mickume/dnd_drow · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"Uh, thanks. Not like it was hiding."
"The beast is very much dead, my dear, I doubt there’s a need to inspect it." Astarion piped up stiffly as she bent down at the boar’s side, smoothing her hand along its flank. Not even the ants had gotten to it yet.
"Heavens forbid she check for maggots." Shadowheart snorted. The elf sneered at her.
Riphi drew her dagger out of her boot, flipping it around. "Let’s see if the meat’s as good as it seems." She cut carefully at its front foot, bracing for the warm rush of blood against her fingers, and – nothing.
"Um," She slashed along its flank. Still nothing but bloodless tissue and bone. She’d never seen such pristine gore. "This boar, uh, has nothing in it."
Lae’zel bent down next to her, pushing on the wound as if to coax the blood to the surface. No luck. She hissed. "Exsanguinated. This beast was not slaughtered for its meat."
She blinked back at the githyanki, wide-eyed. "What does that mean?"
The warrior tsked, staring down her flat nose at Riphi like she was addressing a child. "What else, istik? A vampire roams this land, and is desperate for sustenance."
"Oh, perfect." Gale sighed.
"Sublime." Karlach added.
Behind Riphi, Astarion shifted from one foot to the other, restless.
"A vampire," She marveled, tracing her fingers along the two harsh divots at the boar’s pulse point, just behind its ear. "They must be starving."
"Is that – do you have sympathy for it?" Astarion’s incredulity sounded angry.
Riphi felt the high points of her cheeks turn pink as she met his critical eye over her shoulder. His handsome face was screwed up cartoonishly, regarding her with something akin to horrified disgust. It made her shrink in on herself. "Well – yes, I guess I do. Boar blood. Seems nasty."
"Would you rather it be you?" There was laughter in Shadowheart’s voice.
"I wouldn’t go that far."
"Should we, like, up security?" Wyll pondered, hands on his hips.
"How the fuck do you up security in an open-air campsite, Wyll?" Karlach chuckled, teasingly derisive.
"Okay, tone–"
"I will not miss the sleep, so I will keep watch. No one will be made into a meal tonight, I assure you." Astarion cut in swiftly, jaw clenched. Riphi worried his molars would crack.
"Are you sure you don’t want to trance, at the very least? You look a bit," She gestured vaguely at her own face. "Peaky."
"Goodness, paladin, you sure know how to make a man feel good about himself," Astarion snapped. Riphi toed at the dirt under her shoe, sheepish. "I will be keeping watch tonight. End of discussion."
He stepped over the boar and continued down the path without a single backwards glance. "Now, I’d like to go turn someone’s innards into their outtards, if it’s all the same to you."
"Go for it." Riphi called back feebly, ears burning with shame and folded against her head. Nearly every conversation she tried to have with the eidz ydbr ended with one of them feeling humiliated.
"Bit tense between the two of you, isn’t it?" Karlach observed, quite uselessly.
Wyll chortled, elbowing her in the ribs. "Good eye, mate. How’d you figure?"
Shadowheart touched her shoulder briefly, feather-light. "It’s no skin off of your back, Riphi. He seems like quite the difficult man."
Gale hummed his agreement. "Yeah, Riff. Bit of a bitch, that one."
Wyll rolled his shoulders. "He’s also a bloody liar, but that’s neither here nor there."
Lae’zel seemed shocked that anyone in their group had been able to match her level of perception. "You sensed it as well?"
"What’s he lying about, do you think?" Riphi asked quietly.
Wyll stabbed a finger in the air. "Well, first of fucking all, he bears the name of an elven child. Astarion – high Elvish for "little star’. Little. Elves reach maturity and select an adult name for themselves when they turn one hundred. He claims to be over two hundred years old, and yet his name implies he’s still a child."
A strange surge of protectiveness welled up in Riphi, one she was certain Astarion wouldn’t reciprocate. "There’s a million innocent explanations for that. I’m no expert in elves, but doesn’t the naming ceremony involve parents? Perhaps his were – indisposed."
"Dead, you mean." Shadowheart corrected bluntly.
"That’s just tradition, easily broken if necessary," Wyll dismissed with a wave of his hand, "If that were the case, he would have, and should have, named himself."
"Maybe he just never got around to it?" Riphi suggested weakly.
Wyll blinked at her slowly, unimpressed. "It’s not really something elves get to skip over."
"Well, it’s none of our business regardless, is it?" She snapped, tail flicking with irritation.
"Don’t go to bat for him, now." Karlach muttered.
Wyll raised his hands in mock surrender, eyebrows at his hairline. "Easy, paladin. Just stating what I know."
Riphi inhaled harshly through her nose, then exhaled, shuddering. "What else?"
Gale shifted. "I’ve worked in the lower city for years, and I’ve never heard of a magistrate named Astarion, nor have I ever seen him. Baldur’s Gate is big, but it’s not that big."
"So he’s lying about his job. Your point? It’s not like the rest of us have been open books with each other, either."
"Not discussing my past with strangers is different than outright lying about it and telling stories easily disproved." Shadowheart pointed out.
"Maybe he’s just covering for a less savory profession. It’s brutal out on the streets," Karlach offered diplomatically. "I know plenty of people who do things who aren’t eager to advertise themselves off the clock."
"People who do things?" Lae’zel echoed, cavillous.
Karlach huffed. "You know what I mean."
Gale made a puzzled little noise. "But his clothes – he wears silk. Sex workers don’t wear silk."
"Maybe not the ones you know."
"It would make sense. He is very beautiful, for an istik."
"Please, can we not ask him if he’s a sex worker–" Riphi pleaded to no one in particular.
"This is veering into strange territory," Wyll interrupted, brows furrowed. "If Karlach’s right, then it really is absolutely none of our business, and we won’t breathe a word of our theory-crafting in his presence either way."
Murmurs of assent.
Gale cleared his throat. "Why are you so defensive of him anyway, Riff?"
Riphi squared her shoulders, standing as tall and proud as her slight frame would allow. "It is my oath. I protect those who cannot protect themselves. If the rest of you are against him, then I am obligated to stand at his side."
"You just saw him fight, did you not? Astarion is perfectly capable of protecting himself–"
She bared her teeth in a snarl. The wizard’s mouth snapped shut. "You speak his name while his back is turned. He is not here to defend his own name, so I will."
A sharp, cutting laugh. "Oh, pretty paladin, that is simply adorable."
Riphi whipped around and came practically nose-to-nose with the man of the hour, who was smirking like a cat with a canary under his paw. Her face exploded with heat. His grin only widened.
Wyll sighed. He sounded a thousand years old. "Don’t be an ass, elf. She just stuck her neck out for you."
"And I am ever so grateful for her sacrifice." Astarion drawled, practically a coo, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger and giving her head a gentle shake, like she was some beloved, ill-behaved pet. Riphi yanked herself out of his grasp with a shrill hiss, tail thrashing. He chuckled, low and mean.
"See if I ever do it again, zhebfaexev izhezhemadz."
"Yes, yes, whatever that means. Any-old-how," He gestured at the road ahead of them, flippant. "I walked as far ahead as I could get without needing to cover my own ass. Seems those filthy little creatures ransacked an entire town. They’re up on the rooftops and everything. The good news is that they seem particularly stupid, and easily swayed."
"Zevlor did say that the goblin camp was on the other side of a settlement," Wyll conceded with a nod. "Onward, then. We’ll try to convince them to let us walk freely, but if not–"
"Then they are without honor, and therefore mine to take." Riphi finished savagely, storming ahead of the group. She hoped the goblins were feeling stubborn. She needed a moving target to take her embarrassment out on.
"What did I do?" Astarion asked, all sugar sweetness and feigned innocence.
Karlach snorted. "Fucked up a perfectly good paladin is what you did."
The rooftop goblins died by her hand, and their group split up to cover more ground, scavenging for whatever the nearby camp had deemed useless. Riphi had never felt more like a vulture in her whole life.
She sifted through a pile of books with the toe of her boot, hoping that a title would catch her eye and provide her with some much needed entertainment. Not that the group she had found herself in wasn’t a riot, they most certainly were, but something for her to do once it got quiet at night would be greatly appreciated.
Riphi’s head snapped up suddenly, her ears piqued. Someone was approaching the house on rapid, nearly silent feet. She drew her mace with a snarl and made to meet them at the front door, only for Astarion to poke his shiny silver head around the corner. He grinned at her, devilish and exhilarated and genuine, wine red eyes sparkling with mirth. "At ease, darling, at ease! Come, I must show you something, it’s hilarious."
She stayed silent, eyeing him warily. He sighed, arms flopping back down to his sides. "No one else will come with me, so will you indulge me, just this once? I’ll make it worth your while."
"Good to know I’m your last choice for company." She grumbled, but acquiesced, falling into step behind him as he led her through the ransacked streets.
Astarion tossed a smirk at her over one shoulder. Her stomach shimmied in response. "Oh, perish the thought, pretty paladin. You were merely the furthest away from the scene of the crime."
He led her a short ways outside of the town’s walls and towards a dilapidated warehouse, its wide double doors shut tight. From beyond those doors came the most horrendously loud and vulgar sounds of pleasure Riphi had ever heard in her life.
She stopped short. "What the hell, Astarion–"
He shushed her frantically, finger to his still smiling lips. "There’s an ogre in there, dearest. Step quietly."
She paused. "Is the ogre–"
"No, the ogre is not on top."
Astarion snickered, wolfish. "Come here, come." He beckoned her closer to the nearest wall. Riphi held her chestplate off of her body so that it wouldn’t clank.
The wood had rotted away enough that they were both able to peer inside at the same time. Riphi slapped a hand over her own mouth to smother a cackle. "Is that a-a fucking bugbear?"
Astarion shushed her softly again, like she was a fussy babe, but his shoulders shook with his own laughter. "Topping an ogre, yes."
She grabbed his arm for stability as she giggled madly, soft velvet over cool, wiry muscle. He tensed under her fingers, but didn’t shake her off.
"Gods, should we knock?"
"Are you insane?" She whispered fiercely, still grinning.
He tilted his head down to whisper in her ear. "Or perhaps we should just throw the doors open, see what they do–"
She hauled him away, releasing him only when they’d made it back inside the town’s walls. They fell easily into step with one another. "I cannot believe an ogre is getting more action than I am. Ridiculous."
He purred, "I could remedy that easily, my dear–"
"Shut up." She shoved him so hard he stumbled several feet off of the dirt path, ears burning crimson.
"You’re no fun at all." He pouted, brushing nonexistent debris off of his shoulders.
"You’re insufferable." She sniffed, quickening her steps to pull in front of him.
"Come now, pretty paladin–"
She only walked faster. "Nope, no. You’ve been dicking around this whole time. Go find something of use or I’ll throw your bedroll off a cliff."
He scoffed, but pivoted and started walking back the way he came. "What a cruel mistress you are."
She shook her head sharply, cheeks flaming, a vain attempt to dislodge thoughts of him and his offer to relieve her of her virginity (not that he knew that he’d proposed he be the one to deflower her), sighing happily when she happened upon Karlach, who was sorting through a living room chest. Her fellow tiefling’s friendly face and wide smile would surely put to rest any lingering thoughts of porcelain skin and hooded red eyes.
"Mydda, zhexezhebyr," She greeted softly as she settled down in the dusty chair next to Karlach, staring up at the sky through the hole in the ceiling. "How goes the search?"
"Bad. It’s going bad," Karlach looked up for only a moment to sneer at her teasingly, all teeth. "How goes the flirting?"
Riphi kicked at her blindly, missing by a mile. "You heard all of that, I take it. He’s just fucking with me. You know that as well as I do."
"And so what if he is, pretty paladin?" Her Astarion impression was impeccable, inner city accent and all, "We could die any day now, I think we deserve to have our fun while we’re still kicking. I say if he’s offering a dicking, take the dicking."
Riphi hissed, scandalized, "Karlach!"
The older woman laughed heartily. "Seriously, kiddo. Y’all can hump the hate out of each other, or something. Get a friends with benefits sort of arrangement going. Maybe a good fuck with a pretty young thing such as yourself will shut him up for once."

"Uh, thanks. Not like it was hiding."

"The beast is very much dead, my dear, I doubt there’s a need to inspect it." Astarion piped up stiffly as she bent down at the boar’s side, smoothing her hand along its flank. Not even the ants had gotten to it yet.

"Heavens forbid she check for maggots." Shadowheart snorted. The elf sneered at her.

Riphi drew her dagger out of her boot, flipping it around. "Let’s see if the meat’s as good as it seems." She cut carefully at its front foot, bracing for the warm rush of blood against her fingers, and – nothing.

"Um," She slashed along its flank. Still nothing but bloodless tissue and bone. She’d never seen such pristine gore. "This boar, uh, has nothing in it."

Lae’zel bent down next to her, pushing on the wound as if to coax the blood to the surface. No luck. She hissed. "Exsanguinated. This beast was not slaughtered for its meat."

She blinked back at the githyanki, wide-eyed. "What does that mean?"

The warrior tsked, staring down her flat nose at Riphi like she was addressing a child. "What else, istik? A vampire roams this land, and is desperate for sustenance."

"Oh, perfect." Gale sighed.

"Sublime." Karlach added.

Behind Riphi, Astarion shifted from one foot to the other, restless.

"A vampire," She marveled, tracing her fingers along the two harsh divots at the boar’s pulse point, just behind its ear. "They must be starving."

"Is that – do you have sympathy for it?" Astarion’s incredulity sounded angry.

Riphi felt the high points of her cheeks turn pink as she met his critical eye over her shoulder. His handsome face was screwed up cartoonishly, regarding her with something akin to horrified disgust. It made her shrink in on herself. "Well – yes, I guess I do. Boar blood. Seems nasty."

"Would you rather it be you?" There was laughter in Shadowheart’s voice.

"I wouldn’t go that far."

"Should we, like, up security?" Wyll pondered, hands on his hips.

"How the fuck do you up security in an open-air campsite, Wyll?" Karlach chuckled, teasingly derisive.

"Okay, tone–"

"I will not miss the sleep, so I will keep watch. No one will be made into a meal tonight, I assure you." Astarion cut in swiftly, jaw clenched. Riphi worried his molars would crack.

"Are you sure you don’t want to trance, at the very least? You look a bit," She gestured vaguely at her own face. "Peaky."

"Goodness, paladin, you sure know how to make a man feel good about himself," Astarion snapped. Riphi toed at the dirt under her shoe, sheepish. "I will be keeping watch tonight. End of discussion."

He stepped over the boar and continued down the path without a single backwards glance. "Now, I’d like to go turn someone’s innards into their outtards, if it’s all the same to you."

"Go for it." Riphi called back feebly, ears burning with shame and folded against her head. Nearly every conversation she tried to have with the eidz ydbr ended with one of them feeling humiliated.

"Bit tense between the two of you, isn’t it?" Karlach observed, quite uselessly.

Wyll chortled, elbowing her in the ribs. "Good eye, mate. How’d you figure?"

Shadowheart touched her shoulder briefly, feather-light. "It’s no skin off of your back, Riphi. He seems like quite the difficult man."

Gale hummed his agreement. "Yeah, Riff. Bit of a bitch, that one."

Wyll rolled his shoulders. "He’s also a bloody liar, but that’s neither here nor there."

Lae’zel seemed shocked that anyone in their group had been able to match her level of perception. "You sensed it as well?"

"What’s he lying about, do you think?" Riphi asked quietly.

Wyll stabbed a finger in the air. "Well, first of fucking all, he bears the name of an elven child. Astarion – high Elvish for "little star’. Little. Elves reach maturity and select an adult name for themselves when they turn one hundred. He claims to be over two hundred years old, and yet his name implies he’s still a child."

A strange surge of protectiveness welled up in Riphi, one she was certain Astarion wouldn’t reciprocate. "There’s a million innocent explanations for that. I’m no expert in elves, but doesn’t the naming ceremony involve parents? Perhaps his were – indisposed."

"Dead, you mean." Shadowheart corrected bluntly.

"That’s just tradition, easily broken if necessary," Wyll dismissed with a wave of his hand, "If that were the case, he would have, and should have, named himself."

"Maybe he just never got around to it?" Riphi suggested weakly.

Wyll blinked at her slowly, unimpressed. "It’s not really something elves get to skip over."

"Well, it’s none of our business regardless, is it?" She snapped, tail flicking with irritation.

"Don’t go to bat for him, now." Karlach muttered.

Wyll raised his hands in mock surrender, eyebrows at his hairline. "Easy, paladin. Just stating what I know."

Riphi inhaled harshly through her nose, then exhaled, shuddering. "What else?"

Gale shifted. "I’ve worked in the lower city for years, and I’ve never heard of a magistrate named Astarion, nor have I ever seen him. Baldur’s Gate is big, but it’s not that big."

"So he’s lying about his job. Your point? It’s not like the rest of us have been open books with each other, either."

"Not discussing my past with strangers is different than outright lying about it and telling stories easily disproved." Shadowheart pointed out.

"Maybe he’s just covering for a less savory profession. It’s brutal out on the streets," Karlach offered diplomatically. "I know plenty of people who do things who aren’t eager to advertise themselves off the clock."

"People who do things?" Lae’zel echoed, cavillous.

Karlach huffed. "You know what I mean."

Gale made a puzzled little noise. "But his clothes – he wears silk. Sex workers don’t wear silk."

"Maybe not the ones you know."

"It would make sense. He is very beautiful, for an istik."

"Please, can we not ask him if he’s a sex worker–" Riphi pleaded to no one in particular.

"This is veering into strange territory," Wyll interrupted, brows furrowed. "If Karlach’s right, then it really is absolutely none of our business, and we won’t breathe a word of our theory-crafting in his presence either way."

Murmurs of assent.

Gale cleared his throat. "Why are you so defensive of him anyway, Riff?"

Riphi squared her shoulders, standing as tall and proud as her slight frame would allow. "It is my oath. I protect those who cannot protect themselves. If the rest of you are against him, then I am obligated to stand at his side."

"You just saw him fight, did you not? Astarion is perfectly capable of protecting himself–"

She bared her teeth in a snarl. The wizard’s mouth snapped shut. "You speak his name while his back is turned. He is not here to defend his own name, so I will."

A sharp, cutting laugh. "Oh, pretty paladin, that is simply adorable."

Riphi whipped around and came practically nose-to-nose with the man of the hour, who was smirking like a cat with a canary under his paw. Her face exploded with heat. His grin only widened.

Wyll sighed. He sounded a thousand years old. "Don’t be an ass, elf. She just stuck her neck out for you."

"And I am ever so grateful for her sacrifice." Astarion drawled, practically a coo, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger and giving her head a gentle shake, like she was some beloved, ill-behaved pet. Riphi yanked herself out of his grasp with a shrill hiss, tail thrashing. He chuckled, low and mean.

"See if I ever do it again, zhebfaexev izhezhemadz."

"Yes, yes, whatever that means. Any-old-how," He gestured at the road ahead of them, flippant. "I walked as far ahead as I could get without needing to cover my own ass. Seems those filthy little creatures ransacked an entire town. They’re up on the rooftops and everything. The good news is that they seem particularly stupid, and easily swayed."

"Zevlor did say that the goblin camp was on the other side of a settlement," Wyll conceded with a nod. "Onward, then. We’ll try to convince them to let us walk freely, but if not–"

"Then they are without honor, and therefore mine to take." Riphi finished savagely, storming ahead of the group. She hoped the goblins were feeling stubborn. She needed a moving target to take her embarrassment out on.

"What did I do?" Astarion asked, all sugar sweetness and feigned innocence.

Karlach snorted. "Fucked up a perfectly good paladin is what you did."

The rooftop goblins died by her hand, and their group split up to cover more ground, scavenging for whatever the nearby camp had deemed useless. Riphi had never felt more like a vulture in her whole life.

She sifted through a pile of books with the toe of her boot, hoping that a title would catch her eye and provide her with some much needed entertainment. Not that the group she had found herself in wasn’t a riot, they most certainly were, but something for her to do once it got quiet at night would be greatly appreciated.

Riphi’s head snapped up suddenly, her ears piqued. Someone was approaching the house on rapid, nearly silent feet. She drew her mace with a snarl and made to meet them at the front door, only for Astarion to poke his shiny silver head around the corner. He grinned at her, devilish and exhilarated and genuine, wine red eyes sparkling with mirth. "At ease, darling, at ease! Come, I must show you something, it’s hilarious."

She stayed silent, eyeing him warily. He sighed, arms flopping back down to his sides. "No one else will come with me, so will you indulge me, just this once? I’ll make it worth your while."

"Good to know I’m your last choice for company." She grumbled, but acquiesced, falling into step behind him as he led her through the ransacked streets.

Astarion tossed a smirk at her over one shoulder. Her stomach shimmied in response. "Oh, perish the thought, pretty paladin. You were merely the furthest away from the scene of the crime."

He led her a short ways outside of the town’s walls and towards a dilapidated warehouse, its wide double doors shut tight. From beyond those doors came the most horrendously loud and vulgar sounds of pleasure Riphi had ever heard in her life.

She stopped short. "What the hell, Astarion–"

He shushed her frantically, finger to his still smiling lips. "There’s an ogre in there, dearest. Step quietly."

She paused. "Is the ogre–"

"No, the ogre is not on top."

Astarion snickered, wolfish. "Come here, come." He beckoned her closer to the nearest wall. Riphi held her chestplate off of her body so that it wouldn’t clank.

The wood had rotted away enough that they were both able to peer inside at the same time. Riphi slapped a hand over her own mouth to smother a cackle. "Is that a-a fucking bugbear?"

Astarion shushed her softly again, like she was a fussy babe, but his shoulders shook with his own laughter. "Topping an ogre, yes."

She grabbed his arm for stability as she giggled madly, soft velvet over cool, wiry muscle. He tensed under her fingers, but didn’t shake her off.

"Gods, should we knock?"

"Are you insane?" She whispered fiercely, still grinning.

He tilted his head down to whisper in her ear. "Or perhaps we should just throw the doors open, see what they do–"

She hauled him away, releasing him only when they’d made it back inside the town’s walls. They fell easily into step with one another. "I cannot believe an ogre is getting more action than I am. Ridiculous."

He purred, "I could remedy that easily, my dear–"

"Shut up." She shoved him so hard he stumbled several feet off of the dirt path, ears burning crimson.

"You’re no fun at all." He pouted, brushing nonexistent debris off of his shoulders.

"You’re insufferable." She sniffed, quickening her steps to pull in front of him.

"Come now, pretty paladin–"

She only walked faster. "Nope, no. You’ve been dicking around this whole time. Go find something of use or I’ll throw your bedroll off a cliff."

He scoffed, but pivoted and started walking back the way he came. "What a cruel mistress you are."

She shook her head sharply, cheeks flaming, a vain attempt to dislodge thoughts of him and his offer to relieve her of her virginity (not that he knew that he’d proposed he be the one to deflower her), sighing happily when she happened upon Karlach, who was sorting through a living room chest. Her fellow tiefling’s friendly face and wide smile would surely put to rest any lingering thoughts of porcelain skin and hooded red eyes.

"Mydda, zhexezhebyr," She greeted softly as she settled down in the dusty chair next to Karlach, staring up at the sky through the hole in the ceiling. "How goes the search?"

"Bad. It’s going bad," Karlach looked up for only a moment to sneer at her teasingly, all teeth. "How goes the flirting?"

Riphi kicked at her blindly, missing by a mile. "You heard all of that, I take it. He’s just fucking with me. You know that as well as I do."

"And so what if he is, pretty paladin?" Her Astarion impression was impeccable, inner city accent and all, "We could die any day now, I think we deserve to have our fun while we’re still kicking. I say if he’s offering a dicking, take the dicking."

Riphi hissed, scandalized, "Karlach!"

The older woman laughed heartily. "Seriously, kiddo. Y’all can hump the hate out of each other, or something. Get a friends with benefits sort of arrangement going. Maybe a good fuck with a pretty young thing such as yourself will shut him up for once."