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Calamis Loch

@bladesofgrey.bsky.social

50 followers 100 following 32 posts

Does your stout armor give you peace of mind? Does your holy sword help you sleep at night? 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵. Fantasy RP | MVRP » Story-heavy, Happy to plot. » Current setting: Waterdeep art by offbeatworlds cover by deusuum written by bardlockcafe

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Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

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Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 6d

I just thought they might like to– What? Do I look like a man who knows about flowers?

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 6d

Well, shit. I'll alert the troops.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 6d

Massive, even?

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 6d

That bad, or that good?

Chavir Nach @wildbaemagic.bsky.social · 6d

HHhhooly moly.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

Former conman, convert of Helm;
Swordsage, Gray Guard

» Fantasy RP, D&DRP, MVRP
» Story & Banter, Happy to plot.
» Primary setting: Faerûn
» Mun is 30+, Muse is late 20s
» Written with reference to 3.5e ruleset

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

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Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

𝙆𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙄 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚, 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙. 𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙧𝙧, 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

Her hands still splay across his chest when his eyes snap open, warmth lingering where her fervent prayer had dragged breath, strength, and soul from the Crystal Spire and back into his heart.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

_______

The next time he sees Fiona's face, he's flat on his back on the cobblestone outside of that temple. She's framed in the same starlight that had budded when he left, and the smug visage of that damned red-robed wizard hovers above them.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

And there's true regret that he can't give her more warning than that, but neither does he have time to linger. When she turns to question the man she'd saved, she catches only the tail of his Sideslip.

Back into the fading light of the Teziir streets...

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

"Couldn't be as bad as (that,) whatever ye think's happenin'. We'd have heard rumors..."

"If you'd heard rumors, it wouldn't be half as bad as it is. Just... ready your people. Send word to the other temples if you can spare anyone. We might have a week to stop what's coming."

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

Still he grasps her hand and presses a little more than a fair price to her palm. He's halfway to the infirmary door when he hears her voice, soft, shaken.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

That's what it takes for her resolve to falter. He takes no pleasure in witnessing it, the sudden dread that surfaces in the crease of her brow, but her doesn't offer another opening to impede him, either. He stands at once, grimacing at how light he finds his coin purse.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

Hard truths would have to come out.

"Look, priestess—"

"Fiona."

"...Fiona, then.
Teziir is in danger. If I stay, a great number of people will die." When she only offers a look of tired, unimpressed disbelief, he reluctantly tacks on, "...I'm here on behalf of the Gray Guard."

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

"Loch, then. Don't change a damned thing, yer settin' put 'til dawn at least."

Brushing past her clearly won't work; he'd mistaken her for a cleric, but she wore her armor like a warrior who had seen use for it. Her calling ruled out promise of coin. He truly doesn't have time to dally, here...

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

"Tired and (grateful.) I'll pay my tithes in thanks before I leave, but I need—"

He's baffled to find two strong, calloused hands pressing firmly on his shoulders when he tries to stand. He finally meets her gaze without the fog of poisonous delerium. "Ye (need) rest, Ser Loch—"

"Just Loch."

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

He swings his legs over the side of the healer's cot even as his muscles protest with the ache due a body pushed to its limits. She moves to stop him and he raises his hand, the one without pink, tender skin at his wrist or drying blood down its length, tacking on,

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

It's an answer she wanted, but the wrong question. He shakes his head sluggishly before she can ask.

"My name - Calamis Loch." It's even his real name, which unsettles the most overvigilant corners of his mind. "I'm... tired, obviously."

Exhausted. It doesn't matter. More to be done.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

and his pain fades. The ache draws with it a building fire in his blood he hadn't recognize. No wonder his condition had deteriorated so quickly.

"Ah, got a bit of poison with it, did ye? How're ye feelin'?"

"Calamis." He unclenches his jaw from from punctured leather and pulls it from his mouth.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

She begins to draw the blade free; the sensation of its drag sickens him, and he'd retch if his will failed him. Instead he shouts through the mouth guard and the sound drowns out the prayer of Healing that provides discomfort and relief in equal measure as his anatomy shifts and reforms

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

Before he can manage words, he finds a thick leather pad, hopefully clean, placed between his teeth. He knows well to brace himself, to breathe against the ache of even a gentle hand on the dagger's hilt, and to hold fast to consciousness if he can help it.

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Reposted by Calamis Loch

a fairy riding the wind @quotes.sunder.my · 13d

Time heals little. Time ensures the opportunity for a greater revenge.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

||more to come, leaving work soon

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

This'll bite like a devil, sorry – and I'm told I have hands like the tundra, so, don't say I didn't warn ye."

He's grateful she doesn't push further for his response, though she clearly asked something...

His name. She'd asked his name.

Calamis Loch @bladesofgrey.bsky.social · 7d

The healer, then.

He lets himself relax as much as the pain will allow. His grey eyes fall shut. Her voice... he realizes she's been speaking, possibly to him, but he'd let the pain overwhelm him too much to hear it.

"...Well, I guess we'll be figurin' that out [after] we put your arm together.