“Wait what?” Cirice blinks, completely caught off-guard by the situation at hand. Morrigan smiled at her, cocky and overconfident and a rage started building within her. Before she can doing anything, however, they are throwing something down on the ground and creating a massive cloud of mesothelioma-inducing smoke.

She coughs, trying to clear the smoke from her face and vision but by the time she finds her way out of it Morrigan is long gone. “BASTARD!” she curses, making for the exit as fast as possible, running through the tunnels and completely forgetting about Cantio and his predicament.

As she she finally makes it to the mouth of the cave, she’s just in time to see the purple fucker cackling like a madman on the back of a red dragon. She curses, absolutely boiling with rage.

“MORRIGAN MOONWEAVER YOU GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS BACK HERE OR I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS I WILL TELL KVASIR!”

Morrigan Moonweaver was on top of the world.

Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that they were on top of a dragon overlooking the world, but the semantics were unimportant when one had just swiped a pretty and powerful magical gemstone all for themselves. They cackled gleefully, throwing their hands into the air with reckless abandon as Bubbles, having been transformed into a powerful, bright red winged drake, transported them away from the cave. They had no plan, no idea what they were going to do next. But they were free.

Behind them, the young elf cleric of the Moon Mother had just left the cave - Morrigan glanced behind them, unsurprised to see her face a deep shade of purple in embarrassed, indignant rage. She shook her fist in the air, spitting and hissing angry curses at them that were lost to the roaring wind. Morrigan smirked, hair whipping around them as they waved at her. Some of the messy, tangled strands got caught in their horns, one piece in particular getting stuck on between their nose and their upper lip. Morrigan grabbed the strand between two manicured nails, twirling the faux-mustache in glee.

“Sorry, Cirice Lunestre, but I can’t hear you over the sound of my incredible escape!” They called, spurning Bubbles into action once more. “Until we meet again, my dear lavender lady!”

They weren’t sure where they were going - muscle memory directed them back in the direction that they’d come from, perhaps even making their way to Skypeak Village. In their escape, the situation might have seemed hopeless for Cirice… if it were not for the abandoned wagon still left entirely functional, with Sparkle Blossom the horse still hooked up to the cart. An entire treasure trove of magical goods, elixirs, and arcane oddities, left behind for the sake of expediency in Morrigan’s retreat. But perhaps, it would serve a different function now - and provide the perfect pursuit vehicle for a scorned cleric.

If Cirice were to step inside, she would find any manner of colorful items at her disposal - baubles filled with explosives on the alchemy bench, a box of innocuous looking chocolates, and potions in any color of the rainbow. All of Morrigan’s own things, left behind, could potentially prove to be their downfall, if Cirice was willing to take it.

And, oh, revenge against that rat of a thieving tiefling would be sweet.

Gnashing her teeth together Cirice hops roughly into Morrigan’s Wagon, looking for anything that might help her catch the thief. When they’d gotten in earlier she had noticed a collection of potions that she had recognized from Kvasir’s shop. Time for her to use Morrigan’s goods against them. Getting to the potions, she starts shoving some she recognizes into her bottomless bag. She looks over all the stock and comes across one that will allow her to catch the flying fucker.

She downs it quickly, every last drop and with a snap and the sound of ripping a pair of wings bursts from her back¹. “You wanna fly, Morrigan Moonweaver? Then I’ll catch you.”

The back side of the wagon is smashed open as Cirice rips through the wood and spreads her large, black bat-like wings. The whites of her eyes turn black as pitch as shadow starts dripping from her form. With a snarl she leaps into the air and the wings carry her aloft, twice as fast as they should have been able to², allowing her to gain on the dragon. Her frightening visage taints the very air around her, filling it with a foreboding dread³.

"Morrigan!" She snarls as she begins to get closer, close enough for the dragon to feel the menacing weight of her presence.

---

1 Beist's Transmutation potion: wings and drake gland
2 Fiend lvl 2 ability: Abyssal Infusion (move twice as fast and do double physical damage for 2 posts)
3 Fiend lvl 2 ability: Invoke Fear (NPCs and creatures fear you and try to flee, cannot take offensive actions against you for the next post)

“We did it! We’re in the clear!” Morrigan leaned down and rubbed Bubbles’s hide. They weren’t really sure how much the kobold could understand in this form, but they were too excited to care. “You know what this means, right? We’re going to be part of the mage’s guild! After years of trying to make something of ourselves, we’re finally going to mean something!”

They raised a triumphant fist in the air, one that clutched the gem in their hands. “Soon, all of Charon will know the name Morrigan Moonweaver!” They paused, finally tacking on an afterthought. “… And their loyal apprentice Bubbles, of course.”

Speaking of the Mage’s Guild… was this even something that would get them entry into those hallowed halls? Morrigan brought the gem closer to their eyes in an attempt to examine it. It was clearly magical in nature, if the way it had reacted oddly to Morrigan was any indication. But what could it actually do?

Morrigan flicked the side of it with clawed fingers, producing a small TING from the movement. “So what can you actually do, huh? Can you cast spells or anything? Go on, cast a spell!”

From their not-so-gentle prodding… absolutely fuck all happened.

Morrigan grunted, wrinkling their nose in disdain. “Oh, come on you stupid, shiny rock. Can’t you do something?” They held it up in the air once more, near about ready to throw the stupid rock to the ground and be done with it, when the gemstone finally caught a stray beam of sunlight, and the air seemed to bend around them, forming a couple of odd shapes from pure, magical light.

A map?

“… Okay. Color me intrigued.” Morrigan had no idea what the hell this was supposed to lead to, but they would have time to figure it out. They were sailing easy, comfortable on the top of their dragon, and had all the time in the world-

All of a sudden the hairs on the back of their neck stood up.

Where had that sudden burst of fear from? Morrigan glanced around, confused, until they heart the enraged, distorted shout from behind. Morrigan whipped around so quickly that they almost cracked their neck from the motion, finally spotting the winged she-demon hot on their heels.

“CIRICE LUNESTRE?”

What the fuck?

She was supposed to be some sweet and innocent country bumpkin girl, right? Not some devil demoness who looked like she was about to rip their liver straight out of their stomach and feed it to them! Morrigan couldn’t bring themselves to even gaze upon her horrifying visage, too scared to even speak.

Shit. Shit! This was supposed to be an easy escape! They’d been lulled into a false sense of security by those innocent eyes and joyful words, but this time, Morrigan had pissed off the wrong person entirely. A beast lurked underneath Cirice Lunestre’s skin, and Morrigan had unleashed it.

Bubbles bucked underneath them, letting out a nervous whine that nearly threw Morrigan off of the saddle. Cirice’s chase had scared the great dragon.

“Bubbles, come on!” Morrigan rasped between clenched teeth, unable to bring themselves to relax while their heart was threatening to leap out of their chest. Don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you, don’t look behind you. “You’re supposed to be some great and powerful beast, right? She’s just some girl!” A girl with hell in her veins that was rapidly gaining on them, but still.

But the dragon did not respond. He only let out another nervous roar, squirming and flapping on unpracticed wings in a desperate attempt to get as far away from the menace as possible. He was no longer listening to Morrigan.

“Agh, screw it!”

They reached into their bag, hastily searching until they found a familiar potion - the bottle and its brightly colored contents were difficult to miss. Kvasir Sigurros, thank you for saving me once more. Morrigan downed the drink like a shot, rainbow light surrounding them almost like a protective barrier, a hug from the man even when he was not there.^[1] Morrigan gripped the reins tighter, hoping that this small measure of protection would be enough where Bubble’s speed would not.

---

1. Kvasir's Pride of Solaria (1/2)
Casting Armor of Faith

The dragon’s wings beat heavily as it tries to escape her clutches, but Cirice is powered by hate and anger and Mother Moon and her speed is much greater than the frightened newly-evolved Bubbles. She catches up with the fleeing duo with ease, raking shadowy claws against the dragon’s hide and swiping at Morrigan. Deep gashes open up on Bubble’s side, almost seeping darkness of their own.

“Give back what you stole, worm.” Her oddly layered voice orders through clenched fangs. “Or meet your end here!”

She takes a deep breath and covers the two of them in a gout of purple hellfire.² Then she moves to fly above them, getting a higher vantage on her prey should they continue to defy her. She draws a potion from her bag and a strange sword from her hip that with a flick of her wrist becomes a whip made of small blades. She’s readying for another attack and this one will be devastating.

---

1 Death Swipe (with double damage from abyssal infusion)
2 Drake Gland fire

Morrigan had miscalculated.

They assumed that, spurned on by her hatred, Cirice Lunestre - and whatever accursed being was fueling her - would go after the object of her hatred. But when she finally caught up with them, Morrigan did not meet their end at her unholy magic. But her claws did not rend their flesh into ribbons - and it was at that horrifying moment as Bubbles let out a shriek of pain that Morrigan realized who her true target was.

“Bubbles!” They yelped, tugging at the reins in attempt to right the wobbling dragon, but they were too late to divert their course before Cirice Lunestre rained hellfire down upon them. Morrigan’s shield saved them, popping with a burst of rainbow light. Bubbles was not so lucky. “Shit!”

They whirled around, shooting her the most hateful glower they could muster. Cirice Lunestre had seemed scary at first, but they’d fought Kasra before and come out on top. They might not have had true strength, nor magic in spades like the kind Cirice Lunestre’s dark goddess had granted her, but they were not without tricks up their sleeves, and the audacity to be as annoying as possible. In the absence of that true power, Morrigan had learned how to become crafty.

Cirice Lunestre wants to play dirty? I’ll dance.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘even the worm turns’ my lady?” Morrigan called out, jerking sharply on Bubble’s reins. The dragon would not last in the sky much longer. Morrigan could already feel him weakening, losing steam. They only had few scant seconds before Bubbles would start veering towards the ground.

Better make it count. The show’s on.

“It means even the most pathetic of creatures can have a reversal of fortune. You may try to kill me, but I think you’ll find that I’m a harder target than you’d hoped!” With one more final maneuver, they spun around, allowing Bubbles one final chance to attack.

With a final roar, Bubbles unleashed a wall of fire of his own, Ginma’s wrath pouring down upon the demoness.

“Hope you like your kebab crispy, my lady!”

As the fiery breath began to rush towards Cirice there’s a flash of movement from her wrist as a snake-shaped bracelet frees itself from her arm and throws itself into the heart of the blaze, absorbing the bulk of the damage. The edges of the inferno singe her hair and catch the edges of her skirt on fire and she snarls once more.

“Worms should know their place is the ground, they have no right to the sky!” She retorts as she tosses a vial from the wagon.

A small glass vial shatters against the dragon’s side and oozes across their scales¹, covering them in a sickly green poison. As the wingbeats of the creature slow further, Cirice folds her wings in close to her body and drops onto Morrigan from above, her blade curling around and biting into their amethyst flesh as all three of them begin to plummet towards the ground².

---

1 Numbing Poison
2 Guillotine drop from Gerhart's eternity ring using Crestfallen (which has magic blocker)

The fire didn’t do enough more than singe Cirice Lunestre - an entire dragon’s worth of flame, but all it served to do was make her more annoyed. She pulled a vial out of her pocket, one of Morrigan’s own poisons. They raised their hands to cover their face from the onslaught, but once more, they weren’t Cirice’s target. She’d hit Bubbles with a dose of concentrated numbing poison, based on his lack of reaction. What the hell was she planning?

Morrigan didn’t have to wonder for long, not when Cirice flew above them, blotting out the sun with her shadow, before dropping on Morrigan with enough force to knock the air out of their lungs and send all three of them careening to the ground.

The pain was so intense that Morrigan could barely move, let alone register that they were currently hurtling towards the ground with enough force to seriously hurt Bubbles from the impact. Cirice Lunestre’s bladed whip was wrapped around them, keeping them from reaching for their fan strapped to their waist - Morrigan could barely move their arms, unable to defend themselves, much less prevent their inevitable impact with the ground.

But they couldn’t do that to Bubbles.

Morrigan gasped, reaching for their bag as best they could with Cirice restricting their movements. At the very least, they could attempt to stop this from hurting a hell of a lot. Grimacing through the pain of the blade digging into their skin, they reached for the last bottle of Kvasir’s elixir - one last failsafe.

The world exploded into rainbow right before they hit the ground.[1]

---

1. Kvasir’s Pride of Solaria (2/2)
Casting Circle of Life

Right before the trio hits the ground Cirice lets go of her whip and opens her wings to stop herself from crashing to the ground. She floats down gracefully, landing five feet from the fallen dragon.

“Are you still alive Morrigan Moonweaver?” she asks, her voice shifting back to normal. “Didn’t you say ‘even the worm turns’? You’re not as hard a target as I expected. But I’ve hardly fought others. I don’t like to. Kvasir would be quite angry with me for killing you.”

She waits for the rainbow cloud of glitter to dissipate and as soon as she sees that Morrigan yet lives she smiles. “Oh good. I hoped your dragon would live too. He’s innocent in all this except for associating with you. Tell him to stand down and I’ll leave him alone. Give me back what you stole and I’ll let you go.”

The runes on her arms begin to glow malevolent purple, as she starts tracing somatic components in the air in front of her before Morrigan can scramble away¹.

---

1 Casting Scern's Godkiller

There was no pain that accompanied the sudden crash and the crater that Bubbles made, as both dragon and rider hit the ground with enough force to collapse the earth around them. Dust and rubble kicked up as Bubbles made a crater from the impact, Morrigan threw backwards, rainbow light fading to a dim glimmer. They rolled, coming to a stop on the ground with a grunt, Kvasir’s last blessing finally dimming.

… This feels worse than any hangover I’ve ever experienced.

Cirice Lunestre’s voice, sickly sweet and devoid of the dissonance that it had carried earlier, rang through the air. Morrigan stiffened, on guard but barely able to pull their body into a sitting position. Cirice was giggling, speaking of killing and upsetting Kvasir so casually, like she truly was not giving murder a second thought. How crazy was she? Morrigan managed to stand, though their arm was cradled at an awkward, bent angle. They coughed up a wad of reddish spit and rubble onto the ground.

They managed to reach into their bag, grabbing a healing potion. A minor one - it would only service to heal cosmetic cuts and bruises, but enough to give them a burst of energy.^[1] Pitiful in comparison to the retribution that Cirice promised in return for their thievery, but it would have to do. They’d worked with less before.

“I’m not dead yet, which I’d say makes you a pretty incompetent murderer.” They spat, any semblance of joviality gone from their tone. “Pretty sad, considering your natural gifts.” That last part was spoken with venom in their words, as potent as the poison Cirice Lunestre had used against Bubbles. “And considering that I don’t see your name on it, it could not rightfully be called yours. But you’ll have no problem finding another magical playtoy to suit your whims, won’t you, miss great and powerful cleric of the Moon Mother?”

The dust and glitter faded away, giving Morrigan a front row view to the empty smile on Cirice’s face - and in turn, she could see the envy and disgust painted on theirs, a bouquet of ugly emotions bubbling to the surface. It was stupid, really. They were going to die here, at the hands of this cheerful little psychopath, and all they could think about was how fucking lucky she’d been to be granted such power.

“Leave Bubbles out of this.” They reached for their bladed fan. Their arm was most likely broken, and the odds seemed stacked against them. But rather than run away like Cirice Lunestre might have expected when she began tracing out her dark spell in the, Morrigan snapped the fan open, something rather pitiful inside them finally snapping.^[2]

“You’ll take this stone over my dead body!” They screeched, spinning the fan in a wide, near arc in an attempt to slice a clean arc right through Cirice Lunestre’s chest -^[3]

But it was all for naught the moment that burning chains burst through the ground and wrapped around them, searing brands into Morrigan’s skin. They couldn’t move, couldn’t complete the arc of their last ditch attempt to gain a higher ground.

It was over.

Morrigan sagged, shoulders slumping downwards as it began to settle in that they were beat.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m way out of my league, and Cirice Lunestre is about to gut me like I’m Prometheus chained to a rock for stealing fire from the gods.

… They never really had a chance competing with the mages in the guild, did they?

Morrigan closed their eyes, exhaling slowly. Possibly their last breath, if this one final tactic didn’t work. They’d boasting about the turning of the worm, as if they’d had any chance turning the tide of this botched thievery in their direction, but there was one last move the worm had that they’d failed to mention to her.

The worm’s attempt at groveling.

In the last moments as Cirice Lunestre descended upon them, Morrigan affixed a smile on their face, bright and sparkling with mirth, hiding any ounce of fear they might have felt.

“Congratulations, Cirice Lunestre, you’ve passed!”

---

1. Potion of Minor Healing
2. Sworn Enemy (Mage Slayer I)
3. Blade Dance (attempted)

Cirice finished her somatic components just as Morrigan began to make their final, last ditch attack against her. But before the thief could make the desperate attempt, her spell was finished. The thick, burning chains of black sprouted from the ground like hungry vines and wrapped themselves around the tiefling’s flimsy form as if it were nothing¹. This spell was made to fight gods, what was one mortal to it? Before the tiefling could use any other tricks they may have she casts another final spell on them, stripping them of any of the skills they may have tried to use against her².

And then… They open their mouth.

With a smile that is only slightly edged in fear they offer her congratulations and she blinks, confused.

“What?” Her form reverts back to her normal visage, her clothes disheveled and burned, her hair a wind-torn mess and soot over her face. “I… Passed? What are you talking about?” She asks genuinely confused.

---

1 Godkiller
2 Gifts Ungiven

There was a moment where Cirice Lunestre was casting their spell while Morrigan’s chains were down that some small part of them… dampened for a moment. It was slight, something kind of odd in the pit of their chest that felt oddly full in a way they’d never felt before. An absence they hadn’t realized was even there until the moment it was filled, leaving them healthy and whole. Morrigan’s brows furrowed, staring at Cirice with wide eyes, uncomprehending. Had she meant to make them feel better?

“What… what did you do to me?” They asked, voice suddenly small. But no, they couldn’t think about this - whatever she’d accidentally done to them was small in comparison to the bloodlust in her eyes, the blade clutched in her hands. They needed to beg for their life in whatever way they could.

Thankfully, their ploy seemed to work.

The fire died down from her expression, replaced with a confused, doe-eyed look as she tilted her head. Morrigan wheezed, chest suddenly tight with anxiety. Gods, what had she done to them? But they’d gotten Cirice Lunestre’s attention - they couldn’t waste it.

Keeping the shake out of their voice, Morrigan nodded as enthusiastically as they could manage. “Yes, you’ve passed! You see, not just anyone is capable of joining the hallowed ranks of the mages. You, Cirice Lunestre, are talented, yes, there is no denying it. But I wanted to truly make sure that you were cut out for this. So…”

They waved their hand as best they could given their restraints, managing to throw a handful of glitter into the air.

“I devised a test to ensure that you have what it takes! What better way to observe your grit and magical talent than to pretend to be an antagonist and steal the very object of your quest?” They lied out of their ass, desperate to cobble together some sort of story that made sense. “And might I say, you’ve blown my expectations out of the water, my dear! You effectively pursued and neutralized the threat with powerful spells.” Far more powerful than she looked capable of. “And you utilized of your resources - the potions I left behind to see if you could make use of them!”

Burning chains rattled awkwardly as Morrigan raised their hands in a thumbs up, flashing Cirice Lunestre a smarmy grin. “And as the great Wizard of the Wastes, I’m proud to say that you have passed with flying colors! I officially declare that you, Cirice Lunestre, lady of the Moon Mother, are ready for the Mage’s Guild!”

Cirice leans in close to Morrigan’s face and looks at them closely, trying to judge the veracity of their words. But Kvasir loves this person, so they must be a good person like he is, right? Surely this is true, that they merely tested her to see her prowess and initiate her into the guild. Or they were trying to trick her out of killing them.



She takes the gem off them as the chains around them fade away. The tiefling starts to fall forward as the chains fade away and she catches them, filling them with soothing healing magic¹. It doesn’t matter if this was a lie or not, as long as she gets the gem back and joins the guild then she can let this go. Besides this means Kvasir won’t hate her for her actions if they part on good terms.



“Really?” She asks skeptically, “You were testing me? Why’d you have to be so mean about it? We could have had a duel of sorts instead silly. Let me go heal Bubbles... Are you alright?”

---

1 Major Healing

The chains melted away into shadow, along with that weird feeling of whatever Cirice Lunestre had done to them, taking all of Morrigan’s energy with it. They were chaotic in short bursts - their body simply couldn’t handle this much. They flopped forward, nearly hitting the ground before Cirice Lunestre caught them. Their first instinct was to shove her away, put as much distance between the two of them as possible, but they were honestly too tired to be afraid right now. Especially when she’d started healing them, giving them enough energy to stand on their own.

“Well, you wouldn’t have gone all out on me if you were too afraid to hurt me, would you?” They pointed out. “Though I may not look it, I am more than capable of taking a beating.” Some had even compared them to a cockroach in the past. “I do apologize for the crude words and deception, Cirice Lunestre, but it was necessary to observe how you would react.”

They reached into the bag, fingers wrapping tightly once around the gemstone - but they were stupid, not suicidal. They could not keep this artifact any sooner than they could join the mage’s guild. They drew the stone from their bag, surrendering it to Cirice Lunestre once more.

“My preliminary investigation revealed that this particular stone contains a map of sorts. I’ve no doubt that this will earn you the curiosity of those at the Arcane Academy, and grant you entrance to their ranks. You deserve it.”

They waved her concerns away. “I am fine. Nothing I cannot handle.” They gave her a crooked grin, revealing a freshly-chipped tooth. “Please, I would much appreciate it if you patched up my apprentice. He is unused to being a big adult dragon, you see.” They shooed her away to a crater, where Bubbles was still unconscious, slumbering softly.

With her back turned she didn’t notice the full-body shudder that ran up Morrigan’s spine, the fear that gripped them over what they’d just witnessed, before they shoved it down. Whatever Cirice Lunestre was, be it elven woman or demon, they would not make the same mistake of pissing her off again. Best to leave that sweet, jovial mask on for their own safety.

… Did Kvasir know of her true nature? Morrigan doubted it. Briefly, the charlatan debated telling him, but for his own sake, they decided against it. What they’d just witnessed would remain secret, not for Cirice’s sake, but to prevent the medic from being disappointed or hurt. He was already kept in the dark over Morrigan’s true nature, after all.

What was one more secret to the pile?

This incident would stay buried, for the both of them. But Morrigan would not forget. They didn’t think they would be able to forget the name Mother Moon for as long as they lived, now.

“It’s alright Morrigan…” Cirice trails off, “I don’t really like fighting people so I guess you had to do what you had to do for the sake of your test… Still I could have killed you, Kvasir would have been really mad if I had.” She frowns.

She takes the gem from them and looks at it closely, “A map…? That’s promising. Thank you.” She smiles at them and then grimaces when she sees the chipped tooth, “Oh my, sorry about that.”

She tucks the gem into her bottomless bag and goes over to check on Bubbles, petting him gently and filling him with healing warmth. The wounds on the dragon’s hide stitch themselves closed and the dragon’s breathing becomes more soft and less laboured. She pats the dragon’s head gently.

“Sorry Bubbles….” She comes back over to talk to Morrignan.

“Does Kvasir know that you’re doing testing for the Mage’s Guild? He didn’t mention it to me before. Not that I’ve seen him recently.”