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dnd-thrrasir · 1 year

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So a few months ago, I proposed the idea of writing short little story snippets- scenes that take place between two of the NPC characters that further their story arcs within the greater Thrrasir campaign narrative, but that either wouldn't happen in the party's presence or would involve a lot of the party awkwardly standing around and third-wheeling. Which isn't fun roleplay! You guys seemed onboard for that idea, so here's the first such story. It takes place the same night as the most recent session ended.

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Coming Clean

"I need to talk to you," Fen whispered under their breath as the last few bars of music were ringing across the dance floor. "Meet me in the lounge? After the party ends, once everyone goes to bed."

It had always impressed Fen a little, how well the illusion of a wood elf mirrored Wagner's true expressions beneath. The pale honey-brown eyes looked nothing at all like the tiefling's true slitted gold eyes, and yet they widened with his surprise in the exact same way. Wagner gave a hair of a nod, before the end of the song forced the two of them to change partners yet again.

Wagner and Ishvi ended up leaving before Fen did, which didn't surprise them. The paladins may have claimed they were fully healed from the previous day's wounds, but such a speed healing would almost certainly have drained some of their personal energy, to say nothing of any lingering emotional exhaustion. Fen deliberately lingered, though, waiting until they saw the tiefling Lucky finally wander out. After Doryen's warning earlier in the evening, they knew that they would have to be careful around him.

And this conversation was going to be hard enough without the anxiety of a potential eavesdropper.

Still, they waited just a bit longer, to be sure that Lucky had really gone to bed, before finally bidding their own goodnight to the others. Once they arrived at the lounge, they were relieved to find that Wagner was indeed waiting there. Unsurprisingly he had a book on his lap, though he slipped a page marker into it and set it aside when Fen walked into the room. From the way his eyes lit up Fen could tell they were about to receive an enthusiastic greeting, and hurriedly put a finger to their lips. Confused, but compliant, Wagner waiting in silence as, closing the door behind themselves, Fen checked behind every stick of furniture in the room before finally coming to sit beside their boyfriend on one of the sofas.

"Expecting someone?" Wagner asked with a raised brow. He was speaking Elvish, as he usually did when they were alone together. Children of the nobility grew up speaking Elvish at home, and for both of them the language was their most easy, natural one.

"Kind of?" Fen admitted, wincing. "Doryen, the lizardfolk you met? He told me that one of the ships passengers was trying to spy on us earlier. That grey tiefling with the glowing tattoos."

Wagner's eyes widened with alarm. "Do you think he's…"

"Not a spy for our parents, no," Fen shook their head. "Or any of the nobles. Really, would they recruit someone like him?"

Wagner's lips compressed, but he didn't argue. They both knew what Fen meant by the sarcastic "someone like him." A tiefling.

"Doryen thinks he's just… nosey, I guess," Fen went on. "A busybody. Either way, I wanted to make sure we were really alone."

"Good notion. And a sentiment I can get behind." Wagner grinned broadly, reaching out a hand to flick aside Fen's bangs. "It has been far too long since I've had you all to myself."

The half-elf laughed a little breathlessly, but shook their head. "Flirt later, you cad, this is serious. I… I want to answer the questions you've been asking me. About… what I've been doing. Why I'm here and not in Alu Lyth."

"Ah." the prince nodded slowly. "All right. I'm listening."

"First…" Fen licked their lips, which suddenly felt very dry. "First could… could I see the real you? I w-want to look you in the face, for real, when I talk about this."

The prince's brow pinched a little, but he didn't object. Instead he reached down towards his left wrist, and unhooked the clasp of his disguise self bracelet. The image of the wood elf winked out of existence, leaving Fen staring into a pair of slitted golden eyes set in a drow-dark face. White dreadlocks framed ears that were slanted, but nothing so much as a true elf's would have been. Crowning it all, a pair of eight inch long horns.

Fen's chest squeezed. For all that it was usually "Walker" that they had to speak with and see when spending time with their boyfriend, this was the face they had fallen in love with. The kind, sweet prince who wore his heart on his sleeve, who'd approached them when he saw them alone at a wedding and grinned without concern for those huge fangs.

The face who's shame and disappointment Fen feared above all else.

Wagner tilted his head, frowning. "What is it? You're trembling, Charael."

Fen flinched at the old pet name- a common Elvish endearment which combined the word "cha" for "half" and "arael" for "heart". Its implication was that the person being addressed was the other half of the speaker's heart. In a past time that felt like another life, hearing Wagner call them that had made Fen smile, and gently tease their boyfriend about how sappy he was.

Now, however, it was like a stab in the chest. A reminder of how thoroughly they'd failed to live up to Wagner's trust.

"I got into drugs, okay!" Fen blurted, clenching their fingers around their pant legs. Wagner startled at this, his eyes going wide, and words tumbled out of Fen's mouth in an unfiltered rush. "I was- it was awful, I felt so alone, no one wanted anything to do with me because they thought I was weird and mouse-ish and a downer! I just, I couldn't handle it, I felt like I was smothering, and then I met these guys in the market who said the diamond dust would make all my unhappiness vanish and-"

"Fen!" Wagner cut in, his voice sharp with alarm. To the half-elf's surprise they felt Wagner yank them into a hug, admonishing sternly, "For all the gods' sakes, breathe!"

Fen whimpered, torn between the impulse to pull away from Wagner in shame and to collapse into his embrace. The later won out, Fen slumping against Wagner's shoulder with a moan of distress that only seemed to prompt Wagner to tighten his hold, pressing his warm cheek against Fen's as the moan turned into a sob.

"I just wanted it all to go away," they whimpered. "All of the empty feelings inside of me. And it helped, it helped, but then when it wore off I just felt guilty on top of everything else, and they started, s-started to pump me for information about the university and what w-was being studied there, and by th-then I needed it so bad I…"

They hiccuped, and Wagner buried his fingers in their hair. "Gods. I'm so, so sorry, Fen. I'm sorry I had to leave you alone for so long, without so much as a letter for company."

"It wasn't your fault!" Fen objected, pulling out of Wagner's hold to look him in the eye. "We both knew that your ordeal had to happen, and that you couldn't risk contacting me while you were being watched so closely! We talked about it! I'm an adult, I shouldn't fall apart because I can't kiss my boyfriend for one measly year!"

The tiefling gently flicked Fen on the forehead, making them yelp. In a stern voice, he retorted, "Most people in that situation wouldn't have a shit father who insists they call him by name and rank and go by the surname equivalent of 'Bastard Brat.' And maybe it isn't my fault entirely, but you still needed me and I wasn't there. So I'm still sorry. If you don't like that, tough."

Fen groaned, slumping against Wagner's shoulder again. But… they did feel a little better now. Less hysterical anyway. With a sigh, they murmured, "The gang got broken up, though. Made me go cold turkey. I'm still… a mess. Headaches, nausea, all of that. The people I'm with now, they've been helping me cope. Especially since I got…" They swallowed hard, and in a softer voice murmured, "kicked out of school."

Wagner sucked a breath in sharply. "Gods; Fen, how could they…"

"I flunked all of my classes because I was laid up in bed with withdrawals so bad I couldn't function," they elaborated bleakly. "Father's disowned me entirely."

"That cruel, self centered-" Wagner cut himself off, shaking his head. "Frankly, though I know it's hard now, you're probably better off. He can't control you now. You can wander off with a band of adventurers and to hell with him."

That startled a laugh out of the half-elf, and they gently kissed Wagner's cheek. "They're good friends, even if they can be a little… you know. That thing where people tend to assume I'm less capable than I am because of the nerves. Being sick hasn't helped either. But I talked to them about it and they're trying not to do it so much."

"Well I'm glad it seems you aren't alone anymore," Wagner said. "I've only gotten to speak with them a handful of times, but they seem to be decent folk."

The two of them shifted position, so that they were sitting leaning against one another. It was a significant weight off for Fen, to have all of this out in the open. Timidly, they asked, "You really aren't mad at me? You aren't… ashamed of me?"

"It's a shock," Wagner admitted with a sigh. "But I'm angry at the bastards who were pushing the diamond dust, not you. Those sorts of people prey on the vulnerable, Fen. They're very good at it. And with the system as it is, you couldn't help being vulnerable."

The half-elf huffed. "I'm still ashamed of myself."

"As long as you use that shame to learn instead of beating yourself up with it," the prince advised. "I love you, Charael. I just want you to be happy going forward."

Fen smiled crookedly, reaching up a hand to brush their fingers along Wagner's left horn. Early on, they'd learned that touching a tiefling's horn was an intimate gesture, because it signified that the one doing the touching wasn't afraid of the horns and what they represented. Wagner in particular enjoyed the feeling, as his family were one of the tiefling lines that had skin over their horns, like a buck deer in velvet, rather than keratinous horns like some tieflings had. He pressed into Fen's hand, prompting another laugh from the half-elf.

"You haven't changed a bit, Niicoo."

Niicoo- the elvish word that meant "puppy" or "lapdog." Fen's affectionate nickname for Wagner, born from the younger man's habit of enjoying "petting" such as this, or laying in Fen's lap entirely when they were together. The tiefling's slitted eyes brightened to hear it again.

"Well, now that we have the big secret you've been clenching your teeth on out in the open, why don't you start over from the beginning?" Wagner invited. "Tell me everything that's happened since I saw you before my ordeal."

Leaning back against the sofa, Fen reflected that they couldn't actually tell Wagner everything. The stuff involving the Guild was a pretty big blank to leave in the story, and they weren't sure how they could talk around it without it being obvious that they were keeping secrets.

Then again, the stuff the grung had been up to in Alu Lyth wasn't itself a secret. Just how deeply involved Doryen, Virga, Tandy and Alyx were in it. So maybe they could admit to some of what they'd witnessed and experienced, while leaving out the most important details.

"All right," they said finally. "Not long after that last visit to Father's manor before your ordeal, I had to leave for the start of the new semester…"

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #fen #wagner #thrrasir side stories

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mortallycoiled · 6 months

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some big picture worldbuilding stuff;

So, the big three eternals (Hark + Lythe + Sar'kai) are the "creators" of the mortal coil, but it was not originally intended to be a universe with sentient beings, or even any sort of space/time/matter/etc. It was instead meant to be a power-sink, a battery of sorts.

Those in the Eternal Coil all have similar amounts of raw power, so having an external storage of power is the only feasible way to stand out in any way. An eternal can create a sort of pocket where they can sink a small portion of their power into and build up over time. Well-made pockets with a lot of power invested into it can also become self-sufficient systems, where power can be regenerated in the same way an actual Eternal regenerates power, allowing for the Eternal to invest less power for a higher gain. However, the initial power investment needed for this to happen is so steep that it's practically impossible for a single Eternal to start a self-generating pocket system.

This is why the big three co-created the Mortal Coil. They would be able to invest enough total power to jump-start power generation without completely draining themselves.

The creation of matter and objects in a pocket-dimension is uncommon, but not unheard of. It's more of like... a really expensive hobby. It's not feasable in any pocket without a self-generating system, considering it makes a portion of the energy in the pocket unextractable. Hark started making stars and planets as their own little project, and eventually Lythe and Sar'kai joined in because it is also their pocket.

This also means that Hark forcibly trapping Sar'kai into the mortal coil is the eternal coil equivalent of committing a war crime because your roommate fucked up your model train setup but tbh eternal coil conflicts are also sometimes just Like That.

but anyways the fact that the Mortal Coil has Actual Sentient Beings is kind of a big deal, even in the scale of the Eternal Coil. Lythe giving four mortals Raw Coil helped jumpstart things a bit, but they were ALREADY doing shit that should not have been happening. So the Mortal Coil is a Big Deal.

this means that other eternals are.............. interested in whats going on

eternals are VERY protective of their pockets, considering they're dumping parts of themselves into it in order to Get More Power, but a lot of the time the big three are too busy bickering to really guard the mortal coil as vigilantly as they should, hence a few have managed to skim off the top, so to speak.

There are two that are particularly relevant, but ill only be mentioning one rn.

The Lure is an eternal that does not have its own pocket, and is unable to create one. Instead, it has put an extremely tiny amount of itself into the Mortal Coil, and is using it to leach power from the big three. It manages to lay under the radar by disguising itself as a mortal, and is able to remain "intact," unlike Sar'kai, due to having only an extremely tiny sliver of itself in the mortal coil where Sar'kai had His Entire Being in the wrong plane of existance

#worldbuild #mc #ec #been trying to figure out WHY the mortal coil exists and also working out how the eternal coil even works but im starting to nail that down

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lythbounddrama · 1 year

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Please remember to keep the discussion related to Lyth and not to send asks about ex-members unless it's directly related to Lyth.

Once a person's left, unless they're speaking about their experiences about lyth(Even then, don't share without consent), please don't send asks about them. We may be a drama blog, but we're not here for gossiping about people who aren't even in Lyth anymore.

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understandably-odd · 3 years

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i love how your ask thing is "speak now or forever hold your thought" like yes. i only have one thought. just a single one. i sometimes have others that knock the original out of my brain

adskshsgs bestie same

#i based it off of speak now or forever hold your peace but idk why #asks #lyth (extreme tab hoarder)

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adventurepunks · 3 years

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Amor vincit omnia

@thedemonconstantine

In the great plains of North Dakota...or rather in the middle of Bismarck two necromancers had just finished a wild goose chase for a long forgotten journal that lead them nowhere, it was all a rouge and a trap that they both escaped and John had proved himself quite capable of thinking on his feet.

“I stick to what I said, power matters. Underdogs are not meant be victorious John” He’d let the youth bask in the glory of his victory even if Nick thought to himself it was all a tad too easy for a trap.

The sound of traffic would lessen and the ground would grow softer and softer...with every step more the would around them changed to the point that no matter where they looked only a sprawling meadow was seen. It threw Nick into alert for this tasted like dimensional travel, it had a taste Nick insisted constantly.

“Show yourself you f-” Nick’s voice was gone the rest of his cuss word mouthed as he protectively shielded John with his own body.

“Πάντα τόσο αγενής, Νίκολα (always so rude Nicholas)” Persephone was never impressed by the vile language humans employed yet his voice would return to him when his last cuss word finished being mouthed.

“Do you kiss your loves with such venom on your tongue, Nicholas?” she questioned and was clearly in a sour mood. The Kore, a bride of youth that looked no day over 16 in her garden of Elysium.

“Your Grace-” John would see Nick subservient for the first time probably as he knelt to his Patron hands open.

She almost never revealed herself and this was rather dramatic for her. To reveal herself to a mortal that had not gone through her trials...was she going to gift John a boon?

Nick turned to John to speak- and was interrupted.

“He knows who I am...do you not John.” Old Gods were not known for manners.

Their distance bridged, the soil turned to marble and the garden to a marble throne.

“I summon you for others fail me for you have love in your heart and perhaps you can withstand the curse” Persephone spoke sitting on her throne and would make Nick kneel again.

For he was a servant no matter his arrogance.

“This is to be your trial, would the one that holds your heart burden himself with your suffering?” she questioned a golden chalice of Ambrosia in her left hand and a Pomegranate in her right.

“How much pain is love worth to you John?” she plucked the peels and every time a peel fell the pleas of a man crying echoed in the chamber.

Nick got off his knees. “Let him go home..if it’s a trial you bestow upon me let him go home” Nick pleaded for Gods demanded blood and flesh to be appeased and John deserved better.

“He is not my prisoner. Do you want to leave John?” she asked for she saw the love in his chest for Nick, she knew that John wasn’t willing to be anywhere but at his side.

“Your choice John, stay and endure the trial or go home-” A pomegranate and the waters of the Lythe held out to the young man.

She would not explain, drink the water of the Lythe and forget ever seeing this domain, or be part of Nick’s trial...and suffer with him should he fail.

#thedemonconstantine #;;nick nolan threads #(love conquers all)

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talesnbone · 3 years

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there weren’t, hard feelings she would say, for the world that was glittering around her. matter of fact, it took a certain amount of effort to feel anything for the gold inlaid designs and people that seemed to soak in the decadence. Mercedes could hear Ani whispering about their sins. it pleased and teased something dark inside of her. as many things did. her thin fingers held onto a single rose she had plucked from the immaculate gardens. her soft hands hiding a strength that was so easily pushed aside. what pleased her the most, was the feeling of the thorns against her soft skin. despite all of it looking wrong, she could still tell she was herself underneath. that, eased something in her.

looking about the room in her thoughts, she laid eyes on one of the most singularly interesting people in her life. Faerilyth. she knew the other would haev some sort of thoughts about the evening and found herself craving to hear the voice she was so fond of. hoping it wasn’t different to what it was in their home. Mercedes knew her own voice was different and Ani’s had been slightly off.

shyly, she looked away from those that made eye contact. a soft smile on her face as she showed the proper respect while moving about the room until she got to whom she was looking for. “Lyth,” she spoke softly. her tone missing the sharp edge it normally held when speaking without the glamour. “they have living roses here,” she add as she moved the rose to be seen, her hand still gripping the thorns that was perhaps, painful for others. but something pleasant for her.

seeing the blonde satisfied her. she didn’t so much as say she missed her, but being forced into lodging with people she didn’t believe were entirely worth he air they breathed, well, she was a sight for sore eyes. “perhaps i will be able to grow my own.” @discnchant

#she waits seething blooming || mercedes #m.int.faerilyth || oo1 #m.event || oo1 #event || all #event || queen's ball #int || mercedes

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housedaine · 5 years

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General Information

Name: Lady Carine Daine

Nicknames: Cari, C

Age: 22

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Place of Birth: Queensdale

Current Residence: Queensdale

Profession: Student

Social Status: Noble

Appearance

Height: 5′5”

Weight: 120 lbs

Body Build: Thin & Lythe

Eyes: Pale Brown

Skin: Light Olive

Hair: Dark Brown

Tattoos: None

Piercings: Ears

Posture: Straight and formal.

Distinguishing Features: Pale blotchy birthmark at the right side bend of her neck. It’s often unseen unless one looks close enough or she’s spent enough time in the sun to darken it.

Personality

General Attitude: The skeptic, logical, good-humored, guarded, observant

Intelligence: Well read & educated. Student of Business Law & Finance

Sociability: Reserved, more sociable with drinks

Spirituality: Religiously aware, any practice or mention is out of formality than genuine belief.

Likes: Riddles, puzzles, mysteries, research & study, reading, ballet, music, time with family.

Dislikes: Cheap quality be it personality, aesthetic, or material; posers, general and specific disorder, poor organization.

Fears: Not Excelling, Public speaking nude, things that crawl

Goals: Finishing her Business Law degree, being useful in helping her family recover their losses, Write a book and become published.

Prejudices: Doesn’t particularly care for the other races, and is generally indifferent towards the poor.

Relationships

Family: Arnould Daine III (Father), Therese Daine (Mother), Arnould Daine IV (brother), Celia Travere (Half-Sister) @tomasdaine (Uncle) @verity-daine (Aunt)

Friends: A few pals that live near his family’s estate. Enemies: Refuses to acknowledge she has any.

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Love Interest(s): None presently

Miscellaneous

Hobbies: Research & Freelance writing, volunteer work.

Guilty Pleasures: Skinny dipping

Special Talents: Playing the piano, singing.

Favorite Color: Gold

Favorite Food: Anything Elonian

Favorite Drink: Coffee & Beer Reliant on time of day

#Profile #Carine Daine

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pyrosophist · 5 years

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Not quiet. Not anymore.

[TW: violence, trauma.]

She remembers the world differently, sometimes.

Only sometimes. Gwedhril is never one to dwell on the past, only does so when she likes the taste of once-I-was-a-farmhand irony and a reminder that she knows how the world works, when it comes to aristocratic schemes and the usefulness of force and thuggery. None of that was new, when she became a Demon Hunter. She’d always been violent, and she’d always found a place for that to be helpful.

It wasn’t always like this, though — she wasn’t always like this. She never dwells on it intentionally, buried under mountains of ice and hurt and resolve, so it catches her when she’s dumb and unguarded: asleep. Dreaming, as one does.

So many siblings that home bustles, day in and out. There’s never a quiet day, between Mother fussing over her youngest with a pick and shears, or bright-eyed Lyth coming up to babble to her about something or other that she never cared to learn, before it came from her kid sister. She’s Gwedhril’s favorite. She’s her love’s favorite too, and she’s there too — so often there, part of home and family, even if she’s tall and gangly and white-haired. It doesn’t matter. Smiles all around.

She lingers so often on the memory of smiling. She’s not dour, exactly, but it’s been a long time since she’s smiled earnestly, in a way that wasn’t menacing or provocative or lackadaisical. Home had family, though, and she laughed and told jokes. She smiled when she finally grasped their family’s spell, to run her fingers along an edge to sharpen and strengthen it. She does so ahead of Ceana, who has more trouble — but Mother’s touch is gentle and her voice is easy, and she guides her oldest daughters kindly. They’re people of the earth, she tells them, living by love and tilling for livelihood; good tools are important. It’s okay that it’s not magic, too; it’s a noble thing, to cultivate life out of the ground.

Years later she’d look over her shoulder and be sorry, for turning her back on that. For placing her bets on death instead of life. For using their spell to sharpen swords instead of ploughs. She should’ve been sorry sooner, when she’d gotten into a screaming match with Ceana, and Lyth had run to her room crying, and five-year-old Cas was tugging at Mama’s dress in innocent, childish concern, because the strength had left her and she could only stand and watch as her family splintered.

(Gwedhril had told herself it was too late to be sorry, when she stepped out of their house for the final time. It wasn’t. She will doubt herself for three hundred years, and she will never know if it was worth it.)

Still, in dreams she lingers on love. Carrying little Lyth as she giggles madly, taunting Cas good-naturedly over early boyhood troubles. Warmth and familiarity with family. She remembers soft hands in her hair - not soft, but gentle, so sweet - and lips against her cheek, and soft murmured promises, and she

awakens so violently as to jerk away from the body on top of her and fall onto the floor, which bangs beneath her hands and knees. It’s a blur. There are hornets under her skin and she’s sweating, she never sweats, why is—

She stumbles to the bathroom with all the grace of a bull, to vomit.

Soft murmured concern and questions don’t console her. In retrospect she’ll regret it dimly, how roughly she’ll dismiss her. She isn’t hearing her, though; she only wants to get out because it isn’t right, none of this is right, she wants to rip the scales out of her skin and she’s going to ice the whole mansion and she’s panicking. It’s panic, is what it is.

When she finds her wits she’s in the dark and snowy cold, collapsed into some hillock clustered with dead and dying trees. Belatedly she realizes she’s hyperventilating, and wrestles control of herself enough to lean back on her knees and calm down. It’s a slow process, but the frigid night helps. It’s why she lumbered out of the city in a daze.

It’s not quite confusion that she feels, really. Her mind is in a haze, and it easily disengages from dreaming and forgets what had seized her so violently as to thrust her here. The cold is nice, until it dims and fades into the rest of the bleakness. She’s empty. Not empty, truthfully, but she feels empty. She has to feel empty, because the alternative is to dwell on the past, and violence and hedonism is always short-term. She could punch the trees apart, she supposes, but the urge is uncommonly quiet.

Who am I? she wonders briefly, and this, understand, is a very dangerous thing. At her core, once, she was simply the jovial, fiery young woman with too much quiet hurt and ambition for her own good. To idealize this as still the same is untruthful. She has done terrible things, become terrible things, and it did not start with devouring a demon and smashing its psyche apart — but that was the part that made this irrevocable.

“What are you doing to me?” she wonders aloud again, because surely this must be the creature’s thrashing, in some part of herself, that does this to her. She is only half-right.

It does not answer, of course. It cannot, anymore.

This would make her angry, if it had not been the norm for years. It’d been a special kind of silence, locked in the Wardens’ stasis.

She remembers herself just before the ritual, more than she remembers the ritual itself — the pain and drugs had obliterated most of that. Outland was harsh, as it had been for months. Allies were few and far between, and she didn’t shy away when they involved demons and demon hunters. It was the Prince’s will. The Black Temple didn’t become home, but it was a place that became hers, in part.

After becoming one of them, it didn’t matter much to her what had happened in the interim, between tasting cold flesh and feeling frigid rot in her stomach, to waking up two feet taller and armored in scales. It didn’t matter, because she had become strong — she had become powerful, and that was thrilling. She had claimed this power totally and utterly for herself. Was that a good thing?

No.

What?

I’m still here.

She remembers suddenly the cold, but it’s not the cold of the present day. This is from a hundred years ago, where the surface of the frozen lake is clear, ringed by snow-settled trees. Except it is not a routine patrol but some spellbound simulacrum of hate and pain and trauma, where there is a massive demon with its claws around her neck.

It could angle and shred her to pieces, but she (it) understands — that wouldn’t get the message quite right. So she suffocates and then she drowns when it raises her up and slams her beneath the ice, and the cold is everywhere and it’s in her lungs and burning and she can’t breath and this monster is going to kill her. She’s going to die, and it’s going to wear her skin and kill everything and everyone.

No, please, cries a little girl who may have maintained a sense of herself, had this not happened. It is a tragedy that she cannot. Power does not come of peace and rightness, she has learned all her life.

So, she struggles. She struggles in blind, blurring panic, because she is strong and she will not go down without a fight, gods damnit, so panic turns to fury and she gouges out its eyes with her nails. It roars; she reaches for its horn, and doesn’t register anything besides the heaving pull of her strength (because she is strong), and now it struggles. It makes a good weapon. She plunges it behind its jaw, angles up, and kills it.

How many times more? She cannot know. Memories of better things filter into this, becoming tainted by blood and shattering violence, as she kills her demon and devours it over and over.

They are back at the frigid lake, this last time, and they have both learned so much of each other. She learned more; it is beneath her, because she had dazed it against a tree and used a rock to break its bones, even though it is much larger than her. That counts for something, at least - blood steams from the wounds, though the adrenaline blots out the broken ribs. So does the hunger.

This is how it is supposed to go: she kills her demon, devours it, and binds it within herself at last. But oh, it could not be so simple. Not for her.

So she brings the rock down on its face, its hard-plated muzzle of ugly edges and sharp teeth, and eventually it gives. It is gruesome; it is a cruel thing, that she does, enough to shake the sensibilities of the depraved. It falls still, and eventually it awakens because some part of its nature allows it to, thrashing and bloodied and agonizing. She breaks it again. Again. Once more, for good measure, until finally it lays still, and she has so thoroughly claimed victory that the demon shall never be able to speak to her in words, never be able to rear its ugly head.

This sounds fortunate, for Demon Hunters who struggle so often in controlling their demons.

It is not.

It has just become her, now, because she gives it no other choice. She becomes it. That is why she wonders, now, who she is — because she cannot be sure how much of her is Gwedhril and how much of it is a monster that takes and takes and takes and enjoys the pain and despair it wreaks. This is not a remorseful thing, mind; it is purely selfish, self-introspective. Dangerous, too: she does not allow herself this for good reason. She was people once, and perhaps by some strained definition she still is, but that’s semantics. People are not supposed to be able to consider this.

And just like that, it.. passes.

She is herself, sitting in the snow, immune to the cold as frost builds and settles on her. It cracks and falls off when she moves, pushes herself up. She does not know what to do with the memory, and part of her doesn’t engage with it, because it is memory and dream and does not matter. So she has told herself. But.

But, the world is different. How? She cannot tell at first, just that it is, but something compels her to walk forward through the dead forest, underneath the wiry grasping branches of the trees, and she slows and quiets and goes cautious because she sees things.

They are things she can catch only by spectral sight, she understands immediately and intuitively; though they obey the stretch of the land and the physicality of the trees, many do not. They’re green, hazy. Vaguely people-shaped, though these things emerge from the Twisting Nether in response to some shift in her presence she didn’t know she was emitting, and circle her. With interest? Of a sort, maybe. She will kill them, if they move on her. They do not.

On the air she tastes rage, and woe, and indeterminable grief and pain. Ghosts are ghosts, and linger for a reason. Still, it makes her consider — not in a compassionate way, not how she should — what to do with this.

She raises a hand, idly, and she senses the shift in perception as they look at it. Closes it into a fist, and some of them shuffle and almost breathe, because her closed fist promises violence. Release. This is their desire, because on some level she can tell that it is the only way to exert themselves into nothing and be free. A grin curls in her expression, and she lets the cold air and the otherworldly pressure fill her lungs, press down on them.

“Follow me,” she says. Follow me says the power in your presence, the one that called them here and pulls on them like gravity, because of course your demon knew souls. You’ll know souls now, too. Follow you, they reply, in whispers. Follow you. Follow you.

So she turns, and they turn. She walks, and they walk. She commands them to fade, and they wink out and drift into nothing — not nothing, but cessation. Good. She will not sleep with this revelation, but she will wonder at this new part of herself for some time. There are things to consider, counsel she should seek of her diviner. Through all of this, she will not remember the panic and disjunction she had suffered, and she will not realize that this is a terrible, terrible thing, that she has done, become.

Any price for power, however. Blurring the lines of herself and what she is becoming will not kill her, but it will do so much worse.

#my writing #gwedhril #prestige class story #revenant

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sapphossidechick · 10 months

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youtube needs to stop recommending this to me. babe you KNOW i'll watch it again

#lyth speaks #les mis #les miserables #george blagden #grantaire #exr #enjoltaire

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hriobzagelthewanderer · 2 years

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Thoughts on Annalise!

"...oh, her? I... heh, I guess I don't want to sound too ridiculous, but she just feels like home, somehow." The dark-crimson-haired giant, here, stood working at a table on some blend of dried flowers, leaves, and other bits of herb with a mortar and pestle, gently crumbling and blending them together... for a tea or a poultice was uncertain, but the resulting aroma, faint as it may have been, was both odd and comforting all the same.

"My first memories... that I actually enjoy reminiscing, at least... were of a bakery, run by the woman who brought me in from the cold and harsh forests - a woman with slightly webbed ears, silvery-white hair despite her clear and present youth, and hints of scale here and there at times that, if anything, seemed more beautiful than scary to a tiny little kid like I was back then. Maybe its wrong to compare that woman, who I would come to love and care for as my Mutti, to Anna, but... in a way it just makes too much sense. She, too, is a dragon, living in fair isolation for her own reasons, with clear trauma underneath her gentleness and care, and yet even then I would never confuse the two... Lyth Vaer was, is, and forever will be a bit of a stoic, subtle yet unmistakable in her resolve and her composure, a bastion of strength and support no matter what the situation... Anna is too lively, too innocent by far by comparison even considering what she has yet to share of herself... but, maybe, some part of me just wants to do for her, at least in part, what Mutti did for me... if she'd let me."

The hands at work pause, as a sigh escape the lips that speak, before they pour the dried mixture of fine powder into a thin paper-like bag, tying off the end with a tiny strand of string and putting it aside. "...and, who knows... if things progress further from there, as friends or otherwise, I wouldn't deny or find it unreasonable. She's genuinely kind and easy to be comfortable around, and if I bring any of that to her life in turn then I'm happy. She's attractive in more ways than one, I won't deny that... even now, though, I find it almost impossible to read others on matters of the heart. I simply have to trust her to make her intentions known, if and when she's ready..."

#ic #dragonskxn #melodiadraconis #the draconic skin shifter #hriob answers asks #ask memes #the draconic adoptive parent #of bright wings and cloaked hearts

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dnd-thrrasir · 5 years

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Another NPC the party met at the most recent session, this is Furrl, a worg who wandered into Alu Lyth for unknown reasons only to get poisoned by panicked townsfolk who mistook him for a monster. Despite how they look, worg actually are intelligent, able to speak both their own language and goblin. They also have a very keen sense of smell, and Furrl was able to detect Marshmallow’s presence on Tandy’s head despite the faerie dragon being invisible at the time.

#dungons and dragons #D&D #worg #npc #furrl

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gothify1 · 5 years

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Celebrities: They love spring as much as you do. It seems like celebs are out and about more in spring than other seasons (isn't everyone?), and they've clearly been eager to shed winter's layers in favor of dresses, white denim, and crop tops. That said, you don't necessarily have to show a ton of skin in order to embrace the mild spring weather. Kate Middleton and Priyanka Chopra are proof of that. Just as we did this past winter and for previous seasons, we chose the very best celebrity outfits of spring 2019 thus far. As you'll see below, spring has already provided plenty of celebrity outfit inspiration, and we still have a solid two months left to go before summer officially arrives. And you know what that means: a lot more spring outfits left to plan. So with that in mind, scroll on to see which 11 celebrity outfits we've lost it over this spring, and shop the key pieces you'll need to pull them off yourself. This is the definition of a transitional outfit: adding a light jacket and ankle boots to a summery piece. On Priyanka Chopra: Reformation Samson Two Piece ($248); By Far bag Between the oversize blazer, baggy jeans, and hint of neon, Hailey Bieber couldn't have been more on trend with this look if she tried. On Hailey Bieber: Acne Studios Beige Linen Jana Blazer ($750); Brandy Melville tank top; Maison Margiela jeans; Balenciaga bag and Square Knife Pumps ($950) This look is difficult to replicate if you don't have the budget for Ralph & Russo, but it made our jaws drop nonetheless. On Gemma Chan: Ralph & Russo top and pants This just might be our favorite Gigi Coachella look of all time. It was perfectly festival-appropriate without being cliché, and that Ganni vest speaks for itself. On Gigi Hadid: Le Specs The Outlaw Sunglasses ($109); Ganni Tie-Dye Vest ($475); Alyx pants; Dr. Martens Black 1460 Mono Lace-Up Boots ($140) There's a lot to love about this look that Graham just wore for Gigi Hadid's birthday party, but the chain belt might be our favorite element. On Ashley Graham: Levi's Made & Crafted denim jacket; Fendi bag Rihanna technically wore this at the end of January, but she was clearly ready for spring early with this pretty outfit. On Rihanna: Y/Project Boxy Fit Blazer ($1458); Callipygian Bias Skirt ($195); Fendi bag; Manolo Blahnik shoes EmRata loves a good matching set, and we love her decision to pair it with sneakers. On Emily Ratajkowski: Oliver Peoples sunglasses; Celine bag Thanks in part to her new stylist, Kate Middleton has had a bit of a new look this year, and as you can see, it's working out well for her. On Kate Middleton: Gucci Silk Satin Shirt ($1300); Aspinal of London Midi Mayfair Bag ($870); Gianvito Rossi Suede Pointed-Toe Pumps with Chunky Heel ($695) For her 21st birthday, Elle Fanning wore the perfect party outfit. Take note for when your summer party invites start rolling in this year. On Elle Fanning: For Love and Lemons Georgina Swing Dress ($282); Chanel bag We applaud Kendall Jenner's decision to wear this minidress with an It bag and grandma heels, both of which made it look even cooler. On Kendall Jenner: Are You Am I Lyth Hoops $140); Christopher Kane dress; Chloé C Bag Mini ($1278); Stuart Weitzman Edith Pumps ($256) Kate Bosworth embarked on Coachella weekend one in a full Miu Miu look in on-trend beige, and it was clearly a success. On Kate Bosworth: Miu Miu Drill Jacket ($1360), Denim Cropped Jeans ($990), and Summer Plexi Slides ($590) Next up, 11 summer wardrobe staples women over 40 never forget to buy .

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lythbounddrama · 1 year

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My brain still hurts from the update. I’m just really baffled they thought the new species had anything special enough to be added, so since I’m kinda huffy let me rant a little bit.

Too many of these species just look like a different kind of Nitpicki, and I didn’t even like those to begin with. Their lore? Honestly laughably vague. (Like most of em but they don’t even have any particular intrigue)

Fabremon? Boring, we already have “inorganic species made with magic” with a bunch of companions. In concept they’re too similar to fuwa bozu and in design they’re basically just “small animal in hood”. Their lore? Weirdly not about them? It mentions how Faerilees went to war with chaotic forces and how fallen Allies would be resurrected to fight their friends in monstrous plush bodies, and like, huh??? Absolutely NOTHING on the Faerilee page mentions this shit but here it all is on the Fabremon one! Oh but don’t worry, Fabremon aren’t actually those things, they’re just recreations of that genuinely awful concept using purified gemstones that put a (still sometimes unwilling???) soul into their body! How charming. /s No but really who invented them, because you’d think the Faerilees would, I dunno, hate that???

Speaking of Faerilees, you can really tell this is a species geared towards Minka’s cutesie style because they have zero substance outside of that. Supposedly born from dandelions, their baby forms are fluffy puffs, but they do not have anything to do with dandelions in their design after that. Unlike that weirdly dark mention in the Fabremon page, their own origin is just this fluffy 3 sentences about a child making a wish.

I didn’t realize Galibytes were primates until I read the page. They look, again, like a Nitpicki. I’m really not sure how magic works in Lyth because apparently even though they have cores, they can’t do magic. Cool, glad we’re throwing out another consistent through-line. Glad nobody gets to know whether lyth has consistent worldbuilding or not. (Well, they have magic I guess, they just have so little that they can’t do shit with it) Also? Can I just say? I hate how they name individual species specific magic energy because it’s just dumb terms like “magnet” or “photo”. Personal pet peeve but it just feels so lazy to me because they sound ridiculous. Also why slime…why are they made of slime… “born from a puddle of specialized primordial soup” tells me fucking nothing. They’re apparently not even from lyth, so did they bring their weird soup with them after their world DIED apparently?

Moving on because I realize I’m rambling too long. I think Veela look like companions. They’re so small and simple and they legitimately wild be considered “simple characters” based on the submission guideline’s silly “too chibi means not a fullbody anymore!” Rule. Like, just go look at it. And another good vs evil war species story? Write. Something. More. Interesting. I swear to the gods. It’s just the Haenym lore but worse, because everyone just flat out forgets why they’re fighting. Fun.

Lastly the new companion, Atenilee. It’s a shame it’s the most Lythian like design introduced despite being a companion. They’re apparently artificially made (like literally made of metal or material) which of course you’d never be able to tell anyways. They’ve even got funny subspecies that I do think are cute. Oh well, guess it would be kinda weird if essentially robots were characters of their own.

Bottom line is that I don’t like any of the new lythians and wish they’d just at least make them more interesting or something. Or better yet? Make what species they already had more content already. I have zero hope for anything not made by a staff member shoving in their own creations will ever get more content because I’m starting to believe that Jack’s got no motivation to work on this shit on his own, and staff’s motivation to work on their own self serving content is the only reason they have content at all.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest, I’m not actually as annoyed as I probably sound. I just think lyth could be waaaay more fun for more people so easily and they’re just, not doing that. And the fact that it feels like they kinda don’t even care is why I’m upset really. Love my OCs and drawing them is fun, but clearly this group is more focused on their own fun (that they get paid for) than anything else.

Honestly? I'm not sure they even cared about the lore of any of their species to begin with. The new species' lore certainly feels very out of place. And I've never liked Lyth's magic system to begin with because it's....not even a magic system. It's just 'Magic exists' and that's it.

Too many of the species added this year look like they could be subspecies of already existing species.

~Mod Zebra

#mod post #lythbound

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mhsn033 · 4 years

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Yorkshire v Derbyshire: Dawid Malan century puts hosts in control

Dawid Malan has played 15 Take a look at suits for England

Bob Willis Trophy, Emerald Headingley (day one): Yorkshire 280-4: Malan 145*, Tattersall 64* Derbyshire: But to bat Yorkshire 2 pts, Derbyshire 1 pt Scorecard

Dawid Malan scored a fabulous unbeaten maiden Yorkshire century because the hosts had noteworthy the upper of day one in opposition to Derbyshire.

Either aspect contain won their opening two North Community video games, with Derbyshire leading the race for high speak by four functions.

Alternatively the company, missing the abilities of Luis Reece, Ravi Rampaul and Tony Palladino, had been unable to capitalise on a pair of openings having won the toss and elected to bowl beneath gray skies.

Yorkshire fell to 40-2 and 106-4 both aspect of lunch earlier than closing on 280-4.

Relive Saturday’s Bob Willis Trophy action

On the England left-hander’s dwelling debut following his winter switch from Middlesex, Malan carried out on 145 now not out from 180 balls and Jonny Tattersall unbeaten on 64 from 142 after bad gentle ended play early.

Malan’s England team-mate Jonny Bairstow – of their closing four-day community appearance if both eradicate nationwide runt-overs preference in opposition to Pakistan and Australia – made 22 having been dropped on nought.

The characteristic of Malan’s knock used to be his dominant driving, every thru the covers and down the floor as he shared a third-wicket partnership of 66 with Adam Lyth (31), then an unbroken fifth-wicket stand of 174 inner 44 overs with a quieter Tattersall.

He hit a pleasant half of-century right here in opposition to Durham closing month earlier than a match-clinching 73 came in opposition to the equivalent opponents at Emirates Riverside within the opening round of this competition.

It used to be a helter-skelter originate to proceedings beneath the Headingley floodlights – which remained on all day.

Ben Aitchison had Tom Kohler-Cadmore caught at third plug for a duck, off an beneath-edge as he tried to head away alone, leaving Yorkshire at 2-1 within the 2nd over.

Within the third, Lyth then pulled South African left-armer Michael Cohen for abet-to-abet sixes earlier than Bairstow used to be dropped on nought by Derbyshire captain Billy Godleman at mid-off following an uppish power at Dustin Melton.

Bairstow went on to power three boundaries – two particularly convincing both aspect of mid-off – and pull yet another earlier than he pushed aggressively at seamer Anuj Dal and edged within the abet of.

That brought Malan to the crease and he added 66 with Lyth unless early afternoon earlier than Cohen returned to steal Lyth (31) and Harry Brook (0) all thru the speak of 4 balls.

But Malan remained in quiet contact as he plan about his 26th first class century. He reached his fifty off 87 balls, then his ton off 136, whereby time Yorkshire had gone beyond 200 for a well-known batting bonus point.

The century stand between Malan and Tattersall – playing as a specialist batsman, with Bairstow taking the wicketkeeping gloves – had also been confirmed.

Tattersall’s innings used to be understated however a extraordinarily critical foil for Malan, who later lofted Matt Critchley for six over prolonged-off.

Tattersall gathered and labored the ball well on the system to a 122-ball fifty and will hope to transform that into a maiden first class century in opposition to county opposition first and well-known of day two.

Yorkshire’s Jonny Tattersall:

“We’re truly proud of the plan in which it’s gone, and Dawid’s clearly confirmed his class there and gone thru the gears.

“I played 2nd fiddle and used to be searching to present him the strike and preserve ticking over. He’s so straightforward to bat with, and it takes the strain off me.

“We in actuality grinded them into the grime, and hopefully we are in a position to develop the equivalent.”

Derbyshire captain Billy Godleman:

“Having won the toss and had some helpful instances we’re valid within the abet of within the imply time. But that’s thru no fault and absence of endeavour from the guys.

“Within the well-known two sessions particularly, I notion they wheeled away excellently.

“If a factual participant will get in fancy Dawid and rankings a chanceless hundred, infrequently you may additionally state ‘well played’.

“I’m restful proud of the determination to bowl first – noteworthy extra so having considered how the wicket played, particularly within the well-known two sessions.”

Epic equipped by PA Media.

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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