#rumunasin

[direwarg]

𝕯𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖓𝖊 !! twenty one + | she /they

#DIREWARG : hub blog. independent. multi muse, multi ship, multi fandom. semi selective. low to medium activity. novella scriptures. potential mature themes.

#SIDEBLOGS : winguhiro / oneeyes / rumunasin / istovharr / thestrongests / notrueheroes / shadoweavers / lastheros

MUSES ⚘ RULES ⚘ DISCORD

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

The Witcher stood relaxedly before the town's contract bulletin board, looking over the parchment and the details, along with the offered rewards. Seemed the neighboring woods had a good deal of local monster activity the town's folk wanted dealt with, before it spread further. Though they currently avoided him like he had the plague, keeping their distance and murmuring about him to one another. Not knowing through his enhanced senses he could hear every word from them, every insult and fearful observation. Maybe they were more content with the monsters for company... but it didn't seem like they were liable to try to drive him out of town... at least not yet. He would make what coin he could from the contracts and move on quickly, before they worked up the nerve to try. Even so, whether they liked him or not, based on the jobs, better a professional like him handle the contracts instead of some wannabe monster slayer, mercenary, bounty hunter or arrogant knight. Though those sort were probably the type of hunters they deserved.

He didn't expect the locals would be able to prove a threat to him, but remained on his guard all the same. He hadn't lived on the Path as long as he had by underestimating even the most seemingly humble of folk. It was then he became aware of another figure not far away, catching a scent and hearing a heartbeat... and he looked away from the board and to the source, studying the being. A white haired Drow beauty out in the sunlight of the surface... not a common sight, in these parts of the world. Almost as uncommon as the sight of him. There were some whispers from the town's folk about her as well. She didn't seem to be keeping her distance from him either, like most of them were. No reason he had to be rude to her, as the rest of the folk were liable to be. Wouldn't hurt to talk to somebody in a village or town for a change outside of those he had to interact with for his work. The mutant inclined his head and greeted her politely, viper eyes looking her over as his deep, calm voice washed over her, marred features smiling faintly.

"Evening, lady. Don't meet many Drow outside the Underdark. Haven't been there in awhile. Got business around here, like me, or just passing through? Ain't the most receptive town I've ever been in. Even by my standards."

@rumunasin

[rumunasin]

“ still me, despite everything. ”

before. → during. → after.

[rumunasin]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄    (  an  aesthetics  dash  game  based  upon  figures  from  arthurian  legend  )   —   repost ,    do  not  reblog .

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐲   :     midnight rituals.    looming shadows.    the feeling of being watched.    veils of mist.    unrequited love.    the musk of exotic herbs.    silk  &  velvet.   moonlight through twisted branches.    the beauty of a storm.    the weight of destiny  &  prophecy.    a chalice that might be poisoned.    healing hands.

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐭   :     a noble heart.   oaths of protection.   a quest for redemption.   heroic deeds.    pine.    fulfilling a role.    shining silver.   quiet fortitude.   selfless  dedication.   a bountiful feast.   war horses.   seeking a greater calling.    fatal mistakes.

𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧   :     whispered incantations.   ethereal light.   ages-old  secrets.   the spark of creation.    ancient disputes.    a hidden sanctuary.   the allure of the unknown.     finding balance between light  &  dark.   opportunism.   fear of unfulfilled potential .

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞   :     the grace of a queen.    jasmine.    unyielding faith.    the blush of a tender moment.    a golden crown.   poetic letters of affection.    the aroma of blooming roses.    the glow of candlelight.   a radiant smile.    lavender.    wise eyes.    eternal love.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫   :     unity,  at whatever cost.    an overwhelming presence.   battle cries.    noble sacrifice.    enduring legacy.    a grand vision for the future.    the balance between justice  &  mercy.

𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧   :     unwavering loyalty.    strength in humility.    the glow of a warm hearth.   old traditions.    chivalric valor.   a canopy of trees.    wisdom gained from trials.    being one's own worst enemy.   bearing a heavy conscience.    a sense of duty to protect the innocent.    hooves on a woodland path.    the scent of leather  &  steel.

[rumunasin]

“ you can never return home , stormbringer . ”

[ RUMUNASIN ] independent, semi selective, literate novella, forgotten realms / d&d / bg3 based, mature themes, MOL’LARA MIZZRYM !

a study in : leashing the storm within, a loveless mother, creating your own family, devouring your oppressors, defying fate, self fulfilling prophecies, being the chosen one.

direwarg : penned by daphne, 21 + | mdni, she/they, multi muse insta ( longclawed ), mol'lara insta ( rumunasin ), discord ( direwolved ), full information regarding mol'lara below the cut ( until i make her a carrd )

⠀[…]

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ omni luci est umbra.

⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀ DESIGNATION

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀birth name : mol’lara mizzrym

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀preferred name : lara

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀nickname(s) : stormbringer ; slayer

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀pronouns : she / her

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀titles : storm sorcerer

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀ PHYSICAL DATA

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀age / clockwork : 25 years old

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀stature : 5'0 ft | 152 cm

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀physique : thin, muscular

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀complexion : pale blue

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ethnicity : seldarine drow

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀nationality : underdark

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀tongues spoken : drowic | common tongue | undercommon | silent tongue

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀ PERSONAL DATA

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀morality : true neutral

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀mbti : intp ( logistician )

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀enneagram : 9w8

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀positive traits : persuasive, charming, assertive, intelligent, investigative, dedicated, thorough, confident, adventurous, witty

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀negative traits : insensitive, disconnected, impatient, harsh, blunt, manipulative, intimidating, tempermental, bossy, cocky, mischievous, pretentious, reckless, misandrist,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀neutral traits : curious, analytical, persistent, cunning, bold, sarcastic, fierce, tough,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀ RELATIONS

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀mother : akor’vrae mizzrym

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀father : unnamed male

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀patron god : n/a

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀significant other : n/a

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀companions : n/a

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀enemies : lolth-sworn drows ; absolutists

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀others : n/a

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀ STATS ( LVL 1 )

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀strength : 8

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀dexterity : 13

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀constitution : 15

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀intelligence : 12

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀wisdom : 10

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀charisma : 17

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ˖ ⠀⁄ ݁ ⠀BACKSTORY

MARKED AT BIRTH, CURSED WITH THE WRONG AMBITION. [ ¹ ] - * within drow society, it is ( eat or be eaten ). the strongest, smartest, most powerful thrive ; the weaker are lucky to just survive. this is especially true within lothite centered societies our dear protagonist ( LARA ) had the misfortune of being born into such society. [ ² ] --- * in the year 1468, a name was whispered into the world ( MOĽLARA MIZZRYM ). an odd looking creature, even for the underdark. especially for the high society. pale blue skin, a shimmer of white hair, one bright red eye ( and ) ... one blackened eye, one dark birth mark stretching across said eye. her mother, akor'vrae , had tried to end the childs inevitable suffering but, with every attempt, something ... ( strange ? ) would happen. lightning would pulsate from the babe, thunder from somewhere would shake the caverns. thunder, in a place with no atmosphere? MOL ’ LARA would live, she would thrive. akor'vrae would ensure it ; her daughter, her heir, was special. marked at birth for greatness, the all-powerful lolth had blessed her. [ ³ ] --- * mol'lara had no father, and her mother did not raise her. it was the servants who saw that the child grew, not that they done it out of the goodness of their hearts. akor'vrae paid the drow fairly ; as fairly as a high-born drow could be expected to be. by all means, mol'lara should have excelled. she was highly intelligent, her mother was a high priestess of lolth, and (ignore the / hideous / birth mark ) moľlara was beautiful. [ ⁴ ]_-- * nearly every night, mol'laras dreams were haunted. a figure whose face not could not ( *see* ) came to her. he whispered to her, said that she was far too powerful to spend her life in the dark. he taught her things that drow did not believe in ; he taught her goodness, he showed her the light. mol'lara wondered if he was her father. [ ⁵ ] -- * mol'lara asked her mother once ( & only once ) about her father. her mother was a woman of few words, and those few words tended to lean towards petty insults, but when mol'lara asked about her father, akor'vrae's red eyes alit with anger. the staff immediately cleared the room. akor'vrae said only one thing : "your father is dead and never mentioned him again, or there will be consequences." [ ⁶ ]---- * “ STORMBRINGER ; you bring thunder and shame where it does not belong." by now, mol'lara was 25 years old. very young for a drow, but old enough to ( know better ). it was time for her oath ; time to swear herself to lolth. her entire life was leading to this moment. her eventually servitude for the spider queen had been mol'lara's only saving grace. her powers were unnatural, and uncontrollable. her face was scarred. yet, akor'vrae insisted that lolth would guide her only daughter. the people believed her (* or so they said *). but, mol'lara had no interest in lolth. mol'lara was not a cruel being ; she was almost ( kind ). so, therefore, she was ( *weak* ) mol'lara was unsure of where this unseemly weakness came from; but it plagued her. her dreamscape visitor had cursed her, and now it was time to reap what one sows. [ ⁷ ] ---= * being shunned from society is a scary thing ; even worse was being shunned in a place as dark and scary as the underdark. mol'lara left with nothing but a set of clothes, an empty backpack, and a dagger that she had stole from her own mother. all that akor'vrae had only one thing to say: “ you can never return home, stormbringer. ” had not even said her name ; which akor'vrae had always said was beautiful. and so mol'lara ( STORMBRINGER ) had left. she cut off her long, intricate braid ; left the hair on her mother's pillow. a warning ? an omen ? who knew. the only reason mol'lara had been free to walk was not out of mercy, but rather a fear of the unknown. the people feared she would curse them all; perhaps she would tear down the city with her demon powers. [ ⁸ ] ----- mol'lara was dead; lara was born.

[direwarg]

“ weren't we the stars in heaven ? ”

[ DIREWARG ] hub blog, fantasy / historic / shonen enthusiast, college student, avid reader, aspiring author, all presented by DAPHNE!

side blogs : hawks, winguhiro / bnha canon multi - muse notrueheroes / bnha oc multi - muse, shadoweavers / gojo satoru, thestrongests / fantasy oc, rumunasin / jon snow, lastheros

rules / literate novella roleplaying / 18 + | MDNI / multi fandom / multi muse insta - LONGCLAWED / discord - DIREWOLVED

[rumunasin]

Mol'lara tilted her head slightly, her white hair catching the sunlight in a way that contrasted sharply with her periwinkle skin. Her mismatched eyes, one red and one black, regarded the man with a mix of curiosity and wariness. She had grown accustomed to the stares and whispers of townsfolk, but the sight of another outcast piqued her interest. An outcast, one so humanoid, was likely to mean trouble. Humans were usually so respected and so revered, after all. Though, Mol'lara was quite the misadventurer, wnd quite enjoyed the company of the outcasts and feared.

"Evening, sir. You have a keen eye, though I don't find myself visiting the Underdark too often these days either. It's such a dreary place." Her voice was smooth and steady as she spoke; just a hint of the drowic accent lingering beneath the surface, "I'm here on business, just as you seem to be."

She glanced back at the contract board, noting the details of the various monster problems. There were posters of missing people, some where presumably unfortunate bystanders but some were young folk chasing the dream and glory of monster hunting and city saving. "These people are as welcoming as a nest of vipers, but their problems are just as venomous." Mol'lara turned her body to fully face the man as she spoke again.

She took in his full, rugged appearance. This was obviously someone who lived as dangerously as she did, or perhaps even more dangerous. The thought of that enticed Mol'lara, she was ever the thrill seeker. But, his appearance was not quite what Mol'lara was looking at. There were other adventurers in the small town, some looked arguably more scary than this handsome stranger. Yet, they avoided him as they avoided her.

"Why are they so afraid of you?" Mol'lara tilted her head to the side as she asked the question, her arms crossing over her chest.

The Witcher stood relaxedly before the town's contract bulletin board, looking over the parchment and the details, along with the offered rewards. Seemed the neighboring woods had a good deal of local monster activity the town's folk wanted dealt with, before it spread further. Though they currently avoided him like he had the plague, keeping their distance and murmuring about him to one another. Not knowing through his enhanced senses he could hear every word from them, every insult and fearful observation. Maybe they were more content with the monsters for company... but it didn't seem like they were liable to try to drive him out of town... at least not yet. He would make what coin he could from the contracts and move on quickly, before they worked up the nerve to try. Even so, whether they liked him or not, based on the jobs, better a professional like him handle the contracts instead of some wannabe monster slayer, mercenary, bounty hunter or arrogant knight. Though those sort were probably the type of hunters they deserved.

He didn't expect the locals would be able to prove a threat to him, but remained on his guard all the same. He hadn't lived on the Path as long as he had by underestimating even the most seemingly humble of folk. It was then he became aware of another figure not far away, catching a scent and hearing a heartbeat... and he looked away from the board and to the source, studying the being. A white haired Drow beauty out in the sunlight of the surface... not a common sight, in these parts of the world. Almost as uncommon as the sight of him. There were some whispers from the town's folk about her as well. She didn't seem to be keeping her distance from him either, like most of them were. No reason he had to be rude to her, as the rest of the folk were liable to be. Wouldn't hurt to talk to somebody in a village or town for a change outside of those he had to interact with for his work. The mutant inclined his head and greeted her politely, viper eyes looking her over as his deep, calm voice washed over her, marred features smiling faintly.

"Evening, lady. Don't meet many Drow outside the Underdark. Haven't been there in awhile. Got business around here, like me, or just passing through? Ain't the most receptive town I've ever been in. Even by my standards."

@rumunasin

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Well, from what I've seen of this town so far, you were probably better off even down there. But with someone like me here, I'm sure they won't look twice at you in a bad way, by comparison. Though if they have good taste, they would certainly look twice at you."

Eskel's deep, calm voice returned gradually with some grim amusement, plucking a few of the more interesting, and well paying, contracts off the bulletin board and examining them. One involving a Lich occupying a crypt not far away... another involving Slyzard preying on cattle in nearby fields... and another involving a band of Goblins led by a Hobgoblin occupying a cavern who were preying on merchant caravans passing through this town and neighboring ones. No shortage of work and trouble to be found here, at least. A welcome change of pace... assuming they were good for their word and paid up. Did not force him to take the gold from them, when the jobs were done. At her observation and question, the Witcher's mutilated visage smirked faintly in the direction of the onlookers, uttering a slight chuckle and shaking his head, folding up the contracts and tucking them into one of his pouches. Folding his arms comfortably over his silver spike and stud covered, armored coat. Remaining entirely at ease, his viper eyes looked between them and her, keeping their positions marked in his senses, but gladly paying the alluring Drow woman more attention, speaking up again. Studying her intriguing red and black gaze.

"Could be that I'm a mutant. Could be my face. Could be that I'm an outsider. Probably all three. Not that most folk ever needed much of an excuse to fear others. I'm what humans call a Witcher, sort of a professional monster hunter and occult detective. Guildsman. Folk tend to hate having to rely on things like me to solve their problems for them. Especially the superstitious sort. Half scared I'll steal their children for payment, or ravage their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters to sate my demonic, lustful appetite. Just here for the coin, ale and supplies, but try telling them that. Nothing I ain't used to. Story of my life. Been doing this longer than any of them have been alive. What kind of business has brought you, if it ain't too intrusive? My sort, or your own sort?"

@rumunasin

The Witcher stood relaxedly before the town's contract bulletin board, looking over the parchment and the details, along with the offered rewards. Seemed the neighboring woods had a good deal of local monster activity the town's folk wanted dealt with, before it spread further. Though they currently avoided him like he had the plague, keeping their distance and murmuring about him to one another. Not knowing through his enhanced senses he could hear every word from them, every insult and fearful observation. Maybe they were more content with the monsters for company... but it didn't seem like they were liable to try to drive him out of town... at least not yet. He would make what coin he could from the contracts and move on quickly, before they worked up the nerve to try. Even so, whether they liked him or not, based on the jobs, better a professional like him handle the contracts instead of some wannabe monster slayer, mercenary, bounty hunter or arrogant knight. Though those sort were probably the type of hunters they deserved.

He didn't expect the locals would be able to prove a threat to him, but remained on his guard all the same. He hadn't lived on the Path as long as he had by underestimating even the most seemingly humble of folk. It was then he became aware of another figure not far away, catching a scent and hearing a heartbeat... and he looked away from the board and to the source, studying the being. A white haired Drow beauty out in the sunlight of the surface... not a common sight, in these parts of the world. Almost as uncommon as the sight of him. There were some whispers from the town's folk about her as well. She didn't seem to be keeping her distance from him either, like most of them were. No reason he had to be rude to her, as the rest of the folk were liable to be. Wouldn't hurt to talk to somebody in a village or town for a change outside of those he had to interact with for his work. The mutant inclined his head and greeted her politely, viper eyes looking her over as his deep, calm voice washed over her, marred features smiling faintly.

"Evening, lady. Don't meet many Drow outside the Underdark. Haven't been there in awhile. Got business around here, like me, or just passing through? Ain't the most receptive town I've ever been in. Even by my standards."

@rumunasin