#Arialista | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Photo

It started as a creeping sensation at the base of her neck, crawling its way down her spine. She knew this feeling well. The thrumming of her pulse, the thrill of a hunt. The dread of knowing her favoured enemy was nearby, quickly approaching.

Arialista turns to her friends interrupting them mid conversation.

“Undead are coming.”

Without waiting for a response she turns and starts to search for the delver team leaders. She spots Vimal right away, then sees Kishori, Rethé and Jalana with him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as she comes running up, noticing her grim face.

“Undead, swarms of them. Coming from all directions,” she says. Her pulse quickens and she knows there’s no more time. “Prepare your men.”

With a last look to Vimal, she goes over to the nearest tunnel to stand by it’s opening, preparing to ambush as many as she can.

–––––

In waves they came, pouring out of the tunnels into the church-like building they had set up camp in.

She heard Reina conjure a flaming sphere which obliterated the dregs of undead attacking her group while the Freelancers hacked and stabbed at those that were still charging. Meanwhile, Naivara’s quiet elven voice called out and a loud ringing noise responded, shattering skeletons and ghouls alike, the echoes of it’s effects reverberating off the stone walls.

She may not have spells like the others but she had something they did not – a knowledge of the foes and their weaknesses. She just hoped it would help against the mob racing towards her and the Academy Knights with a mindless abandon.

Arialista tightens the grip on her swords as she dives past a zombie trying to claw at her. An arrow strikes it’s shoulder making it spin away, she doesn’t spare it a glance. Her vision has sharpened, honing in on the ghostly undead she saw fly in.

Bringing her longsword across it’s incorporeal abdomen, she slices into it and it reels back. Before it can get away she lunges forward, driving her oathblade into it’s sternum. The blade burns with a white hot light and the spectre gives a loud shriek in agony. Arialista swings her sword up and its cry comes to an end as it bursts into nothing. As the light of her sword dies down her eyes seek out her next target.

That’s when she sees it, a tall, hooded shadow with skeletal wraith hands. One moment it is 20 feet away, the next its right in front of her. Its too quick for her to pull away. The instant its hand touches her arm she feels the necrotic burn of its flesh. Arialista grimaces but once again her vision sharpens, the outlines of its shadows growing defined as she marks this creature as her next target.

She swings up with her oathblade, slashing at the dark wraith’s arm that grips her. It lets go and the momentum of her swing spins her around. “A little assistance with this one!” she calls out as she brings her silvered longsword down on it’s shoulder. She expected it to not do as much damage, but it appears to be more corporeal than the one she fought before.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.

“Someone, please!”

⚔️

5 notes · View notes

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Photo

“This ring I bestow upon you, Arialista Wynmar, as a symbol. A symbol of where you have come from and where you are to go. Your life will be filled with many things: Strife. Turmoil. Love. Loss. Happiness. Failure. Victory. Know that by accepting this ring you accept all that we, your forefathers, have done. The path you choose to walk, you choose for us all. It is your duty to protect those who pledge themselves to you, to guide those who may be lost, to lead the people to a better future, and above all, to never forget we all have the same blood.” He stops and a warm smile, filled with all the love a father could ever hold for his little girl, spreads across his face as he slides the ring onto her pinky finger. “Wherever you go, I, Allard Wynmar, will always be with you. I promise you on this ring. So long as you have it, I will be here.” His hand reaches out and lightly touches her chest above her heart.

⚔️

@dm-anubis and the gang surprised me with Arialista’s signet ring as a parting gift. I’M GOING TO MISS THE RAVNS SO MUCH 😭❤️ I LOVE YOU GUYS

#Arialista #RAVN campaign #Dungeons and Dragons #tiefling #ranger #noble #dungeons & dragons #D&D #hero forge minis #hero forge #noble tiefling #tiefling ranger #vscocam #homebrew #creative writing

2 notes · View notes

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Photo

“Who walks the deep halls? This is a place of old memory. It is not safe for the living to be here. Speak your purpose and identify yourself.”

The ghostly figure half raises he sword to Naivara, Valera and Reina.

"My name is Naivara Lathalis and I am trying to retrace the steps of my uncle, Varis Lathalis," the high elf princess says stepping forward. ––– Arialista and Seran continue their perimeter check of the tower.

As she and Seran see the half-dragon making his way towards them she feels a spike in her undead senses, coming from the second floor where the others are.

"Did you feel-"

"Yes," Seran replies. She is looking at the tower. A worry line creases her brow.

"Should we go get them?" Arialista asks, starting to walk a bit quicker to wards Bharash.

Seran doesn't reply as she keeps pace with her. ––– Two more elf spectres in the same armour step forth from the walls. One of them is hunched forward.

Valera hears the same half crazed giggle echo behind his helm. The other one is taller than the first, stoic and silent, standing with his spear resting at attention.

"Hmm, you are a royal high elf. You face what remains of the Baelnorns of Elikatha. I am- well... I do not recall my elven name. Now, I am Cold Blade, defender of the King's crypt. So, you followed your uncle, Lord Varis, here. For what reason?"

"He had a purpose to come down here, but I was not told why, so I have to see for myself what he found here."

"Knowledge is dangerous. That is why we are here, to defend the secrets of Elikatha. But you are royal blood. Take your companions and go down below." ––– Arialista, Seran and Bharash see a window morph into a doorway, making the three draw up short as they meet up. Seran grabs Arialisa's shoulder.

"That cannot be good," she says, hands going to her swords. She looks at Seran & Bharash. "Should we go in?"

Bharash's only response is a small burst of flames as he exhales.

Arialista steady's herself and walks towards the magical door. ––– "You will have to prove yourself worthy of the knowledge you seek. Lord Varis destroyed many of the Baelnorns who have succumbed to insanity due to the lingering horrors of our people's downfall."

"Hahaha ooo yes," comes the ghostly echo from beside Valera.

"We are all undying, and cannot be destroyed unless we are released. Go below. Prove yourselves worthy of this knowledge. I will tell you what Varis asked and what we told him."

With that he and other two step back into the wall, fading into nothingness.

⚔️

2 notes · View notes

xyouseix · 7 years ago

Photo

The last time strangers came up to Arialista and her friends at a tavern, they were aggressive – calling her a demonspawn and looking for a fight. But this time...

Iona and Turel are looking for a woman named “Eva”, to help Iona retrieve her stolen boat from pirates. Will Eva deign to help the mysterious northerner and drow monk?

I was JUST thinking the other day how awesome it’d be to have a group art piece of Arialista and the girls when Laura drops this little bomb on us 😍 This scene is from our last session where she and Kyle guested!

Characters from left to right: Arialista – @path-or-walker Eva – @monkeycroft Turel – @sketchmcdraw Iona – @chartermagic Reina – @myscelestedreamer-blog

Artwork by the ever talented Laura Tolton, a.k.a @chartermagic!

⚔️

131 notes · View notes

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Photo

Arialista looks up from her strumming hands and sees a gentle smile on Vimal’s face. Her heart races but her fingers continue to dance along the harp’s strings.

“What is this song?” he asks.

“Something from my childhood,” she replies, the notes quieting down as she continues. “I used to play all the time when I was little.”

“I see.” He watches her hands. “I never learned any instruments, there wasn’t much cause for it at the Academy. But I always did like music.”

“Same. It’s been nice playing again.” She tilts her head back, the sunlight giving her face a warm glow as she looks up at him. “And I’m glad I could share this with you.”

“Well, thank you.” Vimal gives a soft chuckle. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any hidden musical talents to share with you.”

“It’s okay,” her head tilts forward and she smiles coyly up at him. “You have talents in other ways.”

Vimal goes very still. His eyes trace a line of heat across her skin as they slowly travel up her arms to her neck, to linger on her lips for the briefest of moments. Then he looks into her eyes and she sees their embers smolder with a new light.

“That’s true,” he says, uncrossing his arms as he stands up straight. “Perhaps I can show you then.” In one smooth motion, Vimal steps toward her, gently takes her chin in his hand lifting her face up to his, and kisses her, the last arpeggio carrying her breath away as her hands go still.

⚔️

Is it hot in here or is it just these two? 😉 A wonderful RP moment from Monday night's D&D session I just had to share today. Happy Valentine's Day! 😈❤️🔥

The song I imagined Arialista playing during this moment was Dame Ne Regardez Pa by Erutan.

#dnd #tiefling #ranger #noble #knight #roleplay #valentine #Arialista #Dungeons and Dragons #RAVN campaign #previously on dungeons and dragons #love is in the air #happy valentine's day #creative writing

1 note · View note

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Text

Arialista | Blooming Resolve

The sun’s tangerine rays have barely touched the sand dunes outside the western walls of the city, but the streets of Hallardim are already coming to life. The early morning runners and delivery boys dash from one door to the next with messages, packages, and wares. Preparations for another day’s worth of purchases and sales. Coins are counted, stock is put out on shelves and racks, and doors are beginning to open to allow business in.

In the noble district it is quieter, except in the kitchens of the large estate houses. Lamps are on and elbows are greased, already deep into their work.

A smaller building, a Grecian styled tavern, the only one of it’s kind in the city, is still quiet, the widows dark except for one on the second story. A candle, burned down low, flame barely holding onto the wick, sputters as the melted wax tries to swallow it’s light. The sun will outshine it soon enough, but for now, the candle is the only light against the darkness inside.

Loose and softly curled midnight hair splays across a writing desk in the shadowy room. Even breaths pass between softly parted lips. It was not her intention to fall asleep here, but the russet skinned woman resting her head next to an ink drying letter did not have the energy to move the five feet to her bed.

The shadows under the desk curl inward and a pair of softly glowing, slitted red eyes gaze up at the sleeping form. A sound, not unlike a cat’s inquisitive mrrhp comes from somewhere within those shadows. A dark paw with smokey tendrils reaches out, testing the air to see if it can leap up into the woman’s lap without waking her. The eyes pull back, then it leaps.

Without any trouble the small pitch black form alights on the unsuspecting lap. The creature takes a moment, standing still to listen. The woman’s breathing still has the even beat of uninterrupted sleep. It starts to curl around itself but something tickles its senses. A dark nose sniffs at the unprotected skin around the neck and under chin. There. A scent it hasn’t smelt in many weeks. It turns a curious glance at the papers the woman rests her head next to and scans the words. The writing is Elvish, which means it is not to the regular recipient to whom his companion writes to. Those letters she writes in Infernal, a language it knows best. Not to say it can’t read other languages, but it has its preferences.

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒍, it read at the top of the first page.

Ah, yes. The bard, it thinks with disdain. It’s bright red eyes quickly scan the letter’s contents, it’s barely detectable face getting more disgruntled with each sentence. When it finishes reading the letter all thoughts of sleeping on warm laps have been banished from its mind. It turns back to look at the exposed skin of the defenseless neck. A dark paw, ebony black claws slightly extended, reaches up to rest where the scent is strongest. Then it slowly drags it’s paw across the woman’s skin leaving the barest of claw marks.

In her dream, Arialista holds the the envelope with her letter written inside out to Tassel. She is nervous. Is this the right thing to do? she thinks. She’s wanted to tell him for a long time. So why do her fingers shake? The cold is a fear that pricks at her hear and she’s about to pull her hand back, but she’s too late. The moment his hand touch the parchment it bursts into flames and Tassel’s warm ocean eyes turn ice cold.

“Did you honestly think I could love someone who’s very existence causes the death of those around her?” he spits, disdain dripping from his words.

Arialista recoils, his words stabbing into the vulnerable part of her heart that knew his return was too good to be true.

“N-No, that’s not- Tassel, I can explain-” she tries to reach for his hand, but he pulls away. She tries to move towards him but her feet won’t move. She looks down and sees they are covered in roots and vines holding her in place.

“I never want to see you again,” he says as backs away from her.

Arialista’s reaching hands fall to her sides. Her eyes search the face of the man she has grown to care for deeply, searching for any sign that this is some cruel joke. She finds nothing. It was too good to be true. The echo of his retreating steps a counterpoint her heartbeat as she stands there, trapped in stunned silence.

A constricting pain makes her double over, clutching her hands to her bosom. She tries to reach inside her chest to hold herself together but she can’t get past her own flesh. She feels it, a gaping hole where her heart should be. Opening her eyes, Arialista sees it on the ground in front of her bound feet. Vines and roots creep up from the ground, wrapping around the still beating and tender flesh. A soft, warm glow emanates from her heart as the earthen fingers brush against it. In her mind, Arialista thinks she should feel pain or sorrow, but she does not. She cannot anymore. Now that her heart is no longer a part of her the dread she felt is replaced by a hollow peacefulness.

As the vines creep, they become spotted with her blood from where it touches the delicate pink flesh. Their winding and curling lifts it up, the glow washing over her face, mesmerizing.

Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.

The red spots on the vines shift, sprouting small buds that rapidly bloom into the most beautiful crimson roses Arialista has ever seen. She doesn’t understand why, but she finds herself smiling at the beauty before her.

Something sharp scrapes at her neck. Arialista starts to feel the vines twining their way up her body, wanting to cocoon her like they did her heart. She closes her eyes in acceptance, not entirely sure what she is giving herself over to, but knowing it is the only thing to do.

The scraping happens again, harder. She starts to realise it’s not the vines hurting her, it’s something else. What she thought were needles feel more like claws. Arialista struggles against the vines holding her, flying up into consciousness as she twitches and then bats away an inky black paw, claws extended to wreck havoc on her face next.

“ℌ𝔶𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭,” Arialista mumbles in Infernal, more of a command than a request. She blinks her bleary eyes a couple times and then rubs them as she sits up in her chair.

The shadow cat watches her with sardonic amusement. “𝔇𝔦𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪?” he mews, mocking her only a little.

Arialista finishes clearing the sleep from her eyes and gives Hyperion a hard stare. It stares back unblinking. She’s the first to look away. “ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔫’𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱, 𝔫𝔬,” she mumbles still speaking in Infernal.

Hyperion’s eyes narrow very slightly. There is a moment where it deliberates on saying something, possibly words of comfort or concern, but then it shakes itself and stands up.

“ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰,” it says, using it’s nose to indicate the letter. Arialista sees it glance at her writing, the disgust shown by the lift of its feline nose. “𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣 𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤?”

Arialista’s eyebrows knit together and she feels the echoes of her dream reverberate through her chest. “ℌ𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢, ℌ𝔶𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔢𝔰, ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪. 𝔇𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲?” her Infernal taking on a harsher tone with each word.

“ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔞 𝔟𝔦𝔱 𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰,” it says. “ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔡 𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 ℜ𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔞 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱. 𝔖𝔥𝔢’𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣 𝔢𝔩𝔣.”

The shadow cat had a point. Reina, though younger than her, is still wise beyond her years. She would accept the knowledge of her past and would probably be happy to help in her search for answers. So why even tell someone her darkest secrets, someone who isn’t even able to come with her to Pir’emva?

“𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔫’𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱. ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 ℜ𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔞. 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔞–”

“‘𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔡 𝔲𝔭 𝔞𝔫𝔡 – 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.’ 𝔓𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢.” It gives her a look. “𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣 𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔢𝔵𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔢. 𝔈𝔵𝔠𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰.”

Heat rises to her cheeks. For a creature that likes to tell half truths more often than not, it certainly has an uncanny way of calling me out. Hypocrite. Arialista wasn’t about let the not-cat on her lap call her out like that. But it also had a point. Half truths to Tassel were one thing. Lying to herself was another.

“ℑ’𝔪 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔗𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔩 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢’𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩, 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪.” Her breath is quick and shallow, matching the hummingbird flitting around inside her rib cage. “𝔅𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢... 𝔦𝔣 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔴, ℑ 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯.” She takes a steadying breath to calm the flighty bird inside and it’s wings ease up on it’s assault a bit. “ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 ℜ𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔞, 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔭𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔱, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔣 ℑ 𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰.”

Hyperion’s head tilts slightly, intrigued at her honesty.

“ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱– 𝔑𝔬, ℑ 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴.”

“𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔬 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞?” the not-cat asked, it’s eyes glowing a little brighter.

“𝔄𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬. 𝔗𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪𝔰 𝔦𝔣 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔬,” she replies vehemently.

Hyperion keeps its eyes on hers for a moment longer. Then it blinks and starts licking its paw.

Arialista, not entirely sure what had just happened, picks up one of the pages of her letter to see if the ink was finally dried. She had not given much thought, let alone a voice, to why she hesitated telling her dragonborn friend about her past. But some part of her did know why she hesitated. As for Hyperion, what ever it really is, wherever it came from, she suspected it knows more about Kamen-Het and the story she discovered at the Great Kaath Museum. They had talked about the ancient tiefling warrior king only once, but there was something about how tight lipped the shadowcat was that made Arialista suspicious. Yet she found herself relying on its council in regards to these matters.

“𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔰, ℌ𝔶𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪, ℑ 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯,” He pauses his grooming. She sets down her letter and strokes the not-cat down it’s back. “ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔢. ℑ𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱.”

“𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢?” it says, an impish curl around every word. Then it slips from her lap and disappears into the shadows under her desk.

⚔️

#Arialista #RAVN campaign #creative writing #Dungeons and Dragons #dungeons & dragons #tiefling #ranger #noble #noble tiefling #tiefling ranger #D&D #d&d 5e homebrew #homebrew #D&D 5e #text #writing #d&d character #cats #Hyperion

1 note · View note

xyouseix · 6 years ago

Photo

"You're not getting away!" Arialista growls as she gives chase to Lady Elinta.

She averts her eyes as she runs up to the medusa, Nah'kur already engaged in combat, his greatsword flashing red against her golden short blades. The warlock isn't able to land a hit though as he has his eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to risk being petrified. Glowing oathblade in her right hand, longsword in the other, Arialista also closes her eyes as she says prayer to Horus.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

She brings down her oathblade.

𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯.

Blocked. She strikes again.

𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯. 𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒔- 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒌.

"Are you trying to hit her or me?" says an alarmed voice beside her.

Arialista tightens her grip on her longsword and lunges.

"Ah-!"

A feral grin spreads across her lips. "Gotcha.”

Suddenly, pain bursts across her shoulder as she feels the medusa's blade cut past her guard. Nah'kur also cries out a moment later. She tries to bring her blades up in defence, but she’s too slow. Multiple sets of fangs pierce into her shoulders, neck, and head.

"AHHH!"

The serpents of Lady Elinta’s hair have Arialista in a vice grip. She tries to keep her face down, to pull away, but their strength is too much for her weakened state. They make her face the medusa.

"Look at me," the beautiful soprano voice is now hissing with rage.

A numbness spreads into Arialista’s veins. Poison. She feels herself bleeding out from her wounds, the arms of unconsciousness already pulling at her.

"𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚!"

Her swords clatter to the ground. The poison is burning its way through her. She is not strong enough, still a weak little fawn, unable to protect those she loves and powerless to kill those she hunts...

𝔑𝔬.

Arialista opens her eyes. There's a moment of triumph on the medusa's angular face when she sees this, but it quickly turns to confusion. Nah'kur, clutching at his wounds, risks a look. He sees Arialista's eyes are not how they usually are. They have become orbs of golden fire.

"𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫."

Golden hellfire erupts around Lady Elinta. She shrieks in pain, her serpentine hair releasing Arialista as she stumbles back. Nah’kur quickly shuts his eyes again. He does not see Arialista stay on her feet, teeth bared, fangs glinting in the light of her flames. Then she collapses down onto the ground, last bits of energy spent.

The medusa’s snakes continue to hiss and spit, trying to escape the flames that have engulfed their mistress. Lady Elinta flails, trying to put out the fire that is burning her, but to no avail. Nah’kur elbows her as he blindly starts to brandishes his greatsword causing her to stumble back towards the green summoning flames. Unable to catch herself she steps into them.

As Arialista's vision darkens, she sees Lady Elinta burn in the combined gold and green flames. Before she falls unconscious, hellish shadow hands reach up and wrap themselves around the medusa’s arms, torso, legs, neck, then violently tear her apart as they her down into the Nine Hells.

𝔜𝔢𝔰. 𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫... is her final thought as she falls into the darkness too.

⚔️

1 note · View note