#c: valas telenna

[magicrobins]

Some of my D&D/RPG OCs as John Mulaney gifs/pics ‘cause why not part 3

Found under the cut.

Valas Telenna:

Aerial:

Lemia:

Davan Faerynna:

[magicrobins]

please 13 for the dnd asks!!

I’m so sorry this took so long! Honestly idk why it took so long…

13. Introduce your current party.

Considering this was asked before the Eberron campaign was even planned and also the Eberron campaign hasn’t started yet, I’ll go with the Second Breakfast Club gang! Ngl my descriptions of these characters might be bias based on how my own character sees them.

So let me start with my character: I play the drow rogue, Valas Telenna. He’s nonbinary, pansexual/panromantic, and polyamorous. He has roughly one-hundred years of angsty af backstory ‘cause I’m a piece of shit like that lmao. He’s also a piece of shit. He’s a chaotic neutral assassin who has good tendencies, though he won’t admit it. The good tendencies mostly come from the influence of the previous party he was a part of, as well as his childhood best friend and lover. He’s reckless, suicidal and often depressed. He struggles with self-harm and low self worth. Despite that he’s also cocky and vain af. He’s good looking and he knows it. He’s also extremely protective of those he cares about even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve to have those people in his life.

Now onto the rest of the party!

Firstly, Rihiri Valtari, played by @jellyfishlovesloki. Rihiri is a fucking goddess. My sis and I have discussed it and we’re pretty sure Rihiri’s the heart of the party atm. She’s a tiefling druid and currently in a friends with benefits relationship with Valas - She was probs the first he’s allowed in the party to call him Val without getting pissy at them. But like I said she’s a fucking goddess and she’s so kind but she’ll fucking cut you with her scythe in a heartbeat if you hurt someone she cares about or threatens them. Val finds her immensely attractive, obvs, but also as a shoulder to cry on when needed. He didn’t want to form a friendship with her (he doesn’t want to form attachments in general ‘cause angst and he’s a shit), but now after roughly a little over a year of knowing her, he can’t imagine his life without her. She travels with a sunbear (I had to google it to make sure I had the right bear) named Paz who loves honey. She’s also very good at throwing halflings.

Speaking of halflings: Bilbo Swaggins, played by @theoneandonlyfloozyjesus (tUMBLR WON’T LET ME @ YOU WHY). They’re�� they’re quite interesting. They’re a halfling rogue - I believe an arcane trickster? I don’t really know anything about their backstory except they met Rihiri in a bar fight. Valas doesn’t know much about them either, which bugs him and makes him more inclined not to trust them. Though he had no real problem with Bilbo until Bilbo sTABBED him (and not in a fun way -wink wink nudge nudge- … -coughs- anyways). Bilbo’s also good at being thrown but not at landing lmao. They’re never gonna live that face plant down lmao. But yeah they’re quite the mystery. Val’s gonna kill me for admitting this but the fact that he knows jack shit about Bilbo actually really intrigues him and there’s moments when he finds that attractive but then Bilbo opens their mouth or gets drunk off their ass and the moment quickly fades lmaooooo.

Speaking of people Val is attracted to (the list is long): Zeager Steelheart, played by @nutellanewt. When I think of how quickly Val has fell for him, I like to think of him as Zaegar StealYourHeart. Y’get it? Lame joke but it forever makes me laugh. Zaegar is a shirtless half-orc monk. He’ll say he’s not attractive but Val very much begs to differ. He’s very kind, though I don’t know much about his backstory and him as a character. Valas doesn’t know much about him either and that bugs him but he’s afraid to ask, to get to know him better. He’s afraid to grow closer to him like he’s done with Rihiri because he swore to himself he wouldn’t get close to anyone again after some events in his past but oops he fucked up and grew close to Rihiri, he doesn’t want to fuck up again but gdi boy get some. -coughs- Imeanwut. Zaegar’s also like the king of flexing. It’s a guaranteed way to distract Val that isn’t used as often as it should be when Val’s about to make a bad decision. Zaegar and Rihiri are also basically the voices of reason or diplomacy in the group.

Then there’s Sefhana Brenlynn, a half-elf ranger played by my sis, @bxtgrl. While Zaegar and Rihiri are being diplomatic, Sef and Val are sassing the shit out of people, especially each other. Val doesn’t like her. She doesn’t like Val. It’s a mutual dislike. She’s become quite close to Rihiri (I ship it. I already multiship this fucking party guys send help I’m multishipping trash over here - as in the trash is me, not the ships or characters lmao). She travels with a white wolf named Echo that I’m surprised she doesn’t send to maul Val. I know Sefhana’s backstory only ‘cause I’ve read it, but Valas doesn’t know it. Again, he’s not inclined to trust people he knows hardly anything about but they’re breaking down his walls (I mean they also know jack shit about Val sooo -shrugs). He does trust Sefhana not to murder him in his sleep… At least while Rihiri’s around. Sefhana’s also badass. She killed a giant spider with her bow and arrows. She’s also an archer. So like instant brownie points there ‘cause I love archers ok. I don’t think she and Val will ever truly get along but I do hope they can come to some kind of mutual understanding of each other someday.

Onto the newest members of the party! (Both of these players don’t have tumblrs to @ that I’m aware of.)

Thursdorious Lightningborn (I hope I got that name right) is a dragonborn druid. I know… nothing about him? He owns a fat liger. I think he grew up with Rihiri. They seem like close friends which does spike some jealousy in Val because he wishes he could be that close to Rihiri without worrying about hurting her. Val also doesn’t like him strictly because he shoved Val off Rihiri’s lap. That was his first impression of Thursdorious and he hasn’t forgotten it. Val’s also not sure if Thursdorious is the sharpest tool in the shed, but Val’s a judgy shit sooo -shrugs-. Yeah I don’t know much about Thursdorious. He’s new to the party and while I hope he stays, Val doesn’t lmao. Sorry about Val.

Vox Forzare, the gnome wizard (please tell me I remembered that right. It’s late, I’m tired) played by the newest member of our campaign! He likes to light shit on fire lmao. I don’t know much about him because he’s fairly new. Val doesn’t know anything ‘cause they haven’t officially met but they’re not gonna like each other. Vox’s first impression of Val was when Val was under a wizard’s control and forced to attack his fellow party members only Vox doesn’t know Val was under a spell. I’m sure they’ll eventually become friends, but idk how long that might take. Definitely sooner than Sef and Val lmao.

[magicrobins]

Valas: Haven't we all killed a lot of people at some point?

Zintra: Says the former assassin for hire.

Valas: Who says I'm formerly for hire? You can buy my ass anytime.

Zintra:

Valas:

Valas: For assassinating people...

Zintra: Suuuure.

[magicrobins]

Aesthetic Builder ▸ Dungeons & Dragons OCs

↳ The Second Breakfast Club

[magicrobins]

You should do the dnd asks for val 0; i vote do all of them LMAO JUST DO IT FRIEND

Mother of God…

21 Asks for D&D Characters (and OCs)

1. What influenced or inspired the creation of this character?

Lmao nothing too deep actually. I love the drow. I wanted a drow character, thus Valas was born! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

2. What is your character’s relationship with their family? Family is a word which here refers to biological relatives, close companions, and/or the individual(s) who raised them.

Biological family: Terrible. Valas’ mother and siblings were extremely abusive to him - physically, mentally, and emotionally. He despises them, fears them, yet also still cares about them. He ran away from them for a reason, though.

Close companions: For the sake of this, I’m going to just focus on Valas’ companions from his backstory (y’all can watch the episodes of The Second Breakfast Club to see his relationships with those companions ;D -nudge nudge wink wink-). In his hundred years of life, there were few individuals he grew actually close to, the first being a fellow drow named Miz’ri T’sath. The others were the first party he joined, consisting of Zintra Rastor, Hai Li, Meiros Vanhorn, Elizira Vanhorn, Dominic Crawford, and Eve Crawford. They all became like family to him, including Dominc & Eve’s extended family - Dominic’s wife, Amelia, and their daughter, Evanora. Being with that party gave him the first sense of what a family perhaps should have been like.

3. Who is the closest person to them?

Valas always becomes closest to his lovers - Miz’ri, Hai, and Meiros in his backstory. Out of those three, he was the closest to Miz’ri, whom he grew up with and knew for many many years. At the moment, out of the current party he’s with, he’s the closest to Rihiri - who belongs to @jellyfishlovesloki​, having started to open up to her after entering a friends with benfits relationship with her. I believe he’s opened up a little bit about his backstory to her, mentioning the previous party and his previous lovers, Meiros and Hai - possibly mentioning Miz’ri, not quite sure yet.

4. What were the conditions surrounding their formative years?

Terrible. Valas grew up in a hostile, abusive home. Even his father, who he thought genuinely loved him, emotionally and mentally manipulated and abused him.

5. What creature would they like to have as a pet?

He actually has a pet! She’s a large, cat-sized black spider named Spite.

6. Do they have any bad habits?

It’d be easier to say which bad habits he doesn’t have lmao! I mean honestly it’s a very large list so I won’t include everything. He self-harms, he closes himself off emotionally from others when hurting (unless it’s one of the times he just like shatters, in which case he can’t stop crying), he closes himself off from grief, he blames himself for anyone he’s ever hurt that he’s cared about - even if it wasn’t his fault. Aaaaand a lot more shit.

7. Is there anyone they’d die for? Kill for?

Absolutely! He’d die for and kill for the same people, let’s be honest. And as much as he’d deny it, it’s not a short list. There’s Miz’ri, Meiros, Hai, Zintra, Elizira, Dominic, Eve, Amelia, Evanora, Rihiri, and Zaegar - who belongs to @nutellanewt​. Eventually, as we get farther into the campaign, he could feel this way about other current party members or NPCs.

8. Who was their first love?

Miz’ri, who to elaborate is a drow warlock and Valas’ childhood friends. I love her so much and their relationship so much. It’s the kind of love that can always be rekindled whenever they see each other again and just, ugh that just gives me all the happy feels. (♥ω♥ ) ~♪

9. How would this character react to someone confessing their love for them?

Depends on who for like whether or not he’d be surprised or just like “wtf.” But genuinely nowadays, he’d be surprised. He wouldn’t admit if he feels the same way. He’d insist that the person deserves better than him, that he’s not a good person, etc. In his experience, he feels he just brings those he loves pain.

10. How old is this character?

Currently he’s one-hundred and one years old!

11. Are they normally peaceful or aggressive?

Aggressive as fuuuuuuuck. Growing up in the drow society, he’s learned to just default as hostile.

12. How does this character handle stress?

Not well. He likes to think he’s good at hiding it, but too much anxiety and it shows. Under too much stress and he just goes into fight or flight.

13. Does your character consider themselves lucky?

Nope. With all he’s been through, he’d say he’s quite unlucky.

14. What is their favorite holiday?

He doesn’t really care for holidays?

15. What is the best gift they could receive?

LOVE, PATIENCE, AND UNDERSTANDING. He just needs people to love him, be patient with him, and understand the pain he goes through practically on a daily basis.

16. If they could instantly kill one person in the world without consequence, who would it be?

Himself.

17. If they were in possession of a trio of wishes, what would their three wishes be?

He would wish for Dominic, Eve, and his father to have never died.

18. What is their favorite spell or method of attack?

He doesn’t have spells. He’s a rogue assassin. His favorite honestly goes back to the previous party he was in. He would run toward Zintra, and jump onto her shield, where she would use her strength to push him up and propel him into the battle with his daggers drawn.

19. What are their guilty pleasures?

Cuddling Rihiri or lying on Zaegar’s back as he does push-ups. Don’t judge him.

20. What is something this character is or could be addicted to?

From my personal experience, self harming can be a form of addiction. I’d say he’s quite addicted to that. Possibly sex too, but idk about that for sure.

21. Have you actually played this character yet?

Yep! I’ve played him in every D&D session I’ve been in so far.

[magicrobins]

the second breakfast club rpg + aesthetic || valas alton telenna / drow rogue

He felt the cold sensation wash over him. His body suddenly wasn’t listening to him. He wanted to throw his dagger but his hand wouldn’t even lift it. His heart dropped into fear’s hand, its fingers wrapping around his heart, its claws sinking in. No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening again. He recognized this cold sensation. What had followed it continued to haunt him.

All he could do was think - his body was no longer his. And all his thoughts were just a plead, a cry, a scream out to whoever would listen. Please don’t let me kill them.

[aes] [tag]

[magicrobins]

Galen and val d;

Character Writing Meme

Galen Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition) [x]

Gentle Hands: He doesn’t like hurting others, but he will to defend himself or his loved ones. He’s more of a healer than a fighter. He’s practically incapable of physically hurting someone he cares about - he handles them with so much care, always a gentle touch. Violence is often his last resort. Usually he goes for diplomacy, even when he’s in danger. He’s quicker to act if it’s in defense of someone he cares about than himself. He doesn’t like bloodshed, and thus prefers to heal or talk than strike a foe down.

Underestimated: Because of his soft nature and the fact that fighting is usually a last resort for him, he’s often underestimated - even by himself. He’s just as skilled of a fighter with his magic as Aya is with her daggers, but he sees himself as weaker - physically, mentally, and emotionally. He’ll often be targeted on the battlefield, seen as the weak link. However enemies that attack him are often proved wrong. It’s typically those close to him - family and those within the inner circle - that are some of the few that don’t underestimate him, though some of them might have in the beginning.

Silent Suffering: He suffers from a severe depression and the events of Inquisition don’t help with that at all. Though it is usually obviously when he’s feeling down, upset, or is just plain suffering, he often keeps quiet about it, secluding himself or reluctantly accepting company but rarely speaking. He doesn’t like talking about his negative thoughts and feelings because, to him, voicing them feels like it’ll make them even more real.

Hardened Steel: This is specifically post-Trespasser. He’s become hardened, broken by the events of Trespasser - Solas’ betrayal and the disbanding of the Inquisition. All of that was far too much for him to handle in the time span that it happened, right after the other. It was similar to a system overload for him. He shattered and when he tried to heal, tried to get better, the broken edges of glass became sharpened, razor blades. He felt weaker than he had before and decided he never wanted to feel that way again. Now he’s not afraid to do what he feels he has to - though still only to those he believes deserves it. He’s tired of hurting, of being hurt, even by his own thoughts.

Atlas: He’s very similar to Atlas, in my opinion. He holds so much weight on his shoulders. He was never prepared for the weight the Inquisition would bring, for the toll it would take because he never in his life would have thought he would be leading basically a revolution at his sister’s side. It’s a weight that will always linger with him, always slow his movements, his mind.

There’s more for Galen but I didn’t want to write anymore than five, sorry. :P

Valas Telenna (Dungeons & Dragons) [x]

The Reluctant Hero: He doesn’t want to be anyone’s hero - he’s chaotic neutral for a reason. He doesn’t even want to save himself. But when lives are on the line, though he’ll claim to not care, he’ll do what’s in his power to protect them - especially if they’re the lives of his loved ones. He’ll begrudgingly save the day, hoping he’ll get paid for his efforts. He’s not a hero with a heart of gold, but he does try. He’ll deny that he even tries, but damn, does he try.

Vain on the Surface: He knows he’s hot, sexy and will often say it and make sure others know too. He loves wearing revealing clothing, showing as much skin as he can. The scars and cuts from the abuse he suffered and the blades of his own daggers don’t bother him, though he’ll often choose clothing that at least makes them harder to notice, not wanting pity. However his love for himself stops at the surface, at his appearance. He despises his personality and everything else about himself aside from how he looks. He’s self-deprecating, but hides it with jokes or a fake cocky ego.

Ice Shield: He separates himself from his emotions, including happiness at times, with a layer of ice that he’s not afraid to drip off his tongue. He’s not afraid to come off as ice cold or be accused of not caring, not having a heart. He has that layer of ice between his mind and his heart, after all. Because feelings and emotions can hurt, and he’s tired of hurting. He wants to be the one causing the pain instead.

Survivor: This doesn’t refer to the battles he’s survived or the fact that he died once and came back. This is because he’s a survivor. He’s survived abuse all his life at the hands of his parents and siblings. He’s survived his struggle with self-harm - a struggle he still battles to this day. In a sense, his trauma is etched into him, into the way he thinks, the things he does, but in the way he holds his head up high, in the way he’ll stand up for those being abused, you can see it - you can see the word enough course through his veins and see the survivor he is.

Death Wish: There’s only a few times when he wanted desperately to live, to never face death. The moments he spent with Meiros and Hai, the moments he spends with Rihiri, drowning in love and adoration, he doesn’t want to die - he doesn’t want to ever cause them grief, he wants to live for their sake and the sake of continuing to feel their love. But he fights as if he has a death wish. He isn’t afraid to charge into battle, to come between a friend and a slashing sword. He wanted to die after the death of his father. He wanted to die during the abuse his mother and siblings threw at him. After the deaths of Dominic and Eve, after being resurrected, he wants to die again. He’s wanted to die to stop the pain, and he’s wanted to die because he feels he deserves it. Now he wants to die because he believes he deserves it and it’s the only way he knows to atone for the hand he played in his friends’ deaths. It’s the only way he knows to avenge them.

A majority of this can also apply to the version of Val I have for my books. ^^

[magicrobins]

Police officer for all

SEX+ROMANCE HEADCANONS!

👮 Has my muse ever had sex in public?

Answering with some of my fav D&D and RP characters. ❤ Also I’m guessing this just means in a public place and not like in front of random ass people?

Galen Lavellan (DAI): No and he wouldn’t want to.

Derek Hawke (DA2): Honestly? Probably.

Piras Surana (DAO): [looks at Piras. looks at Zevran] Without a shadow of a doubt, yes.

Halin Andras (DAA): I don’t think so and I don’t think he’d want to.

Duncan Shepard (ME): I’m not entirely sure. If he got drunk enough, he might have.

Julian Ryder (MEA): No and he wouldn’t really want to.

Apollo Kennedy (Fallout 4): He hasn’t but he wouldn’t mind trying it.

Damien Glass (Dresden Files TTRPG): Definitely not and he probably wouldn’t want to unless like his partner insured him they’d be safe from people walking in on them. He doesn’t mind a heavy makeout session in a public place but he wouldn’t feel safe to have sex anywhere public.

Valas Telenna (D&D PC): I have no doubt that he has and he’ll do it again.

Godaey Jabil (SWTOR): I mean… wasn’t technically the first time with Theron in a shuttle or something like that? So long as there was privacy and he feels safe, he wouldn’t mind doing that again.

Kyle Hertz (SWTOR): Probably but I’m not 100% sure. Does his ship count as a public space? ‘Cause he’s not the only one on the ship? Does the Gravestone count?

Benjamin Klein (SWTOR): No and he wouldn’t want to. He wouldn’t feel safe no matter what due to past trauma.

Adara Bray (SWTOR): No but she probably wouldn’t mind trying.

Vevro (SWTOR): Considering he just smirked in my head I’m gonna say yes.

Maz’tohum (SWTOR): No. He’d prefer not to try either much to Vevro’s disappointment.

Abram Walker (SWTOR): No and he’d probably not want to but I’m not 100% sure about that part.

Dival Jabil (SWTOR): [looks at Dival. looks at Kaliyo] Most definitely.

Ebony Lyfeld (WTNC): No but they wouldn’t mind trying so long as they feels safe and, well, their partners are good at making them feel safe.

Ace Lazzari (D&D NPC): No and he wouldn’t want to. He’s too awkward, it’d make him very uncomfortable.

Aerial (D&D NPC): No but he’d be willing to try.

Nitar (D&D NPC): He prefers not to but considering the “don’t you fucking say it” deathglare he’s giving me, I’m guessing he has before.

Davan Faerynna (D&D NPC): Without a shadow of a doubt, he totes has.

Pax (D&D NPC): Maybe. I’m not entirely sure. He’d definitely be willing to try if his partner asked him to but he wouldn’t think to suggest it himself.

[magicrobins]

Candy for all

SEX+ROMANCE HEADCANONS!

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?

Answering with some of my fave D&D or RP characters. More under the cut ‘cause there’s a lot. 😂❤

Note: Majority of my characters are switches but some have preferences for sub or dom.

Galen Lavellan (Dragon Age: Inquisition): Switch but more often leans toward sub.

Derek Hawke (Dragon Age II): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Piras Surana (Dragon Age: Origins): Switch but often leans more toward sub.

Halin Andras (Dragon Age: Awakening DLC): Sub.

Duncan Shepard (Mass Effect Trilogy): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Julian Ryder (Mass Effect Andromeda): Sub.

Damien Glass (Dresden Files TTRPG): Switch, can lean more toward sub or dom depending on the partner he’s with.

Valas Telenna (D&D player character): Switch but often leans heavily toward sub.

Godaey Jabil (SWTOR): Sub.

Kyle Hertz (SWTOR): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Benjamin Klein (SWTOR): Switch, leans more toward sub.

Adara Bray (SWTOR): Switch, might lean more toward sub.

Abram Walker (SWTOR): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Dival Jabil (SWTOR): Switch, leans more toward dom.

Vevro (SWTOR): Dom.

Maz’tohum (SWTOR): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Ebony Lyfeld (WTNC): Sub.

Apollo Kennedy (Fallout 4): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Ace Lazzari (D&D NPC): He isn’t quite sure but he’d probs lean more toward sub, if not 100% sub.

Aerial (D&D NPC): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Nitar (D&D NPC): Switch, doesn’t lean any specific way.

Davan Faerynna (D&D NPC): Switch, leans more toward dom.

[magicrobins]

The Toy Dragon

Valas Telenna & various others [see below]. Dungeons & Dragons [Band of Misfits]. 4,272 words. More under the cut. AO3.

Summary: Valas’ past and present collide.

Other characters: Meiros Vanhorn, Zintra Rastor, Dominic Crawford, Eve Crawford, Evanora Crawford, Elizira Vanhorn, Hai Li, Rihiri Valtari (@jellyfishlovesloki), Zaegar Steelheart (@nutellanewt), Sefhana Brenlynn (@bxtgrl), & Bilbo Swaggins (@theoneandonlyfloozyjesus).

Note: Set in a world created by our wonderful DM (@iodine-kisses).

His ears were ringing. Valas turned on Dominic, annoyed by the young man’s proud grin. His friend’s wavy dark hair had been put up in a bun – the fact that the bard had taken the time to tie his hair up during a fight was irritating in itself. Meiros was already at Valas’ side, searching the drow for injuries to heal.

“Next time you blast a dragon off of me, how about you warn me to cover my ears?!” from the way that Dominic laughed and Meiros winced, Valas guessed he was yelling. It took Meiros a few minutes to get his ears to stop ringing.

In the meantime, Dominic was looking down at the carcass of a dragon and still grinning widely. “I killed that.”

His twin sister, Eve, rolled her eyes. “We helped.”

“But I landed the killing blow!” he countered, causing his sister to roll her eyes again. “I can’t wait to go home and tell my daughter her daddy’s a dragon slayer!”

“Baby dragon.”

All party members looked to Hai, who was the next to get Meiros’ attention, though he often fought from a distance and thus avoided most harm. The sorcerer’s familiar, a raven named Obsidian, sat for once quietly on his shoulder.

Dominic’s grin was starting to fade. “What?”

“You killed a baby dragon,” Hai stated matter-of-factly, nodding toward the carcass.

Dominic didn’t look all that proud anymore. “Well – well you guys helped kill it!”

Eve put on her best sympathetic sister act and clapped Dominic on the shoulder. “But brother, you landed the killing blow.”

“You’re the great dragon slayer!” Elizira chimed in, exchanging a grin with Zintra, who shook her head.

Valas thought Dominic looked like he would cry.

“I didn’t want to kill a baby!”

“It did attack me,” Valas pointed out. He felt Hai sling an arm around his shoulders – the sorcerer’s other arm rested across Meiros’ shoulders. It was an affectionate attempt to keep both men near him, though it also prevented Meiros from walking over and healing the other members of their party.

“Well we couldn’t have that,” Elizira teased and chuckled at the unimpressed look Valas shot her.

Zintra picked up her shield, slinging it onto her back, signaling that it was time for their group to continue farther into the cave. After all, they had a serial murderer to hunt. As she passed Dominic, she patted him on his arm, ���Don’t worry. We’ll tell your daughter you slayed an evil adult dragon.”

No, no, no. This couldn’t have been happening. Not again. Not again.

Valas’ hands shook, covered in blood – in her blood, in his blood.

Just a few feet away, her body lay lifeless. She was looking in his direction, arm outstretched as if to beg him to stop, lips parted in a silent plead to spare her brother. Her eyes were wide with shock and tears stained her cheeks, marking her with the heartache, the pain of betrayal. But her eyes were also dim, lifeless. The midsection of the dress the alchemist wore, once a beautiful shade of green, was darkened and soaked with crimson. He could see where the blade had pierced her from behind all the way through to stick out the other end. Perhaps if the blade had been left in, she would have had more time. More time to struggle to live. More time to helplessly watch her brother die.

Just a few feet away, Eve stared lifelessly at him, lips parted as if to ask why he knelt over her brother’s dying body.

Underneath him, Dominic was dying. He was dying fast, the blade having pierced his heart from the front. The blade was still in him. That blade – Valas’ blade.

Valas’ hands shook as he removed the blade. Leaving it in wouldn’t have made a difference. The others were too far away. Meiros was too far away. He wouldn’t get there in time to heal Dominic. None of the others even knew what was happening. None of them knew of the danger. None of them knew about the death and the dying.

He frantically took his cloak off and bunched it together, pressing it against the wound. Dominic whimpered against the pain. Valas felt his heart tear. Tears were in the corners of Dominic’s eyes – some escaped. Valas didn’t even register that he, himself, was crying too. He didn’t register that he was practically sobbing.

Not again.

For a split second, he didn’t see Dominic underneath him. He saw an older man – a drow with short silver hair, not quite white. He saw his hands around the hilt of a dagger. The drow reached up, touching his cheek with bloody fingers. He felt his mother’s presence behind him, looming over him. He saw the disgust on his father’s face beneath him.

“I should have killed you. You should be dead.”

And suddenly it wasn’t his father but Dominic underneath him. Dominic, staring up at him with sad eyes, but still with that caring look of a young father, of a friend, watching someone break. Dominic reached up, his arm shaking with the effort, his fingers and hand bloody from trying to hold his own wound and stop the bleeding he knew in his heart wouldn’t stop.

He weakly cupped his hand against Valas’ tearstained cheek. Valas’ eyes snapped from the wound to him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Dominic managed to get out, his voice quiet, weak. Each word was a struggle, but he looked determined not to die and leave them unsaid. “It’s not… your fault.”

Valas became aware of his own sobbing. “I’m so sorry.”

Dominic tried to shake his head but didn’t have the strength to. “Now you’re fond of me.” He put on his best smile but it wavered. He looked afraid of dying. He looked like a man desperate to live but with no cards left in the deck, no more moves to make.

Valas wanted to tell him he thought of the bard as one of his best friends but the words caught in his throat. He choked out a sob, gently grabbing Dominic’s hand and holding it against his cheek.

“Valas,” Dominic stressed, “Promise me… Promise me you’ll see my daughter.”

Valas started to shake his head.

“See my little Evanora,” he insisted, “She’ll need her – she’ll need her Uncle Val to show her…” He coughed up blood but refused to stop talking. “Show her how to survive… How to survive this cruel world. Tell her – tell her about her Auntie Eve. Tell her about the hero she was, smart and brave…” His words became slower, his eyes dimmer. “Tell her… Tell her that her daddy was a dragon slayer…”

Though he wanted to refuse, Valas slowly nodded. “I’ll tell her about the hero he was too.”

That made Dominic smile. “I always wanted to be a hero…”

With that, Dominic took his last breath.

It had been roughly one year. For roughly a year, he had tried not to think about Dominic or Eve, about any of the others he’d left behind. He’d chosen to run and had never stopped. He had sometimes taken odd jobs – assassinations usually – to earn money so he could feed himself and Spite – the spoiled spider had quite the appetite. But he was used to those jobs requiring only himself. It had been roughly one year since he’d worked in a party.

Now he found himself surrounded by strangers – Rihiri, a tiefling druid; Zaegar, a half-orc monk; Bilbo, a halfling rogue; and Sefhana, a half-elf ranger who he was fairly certain was the most annoying half-elf he’d ever met. Of course he pretended not to remember their names – he didn’t plan on sticking with them for long. They just needed to slay this beast, this… Well he remembered their names, not the beast’s. It was progress.

Still, those memories lingered in his mind. When battle began, his first instinct was to turn to Elizira and give her the mischievous grin that she knew was him asking her to lay down cover fire so he could get close to the enemy as safely as possible.

But Elizira wasn’t there. Instead when he turned he met Sefhana’s gaze. He’d just met her not too long ago, but he assumed it was safe to say they weren’t going to get along.

Where he expected to see Zintra charging into battle, sword drawn, he saw Zaegar, reigning his fists down rather than a blade. Where he expected to see Dominic and Eve concocting some crazy plan that might get everyone killed but hey, at least they’d look good doing it, he saw Rihiri throw Bilbo and the halfling land ungracefully with his face against the ground. Where he expected to see Obsidian swooping down and pecking at enemies, he saw a large bear that had accompanied Rihiri.

And where he expected to see his lovers taking up the rear – Meiros with his crossbow, Hai with his staff and magic – he saw nothing but an empty space. Trees stood where he thought his lovers should have been.

He decided he didn’t like it here with these people early on. It was too familiar yet foreign, working with a group yet a group he had never known before. He’d learned to work in sync with his previous party, with his… friends.

He thought back to that party, to those faces he’d learned to affectionately call his friends – a couple of them more than friends. He thought back to first meeting Zintra, to hunting down that monster. He thought back to being by Zintra’s side as she recruited each of the others. He thought back to the nights they’d spent around a campfire, Dominic creating lyrics to songs on the spot that made no sense but made everyone laugh.

He thought back to Eve, staring lifelessly, silently pleading at him to spare her brother. He thought back to Dominic, to making a promise he couldn’t keep.

He decided that he wouldn’t allow himself to enjoy it here with these people. He wouldn’t allow himself to get close, to stay. He would leave them behind as soon as he collected his money. He didn’t need any more friends. He didn’t need anyone caring about him. He didn’t need the blood of those he cared about on his hands anymore.

He looked around at the group of strangers he didn’t want to get to know. He thought that if he wasn’t in their lives, then certainly their lives would be longer.

Valas stared down at the toy in his hand – a small, wooden dragon. It was clearly a child’s toy, and he had no clue why it was on a corpse unless… He stood up and turned from the corpse, not wanting to find out if it was of a child or an adult. He stared at the little dragon, stirring a memory he’d tried hard to push down.

He saw Dominic using one of his daggers to carve a twig into a crude tiny little spear. He carved it too thin, of course, and it just fell apart the moment he tried to stab a piece of meat with it. Eve playfully rolled her eyes.

“You should leave the woodcarving to the, well, the woodcarvers,” she teased.

He saw himself snatch the dagger back and investigate the blade. “Keep taking my daggers and you’re going to dull the blades.”

Dominic shrugged. “If I want to be a woodcarver, I need to practice.”

Zintra looked up from her meal and cocked an eyebrow. “You want to be a woodcarver?”

Dominic grinned cheekily. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Eve playfully shoved him. “If you were a woodcarver, Evanora would have more toys than she does.”

“She has plenty of toys!” Dominic protested, “Her Auntie Eve spoils her.”

This time it was Eve’s turn to grin. “Well I have to be her favorite relative.”

Dominic barked out laughter at that.

“You should make her a toy dragon,” Elizira chimed in, “After all her daddy’s a dragon slayer.”

Dominic opened his mouth to agree when Eve added, “And it’d be small enough to be a baby dragon.” Dominic shot her a sour look and the party erupted in laughter around the small campfire they had built.

And suddenly Valas was staring at a small, wooden toy. A little dragon in his hands. And he was back in the cave with a different party, a different set of faces. The only familiar thing was Spite, perched on his shoulder, staring at him with her multitude of eyes. For the first time in roughly a year, he slipped the toy into his bag with one thought on his mind.

Evanora would like this.

You’ve got to be kidding me, Valas wanted to say, staring defiantly at the half-orc in front of him. Was it truly the only way to get what they needed? Couldn’t they just kill them all and go about their lives? Did he really need to give this up?

Of course he did. He mentally reminded himself that this was life and life was never kind, at least not for long. Anything kind would surely be taken away from him – kind gestures, kind moments, kind people. It would all become memories soaked in blood. It always had.

He thought he saw Sefhana look like she was going to try to swipe it from him. Which would have been ridiculous in his opinion, trying sleight of hand out on a rogue. But then Zaegar had his attention again – he told himself the monk could easily get his attention just because he was shirtless. He refused to think any farther into that.

The next words out of the drow’s mouth was a price. It was a ridiculous price that anyone in their right mind wouldn’t pay. It was a silly item that wasn’t even worth half that amount. At first he didn’t think he’d heard correctly when Zaegar agreed. But as he saw the coin, he realized he’d somehow walked right into a deal that should have greatly pleased him. He’d never reluctantly taken money before. But as he put on his best cocky grin and traded the small item for the gold, he felt just that – reluctance.

He watched as the wooden toy, the little dragon was given away so they could continue on and finish their quest. He told himself it was for the best. He didn’t ever plan on seeing the Crawfords again. He hadn’t even been there for Dominic and Eve’s funerals, having ran away as they had been traveling to take the bodies home.

He told himself he didn’t deserve to take such a gift to little Evanora, who would be eleven by now. He didn’t deserve to hand her a toy with the same hands that had been soaked in her father and aunt’s blood. He didn’t deserve to see her smiling face again, to be graced with her presence again. He didn’t deserve to have such innocence in his life.

He told himself it was for the best.

He pretended that celebrations bored him, but rather they made him uncomfortable. He didn’t think he deserved to be celebrated, and he guessed the townsfolk might have felt odd, having a drow in the party they were cheering on. Or perhaps it was such a small town that they didn’t care. He found it hard to keep track of every place that despised his race.

He watched the others have fun, mostly sticking to the shadows or eating when he felt hungry. Receiving gifts from the townsfolk wasn’t something he was used to or expected. All he’d wanted was to get paid so he could leave, but free food was free food.

He rummaged through the gifts, not quite caring about them and halfheartedly putting them away in his bag. He froze, though, when he noticed a small, wooden toy. It lifted the little dragon up and inspected it. He wasn’t sure if it was new or the same one. But either way, somehow he now held a toy dragon in his hands. He glanced around, trying to figure out who was responsible for it – it couldn’t have been a coincidence. But to his knowledge, no one was giddily watching him, waiting for him to see the toy. To his knowledge, no one cared.

He glanced to Spite – he guessed that if spiders could shrug, she would have – before carefully placing the toy in his bag.

He wondered who he would owe for this. It wasn’t a coincidence, he was sure of it. And nothing in life came free. Someone knew about the toy, knew what it had meant to him though he hadn’t spoken it. Someone had gone out of their way to get either the same one or a new one and give it to him. He thought someone clearly wanted something from him, but what? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

He knew this city. He realized that the instant his stomach dropped and he felt sick. He’d been traveling around with Rihiri, Zaegar, Sefhana, and Bilbo for a little over a year now, and he’d been praying to the goddess that they wouldn’t journey to this city. Perhaps this was Lolth’s way of punishing him for not being devout.

It was a big city, but he doubted luck was on his side. He pretended not to know where shops or inns were. He pretended not to know the city, but he was quieter than usual. This city brought back memories that should have put a smile on his face but instead tore at his heart. This city made him look at his hands and see red.

He stood outside a vendor, one he recognized and resisted the urge to groan. He remembered almost punching this vendor for trying to swindle him out of his money while stating not so kind words about drow. The only thing that had kept him from decking the man had been Hai, gently but firmly grasping his arm and pulling him away. He remembered also hearing the man scream something about his hair being on fire.

His hair had clearly grown back – he looked as irritating as ever. He eyed Valas, but kept most of his attention on Rihiri and Zaegar, though technically Bilbo was the one talking to him. The man’s eyes were nervous glued to the tiefling and half-orc, who looked intimidating from his angle. It probably didn’t make the man feel comforted to see the party was trailed by a bear and a wolf.

Valas, however, hadn’t realized he’d neglected to put his hood up. Every now and then the man glanced at him as if he thought he might have recognized him before his attention snapped back to the druid and monk. Valas was tempted to tell Bilbo to steal whatever he needed while the merchant was preoccupied.

“Uncle Val!” he heard a familiar shriek and felt something – or rather someone – collide with him and refuse to let go. He looked down to find a twelve year old girl with wavy red hair tied up in pigtails. Though he hadn’t seen her in a few years and hadn’t expected her to recognize him, he knew instantly who she was.

Evanora.

She released him from her hug and his eyes darted around, searching the crowd for the face of her mother, Amelia. He didn’t see her which both relieved and concerned him. He didn’t think he could face her – the last time he’d seen her, she’d told him and Zintra to bring her husband back safely. However he also didn’t think Evanora should be out without her mother.

He knelt down in front of the little girl, not quite sure what to say. She looked up at his companions and gave a small wave with a big grin before her attention was back on him. Her grin wavered.

“Do you remember me?” her voice cracked, setting off alarms in his head. She was pure, innocent, a child. She didn’t deserve to be sad.

“Yes – Yes, of course I do!” he said quickly, watching with relief as a smile returned to her face. He swallowed down his emotions and tried to put on a smile of his own, cupping her face in his hands. “Look at how big you’ve grown! Why you’re practically an adult!”

She giggled at that. “Mommy lets me go grocery shopping by myself!”

He doubted that was true. Amelia was a protective mother, even though the city was fairly safe and most in it knew and were fond of the Crawford family. “Does she now? You must be so brave to walk these streets alone!”

She grinned and bounced up and down, her pigtails bouncing with her. “I am! I am!” It was clear she had her father’s energy. When she stopped bouncing, she looked at him as if searching for something. “Where have you been?”

He felt like she’d stabbed him with one of his own daggers. If only, he thought.

“I uh…” he tried to think of something, “I’ve um – I’ve been on a secret mission.”

She gasped. “A secret mission?!”

“Shhh, Evanora,” he gently hushed her, “It’s a secret.”

She made a big O with her mouth and quickly nodded her head.

“I’m actually still on it,” he explained. He didn’t like lying to her, but he thought lying was one of the things he did best.

“Why are you here?” she asked curiously.

He thought of that small toy and swung his backpack off his shoulder. “I’ve got a gift for you.” He reached in and gently took the dragon toy out, handing it to her.

She gasped and took it, grinning from ear to ear.

He smiled, genuinely and affectionately. “Now when you look at this,” he spoke up to get her attention again, “I want you to remember you daddy, okay?”

“My daddy?”

He nodded. “You see, your daddy and Auntie Eve, they were brave, brave heroes. The bravest this world will ever know! And your daddy – Why, he was a dragon slayer!”

Her eyes widened. “He was?”

Valas found himself mirroring her grin. “He was! I was attacked one time by this evil evil dragon, and your daddy saved my life!”

“Can I tell Mommy that story?” she asked eagerly.

He thought that it was only because she was young and distracted by her excitement that she didn’t ask him to come with her. “Of course!”

She threw her arms around him, and he found himself hugging her back and not quite wanting to let go. He didn’t want to leave her in the past again. But he had to let go. If he stayed, she would only get hurt. And she would hate him if she ever found out the truth. He stood up and watched her bounce off to find her mother.

He felt eyes on him and, unsurprisingly, found the others had been watching. He didn’t blame them. In their shoes, he probably would have watched too.

“She’s the daughter of someone I knew,” he explained without needing to be asked.

“A friend?” Rihiri asked. During their nights spent together, he had opened up to her a couple of times, though he’d kept majority of the details to himself.

“I don’t have friends,” he stated firmly, though he was fairly certain the look Sefhana gave him translated to bullshit. “Not… anymore.” He didn’t think he’d ever admitted that he’d once had friends before. At least not to anyone but Rihiri. He thought the silence that followed was awkward and uncomfortable. “You can ask what happened.” His own voice sounded demanding even to him, as if he wanted them to accuse him of what they didn’t know had happened.

Zaegar smiled softly at him – Valas thought he smiled too much, and on that note, flexed too much too, not that he would ever tell the monk to stop. He liked watching him smile and flex. “You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

Valas pulled his gaze away. He wanted them to accuse him. Murderer. Monster. Traitor. He wanted those words screamed at him, spoken like the truth they were.

“He died,” he stated it, his voice cold yet shaking, the sorrow he’d never allowed himself to grieve threatening to shatter the ice he’d put between himself and his heart. “He died with his sister. They were murdered.”

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo spoke up before the others could, but it was clear that even Sefhana sympathized.

Valas found he couldn’t stop talking, speaking words he didn’t want to. “When we first met, I… I was on a quest to avenge them. I’ve sworn to kill the man who killed them.” Before any of them could offer to hunt someone down, he added, “It’s something that I must do. And eventually I’ll get the chance to. Until then, it doesn’t matter.”

“If we run into him, tell us and we can help,” Rihiri promised, and Valas looked away.

He didn’t have the heart to tell them they had already met that man.

“Thank you,” he said instead, “But I’ll kill him… When I’m strong enough, he’ll die.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell Rihiri that this was linked to the bandages she’d seen around his arms and wrists. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was linked to the scars and cuts she’d seen on his arms, wrists, waist, and thighs. He didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that he was talking about himself.

[magicrobins]

“Fuck, stay down, would you?”

You like Dungeons & Dragons, so I made this into a fic for my Dungeons & Dragons main OC, Valas! ^^ Hope you like it.

Valas Telenna & Zintra Rastor. Dungeons & Dragons. Band of Misfits. 2,277 words. More under the cut. AO3.

The silence when he entered the tavern was expected. He had that effect on people. It happened as soon as the combination of charcoal skin, hair like snow, and bright crimson eyes were noticed. They didn’t even need to see the pointed ears hidden by his hood. The hostility in the air grew as he strode in and took a seat at the bar. No one said anything, though a few people stared. Others would glance at him and then glance at other patrons as if to see if they were seeing the same thing. When he tried to meet their eyes, some would look away. A rare few would meet his gaze with a hostile one of their own. It was clear he wasn’t welcomed. It was clear that everyone wished he would leave.

And that was why he decided to stay. That and he needed a drink, though he doubted he could get one without the bartender’s spit in it. He tried to make eye contact with the bartender to place an order, but the young man refused to meet his gaze.

Valas shrugged to himself and pulled out a small pack. He shook a gold coin out of the pack before putting it back away, the coin still in his hand. He twisted it between his fingers, making sure it glinted in the light of the fires that lit the candle – he purposefully only traveled at night. His vision wasn’t the best during the day. The coin glittered and caught the bartender’s attention. That was all he needed. He didn’t need the bartender to take the time to decide if money was enough to convince him to serve him. The coin could cover the cost of any drink he wanted so he placed it on the counter and slid it in the direction of the bartender. He then sat forward and reached over the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey.

A hand shot out, fingers wrapping tightly around his wrist. Valas cocked an eyebrow and glanced to the side. It wasn’t the bartender but rather a fellow patron. He was human like the bartender but clearly older. The bartender looked about in his mid-twenties. This man looked more like he was in his late-thirties. He could have looked old or young for his age, Valas thought, but either way he had the advantage of experience. No matter how old a human was, they could never match the lifespan of his race.

“You’d do best to keep your hands to yourself, drow,” the man spoke, hostility lacing his words and etched onto his face.

Valas glanced down at the man’s hand firmly clamped to his wrist. “So you’ll touch me but I can’t touch you?” He grinned up at the man. “Sounds kinky.”

Fury flashed on the man’s face before he twisted Valas’ wrist. The young drow did his best to hold in a gasp at the sudden throb of pain that shot out from his wrist. His grin was gone, eyes warily remaining on the man. He liked making people uncomfortable, but he drew a line when it threatened his own safety.

“If you let go, I can leave,” he tried to reason with the man. There wasn’t any nervousness or worry to his voice. He could handle himself – he just preferred to fight for money rather than survival. After all, money made him happier than surviving did, even if surviving meant he got to spend that money. However he soon learned that snatching the whiskey wasn’t the reason why the man had approached him.

“My brother-in-law was killed earlier tonight,” he explained. Valas opened his mouth to say that sucked – though he thought it would have been nice if someone had killed any of his relatives. Before he could speak, the man continued, “A witness said a figure clad in black attacked him and slit his throat.” The man’s eyes roamed over Valas, who was clothed in black leather and a black cloak.

Valas pursed his lips, aware that he’d left a witness. He only killed those he was hired too, and he hadn’t been hired to kill any innocent witnesses. He’d been paid up front so it hadn’t mattered to him if a witness had got away.

“Perhaps your brother-in-law pissed off the wrong person,” he offered with a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t know why he’d been hired. He hadn’t asked questions. If he asked questions, there was always a chance he wouldn’t be hired. People preferred their assassins to be tight lipped, silent.

The man leaned forward, drawing closer to the rogue. “Are you that person?”

Valas shook his head. “I’ve never met the guy until tonight. He pissed the wrong person off, and the wrong person dropped some coin into my hand.” His usual cocky grin returned. “It’s never personal.”

The next few moments happened in a blur of movement. The man threw him to the ground. Either the man’s brother-in-law was well liked in the town or they just wanted an excuse to beat up a drow because majority of the tavern’s patrons stood up and looked eager for a fight. For once Valas was glad he’d chosen to leave Spite outside. That spoiled rotten spider would have abandoned him in a heartbeat the moment the fight broke out. Still Valas’ cocky grin didn’t waver. He enjoyed the thrill and excitement of a good fight, the feeling of putting someone’s face beneath his boot.

And getting punched or kicked around didn’t do much to waver that thrill. He was used to being beat on.

Valas brought the toe of his boot up under the man’s chin when the man bent over him to start throwing punches. He slammed both feet against the man’s chest and pushed, using all his strength to get him off him. Once the threat of the man no longer hovered over him, he swiftly jumped to his feet. He unclipped his cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. With it no longer draped around him, the twin daggers sheathed and hanging from his belt were plain to see.

His hands gripped the hilts of the daggers. The tavern’s patrons paused when they noticed the weapons and remembered their own lack of weapons. They were, for the most part, simple townsfolk. There was only one person in the back who was armored in shimmering gold and silver metal with what looked like a sheathed sword at her side. But she looked uninterested in the current events. Instead, she took another gulp from her cup and swallowed before turning her attention to the papers she held in her hands. There was no way she hadn’t noticed the commotion, she just didn’t seem to care.

At least she’s not attacking me, was all Valas thought about her before his attention turned elsewhere.

A patron came at him with a broken bottle but soon found a dagger in his shoulder. Valas roughly yanked the dagger out and kicked the man in the stomach to get him to stagger back.

“Fuck!” he heard the man snarl, “Stay down, would you?!”

But he didn’t plan to stay down.

The fighting became like a dance of sorts. He weaved through the patrons, ducking blows and dodging bottles and cups thrown at him. He sliced at skin and cloth, avoiding any fatal marks as much as he could. He was smaller, more nimble than the patrons he fought. He was faster too and sober. However he wasn’t invincible or perfect. Even he made mistakes.

It was the usual mistake. He was far too cocky for his own good. He got comfortable in plausible victories, forgetting that they hadn’t yet been won. He got sloppy. He enjoyed the thrill of a fight too much to focus on fully achieving a victory.

A fist caught him in the jaw. He stumbled back, right into someone’s arms. Large, muscled arms wrapped around him from behind, firmly holding him in place. He tried to lash out with his daggers, but the man from earlier, the one who’d lost his brother-in-law, came forward and snatched the weapons away. The man grinned wickedly at him, either driven by adrenaline or alcohol – Valas wasn’t sure which was more likely.

“Now I’ve got your daggers,” the man explained the obvious. Valas raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And a rogue is nothing without his weapons.”

Valas worked his jaw. It still throbbed, but he didn’t think it was broken or dislocated.

“Technically that’s not true,” he threw back at the man, “But I mean if it helps you sleep at night, by all means, believe in a lie.”

“You used these to kill my brother-in-law, didn’t you?” the man snarled, moving closer, invading the rogue’s personal space. “How about I use them to kill you?” He didn’t look like he had any training with daggers, but he raised both hands, a dagger firmly gripped in each one. Valas flinched as the man brought the daggers down…

The sound of a sword unsheathed cut through the quiet background of the tavern. The man stopped immediately as he found a blade held threateningly in front of him, placed between him and the rogue.

The owner of the blade was a mere three feet and three inches tall. Her long, straight golden blonde hair was tied in a low ponytail. She wore golden armor with silver chainmail. The armor was clean, polished to reflect the faces of the tavern’s patrons. It would be easy to assume she held no training, had never seen a battle, but the way that she held herself and the sword told a story of experience, battles, and bloodbaths. Whoever she was, it was clear that she was possibly the most skilled in the tavern.

She kept the sword leveled on the man, but when she spoke, she directed her words at the one holding Valas without moving her gaze. “Release the drow.”

The man moved to take a step forward. “Who do you think you are?”

The sword moved, pressing its tip against the man’s stomach. The man was easily six feet tall, but she stood her ground as if she wore the tallest and biggest person there.

“Release the drow,” she ordered firmly as if she held any real authority over the patrons, “Or by Pelor, I will cut you down.”

The man exchanged a look with the one holding Valas. The next thing the rogue knew, he was released. He dusted his arms off and cast a glare over his shoulder at the one who’d held him. His cloak, which he hadn’t noticed had been picked up by the young woman, was then thrown at him. He caught it and swung it back onto his shoulders, pulling his hood up.

The young woman, a gnome clearly, held her free hand out to the man. “His daggers.”

The man grit his teeth. “He is a drow and a murderer! He is nothing but a blade for hire!”

“Make up your mind,” she said evenly, “Is he a drow and a murderer or is he nothing but a blade for hire? You can’t be nothing but a blade and also be something else. Don’t you know that? Or are you stupid?” Her tone was chastising, superior. She held her head high, meeting the man’s gaze with her calculating brown eyes.

The man’s own eyes flared with anger. “He killed my brother–”

“People die!” she snapped. “Now hand me those daggers or I will cut your hands off to retrieve them myself.”

The man looked like he wanted to smack that sword out of her hand. Instead he placed the hilts of the daggers into her hand. Without taking her eyes off him, she handed the daggers back to Valas, who sheathed them back to his belt. She remained standing there, sword drawn, for several more minutes before she grabbed Valas by his arm and practically dragged him out of the tavern. Once out of the tavern, he yanked his arm out of his grasp. Spite was there, clearly waiting for him. The black, cat-sized spider scurried up his leg and all the way to perch on his shoulder. The gnome gave the spider one glance before her gaze settled onto him.

“I would like to hire you to kill someone for me,” she stated bluntly.

Valas frowned. “You would?”

She nodded. “I’m putting together a party to hunt someone down and kill them. I’m willing to pay each party member fifty-thousand gold once the job is done.”

At that, his eyebrows shot up. He couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued. He looked at her, at her shining armor. It was obvious to him that she was experienced in whatever her class was, but her armor looked brand new. He thought she certainly looked like someone who could afford to pay him fifty-thousand gold.

“After the job is done?”

It was her turn to frown. “I’m not paying you so you can take my money and leave, rogue.”

He gave her a smirk. “Rogue not drow?”

She leveled her gaze with his, brown eyes meeting red. “I don’t give a crap what race you are. Either you’ll accept the offer or you won’t.” She turned on her heels. “Follow me, if you accept.” She started walking, looking quite intent on leaving the town.

Valas glanced at Spite on his shoulder before sighing and calling after her, “I don’t even know who or what you are!”

She didn’t look back at him, but called out, “Zintra Rastor, paladin!”

He grinned and ran after her, deciding that this would be quite the adventure.

[magicrobins]

dungeons & dragons + aesthetic || valas telenna // rogue [x]

“Obviously I’m the pretty one.”