#Z'ress

[susann-noir]

Children of Eilistraee

collab with / Coranzan belongs to @mogruith

[lichfucker]

ingot's last combat turn of the entire campaign he made four attacks, hit all of them, and did 125 damage. the first one would have been a crit but the bbeg used chronal shift to make me reroll. but the LAST last turn of the entire campaign was z'ress making three attacks, the last of which was a crit that couldn't be cancelled. the last d20 roll of reforged world was a natural 20. I rolled 4d8+20d6+21 for 98 damage. that was the last roll of the campaign. twenty d6es in my palms.

I'll have something more emotional to say later. I have a lot to say about it.

I just want to marvel at the numbers for a moment.

[keplercryptids]

mm i'm just gonna share the lil thief prayer an npc friend of the party made last session because i like it and i like z'ress and this game is ending soon and i'm unwell about it. (i considered sharing the other prayers z'ress made for dead people but they weirdly feel too personal to share on tumblr.com???? lol????? im normal i swear)

Thiefwatcher, Well-wisher, the Nameless and the Unnamed. I make this offering in deepest gratitude and praise. Praise for my friends, those near to me and those far away; my friends who have never, ever failed me. Praise for my love, my arrow, for his devotion and care. Praise for our safety through oceans and earth and hellfire and whatever the fuck is gonna come next. Praise for my life -- my small, troubled, weird, beautiful little life -- as it is, as it will be. Praise for all that I have and all that I've lost, all I have loved and will continue to love. Praise for the cracked windows and unlocked doors, the full pockets and the locks that give; the dark alleys, the gutters, the shadowy corners and the empty sewers. Praise for the outcasts and the unlucky, the freaks and the weirdos, the cheats and the liars, the thieves among thieves, the underdogs. Praise for the comeuppance. Praise for Hope's Crown and all its people. Praise for you, Watcher of Thieves. Cast some really dope shadows soon for us, if you can. We're gonna need all the help we can get.

[quasieli]

ingot in #44 r u mine?

[ID copied from alt text: A digital half body drawing of Z’ress (he/they) and Ingot (he/they), a NPC and a PC from the Reforged D&D campaign, set against a leafy green background with thick diagonal stripes of peach cutting through it. Both are drawn in a limited palette, with Z'ress's consisiting of light purple-gray, grass green, lime green, dark yellow-green, and warm dark brown, and being a complementary palette to Ingot’s, which is made of muted yellow, peach, dark brown-pink, dark pink-purple, and dark navy blue. Z'ress, a drow, is cuddled into Ingot, a tiefling, the pair pressed cheek to cheek, both smiling softly with their eyes closed. End description.]

Are you mine? Forever and always 💙💙

[g4ll0wd4nc3r]

my bg3 girls are so beautiful i love them

[lunastrophe]

Drow Language 🕷️ Glossary from Drow of the Underdark (2e)

Drow glossary from Drow of the Underdark (E. Greenwood, 1991), a supplemental rules book for use with AD&D (2e). Around two hundred canon words that allow to create simple sentences, messages and the like.

I organized the terms from the glossary into categories, so that the range of topics and the variety of vocabulary for each of them could be seen more clearly. Unsurprisingly, categories with the most words are connected to dealing with people, stealth and fight, travel and exploration, also magic and spirituality.

🕷️ To Be

tlu – be, to be phuul – are zhah – is

🕷️ Pronouns

usstan – I, self (literally, "this one") usstil – one in my place dos – you dosst – yours dosstan – yourself nind – they, them, their, theirs* nindyn – those vel’uss – who

*In fan-created drow language sources, "them", "their" and "theirs" are usually translated differently to avoid confusion.

🕷️ People, Professions, Titles

dobluth – outcast faern – wizard, magic-worker of any race or gender ilharn – patron, title of matron mother’s chosen mate ilhar – mother, to mother* ilharess – matron or matron mother, title of a female ruling a noble drow House ilharessen – matrons jabbuk – master, male in charge of some task or office malla – honored, term of respect qu’ellar – House, titled noble family sargtlin – (drow) warrior valsharess – queen** yathrin – (drow) priestess yathtallar – (drow) high priestess

*Only in a biological sense - "to mother" as in "to give birth to", not "to nourish and comfort". ** Title typically reserved for Lolth.

🕷️ Friends, Enemies, Relationships

abban – ally, not-enemy abbil – comrade, trusted friend* akh – band, group inthigg – agreement, treaty khaless – trust** maglust – apart, alone nau – no ogglin – rival, opponent, enemy*** qua’laelay – argument, disagreement, confrontation, but not yet open conflict quarth – order, exercise of authority quarthen – ordered, commanded ssinssrigg – passion, lust, greed, longing, love**** thalra – meet, encounter talthalra – meeting, council, parley thalack – war, open fighting xal – may, might, perhaps

* At least as trusted as possible in drow terms (see khaless). ** Especially foolish or misplaced kind of trust, since drow do not really believe in genuine trust. *** "Active"; all creatures are considered potential ogglin until proven otherwise. **** Not a selfless, unconditional, romantic kind of love.

🕷️ Non-Drow, Monsters

darthiir – faeries, surface elves, traitors gol – goblin goln – goblins haszak – illithid, mind flayer haszakkin – illithids rivvil – human rivvin – humans orbb – spider phindar – monster, dangerous being, especially a non-intelligent creature

🕷️ Insults

iblith – offal, excrement, carrion* wael – fool

* Often used in reference to non-drow and slaves.

🕷️ Battle, Life, Death

bautha – dodge, to dodge dro – life, alive elgg – kill, slay, destroy elghinn – death honglath – clever thinking, calm, bravery, good behavior jivvin – fun, play, but in sense of amusing cruelty, "animal spirits" kulg – snag, hitch, blockage* kulggen – deliberate rampart, shield, or other barrier luth – cast, throw, hurl phalar – grave, battle-marker plynn – take, size sargh – confidence in weapons, battle-might, strength-at-arms, valor sarn! – beware!, warning! sreen – danger streea – suicide, death in the service of Lolth, a House, or a community streeaka – reckless(ness), fearless(ness) thalackz’hind – raid, attack from afar ultrinnan – conquering, victory, to win or prevail velve – blade, dagger, knife, sword z'ress – power, strength, force, dominance**

* Impediment to will or to plans, but also an actual, material blockage, like debris in a shaft or passage. ** Especially strength of the will that allows a person, for example, to successfully manipulate others.

🕷️ Schemes, Stealth, Shadows

brorn – surprise brorna – surprises golhyrr – surprise, ruse, trap ilindith – aim, goal, hoped-for event inth – plan, stratagem, scheme kyone – alert / alertly, wary / warily, careful / carefully kyorl – watch, wait, guard kyorlin – watching, waiting, guarding olist – caution, stealth oloth – darkness, utter natural darkness or magical darkness ssussun – light, brightness veldrin – shadows, concealment afforded by varying light velkyn – unseen, hidden, invisible waela – foolish, unaware, unwary

🕷️ Magic, Faith, Destiny

elamshin – destiny, the will of Lolth* elend – usual, traditional faer – magic faerl – magical faerbol – magical item orthae – holy, sacred Quarvalsharess – Goddess (title of Lolth) quar’valsharess – goddess (other than Lolth) ul-ilindith – destiny yath – temple, also property, work or decree of the temple Yorn – power, will or servant-creature of the Goddess (Lolth)

* Destiny as unique purpose, connected to the intent of higher power (Lolth).

🕷️ Work, Learning, Exploration

colbauth – path, known way mrimm – guide, key, inspiration noamuth – wanderer, lost, unknown obsul – opening, door, gap or chink ragar – find, discover, uncover talinth – think, consider xun – do, to complete or accomplish xund – striving, effort, work xundus – doing, achievement, work completed or manifested in some concrete result zhaunil – learning, wisdom, knowledge z'hin – walk z'hind – trip, journey, expedition z'orr – climb

🕷️ Wealth, Goods, Gifts

belaern – wealth, coinage, treasure belbau – to give belbol – gift bol – item, thing, an unknown, unidentified, mysterious or important object cahallin – food, but only produced or harvested, including raid-spoils; not hunted game or cooked food

🕷️ Numbers, Quantity

uss – one ust – first draa – two drada – second llar – three llarnbuss – third tuth – both mzild – more jal – all

🕷️ Comparisons

alur – better, superior alurl – best, foremost taga – than ultrin – supreme, highest, conqueror ultrine – supreme, highest (applied to Lolth only)

🕷️ Relations In Space And Time

alust – in front, facing, in the forefront bauth – around, about dal – from del – of doeb – out elendar – continue, continued, continuing, enduring harl – down, under, below izil – as lil – the lueth – and natha – a pholor – on, upon rath – back ratha – backs rathrae – behind ulu – to wun – in wund – among, within, into

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[ishtadawnstar]

Hunter or Prey...

A thick, suffocating scent filled the air - a mixture of burning incense, blood, and dark energy. Ishta's eyes scanned the small chamber they had entered, taking in every detail with precision. At the center stood a large desk cluttered with maps and scrolls, guarded by a Drow woman who towered over a cowering Goblin. The disdain etched on her face was clear as she scolded the trembling creature before it quickly scurried away at her command.

As Minthara's gaze fell upon Ishta and her companions, an oppressive silence descended upon the room. Ishta could feel the weight her stare as it locked onto them, studying them with a calculating gaze.

Ishta's eyes took in every detail of the figure standing before her. The Drow woman was a striking vision of dark elegance and lethal grace. Her skin, a pale shade of ashen grey, seemed almost luminous in the dim light of the chamber, contrasting sharply with the stark white hair that was pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. This hairstyle accentuated the sharp angles of her face, giving her an air of cold authority.

She was clad in intricately designed armor that hugged her slender form like a second skin. The armor was a complex weave of grey leather and what looked like darkened, gold-metallic plates, each piece molded to fit her body with precision. The design was both beautiful and fearsome, with overlapping sections that resembled the scales of some ancient, mythical beast, each piece catching the flickering light in a dull, almost ominous gleam.

Her posture exuded absolute control - shoulders back, chin slightly raised - as if she were a queen surveying her domain. The armor's sculpted pauldrons flared slightly at her shoulders, adding to her imposing presence. But it was her eyes that truly captured Ishta's attention. A vivid crimson hue burned within them, radiating a cold and calculating intelligence that seemed to see through all pretenses.

But beneath the arrogance and power, Ishta sensed a deadly focus - the mark of a seasoned warrior who had survived countless battles. Failure was not an option for this woman, and she was not one to be swayed by words or flattery easily.

Minthara's icy gaze bore into Ishta, her voice laced with disdain and sharp as a blade. "I do not entertain interruptions from underlings."

As she turned to face them fully, an unnerving chill crept into Ishta's mind, like a cold hand caressing her thoughts.

The chamber around them seemed to melt away, replaced by a dark, void of endless nothingness. Within this void, a vision unfolded before Ishta's eyes - Minthara listening intently as a pale-eyed young woman whispered in her ear. The woman's presence was eerie yet familiar, connected to the ominous voice that had assaulted Ishta's mind earlier - one of the Chosen. And just as quickly as it came, the vision dissipated, leaving Ishta standing once again in the dimly lit chamber with the Drow's imposing figure still looming over her.

A faint incredulous smile curled on Minthara's lips as the vision faded. "A True Soul in such a grotesque form? The Absolute has a place in Her heart even for darthiir." Her tone dripped with condescension, crimson eyes narrowing as she assessed Ishta.

The tension in the room shifted, Ishta's companions standing behind her in silence. Without hesitation, she responded in smooth and deliberate Drowic, slipping easily into the language's flowing cadence. "Lil' vlos d'lil silinrul mizil'ra naut, er'griff lil' z'ress d'lil skikudis il mire." (The blood of the hunter matters not, only the dominance of the steel she holds.)

Minthara raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, a glimmer of approval flickering in her cold eyes. "Well said. Your pronunciation is surprisingly good."

Ishta met her gaze without fear. "A friend taught me," she replied calmly. "Though in truth, my blood holds as much Ilythiiri as it does Ar-tel-quessir."

Minthara's expression shifted, the approval vanishing as her lips twisted into a sneer. She took a step closer, moving with fluid grace like a predator closing in on its prey. "An impure mongrel," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "I am not sure which is worse."

"I am the most impure of all mongrels," Ishta declared proudly, her heart pounding in her chest. "I am Xindite."

Gale and Wyll stiffened beside her, their silence heavy with unspoken questions. This was the first time Ishta had openly admitted her heritage to them. She could sense their curiosity and surprise, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

For the first time, Minthara's eyes widened slightly, a spark of genuine interest igniting in those crimson depths. She uncrossed her arms and studied Ishta anew. "Xindite?" The word slipped from her lips like a serpent's hiss. "A child of the Red Wars. I did not expect to find one such as you among the ranks of the Absolute."

She stepped back, a small smile of contemplation tugging at the corners of her mouth. "This may yet prove to be a blessing in disguise. Perhaps your skills can make up for the impurities in your blood... numerous though they may be."

Ishta noted the shift in Minthara's tone, the subtle calculation behind her words. The Drow was intrigued, and that intrigue might be their only leverage. Minthara's gaze moved over her once more, lingering just long enough to let Ishta know she was being weighed and judged - perhaps found useful.

Minthara turned slightly, sweeping her hand over the maps and scrolls cluttering her desk. "As you can see," she said, regaining her cold authority, "I am surrounded by imbeciles and spineless worms." Her lip curled in disgust as she glanced at the door where the Goblin had fled. "In sufficient numbers, Goblins can be an effective force - expendable and willing. But they lack the intelligence to lead this hunt with me. Do you?" She fixed Ishta with a challenging stare, waiting for her response.

Ishta allowed a small smile to play on her lips, calculating and controlled. She shifted her weight slightly, appearing more at ease as if the tension between them had dissipated. "I always relish a new hunt," she said, her voice barely concealing a hint of excitement. "However, I am already on one of my own. I'm searching for a Druid named Halsin."

Minthara's interest sharpened, her narrowed eyes studying Ishta's face for any signs of deceit. She leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms once again. "Interesting. What do you know of this Druid?"

Ishta met her gaze head-on, keeping her voice steady as she lied through gritted teeth. "I have orders to capture him."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Minthara's features. She pushed off from the desk and took a step closer to Ishta, her presence suddenly more intense and menacing. "If you were sent here to hunt him, perhaps you can help me. The Druid resides in a nearby sanctuary where his followers worship a false god. I intend to find it and destroy it." Her tone was final and cold, as if the destruction of the sanctuary was inevitable. "We have captured a human who knows its exact location. He's proven to be resilient, but he will talk..."

Ishta gave a confident smile, her tone laced with a dark promise. "I can be very persuasive," she purred, her eyes glinting with determination. "I will interrogate the prisoner."

Minthara's expression flickered with satisfaction. She took a step back, but her intense gaze never left Ishta's face. "Excellent," she said, the sound akin to a low growl. "Just make sure not to kill him before he reveals what we need."

"As you wish," Ishta replied, her tone calm and obedient, even as her mind raced with the implications of their exchange.

Minthara's gaze lingered on her for a few more moments, as if trying to unravel the thoughts hidden behind Ishta's calm exterior.

Then, with a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned back to her desk, signaling the end of their conversation.

Ishta let out a soft sigh of relief as she turned to leave. Gale and Wyll fell into step beside her, their expressions betraying both curiosity and concern. She could feel their eyes on her, unspoken questions hanging in the air between them, but now was not the time to address them.

They had managed to secure Minthara's temporary trust, but they were still deep in enemy territory. Every step they took was a precarious dance along the thin line between deception and discovery. And Ishta knew all too well how quickly the tables could turn - when the hunter became the hunted in an instant.

—¤—

The oppressive gloom of the Worg pens Ishta had just left clung to her, like ticks on a deer, as she navigated the Selunite temple's winding corridors. The stench of sweat, blood, and mildew still lingered, a grim reminder of the battle they had fought not long ago. The cold, damp walls seemed to press in around her, but Ishta's thoughts were focused on the task ahead. Still, traces of amusement flickered across her mind as she recalled the events from earlier.

She couldn't help but smile as she recalled Astarion's look of utter embarrassment when he had mistakenly assumed she and Halsin were lovers - the moment had been priceless. It had been a fleeting moment of vulnerability from someone who typically wore confidence like a second skin.

Ishta had tried to explain, patiently at first, that her relationship with Halsin was nothing more than the bond of adventuring partners, forged over a year of traveling together, facing danger side by side. But despite her reassurances, Astarion had retreated, sulking in a corner, his insecurity as evident as the scowl that marred his usually smirking features. Her fit of laughter probably hadn't done much to soothe his bruised ego either...

But there had been more pressing matters. The group had debated their next move, with Lae'zel suggesting they lure the Goblins to the grove. Ishta had agreed - it was too risky to fight the horde in this rabbit warren of a temple where they held the advantage. It had taken all of her determined logic to convince Halsin of this, who had been torn between his protective instincts and the necessity of their plan.

In the end, Halsin had agreed, though reluctantly. He had promised that he could reach the grove by sundown if he wildshaped into a falcon to make the journey quickly. Before leaving, he had given Ishta a parting embrace, his strength a brief comfort, before transforming into a rat and disappearing into the shadows.

Another boon to Ishta's plan had come from Gale, who informed her that he had placed teleportation sigils along their route to the temple, ensuring their return would be that much swifter. The thought of not having to travel through the swamp had bolstered everyone's mood, even Astarion's.

The Goblins, however, would take days to march to the grove, giving them time to prepare defenses.

Now, as Ishta made her way to speak with Minthara, she felt the weight of what she was about to do. Convincing the Drow leader to fall into their trap would be no easy task. Minthara was cunning, and one wrong word could unravel everything.

Ishta boldly pushed open the heavy, oak doors leading into Minthara's chamber, their ancient hinges creaking in protest, the groans swallowed by the oppressive silence of the room beyond. She entered with measured steps, her expression composed yet her mind a flurry of calculated thoughts. It was time to set the final part of their plan in motion.

Ishta walked across the chamber with purpose, her boots echoing softly against the stone floor. She paused a few paces away from Minthara, just outside the reach of the other woman's weapon. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by the distant sound of Goblins squabbling somewhere down the corridor.

Minthara broke the silence first, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. "Report. And make it quick - organizing these creatures tests my patience."

Ishta inclined her head slightly, her expression remaining composed despite the tense atmosphere. She took a step closer, careful to keep her movements smooth and unhurried. "These Goblins are even more hopeless than I thought," she began, her voice cutting through the silence with a sharp, clear note of derision. "Not only did they kill the prisoner, but they were too stupid to realize they had a Druid from the grove right under their noses."

The words struck Minthara like a slap, causing her head to snap up and her eyes to narrow into slits. She straightened to full height, her attention now fully on Ishta. The grip on her sword tightened, the leather of her gauntlets creaking under the pressure. "What?!" she demanded, her voice rising with barely contained anger. "Explain yourself."

Ishta held Minthara's fierce gaze without flinching, her own eyes steady and unwavering. She subtly shifted her weight, silently preparing for any potential violence that may erupt. "The bear in the Worg pens," she explained calmly, savoring the tension in the room before continuing. "Turns out he was the grove's First Druid himself. He tore up the place and started slaughtering all the guards. Seeing an opportunity, I decided to help him escape."

Minthara's jaw clenched, her breathing becoming more deliberate as she processed the information. "You did... what?" Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as moved out from behind the table and took a step forward, closing the gap between them until their faces were mere inches apart. "I trust you had a very good reason. Though I cannot fathom what possible excuse you might have for committing treason against the Absolute."

Ishta could feel the heat of Minthara's breath, but she remained composed, her heart steady despite the perilous line she walked. She had anticipated this reaction, counted on it, even. The trick was to control it, to mold Minthara's anger into something she could use.

Ishta lifted her chin slightly, her piercing gaze never wavering from Minthara's face. "Sometimes, if you want to find a hive full of honey, you need to follow a bee," she stated calmly, her voice like ice water in contrast to the tense atmosphere between them. With a cunning gleam in her eye, Ishta continued, "While the grateful fool was busy thanking me, I managed to attach a charm onto his clothing. My Raven familiar is attuned to this charm and will lead us straight to the grove." Her words hung in the air, dripping with smug satisfaction.

Minthara's anger simmered just below the surface, but she held back from lashing out. Instead, she carefully studied Ishta's face, searching for any trace of deceit. Her grip on her sword loosened slightly and her posture relaxed ever so slightly as she considered Ishta's words.

After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, Minthara gave a curt nod of approval, although the tension still radiated from her body. "For your sake, I hope you are right," she grudgingly admitted, her sharp gaze still lingering on Ishta for a moment longer. "You have shown great cunning, Xindite. Perhaps there truly is more Ilythiiri blood in you than I first thought." She paused before continuing with a hint of begrudging respect in her tone. "I would ask you to use that cunning once more."

As Minthara paced a few steps, her boots scuffing against the uneven stones beneath them, she outlined her plan. Ishta would travel ahead of the warband and approach the grove under the guise of a friend. Once inside, she would open the gates for Minthara's raiding party to strike at the opportune moment.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ishta's lips as she nodded in understanding and acknowledgement. She had played her hand well, and Minthara's grudging approval was proof enough. "As you command, My Lady," she replied respectfully, with a hint of triumph that she didn't bother to hide.

As Ishta turned to leave, she could feel Minthara's calculating gaze following her every move. It reminded her that the fragile trust she had just earned could easily be shattered. Steeling herself, Ishta reached for the door and paused, taking a moment to compose herself before stepping out into the dimly lit corridor. The heavy door creaked shut behind her, sealing both the chamber and Minthara within its confines.

In the coolness of the corridor, Ishta let out a slow exhale and leaned against the stone wall for support. The game was far from over and the stakes were high. But for now, Ishta had played her part well and that would have to suffice.

It's a dangerous game to try and outwit a Drow...

Xindites are a race I created for my fanfic. In simple terms, they are an Elven eugenics experiment. Ishta has the blood of nearly every Elven race in Faerûn running through her veins. The true nature of the experiment will be revealed later on.... it's quite a grim tale.

[medra-gonbites]

Behold: One of my OC Tav, Medra Gonbites (yes, I like puns)

Alignement: Lawfully good, leaning towards Chaotic Good (I mean the nerve on some people, they sometimes need to be taught a lesson.).

Class: Paladin (Oath of Vengeance)

Love Interest: Gale Dekarios (husband)

Likes: Music, red wine, a good pair of shoes,

Hates: Liars, rodents (except Boo, although he gives him the creeps sometimes), poor craftsmanship

Backstory:

Medra is a Drow Seldarine who grew up in Ust Natha where he originally was a cobbler in the service of House Despana.

His dashing good looks caught the attention of a powerful sorcerer Matron. Upon his refusal to consort with her, she enslaved him for many years.

Medra finally escaped, not without a fight, during which he received several painful burns; one of which, particularly severe, left a scar across his face (and he is very self conscious about it).

Once he reached the surface, he became a wandering Paladin of Shevarash, bound by an Oath of Vengeance, seeking to convert or correct other drows that tarnished the reputation of his race in the realms.

He preferes Adamantine's armour and weapon (two handed sword) as they are familiar to him and he adopts the Z'ress a'thalak fighting style.

Prior to the event of the game he had found the tome The Great Furnace of Grymforge on the body of a Drow he had killed in an attempt to defend a gnome in a bar brawl in Baldur's Gate.

Medra got kidnapped by the illithids and abducted on the nautiloid as he was searching for the entrance to Underdark access to the forge of Grymforge.

[bloodcrave]

" you are clearly no mere rivvil (human). You do not carry yourself as they do. You radiate z'ress power and strength that much is clear. What are you? " ;; minthara to alina

"WOW, you just go for it, huh? you know you could like. at least introduce yourself. give a little hello. ask me how my day's going... just going to go STRAIGHT at it." though tongue clicked, there edged humor to the demon's voice, and the glitter of blue depths seemed flecked with golden intrigue. lips curled into a faint smile, leaning back within the seat she lounged. her fingers danced a feather amongst them, spinning almost like one might a coin. e n t i c i n g dance, hypnotizing... though not literally. her magic didn't specialize in control. her mother might have endeavored in such powers, but alina's interest had never contemplated such. instead, the item would come to a still, and canted head sent locked of blonde drifting to the wayside. "what's it matter to you, anyways? what will my answer influence? i don't really intend to have anything sharp coming aimed at my chest if you know what i mean." not that such a threat would mean much to her. there was ways to kill her but a blow to the heart would be one of the t r i c k i e r options. providing the proper solution wasn't going to come from her lips, however. so she baited, curious. "but i'm definitely not rivvil."

@spiderscorned

[susann-noir]

Hope

collab with @mogruith

[whitewingedcrow]

Spoiler, if you give me options for what to draw and a drow is involved, 11/10 chance that’s what I’m gonna pick. Character belongs to datfluffypillow@TH, who has a lot of really gorgeous art of her which made this really easy!

[lichfucker]

the boys got engaged last night so I've been listening to the song I wrote after their disastrous first date and feeling supremely emo

[keplercryptids]

[image description copied from alt text: a cartoony drawing of an npc from my d&d game, z'ress. they are a slender drow with dark purple skin, white freckles, and white hair in braids. he's wearing a cropped baggy gray hoodie, black sweatpants and yellow boots. One hand is resting on top of their head and they're looking at the viewer with a slight smirk. The background is yellow, fading to white at the bottom of the frame.]

just a quick cartoony dood of the dude

[quasieli]

[ID copied from alt text: A digitally drawn GIF of a dark purple hand set against a yellow background, flipping a silver coin quickly between its fingers. The coin has a spoked wagon wheel with a spiraled eye at its center. End description.]

Just another fun lil animation, this time of our good rogue friend Z'ress flipping a coin!

[arreloi]

Time to play yet again 

[lichfucker]

[image description: a black and white illustration of numerous different daggers arranged in a semicircle with the tips of their blades pointing to the center. end id]