morren-of-the-underdark

[morren-of-the-underdark]

—Recovered Correspondance of Archivist Sorn of the Underdark—

—Transcribed by Archivist Sorn of the Underdark—

—Sent 1382.2.10—

Dear Morren Ardithdottir of House Duskryn

Where are you? What in Lolth's name happened? I hear nothing for you from weeks, then all of a sudden, Mother's disowned you, and your mail was intercepted!

The Matron said my name was on you correspondence.

What were you sending me?

What were you tryi

Why was it intercepted? What were

—the rest of the page is obscured by an ink splatter, likely evidence of a struggle or intentional obscuring of incriminating writing—

—This letter was never sent—

—All recovered correspondence is to be stored in the Solar Archive—

—MEMINIMUS ITAQUE CRESCIMUS—

[morren-of-the-underdark]

—Recovered Correspondance of Lieutenant Morren of the Underdark—

—Transcribed by Archivist Sorn of the Underdark—

—Sent 1372.2.3—

Dear Sorn Ardithson, formerly of House Duskryn

I pray to any god but Lolth this letter will reach you. If it gets intercepted, it will be the end of my place in this society.

I can’t live like this any longer.

Rich, coming from me, at the top of the social hierarchy, but I’ve grown to hate it. How anyone can genuinely want to continue this.

The house, our house, is blood-soaked. I cannot bring myself to sleep on blood soaked sheets, or relax on blood soaked chairs or even just to forget the blood it all, we all beget.

‘Beget’, I sound like Mother Ardith. If this letter finds you, Sorn, I am sorry. I, Ardith, Father, all of this blasted society owes you an apology. It owes all the men an apology. All the non-purebred and non-drow. All the poor. All the weak. All the common. We should be better than this, we need to be better than this, you deserve better than what we have given you.

All that to say, I am leaving. I am leaving the god-given red of my eyes in the past. I am going to find the Seldarine. They have every reason to hate me, noble born, pure bred daughter. I will happily beg to give them anything I can. They are doing good.

My best wishes, my hopes and prayers,

Morren Ardithsdottir.

—Correspondence was intercepted and only seen by recipient after the War was over—

—All recovered correspondence is to be stored in the Solar Archive—

—MEMINIMUS ITAQUE CRESCIMUS—

[morren-of-the-underdark]

Talya accepts the parcel with a smile.

"Oh, thank you very much!"

She flicks her tail, tilting her head as she thought back.

"Yeah, he's uh... House Baenre, right? Married into it."

"I was an anniversary gift to him, about 10 years ago. Not that that I'd long for you."

”Yes! Yes, that’s him. Gods, he’s been married for decades now.” Morren sighs, suddenly feeling every day of her ninety-five long years. “Tell me whatever you can. Is he alright? Is he safe? What-

“Hold on, ten years ago? That would be a substantial period even in my lifetime, and I’m aware drow have more longevity than some other species. Ten years, dear, Talya, you must let me know if there’s anything you need or can do to help. If not me, Malcolm’d be happy to help you. He might understand a little more than you think,”

A man with fiery orange hair, cascading around his horns down to his shoulders, pokes his head through the tent flap. “I hear my name? Oh, new face! Nice to meet you, I’m Malcolm, M’s second and eternal annoyance,” he grins at them, exposing canines sharper than a human’s, or a drow’s.

“That you are, Malcolm. This is Talya. She doesn’t have much with her, would you mind helping her set up here?”

“Wonderful to meet you, Miss Talya!” Malcolm bounces over and shakes her hand, tail whipping excitedly behind him. “I’m happy to help if you’ll let me,”

[morren-of-the-underdark]

Talya nods, giving Morren a small smile, clearly still nervous.

“Yeah, I set up my tent, it’s not like I could bring much with me…”

She looks at Morren, trying to reassure herself that Morren was not what she feared. Tail flicking, she tilts her head as she asks,

“So how long have you been fighting for people like me? For our freedom I mean.”

Tayla pauses for a moment before quickly remembering something she had read in the letter she found in camp.

“Oh, and I think I know the Sorn you mentioned?”

———

-Talya

”You couldn’t bring much with you? Well, there’s plenty to go around here. If you need anything, let me or Malcolm know, alright?” Morren routes around behind her desk for a moment- before presenting Talya with a paper parcel. “There’s a few knickknacks and and things in here that I’ve found are useful to have with you.

“I’ve been seldarine for 70 years now. It was shortly after my brother, Sorn, got betrothed and, well, I started to see the cracks, to say it lightly. Speaking of, you know Sorn?”

[morren-of-the-underdark]

Overheard in camp…

”I don’t care if you name yourself Godking and rule all Seldarine lands, that makes his life, all of their lives no less important!”

A yell permeated the air of the camp. It took everyone a moment to recognise Morren’s normally well controlled, elegant voice.

“Shame on you, General. Were you not fighting for fairness? For equity? Be fair, be equal, that, that was why I wanted to help you, to support you, to fight alongside you! Leave whatever this is behind, it has no place in my camp and should have no place anywhere else.”

A man walked out of her tent, looking thoroughly chastised and not at all living up to his fearsome reputation. The elected leader of the Seldarine drow appears to have been scolded by someone two decaded his junior, but given Morren was doing the scolding, no one finds any surprise. Morren’s gift with words reminds them of all the power held by the nobility, but none of the corruption, the hatred, or Lolthian ideals.

“I’ll be damned, Lady M. Hell of a scolding you gave him.” Malcolm, a known face and voice around camp as Morren’s second and friend spoke. When he speaks, he throws emphasis on words like matches in oil, usually sparking up whimsy and laughter, but even this solemn topic cannot dim him in entirety. “You feeling alright? I know there was a bit of hero-worship there, maybe even a childhood fancy, ey?”

Morren laughed, surprising herself and rekindling a mood of good humour, “There was nothing of the sort! You’re the one who’s made us all aware of your questionable fancies over the years, I’d like to pride myself on a little more sense.”

“Oi! Damn, but you don’t half throw axes with your words, M,”

“No, I don’t. The axe would land on my foot, and where would we be then?” Normal life about the camp resumed. Everyone back in good spirits, laughing, working, supporting in their hard-won paradise.

“Seriously though, Morren. Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I’m alright. I might run a few laps, let off some energy.”

[morren-of-the-underdark]

—Excerpt from Research Paper 126—

—excerpt found at chapter 2, line 168, in the paper stored within the Lunar Archives—

… upon the subject of eyes. All know and many hate the god-given red. It has been a topic of simultaneously universal knowledge yet lacking knowledge. Why and how do they change when renouncing the goddess Lolth? The answer lies within the epithet of god-given. Lolth abhors weakness, and thus it is possible the blood-red colour of the god-given red allows for blood-blindness, i.e, not being able to distinguish the colour red from any other colour, and thus being unable to see blood, of one’s own of someone else’s. The blood-blind phenomena has been observed in other species who can have mortal-red eyes, such as tiefling, dragonborn etc. this lends itself to the theory of Lolth’s scientific presence. … thus the colour slowly fades, leaving a few weeks to a month between first renouncing Lolth and the god-given red having faded fully.

—All professionally published scientific papers are kept in the Lunar Archive—

—MEMINIMUS ITAQUE CRESCIMUS—

[morren-of-the-underdark]

“Are you sure you are willing to take people in who might lead Lolth-sworn search parties to you?”

The newcomer mumbles timidly, not even catching your eye once, hands folded in their lap, curled up to seem smaller.

“And is just Morren really okay? I swear, it’s no bother to call you something more respectful.”

(I should probably sign these off eventually, but for now, I don’t even remember this dude’s name)

Morren sits at her desk in the tent, maps and missives spread about in a haphazard sense of order. She's all too happy to put down her quill and take a moment to talk.

"Of course we're willing to take you in. Your safety is valued, and a priority. You're here now, and you can leave when you choose to and not a day before. Even if whoever they are come to get you, you are safe here. They don't get to poach our people.

"And of course, just Morren is perfectly fine! Morren, Lieutenant, idiot, whatever. I'll reply, don't worry.

"Now, have you everything you need? Is your tent set up?"

((mod: the amount of times I’ve had to rewrite this because tumblr didn’t save my drafts Morren why must you have grammar and fancy speech. Thank you for first ask!!))

((edit: anon contacted me, oc's name is talya!))

[morren-of-the-underdark]

Lieutenant Morren’s Introductory Letter

From: Lieutenant Morren Ardithsdottir just Morren, thank you. If you must, Morren of the Underdark. On the nose, I know.

If you’re reading this, I’ll assume you’re new to my camp. That, or you’ve suddenly developed amnesia. (I’m relatively sure that’s possible? If that is the case, report to the infirmary and read this later)

To all newcomers: I hear annd understand your concerns. A noble-speaking, likely pureblooded, female drow leading the camp? My, you may exclaim, I came to the Seldarine to escape these people, as did. I understand this and will never hold it against you if you wish to never meet with me alone or hold me in some measure of distrust. Quite bluntly, Lolthite society is pure shit. There is nothing redeemable or excusable about weak-culling, about blood purity, or about one sex reigning dominant over the other.

Having said that, you are welcome in our camp. I am (unless on an excursion to the battlefield of a border) always available if you need me, and if you’d rather not meet with me for reasons above of other, my second-in-command, Malcolm, should be happy to help you.

You will be safe here.

My regards,

Morren.

PS- if you have recently come from the Capital and have any knowledge on a drow man named Sorn Ardithson of House Duskryn or Baenre, please send this to me, directly, in person, via Malcom, I do not mind, but please make me aware of his well-being.

Mod: hello everyone! Asks and interaction is absolutely welcome, I was just having fun with my character in my head and I thought why not make one?

Tags- ask morren is for any asks that have been sent in, house duskryn is for any posts about pre-canon, and archives for any posts about post-canon.

IMPORTANT NOTES: when interacting with Morren, you can specify if you want to interact pre-canon or post-canon, if not I’ll assume canon by default. Pre-canon era is her adulthood/teenage up to becoming a Lieutenant, Post-Canon is in the final negotiations of the war or after. Check tags for non-ask posts, remember if not specified, canon era!

For RP purposes: the only plot set in stone is that Sorn has to be alive somewhere, Morren's family are Lolth-sworn and highborn, and the seldarine will win eventually (we need a happy ending) (anything else will be added as needed)