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dragon-fics · 3 years ago

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HA: Ch. 16 The Apprentice and Her Master

Chapter summary: Left in the void alone, Heather must confront the mysterious person who is supposedly waiting for her

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

The figures faded away, and Heather stood in silence. Her muscles relaxed; she wasn’t even aware she was so tense. Heather glanced around the dark abyss, trembling slightly as it all hit her. She had passed their test… the test she wasn’t even sure she had even the slightest chance of passing. Heather drew in a long breath and hugged herself.

“Can—,” her voice was small and shaken, “can I talk to Aaravos now?”

The abyss stayed silent and dark; there was no sign of this person. Heather sighed and walked forward, head low and arms close to her stomach. She wished she could wake up already. Tonight had been exciting enough.

Then a whoosh and a bright light came from behind her. Heather turned around, looking at the pale portal in front of her. “Hello?”

Out of the portal came a dark figure, nowhere near as tall as the most talkative member of the council., but still taller than Heather, by about a foot. Long white locks billowed behind them as they walked forward, eyes and chest glowing.

Heather squinted. “Aaravos?”

The glowing portal faded away, allowing her to get a better look at the figure heading towards her.

He smiled. “You did excellent, Heather.”

She grinned. “Heh, it’s all your training, Sparkles.” She drifted towards him. “So… are you the one they were talking about?” She reached for his hand to ensure he was actually there. To her relief, she could hold it.

He gently wrapped his cool fingers around her and, ensuring her further, a small smile slipping onto his face. Aaravos shook his head, his smile fading away. “I don’t think so.”

Heather frowned and looked around at the abyss. Who else could want to see her?

Another orb of light appeared close by and slowly lowered itself to the ‘ground’. Its light faded away to reveal another elf… but this one was very much unlike the others. They didn’t have skin that reminded Heather of the heavens. Instead, their skin was almond brown with patches of grey and stars scattered around their body. They had short, undercut, bob cut silver hair and deer-like antlers on their head. They were lean built with pointed features, looking both but neither masculine nor feminine.

Heather peered at them and unconsciously reached for her facial markings. Theirs were very similar to hers. “Who… are you?”

They chuckled and looked at Aaravos. “Care to tell her, Master?”

Heather looked back at him, still holding his hand. She frowned. In none of his memoirs, had she found any mention of an apprentice.

Aaravos stare silently at the young elf. For the first time, Heather saw him stunned.

They came closer, a smile on their face. “It’s good to see you too, Father.”

Heather’s frown deepened. This was getting more convoluted by the second. This elf was revealing so much so quickly.

Aaravos released her hand and placed his hand on the mystery elf’s cheek, smiling down at them. “I thought I lost you, Elluin.”

They smiled, a tear rolling down their face. “You could never lose me.” Elluin looked at Heather. “not while she’s around.” They wiped away their tears and moved over to stand in front of Heather.

She glanced from them to Aaravos and wiped away his own stray tear. “So… who are you?”

They chuckled. “I am Elluin. And I was you in your past life. I am also the one who deliver you your prophecy.” They rolled their eyes.

Heather barked a laugh. “Exactly.”

Elluin smiled. “Shall we get started? And I’ll explain everything.”

*~*~*~*

Heather sat up groggily, morning sunshine blinding her as it poured into her eyes like burning lava. She groaned, glancing around the sun washed teal room. The night hadn’t seemed real, yet she could remember everything but her prophecy. She sighed, getting off out of the shallow pool of water, her gold and black outfit bone dry. She hummed and stepped out onto the steps, her bare feet warmed by the sun-touched tiles.

She opened the door of the room and walked down the long corridor. For a long moment, she was mesmerized, caught up in a web of her own thoughts. She had been destined to meet Aaravos? Heather found it hard to believe. She wound her way through his vast home, making her way down to the small kitchen and living area of his gigantic house.

He had mentioned that the tiny room was the heart of the house, where Aaravos had some of his greatest moments. At the time, Heather thought he meant achievements, but now she knew it had something to do with Elluin.

Heather entered the small kitchen, looking out at the large glass window that overlooked the Midnight Desert and Lux Aurea in the distance. She hopped up onto the violet stool by the obsidian counter, attempting to grasp what had happened last night. She stared at the black counter top as she thought, not noticing Aaravos walking in after her.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Good morning, Heather.”

“Morning,” she mumbled, coming out of her thoughts.

He smirked, tracing his hand over part of her she didn’t quite recognise.

Heather’s heart leapt, and she spun off the stool. Aaravos barely moved out of the way in time, and she spun around. On her back were a set of large wings, with the same ombre of indigo to yellow as her arms. She stretched them out, getting a long look at their glittering beauty. But they weren’t just glittering in the sun… they were twinkling with stars. Heather froze, her silver eyes narrowing. She looked at her hands. Stars were scattered across her skin. She took a quick peek down at her top. A small, white symbol of the star arcanum was embedded in her skin, high on her chest.

A muffled squeal escaped Heather as he spun around to face Aaravos. She chuckled madly and hopped on the spot. She dove into a hug, wrapping her arms around Aaravos. “Thank you,” Heather whispered.

Aaravos looked down at her, a soft smile on his face. He placed the bundle of clothing on the counter. “No, thank you, Heather.” He gently hugged her back. They stood there for a while, in each other’s embrace.

She slowly released him, stepping away with a broad smile. Her gaze drifted over to the bundle of clothing. She stepped forward, eyeing it curiously. “These are the garments you’ve been working on at night.” She observed.

Aaravos frowned. “Yes, they are.” He placed a silvery hand on top of the pile. “They’re for you.”

Heather glanced from him to the garments. “For me?”

He inclined his head. “I made them for when you passed your test, so you’d have clothes that suited you.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks, Sparkles.” She picked up the clothes. “Lets try them on, I guess.” She scuttled away with the bundle, leaving Aaravos standing in the room on his own. He reached for his sewing things, finishing a piece of embroidery.

When Heather returned, a figure-hugging black and purple tunic-length vest hung on her body. A small window was cut out for her star to shine through, and its core held an overlapping pointed design. Her leggings ended at her foot, allowing her feet to touch the ground. She presumed it was for her mimicking.

Heather spun around. “I love it!” she hissed. She then reached for the last piece of clothing. A cloak. It was the same black design as Aaravos’ with a silver accent to match her eyes. On the pointed hood were the symbols of the sun and sky arcana. She threw it on, liking that it ended above the knee for swift movement. She squealed again. “we’ll be a matching master and apprentice duo.” She grinned.

Aaravos chuckled, turning around. “That we can. But I have one more thing for you, Heather.” He drew a rune, something long and silver appearing in his hands. As he turned around, Heather got a better look at the long object. It was a slender pole with a large silver ring at one end. Between the ring and the tip of the pole, a large stone was embedded. In the ring were five other stones. Each one shone a different colour; one yellow, one teal, another deep blue, one emerald green, another pale blue, and the centre one was a shimmering lilac.

“I present to you the Apprentice Archmage’s staff.” He held it out to her. “For my apprentice.”

Heather smiled, taking the staff from him gently, getting used to its feel. “Thank you, Master.”

~The End~

There was supposed to be an epilogue, but it had no real purpose in the story and unfortunately I’m rather stuck for time. Thank you for sticking around and seeing the end of the book. If you would like to see the continuation, its first chapter is up, titled His Home. it won’t revolve very much about any of the canon Dragon Prince characters, it’s just set in the Dragon Prince universe. Thank you all so much for getting me 2,000 reads on this story. I will edit it sometime later this year or mid next year, depending on how life goes for me. Thanks again!

EmmaPRIME

#his apprentice #aaravos #the dragon prince

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getetteroo · 4 years ago

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what are durth’s adventures around skyrim like? :3 when does she meet her pals, and in what order did u play her quests in-game? sorry if this is a loaded question, i just rly love her ;-;

I decided to make a bit of a timeline under the cut. It’s not the most interesting written thing, but it’s pretty much everything. I will go more into detail about how she met Inigo and Rumarin later in a different post.

Before Helgen-

Age 6 - Durth lost her mother to the Thalmor at 6 years old, prompting her family to move from Markarth to Riften.

As a teen she and her brother get up to a lot of trouble in Riften, but their dad made sure they know not to meddle with the guild. Uncle Urag comes over every once in a while to teach them to read and write and Durth eventually gets a small job at the Temple (mostly keeping things clean.)

Age 18 - Durth has been accepted at the college of Winterhold! She meets Onmund, Brelyna and J’zargo there. She spends four years at the college and the quest takes place in the last two of them.

Age 23 - Instead of being made the new Archmage because really? I’d like to think she’d been offered some sort of apprenticeship Psijic Order. She went with them and spend quite a long time there. She wasn’t actually planning to ever leave but someday she suddenly got a letter stating that her father was dying.

After Helgen-

Age 27 - Durth travels home in hope to see her dad one more time before he dies. However upon arriving at the border she immediately got picked up by the imperial army and carted to Helgen.

Durth saw the dragon, saw the chaos, followed Ralof out and then BOOKED it to Riften. She was able to meet up with her family, she didn’t tell them what happened on her way there not wanting to bother her father on what pretty much turned out to be his last day.

After that, she decided to leave again. She thought about making her way to Winterhold to figure out what the hell was going on in skyrim these days. But on her way out of Riften she got recognized by Brynjolf who, as he tends to do, immedeatly tried to recruit her into the thievesguild. Durth being incredibly insulted and emotional started a fight.

And that is how she met Inigo, being tossed into the same cell as him. And she pretty much immediately broke down and dumped everything that happened to her that day on him. Together they came to the conclusion that maybe, the jarl of Whiterun should be notified of this. Y’know seeing as far as Durth knows, only two people actually made it out.

From there the quest pretty much continues as normal.

On her way from High Hrothgar to the tomb of Jurgen Windcaller she meets Rumarin. She is head-over-heals within a week.

In between the main quest they get up to a lot of shenanigans, turning into a full fledged adventurers group. She picks up Lucia somewhere on the way.

Age 29 - Then as the peace treaty failed, Durth joined the stormcloaks. She got into an argument about it with Inigo and Rumarin, not talking to either of them for a while. Inigo ended up doing quite a lot of work to stay friends with her but Ru was a bit to stubborn to contact her first.

During the war she adopts Braith after her parents die in the attack of Whiterun. Almost being branded a deserter for it by not seeing the entire fight through. Durth absolutly hates having joined the Stormcloaks after they storm Markarth.

After the rebellion and being kicked out after a fight with Ulfric she returns to her friends with her tail in-between her legs, asking them if they still want to help her end this thing. And they did. Inigo even following her to Sovengarde and back.

Age 30- she is finally done with the main quest. She stays at home in Riften for a while but grows restless pretty fast. She officially joins the College of Winterhold again and does mostly field work. And so they keep adventuring for some time, mostly on the east side of Skyrim so she can stay close to her daughters and the College. She gets married to Rumarin somewhere around this time.

Age 33- Some cultists show up to Riften and threaten her and her kids in the middle of the market square, she is not amused. She pretty much speedrunned her way to Miraak.

Age 40 something- The kids are moving out, her brother wants to move back into Honeyside (which is technically his.) Durth, Ru and Inigo build a house in The Pale. Durth gets even more involved with the College again now that she’s closer.

Age 50 something- Durth is getting a little bit too fragile for Adventuring, she takes up a teaching position at the college. Inigo, even more fragile comes with her and settles down in Winterhold, loving company he opens a small bar as Winterhold is slowly rebuild again. Rumarin starts adventuring again, usually solo but there is no shortage of friends they made along the way that need help sometimes.

Age 58 - Durth officially becomes Archmage. Most would have preferred an elf, not seeing the use of someone so old already to be Archmage. But with Brelyna already chosen als her successor most people just accepted it, if only to give Brelyna more time to prepare. No one really expecting Durth to do her ABSOLUTE DAMNDEST to get Winterhold back on the map.

Durth tried to make the public opinion of the College better, and it worked! She actually got involved with the politics in skyrim, unlike how the college before tried to distance itself. Winterhold grew, it wasn’t going to be what it once was but people were making a start. She actually became friends with Jarl Korir, took a lot of work though.

Age 84 - Since Alduin Durth had been toying with the idea of time travel. The idea of going back an fixing mistakes she made, seeing what could have been or maybe just giving herself more time. Mora had been showing up every once in a while to feed these ideas, wich ended up being her downfall. One day she opened a black book and she did not come back.

Sorry for any grammar mistakes, but that’s about it. (i’m glad you love her <3)

#long post #oc: Durth #This will contain gramatical errors and such

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creativerogues · 5 years ago

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I’m Making a Player’s Guide!

Chapter 0: Welcome to the World!

History of the World: A brief history of the world’s events from the foundings of each country to the sealing away of the gods to the War Underground between the Elves of the West and the Drow of the Himmelblas...

Life on the Continent: A brief section on what it’s like to live in the world as it is today, still recovering from a war over half a century ago, and tensions ever rising in the east as new magics are being created and studied in the west...

Chapter 1-ish: Character Creation

An in-depth explanation of where in the world you might find each race and class from the PHB and other Source Books.

Introducing Gemstone Dragonborn as a new Subrace for Dragonborn, from MCDM’s Strongholds & Followers, as well as an explanation of how the Gemstone Dragonborn came to be in this world...

A List of potential Group Patrons that Adventurers could work for, from the Silver Charge Mercenary Company to the Archmages of Capitol to the State Azures of Zokend...

Chapter 2-ish: Gazetteer of the World!

Nations of the Continent: An explanation of each of Nation, from the high elves of Capitol and Western Carthisia to the small western isle of Mocrait, from the great and ever-spanning Himmelblas Mountains to the mysterious southern Wolfwood and the Shadow Empire that lies buried beneath the world’s surface...

Explore Western Carthisia, Mocrait, the Himmelblas Mountains, the Wolfwood, Valdor, Laumador, Zokend, Unter & Vuul!

Distant Lands: Learn of the forgotten continent of Harac, and the sand-blasted deserts of Rassumurait...

Chapter 3-ish: Faiths of the World...

An explanation of the Core Pantheon, as well as a list of the outlawed gods...

A list and explanations of the many famous cults of the world, from the Cult of the Blue Wyrm King to a strange group calling themselves Mephistopheles...

Learn of new gods and powers within the world, from the Haracan Pantheon to the vast Pantheon of Rassumurati Gods, Lesser Gods and Divine Servants...

Chapter 3-ish: Capitol!

Life in Capitol: A commoner’s perspective on life within the Capitol.

Baron Casmong: A explanation of Baron Casmong and his seemingly endless wealth after his success...

The Archmages of Capitol: A look into the Archmages of Capitol, who they are, and how exactly magic works within the Capitol’s walls...

The Royalty of Capitol: An explanation of the royal drama within Capitol and of how King Randor the Second wishes for nothing more than a successor better than his daughter...

The Edhel Halls: An explanation of the Edhel Halls Library of Excellence, a library famous for being the birthplace of many spells and many famous mages that still roam the history books of today...

The War College: An explanation of the Capitol’s War College and their working into new War Magics...

Important Locations in Capitol: From King’s Street to The Goose & Gander all the way to Bilgrim’s Menagerie of Scrolls and Miscellaneous..

Chapter 4-ish: Building Adventures...

Plot Hooks for every Nation: From the Dullahan of Bluemite to the Ancient Dragon that sleeps beneath the Blackhorn Volcano, from the forgotten Noble of Capitol to missing Archmages, run your own (mis)adventures in the world!

Heroes of the Past: A Section dedicated to the Legendary Heroes throughout History! Some still alive today! Such as the mighty Quindan of Carthis Randor, now hand to the new King, or Shadowdancer Yang Black, now master of his own monastery..

Chapter 5-ish: Homebrew!

A Whole Lot of New Spells!: All new homebrew spells to use in your campaign! From False Sending to Swift Reading to powerful new magics like Mass Haste and Psychic Clap.

A Whole Lot of New Magic Items!: All new homebrew magic items from Arrows of the Bull to the Amulet of Weave-Seeing to the Backstabber Blade and the all now-famous Potion of Dragon Control...

A Whole Lot of NPCs!: Stat Blocks for Silver Charge Mercenaries to Mages of the War College and the Edhel Halls to Haracan Mystics, Red Dagger Assassins and even the Ghost of a Fire Giant King!

A Whole Lot of Monsters!: From the Treasure Golem that guards the Royal Vault of King Unter, to the fearsome Purple Worm Matron that nests deep within the Himmelblas Mountain Range, find a whole bunch of new monsters to throw at your Players!

A Whole Lot of Backgrounds!: Maybe your Character was a member of the Silver Charge? Or perhaps a famed Red Dagger Assassin for the Emperor? With a bunch of new campaign-specific backgrounds, you can create some pretty awesome characters...

What other stuff is it gonna have?

A Pronunciation Guide: Because words are hard sometimes...

A Calendar: A Calendar noting specific Holy Days, Rituals and Celestial Events...

Important Teleportation Circles: Circles to the War College, the Edhel Halls Archives, the Library of Saturnity and more...

Reincarnation Table: A whole new Reincarnation Table that now includes Races from Volo’s Guide to Monsters and Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes!

A Wild Magic Surge Table: A Variant Wild Magic Surge Table to add even more chaos to your games!

Name Lists: A List of Male, Female and Gender-Neutral Names for People from each and every Region...

Is this Ambitious as hell? Aw, Yeah!

Which is why having the community help out when they can is so great! From creating People, Places, Homebrew Content and More!

So, if you’re interested in helping create some content, or just wanna flex your D&D knowledge, shoot a message to @creativerogues and let me know!

What’s been written so far?

A heck of a lot, that’s what!

With over 10 new homebrew spells, 10 new magic items, 8 new backgrounds and a bunch of new homebrew monsters, the homebrew section is looking good.

My personal favorite part of the Player’s Guide as it is right now are the Distant Lands of Harac and Rassumurait, and writing them has been a blast!

And a HUGE (like, waaay huge!) credit to @bxrtimaeus on Tumblr for all the knowledge and lore on ancient Egypt that’s really helped build Rassumurait as a desert kingdom, and for being my personal “English to Ancient Egyptian” Translator! XD

Overall, even though the Draft isn’t even an 1/8th of the way written, it already totals almost ~30 Pages of just my DM World-building Notes, with some notes from Friends and other people that are much better writers than me...

Oh yeah, and big note: I’M NOT AN ACTUAL PROFESSIONAL WRITER!

I’M DOING THIS FOR THE GIGGLES!

How can I help?

Over the course of the next few weeks and months, I’ll be posting little snippets from the Player’s Guide as it’s being written, from New Spells that need testing to New Monsters, Backgrounds and NPCs that I want you’re help making!

You can also just literally message me directly at @creativerogues and ask! Any help is gonna be appreciated!

When do you expect to get this finished?

I have no figgin’ clue! :D

#Players Guide #worldbuilding #homebrew #homebrew rules #Homebrew Monster #homebrew spells #homebrew race #community #communitymade

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cero-tia · 5 years ago

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LFRP - A’panghur Tia

Please come meet the Cero of an alternate timeline--the cat he would have been if Dalamud hadn’t fallen down and conked him on the noggin.

Full Name: A'panghur Tia

Gender and Sex: Male and about an 82 on the 1-100 Femme/Masc scale

Pronouns: He, him, his

Ethnicity/Species: Ala Mhigan Seeker Miqo'te, of the A tribe

Birthplace and Birthdate: 5th day of the 4th Umbral moon, the month of Rhalgr

Guilty Pleasures: Curling up nearly anywhere with a good book. Dancing, especially at dawn. Oranges. Herbal sachets with scents that remind him of home. Pressing flowers from foreign lands that he sends back to his sisters in the Peaks. Using his carbuncle to help him cheat in street scuffles.

Phobias: After a time, Panghur’s letters home stopped making it through, and he stopped receiving any. His memories of home are muddled with time, as he was only 9 when he left to come to Eorzea, but he recalls the threatening armored faces of the soldiers who were already starting to occupy Ala Mhigo. He is hyper aware of Garlean influence, appearance, names, etc in the people around him, and it puts him on edge to even think about them. Other than this totally rational leeriness about the people who subdued his own, he is unfortunately without much fear (although some would argue he hasn’t got the good sense to be afraid when he should be).

What They Would Be Famous For: Probably for saving whole cities again and again? Panghur is a Warrior of Light, and was present for at least some of the campaigns that the Scions instigated to counter the threat of primal uprisings. After the Calamity, he became a prominent figure in the adventuring circles, specifically in those pertaining to the freeing of Ala Mhigo. He was at the fall of Baelsar’s Wall, and was at the battle to see his homeland freed from oppression.

I may find more depth to his story as I experience it fresh while I am leveling him–so far it is a bit vague, and I know a great deal more about how Cero managed the post-Calamity Eorzea than I know how Pangur did. Expect updates!

What Have They / Would They Gotten Arrested For: Inciting a riot, spray painting pro-Resistance propaganda, dumb mischief (that he always talks himself out of), espionage, being a rebel in a time of oppression. Either extremely light, slap-on-the-wrist stuff, or extremely serious, bag-over-your-head-in-the-middle-of-the-night stuff.

OC(s) You Ship Them With: No OCs yet! He’s still building connections to the RP community.

OC Most Likely To Murder them: No OCs hate him that much yet, but I would love to find him a Garlean antagonist.

Favorite Book Genre: Panghur devours tomes of magical theory and practical application. He has a large library in his Ul'dah apartment of books he’s collected over the years. Prize among them are his hard-to-find and definitely illegal-to-own books on the forbidden Black magics.

Least Favorite Book Cliche: He doesn’t hate any books, but he just rolls his eyes at romantic bodice-busters and other hyperbolic brain rot prose. It doesn’t stop him from reading them, now and then.

Talents and/or Powers: Panghur is a canon Warrior of Light, and his Echo manifests as a canny ability to read faces and the occasional fit of visions.

He is also a powerful Archmage, having studied at the three major schools of magic from the time he was but nine summers old. His powers of summoning and thaumaturgy are explosive and cleverly wielded, but also have the calm, controlled experience of the balance of conjury to hone them. He favors his emerald carbuncle, Emeraulde, and is not above throwing rocks when all else fails.

Panghur is also, and has always been, cocksure and precocious. As a young child he was full to the brim of magical talent, and though he has tempered his boastful confidence somewhat upon maturing, he is still very smart, and knows it, and uses it to his advantage when it comes to outsmarting Garlean patrols or haggling down a used-book vendor in the markets.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He fights fiercely for his homeland. He loves his family and wants to make Ala Mhigo safe for them, and for everyone else’s family. He is clever and delights in making people laugh. He isn’t afraid to get down and dirty in a fight, especially if someone needs defending. He’s got a beautiful face, and the most charming freckles you ever did see over his golden desert-cat tan. If he loves you, he’ll make sure you know it every day.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: He feels passionately about the freedom of his homeland, and can be aggressive about his feelings if he feels he’s not being listened to or taken seriously (imagine Alexander Hamilton standing on a table demanding to know ‘where the ammunition’s at’). His confidence can come off as arrogant or boastful. He likes to be at the center of the action, and can appear bossy if he gets wrapped up in what’s going on. He studies (in secret) forbidden magic. He has used his carbuncles to table top people he feels need to be taken down a peg, more than once.

How They Change: When he began his journey to Eorzea, Panghur was a precocious child of 9, spouting off bursts of magic because he could, with little thought to finesse or control. In Limsa Lominsa, he learned how to summon, and how to make friends with dock rats and street urchins, and how to run around behind adults backs to have fun and get in trouble and explore.

In Gridania, he learned conjury, and the importance of balance, and healing, and slowing down to appreciate the small things, the quiet things, the weak and soft things. He learned how to temper his exuberance with meditation and inner-contemplation, and how to strategize.

In Ul'dah, he learned how to blow shit up. He learned a lot more about thaumaturgy than just that, but that was the big part. He learned how to sweet talk high-class movers and shakers, how to navigate the behind-the-scenes powers of the upper crust and the lowest street scum. He learned about the Resistance.

He’s rediscovering himself after waking up post-Calamity, with the world five years older and the war that much further progressed in his homeland. Now he has thrown himself into the fight to free Ala Mhigo, even as he struggles to find old friends and connections and works cheerfully to make new ones.

Why You Love Them: I first came up with Cero years and years before I started playing FFXIV, and I had to play with his backstory a lot to fit him into the lore of the game. What I came up with was a smarter, cleverer version of Cero that had suffered a traumatic brain injury that lead to amnesia, and once I had that concept, A'panghur began simmering quietly in the back of my head.

I’m just very excited to flesh him out and see what he leads to, because he’s the part of Cero that never forgot his family, or his own strength. He’s a different personality than I often play, and I am very eager to see where his development leads!

#ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #ffxiv roleplay #balmung roleplay #ffxiv lfrp #I thought I put a Read More in here but I don't see it on mobile oh well

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dndeed · 6 years ago

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Critical Role Miniature Rollout C2E51

With Andrew Harshman

An archive and review of the minis used on Critical Role.

This episode feels like when you’re playing a CRPG and you stumble into an area that’s too high a level for your character. Maybe the Mighty Nein should just go back through the underground load screen and return in a few levels.

Try not to get upstaged when you move upstage, it’s time for Critical Role Miniature Rollout Campaign 2 Episode 51!

The List

Dungeons and Dragons Condition Markers by thelukec

Dwarven Forge Stone Ruins Add-On Pack

Dwarven Forge Mountain Cliff Pack

Dwarven Forge Mountain Mountain Floor Pack

Dwarven Forge Caverns Stalagmite Pack

Dwarven Forge Mountain Peak Pack

SteamForged Games Log

Steamforged Games Critical Role Miniatures

Prototype Steamforged Games Critical Role Miniatures

HeroForge Jester Duplicity Miniature

Archfiends #52 Gnoll Archer

Modified Reaper Miniatures Red Mantis Assassin

Elemental Evil #022 Gnoll Fighter

Blood War #46 Demonic Gnoll Priestess

Rage of Demons #023 Drow Archmage

Pathfinder Battles Iconic Heroes Set 5 Adowyn, Human Hunter

Desert of Desolation #44 Bar-Lgur

Waterdeep Dragon Heist #016b Spy

Archfiends #02 Dalelands Militia

Tomb of Annihilation #022 Artus Cimber

Dragoneye #28 Baaz Draconian

Human Ranger Epic Level Starter Set

Rusty Dragon Inn #009 Cutpurse

Invisible Lightfoot Halfling Rogue Epic Level Starter Set

Waterdeep Dragon Heist #002 Darkling

Pathfinder Battles Iconic Heroes Set 2 Harsk, Iconic Ranger

Archfiends #16 Graycloak Ranger

Guildmasters' Guide to Ravnica #015 Duskmantle Assassin

Dungeons & Dragons Spell Effects: Wall of Fire & Wall of Ice

Tomb of Annihilation #040i Minsc & Boo (Invisible)

Tomb of Annihilation #018i Valindra Shadowmantle (Invisible)

Axe N Shield Single Flyer Risers - Clear Mithril

Desert of Desolation #32 Rot Scarab Swarm

Custom Lollipop Spiritual Weapon

Suspected Aquarium Decorations

Leafless Model Train Style Trees

Possible Model Train Boulders

The NPCs

The Mudmen Pathfinder Battles Iconic Heroes Set 5 Adowyn, Human Hunter, Waterdeep Dragon Heist #016b Spy, Dragoneye #28 Baaz Draconian, Human Ranger Epic Level Starter Set, Guildmasters' Guide to Ravnica #015 Duskmantle Assassin, Archfiends #16 Graycloak Ranger, and Rusty Dragon Inn #009 Cutpurse

A handful of Mudfolk are represented by previously discussed minis. But there are quite a few new figures here, so let us get through them in a timely fashion. Start the clock.

Pathfinder Battles Iconic Heroes Set 5 Adowyn, Human Hunter

This ranger looks like she dressed by tripping into a pile of discount shag carpet samples. I like this mini, it’s a well executed classic archer pose.

Waterdeep Dragon Heist #016b Spy

This guy looks like a henchman from an alternate history martial arts film in which Chuck Norris fights pilgrim ninjas. Reasonably nice miniature, but the alternate sculpt is a practically indistinguishable waste of time (the knife is facing the other direction).

Dragoneye #28 Baaz Draconian

This figure looks like a bladesmith who loves violating the Geneva Convention and hates pants. Solid detail and wins the award for best value dragonborn mini.

Human Ranger Epic Level Starter Set

This character looks like an adventurer who doesn’t realize you need to use both hands to operation a bow and arrow. Good figure with a dramatic standing pose.

Guildmasters' Guide to Ravnica #015 Duskmantle Assassin

This Magic the Gathering miniature looks like the cloak has gained sentience and is trying to fly away, taking the person’s head with it. Neat animated pose, but the head is too high up and the mini looks weird in-person.

Archfiends #16 Graycloak Ranger

This archer looks like he’s recoiling at the thought of being part of a terribly named group like “The Muck Men.” An unfortunately simple paint job on a crisp sculpt.

Rusty Dragon Inn #009 Cutpurse

This miniature looks like a rogue posing in the mirror unable to decide which sword to bring to work. Weird proportions, the arms are too long, still a good rogue though.

The Villains

Kryn Caster Rage of Demons #023 Drow Archmage

In my post last week I was hoping to see some drow. But I was looking forward to some old Hasbro prepainted drow, not the current Wizkids produced drow. There are only a handful of them and they range from unremarkable to kinda crummy.

This is likely the best of the Wizkids drow figures, so I was prepared to write a fairly positive review. But after taking a closer look I found a lot to dislike about the Drow Archmage. From across a game table this mini is fine, it just doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny.

Drow are known for having some killer fashion. This dude is rocking a neato spider staff, underdark stompin’ boots, and a sorta armored fanny pack thing. He has drow looking attire on most everywhere say for some place. All he has on his torso is a detail-less generic garment. It looks like he’s wearing a stuffy dad sweater. It’s as if he was on his way out the door clad in typical drow armor and his partner stopped him to give a reminder of the schlubby sweater his kid gave him for drow father’s day. Compounding these clothing troubles is an uncomfortable pose, craned neck posture, and strange torso proportions. This mini looks good on the CR stream, just don’t zoom in too far.

Oh also his ears are literally painted on! They aren’t part of the sculpt at all.

Kryn Warrior Modified Reaper Miniatures Red Mantis Assassin

A smart modification to make this miniature look unique. The classic Pathfinder Red Mantis color is red. Giving this Kryn Warrior the stygian black treatment makes it hardly recognizable, almost looks like a wholly unique design. There are a good number of Red Mantis Pathfinder figures at this point, I look forward to seeing more of them in upcoming episodes. I like this miniature, bonus points for looking like one of Gengi’s alt skins.

The Monsters

Gnolls Archfiends #52 Gnoll Archer and Blood War #46 Demonic Gnoll Priestess

Two great minis that show both ends of the gnoll spectrum. The wiry ranged scavenger in the Gnoll Archer and the melee muscled brute in the Demonic Gnoll.

Gnoll Archer is an early Hasbro D&D Miniatures Game figure with pretty simple but effective paint. There is enough detail in the scupt’s fur that a simple two level effect of brown atop black looks quite good for how basic the paint is. The model resolution is high enough that you can make out the individual buckles on the archer’s fairly stylized gear.

Demonic Gnoll Priestess is a serious business gnoll. This sculpt is legitimately intimidating. It is awesome in the old testament sense of the word. It’s a shame that it appears so briefly. The two gnolls using this mini basically get killed off immediately.

Going back to the Gnoll Archer quickly, this character has a series of ponytails running along their head and back. I had previously commented on miniatures in Episode 34 and 35 with very specific haircuts. I have jokingly begun to theorize that this ponytail plus shaved sides of head hairdo is a current hair trend in Tal'dorei canon. So I’m wondering if this gnoll is sporting the Xhorhas gnoll version. Check it out:

Closing Remarks and Predictions

I’m thinking we’ll see some more drow and the introduction of Pathfinder Battles series Red Mantis figures. And I would appreciate the reuse of some Demonic Gnoll Priestesses.

It feels like the campaign has taken a difficulty escalation turn. I fear for the character’s lives. Let us collectively beseech the Traveler for favorable rolls.

#criticalroleminiaturerollout

#criticalroleminiaturerollout #projectalpha #crspoilers #criticalrole #cr

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livironheart · 7 years ago

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Blue and Gold

“Well,” Archmage Dalton Underwood said as he surveyed the land before him from his mountain perch, “That’s a lot of sand.”

And indeed it was. The desert sand was scorching in the heat of the sun to any normal traveler, but the beige clothes that had been provided to the two mages had been enchanted with an invisible frost armor, something that kept them safe from the stifling heat.

Ahead of them stretched the desolate land of Silithus, clad in the same colors of white and tan and gray that it always had been - but now, there was a lot of red and black as well. In the distance, a massive sword stretched up into the sky, as if plunged there by some fallen god. It had pierced into the planet and caused a violent surge of energy across the world - and it was this that the Kirin Tor had recognized.

Olivier looked upon the blade with a sour expression. She hated the desert, and she hated that she had been called out for some investigation when there were other things she needed to focus on. “I know a place where we can stay,” she murmured. “I went through here not that long ago. There’s a little bunker… that way.” She pointed to her left, down the mountainside. “When are you planning on telling me what this is about? It’s not that confidential, is it?”

“Well, we’re not sleeping just yet,” her mentor reminded her, already channelling a teleportation spell. “And I prefer to show rather than tell.” Olivier grabbed onto his arm, and the two were whisked away. They reappeared several miles away from the sword’s entry point, and both paused to get their bearings.

The apprentice mage took her hand away, brow furrowing. “Why so far aw-”

“Get down.”

Olivier and Dalton didn’t waste a moment throwing themselves to the sand, their clothes offering an easy camouflage. The archmage lifted a hand, a spell shimmering over the both of them to render them invisible to all but each other. Liv’s heart thundered in her chest and she looked over to Dalton, her eyebrows raised.

“Listen,” he insisted urgently.

Olivier frowned, brushing some red hair away from her face as she followed the instruction. Several seconds passed with only the sound of their breathing and the sweeping wind across the desert. “I don’t hear anyth-”

“Wait.”

And there it was - the distant clang of metal against metal. There was another brief pause, then it started up again, incessant and harsh to the ears. It sounded like some sort of mine. It was coming from the far left, behind the outcropping of rocks that was concealing the two mages. They exchanged a glance, then both got to their feet, brushing sand off of their clothes.

“That,” Dalton muttered, “is the reason I called you out here.”

Olivier raised an eyebrow. “Miners?”

“More importantly, what they’re mining.” He began to skirt around the rocks, gesturing for her to follow. She was hesitant at first, then remembered that they were invisible. When they rounded the corner, Olivier stopped in her tracks, stifling a gasp.

Before them lay a massive deposit of what looked to be some kind of gem. It was a vibrant gradient of blue and gold, one that shimmered in the hot afternoon sun. It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing Olivier had ever seen.

However, surrounding the vein was a group of goblins, their olive green skin shining with sweat in the heat of the sun. It had already been a long day for them; their ears drooped, their voices were few and far between, and each resounding clang of the pickaxes against the ore grew fainter and fainter. A quick headcount revealed there was about five in this particular location - but as Olivier stepped forward, Dalton’s arm snapped out to hold her back. He shook his head, and his apprentice simply watched, her brow furrowed.

Eventually, the two backed up behind the outcropping again and sat down, leaning against the rocks as they waited for the sounds of work to fade. Liv’s signet ring sounded and she gave it an uncertain glance, then relayed the message to her mentor, who simply frowned and lowered his voice in reply. The wait took another hour or so, and by then, the sun had started to set, bringing a brilliant array of vibrant colors to the horizon. It was only then that the goblins packed up their things and left with the ore they had gathered, leaving behind only a few jagged pieces of the blue and gold stone.

Olivier’s boots crunched through the desert sand as she hurried along, having waited until the miners were long gone to come out. The invisibility spell had been dropped to conserve energy, so she was within plain sight of all. “I saw something like this the last time I was in Silithus,” she murmured, leaning down to pick up a piece. “I wonder what it-”

Suddenly, it hit her. The pure, raw power of what she held washed over her like a tidal wave, and threatened to sweep her away with it. Her lips parted with a soft gasp - and for a brief moment, it seemed like she saw the future.

Olivier stood alone in the jungle, clutching her staff tightly. A trail of footprints led away from Seastone Keep. She was several years older, though her hair retained its vibrant color through the dye she had added to it. Then, there was a flash as the vision fast forwarded.

There was a ship, eerily silent aside from the creaking of the mast and the wind against the sails. A thick cover of mist hung over the sea, masking all inhabitants of the vessel save for a single pair of red eyes that seemed to burn through the fog.

Then, there was fire. Brilliant flame of white and blue and orange and purple swept through her world, erasing everything - all the bad, every regret, every moment she wished she could take back. Everything was gone - and in its wake, new life began to sprout from the ashes. Bronze ribbons of magic swept around her feet - and soon, Olivier found herself standing in the Violet Citadel, looking out over the city of magic.

The world was at peace. Evil had finally been defeated, and now it was time for rest. The stars were bright and the city was glowing and the people were happy and-

“Olivier!”

It was Dalton’s voice that startled her out of the vision. Bright amber eyes blinked up at him as the desert surroundings returned. She still held the stone in her palm. “What is this?” she whispered. “It’s… unlike anything I’ve ever seen or touched. The power it holds, what it can do… it’s devastating. Destructive.”

The archmage nodded, cutting his gaze to the side. “This is why it cannot fall into the hands of either faction,” he murmured. “They shouldn’t know anything of this, or they will use it for their own gain.”

Olivier frowned. “They already know,” she pointed out. “You saw the goblins - and you know they’ll sell to anyone. And you heard the signets earlier - or what I told you. There has been a resource in Silithus found. What else could it be?”

Dalton shook his head. “For now, maintain discretion,” he cautioned. “I know you want to be loyal to the Alliance, but this should be kept a secret or the state of the world could be at stake.” His gaze wandered to the sword in the distance. “Perhaps… it already is. But, regardless… we’re not the only mages out here. We need to learn as much about this as possible - and we need to map the deposits we’ve found, and make sure they’re guarded. We’ll have people in both the Alliance and the Horde to figure out what the plan is if they do end up figuring it out. That’s why you’re out here - to do research, and to create maps. Are you sure you’re up to the task?”

Olivier glanced to the side where the sword in the distance stood as a massive silhouette against the vibrant dusk. A slight breeze kicked up a layer of sand and stirred her hair, prompting a shiver. She looked back to her mentor, offering a weak smile.

“Absolutely.”

#journal #stories #op #there should be a read more link on this #it's a long boi

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lorlyn-the-witch · 7 months ago

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#black desert mobile #black desert fairy #black desert archmage #fantasy #screenshot #edit #shitpost

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thegamemasterlovesyou · 7 years ago

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Myrgh’Or

So, after four years of world building, I’m publishing it, so you can use it, or suggest me anything. This is a constant work in progress, and reflects how I see it today. For my world, I have numerous sources of inspiration, including obvious ones like Terry Pratchett or John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, Homer, George Raymond Richard Martin’s work, or artworks like Skyrim, Tales of Symphonia, Dishonored, or other myths from Greek and Scandinavian mythology. It is not plagiarism, it is pastiche. Keep in mind English is not my mother tongue, and some grammatical mistake can and will appear.

I The World

Myrgh’Or is a continent, on a back of a giant Tarasque, the Terrasque. It turns around it self, giving nights and days, and revolves around a star, giving the years. Each year is divided in 12 months of 4 weeks each. Each week is divided in 5 days:

Dyddwaz

Kraendydd

Nordydd

Visdydd

DyddMor

Each days is named after a major divinity, which we give more detail in the next section.

Most of Myrgh’Or has a temperate climate. It gets warmer at the very south near the Great Mor’s Beak, and dry in the south-west in the Gado Desert. Temperatures can go very low near the Black Massif on the est, and Mount Caer Estae north-west. Except for the Gado Desert (which is due to a singularity in the Terrasque), the continent has green plains and large forests.

II The Mythology and Folklore

Before the age of the mortals, were the Thamerians, powerful magical creatures. They built an entire empire across the back of the Terrasque, leaving ruins and foundations of the major actual cities. Resourceful as they were, they built machines to help them in they everyday life, more and more sophisticated. At first, those machines were made out of metal, powered by energy cores (brilliantly called thamercores) but they improved their techniques and began making creatures made out of flesh and blood. But they were fragile and imperfect, as they didn’t last long, so the Thamerians, and especially one, called Vissaus, kept improving her creatures. Thus were created the humans, elves, and other task-specific creatures such as the dwarfs and the haffling. His dear friend and rival Kraenn thought they were too complicated for their purpose, and took inspiration to make the fauna, from the smallest fish to the greatest dragon, in order to help keeping the flora that had emerged from the back of the Terrasque, viable, and the fauna in a delicate balance. When any creature was broken (or dead) one of them: Mor, would take it away, giving it to Vissaus or Kraenn again.

Some tensions were built between the Thamerians, that eventually lead to war. Many Thamerians perished, and the survivors gave freedom, wisdom and knowledge to their creatures before leaving the continent. They were lead by Waz’kry, his brother Mor and his lieutenants Nordyr, Vissaus and Kraenn. They were eventually raised to the status of gods by the remaining population.

However, not every Thamerians were approving this liberation, and took revenge on this humiliation by attacking and tormenting the mortals. Nordyr help them, by giving them weapons to defend themselves against Naard’s assaults. When a more stable peace was achieved, they eventually went to the head of the Terrasque, minding their own business, while sometimes sending avatars to meet with the mortals, often from the creation of Kraenn, or Vissaus.

Waz’kry became the god of the gods, patron of justice. His avatar is a phoenix.

Mor became the god of death, and took the nickname “the Great Mor”, taking away deceased creatures when their time has come. His avatar is a pale humanoid that morphs into a crow.

Vissaus became the goddess of knowledge, arts and science. Her patron is also a humanoid, helping mortals solving problems.

Kraenn became the god of nature. His patron is a deer, guiding lost persons.

Nordyr became the god of war, travelers and merchants. His patron is a grey wolf.

Other Thamerians were also elevated to gods, among them: Tralunac, god of chaos, Naard, god of destructions, and other.

III History of the Mortals

Before leaving, some of the Thamerians left behind creatures of their own as a legacy, becoming Celestial beings and Tieffling, perceived as half-gods. Some of them, such as Hippolyte Waznal, son of Waz’kry, and his cousin Mornal were called to rule over the other mortals, making Waznal the emperor of Myrgh’Or, and starting the first era.

The calendar counts four eras so far. The first era starts at the foundation of the empire at its former capital city Vis Lyann ; and ends and year 317, during the revolt of the half-elves. As they were too human for elves and to elven for humans, they were segregated, until things went out of control. They founded the independent city of Skysod, on a low hill to the west of Vis Lyann, while the other mortals went south to the city of Val Magar, making it the new capital of Myrgh’Or.

The second era ends in year 553, by the end of the siege of Blüm, in the Gado Desert, that was independent city so far. In the same time, the half-elves of Skysod surrendered and accepted a peace trade with the empire. Those two cities would still have their own government, but be under the guardianship of Val Magar.

The third era ends in year 1072, when Theophrastus Mornal, son of the Great Mor, kills the last dragon, after almost 1500 years of crusade, to prove to his peers his valor and power. Some say that the dragon wrath first came from him, but it was this wrath again other mortals that lead Theophrastus on his killing spree.

The fourth and current era is now at 92 years of relative peace, even though about 50 years ago, the son of Theophrastus, Seth Mornal wanted to do as his father and began a cult to kill all lizardfolks (the Saurians) and Goblin. (He wanted to kill orcs as well, but they were to strong for him). He eventually got stopped quickly by the imperial armies, but many suffered from his insane crusade. This came from a long time racism from humanoids against other thinking creatures, especially from the Haffling toward the Saurians.

IV Geopolitics

IV-a Governments

The contient is divided in six regions, with their own capital. The first is the region of Val Magar, in the center of the continent, and heart of the empire. Up north, there is the region of Vis Lyann, city of the archmage and the paladins; west Vis Norgur, great harbor and gateway to Blüm; south-est Dallah Rom, important economic city, at the crossroad of the north and south; south Strâtos, city of the Grey Elves; and south-west Blüm, formerly independent. Skysod is in the region of Vis Lyann.

Each region has its own leader, its Thael, often chosen by the emperor, or first offspring of the last late Thael; except for Dallah Rom, were the Thael has been overthrown by the local bourgeoisie and installed an elected government.

Each Thael (or equivalent, looking at you Dallah Rom) has its own army, but has to respond to the Empire. However, any military title from the empire is treated one rank under when dealing with local army. For instance, a sergeant of the imperial army will be considered as a corporal in any other army. This is to prevent abuse of power between the imperial armies and the local armies.

Every town has their color scheme and symbol. Val Magar is a silver tower, with two swords crossing in the background. The tower represents the emperor’s tower. Vis Lyann is a golden tower, with a green shield in front. The tower is the former emperor’s tower, now the paladin’s academy and archmage’s tower. Vis Norgur is three bronze manatees in top of each other, on a blue background. Blüm is a golden kopesh, with red gems on the side on a bronze background. Dallah Rom is an ox with dagger for horns, in front of a green background. Stätos is an eagle-owl with a scroll in its claws, over a marine-blue background. And the Empire is a flaming phoenix, over a red and silver background.

IV-b Villages and other cites

Each city has its own local government, of a mayor, chosen by the Thael, and several councilmen or councilwomen, chosen by the mayor.

Folks of the same races tend to gather into communities, forming cites. Lymbôs, in the Vis Lyann region and in the Noras forest, is mainly populated by wood elves. Bald’huin, in the region of Dallah Rom, in the Black Massif, is mainly populated by dwarfs. Mortas, in the Mortas forest, in the region of Stâtos, is mainly populated by dark elves and night elves. They are lead by the Spider clan and the Raven clan. Hillfoot, on the south cost, in the region of Dallah Rom, is mainly populated by Hafflings. Illpit, on the west cost, in the Vis Norgur region, is mainly populated by Saurians.

Few smaller scalled cities are famously known for very specific things. For instance, Ompolinburgh produces the best horses of the continent. They have this knowledge from a nomad tribe of tattooed elves, that once had a settlement here, and leaved when other races came. The city of Hillfoot, where most of the Haffling live, are famous for their racist chocolate, the Saucolote, with a smiling saurian on the package, and their raciste pipe weed, the Sanabis. The village of Littleburgh is known for having only small sized dwellers, such as dwarfs, hafflings, or just small humans. And Thamerburgh is known for its ruins of thamerian civilization next to the border of the city.

V Miscellaneous facts

Raptor breeding is very prolific in the Elnias plains, on the west of the continent

Giants live in the south of the Black Massif, and it is bad luck to watch one in the eye. This doesn’t prevent people reproducing with them, making some curious hybrid.

The true half-elves (human-elf) are the only fertile hybrid of the Terrasque, all the other are sterile, but are still viable.

The closer you are from the elven race, the higher you are in the half-elf hierarchy.

The other son of Theophrastus, Garius Mornal, has accidentally woken up sleeping dragons that his father didn’t kill. They are now trying to regain strength

Tralunac is one of the only gods to actually interact with mortals, instead of using an avatar.

The cult of the Great Mor has significantly lost interest when his grand son tried to make a genocide. It has gotten a bit better since

Even if it is technically a mortal, the emperor hasn’t aged since the first era, making him the longest (and only) ruler of Myrgh’Or.

His cousin Mornal, and brother of Theophrastus, hand of the emperor, has been killed during the thrid era, and being replaced by Crowback, as the hand of the emperor. His name comes from the people of Val Magar, since everyone knows he ordered the assassination of Mornal, but no one can prove it.

Many guilds and organisations emerged from the society. Among them, the Silver Skull, an adventurer’s guild in Val Magar, lead by Garius Mornal, or the Black Feather, an assassin guild, lead by... also Garius Mornal. In Blüm, there is the Sand Dagger, an illegal guild, lead by Âhz-Ra, and all across the continent strikes the Alleged, who take care of problems they value worth the time.

Even if magic does exist, there is always a risk of becoming mad by using it, slowly corrupting the mind.

Some people are specialists in the making of special orbs, that come from the soul of any living being. The greater the soul is, the more powerful the orb will be. For instance, using an ox will strengthen the wielder, while using a orb from a Hag will boost the intelligence but also slowly corrupt the mind of the user, like using magic.

Many races, like orcs, goblins, or ogres, are nomads, and can be found anywhere on the continent. Even if they come from the same origin, they are mistrustful toward each other.

The personal guards of the emperor is constituted of Drakes that agreed to help him. For that, they have been banished from their clans.

[meta] The world is constantly evolving, as we are four DMs playing, using it as a canvas. Some cities appear, other are being destroyed. I have much more to say, but not all is relevant. Feel free to give me any feedback you seem useful, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Keep playing,

Jules, the game master that loves you.

#dnd #wolrd building #world setting #fantasy

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colpeia · 7 years ago

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I Forgave You

(( Continued from here. DISCLAIMER: Brief mention of violent themes. I have to admit this was intense for me to write. 7-8 years of playing this character have ultimately led up to this. So, fair warning, this will be an emotionally heavy read. ))

Blood and water. A bed of teeth.

No one came. She was gone. Something in her couldn’t accept that. In blind desperation, with a ragged, animalistic roar, Colpeia threw herself into one last illusion spell - which faded the moment it appeared. It looked predictable when she lost balance and slipped over the cliff’s muddy edge.

A tree root gave a sickening crack - she felt course textures scratching into her palm. Colpeia had latched on by some uncanny miracle.

Shuddering from the gore that now permanently stained her memory, the traumatized Tanari forced herself to peer over her shoulder, down at the river that fed into the ocean.

Tildalune’s jaw was agape as she stared up at Colpeia. Then her lime-green embers dimmed, rolled back, and closed. She went limp. Satisfied by its catch, the shark dipped its head into the red water, the young woman’s legs and long braid trailing behind.

She shifted forward to cast an empty gaze at the dirt of the cliff face. Her eyes were stale. Her skin was a pallid canvas of raised hairs. Another subtle crackle protested her weight.

There she hung, debating whether or not to climb back up.

Tildalune was dead. She had just helplessly witnessed a fellow Sin’dorei eaten alive like a common seal. Colpeia could live with the trauma of what she saw, knowing that her classmate might still be alive if she’d done something different. Or she could fall.

She decided to live.

About 20 years later

Coiling fog swelled her senses. None of her dedicated attempts to reach beyond the grave had been successful over the years, rare as solar eclipses were. The Fathom Moon had always left her behind in the living plane whenever she did try. It felt surreal to wrap her mind around the idea that she’d finally made it.

Suddenly Colpeia saw a flash of coral-red hair. Her eyes closed before she knew what happened. Someone’s lips were fiercely gripping hers. It tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

She smelled cherry perfume. A hand with nails as manicured as her own cupped her face, and a slender arm cradled her against a young feminine body in robes. Warm breath flowed over her face. It was shaky.

youtube

Colpeia wasn’t sure if the kiss lasted a few seconds or a few hours. They clicked apart. Tildalune’s radiant face drew away. Whatever air that was still in the Shafisian’s lungs went missing. The sweetness of her smile, her eyes, the moist gloss already forming over their pear-hued glow, weakened Colpeia’s knees until she had the sturdiness of jell. Her jaw quivered as she mustered a disbelieving breath.

“It’s... it’s really...”

“Yes, Colpeia. It’s me.”

It had been nearly two decades since Colpeia had known how melodic and light that voice sounded. As much as she wanted to relish it, they had less than five minutes. She stammered to find quick works, “I-I--... T...” Her face twisted in a soulful attempt to restrain tears. Hoarse sobs burst out of her instead, and she sank, forcing Tildalune to catch her into another embrace.

“I’m sorry...!” she gushed. “I’m so sorry, Tildalune. I’m so... I’m sorry... No day g--goes by w-with--” Another sob. “...Without--!”

A finger landed on her lips. “No,” Tildalune interrupted gently. “Stop.”

Colpeia went quiet.

She pinched her chin and lifted her face. Their eyes met. “No more.”

Astonishment reduced Colpeia to a blank gape. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

The spirit melted. “You’re sweet. I wish I had gotten to know you better when I was alive. But it’s not my forgiveness you should be looking for.”

A suspicion rang in Colpeia’s mind, but as it was no more than that, she kept it to herself. “What?”

The deceased pyromancer smirked. “It’s... preposterous.” Her attention floated, pensive. “You were that girl from Thin’sirel Academy whose name I knew began with a C. Then I died, gruesomely, and... your face haunted me. It still does. I could recount the very second that you became burdened, just by your look, before everything went black. I mean, of course my untimely and savage death disturbed me on untold levels, and I did blame you. At first. I felt terrible once I came to my senses; I knew you were blameless. Then some time passed, and eventually I was more distressed over how it affected you. This... acquaintance, who saw every raw detail and almost killed herself trying to rescue me. I realized what my death forced you to live with, and I...” She blinked mist from her eyes, grounding herself with a sigh before she continued.

“My after-death had trials. I dealt with friends, family, enemies, nevermind my dream of becoming an archmage -- felled by a damned overgrown fish. But when all that was done...” Tildalune trailed off again, her stare deepening. “All I knew was that in my death, there was a woman I hardly knew who grew attached to me. This troubled me, initially. Then I-- I watched you. I watched you grapple with the aftermath. I learned you weren’t a creep. You were compassionate and mortified. You blamed yourself. You started addressing your diary to me, trying to sort out your feelings as though you were speaking to me. I read it, by the way. I read every entry. I still do.

“I saw the dreams you had of me. Of going back in time, whisking me away from the shark’s maw, tending my wounds and showering me with-- with everything. It’s been so painful watching you go through this. I...” She shook her head, releasing a tearful huff of air. “I’m not sure what to call it. It’s not romantic, or simply platonic, but... Well I have no label for how I feel about you. All I cared about when I first died was that I had died, horribly and painfully and young. Now after overcoming everything else, all... all I... I just wanted you to get better.”

Colpeia trembled, pursing her lips.

“I just wanted you happy. You were less at peace with my death than I was. I watched you spend years unfairly believing that you could 'make up for it’ if you saved an insatiable number of people. So I did the only thing I could think of. Colpeia, I didn’t just forgive you a long time ago.” A gas planet couldn’t have bore more weight than Tildalune’s eyes. Then she gave her a small smile.

“I stood with you.”

The fog over the gray desert shifted to form a screen of itself, displaying a silent projection.

There was Colpeia, her eyes lifeless, huddled into a fetal ball on the floor. It was a few days after the incident. Tildalune’s ex-boyfriend bellowed at her with an accusatory finger. Colpeia’s younger sister was shouting defensively back at him. And there was a fainter, transparent Tildalune doing the same. He said something, and Tildalune’s eyes bugged out in rage. She swung her arm to slap him, but stumbled as she inconveniently remembered she was a ghost.

Colpeia shot a stunned glance at Tildalune before it shifted again.

She screamed and bolted up from her covers. Sweat glued her hair to her cheeks. Tildalune squatted onto the bed and reached out to hug her. The spirit sighed in annoyance when her arms slid unimpeded through her body.

Colpeia wept into her palm, hunched over on a couch with a therapist seated across from her. Tildalune sat at her side. Her ineffective hand touched her shoulder.

Huddled over a table, Colpeia scrawled over the first page of her new diary, addressing it to Tildalune. Tildalune leaned over her shoulder with an attentive peer.

Colpeia stood before a gathering of council members. She spoke to them with measured poise. It was here that she announced her intentions to pursue mathematics and Shafisian illusion instead of a traditional curriculum, and the first time she felt like she had a purpose. Tildalune’s hands were folded over her lap. She wore a soft, proud smile.

The Gazelle of the Desert sprinted with fevered determination across the shore, training herself to be the perfect “prey.” Tildalune ran beside her.

Pursued by a hyena somewhere inland, Colpeia spun around, cornered by a boulder. With a feral shriek she lobbed her blade at its neck. Tildalune positioned herself at the hyena’s side and lashed out desperate fireballs, forgetting they were harmless and unseen.

Colpeia stretched a slow eureka grin across her lips and took a step back. She stared up at the glowing equations hanging magically aloft. Tildalune stared at the proof in amazement and let out an excited cheer.

Blowing a sigh of relief, Colpeia turned away from the Silvermoon guard after her diplomatic gymnastics. As he marched away, Sayriha snapped her head up and quietly jeered something. Colpeia gawked at her. The insulted guard swished around looking ready to eat her for lunch, and the mage facepalmed. Tildalune held her ribs laughing.

Aranya snatched the last book from the shelf and dashed away with Colpeia from what was left of the forgotten Nightborne library. Tildalune ran behind seeming to shout, ‘Go! Go!’

She beamed up at Kurel before going in for a hug. Tildalune cupped her mouth a few feet from them. Her eyes were gleaming wet.

Surrounded by Shafise inside a spacious tent, Colpeia and Berominton grinned at each other across a table littered with food. Tildalune sat behind her with an amused smile.

The images faded. Though the moon’s desert returned, it was overcast by yet another mesmeric vision: the cliff's edge. The smell of pine needles, and the sound of trickling river water, flooded the once lifeless atmosphere.

This was exactly why Colpeia chose not to wear make-up. Her thickly freckled cheeks were drenched in tears. No breath she took was steady. She resembled someone who’d been struck by lightning after starving nearly to death.

She was speechless.

The corner of Tildalune’s mouth twitched a hesitant smile. “Colpeia, my core spirit hasn’t moved on yet. I need something from you.”

Colpeia’s eyes brightened through her paralyzed stupor. “Anything.”

There was a heavy stillness.

“...I can’t take any more of this!” She sank, weeping at the ground.

“Tildalune,” Colpeia murmured, reaching to cup her jaw. She stroked a tear away with her thumb.

After several moments, Tildalune calmed somewhat. She sniffled, “W-watching you throw yourself at people, in front of tigers and demons, just to redeem yourself for something that was never even your fault. Over and over again. Colpeia. I forgave you. I forgave you before I drew my last breath. --Forget that I blamed you afterwards because I was angry, okay? I was just angry. You did everything you could. If I can forgive you, why the FEL can’t you forgive yourself?!”

“...I--” Colpeia didn’t know how to finish.

“I love you.”

She froze again.

“I love you, Colpeia. I can’t move on until I know that you don’t blame yourself for my death anymore.” She pulled Colpeia back into an embrace, holding their foreheads together with a tender clasp of her temple. “P-please...” she whimpered. “Please just forgive yourself, Colpeia... Keep writing to me, okay? But don’t do this to yourself anymore. Please... please promise.”

Silver mist flooded around them.

With an urgent tilt, Colpeia pressed her lips against hers. “I promise,” she croaked, before breathing out again, “I promise, Tildalune. I love you. I’m sorry...”

Five minutes of a shimmering gold ring had come and gone.

Everyone returned in the same flash of light. Several of the Shafise and Wildhammers looked anywhere from dizzy to joyous to sorrowful to stunned. A few broke down an instant later. Tanari were embracing dwarves who embraced Tanari. One Wildhammer woman was sobbing into the shoulder of a human desert dweller, exclaiming that she had met her dead son after ten years. A Shafisian wore a bittersweet smile as they tightly held a Forsaken guest they'd only met that day.

Save the manic quakes in her arms and legs, Colpeia was still. Her lip was shuddering. Her eyes were soaked, red-rimmed, and practically shaking. She couldn't breathe.

Those tagged and/or part of the event: @aranyaphoenix @commander-dawnstriker @kurel-andiel @sayrihaamberstar @andijelly @ryderflynn @wolf-queen @alliesdelimma

#Tildalune #event #Ritual of the Crescent Sun #stories #The Shafise

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earelloxtiruvai · 7 years ago

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WRITER AESTHETICS - bold what applies to your muse

(repost, don’t reblog)

JOHN KEATS. the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD. mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favourite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction.

FRANZ KAFKA. the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books, delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head.

H.P. LOVECRAFT. the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never-ending ocean, the silence of three a.m., danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends.

JACK KEROUAC. the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive.

EDGAR ALLAN POE. the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret.

tagged by: @lady-proudmoore

Tagging: @ramblingsofamoonwatcher @archmage--khadgar @wyntragosa @anierous-sunblade and anyone else who feels like it!

#ooc #headcanon #lomear #istariel

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sinsofaconfessor · 4 years ago

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Security

Amid the darkness in the dead of night, Arie peak, dark shadows of pine trees swaying in chilling winds, cropped by brisk white snow. Even in the dead of summer this high up, snow remained. There, a home of wood and brick nestled at the higher part of the peak remained lit, three stories of wood and bridge, designed in more human theme than elf. Syred stood alone amid the snow, levitating through magic, words mulled in his mind over and over. “ I Hate it here.” He knew she meant something else, but he also knew that the spawnlings were stifled, and likely to become more and more restless without given more space. If anything, this was for them. A high setting to prevent any archery from having advantage, arrows would have to be shot upward and lose momentum to gravity, check. Dense woods for consistent cover, Pine trees for lack of a vantage inside them? Check. Snow for ease of audible and visual tracking, hard to hide in with the known assassins colors? Absolutely. Wolves howled in the night, causing the pale figures ears to quirk, thoughtful. He’d prepared for this for some time, a quick raid of his storage from a burned shop in Stormwind, a hidden vault and he’d been prepared. Shadows billowed around the snow, pure white coated in deep blackness. Tendrils breaking fresh powder as they’d begun drawing runes, etching them into the dirt beneath the snow, against rock, tree bark. Glowing runes with detailed inner workings, traps of magic. Arrows, they used Arrows and portals. They always worked in groups. They feared little he remembered, recalling the fight. They improvise and use other things, they’d used his candles against him, which means they had to never get another clear shot again. More shadowy decoys? No, they’d confuse the spawnlings and have them run into traps. The witnesses likely knew not to fire on the decoys any longer with how much he’d used them to distract them prior. Syreds thoughts ran through contingency after contingency, Plan A, through Z. Every tree present within several hundred yards became marked with Runes, all designed in new ways. Woods outside his home would become certain death for people above 4 feet tall. The ground was littered in Armor, dark, jagged and pointy. Cursed metal with new runes crafted on the inside. Magic primed to Animate the Armor when other trap runes were stepped on, turning the cursed metal into an automated murder machine powered by fel and arcane. Six sets of Armor designed and crafted to make any Archmage of Kirin Tor or anyone well studied proud. Short of Actual Golems, animated cursed armor lusting for blood was clearly a terrifying adversary. These were humans, Men, fragile in frame and yet they had stolen some of his inventions, his death charms. Gaining a Killing blow on any of them would be hard... unless.. No, A Mass Dispel stored in a rune would disable the other traps.

Tendrils spawned and dissipated, magic moving across the span of several hundred yards at the males whim, carving the runes he’d brought to thought, some runes crafted Portals, small traps that would suck up one poor victim and drop them into a distant desert. Divide and conquer, with fewer assassins, one could be pinned down, the charm removed from them and -then- slain. A mask..Slowly he’d levitated himself up to a hill, guiding magic tendrils to carve long lines and borders, a circle of runes around the house, masking it’s presence to those outside its influence, making this house appear to be little more than a small mountaintop of no true regard. An old protection, but still quite reliable.

The howl of wolves grew louder, the elf turned to look over his shoulder to find a pack of four very large, black furred wolves staring him down, watching him in the dead of night. Syreds hands fell behind his back, watching, waiting as the four began to circle him.When they closed in, shadows closed around the whole group. When it was over, one wolf lay dead in the snow, shadowy tendrils had broken its neck, the other three found magic weaved through their minds, their world, their perception altered. Their knowledge and understanding changed and altered. They knew only now Syred led their pack, that his home was theirs, that these woods were theirs to roam and protect and any unknown were to be hunted and slaughtered.

A minor touch...a personal one. Syred wouldn’t mind feeding three extra mouths, especially when it meant three extra pairs of eyes. Eyes that may not be suspected. They had spies? They wanted to play this game, Syred would -not- live in Squalor ( Or what he called squalor) For the sake of hiding.

The wolves wandered around the house, catching its scent, the woods around and back into the night in search of food, one less in their pack, but with four new additions.

Syred turned back to the unused home, unused aside from the 7 rooms inside the basement he’d fashioned for a hidden home. To most, Seven rooms may seemed extravagant. To Syred who had moved from 40 rooms, to 20, and now to 7? It was an outrageous downgrade. Slowly he approached the front door, knocking on the wood. An Elderly man answered the door. “ Oh, hello stranger! Me and my wife were just about to go to bed...Would you mind coming back tommorow?” A Dimissive wave from the pale males hand dispelled the shadowy magic, the Elderly man and his wife faded, dispelled from their life. Shadowy tendrils finding the runes on the Ceiling and drawing the magic from them, preventing them from returning for now. He’d made one walk through, looking over an unused childrens bedroom, two larger beds for two growing girls, toy chests, lights powered by magic slowly activated with Syreds entry. An upstairs hallway leading to a fairly empty study, master bedroom,dressers, clothes, supplies all designed for when the threat had been removed. He’d been planning for when they were all safe for some time, but hadn’t considered mortals needs for simple things, sunlight, open spaces. Perhaps he was just a little out of touch, though he’d never admit it. A bathroom with plumbing fuelled by magic for hot water and other comforts that Syred normally refused to do without.He’d found himself at the end of his inspection of the home in the study, pulling open a drawer and procuring four small pouches, all with tiny bone charms inside along with a large gold coin with a symbol carved within. Each tied with leather strings and bound tightly to prevent anything from being removed without effort. Then... He moved downstairs, finding the locked Cellar and opening the doors. “ Amarah, Ari..come here! I’ve got a....” He stared down at the satchels. “...I have....A...Gift for you both.” How hard it was for him to say it, how much he struggled with the verbiage. He hated struggling with things, but he’d get over it eventually. This wasn’t what Ceri meant when she said she’d hated this place. This is what he told himself. This was better for the spawnlings though. He’d add more security outside later.

#Wyelow #Ari #Amarah #Ceri

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paubari · 5 years ago

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Brother’s Requiem: Ode to Solidbone (PT. 2 of 2)

I stare at the dagger for a moment when a flame inside me started to burn with a bright light. I felt my body tense up as I saw this pleading man's eyes. I regained my breath as I was reached out for the dagger, gripping it tightly when I got it. It glinted in the moonlight, I realized he was right. I now realized this is the fuel that the Solidbone family has used for generations. This was the reason we are the shield, this feeling I don't know what to call it. I stood up slowly and I see myself glowing with a bright yellow light. My vision focused on the beast in front of me and as I raise my battered shield I pointed the dagger at it saying,

"I am the shield which stands between the innocent and those who wish to do them harm" I felt elated when I said this. I didn't plan it but it just slipped out. I rushed at the beast one last time but this time with a renewed purpose. I wasn't fighting for myself, I was fighting for the man in robes and the people within the hamlet. Everything else was a blur within combat but my movements felt fluid, it was as if it's the most limber I've been in a long time. In a series of slashing and blocking I was cutting down the beast till it was no longer moving. Breathing heavily I dropped the dagger and ran for the man in the robe.

"I must escort you to the barracks immediately, we can patch you up there," I told him lifting him slowly.

He puts his hand on my shoulders grasping it weakly and says "Please, it's too late for me"

I scoff at him "I don't recall stuttering sir"

He smiles weakly at me and closes his eyes. When we got to the barracks Captain Folleys patted me on the back and said "Well done Norman, you saved him. Any later and he would have fully succumbed to his wounds." It felt good, being able to save someone. I remember telling myself it's because I wasn't stronger was the reason my brother died. At least with this man I knew I was strong enough.

By morning I was sent as a personal guard and riding the carriage, I escorted the man back within the main city. He introduced himself along the ride there, he said his name was Earlbondt. As we entered the city gates I was mesmerized by the sights and sounds, I felt like I didn't want to leave. The hustle and bustle were loud but warming, I felt like I belonged there. Our ride stopped at the front of a large building made out of stone, it pointed up to the sky like a needle and had several banners adorned along its walls. The main door suddenly opens and out came another man dressed in robes but the ones he wore looked less serious. He looked peculiar since he was taller and had pointed ears. He greeted us on and called Earlbondt "Grand Archmage" My mouth hung agape at what I heard, this time I stuttered. "What were you doing out in the woods alone sire?" I asked him, fumbling over my words. The other man whom I came to know as Archmage Eower answered my query, told me that it was a quest from an organization within the city who specialize in giving out quests for adventurers. The Grand Archmage wasn't an adventurer but he was compelled to check it and was caught off guard. His glowing yellow eyes stared at me for a moment before asking me

"Do you want to become stronger, Norman?"

I was caught aback at what he said. "You possess a talent, a gift. You have something within you I cannot point out but your spirit burns bright. With the right tutelage, you can become so much more." He told me. Archmage Eower nods at me, coercing me to accept. "Of course the decision is entirely yours, I cannot make you accept something you don't want to do."

I look back at the gates of the city, outside there in the small hamlet I can drink away everything again. It will all go back to normal and I can forget the world existing once more but, this is what I have been waiting for. This was the opportunity to strafe from tradition and carve the name Solidbone in a different stroke. Our oath stands but our loyalty to the state breaks now, with my decision being the last living Solidbone. I won't become stronger so I can protect wealthy men who stuff themselves full while able-bodied men died on the frontlines. I will become stronger to protect the people, the people who cannot defend themselves from these corrupt politicians. I nod at Earlbodnt accepting his offer. From this day forth I studied the ways of magic mixed with my weapons mastery. Through the help of Grand Archmage Earlbondt, I was able to cast spells that can abjure a foe to ruin and evocate them into surrendering. The Military deemed me a deserter but I didn't care. My bloodline will no longer be pawns to their brutish games. After I have succeeded my final training Grand Archmage deemed me an Eldritch Knight. I went to the organization within the city which caters to adventurers and signed up. I went on multiple quests fighting beasts small and large. I helped civilians get back their homes and assisted people with their travels. Along my journeys, I have met countless people, colorful characters who would accompany me on quests. Every one of us was helping the world become a better place with one finished task at a time. With every end of a quest, I would stare up at the night sky and thank my family for guiding me. I would thank my ancestors, mother, father, and Josiah for helping me make the world a better place than it was yesterday.

Until one night after a successful journey, I was going to celebrate at one of the local taverns when I felt a chill run through my spine. I started to look around, scanning the faces of the passers-by seeing if any had ill intentions plastered on their faces. I clutch my sword handle tightly as I continued walking. Another chill runs down my spine and I spin around immediately. I saw a figure dart into one of the alleyways so I run after it. Unsheathing my longsword I ut it close to my face and I whisper a few words to it before the blade ignited, coating itself in a blue flame. I use the flame from my longsword as light raising it above me to see further. I walked for about a few seconds before I see a figure in front of me. With the dim light, I can scarce see a thing but I can make out his armor. He wore black armor almost obsidian in color making him blend in with the darkness, he had a mace sheathed on his right side and his left arm had a shield with the symbol of what I assumed was the god of death. On his chest rest a pendant with the symbol also of the god of death. His hair was snowy white, almost silver shining on top of his otherwise black armor. His right eye was normal but his left eye was rotting as if it was flayed, it had no eyelid and the whole eye was glowing a sickly yellow color. I would have attacked the fool then and there if I hadn't recognized his face. That hair, that chin, that smile. I couldn't believe it, I dropped my weapon and fell to my knees. This is a trick, someone has cast a spell on me and is trying to confuse me. My gaze was fixated on the figure, I blink a few times as my mouth hung agape all the while. A silent moment passes before he speaks,

"Hello, Brother"

(end of part 2)

Read the rest on my Wattpad!

#short stories #shortstories #short story #action #adventure #rpg #swords #fighting #dungeons and dragons #magic #forgotten realms #medival #wattpad

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