash let go of Jhoira and scurried down the steps to the main deck. Barrin followed after her, jumping the steps altogether and gliding down to where Shanna was mounting the gangplank back up to the ship.
Jhoira put an arm around Tiana’s waist. “Close call there, Mommy Tea.”
Tiana’s face was about as red as the sun was just then. “I didn’t think they’d heard me.”
“You slip up sometimes.” She kissed Tiana’s cheek, then leaned up into her ear. “It’s very endearing, even when you don’t realize you’re doing it.”
Tiana buried her face in her hands. “Uuugh…I’ll be more careful…” She looked up from her hands again suddenly, like she’d had a thought. She glanced around them, then smirked at Jhoira. “…cap~tain angel hero.”
Jhoira snorted and ran a hand up Tiana’s back and curled a lock of the angel’s hair around her finger. She tugged the angel’s head back and kissed her ear. “So brazen. Hero or not, I’m still your captain and – oh no, she brought them candy.”
The twins were tearing across the ship again, faces smeared with whatever sweets Shanna had brought back with her to maintain her reign as ‘coolest aunt.’ They stomped across the deck, while Slimefoot’s saprolings scurried along behind them, cleaning up the tracks they left behind.
“Looks like we’ll be up all night with them, Mommy Joy.” Tiana slipped behind Jhoira and wrapped her arms around her, resting her cheek on top of Jhoira’s head.
“Mmmm…honestly…?” Jhoira leaned back against Tiana, letting herself sink into her lover’s strong arms. “…I can’t think of a nicer way to spend the night.”
The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.
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Gift: Grendelkin birthday by foxhat94
Happy birthday Grendelkin !
I hope you have a great day
I a surprise Mebi, I hope you like it
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Prompt: hidden :)
Thank you kindly! :DShe’s six and ahalf gods-be-damned feet tall. A head taller than most humans. Twice the breadth of any elves. Three times the mass of a dwarf. Wasn’t even worth getting into the math for halflings and gnomes;shorter folk walked into her knees before they realized they neededto look up.
And there’sabsolutely no missing that she’s fucking green,with tusks that she usesto open melons. Sheloomed. She laughed, she swore, she fought. Shekneweyes were on her. So maybepeople could be excused forthinking that Grina Grendelkin wasn’t going to be hiding anytime soon.
She saw her chance. She took it. Her hands are faster than you’d think. It’s notexactly comfortable to shove something with all those angles down hershirt but that’s what’s convenient with her arms crossed, leaningagainst the wall. When the uproar hit, she went searching with therest of them, standing over unfortunates shaking out their pockets.
No one even thinksto check her.
#sometimes I write#Wind is a ridiculous creature#homegame#my action rogue hides in plain sight#or on the ceiling#y'know whatever's available#much appreciated with the help getting the rust off! :D#Anonymous
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About Me Tag
I was tagged by @grendelkin-and-unicorns, so thank you!
Rules: answer these questions then tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better.
Nickname: Manoora
Zodiac: Aquarius
Height: 5’2 probably
Time: 00:57
Favorite bands/artists: I’m not much for music tbh so I don’t really have a fave
Song stuck in my head: For some reason I couldn’t stop singing Summer Holiday by Cliff Richard in the car the other day, even though I only know a few lines.
Last movie I saw: I can’t remember but I think it’s Black Panther
Last thing I googled: World Cup
Other blogs: No.
Do I get asks: Not many
Why did I choose my username: I am a die hard Merlin fan, always have been and always will be, and I’m a bookworm.
Following: 665
Average amount of sleep: 4-5 hours because I don’t have a sleeping pattern at all
Lucky number: 6
What I’m wearing: Harry potter leggings and a wonder woman tshirt
Dream job: Curator of the British Museum *covers face*
Dream trip: A trip across Italy would be amazing, but I also really want to go to Disneyland.
Favorite food: Lasagne
Play any instruments: Not at all, I attempted the recorder while I was in primary school but gave up really quickly
Favorite song: Although it’s old I really like Country Roads by John Denver
Play(ed) any sports: I once got a bronze medal in the long jump? I also swam when I was little.
Hair color: Dark brown.
Eye color: Dark Brown
Most iconic song: I honestly don’t know
Languages you speak/learning: English, Arabic, a bit of French and Spanish.
Random fact: I have a pet canary who always looks pissed off.
Describe yourself as aesthetic/things: Waning sunlight, an unmade bed, fuzzy socks, feathers, endless bookshelves, stickers.
I tag whoever fancies doing this tbh!
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A review of Jesse Raccio’s Beowulf
This week, we discussed modern interpretations and adaptations of Beowulf. I read the dragon chapter of Grendel, which was really perfect--and I watched Jesse Raccio’s and Buffy Sharpe’s operatic adaptation of the poem (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oo02DllRRFo). The opera was exactly what I expected: young singers deconstructing voice pathos over minimalistic, repetitive triads. It was disappointing, initially, but I warmed up to it and I think this team did a lot of things very well with their adaption.
In his studies on fairy tales, Jack Zipes distinguishes between duplication ("produc[ing] a lookalike") and revision ("creat[ing] something new that incorporates critical and creative thinking of the producer and corresponds to changed demands and tastes of audiences") (9). Zipes says that, "a result of transformed values, [revisions] alter the reader's views of traditional patterns, images, and codes" though such alterations are not necessarily "improvements" or "progressive" (9). As far as adaptations go, Sharpe's reading of the Beowulf story is progressive in its deconstruction of harmonic form and voice pathos, but slightly regressive, in its characterization of some figures in the story.
What this opera does well:
Voice pathos gesture to the binaries within the text. We have spoken of pairs of binary oppositions, in class, and Tolkien addresses this, to some degree, in his Monsters and Critics essay, noting that the poem is “essentially balance, an opposition of endings and beginnings. In simple terms, it is a contrasted description of two moments in a great life, rising and setting; an elaboration of the ancient and intensely moving contrast between youth and old age, first achievement and final death" (5).
When I speak of voice pathos, I am referring to the roles and melodies composers write for particular voice types. I am a dramatic soprano, for example, and the last two roles I played were Delilah and Salome. My voice has weight to it and women with weighted voices never play love interests. I will always be cutting off someone's head, because weighted voices are powerful voices and powerful women, prior to the 20th century, were always disruptive figures. As far as general rules for pre-20th C voice parts go, the heroes are always tenors, the love interests are always lyric sopranos, the servants are generally basses (or mezzo-sopranos, for teenage boy servants), the wise, older male figures are baritones, the grandmothers are contraltos, the strong female figures are dramatic sopranos or coloratura sopranos. Raccio's voices her opera as such:1. Aeschere: counter tenor 2. Grendel's mother: dramatic soprano 3. Hrothgar: baritone4. Beowulf: tenor 5. Wealtheow: Lyric soprano
The voicing was the first component of the opera that impressed me, since Aeschere is--at the first listen--seemingly misvoiced. In the Beowulf story, of course, Aeschere doesn't speak at all, but Sharpe writes him into Grendel's mother's entrance and Raccio uses a counter tenor (or a tenor trying to sing a counter tenor's range). It's disconcerting, hearing a dramatic soprano paired with a counter tenor; there's too much power on stage and the melodic lines are jagged, the melody never going where my ear tells me it should go. It's unpleasant and symbolic: a lot of power on stage, but misplaced power, out of range and out of key, like Grendel's mother bursting into the safety of the Hall.
By contrast, Hrothgar has very simple, musically-logical melodic lines that move within a more traditional, Western harmonic structure (C-F-G-C sorts of progressions, overall). Beowulf tends to get the soaring heroic tenor melodies and there is really no better way, musically, to signify boasting than to write a heroic tenor melody. The wonderfully creative revision that Raccio makes, with the boasting, is that--while Beowulf's melody is less jagged and sounds properly-voiced, the text, "Fear not," (as in--Fear not. I will go after Grendelkin) is sung on a minor second. In music theory, the minor second is always used to denote tension (the two repeated notes from the Jaws theme constitute a minor second, for example), so that while Beowulf is voiced from a place of musical stability, there is an element of tension, to the scene, also. Raccio is not the first composer to play with a story that has some of its basis in Norse mythology and it is really nice to see her playing with the kinds of conventions Wagner does. Wagner's well-known leitmotifs--symbolic chords--are structured on a premise of nothing resolving the way that it is meant to, in the way of chord progressions. I sense that Raccio's playfulness with musical tensions may be a nod to Wagner, especially when she moves from epic or heroic chords to...improperly resolved chords. (Stephen Fry discusses Wagnerian leitmotifs and musical tension, in this clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWLp7lBomW8)
What the opera does not do well:
The librettist, Sharpe, writes Grendel's mother in a way that devastated me, to some degree, as a dramatic soprano. Grendel's mother is a siren--which gestures back to some of the critical writings we've discussed on epics--but she does not need to be a siren. In the Grendel opera, adapted from John Gardner's book, the mother is strictly physically powerful. She's threatening because she's physically threatening. I know that there are many good feminist essays on this subject--and on the subject of Beowulf's sword melting in Grendel's mother's body--but it seems lazy to me to automatically eroticize her power. I'm not opposed to erotic power outright, but there are so few moments, in literature, in which women have an outright physical advantage and Raccio and Sharpe have written that out of the text just so that this singer has a more legato aria. Putting this this woman's powerful voice to good use is understandable, but, reasonably, they could have also written her a reflective/solitary aria(or lullaby) of grief, and then broken the melody into a more recitative-style (with conversation-like snippets of sound), as she enters the hall to avenge her son's death. Composers don't like to put weighted voices into faster melodies, but it can be really effective when they do (case-in-point: Norman, 30 seconds into this aria--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_H9LTixHHug). Hearing Aeschere say, "She's a siren. She's a minx. She is not as she appears to me," then, is a bit irritating, especially given Aeschere’s age. On the other hand, though, the slow seduction leaves affective space for a slow exit from the Hall. In that moment, she cradles Grendel's arm in hers and it is actually quite moving.
Overall then, this opera has its strength in Raccio's experimentation with sound and harmonic form, in the moments in which Heorot has been compromised. The libretto, though, has far too much seduction and romance and we don't get the engagement with the community, that we see in the original text and I don’t like reading this story without it.
Tolkien, J.R.R. “Beowulf: The Monsters and the Critics.” Beowulf: A Verse Translation. Ed. Daniel Donoghue. New York: Norton, 2002.
Zipes, Jack. Fairytale as Myth/Myth as Fairytale. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1994.
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POST 6 RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOURSELF AND THEN PASS IT ON TO 10(+) OF YOUR FAVORITE FOLLOWERS.
Thank you @thestrawberrywarlus for tagging me.
I haven’t dyed my hair in 8 years. I used to try all sorts of colours from purple to black, even had a blue fringe at some point. I also bleached my own hair once to achieve a bright red look.
I live and breathe art. Seriously, if I can’t create anything myself I need to go to a museum or stare at people’s work on Instagram. I follow many talented artists there.
I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this one before but I’m left-handed. My paternal grandmother still hasn’t accepted it after all those years.
I love to read a lot. I’ve actually had more time to read this year than in ages. It has pleased my soul, even though I still have a huge pile of unread books. Maybe I just need to stop buying books...
I have endometriosis. I got the definitive diagnosis this year after surgery. This is actually why I had so much free time for reading.
I still haven’t figured out what to do with my life, and I hate when people ask me about that.
So I tag @deep-dark-down, @spookyloop, @nelentari, @grendelkin-and-unicorns, @lauradarkfire, @teawitch, @jessica-marie-baumgartner, @seashellguitar, @slothmonkee, @sparklingdarkness-guia... that’s 10, right?
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MTG Month of the Ship Day 10 - Cuddles
(Xantcha is my #1 fave character of all time, but Chainer is a super-close second. One day I’ll get super into characters who got canon happy endings...in the meantime, gotta give them what we can)
Kamahl wasn’t one to let his guard down. Life among the Pardic barbarians was short for any warrior who didn’t sleep with one eye open, and Kamahl did not plan on dying any time soon. Not from a bandit ambush or in the jaws of whatever beasts were lurking in the Krosan forest, and certainly not from a bit of undercooked meat.
“There.” Chainer gave the spit another turn, and stood to stretch. “Squirrel for me, a fresh stag for the picky barbarian.”
Kamahl laughed. “Picky, sure. You can never be too careful with game.” He snapped, and a trail of sparks leapt from his fingers to the fire-pit. The flames leapt, and the meat sizzled. “You’ll thank me when you complete your shikar without food poisoning.”
“You know most people in the city think you barbarians are brave adventurers?” Chainer clutched a hand to his chest with exaggerated drama. “Imagine their surprise if they ever met you in person.”
“Hey, I’m brave and I’m adventuring right now,” Kamahl protested. “And I might add I’m a living adventurer, so perhaps I know a thing or two.”
“Fair enough.” Chainer walked over and dropped into Kamahl’s lap. With a casualness that still astounded the barbarian, he, stretched out, laying his head in the crook between Kamahl’s chest and bicep. “Still, your elders might have taught you to have a little fun in life.”
Kamahl suppressed another laugh. As much as Chainer adored leather and snakes, his nature was more like that of a cat than anything. Hard to read. Familiar when he wanted to be and suddenly distant the next. But if you watched carefully there were clear patterns of trust and distrust that guided his moods.
“Kuber’s gold, you’re stiff.” Chainer lay a hand on Kamahl’s forearm. “Are you alright?” He looked up at Kamahl. “The thing with the gargadon, you aren’t…?”
“I’d be a bad partner if I wasn’t used to your dementist’s tricks by now.”
“Bad partner…” Chainer settled his head back down, but kept running his fingers along the barbarian’s arm. “…as if. We’re technically undefeated in the pits, you know.”
Kamahl put a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Well, I am.” He flexed his arm just a little bit, to squeeze Chainer.
Now it was Chainer’s turn to laugh. Kamahl was grateful for any positive reaction he could get on this journey. He could tell that Chainer was not fully over Skellum’s death, no matter how much he threw himself into this monster-making quest.
Kamahl lay a protective hand on Chainer’s knee. It had been a shock to see him absorb an entire gargadon in the blink of an eye. He trusted Chainer, but it was taking some getting used to, teaming with a dementist instead of fighting them.
Chainer’s arm wandered up behind Kamahl’s neck and began stroking the back of his head. This at least had come easily, if suddenly. It had been after the fight with Divon. As they waited in the side-pits for their next match, Chainer had embraced him, and Kamahl, against his cautious nature, had not hesitated to return the contact. That Megalith had been the closest he’d ever come to dying in the arena. It was novel to have someone outside the mountains who cared so much about his well-being, but not unwelcome by any stretch.
The touches were more frequent after that. Always after the matches. Sometimes in the stretches before. The closeness helped with the agitation between fights. It had been hard after the Cabal Patriarch asked them to start throwing fights, but Skellum had been understanding, and made excuses for Chainer so Kamahl could meet with him and…commiserate over their respective solo matches.
It was nice to still have that contact, out here in the wilderness.
“What sort of beasts are we looking for tomorrow? You never told me. More gargadons?”
“Hm, all kinds.” Chainer turned and lay his cheek on Kamahl’s breast. “Big, small, in-between. I’d like to find some snakes, but Skellum would kill me from the grave if I didn’t add a bit more variety to my collection. Maybe a grendelkin. Or a gurzigost. I think he’d have liked that.”
Kamahl hugged Chainer close. “He’d have been proud. He was, I’m sure.” They lay in silence a few minutes, just holding each other close. Chainer’s eyes drifted close, but snapped back open, wide and blue and beautiful, when Kamahl spoke again.
“I’m proud of you.” The truth poured out, stiff and awkward, but from the sly smile that lit up Chainer’s face, not unappreciated.
“Meat’s ready,” he added, shifting to sit forward and take it.
“No, stay there, I’ve got it.” Chainer leapt up, plucked up the spit, planted it into the ground next to them, and settled back into Kamahl’s arms. When it had cooled, he pulled out his knife and started taking off cuts, and feeding them to Kamahl by hand.
“Fier’s teeth,” Kamahl sighed, “That tastes like nectar.” With the danger of their quest and the excitement of their first day in Krosa, he had forgotten how hungry he was.
Chainer wolfed down his own supper, and nestled back against Kamahl’s chest. His usual sleeping place.
Kamahl rested his hand over Chainer’s waist. “Want me to take first watch?”
“Mmm, you rest. I can’t sleep. Too excited.” Chainer rested his hand atop Kamahl’s. “I’ll wake you later.”
Kamahl wasn’t one to let his guard down. Still, between the warm evening breeze, a belly full of food, and the company of a skilled, trusted companion, he let himself relax, just a little.
The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.
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