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The god of trickery did not like to share his playthings.
Ob’nockshai, as he was known, was… “protective” in a way that was twisted. In order to keep those he gave power to coming back to him for more games, giving him entertainment, he sometimes had to make...sacrifices. Sacrifices that would occasionally turn those people he worked so hard to manipulate against him. More of the time, however, these were sacrifices that would make everything so much more fun. And, if he was being honest, they were less like sacrifices and more like elaborate jokes that only Ob’nockshai found funny.
He’d been a patron to his fair share of people over the years. A half-orc girl looking to protect her family from another clan. A male drow wanting to be more wisdomous in the regard of life. A teenage dwarf looking to become a war hero. Ob’nockshai lost count at some point of the amount of people, through the many years of his existence. The thing about the good majority of them, however, was that they did not aim to summon him. They just got stuck with him due to their own stupidity and misunderstanding of magic, and he used that to his advantage. He fronted as a god of time and assured them he could give them equal power as the goddess they actually intended to summon could, simply in a different way.
Ultimately, though, they all ended up the same way in the end. Dead, plain and simple. Either by Ob’nockshai’s hand, himself, or just by the call of fate. And, frankly, the deity did nothing to stop these things from happening (or even caused them), because ultimately none of these people interested him quite enough to offer them a chance for higher power. A place with him. However, one day a very stupid, stupid half-elf summons him.
It’s not the first half-elf to have summoned him; far from it. However, by far the least wise, and by far the most mentally strained, from what Ob’nockshai can tell just looking at him for the first time. Br’aad was weak (both in mind and body), malnourished, and so, so easy to take advantage of.
Out of all the people alive and who could have summoned him, Ob’nockshai did not expect someone with such an important role in the universe, and with ties to multiple others with nearly identical roles. As terribly dim as Br’aad was, there was, therefore, still something special about him. He had empathy, drive and, dare Ob’nockshai say, as he studied him more, an ounce or two of wit about him. And he was the perfect person the trickery god could’ve come in contact with.
Br’aad was, in human years, 19 (going on 20) when their pact was made. It had been a very short amount of time since then. However, Ob’nockshai felt a pull to Br’aad unlike any previous souls he’d played games with throughout his existence. Br’aad belonged to him now. He was a good source of entertainment; always successfully unnerved by Ob’nockshai’s proposals and charades; always easy to get a rise out of. He had fun messing with him. And luckily, a mere handful of days after their pact was formed, Br’aad had fled from his brother, Sylnan, and he was out of the picture without Ob’nockshai even needing to lift a finger. The half-elf’s only loved one, and therefore Ob’nockshai’s only potential obstacle, was already gone. The deity was free to do as he pleased with Br’aad without problems. And with the half-elf grief-stricken and far from home, it was the perfect time for Ob’nockshai to manipulate him and gain his trust.
All perfect, except…he got thrown a curveball.
The first week of Br’aad being away from home went quite well for Ob’nockshai. Not so much for the boy, though, as he clearly had never taken care of himself before and often found himself injured and hungrier than usual (useless without that brother of his and still not used to his magic, clearly). However, things couldn’t go smoothly, of course.
While hunkering down in the woods one night, Br’aad was attacked by a large bear and, while trying to fire off an Eldritch blast, made matters worse by accidentally sending himself flying backwards into a tree. He was nearly mauled, to the point where Ob’nockshai almost stepped in, but he made a narrow escape out of the forest and into a meadow. He came across a cabin with some livestock after stumbling around losing blood for a while, and Ob’nockshai (regrettably, he’ll say) saw an opportunity for a game. He urged Br’aad to kill and eat one of the 2 cows whoever lived in the cabin owned, and if he didn’t get caught and he managed to stomach it, the deity would reward him (he never was going to). He was hungry, after all. Br’aad vehemently protested this, but Ob’nockshai forced him forward, and Br’aad found himself climbing the fence of the mystery person’s land if for any reason to get the “time” god’s (as he knew him) incessant voice out of his mind. Ob’nockshai realized the error of his ways when the hobgoblin who inhabited the home emerged, however, and asked Br’aad, still bloody and bruised, if he was alright. And then he invited him inside. And then it wasn’t just Br’aad and Ob’nockshai in their own little world together. And it made the deity very, very angry.
“Bailey,” the hobgoblin, was hospitable in a way that Ob’nockshai despised. He had Br’aad wrapped around his finger nearly from the start, as someone being the slightest bit kind to him immediately gave the half-elf the validation he so craved. He was willing to listen to him and not many people were. Ob’nockshai was powerless to stop it, knowing trying to sabotage a blossoming relationship, especially with someone so unusually kind in Br’aad’s eyes, would leave the boy suspicious of him. So he simply brooded over the two of them from the safety of another plane. Br’aad didn’t leave the cabin; in fact, he and Bailey only got closer. Bailey, to Ob’nockshai, was dreadfully boring. A peacemaker, exiled from his home, looking to simply lead a quiet life -- he held no interesting future nor was not fated for any sort of greatness. Plus, he only took Br’aad farther away from the deity. Someone already owned. Their relationship blossomed into one of romance, which sickened Ob’nockshai. Mortals believing relationships to be of such importance soured his mood; whether it was friendship, familial, or romantic in nature. He only cared for the entertainment these relationships brought him when they inevitably crumbled or were torn apart one way or another. Thus proving the idea that mortals can hold onto nothing, and forming such bonds are pointless. It was everything in the middle, though, that drove Ob’nockshai mad.
Instead of looking to Ob’nockshai to guide him or play games with him, Br’aad was now occupied with dancing with the hobgoblin on the third day of each week, singing songs together and selling produce at the nearby town together and teaching one another in the areas of reading or magic .
Another thing Ob’nockshai did not like about Bailey: he was a wizard. It was good in some aspects -- he helped Br’aad gain some control of his magical abilities, thus aiding in him becoming more powerful without need for Ob’nockshai’s influence. On the other hand, as a bookish magic user, Bailey was far too curious and had access to far too much information for his own good. He was far too fascinated by the tattoos Br’aad had been branded with by his patron, found too much interest in just how the half-elf’s power worked, and harbored too much concern regarding Ob’nockshai’s identity. The deity hated how open Br’aad was with his boyfriend. About everything, but mostly about him. He told too much, and it began to get dangerous .
They kept on doing the obnoxious things mortal couples did for some time. And Ob’nockshai loathed it all the same. However, as Bailey learned more of Br’aad’s patron and began doing his research further into warlocks and deities and things of the like, there was now another wrench in the mix. Ob’nockshai had to pull some strings when the hobgoblin put it together that he was not a time god at all . Few had done that before. And those who did had to die. He couldn’t be obvious, though, otherwise he risked losing Br’aad’s trust altogether. He couldn’t simply let Bailey find a way to rid Br’aad of the deity, either, though; so this was a chance he had to take.
The next time they ventured into the town east of Bailey’s meadow cabin to sell that month’s product (milk, eggs, wheat and the like) was when Ob’nockshai saw his chance. The town was visited by a wealthy jeweler that day, accompanied by a noble. Br’aad had wandered off to look around at the other merchants’ stands while Bailey set up their own, and Ob’nockshai made time freeze.
“It’s been awhile,” he’d greeted him with, because it had been. About 3 months had passed since Ob’nockshai froze time and actually spoke to Br’aad face to face (he’d been in the boy’s head all the while, but missed standing before him and interacting properly, in all honesty). “Have you missed playing with me?”
“Oh, Ob,” Br’aad said simply back, looking around in a somewhat off-put manner, having gotten used to time not stopping around him once again. “Yeah, I guess it has been awhile! Um...I don’t really know.”
Ob’nockshai smiled wryly at him. “Well, would you fancy a game again? Nothing to do with chess or dice… or, ah, cows...this time around, though.”
Br’aad seemed nervous and excited simultaneously, by his demeanor. “Um…” He glanced over his own shoulder, likely looking back for Bailey. Then, he looked back at Ob’nockshai. “...Sure!” he said finally, voice strained.
Ob’nockshai told him to steal from the jeweler. If he did, it proved he could pull off a pretty big heist without his brother -- meaning he was capable, and no longer dead weight. The deity offered no reward to Br’aad other than pride in himself. Ultimately, this was more of a suggestion than a game. After some coaxing, though, the half-elf agreed. He went for it. And it backfired just as Ob’nockshai planned.
He ended up being chased by the town guards. He made a beeline out of there rather than try to reason or worm his way out of it, as the deity had hoped. Br’aad went straight back to Bailey and, in turn, had told him to run, abandon their stand, and get out of here. Bailey, caught off guard and shaken by his boyfriend’s panicked entrance, did run. They ended up cornered near the town hall and Br’aad (luckily to Ob’nockshai, regrettably to himself) pulled a dagger in his panic. So, a guard went for a stab with their longsword, but Bailey, being the hero he was, leapt to protect him. He was run through. The way the guard caught him, aiming for Br’aad, was unintentionally lethal, and Ob’nockshai instantly knew that. Feeling that was enough, he snapped his fingers from another plane and they were sheltered in an alleyway, no guards in sight.
Once he processed that they were safe, Br’aad had laid Bailey down on the ground and tried to tend to his boyfriend. He was useless helping people, though, and he knew that. The half-elf begged, internally, for Ob’nockshai to come to his aid, or to tell him what he could do, anything . The boy tried using every spell at his disposal, desperate to save his love, but it was no use. The magic Ob’nockshai bestowed upon Br’aad was destructive. It would never save anyone he loved.
Ob’nockshai ignored each time Br’aad yelled his name, now aloud into the loneliness of that alley; simply watched the two of them. There was satisfaction in seeing Bailey die there. It would build character in Br’aad, the deity thought in that moment. He had a good handful of tragedy forced upon him in life already -- an orphan with an “evil” father, lived in poverty with a brother he was now estranged from, faced prejudice for most of his early life, and so felt utterly helpless all his life -- but Ob’nockshai always felt more was in order. There was a satisfaction, for Ob’nockshai, in breaking people . Bailey bled out in the alleyway, heart punctured (literally), proclaiming his undying love for the half-elf, blah blah blah. The drama of it all. If Ob’nockshai could’ve gagged, he would have. He settled for rolling his eyes from the beyond. Br’aad just cried and asked the other not to leave him. His patron could’ve told you exactly what he was going to say from the start. He was predictable that way.
With Bailey gone, Ob’nockshai didn’t have to share Br’aad once again. And he could continue on the path of leading him to otherworldly power. So long as no one else got in their way.