Heskel’s shoulders relaxed as she stepped through the temple doors and smelled the familiar hot chocolate and felt the warmth of all the bustling visitors and staff. She got out of the flow of traffic and settled in a pew, the worn wood in some ways more comfortable than her bed at Trollskull, and prayed briefly.
The sun was just going down, the pink and purple of dusk stretching across the sky above waterdeep, with a waxing gibbous moon above.
Selune, I know you hear me anywhere your light touches, but I’ve come to our house to tell you how grateful I am. You helped me in my hour of need, and I will repay you by repaying your people.
She paused, then added:
I hope you don’t mind our tavern name. I just really didn’t want it to be Hell’s Kitchen.
As she breathed deeply and looked up, she saw a familiar deep gray face peering back at her from behind tinted glasses and broke into a slightly fanged smile.
“Myrafay. Hello.”
“Hi, Heskel.” Said the drow cleric in her airy, gentle voice, putting a narrow-fingered hand on the tiefling woman’s shoulder as she sat next to her.
When first seeing the woman, Heskel had been slightly intimidated by her - the spiderlike palps around her mouth had unsettled her slightly. But she knew that was an unfair judgment to make, and it had been clear within the first ten minutes of talking to Myrafay that she was as good and kind of a devotee of Selune as anyone could hope to be. She was so at peace, so calm. Heskel wondered how she did it.
The tiefling hugged her fellow worshipper briefly and then let go, asking about how the temple had been in the last few days.
Myrafay told her how Adrian and his family had come by again, that the guild of carpenters was being called in to fix some of the oldest sections of the temple, and that they’d gotten some new books on astronomy in lately. The last was said with a wink and a warning to not wear the covers off too quickly.
Heskel protested that books were there to be used, and her dad would want her to stay sharp on her studies - what would he say if he found out she’d been slacking?
“Have you actually written to your fathers lately, girlie?” retorted Myrafay, amused, playing with the ends of her long white braid that shone orange under the setting sun pouring in through the windows. “Seems you’d best, if you’re planning on staying here any longer.”
Heskel bit her lip, flushing slightly as she realized no, they hadn’t explained what they were doing. Sometimes even she forgot they weren’t going back next week, or next month...but no, they had to stay. Squibb wanted the tavern to succeed so badly, and Dosime wanted it too, even Bee...and she had Adrian’s lessons, and her obligation to the Emerald Conclave.
Everything had happened so fast since they’d rescued Floon. Even before that, with the troll and the strixes...she still startled if she saw anything flapping out of the corner of her eye, before realizing it was usually just a pigeon.
“You’re right.” She agreed, fiddling with part of her deep blue robes. They really had to write to their fathers...even if they couldn’t tell them the whole truth.
Even if she couldn’t tell them the truth.
It might not be lying, not really - what reason would they ever have to suspect her of murder? And she was sure it wouldn’t bother Squibb. It should bother him more.
But he probably slept far better than she did every night.
“Plus, I hear that tavern of yours is coming along well - I hope you give discounts for us fellow devouts!”
Myrafay winked at her and Heskel couldn’t help laughing a little, assuring her she would indeed offer a reduced rate for members of the faith, but then sobered, tapping the floor with her staff anxiously.
“So you think it’s all right for us to do this? To bring in money this way? I know my vow, I don’t intend on keeping much for personal gain, just to keep it running, and I know the name might be disrespectful, I’m sor - “
The older woman held up a long-fingered hand to stop her.
“Is it wrong to serve good food and drink? No, you silly girl. As long as your doors are open for those most in need as well. Naming it for Selune...I think she would be honored as long as you run it with kindness and good service.”
The tiefling flushed from the compliment, tinging her blue cheeks purple, and she nodded rapidly as her tail wiggled back and forth.
She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to bring up what had happened on the island without seeming vain.
“Speaking of that, I recently gained a moon soul thanks to our lady’s generosity.” The monk said shyly, looking at the floor. It still felt unreal to feel magical light crackling in her palm, a tiny portion of her goddess’s power granted to her. She felt a gentle, cool power as she did her yoga and meditations now, waiting to be called on if she needed it.
The cleric patted her on the shoulder, and Heskel looked up to see her grinning.
“Good job, girlie! I knew you had it in you! Your need must’ve been great, and you're better attuned to her now! Keep at it!”
She flushed to the tips of her pointed ears and tried to give her thanks in as dignified a way as she could while something darker preyed on her mind between giddy relief and gratitude.
Could this blessing be proof Selune had forgiven her for the kenku she had killed? Or rather, had decided that to do enough good to atone, Heskel needed more power? Perhaps she would lose it if she murdered again. Maybe this was her last chance to keep her soul from eternal corruption. She would have to be more careful, wiser, better prepared.
There was always a better way. She just had to find it.
“Yes...we had to put a poor boy’s soul to rest, and despite how he summoned a demon in life, I believe he doesn’t deserve to suffer. I prayed for him, and for his family.”
The drow’s eyes widened behind her glasses and she whistled.
“That’s not something most gods will look kindly on, no matter his reasons. Was anyone hurt?”
She winced, and Myrafay clicked her tongue.
“Maybe they’ll have mercy on him for his youth. But I can pray with you. Never hurts.”
Both women made the signs of the crescent, gibbous, full, and half moons, and spoke quietly together after Heskel had told her fellow worshipper the child’s name.
O Selune, our heavenly mother, please forgive Herbert his transgressions, and guide his last vestiges into your merciful light, so that he may find peace in death.
After a moment of silence, the tiefling exhaled, and hugged the drow again.
“Thank you, Myrafay.”
“Any time.”
The white-robed cleric left to attend to other duties, and Heskel did as well, wandering back out into her goddess’s night.
I’ve just been Drawing A Lot lately and it extends to dnd, seeing as we are now wanted...again.
Bob (the bear) is mine, Dove (middle top) belongs to @seulim, Jason (top right) is @threetrollsandadryad‘s, Shura (bottom left) is @magsticker‘s, Imzel (middle bottom) is @aquaticlemons’s and Orchard (bottom right) belongs to @divinesmite
- keepsake from his first group of adventuring buddies; maybe a barbarian he was friends with?
- maybe a guy he actually wasn’t super close with, maybe even butted heads with a few times, but they always had each other’s back in a fight, and then they all got wiped out by whatever monster it was
- (waaaaay back in his original campaign it was freaking. sea bears. like from spongebob. that the dm had made into 5e monsters, but that doesn’t make sense in IA)
- bob was the only survivor and maybe it’s because this guy took a hit for him; it’d tie into the meta reason bob was turned into a bear the first time, which was because the dm was like “well you kept complaining about how fragile he was in fights lmao” which apparently his solution to was “gee I should turn cloud’s character into a different species and class as a surprise”
- (don’t be that guy, it worked out fine and I was cool with it but if I had been more invested in bob at the time I probably would’ve been pissed)
- maybe his axe was the biggest thing bob could even salvage from the remains; he tried to offer it to the guy’s family but it had too many painful memories for them, so he hung onto it. because he wasn’t super close to this dude, but he has so much respect for him now; the guy died as bob was trying to get help.
- it’s not a very special looking axe. these were young adventurers, maybe level 4 or 5 in meta terms. but it’s functional, it gets the job done. it’s reliable, just like its former owner, just like bob wants to be. it still has the original owner’s initials carved into the handle (whatever they are, need to invent them, but just for reference).
If I ever take myself too seriously everyone has the right to remind me I have a character named Bobert Roberts who is a bear barbarian.
In perfect fairness when I first made him he was a human bard, but then my original DM turned him into a bear barb when I had to miss a session, lol.
Dick move in principle since he hadn’t asked me, but I didn’t actually give much of a fuck, and I HAD been frustrated with how easily he kept getting wiped in fights with his low HP.
It was definitely an interesting twist and I kept it in his second campaign because @threetrollsandadryad is a nice person and let me do that.
His last name was also decided on communally by my current group and I deeply approved.
