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hitbythunder · 3 years

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Waking a Dangerous Curiosity

A Thranduil x Loki story -> read also on AO3

Summary: After their brief trip to Jotunheim, Odin punishes his both sons for breaking the peace treaty with Laufey: they get banished from Asgard and cast out to Middle Earth. Without their divine powers, Loki and Thor soon fall into the hands of the Mirkwood Elves and become slaves at Thranduil's court. As Loki decides to improve his, and his brother's situation, he wakes the curiosity of the Elvenking himself. Warnings: very explicit scenes between elf and Asgardian ;) ************************ The darkness of the night had already covered the sky with its black blanket, which only a few stars could breach with their light, when the Elvenking entered his study. The neatly arranged candles here and there, the large fireplace as well as the many rugs and furs covering the wooden floor composed a quite cozy atmosphere in the manageable room. Although not as secluded as his private chambers, the study was one of Thranduil's safe havens within the large palace which he sought out as often as possible. After pouring himself a well-earned glass of his favourite wine, the silver-haired elf sank graciously onto the soft couch in front of the fire place, the flames casting a warm glow over his dark-grey robe with the crimson mantle on top. While watching the dance of the flames, he could relax from the strain of the day. Dealing with both humans and dwarves on one day was too much to ask of an elf, even for him, and so Thranduil was overly glad to have some peace now. Little did he now it wouldn't last much longer.

Suddenly a knock came from the ornamented wooden door and with a sigh of annoyance, the king permitted entrance to whomever dared to interrupt him in his precious private time. “Adar, forgive my intrusion but this couldn't wait!” Legolas said as he approached the king, his father, who sipped casually at his wine and gestured lazily with his free hand for the younger elf to continue.

“Our rangers captured two men lost in the midst of the Greenwood, far from any known path.” the blonde elf began and Thranduil chuckled at the foolishness of the humans. Many had tried to pass the Greenwood, the largest forest in all of Middle Earth, and most of them had been led astray by the countless winding paths hidden in the thicket. Easy prey for the elvish hunters who would bring them to the palace. There was always some lower work for humans.

“And here I thought the mortals knew what happened to those who enter my kingdom without permission. Apparently they have not learned their lessons!” the king mused and took another sip, obviously finished with this topic and not interested into details. “Proceed as usual, Iôn, and do not disturb me again tonight!” Thanduil turned his gaze towards the flames and dismissed his son who refused to leave however.

“As you wish, but there is more I long to report to you.” Only when he felt the cold cerulean orbs resting on him again, Legolas continued. “Those two men claim to be princes of another realm and demand to be treated as such. Yet they refused to tell me their names as they would only speak with you.”

Thranduil's eyes narrowed and with one final gulp he rose from the couch. The silken clothing gliding down his tall figure and stretching out with a shy rustle. Apparently, the king wasn't finished for today, the spiked crown on his head calling for duty. “I will not tolerate any humans deeming themselves to be superior to our kind, especially if they disrespect my own flesh! Show me those men at once!”

With large strides, the Elvenking walked down the corridor of the palace towards the throne room, the crimson mantle atop his dark-grey robe floating behind him like flames with every step. Followed by Legolas, Thranduil graciously descended the steps to the platform in front of his throne while the prisoners were led in from another flight of stairs on the other side. One of them was blonde, tall and very well-built, the muscles stretching his navy-blue linen tunic in all the right places while the other was of a more athletic statue, with black hair past his shoulders contrasting his pale complexion. And when the two men beheld the silverly king in all his glory, their eyes widening at his dashing appearance, Thranduil chuckled mentally. He had a tremendous impact on other beings, regardless the race.

“Who dares to wander in my woods without my consent?” Thranduil's voice was smooth and vibrant, like luxurious silk brushing gently over one's skin, as it rang in the brothers' ears. Mesmerized by the outstanding looks of the king, they hesitated to answer until the raven-haired one found his tongue again.

“None other than the sons of Odin, the king of Asgard, your highness. I am Loki and this is my brother Thor!” the slim one replied in an almost equally rich voice, gesturing with his slender pale hands. Thranduil mustered the two 'princes' thoroughly from head to toe and the brother's could sense the intense gaze of cerulean orbs on them. Judging from their simple linen tunics, their slightly disheveled hair and some spots of dirt on their skin and clothes, neither of them looked royal to the elf's eyes.

“Neither the name of your father nor of this realm you claim to be from sounds familiar to me.” Thranduil then said and began to slowly pace in front of the men, his arms behind his back. “So spare me your lies, mortal!”

“This is the truth!!” Thor yelled out and as soon as he slightly stepped forward, the surrounding guards had their swords and lances pointed at both brothers. Thranduil turned to look at them with an ice-cold expression, the thick brows at the top of the perfectly straight nose knitting.

“My own valet appears more royal to me than you do. So tell me, 'princeling', why I should not let you two rot in my dungeon for wasting my time?!” the silver elf hissed at the blonde and Thor was so close to loose control and fight his way free – just to punch that haughty elf in his porcelain face.

Let's see if it shatters!

However, Loki was quick enough to pick up the word again before his brother could worsen the situation any more. Normally, those elves wouldn't stand a chance against the gods but in their current state, the brothers would most certainly loose. “Because our looks are not sufficient to judge our descent from, your highness. If you would con-” Loki tried to be as polite as possible yet he had no chance to finish. Thranduil didn't even listen properly as he was still in a glaring-battle with Thor, who refused to avert his gaze as a sign of defeat. And this blunt insolence enraged the Elvenking.

“Enough! I will not have more of your tainted words!” Thranduil stepped back and beheld the brothers one last time. “No one trespasses my land without punishment! Time has no meaning to an elf while you shall spend your days in a cell of my dungeon!”

Loki was shocked at this announcement, not resisting the guards who grabbed him while Thor fought with everything he got. Finishing the matter for today and hoping to return to his study, Thranduil turned away from the intruders and walked towards the stairs he had descended from earlier.

“Maybe you reconsider your story then!”

Two full moon-cycles had passed since the gods had arrived to the Woodland Realm. Still being imprisoned in separated cells, they had finally begun to accept their fate. Being cast out and stripped off their powers by their own father, the brothers had to adapt to mortality and this world they were now forced to live in. While it didn't take long for Loki to come to this simple (but painful) realization, Thor struggled considerably. The hurt of his father's repudiation and the loss of his beloved hammer Mjölnir was too much for him to cope with. The first days of their imprisonment, Thor had yelled and hammered against the bars with all his strength, he had ushered every curse he knew and raged like a storm inside the small cell. But time nagged at him until his stubbornness broke and he too resigned to his fate. The dungeons became quiet again.

As Thranduil had foreseen, the brothers didn't claim to be princes anymore after their stay in the dungeons and broken as they were, they finally could be used for work. Slavery was a common concept among the Silvan-Elves of Mirkwood and due to the mortality of humans, there was a constant need for labor-force. Thor was too crude and blunt to be around high-born elves, so he was put to the workers where his strength could be used ideally. His tasks stretched from chopping wood, carrying heavy bags of supplies or stocks, to simple stable work. In contrast, Loki's manners and outstanding wisdom had soon granted him a promotion to the position of a palace-servant, his eloquence and skills being a welcomed trait among the elves. Rarely did a human fit so well into their society as the raven-haired man did. Clad in a forest-green simple elvish robe and with his now middle-length hair combed back neatly, Loki could have been easily mistaken for an elf.

While being glad to be able to work instead of rotting in the dungeons, the brothers terribly missed their home and friends. Yet they would speak about other topics when Loki came for a quick visit to the stables whenever he could. At least their brotherly bond had been fortified by this dilemma.

Summer arrived and when the reports of the raven-haired servant's remarkable qualities became more and more frequent, Thranduil decided to see for himself if that was true. And against his expectations, Loki didn't fail to impress when he was assigned to be one of the king's valets. At first, he had seen his promotion as a well-earned reward but after some days in the silver elf's mesmerizing presence, it had turned out to be a torture instead. Shivers ran down Loki's spine whenever Thranduil addressed him with his intoxicating voice and the burning gaze of those cerulean orbs was hot on his skin. Loki couldn't deny that the king had gotten under his skin, much more than he anticipated, yet he had still to find out if the reverse case was also true.

Soon Loki caught himself staring at the other male longer than what was appropriate and he quickly looked away, hoping that no one had noticed. Unfortunately, Thranduil was a very perceptive being and within no time he was aware of the raven-haired man's interest in his person. With a sly smirk at the corners of his thin lips, Thranduil watched in amusement as Loki carefully (but very hasty) cleared the dining table in front of him. To say the elf's ego was flattered was needless to say. When the four valets had finished, the king decided to spend the early afternoon in the library and rose.

“You there, follow me!” he commanded and Loki slightly hesitated before he obeyed. Silently they walked through many corridors until they entered the grand library which was rather abandoned at the current hour, only two other elves were making copies of ancient books to preserve the knowledge. The literature Thranduil was seeking was stored in the back of the library where also a small living room suit and a wooden desk were arranged near a window. While Thranduil sat down at the desk and flipped through the pages, Loki stood at some distance and waited for instructions, not knowing why the king had requested his presence at all.

“Hand me that thick book with the blue cover!” the king then ordered, looking up from the text while Loki turned towards the shelf. Thranduil once again mustered the man, his tall and slim figure, his pale smooth skin and the onyx hair cascading down his shoulders. For a human, Loki was incredibly handsome, almost of elvish beauty, and for a split second Thrandui questioned the man's origin. When Loki had found the book and spun around again, he inhaled sharply because the king was suddenly standing in front of him. Even without his crown, the elf was taller by almost a head and staring intimidatingly down upon him but Loki stood his ground. Only when Thranduil's hand emerged from the folds of his aegean robe and reached his face, tracing along his cheek, Loki's calm composure faltered.

“I have never before seen a human such as you....” Thranduil whispered, his finger brushing over Loki's parted lips. “Waking my curiosity like you do is a rare and dangerous endeavor...” A little harshly, the elf grabbed the raven-haired man's chin, lifting it up and forcing him even closer, their faces barely apart as Thranduil leaned down and purred. “….because it demands for utter satisfaction!”

Another shiver rushed through the Trickster and his famous smirk appeared on his lips, his emerald orbs sparkling in excitement. Apparently, he had some impact on the elf as well and Loki was more than determined to use that for his advantage. Thus he grabbed the hand which held his chin and pulled it away a bit. “Then let me sate you!” Loki then purred and licked across Thranduil's palm with a mischievous grin. While his face didn't change at all, a wild flame of desire was sparking within the Elvenking, which could only be discovered through his hungry eyes.

“Adar? Are you in here?” A familiar voice suddenly called and Thranduil had to let go of the mortal, whispering barely audible into his ear before he did so. “I expect you in my chambers tonight!” And with that, the Elvenking withdrew and walked away towards his son, leaving Loki with a racing heart behind the shelf.

When Loki closed the large wooden door behind him he had already made up a plan in his mind: he would use his charms to gain power over the Elvenking and then free himself and his brother from slavery. They would live like royals again! Determinedly and self-consciously, Loki followed the faint glow of light coming from the adjacent chamber which turned out to be the master bedroom. A high wall of dark-brown wardrobes filled with more than just clothes stood tall on both sides of the entrance and the back of the room was filled almost entirely by the huge bed. Out of finest ebony wood with metal inlays, elvish engravings and antlers as decoration, the bed throned on a pedestal, its dark-grey silken cushions and blankets neatly arranged and inviting. The candle bearers here and there gave off a soft warm light and covered the entire room with a faint orange glow. To all the dark wood around him, Thranduil's silvery figure was a stark contrast, his long hair floating past his shoulders as he turned around. The king still wore his dark-grey robe with the silver linings, yet the collar had been opened to reveal even more of the flawless skin beneath than usual, as Loki noted immediately as he approached. The king poured some drinks at a small table near the bed.

“Drink!” Thranduil commanded in a low voice as he handed his valet a goblet of wine, their fingers touching briefly during the handing over and sending sparks through both men. Their eyes met in a heated gaze, nothing but hungry desire clearly visible in those cerulean ones. With a triumphant smirk, Loki emptied the goblet in one go and 'accidentally' spilled some drops onto his chest, spoiling the robe. “Oh my, how clumsy of me!” he teased as he began to unbutton the top of the robe with his free hand, his slender fingers skilfully removing one after another while Thranduil watched every of his moves. When Loki's abdomen came into view, one remaining drop of wine gliding down the hills of his chest, the Elvenking couldn't restrain himself any longer and dashed forward.

In the next moment, he already had Loki in his grip, one hand snaking underneath the robe and around his waist while the other cupped the Trickster's face and pulled him closer. Pressed against the taller elf's chest, Loki didn't resist when Thranduil forced their lips to melt in a passionate kiss. Pleasant waves of delight rushed through him and when the elf's tongue intruded his mouth, Loki felt a warm tingling down his loins. In order to tease the king and make him desperate for more, Loki then took hold of Thranduil's right hand and guided it downwards, allowing the elf to cup his already growing arousal. Thranduil exhaled sharply and separated their lips, his breath already more laboured and his orbs clouded with lust as he stared down upon the smirking raven-haired man.

“What a minx you are...” The king said in a low husky voice and in full awareness of Loki's intentions, he began to massage him, adding just the right pressure. Loki couldn't help but moan. “... but I am the one in control here!” Suddenly, Thranduil grabbed a fist full of Loki's black hair and pulled, forcing his head back and leaving his throat exposed. Licking along his neck in turn with planting hot kisses along the way, the elf made his way to the Trickster's ear, licking and sucking at the lobe.

“Let's see if you can satisfy me thoroughly, little minx!” Thranduil purred seductively, delicately squeezing Loki's cock in his hand, before he rather roughly dragged him over to the bed.As soon as Loki landed on the soft mattress, he turned on his back and continued to unbutton himself – with both hands now since he sensed the king's impatience. The elf may have caught him off guard and managed to coax a moan out of him but Loki would win this battle of power and dominate the king himself. He had to, for his as well as for Thor's sake. The undressing wasn't fast enough for Thranduil, so he ripped his robe open with his hands, the buttons popping off and flying across the room. Slowly the dark silk slid past the elf's shoulders and glided down his body, past his hips until it pooled around his feet and Loki halted in his tracks at the sight. Naked and completely pure, Thranduil stood proudly at the end of the bed, his whole body glowing silverly and as Loki's gaze travelled south, his eyes widened.

With a predatory chuckle, Thranduil then knelt down over the other male and in one swift movement ripped the green robe apart and pulled it away from under the Trickster. Gathering his thoughts again, Loki then sat up and let his hands roam over the elf's broad chest, admiring the well-built figure in front of him. Thranduil wasn't as bulky as Thor but still much more muscular than Loki – a quite pleasing fact – and the elf too enjoyed being touched this way, his proud erection twitching whenever Loki's hands came a little closer.

“I shall quench every ounce of your desire before the night is over!” Loki declared ever so self-confidently, pulling the silverly elf down beside him and trying to align his cock properly. He would mount the haughty king and make him kneel eventually. Out of nowhere, Thranduil then used his elvish strength to grab Loki's arms, pin them over his head and put shackles around his wrists, the polished silver sparkling in the candle light. “W-what...??” Confused and quite surprised at the sudden turn of events, Loki tried to wriggle free but to no avail, while Thranduil chuckled darkly at his prey.

“What made you think I would let you reign over me?” Now all his true emotions came forth, no hiding anymore, and his face lit up with pure joy. “On the contrary, my dear princeling, I shall be ruling over every fibre of your body!” And with that, the elf dived down and closed his mouth around one of Loki's nipples, sucking and biting the nub delicately. Again Loki couldn't suppress a moan, louder and more wanton this time, his pulsating member poking against the elf's belly.

“So responsive to every touch...” Thranduil whispered more to himself as he tasted the other nipple and began to rub his hips against the male beneath him, pressing his length against the inside of Loki's thigh. With his heart racing and his chest heaving heavily, Loki now realized that he had totally underestimated the elf's subtleness and charm – not to mention his size! Maybe it had been a mistake to attract the king's attention. In awe Loki had to endure the purposeful caressing of the slender hands as they discovered his body, while Thranduil skilfully used his mouth and tongue to push all the right buttons of Loki's body. Thranduil bit down his neck, one hand massaging his balls while the other cupped his behind only to search for the desired entrance. Once found, the king didn't hesitate to shove a finger inside and oh, Thranduil had long digits.

“Aaah... Th..Thranduil!” Loki moaned between breaths when he felt another finger stretching him and when they hit the most sensitive spot within him, Loki arched his back as much as he could underneath the larger male. “Aaahhh!!!”

“There it is!” Thranduil purred in a low voice laden with so much lust, it would have let anybody faint yet somehow Loki was still there, his cock throbbing wildly and begging for release. Thus he tried desperately to rub himself against the elf on top to create some friction but then Thranduil hoisted himself up on both arms, his fingers slipping out of the god. Loki whimpered at the loss of body contact like a dirty whore but he was beyond caring. All he wanted was that elf to fill him deep and good, to be impaled like never before and serve the silverly king as a means for satisfaction, knowing that this would surely trigger his own release. With his hair already dishevelled from the wriggling, black strands framing the porcelain face tinted in a strong shade of crimson from the blush and his emerald eyes giving away all his current needs, Loki just lay there and looked up at the handsome elf.

“What a sight you are... all flustered and yearning for my cock!” Thranduil assessed, his long silver hair gliding past his shoulders as he moved his head a little to the side, his cerulean orbs sparkling brightly. “Since I am willing to grant you your wish....” the elf reached down and clasped his own erection, pumping a few times to harden even more, before he aligned himself in front of Loki's hole. “...you shall have it all!”

With that, Thranduil shoved himself deep into Loki, tremendously stretching his muscles so that the raven-haired man rung for air. While a little time for adjustment might have been necessary, the Elvenking began at once to move his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both men. In his former life as a prince of Asgard, Loki had already made some experiences regarding intimacies between men but never had it been so intense. He felt like a virgin all over again, and the fact that he was at the mercy of the Elvenking almost tipped him over the edge. All the while, Thranduil hadn't averted his intense gaze from the man beneath him, yet at the increasing pleasure building inside him, the king couldn't help but close them briefly and relish in the sensation of Loki's flesh around him.

“By the Valar!” Thranduil hissed when he felt Loki contracting around him and his one hand quickly flew to the untended cock between them, pinching the top in a distinct way. “Don't you dare to come without my permission!” the elf growled and spun the smaller man around with little effort between thrusts. Loki screeched out loud when Thranduil was at an angle that allowed him to go even deeper but the elf refrained from doing so. Instead he grabbed Loki by the hair and pulled his head up, forcing his back to arch, while he himself knelt behind the Trickster.

“Beg me to fuck you harder!” Thranduil commanded, emphasizing his order by a savoury slap on Loki's butt which was currently on splendid display. “Aaahhh!! P-Please, f-f-fuck me harder, T-Thranduil!” Loki somehow managed to say and oh, he would come so hard if not for this damned hand pinching his tip. Enjoying every minute, Thranduil then pressed Loki's upper body down while keeping the lovely behind up and resumed the penetration, sliding his long shaft all in up to his pubis.

“What...” - thrust - “...a salacious....” - thrust - “...princeling...” - thrust - “... you are!”

Sensing his own climax approaching, Thranduil increased his pace while smacking Loki's cheeks again, square across both, and then grabbed the smaller man at the back of the neck, forcing him further down and improving the angle of his thrusts. Loki's face was all distorted by lust, his whole body trembling and covered in pearls of sweat. He was a complete mess and such an arousing sight! Thranduil's eyes couldn't feast enough on it thus he made a simple decision.

“You are mine, Loki...” The Elvenking declared between laboured breaths, his hips slapping against the other male's soft butt. “And now come for your king!”

And with that the elf stopped pinching the tip and instead clutched the shaft of the Trickster while continuing to fuck him vigorously. With his name rolling off the king's tongue still ringing in his ears, Loki arched his back even more and pressed himself agains the king. Two more thrusts was all it took to trigger the long-yearned for wave of his apex and Loki held his breath as it washed over him with full force. Thranduil recognized the contraction around his throbbing pole with an animalistic grunt and rode it out as much as possible, milking Loki dry with his already slick hand. Then the Elvenking allowed himself to get lost in ecstasy, unleashing spurts of his hot semen into the raven-haired man and filling him until the juice gushed out again.Loki had already collapsed and lay paralysed on his belly, every limb heavy and numb, when Thranduil removed himself again and sat up. With a contempt sigh, the elf brushed through his slightly disarranged hair with his clean hand, removing the loose strands from his face, and then looked down at his panting valet with a sly smile.

“My curiosity is not satisfied as promised... so come here, little minx!” the Elvenking purred as he grabbed Loki's still parted legs and pulled him closer to his lap.

#thranduilx loki #smut #oneshot

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zichiandhisnonsense · 6 years

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dont leave us hanging like that. now you have to tell us all about these characters.

Hue.

Okay, so chances are you might know about Zefri already. If not, go here. He actually has a blog. As for the others...

Sassy and flamboyant wizard who probably should have been a bard

This guy is Ephriam Skyblade, a human Bladesinger. Now those of you who know your d&d are probably thinking “Zichi, what the fuck, only elves can be bladesingers”. And you would be right, if I played him in one of the canon settings like Greyhawk/forgotten realms/sword coast etc... No, he appeared in homebrew worlds where the DM allowed it.

When Ephriam applied to a wizard school that specialized in Bladesingers, the headmaster (who was a racist elf) figured he’d milk some tuition fees from this dumb human before he dropped out. Unfortunately, Ephriam aced his studies. Basically, where Ephriam struggled with conventional bladesinging, he used what his bardic mother taught him to adapt and improvise. When his peers and tutors were getting very aggressive with Ephriam, he decided it was time to bail... In the process of bailing however, he seduced and eloped with a half-drow woman who was the headmaster’s ‘servant’. Ephriam and Lyndis would have been perfectly happy to go their own way, but the slightly-crazy-and-senile-at-this-point headmaster tracked them down and cast a spell on Lyndis, trapping her on another plane of existence. The headmaster laughed at Ephriam, saying it would be a hundred years before he would find Lyndis again. Ephriam sassed back, saying the headmaster said the same thing about his studies, and he’d find her in a year. That’s where his wanderlust and travelling turned from aimless seeking of beauty in the world to a personal quest to find a way to reunite with his wife.

Magical university professor who is mocked; insulted and DARVO'd by the entire party and will probably enact his revenge at some point

Unfortunately, I’m not playing this character any more, because I had something of a falling out with the group I was in and decided “fuck it, it’s not worth ruining my evening”. But basically, Horatio Crestfall was the son of a paladin knight-turned-noble, but unlike his father, Horatio was physically weak. Rather than try forcing himself to be his father’s copy, Horatio turned to magical study as a wizard. He gained a rather unique reputation at school because he did not see much in magical rivalry, thinking clerics, wizards and druids were all viable and equal (in-game, he was a theurgy-wizard, because the party needed some decent healing magic). He ended up being the professor that got all the trouble-kids, or the kids who didn’t make the school look good. Yes, pretty elves and cunning humans look great to the public as wizards, but tieflings, goblins and dwarves are frequently shoved onto Horatio. Horatio originally joined the party by basically one of his apprentices botching a teleportation spell badly.

There was also a sub-plot in that he’s an aasimar but doesn’t know it and every time he uses the radiant soul ability, he has no memory of it. His mother was an angel who abandoned the family to protect them from a powerful devil, but we never got to that point before I lost my patience with the pasty white boys insulting my character and their obsessive use of the N-word.

World's best dwarven wizard prince (no that category is NOT mindlessly small)

While not my first character, strictly, Flint Bronzelight was my first proper character, the first character I played in a group that knew what it was doing. He found magic fascinating and wanted to study it under an arcane perspective rather than traditional divine and priesthood. Fortunately, the Bronzelights were never a conventional clan, being traders and inventors, pioneers of black-powder firearms. His father permitted him to go abroad to study. By the time his studies were complete however, Flint had a gnawing curiosity and desire to learn more, so he enacted an old Bronzelight tradition, to leave home and seek his fortune, which he would do through his magic.

Also, he ended up carrying a magnifying glass around and I eventually bought a real-life magnifying glass and would slowly bring it up from beneath the table whenever Flint got curious about something. The first time I did it was met with great enthusiasm.

Evil Overlord Paladin who WILL kill 3/5ths of the party

Devrique Crownbreaker was half orc peasant under the rule of a fat, obese and cruel man who used money and power to hire thugs to do his bidding. Trodden on, beaten and disrespected, the boy was fueled by rage until the day that nobleman overstepped his authority and had Devrique’s father killed for insolence (he hadn’t actually done anything, the noble was just feeling cruel). Now a man, Devrique snapped and vowed to see the nobleman dead by his own hands. A vow he would uphold very swiftly. Biding his time, Devrique struck when the lord’s mercenary forces were at their lowest and slaughtered his way through. The fat old man begged for his life, offering money, power, everything he could want. Devrique slew the man without even a response, taking the fiefdom as his own.

Devrique ruled with an iron fist. He demanded obedience, but rewarded loyalty. Those who served the kingdom received Devrique’s protection and shared in his riches. Those who defied him or threatened his people, he offered them a sword and a duel, to decide through strength who was in the right.

I can’t remember how exactly the game he was in went, but I think he was forced to leave the little kingdom he built to defend it. I think mindflayers were threatening to attack it, but I’m not sure.

Grumpy dwarf cleric forced into team dad role

Halrin Stonebeard, last of the Stonebeard clan. As a youth, Halrin was an orphan raised in a temple of Jarbaleth the Forgemaster. With no known family, Halrin took the cloth and priesthood eagerly, but he was dissatisfied with just praying and healing wounds. He wanted to go out and fight evil on the front-lines, to protect people rather than heal the wounds after evil had struck. With the chapel’s high priest blessing his mission, he took to the surface with his hammer and shield and fought the good fight.

For a few years, a good fight he did, until he was ambushed by goblins. Despite the ambush, Halrin slew half of the goblins and their wicked shaman chief before falling. But the goblins were not done. In revenge for their fallen leader, the goblins performed a ritual that fused Halrin and Grettick’s souls into a dagger, dooming the cleric to untold time with only a cruel monster as company.

200 years would pass by before Halrin’s soul was released from the dagger. During that time, Halrin would discover that his clan had been nearly wiped out. Dragons had attacked his clan homes, scorching his clan halls and leaving them condemned. Surviving Stonebeards believed the clan cursed and so forsake the name, taking the name of the clans who took them in. But Halrin, stout and stubborn, refused to give up. With his second chance at life, he returns to fighting evil, with the goal of slaying the dragons who attacked his clan home and inspiring faith in the name Stonebeard.

flirty cleric girl who got retconned into a demon spawn bc the party wanted to be massive douchebags.

This was my character before Horatio in that group I have disagreements with. Basically, when I first joined, the GM said the party lacked a decent healer, only having a bard who always preferred shooting to anything bardic and probably should have been a ranger imo. But regardless, I rolled a cleric first, a life cleric Crystal Starwell, who was a cheerful, playful and flirty woman. The DM had an interesting way of introducing my character. The party was hunting a demon, and my character would be introduced having been mind-controlled by the demon, but the party’s influence would help her break out...

Unfortunately, the characters everyone was playing (and some of the players too) were complete dicks. They were constantly convinced that I was a spy or double-agent who would stab them in the backs. They insulted and belittled her, never gave her a share of the treasure saying she’d have to “earn their trust”. Never mind the fact she was healing, buffing, protecting and raising dead all the time...

I eventually got the message and tried to swap to a more serious, less happy-go-lucky character, but in order to justify my characters sudden mid-sungeon disappearance, the DM decided “oh wow she’s a demon after all”. Stiiiill a little sore about that, tbh.

#Anonymous

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