Orpheus

(text-colour:#b495ee)[The Forgotten Prince. The Betrayer. Gith's only son. Orpheus. Alone, he stands before you. Taller than you remembered. So small within his chains. Vulnerable and subdued. Now power. It prickles your tongue, reaches the back of your mind and you wonder what he can see, that you do not. He's dressed different than before. Similar enough that you understand his sense of self. Colour, silks and skin exposed almost a decoration itself, like the silver he adorns. Intricate. A contrast and compliemnt to his tattoos. Shapes that feel like his power, that probably are if they were to assail your skin. You then remember he asked you a question: //Who are you?// (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Vlaakith's, traitor.]] (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Yours, my prince.]] (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[I stand under no name. Not even yours]] ]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[He's closer. Soundless steps, but the touch to your face like a roar, as at last you know //you know// that yes he's real. Flesh and tangible and you wonder if he'd think you were weak if you crumbled to your knees, the peel of his power over your body like the screams of your people who can at last speak- (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[-free]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[He's quiet for a long while, subject //you //beneath his heavy gaze. But soft eyes. Softer than any githyanki you know. With power behind that dances in danger. He wants you to know he understands compassion, kindness, even beneath that destruction that shapes him, that fear he spreads like threads of his psionics; feel it feel me fear me know me (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[love me.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[It was like he was waiting for an affirmation. A reason upon reason as if the blood and broken names you left behind weren't enough. Vlaakith will quash this pretender. This usurper who'd sucked the marrow from Gith's bones, and turned the trajectory of their people inside out. You wonder when he ordered you on your knees, for you heard nothing. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Felt everything.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[The bearing weight of his stolen power as it strings over your body. Through. "You'll be an example," he says, as you feel binds clamp your wrists, something sharp beneath that if you move, you'll bleed. "Vlaakith's dogs hung, forgotten, like your rightful Prince once was." Another around your mouth. Crude and sore and leather that binds, pain underneath and hot sweet hot as you already start to bleed. You can still talk. Barely. You will cut if you do, but so will your words. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[['I hear Voss was every Vlaakith's most faithful dog.']] (text-colour:#3bcc84)[['They whispered you had a kinder heart.']]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[It was quick to spread that Kith'rak Voss was his weakness - and strength. A word and warrior to tread careful over. But what else did you have to lose but pride. There's a ringing in your ears as you feel Orpheus' psionics shift. As if a song changing key; as if voice, tone. Then you move. Fast and hard and sore and (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[wood at your back.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[There's a moment of falter in Orpheus' face. He's heard the stories they tell of him. The paises they sing of his compassion, kindness, lost in the aeons since his imprisonment. But that is something earned, not given. "For those that deserve it," a pause as you feel yourself pulled hard off the ground with his psionics. "Not you." (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Wood at your back.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Hard and cold and this will be your home until you are no more, you know. Bleeding and left, a soul that no doubt your Queen will snatch back between her teeth. And maybe you were something in the end. You will be. A fragment of your glorious Lich Queen as she severs this betrayer's head from body, as she sucks his soul for her own, marrow from (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[bone.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)["She won't come for you," he says, as if the words are written on your skin as if you speak them, and silent he hears. "You are nothing to her, to me." A long moment as he takes you in. Another sacrifice, another display of power and penance. A ripple of fear for anyone who denounces the [[Rightful Heir.]] The last thing you see is the flash of his silver as he leaves. You wish it was a blade instead. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[END]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[What you don't know, don't see, is the prick of guilt that he tucks back down every time he condemns another. But what can he do, but a beast fight a beast, teeth and claw and remember to love me too, when your blood spills down my jaw, my fingers - for me, for you.]

(text-colour:#b495ee)["A dog that I had to hold back from tearing out your throat," he says, a little too proud. Hard and cold and this wood at your back will be your home until you are no more, you know. Bleeding and left, a soul that no doubt your Queen will snatch back between her teeth. And maybe you were something in the end. You will be. A fragment of your glorious Lich Queen as she severs this betrayer's head from body, as she sucks his soul for her own, marrow from (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[bone.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)["Voss speaks well of you." That hand continues over your face your skin, edges you hadn't dreamed he'd touch. "Voss rarely speaks well of others," he says, something you might think a playful smile, there. "I fear I've softened him." (text-colour:#3bcc84)[['You inspire us, my Prince']] (text-colour:#3bcc84)[['That would take a lot, my Prince.']]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Orpheus presses two fingers between your chest, near your hearts. Looks down as if he's counting your spots, so different from his. Light, like a distant constellation. A spray of ink, long faded. Not yours. Bold and cluttered. As if bathed in the Astral Sea itself, stars stolen, stars made on your skin. "No need for formality, tonight." (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Tonight.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Orpheus pinches your chin with finger, thumb. "I believe you wouldn't be adverse to trying." The smile against his touch an answer. "You were to be just mine, tonight." //Tonight.// It sticks in your ears. Your throat. Then your skin, with him. "Maybe that is unfair." (text-colour:#3bcc84)[['To who?']]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[It sticks in your ears. Your throat. Then to your skin- to skin. Prince to //vin'isk//. Whoever you are shed to the floor with his crown, pinging over cold stone. "What better way to learn my people." And you, (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[your Prince.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[There's pathways on his skin from bites, scratches, psionic burns and bliss. And you wonder how many of his people he's already mapped out, committed skin to skin to flesh and bone and blood between his teeth in bliss. Your name isn't even on his lips before the rest of you. But you whittle it against his ear, tongue wet against his jewellery, teeth stamping the lines of his tattoos. Orpheus looks up, presses a thumb to your lips, the only sound left a moan. Nameless it is. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[END]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[You test the question, feeding off your Prince's touch. Play and purpose and pawing its way over your body, before you're hauled to something softer, and there's another hand. Rougher. Older. No curisoity here, just raw. "Don't expect anything from this, vin'isk." Voss' voice is always rough. Millenia of a j//he'stil kith'rak// in the way he moves, to breathes. There's no sanding it down, anymore. What is there left to shape. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[You tilt your head back]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[//'Not even a good time?'// Orpheus laughs between his lust, hands all over you like he doesn't know what you are. Who you are of little consequence. Voss has you by the neck, unyielding. "The Prince will have to carry you out of here," is Voss' promise as he dips between your legs, and you yield. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[END]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[He wants you to know he has felt love as a githyanki, with others, before the re-shaping of your people since Vlaakith I. Even his physiology is different to what you know the closer you look. Gentleness to his edges. Spots smeared diffently as if a different hand had painted his, to yours. You know differences in your kin from creche to creche to city. But Orpheus bleeds a (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[before.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Before you before me before our bodies re-shaped and conception became solitary, before we raised our young in brutality and fear, before Vlaakith became all, before we forgot the taste of blood is also love. And forgot what love was (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[at all.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)['I don't know you,' you say. "Nor I, you," he says. An understanding. And movement as he removes his circlet, peeling off the praise of Prince before your eyes. "But I would like to." An offer. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[A bow of his head.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Then he sits. Cross legged. Comfortable. And looks up to you in invitation to join. "Know me," he says, "then stay beneath my name, or walk away." (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Choice.]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Little few have such beauty before them. The illusion skirts around them. They clutch to it, threads of its falsehoods tearing the tighter they hold. Maybe that's what hurts as you sit before him, mirroring his crossed legs. The threads biting into your skin as you clutch onto your illusion of choice. For you saw the Vlaakith loyalists, strung up, bled to death. Ceremonially forgotten. What is the price you will pay for turning your back to a Prince you don't even know? (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[END]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[''A short interactive novel about meeting The Forgotten Prince, Orpheus, for the first time as three separate githyanki.''] ^^This is a non-profit fanwork written with love for my favourite characters from Baldur's Gate 3 and my favourite race from Dungeons and Dragons. Prince Orpheus, Kith'rak Voss and the githyanki belong to Wizards of the Coast. And the three githyanki you play as are created by me, but can be whoever you so desire. ^^ ''CW: blood, death, sexual themes'' How will you (text-colour:#3bcc84)[[Answer to the Prince]]?]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. ''Written by: ''Des in Twine You can find me at: (text-colour:#b495ee)[''Twitter:''] (link:"@grabthemhorns")[(gotoURL:"https://twitter.com/grabthemhorns")] (text-colour:#b495ee)[''Tumblr:''] (link:"@des-no9")[(gotoURL:"https://www.tumblr.com/des-no9")] (text-colour:#b495ee)[''AO3''] (link:"Desdimonda")[(gotoURL:"https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda")] Prince Orpheus is from Baldur's Gate 3, and the three githyanki you play as are made up by me, but can be whoever you so desire. Thank you! (text-colour:#3bcc84)[(link: "Would you like to meet the Prince again?")[(goto: "Answer to the Prince")]]]

(text-colour:#b495ee)[''Written by: ''Shona Kelly in Twine Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. This is a non-profit fanwork written with love for my favourite characters from Baldur's Gate 3 and my favourite race from Dungeons and Dragons. Prince Orpheus, Kith'rak Voss and the githyanki belong to Wizards of the Coast. And the three githyanki you play as are created by me, but can be whoever you so desire. (text-colour:#3bcc84)[(link: "Would you like to meet the Prince again?")[(goto: "Answer to the Prince")]]]