eldritchweave

[eldritchweave]

“I guess the only time most people think about injustice is when it happens to them.”

— Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye

[eldritchweave]

Embracing Starlight

Trying to take down a hag and save her victims from their suffering doesn’t quite go according to plan. Sometimes, being the hero isn’t all it’s glorified to be. Gale offers a moment of reprieve to mourn the loss of unmet ambitions.

[eldritchweave]

me: hmm, I should probably name Myrna’s rat familiar since he’s sticking around. I’ll look for some drow vocab options later.

Myrna: *looks at her rat and with no hesitation* his name is Breadcrumb.

[eldritchweave]

Joy Harjo, from “Heartbeat”, She Had Some Horses

[eldritchweave]

Northern Lights, Norway 🇳🇴

[eldritchweave]

✦Flower Sword✦

print

[eldritchweave]

“In life, there was so much insult and injury, and she had no choice but to collect what was hers.”

— Min Jin Lee, Pachinko

[eldritchweave]

Myrna looked back to the scroll sitting on her makeshift table, purloined parchment, quill, and ink sitting on a downed tree stump. She’d read over the spell scroll’s somatic instructions several times, yet she still couldn’t produce the Ice Knife when she tried.

With a huff of frustration, she dropped down to look over her work again, sitting cross-legged directly on the ground. She’d only just started learning how to pluck the strings of the weave with her will. Arcane studies were something that took time. Finally getting the chance to learn anything at all though was filling Myrna with an excitement teetering on impatience. She appreciated Gale’s willingness to teach her, more than she openly expressed to him yet out of fear for embarrassing herself, but this particular spell wasn’t in his repertoire. He’d shown her how to properly transcribe a spell from a scroll to her meager spellbook, but how was she supposed to learn the actual practice of casting the spell herself?

Her wit was quick, but Myrna had always been a visual and hands-on learner. Reading books about sword technique would never get her anywhere, after all. How could she shift a century worth of learning practice into acquiring knowledge in a new way?    

Looking across camp, she considered admitting defeat. She wasn’t going to ask Gale to waste his time learning the spell just to demonstrate it for her, after all. Why would he even agree to something so ludicrous? Patience was a virtue. She could hold onto the scroll until she advanced further in her arcane studies to acquire the skill needed of learning without assistance.

Unless…

There was one companion in her camp who she had seen cast this spell in battle before: Astarion.

All she needed was to see someone cast it up close, an active demonstration. Yet, thinking of approaching him gave her a moment of pause. The opportunity to be tutored by Gale had come about so naturally, his passion for magic a blaze easily finding the kindling of her long-standing curiosity. To ask Astarion felt like offering him a vulnerability. She wasn’t even confident that he remotely liked her, that well practiced smile leaving even her sharp intuition guessing at his intent.

She was used to being greeted by a sharp tongue if she’s lucky, or by an even sharper blade more oft than not. Despite wanting to see the good in others, the resulting weariness left her inclined to believe she was disliked. If she was lucky, her companions would at least tolerate her long enough to find a way of removing the damned tadpoles.

‘Alright,’ she decided, pushing against her pessimism, ‘worst that happens? He laughs at you. Shoos you away. Just… ask.’

Taking a deep breath, she walked over towards Astarion’s tent on quiet feet.

“Good evening, Astarion. I was wondering if you might be willing to help me with something?”

Unbeknownst to her, the edge of her left hand was covered in still drying ink and there was a small smudge of it on her cheek from where she’d rested her head in her palm while contemplating the spell scroll. As she made her inquiry, her expression showed her uncertainty openly, silver eyes meeting his red.

--

(starter for @astarvion)

[eldritchweave]

Private, selective, & mutual followers roleplay blog for Myrna Kil’ana (Baldur’s Gate 3: Tav - Urchin Background). EST. 18+ only.

Character Bio and Rules under cut.

Basics. Race: Seldarine Drow Class: eldritch knight fighter / wizard Age: 120 (human equivalent: early 20’s) Height: 5’2” Gender: cis woman Pronouns: she/her Sexuality: pansexual Alignment: chaotic good

More info about Myrna.

Rules.

1 If you are under the age of 18, please do not follow or interact with this blog. Both the character and the writer are adults, and this blog will contain mature themes. I am not comfortable engaging with anyone underage for these reasons.

2 I reserve the right to be selective in my writing partners and will only write with blogs I follow. I prefer having the opportunity to look over a blog's rules and the characterization of the muse before writing with them. It’s more fun for everyone involved if our characters are a good fit!

3 As an adult with a full-time job, this is a hobby for me. Blog activity may ebb and flow in frequency. Please do not be offended by this.

4 I will not be tolerant of hate, including but not limited to racism, sexism, or any anti-lgbtq+ ideology. Interactions with my muse typical to bg3 canon attitudes towards drow is acceptable to me, however, keep in mind that an insistence on such negative attitudes will likely dissuade Myrna from having an interest in maintaining relations or conversations with your character. I maintain the right to disengage or deny perusing writing if hatred towards her as a drow is your intended writing focus.