#waela

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ More Drow Phrases and Sayings

More phrases in drow language, this time from Drow of the Underdark (2e) - some common curses, battle cries and sayings useful mainly for Lolth-sworn drow:

🕷️ Ssussun pholor dos! - Light upon you! (curse, spoken to another drow)

🕷️ Ssussun! - Light! (curse, a shortened version of Ssussun pholor dos)

🕷️ Oloth plynn dos! - Darkness take you! (curse, spoken to a non-drow / surfacer)

🕷️ [House name] ulu usstan! - [House name] to me! (to rally comrades in battle)

🕷️ [House name] ultrin! - [House name] supreme! (battle cry)

Common sayings:

🕷️ Jal khaless zhah waela - All trust is foolish

🕷️ Oloth zhah tuth abbil lueth ogglin - Darkness is both friend and enemy

🕷️ Xun izil dos phuul quarthen, lueth dro - Do as you are ordered, and live

🕷️ Lolth tlu malla; jal ultrinnan zhah xundus - Lolth be praised; all victory is her doing

🕷️ Ilharessen zhaunil alurl - [Matron] Mothers know best

🕷️ Lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss - The best knife is the unseen one

🕷️ Lil waela lueth waela ragar brorna - lueth wund nind, kyorlin elghinn - The foolish and unwary find surprises - and among them, waiting death (waela can mean either "foolish" or "unwary", so maybe the meaning depends on pronunciation?)

🕷️ Khaless nau uss mzild taga dosstan - Trust no one more than yourself

🕷️ Nindyn vel'uss kyorl nind ratha thalra elghinn dal lil alust - Those who watch their backs meet death from the front

🕷️ Ulu z'hin maglust dal Qu'ellar lueth Valsharess zhah ulu z'hin wund lil phalar - To walk apart from House and Queen [Lolth] is to walk into the grave

🕷️ Kyorl jal bauth, kyone, lueth lil Quarvalsharess xal belbau dos lil belbol del elendar dro - Watch all about, warily, and the Goddess [Lolth] may give you the gift of continued life

🕷️ Vel'uss zhaun alur taga lil Quarvalsharess? - Who knows better than the Goddess [Lolth]?

Many of these sayings sound more like warnings against making deadly mistakes (from the point of view of an average Lolth-sworn drow): rejecting Lolth, rejecting the House, disobeying someone of higher station, lacking caution, lacking common sense and trusting someone.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[optiwashere]

minthara/lae'zel A4!

This prompt might have been made with this ship in mind... Thank you so much for requesting this one! 💜

You can send a prompt from this list + a ship or platonic pair, and I'll write a ficlet!

---

A4. Teaching one another their language(s)

Standing on the battlement of the High Hall's curtain wall, Minthara leaned between the shattered merlons and rested her weight on tired arms. She surveyed the destruction of Baldur's Gate. So much potential lost, so many souls burned away who might have been useful for something more than dragonfire fodder.

All without even a throne to lay claim to in the end. The power of the Netherbrain had been denied by their foolish leader, and Minthara had no intentions of joining their victory parade down in the streets. Not while she had another waiting on her.

Eyes closed in meditation, legs crossed beneath her, Lae'zel murmured. She said words that Minthara knew to be gith, but she barely understood more than a smattering of ideas and phrases.

"To whom do you now pray?" asked Minthara, her voice carrying on the quiet evening's air.

"It is not a prayer. It is rectification of an old lie," Lae'zel corrected. "It's an old githyanki hymn. A mantra we believed to be passed down from Mother Gith herself."

"Share it with me."

"Taking an interest in more advanced cultures, drow?"

"I know a little of the gith," Minthara explained, "but I know even less of what you hold dear about your people." She turned to lean against the embrasure, watching Lae'zel's eyes scan her. "Come. Speak it with the verve and strength I expect from you."

With that, Lae'zel slowly repeated a string of harsh consonants that Minthara learned to expect from the language. Minthara caught a particular rhythm that felt like stanzas, and she heard what might have been called a rhyming scheme.

It was a jagged series of sounds, sharp and angry. A curved sword on Lae'zel's tongue.

"It is beautiful," Minthara whispered. "And it means?"

"Live, but only if you live free. Die so as to remain standing." Lae'zel spoke slowly with reverence. Then, her voice became darker, and her wide eyes slitted into lines. "Fire in the skies, blood in the water. Look to the spirit, turn from sensation."

"I take it the last few lines were a rather recent addition."

"They're Vlaakith's words, and I wonder why it is I trusted them."

Minthara chuckled. "There's a saying in drowic that you might like, then."

Lae'zel merely stared at her.

"Jal khaless zhah waela," Minthara said while she unbuckled her gauntlet straps. Tossing aside her gauntlets, she continued. "All trust is foolish, literally. Or to most drow, paranoia and fear are your greatest allies. Curious how Lolth and Vlaakith both demand such things from their children."

"It is almost as if these goddesses forget who gives them power," growled Lae'zel as she stood to her feet.

"As if the words we were taught to speak were pointed, intentional shackles on our ambition." Minthara approached her, heat burning in her chest. "On what we are owed."

Lae'zel's small nose flared and her pupils darted about, searching Minthara's face. Her breaths accelerated. Her fingers curled into her palms.

"My," said Minthara, "you are so easily moved."

"Whenever you speak, my heart listens enraptured." Lae'zel rested her hand on Minthara's waist. "I become dust that flows in the storm of your words."

"And when you crumble for me," Minthara breathed, gripping Lae'zel's hips until her fingers dug into flesh, "I yearn to put you back together."

[catdotjpeg]

"On the third day of the war, while I was working at the emergency unit in Nasser Hospital, I discovered my sister had been killed with her husband and children," [Mahmud al-Astal] said. Those strikes razed entire buildings, including one where Astal's 40-year-old sister Sadafah died alongside her husband Hussein, also 40, and their children Fadwa, Azar, Ahmad and Suleiman, aged between six and 13. "Ever since my sister was killed... the nightmares don't leave me..." Astal said. "My children dream of travelling one day. Now I don't know if they will come out of this war alive." Despite the tragedy, he is determined to continue his vital work. "We have no other choice but to work and serve the injured to save them." [...] [Respiratory] physician Raed [al-Astal] was at the hospital on Monday when he received a panicked call from his wife saying a strike had hit the building opposite theirs. He hurried to the emergency unit where the victims had been taken, and found his relatives were among the dead. "My aunt, her husband and their children as well as my cousin's wife were killed," he said. "The stench of death is everywhere, in every neighbourhood, every street and every house."

-- "Medics discover with horror relatives among Gaza dead" by Khan Yunis for AFP, 28 Oct 2023 (Content warning: descriptions of the dead bodies in link)

On 26 October, the Palestinian Ministry of Health released the list of names of Palestinians killed since 7 October. Among them, from the al-Astal family, are:

Aisha Khalil Hamdan (72); 

Wahba Abdullah Hussein (65); 

Ibrahim Hamid Hussein (62) and his children Afnan Ibrahim Hamid (33) and Ibtihal Ibrahim Hamid (24);

Muhammad Suleiman Turki (61) and his children Samar Muhammad Suleiman (32), Usama Muhammad Suleiman (24), Hisham Muhammad Suleiman (23), Samah Muhammad Suleiman (19), and Sarah Muhammad Suleiman (17);

Nadia Yassin Hussein (60);

Salwa Muhammad Khalil (60); 

Hanaa Ibrahim Naeem (59);

Suleiman Muhammad Suleiman (58); 

Yousry Ahmed Youssef (55);

Shafiqa Shehadeh Bahri (54);

Anwar Muhammad Ali (54) and his children Bilal Anwar Muhammad (19) and Safiya Anwar Muhammad (39);

Waela Ahmed Mustafa (51) and her sibling Wejdan Ahmed Mustafa (46);

and their brother Wael Ahmed Mustafa (49) and his children Ahmed Wael Ahmed (16), Zain Wael Ahmed (14), Haya Wael Ahmed (12), Muhammad Wael Ahmed (9), Hamza Wael Ahmed (3), and Salim Wael Ahmed (less than a year old);

Marwa Youssef Muhammad (48);

Abdullah Musa Muhammad (48) and his child Hayat Abdullah Musa (6);

Raafat Abdel Karim Mustafa (47) and his children Sham Raafat Abdel Karim (24), Dania Raafat Abdel Karim (17), Rahaf and Abdel Karim Raafat Abdel Karim (11), and Ahmed Raafat Abdel Karim (9);

Ramzi Abdel Karim Mustafa (45) and his children Muhammad Ramzi Abdel Karim (17) and Karim Ramzi Abdel Karim (11);

Suhair Ahmed Ahmed (44);

Muhammad Kamal Muhammad (44);

Nidaa Abdel Hamid Saeed (43); 

Ola Tawfiq Abdel Qader (41); 

Sadafah Suleiman Uthman (39); 

Hussein Ahmed Omar (38) and his children Fadwa Hussein Ahmed (13), Ahmed Hussein Ahmed (12), Suleiman Hussein Ahmed (8), Hazar Hussein Ahmed (6), and Elaf Hussein Ahmed (2);

Hisham Hussein Yassin (37) and his children Riad Hisham Hussein (13) and Layan Hisham Hussein (10);

Zakaria Ali Ayesh (73) and his children Alaa Zakaria Ali (36), Amal Zakaria Ali (24), and Munib Zakaria Ali (28);

his son Muhammad Zakaria Ali (38) and his children Jana Muhammad Zakaria (14), Raghad Muhammad Zakaria (12), Lana Muhammad Zakaria (10), and Ali Muhammad Zakaria (3);

his son Omar Zakaria Ali (31) and his children Riman Omar Zakaria (4) and Amir Omar Zakaria (1);

and his son Abdullah Zakaria Ali (34) and his sons Yamen Abdullah Zakaria (7), Rayan Abdullah Zakaria (less than a year old), and Zakaria Abdullah Zakaria (2);

Muhammad Abdel Majeed Ali (34);

Amamah Abdel Nasser Suleiman (34) and her siblings Hafsa Nasser Suleiman (24), Muhammad Nasser Suleiman (22), Sarah Nasser Suleiman (19), Fatima Nasser Suleiman (15), and Wiam Nasser Suleiman (11);

and their brother Hamza Nasser Suleiman (26) and his daughter Marwa Hamza Nasser (1);

Muhammad Amin Ahmed (33);

Majid Ali Hamid (28);

Khalil Omar Muhammad (27);

Magda Muhammad Abdel Majeed (22);

Muhammad Mahmoud Ahmed (22) and his sister Abeer Mahmoud Ahmed (16);

Rakan Khaled Muhammad (20); 

Abdul Rahman Muhammad Ahmed (17);

Ahmed Khaled Ibrahim (17);

Muhammad Ali Zakaria (15) and his siblings Zakaria Ali Zakaria (14) and Majd Ali Zakaria (10);

Sama Salim Yassin (11) and her sister Roua Salim Yassin (2);

Joud Hamid Nasser (4) and their sister Janan Hamid Nasser (1);

Joan Yahya Youssef (4) and her infant brother Mian Yahya Youssef;

Asmaa Ahmed Muhammad;

Ismail Mohieddin Ismail (10);

Ayesh Musab Ibrahim (4);

Muhammad Mahmoud Hamdan (29);

and Wafa Abdel Qader Ahmed (24).

You can read more about the human lives lost in Palestine on the Martyrs of Gaza Twitter account and on my blog.

[refabled]

@spiderwarden : ❝ oh, come off. " tone is gentle despite the contradiction in her words, tears were always a vile subject - why sit in self pity and shed grief when one can pick up a sword and strike down that which inspired the distress. there is a huff when she notices the way that fable suppresses her noises of distress and she stares at her. leans forward just slightly, ❝ karlach is fine- see- ❞ there's a gesture toward where the tiefling returned to her tent. ❝ -good as new - there is no need to sit there and air out your grievances. ❞ then minthara straightens, looks forward again. tries to focus elsewhere, yet is unable to help as her eye draws back to their leader, watching her - and watching her, ❝ waela abban... ❞ comes the mutter, before the drow turns and reaches into her pack - she's shifting for a moment, two. then drags out a spider silk cloth and lifts it up toward fable. wiggles it if she takes too long to accept it, ❝ go on, go to her and give her a hug. ❞ then before she turns away, ❝" and stop weeping. ❞

❝ no, I know, I know- ❞ fable sniffled; gods, she sounded pathetic, even to her own ears. she couldn't imagine what minthara was thinking as she struggled to keep the wobble out of her voice. she'd made such a big stink about convincing the drow that she wasn't as soft as she seemed, and now here fable was, practically sobbing over karlach's brief death. ❝ I–– ❞ she couldn't even protest. the urge to hug their fiery friend was compulsive. she was gone for several minutes before returning, eyes reddened and face flushed.

she held minthara's silk cloth between her hands. ❝ thank you, ❞ fable murmured, settling down beside her. ❝ I needed that. ❞ a swipe over her cheek had her laughing, a little embarrassed. ❝ I don't... normally cry like that. I don't know what got into me. karlach's just so... loud. seeing her like that? it unsettled me, I guess. some people feel bigger than death, I suppose. ❞

SPONTANEOUS ASKS : always accepting.

[askuhtredragnarson]

"Let this be the last time Alfred has crossed you." I cup his cheek. " I have urged Osferth to go into Waelas with the children if we are not home in a forthnight, Lord. If nothing else, the boy will not be found."

Uhtred nods. "Good thinking, Tessa. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. We have to protect the boy at all costs...he's the future."

[arachling2]

ˊ 🕸️ @folksimar

A veil of secrecy envelops him, no armor had proven itself to be more impenetrable than the carefully articulated cuirass of enigmatic presence. He could feel, once in a while, a pair of celestial eyes curiously crawling along the black lines of his patterned skin, pondering their intricate designs in wonder yet finding no suitable answer in response. He liked it that way. The less known he was to others, the greater the edge he could maintain. ' Jal khaless zhah waela '. A creed kept close, like the knife under his pillow.

❛ I know little of the mountain pass, but the 𝖴𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 in this area shouldn't be that difficult to traverse. Most 𝖫𝗈𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌 reside in the Middledark & below, I doubt we'd be brushing shoulders with any of the cities worth noting. ❜ He crosses his arms over his chest & allows his back to rest against the wall. ❛ I prefer my chances with an angry spectator over an entire 𝖦𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂 𝖢𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖾, if it's all the same to you. ❜

[mrsarnasdelicious]

I cup his cheek for a chaste kiss. "I intend to see you again soon, Osferth. But if I am not back within two weeks, send Jari after me, take the rest of the children and hide. Go into Waelas, if you must. Do not let them find Aethelstan."

“Lady!!”

“Lady?!”

Osferth’s arrival in Coccham had been chaotic to him, traveling mostly day and night in haste, anxious to make his presence known quickly and relay the message to Sihtric’s wife. Thankfully, the village of Coccham was its normal, calm atmosphere… no sign of any of Alfred’s men occupying it yet.

Osferth barges into the hall, still looking for her.

“Tessa?!”

Osferth @thebabymonk868

I look up from the accounts. Most of the stores are filled and the animals penned close to the village. "Osferth.. Gods.." I stand up at once. "First Hild and Revna leave and now you return. Plots within plots, is it not."

I go over to him, telling a serving girl to bring him a drink and food at once. "Tell me, what must be done?" I put my hand on his shoulder.

[waela-lavellan]

More of my baby <3 first one is my fave shes so fuckin’ cuTE SHE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS (partially cause she’s range anyways)

also bonus angry Waela

[elvensemi]

hey I'm on your ks discord but way too shy to not say this on anon but, I've finally gotten around to reading some of your original stuff (working on the beg series if that's what you're calling it) and its! so! good! yall hit like all my exact kinks in one go thanks

Ayyyy that’s what we’re here to do! For, uh! Like a handful of really specific people, anyway! But those people deserve it. |D 

I know I always say this, but I really appreciate anyone who reads ANY of my original stuff. I really should get something into an ebook format one of these days. 

[shift-shaping]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD ♡✧( ु•⌄• ) once you get this award, you're supposed to paste it in the ask box of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it's nice to know that someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out ❤ ( ◜◒◝ )♡ (you dont have to pass on or answer but just wanna let you know you cute)

:OOO thank you yes you are beautiful too!!!

[n1ghtwarden]

" he is a man. " comes her voice, flat and monotone - a look of disgust muddling her features at the warm response to what the night warden knows is tepid praise - neither genuine or cold; a clinical assessment of what she has seen so far - the raw, untapped power valeryana has honed throughout diligent years of study, channeled through will and scrolls and books; the near misses, the danger that such magic carried with it - she'd seen armies decimated in flames; and the wizard that had cast the spell burning up alongside them. magic - it is a man's position; a man's attempt at power -- and perhaps valeryana has done herself a disservice by committing herself to the workings of the weave instead of a blade; and a scoff follows, chin held haughtily high. " i will never give a compliment that has not been earned - but i am not so foolish as to insult my host. "

battle-hardened she may be, the night warden is not inept of social graces - a born player of the game; a weaver of the web that binds them all; no room for fatal errors or small mistakes above or below. still, her expression gives her away where her words would not - something she had never been able to master despite her mother's admonishment, despite the discipline she prided herself upon on - lip curling at the jest; the way valeryana gestures so grandly, and irritation bites at her - its familiar heat crawling up her neck to settle in the base of her skull.

" do not mock me, waela ligrr. xunus dos sevir dosst shar rathrea xuil l'ilithids? " her own voice is clipped; sharp. it may not have been the wizard's intent, no; but the effects are felt all the same, and a scowl darkens her features - brow furrowing as red, red eyes examine her - her slight stature, the trace of red around her irises. odd. " you are not so worthy as you are useful - as all of us must be if we are to succeed in our venture. any flaw within our party may not only spell our end, but the end of this world in its entirety. " then? she would never find her retribution - never make the dead three scream as she had. they would succeed. they had to.

a breath rattles her body - the line of her shoulders rigid; unyielding - and the night warden steps back to the comfort of her own tent, her spaces, her things - meagre as they are; whatever she has left, watching valeryana warily as she listens to her -- do all wizards insist upon wasting air with such needless, constant prattling? what she would not give for a moment of rest -- even if she had not earned it. her mind, shattered beyond belief - a wreck, much like her life; dismantled and destroyed, never to be salvaged again. her lips press together into a sharp, thin line; red, red eyes glancing at valeryana for a moment; unwavering.

" i do not wish to speak of it, not yet - at the very least. " it is all she will say on the matter for now; no trust between them, merely a debt; and the night warden swallows, hands firmly placed behind her back, expression twitching as she feels the tadpole squirm. " enough. before, i -- i have had enough of others in my mind; stay out of it, unless i tell you otherwise. should this prove to be a feat that you can accomplish if you possess even an ounce of control, i suspect that i will settle in as well as can be expected. "

@n1ghtwarden continued from here.

By the end of Minthara's dissection, Valeryana appears... pleasantly surprised. The expectations written on her face augured to expecting an analysis enmity and harsh scrutiny from the Nightwarden—some of that was there, sure, but it wasn't anything that the Wizard herself didn't also criticize in regards to her own capacity. Not even blindness would save one from noticing the state of her malady—she blended in almost too well with the Shadow Curse's undying decay and withering. But compliments? Genuine hints of underlying admiration?

The drow woman lets out a quaint, "Hm." Small shrug here, an adjustment there as her posture straightens with the weight of her staff... "Frankly, I expected far worse, given your thoughts to our other fellow Wizard," a sickly chortle is let out at that ("Poor, dear Gale" are her reverberating thoughts on the matter... for now) as her lips curve upward into an inquisitive and almost amused expression.

"To be deemed worthy of analysis in the eyes of a Baenre. Ilharressen, praise me!" Obvious sarcasm is laced in her tongue, flourished more by a faux grand gesture of open arms to the skies, but it isn't targeted at Minthara nor her House. In fact, her next set of words suggest anything but mockery towards her fellow noble dalninil.

"Save your apologies for weaker egos. I took no offense, and I'd be stupid to be offended when I asked the question to begin with, let alone from you merely pointing out the obvious. More to the point, your answer is... appreciated." For a moment, Valerya's words pause their sharp flow, pondering her next set of words for Minthara as her face slightly softens, away from facetiousness. "Rather refreshing to receive a bold, straightforward answer directly to the face given recent circumstances obfuscating just about everything," a shake of her head is followed by an irritated sigh before locking pale blue eyes with their slightest stains of crimson to her Lolth-marked orbs of pure-blood red, "I'm sure you most of all can relate to that frustration, given the state I found you in... Speaking of, how have you been faring in camp? Now that you've settled in with your own space." The bulbs and underground flora unveil a subconscious aura of wistfulness and approval, the tadpole providing that ambient wave of mental understand between them.

[compassionsblade-archive-blog]

hc + winter

SEND ‘HC + A WORD’ THAT YOU WANT A HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE INVOLVING THAT WORD

Cole prefers cold weather. It’s partially because the hurt caused by cold is easier to fix than the hurt caused by heat (a blanket is easier to provide than a cure for some insect-borne illness). It’s also a personal preference. The world is never quieter than under a blanket of freshly-fallen snow. 

[n1ghtwarden]

" one battle does not win a war, do not be so waela as to believe that. perhaps we have proved ourselves for now, but there is more to be done. " battle is all the night warden knows - she'd been born for it, raised for it; and it is a difficult thing to unlearn something that had defined her so. with her mind and the rest of her in shambles, minthara knows it is not a matter of if she can unlearn it; it is a matter of wanting to. " we can celebrate once our enemies are cold. "

hard won victories and even harder truths - arlis may rest easy this night; and a quiet concession is made: she deserves that, at least. minthara's gaze shifts, too; red, red eyes squinting in the brightness of the firelight; far more used to the soft glow of her own lanterns and baubles, all reminders of a home she no longer could back to. briefly, she stretches; aches and pains and fresh wounds from the evening aching; and while the night warden's blood may run hot after a battle - something is burning within arlis, too - and a cold smile unfurls across her lips; a dark, low chuckle leaving her. she knows that look well enough - it is one minthara often wears.

" you will have my sword. it matters not when or where my oath was made - it endures. while i have little left to me, i have... this. " the words do not come easy to her - the tadpole behind her eye wriggling with anxiousness; eagerness to be used again - but she holds back; instead watching arlis - the hand she stretches out; open and waiting. little spider, the bonds you think make you will just as easily break you - will just as easily kill you when your guard is down. minthara baenre, wayward daughter, looks again to arlis' outstretched hand - and does not take it.

" we will be allies, then. " nothing more - and minthara's defences raise once more, expression impassive. icy. she will stay - but it is not lost on her now that this camp, and these strangers are the only place she has left to go. this place is not as beautiful or terrible as menzoberranzan; but it is something - and when arlis speaks next; minthara burns brighter than any flame; her smile sharp and dangerous as the blades she keeps upon her. " oh, that we will do, and they will suffer for it." a pause; her brow furrowing. " perhaps i misjudged you. "

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖 is lost in, what dreams are inked in the parchment strewn before her; past or present? her own mind shifts uncomfortably between both of late, though there's little use in lingering on a past she cannot change nor alter. (there are, at least, bright pockets of joy to be found in the past few days amidst the horror, moments of victory and warmth. minthara, arlis suspects, can count none for herself.) ❛ because, ❜ she states simply when their eyes meet, jaw set firmly, ❛ i'm not like them. i'm not like thorm, or orin or gortash. if our enemies think i'm weak for having the common sense to still my blade now and then, let them. i'm always happy to take advantage of lowered guard.❜

oh, but a flicker of a grin appears on her lips before she can help it. miscreants. it's not an inaccurate description, even if it lacks the fondness that even now swells in her chest to think of them all. ❛ well, it seems we were capable enough given thorm's dead. that ought to count for something. ❜ the point is punctuated with a wide gesture of both hands, though even now her eyes are blazing to speak of it. ❛ we'll be all the more capable with your sword, though. of that, i've no doubt. ❜

a hand extends, fingers marred with the faintest hints of pale scars offered towards the drow. ❛ if you want to leave, this is your chance. i won't hold turning on your oath against you, given all that you've endured, everything and everyone you've survived. oaths should be free of the shadows, made anew. ❜ she is formidable, minthara, to have left that shadowed place with breath still in her lungs. her next words possess the solemnity, the reverence of a prayer. ❛ there's no turning back if you stay, if you join us, but i promise you this: we'll make them all pay. ❜

[valsharesses]

✖ ———— BETRAYAL.

It plays out exactly as it has before. History repeats itself, and despite being within reach of victory, despite her enemies downed at her heels, her ace up the sleeve turns their back on her and stabs her in the back. The valsharess awakens in an apartment she’s never been to despite her assigned housing, eyes snapping open, lips curling back in a snarl. Pain, a shooting pain, radiates through her whole being.

The moon goddess betrayed her. Despite the crippling ache, the valsharess throws her covers aside and sits up before she falls to her knees at the bedside, broken nails digging so deeply into the wood that one of them cracks beneath the pressure and starts to bleed. Everything she worked so hard to build, the fear that she desired so desperately to instill in her enemies--

It’s gone, and she’s left feeling so pitifully, miserably weak.

Staring at the floorboards, the valsharess’ lips break into a small smile, before she starts to laugh. It’s almost like a cycle. She starts from nothing, claws her way back up, and then watches it burn thanks to her good for nothing, treacherous allies. Sinvyl sits up, leaning back into the side of the bed, and cranes her head toward the ceiling.

All is the will of the goddess. Lolth has her reasons for this setback. Was it her hubris? Her rush to rebuild what took her centuries in the Underdark? No matter. No matter, she will simply have to do it again. She brushes her hair out of her face, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, the edge of her lip twitching at the pain in her ribcage. And then she rises to her feet, unsteady, bracing a hand against the dresser, then the wall.

Before her fingers move back to a vase on the dresser, wrap around its ceramic neck, and she smashes it against the floor. “Vith’os... vith’os!” She hisses, livid. “Jal khaless... zhah waela!”

All trust is foolish. All of it.

Next time, she will not make that mistake.

[kovaludyswata]

19) Hawazin (arab. هوازن / Hawāzin) starożytne plemie Arabów przed-islamskich, uważani za potomków Hawazina, syna Mansura, syna Ikrimy, syna Chasafaha, syna Qaysa ʿAylana, syna Mudara, syna Nizara, syna Ma'ad, syn Adnana, syna Aa'd'a, syna U'dada, dalekiego potomka Qaydara, syna Ismaila, syna Ibrahima. W ustnej tradycji i studiach nad genealogią współczesne plemię Otaibah na Półwyspie Arabskim jest de facto potomkami plemienia Hawazin. Z siedzibą w Hejaz w tym czasie stanowili część większego ugrupowania plemiennego Qaysi i byli główną siłą Qaysi, która walczyła z Kurajszami i Kinaną podczas wojny w Fijar pod koniec VI wieku. Klęska plemienia pod Hunaynem była czynnikiem umożliwiającym islamowi rozprzestrzenienie się poza Arabię. Po ich kapitulacji i nawróceniu plemieniu powiedziano, aby wybrać między odzyskaniem kobiet, które zostały wzięte do niewoli po bitwie, a majątkiem, który został im odebrany jako łup. Wybrali kobiety. W erze przedislamskiej, zastępcza matka i matka islamskiego proroka Mahometa, Halima al-Sa'diyah, oraz jej mąż pochodzili z plemienia Banu Sa'd, pododdziału Hawazin. Co więcej, plemię często ścierało się ze swoimi dawnymi patronami, Ghatafanami, a czasami walczyły ze sobą podgrupy Hawazin. Plemię miało niewielki kontakt z islamskim prorokiem Mahometem aż do 630 roku, kiedy to zostało pokonane przez siły Mahometa w bitwie pod Hunaynem. Po bitwie Muhammad dobrze potraktował wodza Hawazin, Malika ibn 'Awf al-Nasriego. Niemniej jednak plemię Hawazin było jednym z pierwszych, które zbuntowały się i walczyły z religią po śmierci Mahometa w VII wieku podczas wojen apostazji. Hawazinowie byli dużą grupą obejmującą podgrupy Banu Sa'd ibn Bakr ibn Hawazin, Banu Nasr i synowie Banu Jusham Mu'awiyah ibn Bakr ibn Hawazin, Banu Thaqif ibn Munabbih ibn Bakr ibn Hawazin, Banu 'Amir ibn Sa'sa'ah. Ponadto plemię wśród innych plemion było nazywane „Wielkimi Czaszkami Arabii”. Inne plemiona pod starożytnym tytułem obejmowały plemię Kinana, plemię Tamima, plemię Bakr Ibn Waela, plemię Al Aizd, plemię Ghatafan, plemię Muthej, plemię Abd Al Qays i plemię Guda'a. Jako władcy ziemi przed powstaniem islamu, tytułowe plemiona charakteryzowały się siłą, obfitością, wyższością i honorem. Nazwa wywodzi się z przekonania, że ​​czaszka jest najważniejszą częścią ciała. Plemię stanowiło część większej grupy Qays Aylan (znanej również jako „Qays”). W tradycyjnych źródłach odniesienia do Hawazin były często ograniczone do pewnych potomków plemienia, znanych jako ʿUjz Hawāzin (tył Hawazina); tymi podplemionami były Banu Sa'd, Banu Nasr i Banu Jusham. Założycielami tych subplemion byli albo synowie Bakr ibn Hawazin, albo synowie Mu'awiya ibn Bakr ibn Hawazin. Dwie inne główne gałęzie Hawazin, Banu 'Amir ibn Sa'sa' i Banu Thaqif, często były grupowane oddzielnie od innych podgrup Hawazin. Hawazinowie byli pasterskimi koczownikami zamieszkującymi stepy między Mekką a Medyną. Począwszy od około 550 roku ne., Hawazin stali się wasalem plemienia Banu 'Abs z Ghatafan pod wodzą ‘Absi Zuhayr ibn Jadhima. Kiedy ten ostatni został zabity przez Banu „Amir ibn Sa'sa” kilka lat później, Hawazin zaprzestali oddawania hołdu Ghatafanowi. W następnych latach dochodziło do sporadycznych bitew i wojen, często między większością Hawazinów, w sojuszu z Banu Sulaym z jednej strony, a większością Ghatafanów z drugiej. Rzadziej dochodziło do konfliktów zbrojnych między niektórymi podgatunkami Hawazinów, zwłaszcza między Banu Jusham i Banu Fazarą. Podczas wojny w Fijar pod koniec VI wieku Hawazinowie i większość Qays, z wyjątkiem Ghatafanów, ale w tym Banu 'Amir, Banu Muharib i Banu Sulaym, walczyli przeciwko plemionom Kurejszów i Kinana. Wojnę przyspieszyło zabójstwo Urwa ibn al-Rahhala z Banu Amir przez al-Barrada ibn Qays al-Damri z Kinana, podczas gdy Urwa eskortował karawanę Lachmidów z al-Hirah do Ukazu w okresie świątecznym; było to uważane za świętokradztwo przez pogańskich Arabów, stąd nazwa wojny, ḥarb al-fijār (wojna świętokradztwa). Incydent ten wydarzył się w czasie wojny handlowej między Kurejszami w Mekce a Banu Thaqif z Ta'if; ci ostatni byli zarówno krewnymi, jak i sojusznikami Hawazin. Wojna składała się z ośmiu dni bitewnych trwających przez cztery lata. Po usłyszeniu wiadomości o śmierci 'Urwy, Hawazin ścigał patrona al-Barrada Qurayshi Harba ibn Umayya i innych wodzów Kurejszytów od Ukazu do Nachli; Kurejszowie zostali pokonani, ale wodzowie zdołali uciec do Mekki. W następnym roku Hawazin ponownie odnieśli zwycięstwo przeciwko Quraysh i Kinana w Shamta niedaleko Ukazu. Ten ostatni stał się miejscem bitwy w następnym roku, a Hawazin po raz kolejny pokonał te same strony. Kurejszowie i Kinana pokonali Hawazinów w Ukaz lub w pobliskim miejscu zwanym Sharab w czwartej dużej bitwie wojny Fijar, ale Hawazin wyzdrowiał i zadał cios w wulkaniczne pola al-Harrah na północ od Mekki w piątym i piątym ostatnie znaczące zaangażowanie w wojnę. Potem doszło do drobnych starć, zanim pokój został zawarty  Kontakt między Hawazinem a islamskim prorokiem Mahometem, który pochodził z plemienia Kurejszy, był niewielki. Jednakże, stosunki z Banu 'Amir były ogólnie dobre. Również mamka Muhammada, Halima bint Abu Dhu'ayb, pochodziła z plemienia Hawazin z Banu Sa'd. Dopiero po zwycięskim wjeździe Mahometa do Mekki doszło do pierwszego poważnego spotkania pomiędzy głównym korpusem Hawazina a muzułmanami pod rządami Mahometa. Muhammad usłyszał, że Malik ibn 'Awf z Banu Nasr mobilizuje duże siły plemion Hawazin i Thaqif w pobliżu Mekki, zagrażając w ten sposób miastu i muzułmanom, i skłaniając siły Mahometa, w tym 2000 członków plemienia Qurayshi, do konfrontacji z siłami Malika w bitwie Hunayn w 630. Podczas tego starcia Thaqif zdołał uciec do Ta'if, ale Hawazin zostali rozgromieni i stracili większość swojego majątku. Jednak Mahomet natychmiast pogodził się z Hawazinami, zwracając mu żonę i dzieci Malika, dając mu dar wielbłądów i uznając jego zwierzchnictwo nad Hawazinami. Hawazin musieli zapłacić pewną sumę za odzyskanie uwięzionych kobiet i dzieci. Hawazin zaprzestał sadaqa (dobrowolnej darowizny) przekazanej władzom muzułmańskim w Medynie po śmierci Mahometa w 632 r. i podobnie jak wiele innych plemion arabskich, Hawazin wziął udział w walce z następcą Mahometa, Abu Bakrem podczas wojen Ridda. Hawazin ostatecznie powrócił do islamu pod koniec wojny.

[ask-dnd-sides]

Yep! Hope is, I believe, one of the most important things in the world. Just, have hope that it'll be okay, and that you'll be home soon. -🍰

(The girl looks down at the ground.)

Child: Ussta ilhar zuch telanthus kestal zhahus waela...