#maya Do’Urden

[greenieart]

More little fellas! The Do’Urdens this time :)

[More: x, x, x, x]

[aldanil]

The House Do’Urden, the way I imagine them in my head

I hadn’t place to draw Zak and Rizzen ):

Tumblr ruined the pixels again

[missrosiewolf]

IT! IS! SHEEEEEE!

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why it happened. But somehow, someway Maya Do’Urden has become my favorite of the Do’Urden siblings. Despite appearing in only two books and dying in the second one.

[novarex]

A closeup of Maya Do'Urden from the Drizzt Visual Dictionary.

MAYA - The youngest daughter of Malice, and sired by House patron Rizzen, Maya Do’Urden is a fanatically devoted priestess of Lolth. Skilled with telepathy and the mace and shield, Maya gives Drizzt his first lesson in “the way of the drow,” forcing him to kill her goblin champion. She gets her own taste of the way of the drow when House Baenre comes to destroy her house.

[lawful-evil-novelist]

A very basic look at the Do’Urden home in my Modern AU, base of the house was made by Raspeed_K because while I’m fine with the visual design aspect of things I am not very good with architecture.  This rendition of the design is set for when Drizzt is around 15-16.  I plan to do this with more setups as I go but they do tend to take a bit just to get things cleaned up.  My plan is to use Realm of Magic’s house design for all the drow manors since it has a good mystical vibe I think I prefer over the Vampires version despite the latter’s good color scheme (you’ll notice I use the wallpapers a lot).  Feel free to ask any questions if they come up!

The Oblodra Estate 1

The bedroom numbers:

Nalfein’s bedroom

Maya’s bedroom

Dinin’s bedroom

Vierna’s bedroom

Drizzt’s bedroom

Briza’s bedroom

Master bedroom/Malice’s bedroom (as it’s a Modern AU I feel slightly more secure in Malice just having Rizzen and Zaknafein sleep in her room I don’t think she’d consider it a huge deal)

[too-many-blorbos]

Abandoned Homeland AU: Malice's Revelation

Malice Do’urden, Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan’s ninth house, listened to the report with a stony face. Her second son, captured by deep gnomes. It made her blood boil. Not because of any concern for him, but because it was a humiliating end, even if he’d managed to kill an earth elemental before his defeat. That victory hardly covered the stain of failure.

“Leave me,” Malice dismissed Dinin with a flick of her hand. She leaned her pointed chin on her fist, brooding in silence as her daughters waited for her to speak.

“...Perhaps it is a blessing that he is lost,” Malice mused.

“A blessing?” Maya couldn’t help objecting. “We went to such lengths to shape him! He had so much potential–” 

“The wrong potential. He killed an elemental single-handedly, yet only managed to slay a single surface elf? A child at that? He held back during the raid; that is the only explanation.” Malice reclined on her throne. “He held back against our enemies; he spoke for mercy toward the house which threatens us; he spewed sacrilege at the graduation ceremony. Despite three decades under our tutelage, he still refuses to act like a proper drow. No–it is a blessing that he perished now, on a high point, before he could bring disgrace to our family name.”

“There was too much of his father in him,’ Briza humbly agreed. They spoke more, debating how to turn these events to their advantage in the looming war.

But Zaknafein, listening outside the chapel, paid no mind to the rest of the conversation.

 His head was spinning from Malice’s deduction. Could it be true that his son–his Two-Hands–was not as lost as he’d feared? Zaknafein had hated him for killing a child… but Zak had nearly been guilty of the same crime, had even thought it a mercy. What if Drizzt, who thought so much like his mentor, had reached the same conclusion that death was a mercy for the faerie child? How could Zak condemn Drizzt for that without also condemning himself?

My son, he thought with despair, guilt crashing down on him, I abandoned you. And now you are gone, and I shall never be able to make it right.

…Or could he? The gnomes had captured Drizzt, not killed him. Surely that meant they intended to keep him alive for some purpose. He might be a prisoner or a slave in the deep gnomes’ kingdom. Malice would not care about that possibility; even if he lived still, she would never condone a rescue mission for a male, and a troublesome one at that. She would never allow Zaknafein to go after him. 

…I have never cared for what Malice will and will not allow. Rebellion flared in Zaknafein’s heart, the spitefulness that she’d never been able to beat out of him. Centuries of cowardice and indecision fell away, replaced with one bright realization–

 Zaknafein’s place was at his son’s side. If the boy still lived, then Zaknafein must free him. And if he was dead, or the Drizzt Zak knew was truly and completely gone… then Zak had no reason to stay in this wretched place. Anywhere would be better than serving beside the witch who’d sent his son to his death. Zaknafein set off down the hall, heedless of anyone in his way. He could not waste any time.

Drizzt needed him.

Part I

Part II

[rukafais]

Also just for informational purposes (and possibly for anon's benefit?), it is never outright stated but given the emphasis on third living sons (can't sacrifice a dead kid after all) and how third born and third living seem interchangeable, it does contextually imply that you can keep having sons after you sacrifice your third given there are noble houses with more than two sons, but there has to be a third living son to sacrifice in the first place. Given no displeasure or punishment came from Malice Not Stabbin That Baby, it seems that if you've only got two living sons period before you seal the deal, as it were, then you're good to not do that.

Other than Yvonnel herself, there were perhaps two others in all the city who knew, and if they spoke of it, they would evoke the wrath of Lady Lolth herself. Jarlaxle was Yvonnel’s son, her third-born son, who had been, as custom dictated, sacrificed upon the moment of his birth.

Briza began her sacred chant, formally naming the babe before giving it to Lolth, but neither Maya, the youngest of the Do’Urden daughters, nor Vierna heard her, both reaching out to connect with their brothers. Nalfein and Dinin must know the child’s name before it was sacrificed, that the whole of the family could partake in the great gift to the Spider Queen. Drizzt, Vierna heard Dinin respond to her magical message, and she felt a strong emotive surge from him, surprisingly so. Maya heard nothing from Nalfein, and knew that her magical message had not reached him. Their preparations had been careful and exquisite, the bonding tight between them, but yet, nothing. There could be only one explanation for that. “Wait!” she yelled, drawing horrified looks from both Briza and Malice. “Nalfein is dead. The baby is no longer the third living son.”

“Lady Lolth spurned me long ago, my friend.” Jarlaxle tried hard not to betray any emotions other than his typically flippant attitude, but it was difficult. On his mother’s orders, the failure of the sacrificial ceremony had been buried beneath a swath of lies. She had ordered him declared dead, then wrapped in a shroud of silk and thrown into the lake known as Donigarten, as was customary for sacrificed third sons.

“What are you talking about?” asked Drizzt, almost afraid to hear the reply. “You were to be the third-born male in the family,” Vierna explained, “the third living son.” “I have heard of my brother Nal—” The name stuck in Drizzt’s throat as he began to understand. All he had ever been able to learn of Nalfein was that he had been killed by another drow. “You will learn in your studies at Arach-Tinilith that third living sons are customarily sacrificed to Lolth,” Vierna continued. “So were you promised. On the night that you were born, the night that House Do’Urden battled House DeVir, Dinin made his ascent to the position of elderboy.” She cast a sly glance at her brother, standing with his arms proudly crossed over his chest.

There was only one tempering notion here—or rather, two potential issues, though very related. Despite her earlier bravado, could she really be certain that Zaknafein’s progeny would be a daughter? And if it was a boy, she would have no recourse, particularly after utilizing a most sacred spell, which required the blessing of Lolth. A male child, even Zaknafein’s child, third boy of the house, would have to be sacrificed.

Gonna try to stop this from turning into an infodump, because I’m very passionate about the drow. But basically the third male is always sacrificed, but Baenre has a habit of adopting children, as well as not obeying the rules. It isn’t merely that they sacrifice their third born (else Drizzt would have been sacrificed because he may have become the secondboy but was still third born, technically) they sacrifice the third boy because two is more than enough in Lolth’s eyes. Weird as it seems, House Baenre, whose matron is generally Lolth’s chosen, usually is a bad example to use to discern the rules. I guess when you worship a chaos goddess being the chosen means not being held to the same standard by your goddess but I dunno

Uhhhh yeah I'm also very passionate about the Drow I've read most of the books. My point was that the third born son is always sacrificed but the fourth and the fifth don't need to be. Minthara said every subsequent son after the second is sacrificed and that's wrong. In the case of House Baenre. The first two sons were Gromph and Doquaio (Doquaio died whoops). Then she had Jarlaxle whose whole situation was an outlier. But thenshe has Dantrag and Berg'inyon. So she has well over two sons. And then with house Xorlorrain you have Brack'thal, Uhlsrysn, and Ravel. So she also has three living sons with the third in the birth order presumably having been sacrificed. You can keep your fourth son

[razumairon]

That moment when you're bored af and you don't want to do homework. Enjoy my fav dysfunctional family✌🏻

[rukafais]

hey let’s play a fun game of “what do the drizzt prequels that are all about Menzoberranzan’s culture and were written around the same time as 2nd edition was releasing, say about what drow clothing is like?”

WELL:

The guard at each point of the formation wore black robes emblazoned on the back with a large purple-and-red spider design—the robes of a high priestess.

They knew a noble from a commoner, and though drow elves did not carry their family insignia in plain view, the pointed and tailed cut of Dinin’s stark white hair and the distinctive pattern of purple and red lines in his black piwafwi told them well enough who he was.

Drizzt forced his gaze up tentatively, scanning his mother’s black robes, using the familiar spider pattern along the garment’s back and sides to judge the angle of his gaze.

“You have your weapons and your piwafwi,” she explained. “Now it is time for you to don the complete outfit of a noble of House Do’Urden.” From the chest she pulled out a pair of high black boots and handed them to Drizzt.

Drizzt eagerly slipped out of his normal boots and put on the new ones. They were incredibly soft, and they magically shifted and adjusted to a perfect fit on his feet. Drizzt knew the magic within them: they would allow him to move in absolute silence. Before he had even finished admiring them, though, Maya gave him the next gift, even more magnificent.

Drizzt dropped his piwafwi to the floor as he took a set of silvery chain mail. In all the Realms, there was no armor as supple and finely crafted as drow chain mail. It weighed no more than a heavy shirt and would bend as easily as silken cloth, yet could deflect the tip of a spear as surely as dwarven-crafted plate mail.

Nearly every dark elf in Menzoberranzan dressed in a quiet and practical manner, in robes adorned with the symbols of the Spider Queen or in supple chain-link armor under the folds of a magical and camouflaging piwafwi cloak.

Jarlaxle, arrogant and brash, followed few of the customs of Menzoberranzan’s inhabitants. He was most certainly not the norm of drow society and he flaunted the differences openly, brazenly. He wore not a cloak nor a robe, but a shimmering cape that showed every color of the spectrum both in the glow of light and in the infrared spectrum of heat-sensing eyes. The cape’s magic could only be guessed, but those closest to the mercenary leader indicated that it was very valuable indeed.

Jarlaxle’s vest was sleeveless and cut so high that his slender and tightly muscled stomach was open for all to view. He kept a patch over one eye, though careful observers would understand it as ornamental, for Jarlaxle often shifted it from one eye to the other.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

everyone is implied or stated to wear practical clothing, as it turns out (except jarlaxle who literally gets the most description about his fashion and his midriff-bearing outfit, lmao)

so where does the sexy sexy drow sourcebook and boxset art come from? who fuckin knows! but these are all the canon descriptions from the prequels

[scimitarshighest-blog]

House Do’Urden

Words: “Watching For Foe and Friend”

Coat of Arms: A six legged spider atop a morning star and shortsword. Seat: Holdfast Lord: Vacant; Lady Regent Vierna Do’Urden Region: Crownlands/The Narrow Sea Title: Lord of Holdfast Overlord: House Targaryen (Formerly), House Baratheon (Formerly), House Lannister (House Targaryen once again in TV)

Ancestral Weapon(s): Ōños (Valyrian Steel Scimitar), Tooth and Fang (Valyrian Twin Longswords)(Lost), Tongue-Splitter (Dragon-Horned Whip)(Lost)

Founded: >1 AC Founder: Maltere Do’Urden I

History

House Do’Urden is a noble house in Westeros of Valyrian descent, originally serving as a servant house under House Targaryen. Formed when a landed knight Maltere Do’Urden established his holdings on an island that was practically within The Narrow Sea itself. The purpose of this was to ensure that House Targaryen would be notified of any potential invasions from East, South, or North, by way of navy or dragon, for the Targaryens still feared the potential of being assaulted by Valyrian families who remained in the Freehold following Aenar’s flight to Dragonstone.

The Do’Urden family has remained on Holdfast without interruption for the centuries following the house’s establishment, although they are often referred to with terms of derision, as they only officially became a family that could govern and make laws over Holdfast in the last century, due to actions and valor on the part of its leader’s then-paramour Zaknafein during the War of The Ninepenny Kings. Through this, Zaknafein and Malladra Do’Urden were given the title of Lord and Lady, and House Do’Urden became a lordly house proper.

During Robert’s Rebellion, The Do’Urdens remained loyal to the Targaryens until the war was declared over. This would have little impact on the war as a whole, however, as House Do’Urden’s primary threat is through its naval prowess. Due to how far out of the way it is, being further east than even Dragonstone, House Do’Urden was allowed to re-declare allegiance to the throne.

While the house as a whole was not particularly involved in Greyjoy’s rebellion, given that they are localized on opposite sides of the continent, it did lose several key members, including Nalfein (The first heir), Maya, and Briza Do’Urden. This rebellion would leave a particularly bad taste in the mouth of the house for Greyjoys, and Northmen in general.

In The War of The Five Kings, House Do’Urden would betray the throne to serve under Stannis Baratheon’s banner. This would prove their folly, as during the siege on King’s Landing, most of The Do’Urden’s standing military and ships would fall, as well as the then-heir Dinin Do’Urden, Zaknafein Do’Urden, and Malladra Do’Urden. With the death of Zaknafein, three of the house’s ancestral weapons were lost, their whereabouts are currently unknown.

Around this time Drizzt Do’Urden, the would-be Lord of Holdfast, disappeared mysteriously before he could be declared lord. It is the statemeny of The Crown that Drizzt was kidnapped by Stannis Baratheon and taken north as a ransom, in order to strong-arm the interim leader of the house, Drizzt’s elder sister Vierna Do’Urden, to sending her forces to The King of The Narrow Sea.

While it is true that Drizzt fled to the North, it was of his own doing, although none seem to know the reason, he approaches The Wall.

Culture

Do’Urdens are descended from Valyria, and resultantly bear many of the same prominent features, such as white hair and violet eyes, that Targaryens possess. This, in the past, has caused other to mistake Do’Urden family members for their lieges, which has been used to fool enemies into kidnapping one of the lesser nobles, rather than the family of the crown.

As-is tradition for their overlords, Do’Urdens are all taught High Valyrian as children, in tandem with common tongue. It’s also not uncommon to be taught the trade languages as well, due to a Do’Urden being expected to interact with sailors of many kinds when they stop off at the island, on their way to or from Westeros.

Not quick to abandon the ways of Valyria, Do’Urden still observes the religion of Valyria, even following pressure to convert to The Church of The Seven. However, due to their lack of nobility, Do’Urdens have no illusions of purity and are known to rarely commit incest outside of cousins at least being twice removed. The sigil of the house was selected by Malladra to represent not only their strength of arms, but also the poison that they sow into their enemies, slowly defeating a foe from within for the sake of themselves, rather than their liege.

[bastardsunlight]

A blurb of what I’ve been working on for a “worst fucking timeline” AU for Drizzt

Briza, eldest of house Do’Urden, stood over the body of her mother, the entire household once more gathered for the ceremony of sacrifice to Lolth, their despicable spider queen. The former matron’s heart was still attached, and dripping, from the eight-legged end of the ceremonial dagger. A hush had fallen over the crowd as the witnessing Yochlol had appeared behind Briza, draping one of its horrific tentacles over her shoulder. The big female, in turn, held the heart aloft and communicated aloud so that the gathered throng could hear her.

“No more is Daermon N’a’shezbaernon cast out of the web of Lolth’s many blessings,” she dared, heaving the heart higher even as her mother’s powerful hand finally relinquished its grip upon her blood-spattered robes. Drizzt lay upon the sacrificial plinth, lavender orbs unfocused, seeing little that went on.

“To commit the same act as Matron Malice,” the Yochlol rumbled, eyes turning backward to consult its mistress a moment. Once more, House Do’Urden was caught in an eternal moment of anticipation, indecision and, most importantly, fear. This, the spider queen fed upon with zeal and vigor, conveying her response to her servant. “You have draped irony and deceit atop irony and deceit, and Lolth is pleased.”

The sigh that went out from the crowd was almost audible. But for Maya and Vierna’s presence on either side of the grand altar, hands on snake-headed whips, they might have cheered. As it was, however, the solemn silence returned, each drow knowing that the spider queen was not so easily placated. Her intended sacrifice lay still upon the plinth, drugged and worthless—as any  male might under the influence of the powerful drugs all clerics were taught to mix during their tenure at Arach-Tinilith.

“I have given the true offender to Lolth,” Briza ventured telepathically. The Yochlol seemed to chuckle at this, a wet sound, but grating too, and with an unearthly hollowness to it that made the other two high priestesses shiver. Briza held her ground.

“And what makes you so certain that the spider queen’s pleasure is absolute, hm?” Now the Yochlol was testing Briza’s devotion to their mutual mistress. The handmaiden knew full well Briza’s plans and machinations. These were the designs of Menzoberranzan, the chaos which fueled Lolth. Even such disorder had a certain order to it.

“Her ladyship desired my late mother’s seat on the Ruling Council and she held it, to little effect, and outside the spider queen’s favor for a year,” Briza explained, knowing the Yochlol already knew where she was headed with all of this, but willing—for the sake of her pride and that of her House (and it was her House now)—to continue with the proceedings as befitted a high priestess and a matron mother. “Meanwhile, I, Briza Do’Urden, have gained the spider queen’s favor. I have only hoped to elevate my sisters and all of Daermon N’a’shezbaernon to the favor I enjoy. Have I not been faithful to the spider queen?”

“You have,” replied the Yochlol without consultation. The handmaiden was appreciative, as was its mistress, with the double betrayal that had taken place. Even the spider queen herself appreciated a strong, willful male once in a while and if Briza’s plans for Drizzt were anything like what Malice had done to Zaknafein, house Do’Urden was one to watch, indeed. It was for this reason the Yochlol had not struck Briza down where she stood the moment she took her place as matron mother.

“Both sources of this male’s disobedience have been disposed of, given as gifts to the spider queen!” Briza shouted to the crowd. This was their cue to cheer, of course, and they did, Maya beginning another blasted hymn of praise to Lolth. They lamented, only a little, the loss of the Elderboy, but he had always been a burden to the females of house Do’Urden, from weak stock, and he was better off a drider—all the sisters agreed.

“Will you give that one?” The Yochlol inquired this, knowing the answer to its own question. The corners of its melted candlewax mouth seemed to turn up a little with the strange, evil humor it shared in Briza’s mind.

“I will not,” she responded, “because he will serve Lolth under my roof as my weapons master.”

“And how,” the handmaiden chuckled, “do you propose to tame him where your mother could not? Do you dare ask for zin-carla?”

“Malice was weak,” Briza hissed, her voice magically enhanced to reach every ear, silencing the congregation. Zaknafein’s wraith had taken Drizzt’s hamstrings in the tunnels outside Menzoberranzan, but had been felled by the younger drow’s dual scimitars. Had it still been mobile, Malice’s death would have signaled its end as well. “I ask not for zin-karla, because I do not need it… I ask only for my blacksmiths to craft the finest pair of adamantine legs the city has ever seen.” Her ironic statement made the Yochlol chuckle, as it recognized that Drizzt would never see the city again, nor would it see him. Such was the way of the drow. Briza, meanwhile, gestured to Drizzt. “And, if he will not kill our people in service to our House and honor, he will teach others to do so and will not more shame Daermon N’a’shezbaernon with his blasphemy. I invoke my right as heir to Malice Do’Urden’s title to strip Drizzt of his name as my brother and regift it to him as weapons master, removable at my behest.”

Her eyes fell upon the blacksmiths of House Do’Urden, a pair of twin males, an anomaly and considered a blessing, had they been female. They were skilled, one at forging, the other at enchanting, but this was strange and perhaps beyond their abilities. If that was so, however, they did not let on and nodded solemnly, mumbling praises to the spider queen.

“Bring the sword,” she demanded. Vierna approached the dais soon after with a sword that Drizzt—who was just now coming out of the drug-induced stupor under which his sisters had placed him—recognized. In anticipation of the activities, the Yochlol’s tentacle receded from Briza’s shoulder to allow movement.

“Zak,” he mumbled weakly, bleary eyes focusing upon the blade which had once belonged to his master and father. The memory of Zaknafein defied his drow blood and heritage, crying out to be avenged, to be justified in his sacrifice. But what was this life without Zak, trapped once more in Menzoberranzan. The seclusion of the Underdark had driven him almost to madness, the Hunter within revealing itself to keep him alive, but to what end? His eyes snapped up to Briza, who now held the sword. “I will not serve Lolth and kill my people!”

“No,” she whispered almost sweetly, “you won’t kill drow… but you will serve the spider queen. Praises to Lolth! Blessings of the eight-legged goddess upon us all!”

Her shout came with the fall of the sword as she severed Drizzt’s legs just above the knee. She had drawn the ceremony out for this very purpose, so Drizzt would be conscious of his punishment, so he could feel the finely-sharpened blade slice through meat and bone and sinew with the ease. He did not cry out, however, biting back the urge to scream curses upon the spider queen. The Yochlol’s horrible, dark, empty eyes met Drizzt’s for a few moments as he once more lost consciousness. He could have sworn he saw laughter in those eyes, wicked, dark, evil laughter.

Maya and Vierna stepped forward to stem the flow of blood and toss the now-worthless legs onto the pile that had been Malice Do’Urden. No honorable tomb would be set aside for Malice. In her final years, she’d done naught but bring the disfavor of Lolth upon House Do’Urden and her remains would be, perhaps ironically, fed to the driders outside the city.

“Maybe Dinin will be among them,” Maya signaled to Vierna in the silent hand code of the drow. Vierna stifled a nasty laugh and returned to her place. They would be dismissed by the Yochlol and, if she would give it, her blessings upon their new matron mother. Briza held the title with or without the handmaiden’s declaration of it, of course; such was the way of the drow, but to be blessed into it was a much better way to begin one’s reign.

“Your sacrifices this day have indeed pleased the spider queen,” rumbled the Yochlol. “Go forth, therefore, Matron Mother of Daermon N’a’shezbaernon and take your rightful place among the ruling council. Know this, however, your daring has entertained Lolth but for the moment—if this male remains belligerent, her favor will fade.”

The beast receded into the braziers which blazed bright a moment and then went out entirely, plunging the chapel into utter darkness, as it had been before the assemblage. It was Maya who now led the cheers for her eldest sister. Briza would take them as her daughters, and now she was second in House Do’Urden, rather than third or fourth when the former Hun’ett matron had been masquerading as Malice’s eldest.

“All praise to the spider queen!” Briza’s response was both acknowledgement of the not-so-veiled threat and reminder from the handmaiden and part prompting for the throng to launch into one final hymn to Lolth as the top layer of the plinth upon which Drizzt was bound began to levitate and follow the new matron mother out of the chapel. Maya and Vierna followed, contemplating what this now meant.

The throng was struck by Briza’s boldness, but felt a strange, invigorating energy begin to flow through them. Too long had House Do’Urden been at odds with the spider queen and their coffers and morale were feeling the sting. Now, it was as if they—even the commoners—could feel Lolth’s favor laying upon them, fine as the strands of a spider’s web, seeping into their skin, wrapping about their hearts and bones, reminding them why they served her.

((So Drizzt’s legs are enchanted. He cannot leave the Do’Urden compound. Sort of a “well you didn’t want to and I KNOW I can’t force you, so now you cannot leave.” Briza takes him as her mate several times and he gives her five daughters, and two sons. After the second son, he will resist, fearing for the potential of a third. It matters not, however, because Briza has forced him to teach all her daughters his same techniques in battle and when the Time of Troubles comes, House Do’Urden is ready.))

[missrosiewolf]

I want…Maya to have an okay relationship with her dad and her brother

I want Maya to have sisterly-ish bonding moments with Vierna

I want Maya to argue with Drizzt over which makes the better pet: cat or spider

But most of all I want her to THRIVE QAQ

[missrosiewolf]

Idea:

A Maya lives AU where Maya decides to leave home to spread “have you met our Lady and Savior Lolth? :D” (not at all understanding that that might be a terrible idea) and ends up having multiple crisises of faith as she figures out how to navigate the surface and deal with the negative reputation of drow

And causing chaos all the while :>

And then ends up no longer worshipping Lolth

[missrosiewolf]

I think, in an AU where Maya lives, she should be ‘adopted’ by Vhaeraun

[missrosiewolf]

Saw the House Do’Urden family portrait and all I can say is Maya is giving such gremlin energy I love her

[missrosiewolf]

Me in Exile @ Maya: Oh no she died :< Me, thinking about fic ideas: Welp. Free real estate. I am adopting this gremlin