Anacampserote | A Critical Role fic
Hi I'm back with more pre-canon living Sylas Briarwood fic. Don't worry, I'm very normal.
[content warnings: violence & mutilation, blood, vomit, terminal illness, assisted suicide]
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Clone (8th level necromancy) Casting Time: 1 hour Range: Touch Components: V S M Classes: Wizard
1. This spell grows an inert duplicate of a living creature as a safeguard against death.
“Why would I need the contingency?” Sylas says.
He sounds bemused but not entirely opposed. Which is good: he isn’t actually asking Delilah to convince him. He’s already convinced, already amenable. It helps, surely, that she waited until later in the evening – after dinner, after wine, after entirely too long spent tangled together on the sofa. She made her request in the dregs of the day, when they both let themselves – for a little while – be tender. So he is tender. And he’s willing to listen to her, when she says: will you let me grow you a second body?
“Because I want you to have it,” Delilah says. She shifts her weight where she’s tucked against him, so she can rest her head against the reassuring drum of his heart. “And you’re going to indulge me.”
