#the zurkhwood shadow

[dragongodryss]

The main Zurkhwood crew

Left to right: Ereldril, Lyn'Vic, Kelriina, Spirril and Queve

None of them really understand how clothes work, apparently. Everyone except Ereldril insists that they do.

Edit : It's 2. (Ereldril and Lyn'Vic). Kelriina is a lesbian, Spirril is bi and Queve is gay.

Heights: 176cm/5'9 (Ereldril), 149cm/4'10(Lyn'Vic), 166cm/5'5(Kelriina), 165cm/5'5 (Spirril), 157cm/5'2(Queve)

Classes:

Ereldril: Monk (Way of the drunken Master) (Level 5)

Lyn'Vic: Rogue (Assassin) (Level 9)

Kelriina: Bard (Blade) (Level 6)

Spirril: Rogue (Inquisitive) (Level 5)

Queve: Sorcerer (Curse) (Level 4)

Fun facts:

Ereldril is the only one who wholeheartedly follows Lolth.

Lyn'Vic would have liked to get into fashion, but no, he had to be an assassin.

Kelriina has slept with two different Matron Mothers.

Spirril had a happy childhood.

Queve's full/real name is Quavyraen. He doesn't use it for multiple reasons.

[dragongodshoard]

AITA for trying to kill my boss?

Hi. Good evening. I need advice and to know if I went too far.

Names changed for anonymity.

So I (102M) work at a bar. I am the only thing that keeps this place running (Minus Carpenter(216F). She built the thing but doesn't do much else.) Waiter (77M) messes up constantly, Bouncer (129F) spends her time bullying Waiter and Boss (276M) does the same, except he also tries to trick him into messing up.

Carpenter and I try to be patient with Waiter, because he isn't the sharpest knife in the armory, but we have our limits and tend to take our anger out on him. I know that it's Boss's fault and as such I try to make it up to Waiter after the fact. He's been understanding, but this couldn't go on. As such, Carpenter and I hatched a plan to depose Boss and Bouncer, and managed to get Waiter on board.

I thought it was going well. Carpenter and I were going to take over the bar and I was going to ask her out when we won. But on the day of the coup, Boss and Bouncer were expecting us. Waiter ratted us out.

Boss told Carpenter to close the bar and sat the four of us down. At this point I knew we were probably screwed. I was informed that Carpenter had been working with Boss the whole time, that this had been a test and I had failed miserably.

Before you ask, no, I was not fired. As mentioned, I'm the only reason customers even come here. My fucking blanket was taken away though. Fml.

Now Bouncer bullies me too. I thought I was done with that when Waiter was hired. I got to kick Waiter's ass though. Rat Bastard. Haven't spoken to Carpenter since then, and she hasn't made an effort to apologize to me.

I don't think I deserve to be treated like this. So Reddit, AITA?

Relevant Comments

Redditor1: Wow. Wtf. Why did you feel the need to do this?

Spirril: Boss was a whiny little bitch who thinks wasting my hard made drinks is a funny prank. Also he's insufferable. Bouncer used to bully me and up until I got ratted out, I thought she was on his side. Turns out she thought she was the boss.

Redditor1: Do you have more context on Carpenter and Waiter?

Spirril: Carpenter is friends with Boss and was testing me and Waiter. They were mad as hell that Waiter ratted me out, Boss was looking forward to having an excuse to kill him.

Redditor1: ESH except maybe waiter. Sounds like he did the smart thing.

Redditor2: ESH Boss and Bouncer for being POS, Carpenter for setting you up and you for mistreating Waiter and trying to commit murder.

Spirril: I don't mistreat Waiter. I'm the only one who bothers to look after him.

Redditor2: ¦but we have our limits and tend to take our anger out on him. ] I don't know, sounds like you do.

Spirril: FU!

Imagine an AITA for Whumppit (Reddit for Whump).

Imagine Caretakers (and Carewhumpers!) posting AITA whenever they fuck up with Whumpee. Like can you imagine a post that says:

"AITA for screaming at my Whumpee for being too clingy?"

What would your Caretakers/Carewhumpers post on AITA?

[vspin]

OC's as obscure references

Thanks for tagging me @elveskissing!!. Not gonna lie I struggled with some of these cause I wasn't sure if these were favorites or symbolic lol. Anyway here's what I came up with for Tav'Lyn 👀

ANIMAL: subterranean giant lizard

COLORS: Red, Black, Silver

MONTH: April

SONGS: Just have the playlist

NUMBER: 11

PLANTS: Amaryllis (pride), Zurkhwood

SMELLS: Amber, an earthy mushroom scent

GEMSTONE: Moonstone

TIME OF DAY: Sunset

SEASON: Spring, the season of rebirth. 

PLACES: Caverns and mountains

FOOD: Anything savory and decadent 

DRINKS: Wine, water

ELEMENT: Water

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Capricorn

SEASONINGS: I have no clue lmao

SKY: The clear nighttime sky

WEATHER: clear days with a slight breeze

MAGICAL POWER: Power of the divine. 

WEAPONS: Bastard Sword and mace

SOCIAL MEDIA: ??

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Smoky eyeliner and nail polish

CANDY: I’m not sure she’d like sweet things. Maybe something sour. 

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: No longer has her fav lizard :( So walking it is.

ART STYLE: Neoclassicism

FEAR: So many…Lolth, spending an eternity in the abyss, having to kill those she cares for

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Shadow dragons

PIECE OF STATIONERY: small leather journal

THREE EMOJIS: 🕸🌒🔗

CELESTIAL BODY: The moon

tagging: @mercymaker @scarletpath @jbnonsensework @mythrae @astarionposting @tadpole-apocalypse @kiaransalee @grandmother-goblin

[dragongodryss]

Alone (The Zurkhwood Shadow)

CW: Suicidal thoughts, Child abuse, Magical Whumpee + Whumpers. Beatings. Arachnophobia. Religious trauma. Implied multiple whumpers.

Once the others were gone, Luamice gingerly picked herself up off the bloodstained floor. She had barely sat up when her arm gave way and she slumped back down to the floor. Damn the poison! After the beating she had received, she was surprised that she was still conscious. Gritting her teeth despite her aching jaw, Luamice dragged herself to the nearest wall. She started to heal herself, resenting the crawling sensation of Lady Lolth’s magic. It was a gift, she knew, for a person as low ranking as herself to wield this power, to be a priestess. She could feel the poison wearing off, feel bones knitting back together. She hated it. Luamice wished she hadn’t bled so damn much. Cleaning this would be a nightmare. For a wizard, it would be easy. Not for the first time, she shakily left the chapel in search of cleaning supplies. She knew where they were, of course. She hadn’t hit her head, after all.

Luamice cursed the day she had caught the first priestess’ attention. Her mother had dragged her over when Luamice had made the mistake of healing her. It hadn’t been the first time she had used magic. She had been able to draw the life from people with but a touch. Back then, she hadn’t hated how her magic felt. It had been cool, sometimes bordering on icy, and she had liked it that way. But the priestesses hadn’t liked that. They had taken her from her family and locked her away, branding her a heretic for developing divine magic that wasn’t Lolth’s. Lady Lolth’s. Luamice didn’t know if or not the spiders that had flooded the room irregularly had been real or illusory. All she knew was every time she fought them off, every time the darkness in the room stilled, the first priestess would come. Every time, Luamice would be beaten between lectures on her heresy. And yet she still hadn’t been able to grasp it.

There, in that room that even her eyes, though accustomed to the dark, couldn’t witness, Luamice finally heard the voice of Lolth. Mayhaps ‘voice’ was too specific. But she certainly sensed the spider queen at long last.

After who knew how long, Luamice had stopped fighting. Perhaps the spiders were venomous. Perhaps if she lay still and let them consume her, her torment would end. She didn’t bother to heal the wounds from her last beating. If the spiders couldn’t kill her, maybe an infection would give her that mercy. If she was lucky, she would bleed out first, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She could feel the spiders crawling all over her, their tiny legs stabbing at her many wounds.

Heal. Barely aware, Luamice had followed the command. The cold familiarity of her magic failed to wash over her, instead the spiders seemed to grow in numbers. But then they were gone, leaving Luamice alone, fully healed. She was a priestess of Lolth’s now, whether she liked it or not.

That didn’t mean the other priestesses liked her, or even respected her. The whole house knew of the unspeakable origin of her magic. She was still as alone as she had been in that room, the crawling sensation crossing her skin every time she used her magic a constant reminder of that fact. How long had she been in there? She couldn’t say for certain. No one spoke to her long enough for her to ask. It had to have been over a decade, though likely less than two. She had grown up in that time, after all.

Luamice put the cleaning supplies away before leaving the compound. She needed a drink. Something strong, to kill off the lingering feeling of her magic.

[dragongodryss]

A search

Desperate Whumpee, multiple whumpers (but whumpee doesn't know it yet), Red flags (what are those), nonhuman whumpee and whumpers (+Kelriina)

Queve rapidly shuffled down the streets of Eastmyr, a little uncomfortable with how clean it seemed, at least compared to the Braeryn, the slums of Menzoberranzan. He didn't have an issue with cleanliness, in fact he preferred it, but he felt so grimy in comparison. Those not in a hurry threw him dirty looks, which turned to shock, fear or disgust when they caught a glimpse of the discolored skin hidden beneath his long fringes and baggy clothes.

Maybe he should go back. Beg Istyl to let him stay with him again, or at least for an explanation. Queve had lived with him for well over a decade, after all, and he felt he was at least owed that much. Not that he didn't have any suspicions as to why his friend had bidden him to leave. The magic boiled inside him, threatening to come out in an explosive burst. Queve ducked into an alleyway and leaned against a wall, sliding down to the floor and trying to calm himself. Don't feel. Feelings are for people that can control them. His magic liked to act up when he was upset, or on rarer occasions happy. Sometimes, it was harmless, others, ...well, not so much. When he had left Istyl's house, he had magically grown four inches. It had hurt like a bitch and he'd smacked his head on two different signs on the first day, which had hurt considerably less. Not that he was particularly tall now. He was about average, maybe slightly below, 5'2, for a drow man.

Regardless, this curse, likely born of the overexposure to Faerzress he'd suffered as a child (Istyl's theory), was why he couldn't find anyone who would hire him, let alone house him. Maybe he should go back to the Braeryn for now. No one wanted him here. Hells, no one wanted him there either, but at least that could be said for everyone. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten in a while, huh? Come to think of it, when was the last time he'd drunk? To long ago, if his parched throat was to be trusted. Narbondel's heat reached the top of the tower, indicating that it had been two days and six hours since he'd last slept. Wonderful.

The journey back to the nearest free water source would take forever if he went back the way he came, so Queve decided to risk a shortcut. He stood up, leaning on the wall for support, then trotted off towards the Braeryn.

The Braeryn was in sight, the place he was passing through was like a midpoint between the two. The buildings became more ramshackle and less sturdy as he got closer. When he was almost there, one building caught his eye, made entirely of Zurkhwood stalks, fairly new and hastily cobbled together. It looked more solid than most Braeryn architecture. Hesitantly, Queve took a look. It was a bar, by the looks of it, its name, 'The Zurkhwood Shadow', painted carefully above the door in glowing letters. He was about to turn away, tend to more urgent matters, when he noticed a sign, in those same letters, saying 'Help wanted'. What was one more try, one more rejection, in the long run? Never mind that he probably couldn't speak, even if he wanted to.

Carefully, he pushed away the curtain that covered the doorway, to find that whoever had built this place had actually bothered to put in a floor. Strangely fancy, so close to the Braeryn. The bar was nearly empty of customers, only one woman grumbling about poor service in one of the corners and two men apparently waiting to be served.

Three people were talking at the bar, angry whispers barely reaching Queve's ears.

"Well why don't you do it? All you're doing is standing around! Unless a brawl breaks out, that is." One of them, a tall man with long hair that ended in curls, suggested, his comment aimed at an enormously tall woman, covered in many scars. Not just defensive wounds either, Queve noted.

"Like I would lower myself so much as to serve food! Pah! What next, do you expect me to become a wizard?" She spat angrily. "I order you to do it." She slammed her hand on the bar for emphasis, towering over the man. The other woman, who was sitting on the bar, jumped.

"Would you terribly mind keeping it down?" She asked, largely directed at the other woman, who's voice had risen close to a shout.

"Then you do it."

"No. I already have two jobs."

"Spirals! Get back here, this conversation isn't over!" The tall woman shouted at the man, who had spotted Queve and approached him.

"You're going to scare away the customers, Ereldril, and my name is Spirril." He said slowly. "Please tell me you're here for the job." His orange eyes narrowed as he got a closer look at Queve, noting the discolored skin.

"I-I am." He rasped, voice cracked from lack of use. Ereldril strutted over to them, glaring down at Queve, who had to tilt his head all the way back to meet her gaze.

"Are you a mage?" She growled threateningly. Queve doubted he would have a job if he said yes.

"No." He answered. Ereldril pushed him to the ground, looking livid.

"Who gave you permission to talk to me as if I were your equal?" She snarled. Ironically, her anger made her accent more prominent, which made Queve certain that she too, was from the Braeryn. But she was also far bigger than him and apparently in charge, and this was the closest he'd come to finding a job.

"No one, ma'am. My apologies." This was far from his first apology, he seemed to have a knack for ending up in the way of anyone and everyone important who traversed the Braeryn, and he had the scars to prove it.

"Oi! Someone come get these from the kitchen while they're still hot!" Another man shouted from another room. Ereldril dragged him up with speed surprising for one of her stature and pushed him towards the voice. He stumbled into what turned out to be the kitchen, where a disgruntled man, about as tall as Queve's chin, stood. "Who are you?"

"I'm Queve... I-I think I just got hired?" He said. The chef seemed to accept that and thrust two trays in his hands, laden with food. The he shoved Queve out of the room with surprising strength. Queve stumbled out and went to the table where the two men where seated. "Is this your order?"

"What do you think, you moron?" One of them snapped.

"Kelyl, you saw him get hired. Less than a minute ago. Yes, this is our order." His companion said. They didn't look to be in much better shape than Queve.

Spirril waved him over to the bar while Ereldril sat in a chair behind the bar, the only chair that had a cushion on it. The other woman was still sitting on the bar, gently humming to herself. "Right, well, Ereldril says you're hired and none of the others seem to mind -no, don't sit on the chairs, those are for the customers. Anyway, my name is Spirril, Spirril Brewer, and these are Ereldril and Kelriina. The chef is called Lyn'Vic. Do you have a place to stay?"

"No."

"No sir." Spirril corrected.

"No sir."

"We all stay in the back room. There isn't a hammock there for you yet, but Kelriina will get around to that eventually. She built this whole place, you know." Spirril praised her, smiling in her direction. She gave him a brief smile back before going back to her humming.

"Thank you, sir." Queve said, trying to push back his tiredness as another customer entered the building.

[dragongodshoard]

Awesome

I made this and keep periodically forgetting I have it until someone talks about wanting more details about drow food so

here, have a google doc with compilations from various labeled sources about underdark/drow food

[dragongodryss]

Queve

Bro is a wet cat of a man.

[dragongodryss]

If I was a worm (The Zurkhwood Shadow)

Talfryn: Alyffyn?

Talfryn: Would you still love me if I were a worm?

Alyffyn: Of course, priestess.

-

Lyn'Vic: Would you guys love me if I was a worm?

Kelriina: No.

Ereldril: Why would we. None of us like you now.

Spirril: Actually, I'd like him better.

Queve: Depends. (He means no but doesn't want to get whumped)

-

Spirril: Kelriina? Would you still like me if I was a worm?

Ereldril: What gave you the impression she liked you?

Lyn'Vic: Ever?

Queve: It's because she's polite.

Kelriina: I wouldn't. I don't like worms.

-

Elaugyl: Would you like me more if I was a worm?

Talfryn: Considerably so.

-

Queve, after he accidentally shapeshifted into a worm (he had a nightmare and is buying time until it wears off): *small voice* Hey, bosses? Would you like me better if I did my job of if I was a worm?

Ereldril: Do we pay you to ask questions?

Spirril: Why would that ever be a relevant question?

Kelriina: Job.

[dragongodryss]

Kelriina: "I hope that guy leaves."

Ereldril: "We refuse the right to reserve service to anyone. Hey, you! Go tell that guy to piss off."

Queve: "What did he do?"

Ereldril: "Do we pay you to ask questions?"

Queve, who has never been paid: "no."

Lyn'Vic, being useful for once in his fucking life: "Why can't you do it? It's literally your job. And it's 'reserve the right to refuse'."

Ereldril: "Ooh, look at this fancy bitch right here. All educated and stuff. Go fuck yourself. I have problems with allegory, that's not a crime."

Kelriina: "You mean alliteration?"

Spirril, whispering to Kelriina: "I think she's just stupid."

Ereldril, with a Nat 20 on perception: "Got something to say, Spirals? Say it to my face."

Queve: "Hey, sir? The guy wants the casserole."

Lyn'Vic: "Good choice."

[dragongodryss]

OC story. Part 1

Part 2 has an implication of a conditioned whumpee in case you want to avoid it. Part 1 doesn't.

Those are the 2 canon parts so far. There's a lore posts and incorrect quotes under 'The Zurkhwood Shadow' tag as well.

It's a story about drow who run a bar in Menzoberranzan, but they all have trauma and most of them decide to be Whumpers about it. Then their pasts catch up to them and they do the whole character development thing. Most of them. Lyn'Vic is a dickhead.

what's a whump piece you're proud of but didn't get much attention?

I want to read and reblog whump writing that didn't get a lot of notes when it was posted.

doesn't have to be generic, OCs are okay. love whump of all genders. shorter pieces are best for me atm but whatever there are no rules, just ideally something that doesn't require an obscene amount of context or background knowledge/lore/plot.

please not at this time: pet whump/bbu, conditioned whumpee, heavy gore, mcd, noncon, emeto, fanfic. I love you, writers of these things, but I'm not your audience!

FYI/disclaimer: realistically, responses/reblogs won't happen immediately. pls be patient, I am but human. i probably won't respond to individual reblogs/comments, so:

ੈ✩‧₊˚ thank you kindly in advance for your awesome recs! ˚₊‧✩ੈ

reply or reblog with your shameless self-promotion?

[dragongodryss]

A sharp kick to the ribs awoke Queve, causing him to break into a coughing fit. Ereldril was looming over him, scowling.

"You're supposed to be working. Do you expect to live here for free?" She snarled, her speech slurring a little in her drunken stupor. How long had Queve been in his trance? It couldn't have been the full 4 hours, that much was certain.

"Sorry ma'am." He said, scrambling to his feet. Doing so, he put his weight on his broken finger, hissing in pain. His third day on the job was going swimmingly.

"Shut up or I'll give you something to scream about." Ereldril threatened. Rapidly, Queve apologized again. He staggered out to the bar to find that there were no customers to be served, only a woman drinking at the bar. Was he supposed to clean? He could ask Spirril, but Spirril didn't like questions. Ereldril hadn't left the bedroom, lying down in one of the bottom hammocks.

Queve went to the kitchen, asking Lyn'Vic where the cleaning supplies were. After a moment to surprise, Lyn'Vic smiled, showing sharp teeth before handing him a cloth and a large bottle of something. "Wash the floors with this."

It smelled sharp, bringing tears to Queve's eyes as he sniffed it. Must be strong. Hopefully that would make his job easier. He thanked Lyn'Vic for the help and went back into the bar, finding that the customer had left. Queve knelt down in the corner furthest from the bar, given that Kelriina and Spirril seemed to like him better when he wasn't near them.

He got to scrubbing, getting about halfway through the bottle when Spirril looked at him. Immediately, the bartender shot up and strode towards Queve, who froze. "What in the name of the abyss are you doing?" Spirril's cold tone made Queve recoil.

"I-I was cleaning. The floor..." He tried to explain frantically. Spirril reached out and grabbed at Queve's hair, but now that he was fed, Queve had the strength to dodge. Spirril predictably didn't like that. More determinedly, he reached again. Queve shuffled back until his back hit the wall. He didn't even know what he'd done to anger Spirril! Of course, he knew that some people didn't need a reason to act out. Moving would probably invite a worse punishment, but it was too late now.

He could escape if he wanted to. That made staying still even more agonizing. With what magic he could control, he could spirit himself away, but what other place would accept him? Running wasn't the issue, but what good would it do if Queve had nowhere to run.

Back when he was younger (pah. talking like an old man at 77. Istyl wouldn't let him hear the end of it. oh.), this would have been when he started crying. Not anymore. Crying only invited more pain, so he'd learned the hard way. Instead, he stared up helplessly at the furious bartender, unable to make a sound.

Roughly, Spirril grabbed a fistful of Queve's hair and dragged him upright. A small growl escaped Queve's lips, the alternative being a whimper. He hoped Spirril hadn't heard, but no such luck. "That isn't my issue here. Why are you wasting the alcohol I made?"

"...I'm sorry sir! I-I asked Lyn'Vic what I should use -and that's what he gave me! I'm sorry!" Queve hastily told him.

"Didn't you consider that this is clearly expensive? Special kind of stupid you are." Kelriina piped up, her words laced with magic. A flash of pain pulsed though Queve's head, but the pain came second to the panic at the realization the Kelriina was a mage. Did she know about him? She couldn't, right?

Spirril let go of Queve's hair in favor of grabbing his collar and forcing him into the nearest chair. Queve had thought he wasn't allowed on the chairs. Or was that just the bar stools? Worried, he looked up at Spirril, who already towered over him when they were both standing.

"Who even told you to clean?" Spirril asked. Queve pulled the cuffs of his sleeves lower onto his arms while he spoke.

"N-no one, sir... Ereldril woke me up and said something about not housing me for free, and then she went to bed. Since there were no customers, I-I thought she wanted me to clean. I figured that you and Kelriina don't like it when I bother you, so I asked Lyn'Vic. I'm sorry -I know Ereldril told me not to think. I'm sorry."

"Oi! You lot shut it. I can hear you talking about me." Ereldril shouted from the bedroom, and Queve heard her getting up. He hoped Spirril didn't see him trembling as they listened to her stomping out of the room. "Now care to repeat it with me in the room?"

Queve trembled but managed to stop himself from hiding behind Spirril (wow. who would have thought he had that much dignity left. certainly not him.). He didn't have his necklace, so he couldn't read her mind for something to get him out of the situation. It wasn't too late to disappear, be gone in the blink of an eye, Queve though self-loathingly.

"Mouthing off the moment I turn my back. Ungrateful wretch. You haven't even been here for three days and you think you're irreplacable? Let's see if you still feel that way after I'm done with you." Ereldril threatened, her heavy steps lightening as she stalked towards Queve. At this point, he knew better than to expect any of the others to intervene.

Her first hit caught him in the gut, taking him into the air with it. He landed on his side one the splintery floor. She grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall, making the whole building shake. "Watch it!" Kelriina shouted, as Lyn'Vic did the same from the kitchen.

Queve slid down onto the floor beside the spilled bottle as he felt his consciousness fading. Ereldril loomed over him, preparing for another hit, one Queve wasn't sure he could survive. But neither Spirril nor Kelriina were looking in his direction. He slammed his palm into the puddle of liquor, as though steadying himself, apparently unaware of the bouncer's approach. "*False Life*" He muttered. It sounded like gibberish to him, but he knew its meaning. He felt the magic covering his skin, coating it like a thick, slimy liquid, though to the others nothing was happening.

"Speak up. If you beg now, I'll go easy on you." Ereldril offered. From the corner of his eye, Queve saw Lyn'Vic smirking in the doorway.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to upset you... I was just trying to explain myself to Spirril. Please stop hurting me, ma'am, I'm sorry." Queve begged. Ereldril aimed a kick at him, hitting him in the shoulder. The impact sent him to the floor, soaking his shirt in liquor, but it didn't damage him. Ereldril scoffed and went back to bed.

"Lyn'Vic? Was this another one of your practical jokes?" Spirril asked when she had left. Lyn'Vic smiled.

"Guilty as charged, my friend. Thought you'd take the bait. Oh well, Ereldril was there to pick up your slack." The chef said. Spirril glared at him.

"That was perfectly good liquor!" Of course that was what he was upset about. Queve shifted to a sitting position, drawing the other two's attention. "You stop moving. Just lean against the wall, I'll deal with you later."

"It was pretty funny though, you have to admit." Lyn'Vic prompted.

"Go back to the kitchen." Spirril said dismissively, turning to Queve. Just then, a customer walked into the bar.

[dragongodryss]

You can't see red flags if you're to sleepy to see (Zurkhwood canon part 2)

[Part 1]

Queve can't see red flags. Spirril can tho.

CW: Non-sexual nudity, bathing, conditioned? whumpee, implied other whumpers (past), stabbing, magical whump, broken finger, carewhumper,

Queve served the new customers their food as the other three workers watched him. Ereldril was drinking a lot, to Kelriina's apparent disgust. Spirril didn't seem to care though. Now done, he walked up to the bar and asked Spirril for further instructions.

"Can't you figure anything out for yourself?" The bartender snapped.

"Sorry sir." Queve apologized. "I thought it would prevent misunderstandings."

"You thought? With an infection like yours, you'd be better off not thinking. Just do what you're told." Ereldril slurred, completely contradicting Spirril. Queve felt his shoulders sag. He knew that the magic had reached his mind, of course he did, -how else would it be connected to his emotions? but he didn't think he was that far gone. Or maybe he was. That would explain a lot of things. Maybe that was why Istyl had wanted him to leave. The poor man had enough on his plate already.

Apparently, he hadn't responded quickly enough, judging by how Ereldril flew from her chair and grabbed him by the neck, forcing him to bend backwards over the bar. He struggled for breath as she crushed his windpipe. Kelriina continued her humming, unbothered, while Spirril simply moved the labels he was making to the shelf. Queve could smell Ereldril's alcoholic breath and tried not to throw up as it upset his empty stomach.

"...m sorry, ma'am. I understand..." He rasped out before Ereldril threw him to the ground.

"Oi! When you guys are done, give me a refund. Your food tastes like shit." One of the customers shouted. Ereldril ordered him to go deal with it. He looked at the food.

"Pinch your nose while you eat and see if it helps." Queve suggested after throwing one glance at the food. He'd eat it, and none of the other customers had complained.

"Excuse you? How dare you?" The customer drew a sword. Queve rapidly turned to the others. Ereldril's job was to deal with this stuff, right? He didn't even understand what he had done wrong. Queve tried to swallow his fear, worried his magic would surge again just after he'd lied about not having any.

"Just don't kill him. I don't want us to have to hire someone else." Kelriina's voice cut loudly through the room. Ereldril looked like a spider that had had a fly placed in its net, intently watching him and the customer. The customer slammer him onto the table, grinning gleefully as Queve struggled, holding the sword to his face. Queve drew his knife, a tiny, blunt thing that had seen better days. Fueled by adrenaline, he used it to bat the sword away and almost managed to scramble away, but the customer grabbed him by the collar and lifted him into the air.

"Drop the knife, Queve. We don't pull weapons on customers." Spirril ordered casually. Against his better judgement, Queve forced himself to drop the knife. It wasn't as though he stood a chance anyway, and a few cuts and bruises weren't worth risking his housing over. He closed his eyes as it clattered to the floor. With his limited access to air and his poor condition, he could feel himself blacking out when the customer slammed him onto the table, gleefully slinging taunts at him that his head was spinning too much for him to understand. He went limp, hoping to avoid serious injury. If he couldn't work, he would be kicked out, and if this place didn't want him, no place would. He felt his magic surging and fought to suppress it, succeeding for the time being. He felt his fingers being bent back, terror rising in him when he remembered his job required holding things. Then he heard glass shatter and the customer speaking above Spirril's protests.

Queve couldn't make out what she was saying. He heard it before he felt it, the sound of his left pinky snapping. But then he did feel it. It took him a moment to register that the scream he heard was his, he was to focused on the surge of magic inside him, to powerful for him to suppress. He felt his jumper being pulled up and something stabbing into his back, repeatedly. He heard Ereldril tell the customer to cut it out. Blood pooled from his back before dripping onto the floor. Too much blood for such small wounds. That had to be what the surge had done. Thinned his blood. At least it wasn't too noticeable. It would take an expert to identify it as a magical ailment.

He felt his jumper being pulled down and tried to protest. It would get dirty. Dirtier than it already was anyway. His protests were met with a stinging slap to the face before he was hoisted up onto someone's back.

He was set down in something and quickly stripped before he heard flowing water. The cold brought him to clarity, making him realize he was in a tub. He eyed the elegant jug that seemed to hold infinite water that Spirril was holding over him. "Oh, good. You've finally snapped out of it. Use this, then put these on." He handed Queve a bar of soap and and placed some clothes on the floor. "You do know how to clean yourself?" He asked condescendingly when Queve paused. Queve hastily assured him that he did. "Then hurry up. I'm not touching your wounds until you're clean."

Queve hurried, making sure to be thorough, not wanting to give Spirril another reason to complain. He wished that Spirril wasn't watching, though. Spirril huffed irritably. "This isn't going anywhere, just stand up and use this to rinse yourself off." Queve realized that the blood from his wounds was tainting the water, making his effort pointless. At least he was done with his upper body. He struggled to his feet and took the jug from Spirril. His head was starting to spin and his stomach growled, but he persevered, even as the cold water enhanced his shivers. When he was almost done, he reached his limit and fell towards the ground. Spirril caught him before he could tip the tub over, threatening to make him clean it up if he spilled it.

When Queve had struggled into the trousers that Spirril had provided, Spirril made him lean over the side of the tub, facing the bloody water, as he examined his injuries. His nimble fingers probed the wounds, while Queve could only be thankful that the surge of magic had finally worn itself out. "Strange. You're bleeding far less." Spirril gave the wounds a quick wash before bandaging them up roughly. He grabbed Queve's arm and dragged him underneath one of the hammocks and threw him the shirt and a sheet, telling him to lie down when he'd put on the shirt. With that, he left the room, and Queve lay alone.

He wondered if the bathwater was safe to drink. It probably was. It was just blood and water after all. Maybe it would keep him going until he'd earned food. Slowly, he crawled to the tub, not having the strength to stand. He was about to drink when he was interrupted. "What in the name of the Abyss are you doing?" Spirril snapped. Queve recoiled.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I was thirsty. I'm so sorry." He apologized frantically. Spirril set something down and strode over to him.

"That's disgusting. And I believe I told you to lie down." He grabbed Queve by the arm and dragged him back to his sheet under the hammock. "You couldn't even be bothered to put the shirt on." He took Queve by the hair and shook him, prompting more desperate apologies amid cried of pain from the exhausted Queve.

Sighing, he dropped Queve and picked up the things he had set down. Queve's stomach sank when he realized that Spirril had brought food and water. If he'd been patient, he could have had a full stomach by now. Now he probably wouldn't get anything. To his shock, Spirril put the tray down beside him and glared at him. "If you're going to be picky about the food, I'm going to have Ereldril hit you. I don't care if or not she kills you." He said irritably. Queve's eyes widened.

"I can still have all of this? Even after I-" Queve clamped his mouth shut, worried he'd prompt Spirril to change his mind. Spirril looked at him in horror and Queve shrank back.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry sir!" Queve squeaked. Spirril sighed and grabbed the shirt, guiding Queve's arm into it and buttoning it up. Then he handed Queve the glass of water.

"I'll be back at some point. You'd better have eaten at least quarter of your food by then, and if I have even the slightest suspicion that you've touched the bathwater, there will be hell to pay." Spirril ordered, leaving Queve alone. Queve wolfed down the food, worried that Spirril would realize he'd forgotten something and come back sooner than anticipated. When he'd finished about a third of it, he paused to drink some of the water, trying to pace himself. Then he finished the rest of his food, as well as the water, ignoring the pain shooting through his finger.

He didn't have permission to sleep, but in his exhaustion, he fell into his trance.

Let me know if more CW's or tags are needed.

[Part 1]

[dragongodryss]

Queve art

The main protagonist/whumpee of 'The Zurkhwood Shadow'

He's the bar's only server, cleaner and errand boy. All of his bosses (whumpers) are dickheads, to a certain extent.

Queve's relationships with the rest of the cast.

Lyn'Vic: Chef (terrible at it, Queve is the only one who will continuously subject himself to his cooking, cause he's had worse)

He's also one of those 'It's just a prank bro' types. He pranks everyone except Kelriina, but his pranks involve destroying or damaging people's stuff and creating situations where Queve needs to do more work/risk getting injured. Because he's a sadistic asshole. No he will not pay Queve, he already provides him with a roof over his head. No Queve cannot take a day off due to the injuries Lyn'Vic and Ereldril cause. He's replaceable. Hell, he's got some weird infection too. Lyn'Vic is putting himself at risk to help Queve. Queve actually being comfortable for a few minutes? He thinks the fuck not.

Kelriina: Minstrel/Carpenter (Lazy as all hell.)

She ignores Queve, but she does derive amusement from his suffering. Occasionally, she'll manipulate things to put Queve in the path of an annoyed or bored Lyn'Vic or Ereldril, when things are getting boring. That aside, she wants a quiet life.

Ereldril: Bouncer (Drinks behind the bar when she's on duty)

The one most likely to injure Queve when he annoys her, or when she wants to hit something or whatever. Thinks he should sleep outside. He might be contagious. She'll order him, Lyn'Vic and Spirril around, but Queve is the only one who actually has to listen to her, Kelriina usually intervenes when it's one of the others.

Spirril: Bartender, Alcohol supplier (The only passable thing about this Lolthdamned bar. Seriously, Kelriina never plays her music, Ereldril is wasted on the job and also a huge bully, Lyn'Vic is a terrible chef and person, and Queve is overworked, ill, usually injured and has no idea what he's doing)

Spirril is a carewhumper in denial. He usually delegates (ie. pushes the things he doesn't want to do on) to Queve and shouts at him when he asks for instructions that make sense. He does provide instructions afterwards, which makes him Queve's favorite. He does the most to insure Queve gets basic necessities like food, baths, clean clothes, water, sleep, but that's mostly because he doesn't want to deal with the inconvenience it causes him. Eventually, it just became his job, which he is furious about. This makes him yell at and guilt trip Queve. At some point, he figures out that Queve imprinted on him and decides to use that to his advantage, becoming more of an intimate carewhumper. Queve is aware of this but doesn't really care.

Istyl: Braeryn born drow. (*Redacted for spoiler reasons*) (Caretaker (mid))

Queve's first love, doesn't reciprocate those feelings. Unusually caring (for a drow) towards Queve, at least until he made Queve leave. Queve knows the reason but is in denial about it and generally suppressing it.

Luamice: Low ranking priestess from a low ranking house (having a crisis of faith)

Becomes a regular at the Zurkhwood Shadow after befriending Queve. Also a whumpee but with different whumpers.

[dragongodryss]

Ereldril, *this fucking close to punching a bitch*: "Queve, why is it that I just stepped in a puddle of something."

Queve, tired of everyone's bullshit: "Spirril told to leave it."

Ereldril: "Spirals! What is the meaning of this?"

Spirril, sick of Lyn'Vic's bullshit specifically: "Lyn'Vic keeps spilling drinks and you won't do anything about it."

Kelriina, to Ereldril: "Have you tried this useful new invention called 'SHOES'?

[dragongodryss]

Reasons Spirril wants Lyn'Vic dead (2)

Ereldril: "Lyn'Vic, you son of an orc! Did you cut holes in my Lolth-damned leggings?!"

Lyn'Vic: "Cool, right?"

Kelriina: "I think so."

Ereldril: "Both of you can go fuck yourselves."

Lyn'Vic: "Bold of you to assume I can't get someone to do it for me."

Spirril: "You are not fucking in the bedroom again. The customers heard you last time!"

Kelriina: "And I had to reattach you and Spirril's hammocks when you were done. Why did you think doing it in a hammock was a good idea?"

Spirril: "And why over my hammock?"

Lyn'Vic: "Well, I doubt you or Ereldril are gonna volunteer yours. We'll do it on the floor this time."

Spirril: "Queve sleeps there!"

Customer: "Can I get some service here?"

Kelriina: "No."

Spirril: "Not the kind you're asking for."

[dragongodryss]

Incorrect conclusions Spirril bases his plans on (1)

Ereldril: "Lyn'Vic, your cooking tastes like wet dirt. Either make an effort or we'll replace you."

Spirril: *thinking* Ah. They are putting up a charade to keep us off balance.

Lyn'Vic, Kelriina and Queve: *thinking* Bold of you to assume you have any power here.