Good people you may be wondering what the FUCK a 9 hells and purrgatory is. I am here to help you because this hyperfixation is not leaving anytime soon and has begun to spread so much that people are wondering what on Earth we are on about. So! Have a fun rant about a neat little setting and the 10 OCs we have brain rotted about that call this city home! This is an AU for the new Magic the Gathering set “Streets of New Capenna” featuring a bunch of OC’s made by a group of friends. All from the 5 families so we wanna introduce them to you! Going from left to right Character name, Mafia Family, Creator of the OC..
Laelia- Cabaretti- @chara-universe
Dorata - Riveteer - Mich
Zain - Obscura - @talulaskye
Azrael - Maestro - Crowva
Rumor - Maestro - Bee
Sylvia - Obscura - @loyalwolf6153
Maeve - Broker - @midknightblue7
Persephone - Broker - @bubblytarts
Chance - Cabaretti - @anatthema-art
Candy - Riveteer - @ispeakartsy
If you want to learn more about these OC’s click these links to get their bios family by family
https://nine-hells-and-purrgatory.tumblr.com/post/682754365342285824/meet-our-obscura
https://nine-hells-and-purrgatory.tumblr.com/post/682754367858917376/meet-our-brokers
Hey everyone! We have another 9 Hells fic. This time, we have Maeve and Dorata in this one. The two are having a nice little spar. Keeping up with one another and not holding back as they trade blows.
They aren’t supposed to be doing this.
He feints an attack, then swings a haymaker at her. She deflects with the sword.
Her muscles ache. She’s built for deskwork, not for this.
Then again, technically she isn’t here.
She’s not here, in this dusty arena, sparring with a man twice her size, deep in Riveteer territory.
Of course, technicality is the air she breathes. She’s not here to anyone unimportant. She’s here because he is important.
They circle each other, waiting for an opening. This is the part of fighting Maeve lives for, the dance portion, the elegance.
They exchange more blows. His get more and more wild, hers more and more reserved, focusing on defense. The sword she’s using is probably going to get dented. Unimportant.
The fight ebbs and flows, like all fights do. They both get in some good hits. Luckily, he’s got enough sense to hold back.
She wonders if she can outlast the anger. The hurt… the hurt she can’t outlast. But she can get through the anger. Help with the release.
She had had to convince him that it was even a good idea to start this fight. Both this sparring match, and what caused it.
Dueling in a political sense is her domain. Writing up her cases, presenting airtight evidence, dominating the competition with the pen not the sword.
It’s not where he likes to fight. But that was the point, of course. The point was to get a fight ring for people with prosthetics. And that was certainly important enough to fight for.
Of course, the powers that be have a lot of sway. And you can be right, you can have all the reasons and the money all lined up.
And they can still fuck you over, and you can still be back to square one, except this time all your hopes are crushed, and all you can feel is anger.
The fight has devolved by this point, Dorata hitting the wall just as much as he aims a swing at her. This is the part of physical fighting she dislikes, the deconstruction. The shattering of an intricate, twirling thing into base violence and rage.
She puts down her weapon. Fully drops it. It’s not useful to her anymore.
He stares at her, blankly, brow furrowed.
She flops onto the floor on her back, looking up at the high arched ceiling. He follows suit a moment after. There’s a moment of silence, there. Just the two of them, breathing hard, staring up at an unfeeling, cold hard ceiling.
She expects the silence to hold, for them to lay there, exhausted, letting the emotions drain into fatigue.
It… does not.
He crumples, turns onto his side, shaking with silent, tearless sobs. She turns to curl up next to him, to run a hand through his hair, providing wordless comfort.
The real comfort will come later, of course. Once they win. They’ve lost the battle, for sure, but the real fight is yet to begin.
She’s going to enjoy sicking Persephone on these fools.
Hey everyone! One of the members actually uploaded their fics onto Ao3. While we still will post them on here, it’ll be through a link for your viewing pleasure.
Sylvia walks into her apartment to see someone is here. She finds Az who is struggling with the effects of being a vampire. Sylvia decides to help Az out.
Hey everyone! We have another 9 Hells fic ready for people to see. We get to see the Maestros in a fic together. Az is running a little late to a date due to a surprise visit knocking at his door. Getting in a bit of tussle and making poor Ru worry.
Az was almost never alone, but on this night he sat in his darkened apartment waiting for Rumor to arrive for their pre planned date. He had to schedule it two weeks out. Azrael still thought the whole spreadsheet system was stupid but Rumor liked to keep a schedule and he was happy to comply if it lead to some good quality time.
But it was almost 8 and not a word from the man who never missed an appointment. But surely it was just traffic or something. Ru would be by soon enough to pick him up for dinner so Azrael wasted time lazily flicking through the magazines that Laelia has left on her last visit.
There was a clicking behind him, and the sound of one of the dinning windows creaking shut.
Az closed the book and slowly turned around to lean over the back of the couch. “Welcome home babe! While I appreciate a dramatic entrance you could have just used the door-”
Azrael wasn’t met with his partner however, but a hooded man with a knife spearing toward his skull. Azrael leaped back from the attacker whose knife plunged into his side. Damn. With one hand on the assailant’s collar Azrael spun around and sent him crashing into the glass coffee table while his other summoned Xander’s spectral blade. With all of his weight Az careened the sword down into his chest .Azrael’s mark hit its target as the assassin’s body fell limp.
Az kneeled in shock a moment before a smile crept onto his lips. This sure as shit was fun. He got to his feet and let the sword disappear from his hands.
“Shit I’m too late”.
Azrael turned around to face the door only to see a ragged looking Rumor running his fingers through his hair as he surveyed the room. He looked like he had just spirited a mile.
“Oh hey babe welcome home! What dark pit of hell did you just crawl out of?” Azrael laughed as he kicked the weapon of the cloaked man under the couch. But his laugh was cut short as Rumor’s face buried in his chest, embracing him around the waist. Luckily it seems like it wasn’t all too mad about the whole murder thing.
Rumor’s eyes suddenly went dark as he looked down at the red remnants on his hand. “Wait shit is that blood?”
Shit, turns out he was a little mad. “Ohhhhhh yeah it is” Az shrugged his wings in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. “But it’s nothing to worry about. Its just a little flesh wound Ru. Besides the pressure from the corset’s keeping everything together so it really isn’t that bad honestly.”
“You are bleeding though.”
“I mean yes, but it was just that one guy so like, it’s fine”
Ru gritted his teeth in frustration, “No Azrael. I Don’t want to say anything that would scare you but it is almost certainly more than just him. You are in far more danger than you realize.”
“I don’t know why you are so upset, Ru darling. If it really is as serious as you say then Xander is the most powerful man in this city. He wouldn’t let anything get to his prized precious angel after all.” Azrael smiled, but Ru did not return the gesture back.
Rumor’s grip tightened on his shoulders, out of anger or “This runs deeper than that Az. I don’t know everything but clearly this threat isn’t something Xander can take care of or else he would have done so before anything ever happened.”
“Then that just makes this a little more fun to get out of right?” Azrael joked.
“Just shut up!”
Rumor spat his nails digging deeper into Az’s pale skin. “Azrael. I don’t know how else to put this to get it through your thick skull, but they are trying to kill you! You just got fucking stabbed! Shit, you just got fucking stabbed..” That seemed to be the line that got him as all the anger and fear and fueled Rumor seemed to suddenly melt away. That void in his spirit filled with concern. Rumor took a deep breath as his grip on Azrael lessened.
The gravity of the situation finally clicked in Azrael’s mind. Not because of the assassins or the danger, he lived for that kind of thrill. But because he couldn't bear to see the face of the ever composed, always serious man he loved be replaced by one so hurt. So hurt by his own carelessness. Azrael’s own cold heart sank into his feet as his eyes met Rumor’s. He swallowed a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Alright.”
“Alright? Ok.” Rumor sighed in relief. He groaned and buried his palm into his furrowed brow. “I’ll,, figure this out alright.”
He turned back to Az, eyes glancing down to the growing dark spot on his side. Rumor said, “But right now, we need to get you somewhere safe. And get you all patched up. And just know that I won’t rest until the fucks who did this to you are buried in a hole so deep mages are finally going to discover what lies beneath hell.”
Azrael laughed despite the stinging pain in his side. There he is.
Hey! We have a new fic and it’s on Maeve and Ru. Maeve is working late night hours while Ru decides to swing on by for a visit. As the lack of sleep catches up to her, she is surprised by a sudden surprise in her drink. Oh well, it’s all part of the course, right?
It is incredibly late, and Maeve has not slept in 4.5 days. She’s so tired her eyes blink out of order, the third eye closing faster and opening slower than the other two. It’s fine. Her record for no sleep is 5 days. It’s fine.
She looks down blearily at her file. Her magnum opus, really. Her opponent had been… slipperier than most, but Maeve had persistence on her side. And dedication. And… a veritable talent for finding inaccuracies in tax returns.
Of course, it may also be her finale, but she’s decided not to think about that part of it.
She scrawls her spidery handwriting on the last page, annotating the final notes. The words blur together, but it’s legible. Written perfection.
She looks up and realizes the hallucinatory component of sleep deprivation has set in, as an imaginary Rumor is in front of her, reading the papers upside down.
“Oh.” she says dully. “Hallucinations. Fascinating.”
He looks up at her, surprised. “I suppose they are, indeed. I find this document, though… much more fascinating. Can I take a look?”
Maeve blinks once at him, slowly. He reaches forward to slide it out from under her hands.
“Wait!” she blurts out, pulling it back to her, and flipping through it madly. She can’t show anyone, even figments of her own imagination, something that isn’t perfect. She pulls out 9 pages, and shoves it towards him.
He picks it up and starts to read it intently. Odd. She’d thought he would just skim it.
“It’s my magnum opus.” she says in the same monotone. “It took me… so long.”
“Hmmm.”
“Diabolical, honestly. I think he tried to file his taxes incredibly wrong so no one would be able to figure out what to do. It took me a week to sort it all out. I can’t imagine how long it would take anyone else.”
“....I see. One can only wonder”
She returns her focus to the 9 pages in front of her. It’s always interesting to look at the thing responsible for your death.
She takes a long sip of her coffee. Ooh, it’s even hot.
Of course, as she starts to cough and wheeze not a minute later, it’s also poisoned. Bastards.
She loses time, scrabbling at her neck for her focus. She coughs blood onto the pages before she finds it and gets out the words for Protection from Poison. Huh. How… symbolic of her. The dramatic irony in the room has gone up by at least 10 degrees.
Rumor has stopped what he’s doing, mouth agape, absolutely confused about what has just occurred.
Maeve takes another sip of her coffee. Waste not want not.
This, apparently, is the last straw for Rumor, who grabs the cup out of her hands.
“By Xander’s left tit, what the fuck are you doing?!”
Maeve’s brow creases, squishing her third eye a little bit. It takes her a moment, blinking owlishly up at him, to understand.
He sees it the moment she gets it, when she figures out he’s real and probably about to kill her.
She flails backward in the chair, desperate to get away, and falls due to the stiffness of her muscles. But he’s not running on 4.5 days of no sleep, and easily gets on top of her, pinning her down.
All she manages to do is scrape the 9 pages into her chest. One success. Still a win.
He puts his hand directly into the middle of her back, and she doesn’t have the strength to get him off.
“Well.” he says “Now this… is a predicament. For you, anyway. So… what’s on those papers, hmm?”
She sets them on fire.
It costs her, the flames lick up her sides, but she can’t feel the pain. Sleep deprivation for the win. He flips her to face him, actually angry now, and he yanks her forward, face inches from hers, still on top of her.
“So. You want to explain what all that was? Give yourself one last chance?”
She glares up at him. She’s got enough fight. Probably.
“It’s none of your business.”
“This entire affair is my business, sweetheart, you’re the one who tried to take me down with fucking taxes.”
“It’s not about you!”
He’s too smart, she realizes, and she’s not at her best. He picked up that she was being genuine.
“But who…” He takes a moment to think about it. It does not take him long. He leans in very close.
“So. What do you know about Azreal?”
“Everything…” she breathes out. “You put him on as a dependent a long time ago, so I had reason to pull everything on him.”
He tightens his grip on her shoulders. It will probably bruise.
“But you burned it.” It isn’t a question.
She pouts at him. What the hell kinda game does he think this is? “That would be…unsportsmanlike.”
“Un…sportsmanlike.”
“If I wanted to get Azreal, I would get Azreal. I was after you. It would be… rude.”
He stares at her, for a very long moment. Then, his brow furrows.
“I didn’t poison your coffee.” he realizes.
Maeve yawns. She does not have enough fight in her for this.
“No. No you probably didn’t. That would probably be the assassins waiting for me. To murder me. I guess they’re getting impatient.”
“Assassins?!?”
“Yeah, the assassins, keep up. I thought I was the sleep deprived one.”
He grits his teeth, which is… hmm. Maeve needs to tell her brain to focus on important things, not how hot this man threatening her is.
“Why are–” he stops. He slowly lets go of her shoulders, and leans her back onto the floor.
“They’re after Azreal. They’re not after you, at all. They just wanted—” he looks at the ashes of the papers on the ground. He looks back at her. She shrugs.
“Unsportsmanlike.”
He gets up off her in a swift motion, and starts to pace. Maeve slumps into the floor, and it all gets fuzzy. The dizziness catches up to her, until Rumor shakes her awake.
“How many.”
“Hmmmm?” She’s got 2 of 3 eyes open. Middle and left. It’s probably enough.
He shakes her again. “How. Many. You know who they are. Tell. Me.”
She yawns, a bone cracking someone in her jaw. “10.”
He looks at her, directly in her eyes. Hmm. He has… very nice eyes.
“Listen to me. Very, very carefully. You and I are going to make a deal.” He’s holding her in his arms now, which is much nicer than being on the cold floor.
“I am going to… solve this little predicament you and I have gotten ourselves into. You” And he picks her up in one swift motion. She squirms, surprised, but he’s got too tight a grip on her for her to fall. “Are going to sleep. For a long time. And I am going to deal with these… annoyances.”
She’s not really listening, but she nods.
He puts her down on the couch in her office, and tucks a blanket around her. It’s an odd blanket though. It’s very… dark blue. Weird for a blanket made by Brokers.
“And after this, you and I are going to have a talk. We’re going to figure out some terms.” She opens her third eye just enough to see him rake a glance up and down her, a very interested look in his eyes, which. Wow. Flattering. He moves in close to her neck, and whispers in her ear. “And… I think a reward is in order for this one.” She shivers, and he tucks her tighter into the blanket.
He leaves, and Maeve shuts her eyes. She dimly notices the lack of a cape, but doesn’t make the connection until much later.
Hey everyone! We have another fic in store. This time with Azrael and Dorata and one of their first little encounters. And Dorata helping Az and his little dilemma.
When you are a being who requires a stable and steady amount of fresh blood to keep yourself alive, logically you should have a plan in place to keep that stream flowing. Unfortunately for Azrael he had found himself in the less than desirable position where all his usual consorts were so bogged down in official family obligations he couldn’t even enter their offices. Sorting out contracts and deal meetings that had lasted for days behind closed doors and he had “no business being a part of”. Whatever bullshit reason that was.
So Azrael left the apartment to get himself a meal. But that was yesterday morning. He had found himself distracted by the twinkling jewels of a locked down jewelry shop that was practically begging to be painted a new shade of arsonist’s ash. As fun as it is stealing trinkets and burning down buildings it does however take its toll. And 24 hours later in the wee hours of the morning Azrael was running on fumes.
In all their time spent together Rumor’s scheduling habits had rubbed off on Az just enough to instill on him a simple four step backup plan for whenever he managed to get himself into a pickle like this one.
Step One: Selection.
Busy of a city as New Capena was, the warlock of the biggest crime leader in the city was not allowed to simply swoop down upon the streets and snatch up someone like an eagle. That was undignified. Azreal had to be more stealthy in his hunt. So he flew his way down the criss crossing roads of buggy lines until he spotted an opening between two buildings, an alley way perfect for an ambush.
But Azrael was the one who was surprised as he was not met with an empty alleyway like he had hoped, but about 20 feet down was a large golden horned demon dumping a beat up body of someone who didn’t pay their gambling fees in the trash bin beside his bar.
“Dorata was it?” the angel asked through grinning teeth, his wings casting shadows down the alleyway. “I’ve heard all about you through a dear friend of ours,” he paused, “Candy.”
Dorata’s head popped up and a growl grew in his throat, “if you fucking hurt her I swear”.
“Oh no! I’d never lay a finger on her adorable little head darling. In fact, I came here for you” Azrael grinned as he saw the giant relax his clenched fist.
Step Two: Trust.
“In fact” he began again, “I’ve known about you for quite a time Dorata. Even saw you fighting in your prime before your… incident". He glanced down at Dorata’s prosthetic arm decked out in the familiar candy colored paint of his partner. It could almost certainly pack one hell of a punch and he was not in the mood to try and figure that one out. “You run your establishment quite well. I’ve even debated joining in myself for the sheer fun of it, Xander would absolutely have my head for it though.”
Dorata grumbled, “And your point of all this is?”
Az pushed back from his place on the wall and let his wings carry him in a gentle drift around the other. “My point is, I’m a simple man with simple needs. Us Maestros have not only a reputation to uphold but ourselves as well. We have our own needs and means of survival. Things that we must do in order to keep on living our luxurious lives”.
He could feel Dorata’s icy eyes staring daggers into him as he responded “The vampire curse you mean”.
Step Three: Persuasion.
“See you’re getting it!” He nearly completed his circle around Dorata. Delicately pacing in the air oen hand outstretched before him to catch himself should his wings give out on him.
“I come to you with a simple request. Just this once- shit.”
He faltered on the dismount. As he tried to land the blood flooded from his head and Azrael had to brace and catch himself on the wall or risk the iron deficiency getting to him. Dorata cocked his head in surprise. He didn’t move, unsure whether or not to try and help Az to his feet.
What a shitty performance. He laughed it off in an attempt to maintain some of his dignity through humor. “Normally I’d offer to buy you dinner or something first but I can’t really do that If I’m lying passed out on the floor.”
Azrael looked up at the other through his eyelashes like a wounded dog. But with that he saw something in Dorata flinch. Pity perhaps? Not the angle he was hoping for but at this point he was desperate. “I promise it won’t hurt”.
Dorata grumbled out a resigned sigh and pulled back his shirt, “Fine. Just make it quick.”
Step Four: Profit
Azrael kept good on his word. Just a little pinprick and it was over before either of them really realized what had happened. Seemingly in an instant the life returned to Azrael as he stepped away licking the blood from along his teeth. His eyes still locked on the spot of red on his neck.
Fuck.
This is purely a necessity.
Azrael cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. Fluffing his wings he adjusted his posture to a more formal appearance. Reaching into his breast pocket he produced a handkerchief and handed it to the other. “Now. About those drinks?”
Player’s Guide to New Capenna - Availalble for free download here!
Welcome to never-sleeping, art-deco streets of New Capenna, adventurer. There’s plenty that needs doing by someone with your skills, so long as you know how to avoid falling afoul of the families.
New Capenna has quickly become my favourite plane WotC has created since Theros, and seeing as there’s no RPG material for it, I spent this week creating a 5e player’s guide to the setting (while listening to the awesome soundtrack that was commissioned for it on loop)!
The Player’s Guide to New Capenna includes 17 pages of content:
An introduction to the setting for player characters
Halo, the resource the city runs on
Races unique to New Capenna: Cephalids, Raccoonfolk, and Rhox
A guide to the technology and equipment that appears in New Capenna - don’t expect to be carrying around a crossbow or wearing chainmail.
A guide to how each class can fit into the setting, such as:
- Construction worker barbarians of the Riveteers
- Socialite bards of the Cabaretti
- Paladin bruisers of the Brokers
- Assassin rogues of the Maestros
- Divination wizards of the Obscura
-Non family-affiliated gumshoe rangers
Backgrounds for each of the five families: Brokers, Obscura, Maestros, Riveteers and Cabaretti, complete with background, features, spells, tables, and contacts in the other families.
Rules for New Capenna’s vehicles - everything you need for a halo-powered car chase!
This PDF is intended to be something of a living document - one which can be improved and expanded with feedback and use in-game, so please let me know how it’s worked for you in-game, and keep an eye open for updates!
Special thanks to @stickyhunter and @beardburritoid for being a massive help in creating this project!
This PDF is available for free, but if you like my content and want to support me producing more pieces like this, you can support me directly through Kofi or by sending tips through tumblr right here.
Alternatively, if you want to check out my premium published content you can find my library of published adventures and expansions on Dungeon Master’s Guild - if you’re a fan of Theros or Ravnica there’s a lot that might be to your liking, with another big Theros project coming very soon!
So a good friend of ours, Mae, is doing a cover of one of the songs on the New Capenna Soundtrack. She is covering the song, “Angel Inside”. She’s an amazing singer and please check out her cover.
Hey everyone! For our next 9 Hells fic, we have Maeve and Sylvia playing a nice game of chess for their little date. We’ll see who gets to win between these two intellectuals~
“White or black?”
“White. Pawn to e4”
“Pawn to e5”
“Knight to f3”
“Knight to c6”
“Bishop to c4”
“Bishop to c5”
Maeve chuckled to herself. There was something about these dates, because no matter how much Sylvia protested, these were definitely dates that Maeve just loved. The sunlight streamed through the window in Maeve’s apartment, casting a ray onto Sylvia’s profile that made her look absolutely divine. There was nothing else quite like it, Maeve mused, about having a chess partner that matched and challenged you in all the best ways.
The fact Sylvia looked smoking hot while doing so was just a bonus.
Maeve returned all of her focus to the game. Both players were jousting for control of the centre of the board, and each was down a pawn. A classic Sleeping Obscura opening. Maeve moved her knight to threaten a bishop, which Sylvia moved out of the way.
At this level of play, any blunder could spell your doom. As black, Maeve was forced to play more defensively, and Sylvia was also playing conservatively, biting her lip in a way that Maeve was sure violated international regulations. How could someone be so adorable playing chess?!
Of course, that was then Sylvia started to get an advantage. Maeve started to sweat as Sylvia’s rooks lined up, and her pawns advanced. Pawns were swiftly sacrificed by both sides, as Maeve retreated her knights across the board, trying to control boardspace.
Maeve was always a staunch believer in “a good offense is a good defense” and moved her rook across to threaten Sylvia’s queen, winning a bishop instead. Although that rook was promptly lost to the queen. Maeve traded a bishop for a knight, but quickly got herself into a bind, with Sylvia’s knight directly in her backline.
Despite her best efforts, Sylvia remained definitely ahead despite Maeve’s best ideas and counterattacks. Sylvia’s queen decided to park itself not 3 spaces from Maeve’s king, and she had no way of removing it.
So Maeve decided to ignore it, pushing her queen and bishop into a counteroffensive and ignoring the white queen. Sylvia traded a bishop for a knight, but then pushed a pawn scarily close to promotion with a confident smile. She leaned back in her chair, and Maeve suppressed the urge to kiss her. She was losing at chess. Kissing came later.
Sticking to her guns, Maeve pushed a pawn, and threatened her own promotion. Sylvia leaned forward again, and sacrificed a rook to take a knight. The balance of the game shifted quickly in Maeve’s favour, as both players agreed to draw a few moves later.
Sylvia crossed her arms and pouted at Maeve. She grinned in response.
“Now darling, you didn’t think I was just going to let you win, hmmm?” Maeve said, leaning close in. Sylvia stammered as Maeve shifted across the table to slide into the same chair.
“Even if you looked absolutely adorable, that doesn’t mean I’m just going to roll over, you know” Maeve lifted Sylvia’s chin so she could look at her lovely eyes, wide and flustered as they were. Maeve was straddling her at this point, on her knees, holding Sylvia’s chin up. They held the moment, still and silent as the chess pieces, until Maeve leaned in to kiss her.
Hey everyone! Here is the next fic for 9 Hells AU. This time we have a Zain solo fic as we get a peak into him and a little bit of his work environment.
He had five minutes of peace before someone knocked on the door. Five minutes to do whatever he wanted before chaos unleashed. Before negotiations were to be made. He had all the reasons to be bitter, to be angry. In fact he should, but he rolls it right off him instead of sinking in and twisting the way he thinks. He needed to focus. His personal matters shouldn’t quell in business. If the whole economy goes down it’s going to be his fault and no one else. He looked down at the desk of messy papers and reviewed his notes once more.
‘You can meet a challenge with humility, grace and a brave soul, or you can do the opposite. And though these things are never easy, that each time is significant and important, and we need this to get us through, we do get to choose our response to some significances and how open we are to learning the lessons we have sewed. Emerging more empathic than we were before but choosing the wrong choice could turn the tides into a devastating matter…’
He tapped a pen against his chin. He always wondered why he was chosen for this position, how he got here. He knew how he got here technically but yet the memories were still hazy, the pain however, permanently stained his mind. And the scars didn’t help with the reminder. He knew in time that he would remember everything that happened. At least that’s what they said, ‘part of the healing process.’
There was a knock at the door. Early of course. He organized the papers into one pile and set them on the desk.
“You can come in.”
He composed himself, straightened his posture and smiled. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.
In my experience, sharing a bed with multiple people exponentially decreases the amount of time spent actually sleeping, but increases the overall quality of rest. To test this hypothesis, I will be adding a new follower at random to my polycule every night for the next three months.
Welcome to New Capenna slick. If ya wanna survive these streets you need to join up with one of the 5 families. Before you go shopping around and making some accidental enemies let’s see which of the 5 fit ya best.
Hey all! We didn’t see anything like this around and so we made an (admittedly simple to guess) Uquiz for which of the families of New Capenna you should join! Check it out for some random fun!
Okay people were asking about this so I figured I would finish it… Liliana as White! I figured she could use healing magic to mostly slow her aging, but she just let her hair go gray.
