Amelia Eva Steinbeck 📚 Teacher 📚 Witch 📚 Available for pop culture consultation regarding the arts, literature, and other foreign mediums of expression.
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NAME: Amelia Eva Steinbeck BIRTHDAY: February 28th FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Mixed berries, whipped cream, and lemon curd
WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: For her AP Lit. class to pass their test w/ a 3 or higher.
[He nods at her estimations; he's become intimately familiar with more different types of armor in the last several months than he'd ever thought to, given that his own needs were so specific. Traveling with a group that occasionally needed their resident wizard to weave a bit of enchantment into their gear meant he'd seen a great deal of it as it passed through their camp.]
It indeed depends on the wearer's skills and specific needs— a front-line fighter is likely to wear heavy armor, but not always. A monk, for instance, would find that to be a hindrance, and tends to go without any armor at all. Someone like Astarion prefers something light, a bit of leather and nothing more, just enough to keep a dagger or stray arrow at bay. For me, anything heavier would be a hindrance when casting spells, inhibiting movement and causing distraction.
[All of this duly noted. She didn't bring her notebook with her this time but she'll commit it to memory if she can.]
It all makes enough sense. Everyday life in my world, depending on where you live, doesn't have as many inherent dangers so armor and the like is largely not needed.
[She stretches out her arm to look idly at her sleeve. Aside from her sturdier but stylish knee-high boots for their dungeon crawling, the rest of her clothing is largely what she wears every day.]
I've enchanted clothing before but not often. I find it's more important to reinforce my body's defenses with magic. I'd have to think differently if I was in a world like yours.
There's some of that to be done, as well— though largely along the lines of the shield you saw me provide earlier. There are any number of temporary augments that can be offered through magic to aid in one's defensive or offensive abilities, but I imagine that's something our differing schools have in common.
[He, too, is committing the information she offers to memory; he's as interested in what her magic has to offer and simply how it works in her world as she is in his, and these exchanges are always among some of his favorites. Talking magical theory and application with Amelia has become one of his favorite pastimes.]
That said, I'm glad you're not at risk quite so often where you're from. I know no world is entirely safe, and the fact that you can take care of yourself as well as you do tells me you've more experience than even many in my own world might boast, but I've certainly gained a new appreciation for what full-time adventurers go through these past months. It's not an easy life.
You might surprise yourself. Parts of it are quite entertaining— it's not all ghouls and gore.
[The countless riddles and puzzles he's encountered, seeing historic sites firsthand, learning the history of a place by venturing through its remains... though he doesn't much care for the circumstances, the scholar in him has quite enjoyed the hands-on opportunities he's been granted.]
That said, I am partial to my tower. Given the chance, should I ever find myself returning to Waterdeep, I think any adventuring will become a part-time endeavor at best. It's been terribly difficult, being away from my library so long.
[He aims to keep the conversation lighthearted, though there's something about his smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]
That said, you've been an excellent adventuring companion here. I've quite enjoyed today, fractured arm and all.
He doesn't know if he'll be alive to return at all.
Even Amelia could sense the morbidity behind his hope of being able to return to Waterdeep and his library. He doesn't know if he'll be able to one day rest from his adventure, look back on it with relief, and laugh with his companions about their trial by fire. It is more than possible that his life would end and regret would color his existence.
Happiness was not a guarantee to anyone, even to magic users of renown and skill such as themselves. When Gale had revealed his secret to her, she had accepted it without question, showing no fear towards the necrotic magic within. It hits her again, that empty, clawing feeling of anxiety toward possible loss.
I would be sad if he was gone.
She hadn't put it in words back then. If she gave the words life, it would bring up other horrible feelings, the failure of the person that she is, and—
She doesn't say anything for a long minute. It's a sobering silence.
And then without a word, Amelia reaches out to brush Gale's hair away from his face and behind his ear.]
He feels his heart skip a beat— or perhaps only half— as she reaches towards him and brushes his hair back from his face, her fingers gently ghosting against his cheek. She's done it before, but it's different this time, no longer with the air of a teacher straightening someone's collar but softer and more personal, somehow.
His smile falters, just for a moment, but not because he's unhappy. He feels his chest squeeze tight in a way that has nothing to do with the orb's discomfort, and a bit of lightheadedness that he's certain has nothing to do with the illithid stowaway in his head. She'd said nothing, but he can almost feel those unspoken words hanging in the air between them, even if he can't quite decipher what they might have been.
He only knows that their friendship has come to mean a great deal to both of them. That, he does not question.
Lowering his voice as though they're sharing a great secret, he smiles again and asks:]
[There's no sharpness behind it. Instead of pulling back immediately, her fingers linger and graze the side of his face before she returns it to her lap. Her face doesn't betray her tumultuous thoughts, but the way she clenches and gathers her skirt in her grip may indicate how much is going on.
And with sudden forcefulness, she declares out loud:]
... Gale. You will go home.
[The witch refuses to give life to her deep-seated fears. Her stubbornness drives her to instead give this wizard hope and certainty.]
You're going to get better and you're going to go back to Waterdeep and your library.
[Amelia swallows and keeps her eyes on the ground.]
[He is reminded strongly of the moment she'd tried to fight back against the orb, the moment she had sent her own magic into his chest to combat its efforts, forceful and undeterred.
I won't let it hurt anymore.
He notes, without letting his eyes linger, the way her knuckles pale as she grips at her skirt, and he feels his heart leap into his throat. Her passion, her certainty— he has done his best to remain optimistic about his situation, determined to explore every avenue available to him to find a solution and not allow himself to rest until he had done so, but that became a tiresome load to carry on one's own. Even he couldn't force a smile all the time, try as he might.
To hear someone else tell him how things ought to be, how she's certain they will be— it renews his desire to continue to fight, continue to search. He's not beaten yet.]
If anyone could bring something into being through sheer force of will, Amelia, I am certain it would be you.
[There's a fondly teasing note in his voice, but he meets her gaze, and his own expression shows somber gratitude.]
It would be my pleasure to show you Waterdeep. I think you'll particularly enjoy the Castle Ward. It would be terribly rude of me to deny you that opportunity, I think— and so I won't be giving up just yet.
[Her knuckles relax and she takes a deep breath before gathering her bearings and looking up at Gale. Amelia's features are smoothed over to become calm and neutral, just the way she prefers it.
This isn't the time to be thinking about past mistakes and how they have a stranglehold over her. When all is said and done, she genuinely meant what she said.]
Good. Without you as a host, I'd be stepping on all sorts of toes without care.
[He smiles warmly, crinkling at the eyes, able to look in the face of his own looming mortality for a little bit longer. Encouragement, it turns out, goes quite a long way— and he is, for better or for worse, terribly stubborn. It has proven to be both an incredible strength and his achilles' heel, at times, but in this case, he believes it to be the former.]
We certainly can't have that. Imagine all the trouble you could get into should you find your way to Blackstaff Tower.
[He can think of a few wizards there who would be a bit ruffled by her approach— and that it would be good for them.]
It's a promise, then. In turn, you'll have to show me around Blackgale.
[He seems truly pleased with that exchange, practically beaming at her. When she asks after his well-being, he raises the previously injured arm and gives it another flex, then tests his range of motion.]
Right as rain, thanks to your efforts. I believe I'm sufficiently rested— ready to press onward at a moment's notice! And yourself? Have you recovered from the energy your mending efforts expended?
I'm good to go. [Amelia stands up and dusts off her skirt.]
More than ready to break additional bones should we encounter anymore. If I may, would it be alright if I had a more offensive role? Your shield spells are effective and I'd feel safe if you were watching my back and you'd have less of a risk of getting injured again.
[He can't help it! Stop endearing yourself to him and perhaps he'll be able to dial it down!]
Of course— I apologize if I implied I thought things should be otherwise.
[He stands as well, straightening his sleeves by gently tugging on one cuff after the other. He'd taken an offensive stance out of habit, but he's very interested to see what else her magic might be able to accomplish.]
I would be more than happy to let you take the lead in that regard. I'll ensure you come to no harm.
[He's not quite teasing, but it's clear he's going to enjoy this. The barrier comes down, and he prepares to head out into the corridor.]
The Mage Armor I granted you earlier should still be in effect— you'll be more difficult for our enemies to hit— but I've other tricks up my sleeve to use as our circumstances dictate.
[And out they go, back into the winding stone paths. Past the corpse of the ogre they defeated, the hallways are quiet, back to the distant ambient sound of dripping water and even subtler noises of other living or non-living beings as it were.
Soon, they come upon a room with several treasure chests. Look, something to open up and take home! But Amelia is regarding all of the chests with suspicion.]
Seems... Convenient. If we weren't accosted by all the skeletons, I'd feel safe about opening these unscathed.
[He stays close to her as they venture forward, walking beside her and but half a step behind— enough to let her take the lead, but in truth, he doesn't have much interest in having a great amount of distance between them, especially when this place has already proven to be dangerous. Nothing they can't handle, he's sure, but even as they enter the room holding the chests, he narrows his gaze slightly, moving it across their lids and searching for anything out of the ordinary.]
That's precisely what makes it the ideal place for traps, I think.
[And he without his rogue companion to do any disarming. He stands there unmoving for a moment, studying the room (Percetion 6), then gives a shake of his head.]
None that I can see, or at least that I'm familiar with. I don't feel any arcane energy emanating from them, either.
[Amelia squints at the chests and tries to see if she can also make out anything suspicious. There is nothing. They're rather innocuous with their plain wooden exteriors and iron corner bumps. Like Gale, she also cannot make heads or tails of any other obvious energy signatures.]
They all look and feel normal at a glance.
[Hold on, there is a solution to this, perception be damned. Amelia turns around and goes back a few feet to where an unanimated skeleton is lying on the floor. She drags it by the shoulders and sets it in front of their feet.]
Instead of risking our fingers, let's use this.
[Amelia squats down to swiftly trace a few movements and animation runes across the skull. The empty eye sockets are filled with an eerie green light and it stands up, ready for action.]
[She really would do remarkably well for herself in Faerun, he thinks— even if she didn't end up choosing the adventuring life. He's come into contact with more skeletons than he can count, inanimate and otherwise, and she doesn't so much as bat an eye at handling one herself. Even where he comes from, many would show at least a few moments' hesitance.]
Very resourceful of you, Ms. Steinbeck!
[Said warmly, obvious praise. He raises a brow, smiling as the skeleton stands before them, prepared to be deployed.]
At least if anything goes awry, he won't feel the pain. At your leisure, then— I remain on guard, whatever may happen.
[Her cheeks turn warm at his praise but she only nods in slight acknowledgment. Amelia's resourcefulness only came about from the Witch King putting her in danger constantly. Impossible situations needed creative solutions lest she suffer for them. The Witch King would praise her for her creativity but it was all empty. She knew there would be more day after day...
But in the present moment, she's... Well, focused, but also secure with Gale around. This floor exploration was supposed to be a discovery venture, not a trial where she was being graded on some preposterous otherworldly curve.
The skeleton stalks towards the chests and kneels to attempt to open it. The first two don't yield and have no other reaction; they're safe. However, the largest chest in the room quivers as the skeleton's fingers pry it open. There's a click but the chest's cover suddenly clamps down on the skeleton like a large mouth. Amelia steps back and stares at it aghast.]
Okay, now what on earth—!?
[The chest in disguise begins to sprout, long, grey, gangly limbs and when it opens its "mouth" the skeleton clatters to the ground. This thing has teeth and it starts towards the magic casters in earnest and Amelia's booking it because oh god, they need more room and that thing is LONG.]
[Though it's not the first chest Gale has ever seen spring to life, it is immediately apparent that this is like no other mimic he's ever encountered— for one, it sprouts legs and starts moving towards them much faster than any he's ever had the displeasure to meet, and he's already on the move when Amelia directs him towards the hallway, the pair of them quickly putting as much space between themselves and that creature as possible.
They'll need room, and maybe a bit of time, as well.
As they burst into the hallway, Gale puts an arm around Amelia's shoulders on instinct to pull her close and shield her with his own body as he turns towards the door and throws a hand outwards, ice spiraling from his fingers to form crystals at the base of the door, swiftly building upon one another to build a wall meant to trap the mimic inside.]
Glacies nos defendant!
[He swiftly turns his attention to Amelia, wild-eyed and only a little short of breath from the shock and the surge of adrenaline now running through him. Already, the mimic can be heard throwing itself against the other side of the ice wall, and there's a distinct crack that sounds from it.]
It won't hold for long, but it should buy us a few seconds.
[Amelia didn't expect Gale's arm to wrap around her but she stopped to see the manifesting of the ice wall. There's no time to contemplate their closeness because really, there is a treasure chest with teeth and arms and it is kicking the ice wall down with a concerning amount of strength.
When he turns to her, she nods at what he says and points him to the other end of the hallway.]
Go! I can take him with the shields you have up and if you throw something from afar.
[CRACK! The mimic is making quick work of the ice wall and Amelia takes several steps backward with her eyes never leaving the monster.]
[He doesn't make her tell him again— not with that urgency in her voice, and as loathe as he is to put distance between them with a monster closing in, he knows better. He trusts her, just as he would expect her or any of his other companions to trust him, and he only gives a firm nod before he pulls away from her.
Rather than run, he Misty Steps away, vanishing from sight with a soft gust of wind and a sound pop before reappearing at the end of the hallway. Immediately, he puts his feet apart to plant himself, raising both hands in preparation to throw a spell at any moment— which one will depend on what she does, but he keeps his eyes trained on both Amelia and the space between her and the door, able to hear the ice splintering even from where he now stands.]
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no subject
It indeed depends on the wearer's skills and specific needs— a front-line fighter is likely to wear heavy armor, but not always. A monk, for instance, would find that to be a hindrance, and tends to go without any armor at all. Someone like Astarion prefers something light, a bit of leather and nothing more, just enough to keep a dagger or stray arrow at bay. For me, anything heavier would be a hindrance when casting spells, inhibiting movement and causing distraction.
no subject
It all makes enough sense. Everyday life in my world, depending on where you live, doesn't have as many inherent dangers so armor and the like is largely not needed.
[She stretches out her arm to look idly at her sleeve. Aside from her sturdier but stylish knee-high boots for their dungeon crawling, the rest of her clothing is largely what she wears every day.]
I've enchanted clothing before but not often. I find it's more important to reinforce my body's defenses with magic. I'd have to think differently if I was in a world like yours.
no subject
[He, too, is committing the information she offers to memory; he's as interested in what her magic has to offer and simply how it works in her world as she is in his, and these exchanges are always among some of his favorites. Talking magical theory and application with Amelia has become one of his favorite pastimes.]
That said, I'm glad you're not at risk quite so often where you're from. I know no world is entirely safe, and the fact that you can take care of yourself as well as you do tells me you've more experience than even many in my own world might boast, but I've certainly gained a new appreciation for what full-time adventurers go through these past months. It's not an easy life.
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I'd probably be able to adapt but I get irate by one or two monstrous vagrants as it is. Having to deal with that constantly?
[God, she feels she'd age another 10 years.]
Still, I'm not unappreciative of the current exercise we're in the middle of. Better a taste of it than not.
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[The countless riddles and puzzles he's encountered, seeing historic sites firsthand, learning the history of a place by venturing through its remains... though he doesn't much care for the circumstances, the scholar in him has quite enjoyed the hands-on opportunities he's been granted.]
That said, I am partial to my tower. Given the chance, should I ever find myself returning to Waterdeep, I think any adventuring will become a part-time endeavor at best. It's been terribly difficult, being away from my library so long.
[He aims to keep the conversation lighthearted, though there's something about his smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]
That said, you've been an excellent adventuring companion here. I've quite enjoyed today, fractured arm and all.
no subject
He doesn't know if he'll be alive to return at all.
Even Amelia could sense the morbidity behind his hope of being able to return to Waterdeep and his library. He doesn't know if he'll be able to one day rest from his adventure, look back on it with relief, and laugh with his companions about their trial by fire. It is more than possible that his life would end and regret would color his existence.
Happiness was not a guarantee to anyone, even to magic users of renown and skill such as themselves. When Gale had revealed his secret to her, she had accepted it without question, showing no fear towards the necrotic magic within. It hits her again, that empty, clawing feeling of anxiety toward possible loss.
I would be sad if he was gone.
She hadn't put it in words back then. If she gave the words life, it would bring up other horrible feelings, the failure of the person that she is, and—
She doesn't say anything for a long minute. It's a sobering silence.
And then without a word, Amelia reaches out to brush Gale's hair away from his face and behind his ear.]
no subject
He feels his heart skip a beat— or perhaps only half— as she reaches towards him and brushes his hair back from his face, her fingers gently ghosting against his cheek. She's done it before, but it's different this time, no longer with the air of a teacher straightening someone's collar but softer and more personal, somehow.
His smile falters, just for a moment, but not because he's unhappy. He feels his chest squeeze tight in a way that has nothing to do with the orb's discomfort, and a bit of lightheadedness that he's certain has nothing to do with the illithid stowaway in his head. She'd said nothing, but he can almost feel those unspoken words hanging in the air between them, even if he can't quite decipher what they might have been.
He only knows that their friendship has come to mean a great deal to both of them. That, he does not question.
Lowering his voice as though they're sharing a great secret, he smiles again and asks:]
What was that for?
no subject
It was messy.
[There's no sharpness behind it. Instead of pulling back immediately, her fingers linger and graze the side of his face before she returns it to her lap. Her face doesn't betray her tumultuous thoughts, but the way she clenches and gathers her skirt in her grip may indicate how much is going on.
And with sudden forcefulness, she declares out loud:]
... Gale. You will go home.
[The witch refuses to give life to her deep-seated fears. Her stubbornness drives her to instead give this wizard hope and certainty.]
You're going to get better and you're going to go back to Waterdeep and your library.
[Amelia swallows and keeps her eyes on the ground.]
You need to be there to show me around someday.
no subject
I won't let it hurt anymore.
He notes, without letting his eyes linger, the way her knuckles pale as she grips at her skirt, and he feels his heart leap into his throat. Her passion, her certainty— he has done his best to remain optimistic about his situation, determined to explore every avenue available to him to find a solution and not allow himself to rest until he had done so, but that became a tiresome load to carry on one's own. Even he couldn't force a smile all the time, try as he might.
To hear someone else tell him how things ought to be, how she's certain they will be— it renews his desire to continue to fight, continue to search. He's not beaten yet.]
If anyone could bring something into being through sheer force of will, Amelia, I am certain it would be you.
[There's a fondly teasing note in his voice, but he meets her gaze, and his own expression shows somber gratitude.]
It would be my pleasure to show you Waterdeep. I think you'll particularly enjoy the Castle Ward. It would be terribly rude of me to deny you that opportunity, I think— and so I won't be giving up just yet.
no subject
This isn't the time to be thinking about past mistakes and how they have a stranglehold over her. When all is said and done, she genuinely meant what she said.]
Good. Without you as a host, I'd be stepping on all sorts of toes without care.
no subject
We certainly can't have that. Imagine all the trouble you could get into should you find your way to Blackstaff Tower.
[He can think of a few wizards there who would be a bit ruffled by her approach— and that it would be good for them.]
It's a promise, then. In turn, you'll have to show me around Blackgale.
no subject
Sure. It's a promise.
[And it's a promise Amelia is taking very seriously to heart. Maybe this time, this will be one that she's able to keep.]
How are you feeling now? If you need to rest more, please do so before we set out again.
no subject
[He seems truly pleased with that exchange, practically beaming at her. When she asks after his well-being, he raises the previously injured arm and gives it another flex, then tests his range of motion.]
Right as rain, thanks to your efforts. I believe I'm sufficiently rested— ready to press onward at a moment's notice! And yourself? Have you recovered from the energy your mending efforts expended?
no subject
I'm good to go. [Amelia stands up and dusts off her skirt.]
More than ready to break additional bones should we encounter anymore. If I may, would it be alright if I had a more offensive role? Your shield spells are effective and I'd feel safe if you were watching my back and you'd have less of a risk of getting injured again.
no subject
Of course— I apologize if I implied I thought things should be otherwise.
[He stands as well, straightening his sleeves by gently tugging on one cuff after the other. He'd taken an offensive stance out of habit, but he's very interested to see what else her magic might be able to accomplish.]
I would be more than happy to let you take the lead in that regard. I'll ensure you come to no harm.
no subject
looks at the thread below this, she has failedAmelia removes her rune barrier, wiping it away with her palm like one would wipe down a window.]
Good. I'm a lot more forceful when at the forefront so that could send a message to the rest of the dungeon.
no subject
[He's not quite teasing, but it's clear he's going to enjoy this. The barrier comes down, and he prepares to head out into the corridor.]
The Mage Armor I granted you earlier should still be in effect— you'll be more difficult for our enemies to hit— but I've other tricks up my sleeve to use as our circumstances dictate.
no subject
[And out they go, back into the winding stone paths. Past the corpse of the ogre they defeated, the hallways are quiet, back to the distant ambient sound of dripping water and even subtler noises of other living or non-living beings as it were.
Soon, they come upon a room with several treasure chests. Look, something to open up and take home! But Amelia is regarding all of the chests with suspicion.]
Seems... Convenient. If we weren't accosted by all the skeletons, I'd feel safe about opening these unscathed.
no subject
That's precisely what makes it the ideal place for traps, I think.
[And he without his rogue companion to do any disarming. He stands there unmoving for a moment, studying the room (Percetion 6), then gives a shake of his head.]
None that I can see, or at least that I'm familiar with. I don't feel any arcane energy emanating from them, either.
no subject
They all look and feel normal at a glance.
[Hold on, there is a solution to this, perception be damned. Amelia turns around and goes back a few feet to where an unanimated skeleton is lying on the floor. She drags it by the shoulders and sets it in front of their feet.]
Instead of risking our fingers, let's use this.
[Amelia squats down to swiftly trace a few movements and animation runes across the skull. The empty eye sockets are filled with an eerie green light and it stands up, ready for action.]
no subject
Very resourceful of you, Ms. Steinbeck!
[Said warmly, obvious praise. He raises a brow, smiling as the skeleton stands before them, prepared to be deployed.]
At least if anything goes awry, he won't feel the pain. At your leisure, then— I remain on guard, whatever may happen.
no subject
But in the present moment, she's... Well, focused, but also secure with Gale around. This floor exploration was supposed to be a discovery venture, not a trial where she was being graded on some preposterous otherworldly curve.
The skeleton stalks towards the chests and kneels to attempt to open it. The first two don't yield and have no other reaction; they're safe. However, the largest chest in the room quivers as the skeleton's fingers pry it open. There's a click but the chest's cover suddenly clamps down on the skeleton like a large mouth. Amelia steps back and stares at it aghast.]
Okay, now what on earth—!?
[The chest in disguise begins to sprout, long, grey, gangly limbs and when it opens its "mouth" the skeleton clatters to the ground. This thing has teeth and it starts towards the magic casters in earnest and Amelia's booking it because oh god, they need more room and that thing is LONG.]
Hallway! Now!!
no subject
They'll need room, and maybe a bit of time, as well.
As they burst into the hallway, Gale puts an arm around Amelia's shoulders on instinct to pull her close and shield her with his own body as he turns towards the door and throws a hand outwards, ice spiraling from his fingers to form crystals at the base of the door, swiftly building upon one another to build a wall meant to trap the mimic inside.]
Glacies nos defendant!
[He swiftly turns his attention to Amelia, wild-eyed and only a little short of breath from the shock and the surge of adrenaline now running through him. Already, the mimic can be heard throwing itself against the other side of the ice wall, and there's a distinct crack that sounds from it.]
It won't hold for long, but it should buy us a few seconds.
no subject
When he turns to her, she nods at what he says and points him to the other end of the hallway.]
Go! I can take him with the shields you have up and if you throw something from afar.
[CRACK! The mimic is making quick work of the ice wall and Amelia takes several steps backward with her eyes never leaving the monster.]
Go, NOW!
no subject
Rather than run, he Misty Steps away, vanishing from sight with a soft gust of wind and a sound pop before reappearing at the end of the hallway. Immediately, he puts his feet apart to plant himself, raising both hands in preparation to throw a spell at any moment— which one will depend on what she does, but he keeps his eyes trained on both Amelia and the space between her and the door, able to hear the ice splintering even from where he now stands.]
I'll cover you!
[Whatever she chooses, he'll follow her lead.]
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