#wolfsguard

[just-eyris-things]

🫂

Do any of your characters keep tabs on the Orr restoration? How far along is the process as of EoD? Are your kiddos enjoying dragon bash? Are any of them avoiding the holiday to do other things?

@mystery-salad

Thank you for sending in an ask, @mystery-salad !

Nia keeps tabs on Orr because she thinks she should since it was one of the biggest things she has committed to (with Trahearne ofc). She feels responsible to make sure it is beautiful again. Airell and/or Eyris also check in every now and then for Trahearne who wants to "stay dead" to general public.

As of EoD Orr is nearly fully regrown and cleared of the Unchained. There are already unchained-free zones where some braver people, mostly Priory scholars and sylvari, moved in.

Eyris, Freya and Njal are having a blast. Airell is having an existential crisis. Nia is in Lion's Arch with her daughter, spending quality mother-daughter time because she doesn't like the festival. Yvrell is at the festival but not to enjoy himself but to sell trinkets. He's the guy with the stall you don't want your kids to see.

#foxholemonster #eyris #freya wyldwolf #njal wolfsguard #nia furaha #yvrell #airell #orr restoration #mystery salad

[atopvisenyashill]

brienne x sansa

BINGO BITCHES.

LISTEN. This isn’t the sansa ship that will be canon but it is imo the most thematically relevant and it SHOULD be canon!! women who long for romance and companionship, who believe in those Knightly Ideals, one dangerously navigating the political and social role of women because it’s that or die and the other forging her own path because she’s not allowed to be a ~proper~ woman, a female knight who swears to find the lost princess and keep her safe, brienne leaving her home, her life, even her culture to live in the north with sansa and be her devoted knight, and she will never marry sansa for her claim like sansa fears, but will stay and be her spouse in all but name forever?? one of the great beauties of westeros forever in love with “brienne the beauty” who helps her fight the giant in the castle made of snow and WINS?? not to capture sansa but to make sansa strong, to help sansa keep herself safe?!!!!! this is delicious to me on a gender, sexuality, identity, political, and thematic level, i cannot believe this ship isn’t more popular!!!! my one consolation is that we’ll never get ados so i can completely disregard the show and have brienne be sansa’s lover in the north and captain of her wolfsguard and d&d cannot stop me!!

#briensa #asks

[a-song-of-art-and-fire]

Dacey Mormont, Lady of the Wolfsguard

"I have fought beside the Young Wolf in every battle. He has not lost one yet."

My second Dacey Mormont. This one's not quite as much of a Southron Lady/Knight as my customised one, but I went for a more upright pose than her sister to still imply a bit of an appearance difference between them, and highlighted slightly more plate and mail amongst the leather and fur to show their contrast in styles as well.

#asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #miniatures #minis #cmon #a song of ice and fire #valyrian scrolls #the north #house mormont #dacey mormont

[fairyscribbles]

Where Wind Soothes - Crypt (Sehun, pt. 9) [Chronicles of the Wolf series]

I love you guys. Sorry for being gone for so long.

I hope this will help <3. I’ll start replying to all of your answers tomorrow <3

If you need to refresh your memory, and I know you do, read this! 

Enjoy!

-

The mountains seemed even more ominous as you neared them, and you knew why it seemed that way to you. It was most probably a combination of all things- the sky was overcast, sun only slightly visible through the thick layer of grey; an omnipresent and yet still powerless deity, whose power would not reach where you were about to wander. The area surrounding the crypts of the ancient seemed match the atmosphere of a final resting place of dozens of warriors. The ground was hard and cold, and only the harshest and sturdiest of flora survived here, a clear sign for anyone and everyone, that this was not a place for the living.

All these thoughts came racing through your veins and down your legs, making it seem like iron settled around your ankles, and you huddled into yourself for security and the slightest, maddest of thoughts, that maybe if you cowered into yourself far enough, you would magically slip away from the situation that you found yourself in, and would be able to reappear back in your cozy and most importantly, safe house, far away from any wolves or deathbells or walking dead.

Bora didn't seem to be as affected by your adventure, and in the back of your mind, you knew you couldn't compare yourself to a person whose calling was killing of supernatural beasts. And yet you couldn't help yourself but be jealous of the easy stride she kept up, even though you saw the numerous daggers strapped to both of her thighs and the small bow flung across her back. In this moment, you didn't want to be a healer anymore. You wanted to become Bora, tall and strong and fearless, and selfless, so, so selfless, as she was putting herself in imminent danger to provide materials for a medicine that is so ancient, there is no knowing if it going to help or not.

Sehun kept silent on the road. You didn't know if it was purely the jealousy seeping through him that prevented him from having a civil conversation with you, or it was the stress. Maybe it was a bit of both, and it made you uneasy as well. Even if he didn't talk to you, he made it his point to stay near you, just an arm's reach away in case you tripped over a stray root while you were busy mapping your surroundings (however, you did think that there were some moments when the guiding hand on the small of your back was absolutely unnecessary, and the younger wolf was just yearning for touch. You let it slide, because the warmth of his hand made your fried nerves cool down as well).

You bypassed the main entrance to the crypt, a tall door with multiple locks strewn over the majestic wood as a clear sign that it was unwise to even attempt to disturb the dead. Many have tried, evident by the numerous slashes not only against the door but on the cobbled stones leading up to the entrances as well- swords, axes and arrows of thieves or just adventurers bored by the dangerous woods and abandoned villages, looking for treasure. Looking for fame. And after the fourth time the capital had sent the battle monks to contain hordes of decaying flesh wielding their old weapons as if they were part of their limb, the crypts were sealed off, guarded by protective wards which would make the intruders forget what they were attempting to do and send them off wandering into the wilderness, regaining their senses once they were far away.

Bora's sure steps leading all of you up the side of the mountain had you chuckling under your breath. "How often have you gone here, Bora?" you couldn't keep in the question, and the former captain turned to look at you over her shoulder, a slight smirk playing along her features. "I have a friend or two who recommended some weak spots in the chambers further in the crypts."

"I hope these friends aren't waiting somewhere in the shrubbery for you and little medic over here to slide away into a crypt to ambush us," Baekhyun hissed, making sure his suspicious voice was accompanied by a fake-enough swipe of the perimeter that it couldn't have been interpreted in a different way than a joke. "I'm sure that if Bora wanted us to be decorations of Wolfsguard barracks' walls, she would've lured us somewhere closer to the headquarters." Sehun piped in, offering you a hand once you were climbing higher on the rocks.

"Maybe it's something they like to do in their free time. Find out who makes a more fun hunger games for the guards."

"It's here." the playful speculations (only for the two participating wolves, Tao's shoulders tensed since the first mention of his mate betraying their pack) died down immediately when Bora knelt over a pile of seemingly inconspicuous rubble. Stone after stone disappeared, and an ominous wind moaned from the newly discovered crypt entrance, heavy with the stench of stale moss and rot. You came to appreciate your medical background, as the smell was something horrible to the untrained nose, as was evident from the way the wolves' grimaced and turned away, trying to guard their heightened senses.

The mouth to the crypt had a diameter just slightly big enough for you and Bora to squeeze through, but even as the former Wolfsguard asked Baekhyun to shine a bit of light into the first hall of the crypt, it was evident that there was no possible way either of the wolves could follow you. Bora turned to you with a tight smile.

"I know the layout of the crypt. We scour one, maybe two of the main halls, and that's it. They are big enough, and if the plant we're looking for is not there, it won't be anywhere else in the crypt." Squinting up at the sky, she did the math in her head.

"We have about three hours in the cave. Then we need to head back to camp, so we won't get caught in the dark out here. Check through your bag to make sure you have everything, and we can go."  

The last command made it real, and you could feel your knees buckle slightly at the idea of having to go inside. However, you kept your deserter's thoughts to yourself, as you knew that if you would show any type of uncertainty infront of the wolf, Sehun would press the group to abort mission and return to camp. You have seen his injuries. You saw the way it crippled him from fully enjoying his time with the pack, hell, the way it robbed him of a good night's sleep or a pleasant meal. And with every wince during dinner time or on trail, you also saw Bora's eyes flicker with guilt. You knew that if you backed out of the plan, she would venture inside alone, even if it meant trying to find a long lost herb only by frayed drawing. She knew that apologies by words would not mean anything, she would press on, more ferocious in scouting the territory, in preparing the maps, in sharpening her arrows and daggers.

One of those weapons was currently hanging on your hip, surprisingly light for the metallic appearance of it. "Elven," Bora quipped when she saw your expression. "Very light but still able to deal a lot of damage."

Along with the dagger, you had a backpack slung over your shoulder, and in it were rough sketches of the plant you were looking for. It was a petite plant, reaching no more than over your ankles, all delicate vines and small, round leaves with gentle petals and a reportedly sweet odor. If the colors of the petals were any different, it would be an ideal plant to have in pots under your window, or strung together in a cute bouquet for a first date, be it not that the flower itself had the color of decaying flesh and the inner veins were fanning out in an ominous black, like the skin of a corpse left unattended for far too long. They were said to recieve this discoloration from their primary source of nutrients - they peeked out from half open coffins in murky crypts, or on battlefields where none had survived to bring the information to their allies.

 As you checked the sketch again, your hands began to shake. The calming breath you took (four seconds breathe in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out) had no effect, and with an annoyed sigh you stuffed the sketch back in the satchel, pulling on the strings to close it. The paper was so old that you could only wish that the drawing was right. What if you had fallen for one of those books written only to scare people away from the woods and crypts? Who in their right mind would name a flower Deathbell, anyways?

It was then that two warm palms cupped your face, making you flinch away from the touch with a quiet squeak. You looked up at Sehun in bewilderment, whose face was clouded in worry.

"You don't have to do this." he told you, confirming all the suspitions you had before. Putting on your most convincing smile, you shook your head (or at least tried...it was hard to do so while it was held delicately in someone's grasp), patting the back of his hand reassuringly.

"This will help you, Sehunnie. It's going to be okay."

"It's not okay if you're in an enclosed space somewhere I can't reach you. There must be some other cure."

"But what if there isn't? What if this is the only way to make you feel better?" Sehun stopped to think his answer over, but you didn't give him the chance to say something stupid.

"And don't you dare say you don't need it. Your pack has wasted precious supplies if we don't at least try to get them." It was your turn to step closer to the wolf, whose glance was directed at the dirt on your shoes. Running a hand through his hair, you cupped his chin and gently lifted it up so he was looking at you. His worry for you was extremely endearing, and you reached up on the tips of your toes to press a small kiss against his nose.

"We will be fine. I promise." Before you had the chance to step away, Sehun was pressing his forehead against yours with a deep sigh, his hands slipping down to your throat, sliding down your arms. As his fingers entwined with yours, he slowly guided your hands to wrap around his waist, before he cupped your face again, being so close to you that you felt the breath from his lips fall against yours.

"The moment you so much as hear something moving in the crypts, you get out. Deathbell, no deathbell. I'm okay with being like this if it means that you're okay." the confession had silenced whatever cooing reassurances you had ready for the young wolf, because the amount of fire and passion in his eyes almost knocked you to your knees. The only thing you were able to do was surge up on your toes once more to press a deep kiss against his lips, hoping that it will convey all that you wanted to say.

I'm doing this for you. I'll be careful. I will succeed.

Wait for me out here.

Sehun moved away from you with extreme difficulty, his wolf howling at him to keep you in his arms, away from harm, away from the place you were about to crawl into that reeked of danger and death. He was rooted on the spot when Baekhyun light the girls' torches with an inextinguishable light.

Bora went first, agile as a feline as she slipped through the hole and landed on the crypt's floor with a mute thud. The height wasn't too bad, the only concerning thing for you was that you had to slip your satchel from your back to be able to get through the entrance and into the dungeon. As much as you tried to copy Bora's movements, they fell short and you landed with a much louder thud than the leader of the Wolfsguard, and for a heart clenching second, the both of you stood as motionless as the dead, ears poised to catch the slightest sound that you had woken what should never rise again.

As Bora gave the silent nod of her head, you turned one last time to look up at the entrance, where Sehun was peeking down at you with a mixture of annoyance, worry and fear.

It was the last look you saw on him before you took a quiet, deep breath, and stepped into the land which belonged to the dead.

The first thing you were surprised to see were the slight glimmers of light far in the crypt. Despite such heavy locks adorning the door, you figured there must be a priest who comes every now and then to check the grounds for any possible unrest. Your stomach still felt weak as you forced yourself to turn away from the lit corridor and inspect the hall you were in at the moment.

The hall that you dropped into was longer than you had thought, and what you had crawled through was a hole in one of the empty resting places reserved for the bodies. Looking around, the bodies were placed in cabinet-style stone constructions, lining both the walls of the hall you were currently in, as well as functioning as separators for different family clans.

Not every body was in a coffin, to your dismay. Quite the contrary, coffins were rare in the room you were currently scanning, making your heart drop. Most of the bodies rested on stone cold tablets, arms crossed on the chest. Even though most have been dead for many years, there were still corpses which clung to their weapons from their living days, as if they were ready to spring up and resume whatever battle had bested them before.

Pressing a cloth to your mouth and nose to guard it from the stench clinging to this place as well as acting as a hopefully effective enough prevention from sneezing at the unknown scents and large amount of dust, you took a small, uncertain step to the closest coffin to you, wedged in between an axe-wielding woman with no arm and a resting ground in which three decapitated heads were stacked neatly in a row. Ignoring the hollow looks in their eyes as best as you could, you brought the torch a bit closer to examine the cracked opening of the coffin.

You knew the chances were extremely low, but yet it didn't stop your stomach from plummeting in disappointment when there were no deathbells present. Fighting the sigh from escaping your lips, you turned to see where Bora had gone. Her torch was on the ground by her feet, hands gripping her bow and arrow, as she glared at the far away corridor light with torches, deep scowl on her face. Swallowing the question you had for her, you decided to sneak over to the next coffin (the clan you were currently inspecting had a total of four coffins to their approximately 30 bodies), trying to focus the most on what was important.

The lid of the other coffin was almost completely slid to the side, revealing the once surely majestic warrior whose hair was now falling out in clumps with the scalp, skin stretched tightly over his face and body. A huge hole hollowed his chest, most definitely the killing blow by something no smaller than a battering ram. However, his broadsword was laying in the coffin next to him, still ready if necessary.

However, no deathbells there either.

A sudden sound echoing in the darkness had you flinching horribly, heart beating erratically. Bora brought her bow up with lighting speed, aimed at the sound's source. It echoed again, a soft howl of the wind from the entrance the crypt now had. It was entirely possible that there were other holes in the crypt, much like the one you used to get in, and with the passage open, it was bound to happen that a few stones would tumble down, creating the scary echo. However, these rational thoughts did not calm your heartbeat, and even though they uprooted you from your petrified stance, it made your step quicker as you inspected another coffin. If your heart could have plummeted more, it would, as your new cache was without the treasure you looked for and the last coffin was still intact and sealed shut.

The main hall you were currently in held the bodies of approximately four clans. The different runes on the sides of the stone slabs indicated the names of the buried and the periods of their demise. If you knew you had more time (and your visit was much safer), you would love to spend ages in these halls, dotting down the nuggets of information that could prove useful. Warriors weren't the only ones who found eternal rest here - with the death of a clan leader, the maids, intelligence and healers were sent to the otherworld as well. You knew it was highly immoral, but if by chance you found a coffin of a healer with their tomes still with them, you would not be above taking it to rediscover cures for diseases that were swallowed up by time, and yet still made a comeback every now and then to wreak havoc.

Bora began moving as well, a soft sway here and there to make sure all the dead stayed that way, her bow and arrow still locked and ready to shoot. Keen eyes scanned the main hall, and yet they always returned to that narrow hallway leading most probably to a different room- crypts were often built with intermingling rooms designed for occasional pilgrims or guards, and so it wouldn't be surprising for you if it was exactly some descendants of the resting clans who took up the responsibility to protect the bones of the elders from grave robbers. Grave robbers like you, you realized with a wry quirk of your lips.

However, the light still made you feel uneasy, rightly so. It is strange to see something that so clearly indicates living presence in a place where everything should have been dead for decades. Trying to push that thought deep back into your mind (and turning around to see that the entrance to the cave is still a straight line and a few long strides away from you), you moved to inspect more of the graves. Bora was still on your left, snooping through the other clan's resting places. You knew that even though the warrior is checking out some of the coffins herself, you wouldn't be able to stop from checking them on your own as well. You wanted to get out of here, as soon as possible.

And your blood froze when from the corner of your eye, you saw a figure standing on your right.

A pained whine left your lips as your legs instinctively jumped away from the unknown character that was standing exactly in the mouth of the hallway that had you feeling uneasy. Your sound alerted Bora, and she was by your side in a moment, arrow already whistling through the air, aimed exactly at the figure's head.

His hand shot out and with a burst of blue energy, it knocked the arrow out of its intended trajectory, making your knees buckle. The person was clad in what most definitely were black robes a long time ago, but the time spent underground tattered the cloth and the dust ingrained itself in the fabric probably indefinitely. His hood was resting on his back, revealing an elderly man with his scalp left bare by his hair falling out in literal clumps. Two linear marks ran down his cheeks in the brownish color of dried blood, sliding down his neck and into the robes.

He tilted his head to the side curiously, crazed eyes bulging out of his skull as he stared at the two of you in extreme interest.

"Living brides? I haven't had those in a while," a voice crinkly as old papyrus cut through the tension of the room, and it was only then that you realized that what you first thought was just dust settling behind the figure were the spirits of two young women, looking both disconnected with whatever was happening to them, but sorrowful at the same time. The necromancer licked his lips, as if that would help the dry chuckle that ripped from his throat.

Necromancers were considered a myth in the capital. After they were banned from the mage's association, they were viciously hunted down for their predatory behavior and more than unconventional preferences. And yet here was one standing before you, and you suddenly wished you never opened the door for the strange party that went searching for you for help.

The wolves waiting outside must have felt the sudden change of ambience, because you heard distressed noises and a hiss of your name echo through the hole. You only had enough time to whimper Sehun's name back before the necromancer was swinging his hand in the direction of the entrance, and as the whole crypt shook, the rocks blocked your escape route. The wall shook at the hits from the other side, but the rocks did not budge. You were stuck.

You heard more whistling through the air as Bora tried her shot once more, only to be dodged by the necromancer, who did not appreciate her attempts at getting an arrow lodged in his eyes. Another swish with his hand had Bora flying into the side of the crypt, a hit tough enough to leave her crumbling on the ground to catch her breath. He frowned, looking over at you with an almost sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Why is your friend being so mean? I will treat you so well. Just ask the girls," he exclaimed, his arm swiping back to the looming spirits hovering weakly in the air. Your eyes filled with tears and with quivering hands, you reached for the dagger that was on your hip in a cutely valiant and yet apparently useless attempt to protect yourself from the menace standing in front of you.

"You do seem to be very docile dear, and I like that in my brides. She, on the other hand," he only flicked his head over to where Bora was already standing with a deep frown on her face, silently evaluating the situation, "needs to learn, that every action has consequences." Spreading both his arms wide, the blue energy that you witnessed moments ago burst through the hall in a blast that had you falling to your knees.

For an excruciating moment, you thought nothing bad happened, and maybe the necromancer was at his energy's end. Your heart lurched forward however, when you noticed another flicker of blue lights in your periphery, and you turned to look just in time as one of the dead warriors was slowly waking back to life, the blue flickering orbs illuminating the space where his eyes used to be.

The tall, lanky body stretched as if they were merely asleep for a very long time, cracking at the joints of their neck and shaking off the lethargy from their rotten flesh. A sudden clash of metal against metal had both you and the warrior jump in surprise. Bora had already engaged one of them, her shortsword looking pitiful against the battleaxe-wielding maiden.

It was surprising to still be able to recognize the deep hatred in a face stripped of all muscles.

"Aim for the heads, ___!" Bora yelled as she pulled a hidden dagger from her pouch and swung with her other arm, promptly dodging the already derelict helmet and striking the undead in the temple. The shieldmaiden stepped back from Bora as if she were confused, before collapsing into a heap of bone and rot and not moving again.

The bodies had a mind of their own. And their main thought was to fight.

With that thought you turned back to the body whose awakening you witnessed just moments ago and dodged a swing of his sword by a hair's breadth. You stumbled back to the ground and kept retreating from the numerous hits the evidently angry body rained down upon you, and in the process the dagger slipped from your clammy hands, cluttering pointlessly to the ground.

This was it, you thought. This was how you're going to die, cursed to become a bride for a deranged individual who preferred the company of aggressive dead.

"The HEAD, ___, get the heads!" Bora told you once more as an arrow swished past your shoulder and struck the incoming warrior in the forehead. In an attempt to escape being squished by the falling body, you rolled to the side, precisely on one of the already awakening warriors.

The shieldmaiden opened her mouth and screeched in insult, and it was an almost automatic response that you lifted the nearby goblet and jammed it into her head numerous times, not even realizing how soft the skull became. It must have been the magic that allowed the necromancer to give the bodies thoughts of their own but made them extremely vulnerable to being destroyed if you knew what you were doing.

You didn't know what you were doing. You were here to collect deathbells, and not to become fertile soil for them.

You stopped once the skull resembled more mush than bone, and you promptly turned over to heave your breakfast onto the ground beside you. Your whole body shook, and you wished Tao was there to stop time because you needed to take a breath, but the dead kept on rising, kept on turning their attention to the object that was moving around in the crypt the most. Bora almost looked as if she were dancing, the graceful movements of her sword slicing through her dead enemies that seemed to be coming in great numbers.  

The wall where your entrance was before shook every now and then, trembling under the powerful blows of the three werewolves standing outside, however the necromancer must have fortified the fallen rubble because it did not budge even though you were sure that under normal circumstances the rocks would have been sent flying.

Trying to shake off the sickness that took over your body, you reached out for the mace that was placed right next to one of the still resting bodies. Just as you lifted it, the magical blue hue appeared behind its rotting eyelids, breathing life into the dead flesh. However, this time you were prepared for it and you immediately brought the heavy, jewel-studded head of the mace down onto the face of an ancient warrior, sending him back to timeless eternity. Learning your lesson from last time, you quickly turned away from the wound as to not make yourself sick again and looked over at Bora, who was slowly becoming overwhelmed.

It was a while since Bora's last opponent was something bigger than a fox, and a horde of undead warriors was no doubt a formidable enemy. Even if their movement was sluggish and uncertain (if you had the time, you would ponder in fascination on what made the monsters move, since all the nerves would be the first to rot away and muscles were found scarcely on some of the bodies, the polished bones shining against Baekhyun's torches abandoned on the ground), they seemed to have endless energy, and if Bora didn't hit them in the head, they would keep returning. You could already see some of the wounds on Bora's body- a cut here and there, blood that seemed to be far too fresh to belong to any of the dead bodies.

In a graceful move, Bora sliced off both of her enemy's arms in two swift strikes before kicking the skirmisher in the chest. The body flew back towards you, and you swung the mace just in time to strike the head and put him out of commission. Bora was able to spare you a small smile before returning to fight against the others. Glancing around you quickly, you noticed not all the dead were risen. Maybe not all of them could be risen, for one reason or another, which meant that soon, all the enemies in these halls would be defeated, leaving you with the necromancer alone. The thought fueled you with some hope, and you tripped an unsuspecting skeleton charging at Bora before thoughtlessly stomping on its' head.

The mush of the skeleton stuck to your shoes like sludge. There are other rooms in the crypt. More undead. No escape.

Isn't all your fighting futile? The rubble from the entrance does not budge, and only the one above knows where exactly in the crypt you were right now. Even if the wolves would find a way to open the magically fortified locked entrance, they would no doubt have to fight themselves through hordes of these monsters and numerous of the necromancer's brides before reaching the two of you.

And you were growing tired. And even if she didn't show it, Bora was growing tired as well. Once you killed all of these undead, what then? Face the most probably centuries old necromancer on your own, who is probably raising more undead while you tried to fight off the crawling torso of a body that Bora couldn’t kill perfectly?

Your arms trembled as you brought the mace down once again, and that was when you felt invisible arms wrap around you tight, so tight you were worried that your bones would break like twigs. The air was pushed out of your lungs and the mace you held in your hands clattered to the ground with a loud noise.

The tips of your toes weren't touching the ground anymore, and you were unwillingly turned towards the necromancer, who was holding his hand out, beckoning you to come to him, yellow and rotting teeth grinning at you maliciously. You felt as if you couldn't move, no matter how much you struggled, and in the background, you could faintly hear Bora's scream of your name as she fought more aggressively against the lasting five warriors.

"No, fuck! ___!!" The necromancer was closer now, and the closer he was, the more disgusting and terrifying he seemed.

"You will serve just nicely," he rasped, and you glanced past his shoulder to stare at the two floating spirits behind him, renewing your attempts to wiggle out his binds in whatever way, because oh my god, you're going to end up just like them.

You had a whole life ahead of you. You just found a group you felt like you can belong in. You finally found that spark in your profession that seemed to be long gone and you gave up hope in forever finding again.

Looking so closely at one of the dead brides, you recognized her face as one of the girls who disappeared years ago from the capital. Word was that she escaped from an arranged marriage to be with her lover and the commotion died down after a few months. Seeing her now, forever bound to a madman, face void of any emotion had tears pushing into your eyes.

Bora was still fighting in the back, two undead with large axes keeping her busy, but she still kept glancing over at you, which cost her dearly, as one of the skeletons was able to catch her off-guard and slice into her side. With a surprised grunt, she turned and caught its head with a dagger, making the body crumple down in a bone heap.

"Eyes on me, darling." a sweaty palm gripped your chin roughly and tugged you back to stare into the crazed eyes of the necromancer. He was breathing deeply, whitened tongue darting out to lick at the bottom of his lip every now and then as he assessed you.

"Yes...yes..." he murmured, fingers tucking back the strand of your hair behind your ear. "You will do just nicely."

"Fuck no, __!" The sounds from everywhere were overwhelming. Bora's desperate groan as she no doubt got hit again for being distracted, the whole side of the crypt thudding in powerful blows, the quickened breath of the psychopath in front of you, breath rotten that made your stomach churn.

Is this how you were going to die?

The palms gripping your head heated up, and they soon began to burn at your skin, making your whole head ache as if put through a torturing device. The aching burn slithered down your neck slowly, spreading over your collarbones and sliding down to the tips of your fingers, over your chest and hips. You squirmed in discomfort, the whine slipping past your lips pathetically weak.

"It won't take long, my love. You will be a fine addition, just don't move. It will be all over soon."

The ache traveled past your thighs, wrapping around your legs and knees in a vice, and you almost felt your joints dislocating under the pain. When it reached your toes, your whole body pulsed once, twice, thrice.

Before it re-started its trek up your body, leaving numbness behind.

You couldn't wriggle your toes.

You couldn't move your ankles.

The numbing feeling was moving higher up your body, and with it, it was taking your soul. Your eyes must have revealed their despair, because the necromancer laughed, moving so close your noses touched.

"Why are you so afraid, petal? It doesn't hurt, does it?" You wished it would hurt. Anything would be better than the slow and deliberate, fully conscious feeling of life leaving you.

Everything went silent, and that's how you could almost hear the blood flow in your body still. Your legs hung limply from the hold of the necromancer. You couldn't feel the tips of your fingers anymore.

"P-please don't do this..." you begged, voice quivering so bad it barely came out.

"Just a while longer," the man cooed, tongue licking over the bottom of his lip hungrily. "Just a while longer and your mine."

The bottom of your ribs began to tingle. Will your heart stop when it reaches them?

Your life flashed before your eyes, replacing the ugly murderer in front of you. You saw your cozy home, filled with vials that helped countless people. You saw your friends, laughing carelessly over the latest gossip and every handsome man that passed by your table. You saw Bora and the other mates, smiling at you warmly and welcoming you, a stranger, into their closest of circles.

You saw Sehun. Saw his smile. The way his bottom lip jutted out in a pout when his older brothers messed with him. The crease of his brows when the scar on his back began aching.

You saw how his whole body relaxed under your fingertips, as you cupped his face and stroked your thumb under his eye. The smile that slowly spread when you were the first thing he saw in the morning. His grin when he succeeded in teasing you. The way his lips felt against yours.

And you tipped your head back with the last surge of strength you could muster, snapping it back with as much force as you had.

There was a sickening crunch as your skull connected with the old man's nose.

You dropped to the floor, head banging against the cold stone. Your fingers twitched life back into them.

Swishing sliced through the air, before hitting its juicy target.

And as you looked up, the elven dagger glistened from the necromancer's surprised face. The body slumped back, hitting his brides, who disappeared into thin air.

The wall finally gave, and you heard three voices yelling your and Bora's names, although you heard it as if you were underwater.

And just as your eyes gave to the darkness, you glimpsed it right in front of you.

A deathbell.

#sehun #oh sehun #exo sehun #exo sehun story #exo sehun scenario #sehun exo #sehun exo story #sehun exo scenario #exo #exo story #werewolf #werewolf story #werewolf au #sehun werewolf #exo werewolf #exo werewolf story #series: Chronicles of the Wolf

[starlightasteria]

Endeavour?

thanks for the ask! this was an interesting exercise. So far, it appears some 30 times in TINTB, mostly in the context of the vow between Sansa and Jaime, as a reassurance, a statement of intent, as a toast.

“I suppose, what I am attempting to tell you, is that, whatever your endeavours, you have in me a willing partner, and that will never change.”

He’s always been more of a practical man; scholarly endeavours have never been his strong point, but perhaps this planning will be more pragmatic than mired in philosophy than he might fear.

I’m going to make you the same vow you made me: whatever your endeavours, you will have in me a willing partner.

“Whatever our endeavours,” Jaime says, raising his goblet in a private toast. 

“Whatever our endeavours,” Sansa replies softly with an arch smile, touching her goblet to his before taking a small sip of the rich, full-bodied vintage. 

“Whatever our endeavours, sweet wife,” he says, bringing his goblet to hers in a private toast, and she echoes him with a murmur. 

“I am yours, Sansa. Wholly, irrevocably, utterly, whatever our endeavours,” he replies earnestly, a bit dazed, his voice husky. 

I love you, I adore you, and I want you, always, whatever our endeavours.

“Whatever our endeavours,” he whispers against her lips, and she smiles slightly, some of the hurt fading from her eyes, some of the tension from her frame.

 I am with you, your ally, your wife, your lady, until the very end, whatever our endeavours, I am yours.

“My love, my King, whatever our endeavours.”

And finally, after what seems like twenty or thirty flights down this wide stair, she understands that they have come to the Rock’s heart, when stair and stone give way to gentle waves of seawater below, when her husband sets her slowly, tenderly upon her feet once more, his hands, one warm, one gold, lingering at her waist, a promise (whatever our endeavours) and a vow (desire begins here).

“Now you have come back to me,” she murmurs. “You have come back to me, my love, my king, husband mine. Mine. Whatever our endeavours. Mine.”

“I will tell you now what you once told me: do you not think that I am afraid? But you have in me a willing partner, whatever our endeavours.”

“Believe me, my love,” she entreats him. “Believe me, Jaime, we shall conquer this together. Whatever our endeavours, we will prevail.”

Whatever our endeavours, he thinks, and smiles to himself. 

Whatever our endeavours, that will never change.” 

“I find your possessiveness of me, your exquisite care of me, your devotion to me - it is humbling, and I endeavour every day to prove myself worthy of it.”

That for a reason I can barely fathom my bannermen elected me, and that since that moment I have endeavoured to prove myself worthy of their trust? 

“Whatever our endeavours,” he says, a smile curling the edge of his expressive mouth, and she repeats the words, quietly, feelingly, raising her glass to him in turn and though they are surrounded by people it feels as though they are utterly alone, and so to break the spell because she suddenly needs to breathe - she does briefly think of teasing her husband by breathing more deeply than she otherwise might, simply to let the cords of this rather wonderful tension tighten more, because she knows that his gaze will be inexorably drawn to her neckline which seems to hold a particular fascination for him - she instead takes her first sip of the shadewine and her expression stills with shock. 

To love and protect and admire and respect and work with her, whatever their endeavours; that is the vow he made her, wholeheartedly, absolutely. 

Bards and harpists and all manner of musicians shall be drawn to our court because we will support their endeavours…”

Her endeavour is interrupted by a raven brought to her by Ser Leonidas, and she pales when she sees the Stark seal stamped into the wax.

“Me, the Lionsguard, the Wolfsguard, the conclave, Fortune and Lady - we will enforce your wishes on the matter, that I vow to you. Whatever our endeavours, Sansa. Whatever our endeavours, always.”  

Looking at Daenerys Targaryen opposite her, Sansa holds little hope to the success of their endeavour. The silver haired woman is glaring violet daggers at them, her mouth a snarled, petulant slash upon white skin.

Whatever their endeavours, she repeats to herself. Whatever their endeavours she is with him, and he with her.

She thinks, shocking herself with her own audacity, that Jaime would be proud of her bluntness, and the memory of his warm voice (whatever our endeavours) sharpens her mind, straightens her spine, makes her determined to stand her ground.

If I want to win I must understand how mine enemy  thinks,  and I would venture to say that you could help me in such an endeavour." 

Whatever our endeavours, I choose you.

#TINTB #jaimsa #sansa x jaime #Sansa Stark #Jaime Lannister

[praeludio]

— when it comes to canon events, i don’t think ramsay was the one who poisoned him, despite what roose and others seem to believe in the books, but i believe it was heke/reek #1 the one behind his death. of course it’s ramsay the one who gains from his death, but poison in general doesn’t seem like a weapon he’d use if he wanted to get rid of his trueborn brother. granted, he wouldn’t outright stab him or flay him, but i believe that if ramsay was behind it, domeric would have died in some incident ( a hunting trip gone bad, an ambush on his way back to the vale/dreadfort, something like that ).

— he values a lot his father and, while he sometimes finds it hard to be completely detached from some of roose’s actions and decisions, he never questions him, knowing everything has been taken into account and the decision has fallen on what’s to give their family the upper hand. on his part, ever since he returned from the vale, domeric tried to observe his father more and more, as a way to learn directly from him how to become a good lord and warden of the north later on.

— he believed in robb stark and his war, for a while, gaining a spot in the so called wolfsguard, thanks to his riding and fighting skills he improved under lord redfort. he’s open about his disagreement on the king’s wedding to the westerling girl, as he sees the gesture of receding the wedding promise to one of the freys girl to preserve his & her honour as a weak action from someone in robb’s position. winning a war is more important than honour.

— he planned on taking part at the tourney for ( the then prince ) joffrey’s name day, but he was still recovering from the “sickness” that followed his visit to ramsay.

— while not agreeing with the way his brother treats his stark wife, domeric says nothing, mostly because it wouldn’t do, while surrounded by so many northerners still more loyal to the direwolf than the flayed man, to show disagreement and division inside the family. he has no sympathy for theon and what ramsay did to him, though — way he sees it, the ironborn caused that to himself the moment he turned his ambitions towards winterfell.

— like with many things, he doesn’t question why roose decided for ramsay to marry “arya stark” but just accepts it, knowing there must be a reason his father is not telling him for having the once bastard marry what is believed to be ned stark’s daughter.

— he’s not really enthusiast of the fact his father married someone coming from a low family like the freys, despite their mutual actions in the red wedding; towards walda he shows only cold courtesy, but nothing more. 

— in general, both in modern and canon, he’s a very polite person, but most of the time it’s only faked courtesy; he doesn’t speak much and when stuck with people he deems as boring or uninteresting he hardly contributes to the conversation, intervening only when asked directly.

#( domeric bolton | headcanon. ) #/ / / don't reblog

[ao3feed-gendrya]

With my words I vow you and I (yet, words and wind)

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ftFXIE

by TheLadyMuse

So, um. If you don't like Cat, here's a Time travel fic, where, after defeating the White Walkers, the Stark kids dislike that she doesn't treat him as their brother. Oh, and Daenerys and Aegon decide they'd rather have our darling Bastard than a crown.

Words: 3919, Chapters: 2/6, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of When the world stopped and time began

Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire, a game of thrones - Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Underage

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Talisa Maegyr/Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Shireen Baratheon/Rickon Stark, Robert Baratheon/Lyanna Stark (Unrequited), Myrcella Baratheon/Trystane Martell

Additional Tags: Whimsical time travel nonsense, Theon/Sansa starts as a way to control him and becomes it's own love affair, Lots of people remember but it's not a certain thing, Time Travel, Wolfsguard

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ftFXIE

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #gendrya #arya x gendry #axg

[perceptiveknight-blog]

🌅

🌅- A memory associated with a certain location

The first time he’d visited Aurelis, its wide, open plains scared him. Perhaps “scared” wasn’t the right word; it had simply been that owing to his upbringing on rocky Grust, where only the hardiest of plants grew, he had been unnerved to see so much green in one place. For once, he and his fellows hadn’t had to pick their way across rugged cliffs where even one misstep could spell twisted ankles or much worse. The horses were happier than their riders to set hooves upon this lush paradise; indeed, they had promptly joined their wild cousins in grazing away as much of the countryside as they could.

The buildings, too, were unlike any he had ever seen. Never before had he seen so many of them topped by domes instead of spires, all done up in vibrant, earthy hues. Only the observatory chamber was similarly domed; perhaps the prior king had installed it after some diplomatic trip to this land. But no place in Grust was as colorful as this. The palace interior alone was adorned with vivid tapestries of King Aurelis’s and Duke Hardin’s esteemed ancestors, to say nothing of the citizens’ domiciles. Nor did the terrain permit the buildings to spread out the way Aurelis’s did—and the sprawl was done tastefully too, such that it did not detract from the landscape’s natural beauty.

And its people were one with the land as well. Belf had heard that Duke Hardin and his Wolfsguard (a knight unit not unlike Grust’s Sable Order) favored hit-and-run guerrilla tactics, tactics he himself disliked due to its seeming cowardice. But here he could see that these supposedly dishonorable tactics utilized the lay of the land to the fullest. At one moment, they struck; at another, they retreated, drawing their enemies ever closer to the places where they held clear advantage. It was easy to see how Aurelis had managed to keep its sovereignty throughout the war, and it made him wonder whether his own country could have done the same with someone like Hardin at the helm.

And then, of course, was the time when he returned and met her…

#meme #ask #location #Aurelis #draconiium #// thanks for the ask! #// app doesn't like markdown formatting why

[just-eyris-things]

Valoop hugs you. Also how do you treat aquabreathers in your own canon and do your characters enjoy using them?

I hug Valoop too. I feel so loved!

You see, water area is the hardest for me to think about. I don't have it cleared out yet, but I will answer to the best of my ability.

Aqua breathers are mechanisms keeping water out of one's mouth and allow for communication underwater. For the breathing part, it's mostly magic that does the trick.

Non-magical breathers however need an air pouch and a tube connected to it, pouches can be attached to armor easily. Pouches also can be enchanted to have a bigger capacity. There are also underwater plants which gather air bubbles under their leaves/in their flowers, those bubbles can be used to refill the pouches.

Some professions/races can do without breathers or use their own gear

When it comes to elementalists, they can simply manipulate water and air to create an air bubble around their heads. By elemental manipulation they can replenish the air bubble as they see fit. Some can even use an enormous bubble to keep dry under the water!

Engineers/asura can use their golems to traverse the underwater terrain and they can be accompanied by air-storing golems. They will also have breathing pouches and masks to be able to explore things outside golems in case of necessity.

Some sylvari can breathe underwater and they only wear masks to keep the water out of their mouth. Those who cannot breathe underwater can grow leafy masks of different plant-kind than the rest of their bodies. As the mask is naturally attached to their bodies it is like a natural aqua breather.

I divide revenants into two groups: those who died and came back and those who were born like that.

The first ones do not need to breathe that much, their bodies function a bit differently. They are not dead but they are not alive either, but they cannot be qualified as pure zombies either. They are an enormous question mark to everyone. They usually wear masks only to keep the water out. The alive revenants need aqua breathers like everyone else.

Out of my characters, Eyris and Airell use sylvari masks to breathe, Yvrell can use a sylvari mask but he mostly works with his golems and inventions, Freya, Njal and Nia use magic aqua breathers. Achilles does not dive, he is afraid of deep waters. Pirate queen Seadhna doesn't need anything, so she uses a mask to keep the water out of her mouth when she needs to speak.

#dasozelotvonnebenan #eyris #airell #nia furaha #njal wolfsguard #freya wyldwolf #yvrell #pirate queen seadhna #achilles skybreaker

[just-eyris-things]

Seasonal asks for Dragonbash! Which of your kiddos hate summer heat and find solace in Dragonbash being hosted in Hoelbrak ? Who likes zhaitaffy and who thinks it's disgusting and sticks to the teeth? Who's jumpy at fireworks and who hates Dragonbash just on the principle?

Ayyy thanks for sending in an ask!

Hmmm, Freya and Njal hate hot summer weather. They are norn and the cold is where their hearts are at! And Dragonbash is a perfect reason to file in paperwork for a few days off and go back to the Shiverpeaks :)

Eyris and Freya love zhaitaffy, Freya is a foodie in general and Eyris loves sweets, complete sweet tooth, if she could eat sweets only until the end of her days she would. Airell doesn't like zhaitaffy, he hates feeling like his entire mouth is full of glue. Doesn't mean that he says no when someone bets him to stuff himself with zhaitaffy. He absolutely will and then he will have Achilles hold his hair back when he's vomiting.

I do not have a character scared of fireworms, but as the years pass, Airell is growing more uneasy during Dragonbash due to his secret identity of a dragon.

Nia Furaha, my commander, hates Dragonbash though. It was fine when they were just celebrating Zhaitan's death, when it all just started... but now? There are no dragons left to bash, only destruction to clean up and losses to grieve. Nia thinks its kind of disrespectful. She, however, tries to keep it to herself, knowing that her norn husband, similarly to majority of Tyrians, likes to celebrate it.

#archesa #freya wyldwolf #eyris #njal wolfsguard #nia furaha #airell

[a-song-of-art-and-fire]

Lucas Blackwood, White Tree of the Wolfsguard

"Many of their sons had clamored for the honor of riding with the Young Wolf, as they had taken to calling him"

Planning to do all of the Wolfsguard, so expect that quote to get some heavy use! I'm also pretty sure they never get called that, but I saw the term somewhere and I love it. Starting off with the representative from one of my favourite houses, the Blackwoods. We don't know much about Lucas as a person, but he gets all the cool red white and black goth aesthetic of his house, and represents a nice meeting place of Robb's northern and riverlands kingdoms, especially if like me you believe the Blackwoods are ousted northerners from way back when.

The miniature is from a lovely new set, designed as Baratheons but I accidentally bought two boxes so I'll be adapting a lot of them to other houses! You'll note the rather crooked weirwood on his chest that used to be a stag. I've mentioned before, I'm an absolute sucker for the "huge weapon leaned nonchalantly on a shoulder" pose, and I love greatswords, so this sculpt was catnip to me.

#my little hiatus is over! #asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #miniatures #minis #cmon #a song of ice and fire #valyrian scrolls #the north #the riverlands #wolfsguard #lucas blackwood #house blackwood #riverlands

[just-eyris-things]

AND TODAY ON THE "CHARACTERS THAT EXIST IN MY HEAD BUT NOT IN-GAME" + some headcanons

SILENA WOLFBLOOD

Silena is a proud hunter of the Wolf Clan. In her family, having a "Wolf" in their name is a must, it's a tradition, as they come from the long line of the first Wolf shamans. Silena values the tradition and legacy of the Wolf Clan very strongly. She works for the Order of Whispers, she gives regular reports of what's happening in the Shiverpeaks. Her homestead is in Cragstead, although while both working for the OoW and making her legend keeps her away most of the time. Her profession is thief.

ROSALYNE WOFLCALL

Rosalyne is Silena's younger sister. As per tradition, when her sister beame a hunter, Rosalyne became the next Wolf Shaman. While she is more similar to their father, the eyes she got from their mother. She is a fire elementalist, her fires guide people in the darkness and cold to sanctuaries that Wolf shrines are. Rumors say that one can see wolves playing in her flames.

ELLAYAH WOLFSTORM

Ellayah is Silena's unwanted bastard child, the youngest of the three, her father was a Son of Svanir. While her mother did not want her to become a shaman as she believed a bastard should not be allowed to follow Wolf traditions, Rosalyne took her in gladly, saying that Ella is a part of the pack and their duty as Wolf followers is to care for their own. Ellayah is an air elementalist, people say that when she summons storms there are wolves running among the clouds and the thunders sound like howling. She lives in Cragstead and is a very good friend of Braham.

NJAL WOLFSGUARD

Njal is Freya's younger twin brother, and while most of the time people think he is the older brother as he is... less hot-headed than his twin, Freya is very protective of him (and her whole family, ofc!) whenever someone tries to mess with them. He doesn't like his name. Just like his sister, he is a guardian. He is in love with the commander, Nia Furaha. They get engaged during the events of HoThorns and married during LWs3.

HEADCANON TIME

As mentioned in Silena's segment, the Wolf clan is a long line of Wolf worshippers and shamans, the very first ones. They take tradition to hearts and they value family the most (found family included).

They claim their "Wolf" names around age 14-16 usually, by committing to various actions that include Wolf or wolves. They usually match people's personalities, hobbies, talents, or looks. Freya Wyldwolf claimed her name after spending half a year in the wild with wolves. Silena Wolfblood claimed her name as she protected the shrine from the Svanir and came out of the skirmish covered in blood. Rosalyne Wolfcall claimed her name as she was seen as a wolf whisperer. Njal Wolfsguard claimed his name after he protected a pack of wolves from Jormag corruption. Ellayah claimed her name after she first summoned a storm and the light from the lightnings made it look as if there were wolves among the clouds.

More at Idk-o'clock, after I come up with more stuff (or remember more stuff, to be exact)

#silena wolfblood #njal wolfsguard #ellayah wolfstorm #rosalyne wolfcall #freya wyldwolf #(adding freyas tag so i can find this post later)

[just-eyris-things]

A Mist portal opens up in front of Eyris, ejecting an armed and eager Quaggan. She quickly introduces herself as Commander Valoop, visiting as part of an Interdimensional Commander Exchange Program! What does Eyris show her guest that she thinks would impress a fellow commander, what do they talk about, and whose kneecap priviliges do they revoke together?

Okay, i needed to think about this because lately brain empty ;w;

Eyris is surprised that such a program exists, but she takes it on the chest like a champ and she shows what she did to her home in Tarir, mostly the egg chamber which got quite a lot of splash of colour, some nice murals on the walls (which include baby Aurene's paw prints.....) etc. Durmand Priory hates her! for "ruining precious pillars of history", or something. She doesn't really know, but she's still very proud of what she's done with the place and there's rarely anyone who could be interested in this, so it's a thrill to her, too!

But then Eyris admits she is not the commander and points Valoop towards Nia, who turns out to be on maternity leave, so she points Valoop at her husband who took over for her. Valoop might be confused because Nia's husband has a very similar name, Njal, which is...confusing.

Njal doesn't start with showing off his wife's or his or the Dragon's Watch's achievement, he starts at showing off his daughter whom he loves dearly. "She will be strong like daddy and beautiful like mommy and she will kick ass like both of them!" he says. Nia tells him to keep words like "ass" away from her until she's at least 15.

Then, Njal is very proudly showing off that even though Dragon's Watch doesn't work for the Pact anymore, the Pact has grown greatly, they have more outposts and are fixing Dragon damages quite well. Dragon's Watch is also slightly different than in most universes, it seems, considering how many people were on leave and new friends came in.

Njal then asks Valoop about her universe, he wants to know a lot so he can tell the stories to his daughter. He clearly loves her very much. Except for trying to impress the fellow commander with his and his group's achievements, he can talk only about his baby. Parenthood, huh.... He's aware that he's too talkative though, so he asks a lot of questions, he's genuinely interested in Valoop's story. Also, "A QUAGGAN COMMANDER?!?!!?! BY WOLF THAT'S NEW AND AWESOME!!!!"

And then Valoop (probably) thinks "they are all insane"

#dasozelotvonnebenan #njal wolfsguard #nia furaha #eyris

[just-eyris-things]

Freya chanting "alfa twin" over and over so loud that the entirety of Shiverpeaks can hear her, all because she's 2 cm taller than her brother (a little less than an inch which is approx. 2.5cm)

#freya wyldwolf #njal wolfsguard

[a-song-of-art-and-fire]

Patrek Mallister of Seagard

"Patrek Mallister was not too ill a fellow; they shared a taste for wenches, wine, and hawking"

Another of Robb's kingsguard, another lovely sculpt from DGS miniatures. I went with the mini arc he has of bonding with Theon before being told by his father that Mallisters and Greyjoys are like Jets and Sharks, and extrapolated the idea that sometimes people warring with each other for a long time end up with a lot of similarities, and gave him a kind of ironborn look. Then added in the shield and helmet for a bit more Mallister flair.

They're another minor house I have a disproportionate affection for - I want to say it's because of their status as guardians against the ironborn, like a nautical Night's Watch, but honestly it's because Jason Mallister sounds like a bit of a silver fox and I low key ship him with Catelyn.

#apologies for him not being based properly - considering doing a wolfsguard diorama #asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #a song of ice and fire #dgs #minis #miniatures #valyrian scrolls #patrek mallister #riverlands

[just-eyris-things]

btw Nia's husband is Njal Wolfsguard, a norn warrior and Freya Wyldwolf's bro, younger than her by 20 minutes :)