magelearncd

[magelearncd]

“ he is gentle, as all real men are gentle; without tenderness, a man is uninteresting “

[magelearncd]

mmmm lifespan angst my beloved.

[magelearncd]

i don’t like “til death do us part” cause why would death part us??? u are mine in death and every life after this

[magelearncd]

An alliance. That was as troubling as it was tempting. He didn't mind being neutral in conflicts, quite preferred it if he was being honest, but he didn't like the idea of being indebted to the unseelie.

However...he wasn't going to get involved in the seelie/unseelie conflict anyways. Why not make it official? He stands, his golden and silver robes flash; sunlight and moonlight sewn together.

He's in his autumnal aspect, with only the barest hint of winter in his face; a creeping frost ghosting across his cheekbones. His hair tumbles to his waist, intricately braided and as red as a wildfire.

"I would be happy to discuss this alliance further over dinner," he says, descending the steps from his throne to meet the Inspector face to face, and held out a hand for him to shake. "You may call me Angondren, I am not one for formality within my own home."

Not his real name, but he'd been using it for so long it might as well be.

the inspector stands from the deep bow, sweeping his long white gown together once more. the black and white patterns on the clothing were striking in the light, casting strange illusory shapes to his form that flashed brighter with the hints of electric blue between.

the gift is handed aside to a servant that steps nearby before he walks closer, gathering the skirts of the gown before he stood at the food of the throne and gave a pleased look of his insectoid face.

" you may call me the inspector, sire, eyes of she who rules the unseelie. i see and know all that happens in the land of faerie. "

another bow is swept out before he folds a pair of his four hands, the other pair still holding his skirts.

" she wishes to extend a peace to you and yours in the ancient conflict between seelie and unseelie. you need not align yourself with our shadows, but we wish for your neutrality. "

[magelearncd]

man if Nowhere had just had anyone to talk to she would've made better choices.

[magelearncd]

Mmm thinking about Calamity/Age of Arcanum verses for Nowhere and Angondren.

Nowhere's pretty easy; she went a similar way of Vespin. She was chosen by the devils and maybe Asmodeus to help them due to her proclivity for divination. It's easy to plan when you know what's coming. She then, decided to engratiate herself to the betrayers (maybe at first she wanted to be a double agent and warn people, but good intentions hardly matter. She quickly became enamored with the power she was given and wanted more.) She's regretting that choice now and if she ever gets back to the material plane she'll be a staunch ally of those who fight against the abyssal planes.

Angondren's a bit more difficult: do I want him to be an aristocrat on one of the flying cities? A emmisary sent by the feywild to strengthen diplomatic relations? Maybe he refused to go back the same way Loquatious refused to. He had started a family in the material plane after all. Maybe he tried to help Larryn travel through planes, he wants to be able to show his family his home. I don't know. Thoughts?

[magelearncd]

@saintsdawn says:“ rumors, here and there .” ( i'm very late but also, for angondren )

Angondren loved parties, when he was not the one hosting them. When he could glide through the doors in one of his most elaborate outfits and not have to worry about the food, the servants, the guests and their potential boredom. When he did not have to constantly scan for threats or interlopers.

Alas. But his ballroom had been done up to the nines, faerie light danced around the arching rafters and the sculpted vines on the walls dripped with gold. Angondren stood in the middle of it all, a gentle smile plastered on his face, and pretended to enjoy himself.

His newest guard, a woman named Flo sidled up to him and he tilted his head in her direction. "Rumors? Do tell, I love gossip as much as the next person."

Just not when it was at his gathering. Just not when it was about him.

[magelearncd]

Sigrid shrugged, a lumbering one-shouldered thing. "I can turn invisible, and you can disguise yourself probably....most people I've met with magic can. We'll be fine."

Sigrid was good at a very select group of things, battle was one of them. She didn't particularly like her odds if the border was well guarded, but it would be what it would be and she couldn't do much to change it. Besides her generals had given her a map with all sorts of secret routes on it, routes they had assured her the enemy did not know.

She believed them. Why would they lie? They'd be fine. And then-

Well, then would come later. She'd find out when she got there. True resurrection spells were difficult to come by, but she'd been promised one if she did her job well. And why would they lie to her?

She smiled, wide and gaptoothed. "You'll be fine Mr. Loras, I'll keep you safe."

it was a bumpy road off the beaten path. even bumpier in the cart pulled by a single donkey. loras stuck out his leg to sweep aside a whole head of cabbage rolling to his side of the cart.

– something is broken .

loras glanced at the towering firbolg walking next to the moving cart, wondering how much of her sweet and innocent demeanor was true, and how much of it was just an act, that under those matted furs actually hid some more sinister motives.

“ they are going to catch up to you. ” loras announced casually, sinking back into the satchel doubled as a cushion. it contained only a few sets of clothing and some provision he managed to grab before being whisked away from the throes of battle. “ magic might help us get out of a tough spot here or there. but at the end of the day, one party has more foot soldiers to spare. and you won't clear the border for a while. ”

his gaze on sigrid was now of naked inquiry.

“ i hope you have a few tricks up your sleeve. ”

[magelearncd]

All of my muses on this blog would be delighted to go to a masquerade.

[magelearncd]

Mmmm thinking about how Angondren isn't even his true name. Its a name he chose upon becoming regent. His true name is hidden for his own protection dealing with fae.

[magelearncd]

@tomepact says: " good sire, i bring a gift from the queen of that which is dark and secret. "

the inspector bows low, in his almost-eladrin shape in the polite gesture of not intruding upon the space in his true shape. there is a basket tucked under his arm, full of goodies: rare flowers that bloomed only in the night, a twisted bough of black leaves that shine in bright colors of pink and blue when disturbed, a bangle of carved crystal from the castle of the queen.

" may i stay and spend a meal with you, lord? "

Angondren leans forward in his throne, almost imperceptibly, so as to not show too much interest. If he showed too much interest he may be caught like a fish on a hook and reeled somewhere he did not want to go. So his only sign of intrigue was a slight raise of a brow and the glimmer in his remaining good eye. (an illusion could only copy so much after all)

"It is rare thing indeed to recieve a gift from the Queen of Air and Darkness," he remarks idly. "I wonder as to the occasion."

Perhaps that's a bit to forward, he waves a hand lazily through the air as if dismissing the question. "But of course, I would be honored to share a meal with you, preperations will begin at once."

He nods to a servant at the door and they turn, presumably heading towards the kitchen. "What would you like me to call you, gift-bringer?"

[magelearncd]

Knowing that Angondren only had two-three centuries with his wife when he was expecting twice that.

[magelearncd]

                                           i’ve gripped rage,                                    i’ve wielded it like a weapon.

[magelearncd]

@winterfollows says: “ is there a skill set that you would prefer I possess ? “ + Sigrid

"Why no sir," Sigrid shakes her head, peering down at the man who had become her travelling companion. Her hair has grown long and shaggy since she'd awoken and she has to toss her head to keep it out of her eyes.

She paused, tapping a finger to her lips. "Well, maybe if you were a little better at swordplay, but that's only because I don't want to see you hurt." An idea occured to her. "I could teach you if you'd like."

[magelearncd]

@tcaleaf says: “ you are more useful to your people alive. “ / for mr fae king ...

He knows his own importance. It's a weight on his head, curling his shoulders, bending his back. He knows that people rely on him, that entire economies rely on him.

(But he also knows that Bronwyn is shaping up to be a wonderful leader and that he is so, so tired and that sometimes he just wants to be done with it all. Sometimes he'd like to be gone.)

"I," he stutters, runs a hand over one side of his face -mindful of disrupting the illusion. "I know, Mollymauk."

And then because he knows that it was said out of concern and meant to be something of a compliment; "Thank you."

[magelearncd]

@weavermasked says: “ war is a game of numbers, not magic.” ( for the firbolg! )

"Oh," Sigrid said. Her voice is surprisingly soft, coming from so large a creature. "I don't think war is a game at all."

She supposed, in a way, war could be like a game. There were teams, and objectives, and everyone wanted their own side to win. But in war, when your friends fell around you they didn't get back up. Not unless you had a cleric to spare, and in the heat of a battle there wasn't often enough time to drag one over.

Not that Sigrid hadn't tried. She had. Everytime. Or at least....she thought she had. Her memories from before aren't the most reliable. A flash of steel here, a cry of anguish there, the faintest memory of sunlight warming her fur. But she thought she remembered pressing a gem into someone's hand and protecting them so they had time to use it.

Who had it been?

"I think war's something that happens when something is broken and no one knows how to fix it." Some thing, some place, some people. "But magic never hurts. You can do a lot of good with magic."

[magelearncd]

Angondren is not pleased with any of this. He does not like that he was reduced to practically begging for aid, offering himself as a prize when nothing else worked. And he does not like that that offer was taken up on, and a wife was thrust upon him; a tiefling who though very solidly an adult, is merely a fraction of Angondren's own age. It feels wrong, it makes his skin crawl. And worse, it makes him very anxious about who his new allies are, the fact that they'd feel comfortable marrying their child off to someone older than their grandparents doesn't bode well. But desperation is a fickle thing andthere is no use dwelling on things he cannot change.

The dragon is in the process of being dealt with and the ceremony was very nice, though not nearly as personal as the one he'd shared with Brynwild almost three centuries before hand.

He misses her terribly. He's sure she'd tease him about this whole situation, she'd have already made fast friends with Mollymauk while he barely knows anything about the man except for how well they dance.

That reason, and that reason alone brings Angondren to Mollymauk's chambers. It's only years of etiquette training that stops him from flinching when the tiefling bows, tension clear in the set of his shoulders.

"Please," he waves a hand as if to dismiss the tension between them. "No titles, you may call me Angondren, at least in private." He sweeps fully into the room, a blur of heavy silk robes and embroidered hems and does not ask before sitting in one of the armchairs across from his new wife.

"I want to get to know you, if you are to become part of my family I would like us to at least be friendly, if not friends."

There's very little about this that he likes. As he sits in an unfamiliar castle, wearing a dress hand-crafted for him not but a few days ago, he thinks long and hard about the options in front of him. Last night's wedding had been a fine celebration, full of merriment from at least one party. ( He suspects his own parents were simply relieved to have found an excuse to hand him off, never to think of him again. ) The night had, fortunately, been uneventful; once the couple had retired, he'd been escorted to his quarters. But that could change at any moment. Truly, he knew nothing of his new husband -- which is what upsets him the most.

The sound of the door opening has Mollymauk standing, startled out of their thoughts. They clasp their hands in front of them, and bow their head at the sight of their husband. " Don’t worry, " says @magelearncd , as Angondren, who raises a hand. " I would never touch you. ”

With a soft, relieved sigh, the tiefling's shoulders relax. His gaze flits back to the fae king, uncertainty returning with a furrow of his brows. " That is well appreciated, my lord. Is there anything else you wanted from me? "