#Elvish Solidarity

[minecraftbookshelf]

Weapons of Choice

@justanaveragelizardperson has spoken! (Thank you so much, not being able to decide was driving me up the wall)

We'll hit this in alphabetical order, my headcanons for these are a combination of canon inspiration and pure, world-building results. Also this is not 100% accurate to how swords especially work in real life, this is a fantasy genre story and we embrace the "But It Looks Cool" here.

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Fwip: His preferred weapons are potions and explosions, he always has a fireworks crossbow to hand. As far as bladed weapons go he has a long dagger that doubles for chopping potions ingredients when he doesn't have his actual tools to hand.

Gem: Primarily uses her staff in combat, but if the occasion calls for it will just haul back and punch her opponent in the face. Is scrappy and level-headed, which is a dangerous combination.

Joey: Primarily fights with a smallsword when he has to fight but is the least martially minded of the rulers. Keeps totems of undying on him at all times.

Katherine: Her sword is a light-weight saber, her fighting style relies on her being light and quick on both her feet and her wings. She can also call the Overgrown to defend her and itself if the occasion calls for it.

LDShadowLady: Fights with a trident. She has a sword but doesn't really use it. The trident is the traditional weapon of the Oceanic royalty, thus both hers and Jimmy's. Will also sic axolotls on her enemies without hesitation.

Mythical J. Sausage: The Blood Sword is a zweihänder. He also carries a short sword to wield with a shield. His grip is half-open, giving a bit less flexibility but greater power to his blows. He acquires his sorcerers staff at one point and then favors that about equal with the Blood Sword.

PearlescentMoon: Equally proficient with her sword, axe, and scythe, as well as hand to hand. Is also skilled with the bow but prefers close combat methods. Her sword is a longsword that she wields both two handed and with a shield. She has a very rooted fighting style, her footwork is minimal, but when she does go more mobile she is very well balanced. She relies somewhat on her ability to tank hits, which serves her well, as her endurance is incredibly high, as demonstrated by her ability to go toe-to-toe with semi-immortal beings on a regular basis and hold her own. Shes very adept at using her elytra in combat, to the point that multiple rulers with natural wings have commented on her flight proficiency.

Pixlriffs: His preferred weapon is a Channeling Trident, his second choice is his basket-hilted sword (a schiavona) or recurve bow.

Shrub Berry: Joey gifted them a smallsword which for her functions as a broadsword. She's relatively new to combat but is proficient with a hatchet and a recurve bow. Their greatest weapon is the wolf pack.

Smajor: (There is no war rune blade in Ba Sing Se.) We're sticking with the LotR aesthetic for weapons as well, so that is what his sword looks like (A long-sword after the style of those used by the Lorien forces at Helm's Deep in the films) Also proficient with a longbow. At the time of the story beginning is not even close to considering using his ice magic in combat.

SmallishBeans: Equally favors a Mezalean shortsword (based off a xiphos) and a battle axe. He does have a trident and is fairly proficient with it but prefers to use it for travel rather than combat.

Solidarity: The Codfather Sword is a two-handed sword, closest to a claymore, he wields it with an open grip. (Which allows for more flexibility and control of the blade but the strikes are less powerful) When he's in Fish Mode it is more of a bastard/hand-and-a-half sword. He also uses a trident, mostly for aquatic combat.

Xornoth: Two swords. Has never willingly used a shield in their life and isn't about to start now. Is either dual wielding elvish-style short swords or has a full-size battle axe. Will sometimes throw fire and lava but tends to be cautious with it.

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AU Masterpost

#rain rambles #i have lots of thoughts about pearl for this apparently #pearlescentmoon #literally everyone #empires smp #empires s1 #marriage of state au #mos: worldbuilding #mos: ensemble

[insomniaruler]

Two weddings and a couple wishes for a few more

Their first wedding was Jimmy’s favourite. It was a beautiful day with white clouds drifting lazily across a cerulean sky. It was Truce Day, when once a week people would meet up somewhere and take record, hold funerals, and forget about the wars and petty disputes for four hours. And it was in this moment of peace their wedding was held.

Ren and Jimmy stood at the alter. Both dressed in their least blood stained clothes, Joel stood at Jimmy’s right side, as best man. Grian played a slow march on a set of pan pipes he’d dug up from somewhere. And Scott began to walk down the aisle just behind Scar, who was making an impeccable flower Boy. Scott was gorgeous, daisies, poppies and bluebells were threaded through his hair and his suit was a soft blue.

Looking at him brought tears to Jimmy’s eyes, somehow Scott was real, and had chosen Jimmy. When Scott reached the alter Ren started his speech. “Enemies and Friends, dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the union between Jimmy Solidarity and Scott Smajor who have somehow found true love in this dark world. So, Scott Smajor do you, take Jimmy Solidarity to be your lawlessly wedded husband in sickness and in health, in wealth and desolation, from Green to Red, till death do you part?” Ren asked turning to Scott. “I do.” Scott said, tears sparkling in his eyes.

“And Jimmy Solidarity do you, take Scott Smajor to be your lawlessly wedded husband in sickness and in health, in wealth and desolation, from Green to Red, till death do you part?” Ren continued, turning to Jimmy. “I do.” Jimmy whispered looking softly at Scott. “Then with the power invested in me as the King of Dogwarts, you may kiss the Groom.“WOOOOOO!!!!” Joel cheered and wolf whistled as they kissed.

—/—

The second was somehow even less official. If you looked there’d be no records of these two even Interacting on positive terms. But somehow they found each other again.

This wedding was Scott’s favourite. They stood facing each other. Flower crowns on their brows. Far lighter then any crown either had to wear. “Have I told you how much I’ve missed you?” Jimmy muttered. “Not quite enough sunflower.” Scott said laughing at the light pink colour Jimmy flushed. “By the Cods then. I have missed you so much it hurt.” Jimmy said seriously, hold Scott’s face in his hands. Scott leaned into the touch smiling at Jimmy through his eyelashes. Scott snorted in a very un elvish way.

“Well then… Codfather Jimmy Solidarity, do you take me, Scott Smajor, King of Rivendell to be you almost lawful husband. In sickness and in health, through rich and poor, from King to pauper, till death do us part?” Scott asked holding Jimmy’s hands. “I do.” Jimmy said smiling broadly. “Scott Smajor, King of Rivendell, do you take me, Codfather Jimmy Solidarity to be you nearly lawful husband. In sickness and in health, through rich and poor, from King to pauper, till death do us part?” Jimmy asked. “I do.” Scott said smirking. It was hardly official but that was okay.

Their first date, the day after they married as to go find enough gold to create to wedding bands, one inlaid with diamonds the other with emeralds. Scott frowned over the rings of metal, a fine diamond carving tool clutched in his hands as he carved two poppies and a combined crest into the inner side of each ring. “Here you are Sunflower.” Scott said handing Jimmy the ring. “Love you Petal.” Jimmy said leaning onto Scott.

—/—

Scott looked softly at Jimmy as he walked proudly around his town. Looks like his stupid idiot had done well for himself this life. The town may have been plain but it was a far cry from the monstrosity of a hobbit hole from The First Game. Scott sighed leaning on the boulder. Jimmy hadn’t Remembered quite yet. It was always a switch up. Last time Jimmy Remembered him and the Game when he dawned the Cod Father Head. He only Remembered when his antlers started to grow in.

And it seemed this time he was the first to Remember his husband and the lives they lived over and over again. By the gods he missed his Idiot… he just had to wait, Jimmy would Remember soon enough.

—/—

Jimmy looked off the top of the Mansion looking at the shining sea, where Scott was living. Sighing sadly he wondered how he was. They’d barely even spoken this season. And then Scott was the only green left. Jimmy didn’t know why he couldn’t say ‘love you to’ to the man he’d shared countless lives with. Perhaps he had another curse on top of his Canary curse. The ‘Can’t fucking talk to your husband who you’re about to hunt for sport because the watchers stuck you in a fucked up murder game curse™️’

“Jimmy! We get it! You miss your husband and you’re having angst time but if you’re not fishing your not helping!” Joel yelled, waving his sun glasses.

#empires smp #empires s1 #empires s2 #3rd life #limited life #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands

[honeyxmonkey]

Douxie and Archie learned to speak Sindarin for the shits and giggles

Eli is a nerd and also absolutely knows how to speak Sindarin

They bond over this

--

Douxie and Eli: speaking in Tolkien Elvish to eachother

Everyone else: what the fuck is happening??

---

Bonus by @sakon76

Then Krel discovers humans have made-up alien languages as well, and this delights him and he's a little troll, so out of solidarity all four of them learn Klingon as well.

#its my new favorite thing #canonically carter also really likes lotr #so he did pick up some sindarin from his nerd boyfriend #they like to drive fenris crazy with it #tales of arcadia #wizards tales of arcadia #hisirdoux casperan #toa wizards #eli pepperjack #toa trollhunters #trollhunters tales of arcadia #trollhunters #toa 3below #3below tales of arcadia #headcanons #toa archie #krel tarron

[carlandrea]

'Ropes indeed!' answered an Elf from the boats. 'Never travel far without a rope! And one that is long and strong and light. Such are these. They may be a help in many needs.'

'You don't need to tell me that!' said Sam. 'I came without any, and I've been worried ever since.

This little moment of solidarity between hobbit know-how and elvish wisdom

'They are made of hithlain,' said the Elf, 'but there is no time now to instruct you in the art of their making. Had we known that this craft delighted you, we could have taught you much. But now alas!

Feeling feelings about elves and their crafts 🥺

Tolkien elves really are so much more human (and also more alien) than a lot of the fantasy Tolkien knock offs—this is a lovely moment

#lotr newsletter

[estherwordnerd]

Big fan of how Gimli and Legolas properly become friends over the course of their stay in Lothlorien. It goes from the fellowship being blindfolded in solidarity with Gimli to them all taking the blindfolds off and the elves accepting a dwarf staying with them for the first time in forever. There's a mention of Legolas taking Gimli on his walks through the woods and you can imagine him showing Gimli the best places, telling stories and them just getting to know each other. And Gimli isn't too proud to admit that Galadriel is the most beautiful person he's ever seen. And of course there's the massive Elvish inside joke about Galadriel giving him not just one, but three strands of hair. It's so symbolic of the elves and dwarves starting to trust each other again in a wood that's been inhabited by just elves for so long and it's a great way to cement their romance relationship. I also love that Legolas and Gimli leave sharing a boat because they're "fast friends" afterwards.

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #lotr #legolas and gimli #lothlorien #galadriel

[aylaaescar]

Sidane and Morrigan: 12 and 16. Rionne and Josie: 23 and 24, please!

thank you!! 🖤

12. What struggle have they seen each other through?

there's the whole Blight, but that's a cheap answer so I will not go w that lol. okay here's one that idk if I've ever shared before, but Sidane lost their vision to an injury at the top of Fort Drakon.

(injuries/eye pain cw) a shriek was going to catch Morrigan off-guard, and Sidane just... jumped in the way. they weren't really thinking, bc if they were, they probably just would've used a magical barrier or something. but instead they panicked, and their face got clawed instead of Morrigan's head. now I'm perfectly aware that Morrigan canonically leaves after that fight if the ritual happened, buuuut it's my brain and I say that she stuck around after that, at least for a bit. it wasn't for long and might not even count for this question, tbh? but she stayed with them for a few days until they woke up, since the shriek got them badly enough that they were out of commission for the rest of the fight. Alistair was the one to get the final blow against the Archdemon.

16. How do they react when the other is upset? How do they try to help?

I won't lie to you, I feel like they're BOTH bad at this, at least initially lol. Morrigan grew up w friggin Flemeth as her role model, so I doubt she has any good examples to follow? Sidane is a liiiiittle better, since they have Jowan, their sister Perry, and best friend Ramori, so there's experience there in comforting others even if they're not the best at it. but Morrigan? nah. I feel like she doesn't know how to handle that at first, but learns as time goes on.

tbh they probably just kind of give the other space, at least in the beginning of their relationship? neither of them know what to do but don't want to make it worse, so they'll just leave the other be. but that changes when they start to fall for each other; Morrigan is a bit harder for me to pin down in how she'd comfort them, aside from spending time w them and listening to them vent. Sidane, on the other hand, tries to make Morrigan feel better by leaving a pretty flower or two in her tent, or on her things. historically they've always been a casual hook-up sort of person, they don't have experience with actual romantic feelings, but plenty of novels say that flowers are a good gift, right? they're trying. give them both some time in their relationship to not be as awkward with FEELINGS.

Josie/Rionne

23. What was their first impression of each other?

was Josie there when the Inquisitor was unconscious after popping out of the Fade? if yes, then I'd imagine she was probably curious as well as cautious? they just survived a huge disaster and they have that glowing arm now, so I think I'd feel the same way. if not, I think Josie might have thought Rionne was impressive and brave for how she'd sealed the Rift, but was also... kind of chilly? which isn't wrong, bc Rionne IS a chilly person in general - that just gets amplified when she's a Dalish mage surrounded by human Chantry members who seem to think she's a prophet for their religion. Rionne didn't enjoy her time at Haven, lbr.

on Rionne's end, she was initially suspicious (as she was with everybody), until Josephine greeted her in elvish. for Rionne, it was the first time anybody at Haven had treated her with respect; praising her for the Rift or being their Herald set her on edge at the least and irritated her at worst, because she had no choice in the former and she outright denied the latter every chance she got. so Rionne kind of decided that she had a soft spot for Josie from word go, haha.

24. How did they fall for each other?

would it be corny to say just by being themselves? 🖤 okay less corny, I think it happened just as they got to know and understand each other. they're both hardworking women who put their families (Lavellan and Montilyet) first, so much of what they do is for the people they love and there was a real solidarity that came with that. Josephine is caring and compassionate, gives Rionne cuddles while respecting her asexuality. she knows that sometimes Rionne's just going to be prickly, or not touchy-feely, and it doesn't mean that she's any less loving than she was yesterday. Rionne went out of her way multiple times to help Josephine with her family, and outright dueled somebody else so Josie wouldn't have to marry a stranger. lots of little things and big things adding up to a nice picture.

#ask tag #userbread #DA blogging #OTP: Caring For You Was Not Part of the Plan #OC: Sidane Amell #OTP: Who We Are For Love #OC: Rionne Lavellan #(I have to go back to work but I'll change your tag later if I got it wrong shgkdbf) #I don't talk about these pairs as much but 🖤🖤🖤 love them

[dorksndisasters]

Name: Carric Amaluir

Race: elf

Class: Sorceror. Patron is the Wheel of Fortune

Familiar is a wren

Generally prefers just chilling in the forest, but has that elvish sense of solidarity for their kin (and will tolerate others too)

Can identify any mushroom. Accidentally stumbled upon the magical shit - grew up and get lost in woods and ate some properly magic mushrooms. Not very well trained, self taught. Cursed by the mushrooms, made promise to elder god to get out of the curse & get power

prefers animals to people

#heroforge #player characters #elf #sorceror #Carric Amaluir

[dont-doubt-dopple]

Hello! I am here and I have Elvish translation for Sausage and Xornoth from Jimmy’s stream. Featuring Norman cause I can

Leithio nin - Release Me

Agoreg vae - You did well

Odulen an edraith anlen - I’m here to save you (Literal: I came for saving for you)

<Smallishbeans> Bonjour Sausage, j’mapelle Joel! (The only actual French spoken here)

U-iston - I don’t know

*Losto vae - Sleep Well

Ma istal quet’ Eldarin? - Can you/y’all speak Elvish?

A tula naressë - Come near the fire

Anin apsenë - Forgive Me

Maj acáriel - You did well

Namárië - Farewell

Gwestog? - Do you promise?

<Xornoth> I dass carnen? - Is it done?

<MythicalSausage> Leithio nin - Release Me

Not pictured is Sausage repeating “Leithio nin” constantly in Chat after this point. Do what this what you will.

#empires smp #empiressmp #xornoth #mythical sausage #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #smallishbeans #elvish

[morwensteelsheen]

“No,” says Boromir. “Not me, I would be a terrible husband for you.”

“If not you,” answers Éowyn, her voice a little weaker than it was seconds ago, “then who?”

The answer is, naturally, his younger brother. Still Éowyn’s senior by something near to a decade she estimates, they are much the same in appearance except for all the ways in which they are not, and exactly nothing alike in manner except for all the ways in which they are. She meets him once before her life is signed away, the day she arrives in the White City. He looks at her with the sort of benevolent pity she was warned all the lords of Gondor would look upon her with. There is a good humour beneath it too, like he thinks he understands what it is to be trapped like she is. He, she is quite certain, could not possibly understand.

They are married in Minas Tirith on a cold autumnal afternoon. The festivities—if they can even be called that—are something out of her most mundane nightmares. She speaks the Elvish tongue, but more from memory than native use, and half the conversations conducted around her are impenetrable. Neither Théodred nor Éomer could be spared for the event, so she has come with Erkendbrand of the Deeping-Coomb to stand in for her kin. They sit in quiet council during the feast, and though Faramir does make a laudable attempt to engage with her, she has little need or desire for it. The task has been accomplished, she is no longer a Lady of the Mark, it matters little to her if she is liked or disliked.

It is decided that they will forego the customary bridal tour. Faramir is needed in Ithilien, though he will stay for a month or so in the City to ensure that she acclimates (a prospect she scoffs at and resolves to thwart at every turn). She is moved into his apartments in the Stewards’ Palace with what few personal possessions she has brought with her from the Mark. The Palace is bigger than Meduseld by far, but its walls close in on her with each step she takes, and she wonders if she will be able to breathe at all here.

Once the servants have finished fussing about like newly-beheaded chickens and at last leave them to their terrible, painful solitude, Faramir shows her to a secondary set of bed chambers, richly though impersonally decorated. There, he tells her he expects nothing of her. “We have not made these conditions,” he says, with a sternness that mirrors his lord father’s with unnerving accuracy. “I would not make a prison of your bower.”

“I do not see you as a gaoler,” she offers, spending the last dregs of her diplomacy.

“Nor I you. Perhaps we ought to see one another as fellow prisoners, some solidarity would not here go amiss, I think,” he says, before bowing with desperate formality and leaving.

Éowyn does not sleep at all on her wedding night, but not for the reasons she had been told to expect. She is a hundred leagues from the Golden Hall, and but a small handful of people have followed her here across the Mering Stream. It does not stop the way she sees his face in the darkened windows, or the way it feels like she’s still always, always being watched.

She cries herself to sleep on her wedding night, and that, at least, is something she has been warned about.

The ladies of Minas Tirith have no idea what to do with her. Faramir warns her of this before she is whisked away to meet them; the women of Gondor do not typically wed so young—a relic of the elder days when those descended from Westernesse lived longer. To them, Éowyn, married at the tender age of twenty-one, is practically a child bride. They have all decided to say nothing of it though, out of a belief that it is a part of Rohir culture to wed so early. Éowyn declines to inform them that it is an aberration even in the Riddermark. They don’t need to know how much her own family disrespects her.

They do not know enough to know the low price Éowyn has been traded away for. They do not think it strange that the niece of a King has been bundled off to a man with no true title, a second son though the first is yet unwed. They treat her like a provincial oddity, more like some experimental new vintage from the outlying vineries than a foreign barbarian, but it’s still enough to make her skin crawl.

In the evenings, Faramir makes himself conspicuously scarce, appearing only long enough to ask after her day, to tell her briefly—ceremoniously—of his, and to ask if she lacks anything. She does not tell him that she despises that her window looks east, and he does not ask.

He does not touch her except when it cannot be avoided, and then it seems like it is taking a monstrous effort to do so. She wonders at this. All men, she knows, play at being good men until there is a woman involved; then they cannot help themselves, they are reduced to what men always are, at their core. She wonders what it is about her that bolsters this unnatural restraint of his: does he find her grotesque?; it is a matter of her age?; or can he simply not bear the burden of being wed to a lady of the lowly kingdom of the North?

This is her new life, and she will bear it with dignified silence, but she resolves never to like it. There are whisperings in the Mark that the world is growing darker, that all hope has been snuffed out. If those rumours are true, if war is truly inevitable and no glorious light awaits them at the end, then Éowyn hopes, prays, it will all come soon. Then, at least, she will be spared the horror of her life.

•°

In the second week of her married life, Faramir seeks her out. He carries a small parcel wrapped in glistening silk, and gives it to her as she sits on the sofa in his—their—apartments, embroidering. Embroidery seems to be the only thing of any interest she can do in this strange city without opening herself up to ire.

She opens the parcel, looks at it, then at him. “What is it?”

“A book,” he says, appearing distantly amused by the question. “A traditional gift for new brides in Gondor.”

“From their husbands?”

“Yes, and others. The gifts are intended to symbolised a wife’s role in shepherding the future of the Kingdom. If a home is filled with many books, then it is said that the family that dwells within it will perform good labours.”

“This is the first book I have received.” She looks at it, runs her fingers across the supple leather binding. “I wonder why that should be.”

“I suppose,” says Faramir, standing up, “the good lords and ladies of the court think that you cannot read.”

She almost winces at the bluntness of his words. “But you think that I can?”

“You are a daughter of kings.” He looks at her like his conclusion is the painfully obvious one.

“I am,” she says, a little limply.

“I hope it brings you some joy,” he says, “or as much as there can be in times such as these.”

He leaves. Éowyn, feeling almost dizzied by the encounter, looks at the book once more, risking a look at its first pages. It is a book of tales from Lossarnach, the land from whence her mother’s mother hailed. A faint memory of the years of happiness wells up inside her, the years before darkness had shrouded the Mark, had stolen her father and mother away, had stolen even herself away.

She does not read the book, but she does keep it on the table beside her bed, and when she looks at it she imagines a life where joy was not so fleeting a thing.

In the fifth circle of Minas Tirith, there is a small practice arena used by the various garrisons that pass through the city. Éowyn takes to sitting in the small, dilapidated stands during the day, watching them like she used to watch the Riders spar back home. She doesn’t feel much like herself anymore, there’s a hollow ache of alienation deep within her that she just can’t fill, but to watch round after round of practiced, highly-technical swordsmanship makes her feel something loosely approximating normal.

Her grandmother’s sword—mostly ceremonial in Morwen’s time, well used in Éowyn’s—did not come with her to Gondor. It is locked in an armoury box somewhere deep within the bowels of Meduseld. High born ladies of Gondor, she was told, do not wield weapons of war.

She does not wish to wield weapons of war either, she wishes to wield weapons of glory. She doesn’t want to brandish a sword to do simple, quotidian killing, she wants to hold her blade aloft to the sky and command the world to remember her name. Until a few months ago, she would sit in the sun and imagine herself arrayed in golden light, dripping in ancient jewels as she sat upon a throne, a warrior queen at the right hand of her husband, a king with renown enough to surmount the legacy of even Helm Hammerhand himself.

She cannot imagine such things anymore. She sits at her husband’s right hand, yes, and there are occasionally ancient jewels, but the light in Gondor is cold and unfeeling, and her muscles have grown weak and weary from disuse. They say her husband is a scholar, and from the books in his—their—apartments, she is certain she believes them. They say he is a good captain too, if not half as impressive as his brother, and that she believes too. This is the sum total of her life now: a never ending series of almost-but-not-quites, a life wasted and spent before it has even begun.

Faramir continues to ask if there is anything she wants, and she continues to tell him no. At night, he goes to his chambers, and she haunts hers; they are alone, yet forced together. His prison metaphor, she thinks, grows more apt with each day.

One evening, a troupe of musicians from Lebennin give a performance in Merethrond. It is strange and a little unnerving to her to have an entire evening of music with not a single sung lyric, but the wine flows freely and the viols are not entirely different to the rebecs of the Mark, so she cuts her losses and enjoys the night to the limited extent that she can. Faramir is generous enough to explain the various cultural traditions at play, and while her Sindarin has improved enough to be more than conversational, she appreciates at least the neutrality of his speech in the Common Tongue.

The performance breaks and the guests begin to mingle, she stays by his side. There is nothing for her to say, and he is the only one who attempts to draw her into conversation. She is quite friendly, but quite friendly is not very friendly, and she drinks to muffle the discomfort of it all.

Later, when they retire to his apartments, she has had enough wine to loosen her tongue. She sits a little indecorously on the sofa, and senses that he is about to put them both through the nightly ritual that exhausts her so deeply. She decides, on the spur of the moment, to preempt him.

“Is there aught that you wish for, my lord? You so often ask me, but I so rarely hear an answer from you.”

“From you? There is nothing, save, perhaps, to know if you feel more at ease than in Rohan.”

“Why should I not feel at ease in the Mark?”

There is pity scrawled across his features as he looks at her. She despises it. “My brother, rightly or wrongly, has made me privy to the circumstances under which our marriage was arranged. My only hope, then, is that these circumstances, however displeasing to you, are preferable to the ones you have left.”

“Ah,” she says, haughtily. “Is that why you will not come to my bed? Or invite me to yours?”

“Do you wish me to?” He looks stunned, a little uneasy. It mirrors how she feels.

“No. But I would rather that you stay away for some personal defect of mine than a misplaced sense of guilt or duty.”

For a moment, he is quiet, and she thinks that she can almost see him following every possibility of her words to their logical end. Then he nods. “Is there anything else?”

“My sword—a sword. I wish to train again.”

This is the first time she sees actual upset on his face, just the faintest flicker of it before he masters himself, and she wonders if he is not suffering as much as she under the laxity of the sweet wine.

“You would not have your wife play at swords? It would displease you to have so unconventional a wife as one who might win herself glory and honour in the manner of man?”

“It would not,” he says, quickly enough that she thinks he has anticipated her words. “But I do not believe that glory emanates purely from the blade of a sword.”

“Would you cast away your sword then?”

“I would.”

She stares at him, this strange man who her life has been inextricably tethered to. She cannot imagine any other men of her acquaintance who would answer that question as he has, except in a lie, yet he does not look to her like a liar.

“Even in self-defence?”

“No, but you spoke of glory, not self-defence.”

“Then suppose I speak of self-defence, would you still deprive me of what I have requested?”

He bows his head, as if in thought, bringing his fingers up to rub the bridge of his nose. When he looks up at her, she is struck by the clearness of his eyes, the same colour as hers yet entirely different. “I will give you what I can, though in this, and requests like it, I would also have you know that you do not need my consent. Your time is yours to use as you please.”

She doesn’t even have a chance to thank him before he leaves. Despite the wine running hot in her blood and the fire crackling brightly in the hearth, she shivers.

#e writes #super unfinished #doing this instead of writing/revising AFTA #🎶because i have no fucking self control🎶

[crowomen]

He had to keep running, even if it was pointless.

He had heard rumors of a shadowy figure, a demon presumably summoned by Lord Sausage of Mythland, tormenting others, spreading corruption. He heard from Shubble that it— Xornoth, spoke to her. He had also heard it spoke to Joey, Katherine, Fwhip, Ji- Solidarity. It seemed to actively cause fear in its abilities of teleporting, summoning lightning, flying, and its whispers.

So why was it just watching him? Why didn’t it speak to him, and instead watch? It appeared in his enchanting tower, outside of one of his house doors, his Apiary, and even in the statue of the spirit that guarded his land.

It terrified him. He didn’t like the way the demon just looked at him, as though he was either prey, or a treasure yet claimed. He couldn’t decide which of those interpretations scared him more. It scared him more then the corruption spreading around his home, reaching for the power source of his entire Empire, and it scared him more then half remembered memories of another server.

He hated it, he hated the demon whose red eyes seemed to mock him, seemed to know everything about him. He hated how the demon clearly understood Elvish. His people’s language. Why did Xornoth know that? ...Why did Sasuage know it?

He, ruler of Rivendell... the ruler known for his colder attitude and serious demeanor... was afraid.

He, ruler of Rivendell... couldn’t remember what he did yesterday.

#crow writes #smajor1995 #scott smajor #scottsmajor #Xornoth #empiressmp #empire smp #empires smp #cackles omniously #man I love writing for this Au #Eventual Possessed Scott AU

[prismartist]

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game), 3rd Life SMP, and 3rdLifeSMP - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity & Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname, Martyn Littlewood & Rendog

Characters: Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname, Jimmy | Solidarity, ZombieCleo, Grian, GoodTimesWithScar, BdoubleO100, Rendog, Martyn Littlewood, bigbst4tz2, Joel | SmallishBeans, Skizzleman, TangoTek, Ethoslab, Empires SMP cameos, Hermitcraft Ensemble cameos

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Laputa Castle In The Sky AU, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Developing Friendships, Ambiguous Relationships, Morally Ambiguous Character, Sindarin, yes you read that right. there's a bit of elvish in here. because i'm extra like that., Worldbuilding, references to Empires SMP, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, gen - Freeform, Other - Freeform, No Archive Warnings Apply - Freeform, No Romantic Relationship(s) - Freeform, Minor or Background Relationship(s) - Freeform, Found Family, Family Dynamics

Summary: A boy from the sky meets a new friend.

A/N: here it is!!! after a few months of working on this, i've started to put out my passion project, my first multichap fic in like two years. i'm actually really excited for this jjshfd. updates will probably not be consistent as i'm still working on chapters, and i've got several other wips to attend to, but i'll try my best to post frequently. enjoy!!! :]

#mcyt #3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #3lsmp #third life smp #thirdlifesmp #trafficblr #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #flower husbands #3l fanfic #3l fanfiction #prismatic writing

[officialtoa]

BOOTH 16: ASHES OF ALAR

Celebrating Elvish Solidarity, the Phoenix Fellowship of the Ashes of Al'ar is bringing you the wonders of Highborne relics, Elvish paraphernalia & souvenirs, enchanted wares, star-card readings, traditional confectioneries, and raffle tickets for a rare mount! Blessed by Belore and endeared by Elune, come visit us to extend the olive branch to all children of Quel'thalas and Kalimdor!

Ashes of Al'ar reopens this year with a brand new magically interactive menu for you to feast your eyes upon!

Brought to you by the ingenuity of Tristanis Starweaver ! 

MENU: https://toa.ashesofalar.com/ 

[greaves note: please look at this thing; it’s incredible. gimme those roses.]

Menu Featurettes:

Luneth Dawnseeker’s Tenacious Tapestries 

Starweaver Vineyards

Gladewind Leathercrafting and Saddlery

Firion’s Magical Wonders

Duskwhisper Destinies

Rosefield’s Tea Time

Sauveterre Estate Roses

Mirchea Mechanics

PLUSHIES

With all the shades of elf to embrace, why not have your plush to match?

The Sin'dorei Plush, who's warm to the touch and smells of spicy cinnamon, frankincense & myrrh! 

The Nightborne Plush, whose calming lavender scent will soothe your mind! 

The Kaldorei Plush, whose scent of minty moonlit evergreens will temper your dreams! 

The Quel'dorei Plush, whose scent of wild blueberries will have you braving the outlands. 

The Ren'dorei Plush, whose perfume of rich blackberries will have you cozy in the dark! 

By popular demand, we have the Bloodberry Tart San'layn plush, whose sugar-sweet scent will have your fangs vibrating! 

These are just a sneak peek at what our mana-touched menu has in store! 

Be sure to visit us to see more of what our magical metropolis has to offer!

PICK A POLYMORPH

"Come one, come all! Try your luck at this new game of chance! A mirror of polymorphed precious rabbits will pounce into view! Can you positively pick which one is the real deal and pin yourself a prize?"

Upon correctly perceiving this puzzle, you will receive ONE raffle ticket for a bejeweled onyx panther! Speak with someone at the booth at the time of your completion or message @Luneth <Ashes of Al'ar>  on discord! 

First Prize: Crafted by the finest Thalassian Jewelers, the Jeweled Onyx Panther is a union of lustrous lapidary and exemplary enchantments!

Second Prize: A melodic revenant of a bygone era, the Highborne Music Box lulls a spirited lamentation to reminisce our mournful yore.

Third Prize: A Miniature Ballista, engineered by meticulous elven ingenuity, this tiny replica is a pocket-sized protector of your person!

#ToA2020 #Tournament of Ages #Ashes of Alar #Moon Guard #Moon Guard RP

[konietzko-sylvoran]

“In memory of so many whom we've lost, this next one is a personal message to every elf of every creed. A roué cyr act which follows meant to inspire elvish solidarity. Written and performed by the Heart of Tenacity's Konietzko Lumenstone, we give you One more Dorei.”

(Written/Timed Music Here)  

The lights are dim so all that is seen is the silhouette of Kon’s figure sitting with his back to the audience. Above him higher up than he could reach even while standing is his LED cyr wheel. As the LEDs start to illuminate, they emit a soft glow making the wheel look like a giant moon in the sky above Kon’s figure. Dangling from the bottom of the wheel is a large banner on display. Two more lights on the right and left of the stage give spotlight to the banner on display so one can see every detail of it. The Shaldorien Silk banner, embroidered with Thalassian gold threads dons the traditional colors of each elvish nation, woven together in an elegant arrangement that's certain to inspire unity in their kinship! To anyone who had ever visited the Ashes of Alar booth at any event, it was clear this was the Banner of Accord made by Tenacious Tapestries meant to represent elvish solidarity. The stage wall behind the wheel and Kon both illuminate with starlight across a vast night sky of blue and violet. Kon’s dark skin glistens from the subtle light catching hints of the sparkling paint he’s coated in giving him the desired astral effect.

With his back still to the audience as he sits there, he raises his head up to stare at the night sky and the moonlit banner above as his dreadlocks kiss the small of his back tied back in a formal knot. His deep chocolate voice speaks aloud as the music begins to play. “We elves were once all Children of the Stars. All the same Dorei, children of the same light in the sky. No matter how old or young, we are all descendants of the starborne. Today, we are a race so divided and thinned that the few remaining lights among us have become dim with hatred, sorrow, and arrogance. Many of us know and understand the reasons why. Some, like me, have lived through most of them. And yet with all I’ve experienced, all I’ve endured, I keep looking among us all no matter our creed and asking the same thing. Is it so wrong of us to call one another brothers and sisters? In a time where unity is so needed in our world, where lights go out around us at an alarming rate, I ask that all dorei take a moment in to hear me out.” 

Raising one hand up towards the sky backdrop, he arcs his hand one side to the other tracking a shooting star across the sky. “The kaldorei were once founders of Azeroth’s most magical and advanced civilization till forces out of our control came and divided us all. No matter our current race, we’ve all suffered great and tragic losses repeatedly over time and even currently. We’re no longer immortal.” He turns his head to the side to look to a single wisp as it approaches him from above and hovers at his side. Kon’s amber eyes were masked with subtle feathers and glitter along the cheekbones and eye ridges to look like that of an owl. “And yet in all the brilliance this world has to offer us, we have learned that none of it is meant to be kept. Not even our own souls. As time ticks on we each become mere flickers of light, mere moments in time.”

“I was but a boy when devastation wrought us all into several isolated groups and history continues to repeat itself as more and more dorei are created.” He holds his hand out to the wisp as it starts to slowly circle around him. “Separation, isolation, banishment, betrayals, fractured societies and exile have repeated themselves among the dorei time and time again. Each time our skin changes color, our hair and our eyes take on a new tone and the magic that we wield finds a new source changing us forever.”

“Time and history has taught us all how to fear, how to hate and how to change. But even with all our differences, rather we worship the moon, the sun, the void or whatever deity we choose, are we not still one dorei?” Slowly he rises to his feet wearing nothing but a uniquely designed legging with enchanted thread that hugs tight at his hips. “We’ve all derived from the magical in nature no matter how old our bloodlines are currently or how very new and altered they’ve become. Do we not all still have glowing eyes no matter their color? Though some have gotten shorter or longer, do our ears not all point at the end?” He reaches up and the cyr wheel lowers down towards him as he removes the Banner of Accord from the wheel. The wisp flew around the wheel and Kon both a few times before disappearing.

The magical thread along his leggings shimmer from hip to ankle as the threads change color to each elvish nation’s colors as he speaks of them. “Kaldorei, Quel’dorei, Ren’dorei, Sin’dorei, Shal’dorei and even Shen’dralar. We are all one people.” He turns to walk to the side of the stage and places the banner on a golden standard waiting there, letting it hang and display itself magnificently. “I believe in unity among us, that we need to show kindness to all and make sure no more fall. Respecting others is what we should do, who knows it might even spread more happiness too. At the end of the day even those who have strayed we are all the same. Noone is better than another, it’s not in a name.” He turns and walks back center stage as the sky illuminates in more and more stars behind him and his wheel starts to twinkle as if stars are slowly twinkling behind him. Kon faces the audience with amber eyes full of emotion and determination through his owl mask. “You never know when your life will be changed so don’t look down on others who face troubles of their own. We are all dorei, all children of the stars whose lights are just as important as all the others.” He slowly flourishes his hands out right and left. “My brothers, my sisters, a moment may be all we have left in the sky of a million stars. Care and respect are things we can all freely give. And for that last light you touch, it may even make this world a better place to live.”

In a slow, fluid motion he lowers himself down to bend one knee back through the wheel and the other forward as he bows his head. The wheel and stage go dark as spotlights go out all but the light on the Banner of Accord.

(Music for the second half here)

The cyr wheel lights back up, LEDs twinkling timed with the music. With practiced finesse, he rolls the heavy wheel on its edge, causing it to trace a slow path around him as he slowly rises up. The LEDs transition via soft fades from gold to soft blues to turquoise, reflecting the colors of the High elves, even his leggings and their magical thread match the colors. Hands both reach out then slowly curl into fists as he hugs them to his chest as if in pain. Turning his body to the side in a fluid movement, he reaches for the circling wheel then starts to slowly walk it around the stage in a wide slow circle with perfect timing to the music. His other hand rises and falls in time with the music to express a gentle magical  emotion through movement. Everything is perfectly timed as if walking through memory.

The stage wall behind him starts to reflect colors that strongly suggest the feel and warmth of the sunwell’s magic. The Cyr wheel starts to lose the blues and greens, fading into more golden with droplets of red as did his leggings. Shadows crept through the backdrop as the colors became corrupt, flickering. With athletic precision he steps into the wheel with both feet and grabs the edges with both hands. Revolving in a continuous wide pattern resembling a waltz, he spins and turns synched with the music, conveying a delicate balance and grace as colors still flicker about him. One hand releasing the wheel, he reaches it up and out as if trying to chase after or grasp at some unseen force.

The moment the base hits the wheel LEDS become a flurry of red and golden patterns with occasional green trying to sneak in then fade or flicker out. With both hands now gripping the top of the wheel in a wide outstretched grip, he raises both feet off the wheel, extending his body out while facing down. As if flying midair for two spins, one foot comes back down and then flares back out making the wheel spin faster and faster all in sync with the patterns of the LEDS conveying the flurry of intense magic and emotion at the pinnacle of Blood elven society. He suddenly locks his shoulders and forces the wheel to make tighter spins as it starts to fall with his back to the ground! Resembling a coin losing speed as it becomes flatter it seems he might fall on his back with the wheel at any moment. The LEDs a flurry of confusing flashing colors trapping him inside the chaos showing just how difficult this move and the emotions he’s portraying are. His body remains locked, keeping him from falling and at the last second he throws himself into a handspring then brings the wheel and himself erect once more.

The stage backdrop became a giant violet dome with the night sky above it. The LEDs of his wheel and leggings are now variations of blues, violets, silvers and pinks, reflecting the colors of the Nightborne. Slipping out of the wheel, he keeps it spinning as both hands push it on a course with just enough force to keep the wheel freely orbiting around him. Kon stands at the center as his head turns down and eyes close as he brings his arms up across his chest as if holding himself. His right palm presses over his heart as he quivers, eyes opening slowly as he turns his head skyward, right hand raising up reaching to the stars. The LEDs suddenly become shrouded in a dark deep violet and the dome in the backdrop becomes swaying tendrils of the same color. Konietzko grasps at his head and mimics a blood-curdling scream without sound as his wheel takes on golden elements around the deep violet LEDS strongly reflective of the Void Elves.

Spinning on his toes he comes around to grab the wheel and with one more spin he steps back into it. His ankles together on one side of the wheel, syncing with the beat and a slight bend in his knees before pushing off still in the corner of the wheel. His body comes up perfectly parallel to the stage as the wheel quickly whips up and around bringing him back down. He bends his knees while it rotates and repeats his actions as the corner thrusts and momentum increases the speed of the wheel once more while displaying his total control of where the wheel spins and lands with each rotation. The LEDs swap between the prior color groups back and forth with every thrust.

As the beat picks back up the LED’s become a flurry of every elven nation’s colors in various patterns. Each time he spins the wheel a trail of color follows as starlight starts to fall around him. Placing his feet and arms both spread wide with a slight bend in the knees he brings the wheel to a fast rotation. However the wheel starts moving in a wide full revolution around the full circumference of the stage. Faster and faster he brings the rotation as his dreads spin about with him. At the peak of his speed around the stage, the LEDs and backdrop all burst into the kaleidoscope of a full night sky with stars of varying colors. Kon brings the fast spinning wheel center stage once more, back onto its own axis. 

Using his built-up momentum he rises up suddenly, bringing himself up over the top of the wheel as one leg wraps over the top of it and the other bent and pointing in the opposite direction. He raises his hand up high as he spins among the stars truly living in the moment. The LEDs of the wheel start to take on more purple, golden and silver hues all together, the colors of the Night Elves. After a few more rotations, he unwraps his leg and lowers himself back down as he shows his athletic precision, suspending himself from the top mid-spin. Feet tucked up, he points one toe down till it softly touches the bottom of the wheel. His hand comes out while the wheel continues to spin and flourishes out towards the audience at the lyrics of who cares if one more light goes out. He then stops the wheel in a slow and graceful spin as he steps out of it and then motions to himself as his free hand places itself on his chest before he takes a deep bow before them all and the LEDs fade away into nothing but that night sky of all dorei.

((A huge shout out to @lunethdawnseeker and the Ashes of Alar vendors who have always been so wonderful and kind to Kon and Talthorn every event we meet them at! The moment the thought occurred to write this performance to inspire elvish solidarity which Talthorn and Kon are both so passionate about, I instantly knew that the Banner of Accord had to be used within it so a big thank you to Luneth and their Tenacious Tapestries for giving me permission to use it in Kon’s performance. It has a very special place on their wall at home where they proudly display it as a sign to all who enter. All credit for the banner goes to them and their original design! The following performance was written for the @succulent-tart In Memoriam show 9.18.2021  - in honor of Chester Bennington’s One More Light and every fallen elf of every race we’ve lost over the years.)) 

#One More Dorei #Performance #konietzko #konietzko lumenstone #Heart of Tenacity #The Waltzing Owl #The Blue Owl #Night Elf #Kaldorei #Shal'dorei #Ren'dorei #Quel'dorei #Sin'dorei #Elvish Solidarity #Banner of Accord #succulent tart #succulent tarts #in memoriam #Children of the Stars #Chester Bennington #Cyr Wheel #roue cyr

[tiefling-queer]

...elf quebec?

ok, so my homebrew setting for my current campaign is this kingdom that has been shaped mainly by 2 eras: first, it was once ruled by a series of tyrants and an evil lich king in a dark age of evil, and then the townships overthrew their tyrants mostly under the banner of a gold dragon who killed the lich king, and entered the age of state sanctioned mercenaries adventurers.

the elven city of Arivaemista, in a pushback against near genocide at the hands (claws?) of a green dragon, only really joined the kingdom as a nicety - their priority is to preserve and restore the local Zuven wood elven culture and foster solidarity with all other elven populations in the kingdom. so in their city and the surrounding area, elvish is the primary language instead of common, though signs are printed in both elvish and common, and they use the seasonal calendar traditionally used by the local wood elven population as opposed to the lunar or standard calendars. so it's more complicated than just 'elf Quebec' but that was the joke I first made when sketching out the concept, and it's stuck with me.

#emo poetry #dnd #eha #if anyone wants to know more about my setting feel free to ask #at any given moment I am poised to rewrite goblins again and make another calendar #I'm still working on the underdark alphabet

[selowyn]

ToA 2020, Eve One

Selowyn settled into her quarters in the Argent Tent, her lips still tasting of hot cocoa with a hint of rum. It was warm and spicy, a welcome contrast to the frozen landscape surrounding the festivities.

The cocoa was from the Tarts tent, served by Trisandrah the chocolatier, and Ms Gloamingdawn. It was good to see Lynesse again - a friend in the Light. She admired the woman from their brief time together in the Waylight Outreach. Such a promising concept. Would that the organization could have survived the brooding reverberations of war!

Removing earrings, heavy robes and such, the Confessor made herself more comfortable, gazing over this evening’s “haul”: An amber necklace for protection, to “guide one through the darkness”; a “sun royalty” crown made with crystals wrapped in wire; and a gold rose from Creatively Crescent. (One might almost think she was attending this year’s Ball, for all this glitter and glamor...)

Sauveterre Estate tea blend, rosewater, and rose jam (lots of roses...); as well as Starweaver Rose wine, from the Phoenix Fellowship booth. “Celebrating Elvish Solidarity.” Delightful to see such celebration and honoring of ALL Elven paths. It felt wonderful to wander freely with all her kin, as well as mortals and immortals alike, factions irrelevant as all made merry in the brooding embrace of Icecrown’s hidden gem. She had even “dunked an elf”, poor Kaldorei dear. It was for charity, though, and he assured her many times over he didn’t mind! For this, she had won a mastiff plushie. Oh - and also a candy cane plushie, for her awful flirt with Dicenne, the ever-accommodating guild master of the Tarts. He’d waited in line with her to hear...this: “You must be a campfire. Because you’re SUPER hot, and I want s’more!” Thinking back to her companion for the evening, a warm smile lit her face. Ren was an absolute darling to walk with her around the tournament grounds. He had ensured she felt safe, carried her packages, provided her with food and hot drink. Complimented her aim, made sure a couple of gents speaking a bit brashly toward her were informed of her station... He’d even admitted his past crush on her...

Thinking back, she was always fond of him, as was plain in the letters they had written each other. Why had nothing come of it then, more than scribbles and glances? She’d asked and he asserted she’d acted uninterested. Was it that simple, though? Perhaps she had; but then, there were the complicating influences of Audemus and Melisande at that time. Fluttering butterflies of chaos and heartbreak! Chuckling at the thought, she put pen to paper to write a letter.

Why not? He’d admitted to enjoying being “pen pals” for a while. Happy that he was happy, she just wanted to thank him.

All in all, a delightful evening full of colorful, delightful folk. She was glad, for the moment, to be back. @renrael-wra    @dicenne     @gloamingdawn

#toa 2020 #ashes of alar #succulent tart #creatively crescent #toa2020

[abubblingcandle]

NADDPOD Manchester Summary

Just thought I did a highlights bit but while it is fresh in my mind you guys might appreciate a summary. If I have forgotten anything please let me know!

The scene starts between adventures on the deck of the Stormborn over the ocean. There are puffins floating on the sea below and a peaceful quiet. The Band of Boobs sails the ship down low and scoops a puffin on board. The next eight hours are spent by Moonshine attempting to awaken the puffin. She does so successfully and Hardwon names the puffin Peter. Peter is not sure about his new found intelligence and begins an existential crisis about how his life before was worthless. 

A raven flies down and lands on the ship with a note tied to his leg. It is quickly realised this is not Caw Caw and Hardwon laments that Caw Caw is off living his best life somewhere. The note is a note from Ren asking for the help of the Band of Boobs as his family has fallen upon hard times since the crick rebellion ran them out of town. He asks for their help to retrieve an idol made of arcanium from an old temple on his family’s summer island and offers to split the profits with them if they succeed. The band of boobs decide to go help Ren as in the end they could just steal the idol from him for themselves. Ren’s island is in a little archipelago of islands and has a lovely beach with a house built out of the cliff and an infinity hot tub over looking the sea. 

I can’ t remember the exact details of the exchange when they arrive but Rin things the boobs are hired help and tries to order them about. Ren offers them towels, Moonshine strips and changes into the towel. Ren tries to identify with Bev about how mad these poor people are and out of solidarity Bev also changes into the towel but to preserve his modest enlists an air elemental servant to help him out of his armour behind the towel. Rin offers them to stay for a dinner of puffin (much to Peter and Moonshine’s outrage). Instead they leave to the temple to retrieve the idol. Ren changes into an all silk Indiana Jones outfit and gives Beverly a matching one which he changes into.

They arrive at the temple, it is a temple with a stone carving of what looks like a bullywug king and some words underneath and the first roll of the whole session is a history check by Beverly or Moonshine to read some variant of elvish. Caldwell gets a nat 20 and identifies this as the bullywug language and translates “Squash the ant, step on the ladbug but be kind to gullywugs” (that was the gist can’t remember the exact words). 

Everyone tries to convince Ren to go first but Ren refuses insisting the poor people go first. Caldwell rolls a persuasion check and gets another nat20. Ren charges into the temple up the stairs and falls off a ledge with a scream. The Boobs follow him down and find the shit being kicked out of him by a giant stone ant and a giant stone ladybug. There is also a giant stone gullywug lingering back near a throne. They dive into the battle. Moonshine throws an unconscious Ren out of the way of the stone gollums and Bev uses Ren as a spring board to touch hands him and stab at the ladybug. They try to negotiate with the ladybug but it has plans on world domination, eradicating all other life so the world is only populated by ladybugs. Moonshine relates but it is discovered that this is actually only a giant stone beetle with spots painted on but he desperately wants to be a ladybug. Ren turns invisible to avoid the fight like the coward he is. They kill the ladybug but Moonshine promises to pass on its message in the outside world. Hardwon uses his new found Animal Husbandry proficiency (which Murph found absolutely hilarious) to befriend the giant stone ant and rolls a nat20. The ant lets Hardwon ride it and stops attacking, Hardwon calls him Anthony. Beverly dashes up to the stone Gullywug and brushes its teeth. The gullywug proclaims “you have been kind to the gullwugs” confirming that the riddle outside was instructions. Hardwon is devasted at the loss of his new friend but uses the towel to cover his eyes as Moonshine, Balnor and Bev finish the ant. The Gullywug gives them a key before disappearing. 

Caldwell gets a nat20 on an investigation check and finds a key hole in the seat of the throne. It opens into a chute leading into darkness. Moonshine shouts down and rolls a nat 1 on an investigation check. She is convinced that Cooter is down there as a crick elf is shouting and dives down head first taking about 20 damage. Bev uses featherfall on himself and Balnor and Hardwon grasps Ren to use his ring as they dive down too. It is pitch black but Bev uses the radiant light from his sword to illuminate the room through the unnatural blackness. There is a giant pit about 60ft in diameter with a plinth with the idol on in the middle. Hardwon throws Beverly who uses the whip from his costume to grip the plinth and pull himself up (another nat20 and after this one Caldwell kissed the dice and threw it into the crowd). Hardwon is convinced it was a great throw from him. Caldwell uses an investigate check to find that the room is booby trapped with spears in the walls. Bev grabs the idol and misty steps back over the pit. They all run and try to climb the chute. Bev goes first and races up, Balnor follows more slowly, Moonshine casts jump on Hardwon before climbing, Ren casts fly on only himself and Hardwon jumps up. On the way out of the crumbling temple Moonshine grabs a bit of the stone beetle/ladybug. When they leave the temple the idol has a prerecorded warning but Ren grabs it and smashes the idol into five pieces before it can finish. 

Turns out arcanium can be used to power wish spells and is nothing to do with the drug R-Cane which pisses off Hardwon as he only came for the drugs. They return to the house as nothing happened when Ren smashed the idol. When they return to the house Rin has bought some dwarorphans as slaves which infuriates Hardwon but he is talked down with a promise of the hot tub. Hardwon summons the dwarven daddies who have a great time. Moonshine summons some otters and it turns out Ren is incredibly afraid of otters. Earlier (cannot remember at which point) Bev gave Peter the amulet which upset Paw Paw so he gave Paw Paw some frosted cheerios. They free Peter to do whatever he wants forgetting he has the amulet and he flies off with it.

It starts to rain, getting worse and worse causing the hot tub to flood and the house to begin to fall apart. Beverly magics an umbrella to make it wind proof (another nat20) and it turns into a holy relic with the same powers as the amulet. Gullywugs climb out of the ocean and the king Gullywug is stood atop a rock. The gullwugs are angry about the destruction of their temple; they demand a sacrifice. The boobs try and sacrifice Ren who uses time stop to run away. Moonshine tries to convince the gullywug king that they can have the island back as their home and rolls a nat 20 on the persuasion check (Murph is getting more and more annoyed at this point with these rolls). The gullywugs agree only if the boobs help them fix the hot tub. 

Moonshine casts locate object on Ren so they can convince him to use the wish spell using the arcanium as none of them have the spell. They find him in a cabinet in the basement of the house. Time stop used Ren’s last ninth level spell and so they convince Rin to do it instead. I can’t remember the lie they came up with but Caldwell gets another nat 20 and Rin agrees to use the wish spell to get Hardwon a giant real ant. Moonshine also uses reincarnate to turn the bit of stone bettle into a real ladybug. The gullywugs protest the giant ant and try to kill it. Hardwon calls the dwarorphans onto the ants back and they escape into the sunset.

Quotes!

1) Murph: I knew it, I knew when I put the puffins there you were going to do this but I did it anyway

2) Emily: I charge at Rin shouting it’s a crick rebellion then stop as I just reach him and say just kidding 

Murph: Rin shits himself

3) Moonshine: Well actually you can have my towel Rin as I have never been more dry in my life

#naddpod #manchester #naddpod Manchester live #live show #beverly toegold #moonshine #hardwon surefoot