#but the underdark might be a way to still get a look at cultures like drow who often get sidelined or turned to villains in these settings

[some-thrilling-heroics]

i'm workshopping halsin's past in terms of relationships

considering that halsin was very likely bullied as a kid (thaniel was his only friend) and how he is a prime target for an abusive relationship (you can say all kinds of nasty things to him and he will just look sad but not break up with you or draw any kind of line that next time it's over or anything - and sure player chara lifts the curse so it's all magic on a pedestal and heart eyes but still…)

the way i see it time-wise: he's 350 now and i don't see him having any relationships like that since the shadow curse / taking over as archdruid, so that takes us down to him at 250 - his slavery 3 years were in his youth so im gonna assume that's closer to him either below or just around 100 so let's say ages 20-80/100 he might have had some relationships, then underdark happened at some point and then ages 80/100-250 again he is out and might be in relationships

so with that in mind, i'm trying to picture his past relationships and how they ended, what could be some common threats in most / many of them and were the breakups amicable or not

maybe besides duty and power imbalance and lack of peers / actual friends the reason he didn't have any relationship in the time as archdruid would also be that he was at that point aware enough that when he gets involved with sb he is easily manipulated by them, even if a relationship starts all sunshine and roses it always devolves when the other party(-ies) pick up on that and - not even to keep himself safe from that but to keep the grove safe from the potential dangers of that - he stayed single? that would also fit with him expecting the ship with tav to end even if it's going well and they are living in the commune, he's still waiting for that other shoe to drop, like all the other times

would his past lovers have issue with his relationship with his bear shape? they'd know he's a druid but he's not exactly standard in his approach, whether you go with werebear approach or not. would that have been a point of conflict in some relationships? would he have ended things if it was?

would some of them - either intentionally or through ignorance - hear him say openly he's polyamorous and take it as an open invitation to cheat on him or to involve third parties without properly discussing it with halsin and just assuming he'd be up for anything and with anybody? (i get wood elves are culturally polyamorous so this point might not necessarily apply to them, but clearly halsin doesn't limit himself to just dating wood elves)

on the flipside i don't want him to only have bad relationships, or only ones that in time turn abusive, but what would happen there? imo the simplest would be 'we're just having fun and want different things long term from life' or duty calls and the like that would necessitate a breakup. i would hate the idea that tav is the only / first good happy steady relationship in his long life and thus somehow special - outside of the special aspect being around the curse breaking bc can't argue with that.

thoughts? anybody?

[lunastrophe]

Hi! I've read a lot of your drow lore posts, and I absolutely love all the information you've provided (and the way you organize them makes my brain happy.) I know you've talked about being transgender in Drow society, but do you have any ideas on how being nonbinary would work? Acceptance, role in society, ect.? I was just curious because I'm nonbinary but I'm also getting really into Drow culture haha

Hello - thank you for visiting my drow corner and for an interesting question! 😊

🕷️ In a typical Lolth-worshipping society, I am afraid that coming out as nonbinary - or expressing any kind of gender nonconformity, really - would be dangerous for a drow character.

Structures of Underdark Lolth-sworn drow societies are pretty rigid and focused around female-male dichotomy - which is firmly rooted in teachings of the church of Lolth. Drow whose gender identity does not fit this dichotomy are typically seen as a danger to the fundamental values of Lolth-sworn society.

A nonbinary drow would probably have two basic options: to live in the closet, with their assigned gender determining how they are perceived and referred to - or to leave. Seeking open acceptance would not end well, I suppose, especially for a drow who is closely connected to some noble house or to Lolth's clergy.

For a non-noble drow, things would probably be easier. Without a row of house priestesses, siblings and matron mother watching their every move, they would probably be able to act more freely. They might find, for example, a gender neutral profession - maybe one that requires them to travel a lot and spend time among other, more accepting people.

Still, trying to be openly nonbinary Lolth-sworn drow among other Lolth-sworn drow would be very dangerous.

🕷️ In drow societies where the main deity is Vhaeraun, I suppose that a nonbinary drow would have next to zero problems with being accepted.

Some followers of Vhaeraun heavily promote patriarchy and dominance of drow males, though, especially in power structures.

So, it is probably easy to imagine that, for example, a nonbinary drow with a very feminine look and style of dress might confuse some Vhaeraunans - at least initially. Some of them (mainly males) might be quick to label such an individual 'female' and stubbornly insist to treat them like one, or approach them with a measure of distrust.

In such case, becoming a cleric of Vhaeraun might also be a problem. Church of Vhaeraun sometimes advertises itself as "egalitarian", but... yeah, in practice, distribution of power is typically heavily tilted there in favour of male drow.

Still, I cannot really imagine Vhaeraunans (in general) persecuting a nonbinary drow for the sole fact of being nonbinary. Vhaeraunan societies are fairly accepting, as long as you are not working against them and you do not worship Lolth.

🕷️A drow society where Ghaunadaur is worshipped - I suppose that a nonbinary drow who is chaotic, evil and maybe also more or less insane, would feel good there. Good characters, not so much.

Ghaunadaur is not a nice deity (chaos, sacrifices, madness, crawling creatures, alien intelligence - Lovecraftian vibes, sort of), but has an affinity for everything that is primordial, not defined and not clearly shaped.

I think that nonbinary, chaotic evil drow, especially outcasts, might be attracted to his cult - they might perceive Ghaunadaur as a fitting alternative to Lolth or other established Underdark deities popular among drow. To Ghaunadaur, male-female dichotomy is totally irrelevant.

🕷️Eilistraeans would have no problem with nonbinary drow - they would be treated just like any other person. Followers of Eilistraee might be also ready to offer help to a drow who became an outcast because of coming out as nonbinary.

A good (in terms of alignment) nonbinary drow might be attracted to the cult of Eilistraee, especially since for Eilistraeans, male-female dichotomy is not overly important - they generally promote equality and harmony, and they are always glad to welcome new followers, no matter their gender identity.

Whew, I hope I managed to include all relevant aspects 🙂Hope you will find this post useful!

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Thinking About Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Post Game

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: Some stuff with them in the underdark, some stuff with them exploring more of Evie's family. Honestly just random ideas I've been sitting on for a while. Please let me know if any of these sound like something you'd like to see expanded on in a fic. I've got so much, I have no idea what to focus on. As always thanks to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble.

So basics first, Evie convinces Astarion to let the 7,000 spawn live and retreat into the underdark meaning that once the Absolute is defeated, they have a lot of work to do

I am sticking with the idea that Evie actually is Gur, but due to circumstances didn't grow up among her tribe, so not only is this her helping the spawn, but a chance for her to reconnect with that part of herself

Astarion helps the spawn adjust to their new lives while also teaching the Gur how best to help their children, understanding and empathizing with their cravings. 

Evie meanwhile gets the opportunity to learn more about her culture acting as a kind of middle man when Astarion gets a little too heated with some of the leaders

Astarion working with his "siblings" as well

It's a hard adjustment for them from competing for survival to realizing they won. Obviously old grudges and resentments remain, but working through them to be more than what Cazador made them.

Being the oldest of all the spawn, some of them start to step up as leaders in their own right, or while others decide to embrace their freedom and leave the Underdark. 

I want to say that Astarion and Evie stay for at least a year, if not a little longer; enough to get things stable, but neither of them want to stay there forever

Astarion has a lot of the world he wants to see, and he knows it's selfish to keep Evie in the dark forever

Evie too, having now learned more about the Gur, realizes that she might still have family out there and wants to find them

Astarion brings up on occasion about how he doubts they'd be keen on her walking into their camp with a vampire, but that's a bridge they'll cross when they get there

They spend the in between time adventuring

Neither of them really considered themselves heroes before The Absolute, but they find they're actually rather good at it

Evie's more altruistic tendencies have rubbed off on Astarion a bit, but not enough for him to shy away about asking for that promised reward

Astarion also takes this time to experiment with hobbies

He genuinely enjoys embroidery and sewing. It relaxes him and gives him something tangible he created by the end of it.

Evie would try to teach him how to play an instrument and while he’s not completely tone deaf, he insists he’s a better audience member

Astarion in turn starts to teach Evie how to properly read. Although that doesn’t stop him from reading out loud to them when they ask.

He admittedly isn't the most patient of teach at times, but they're both learning

Eventually though, they do find Evie's family

The find themselves battling a vampire lord and get way in over their head resulting in Evie being hit bad

Astarion is able to escape with her, but it’s obvious she needs help fast so he stops for help with the first group he finds, a tribe of Gur who currently have their caravan based on the other side of a river which keeps monsters like him from crossing. 

Still he knows there is nobody else and so yells across the river for help

The Gur come out and tell him to cross, he says that he can’t and that alerts the Gur as to what he is

Astarion realizes he's in trouble, but the love of his life bleeding in his arms takes precedent

He lays her down, holding his hands up and begging them to help her. The Gur recognize her as one of their own, but don’t trust Astarion. So as they start to cross one of them shoots him nearly in the heart sending him down as the other rush to grab Evie.

One of the younger ones looks like he’s going to finish it when another speaks up saying they remember speaking with another caravan about a pale elf spawn traveling with one of their own. Best hold off until they get some answers. 

So they get Evie to their healers and tie Astarion up with silver chains in one of the caravans and out of the sun. Astarion is cooperative enough, save for his tongue which the Gur can do nothing about except tell him to shut up.

Most of his comments boil down to asking about Evie and calling them some variety of the word idiot. 

All of this to say I now have an image in my head of Astarion being tied to a post when Evie comes in. Whatever anger or annoyance he had at the current situation slides off his face when he sees her, breathing out her name in sheer relief. 

Evie then quickly closes the distance ignoring any warning from the guards and checking him for injuries. He’s still hurt from the arrow to the chest and obviously the silver which he’ll worry about in a second as he uses his limited movement to kiss her. 

She starts to untie him which the guards protest against, but Astarion dryly counters “And where will I go this time of day?” Evie then starts to heal him and that’s when the leaders show up and some answers can be given.

Not the best first impression to say the very least, but answers are given and the leaders quickly realize her mother and father were originally from their tribe

I got into it a bit more here, but basically her father was turned away and her mother followed leading Evie to be raised away from her people

She holds her breath expecting them to turn her away, but is shocked when they embrace her too; they won't hold her responsible for what her father did

And while many of them are wary of Astarion, the Gur in Baldur's Gate have let it know that he is their ally

As soon as Evie realizes that not only did she have a family out there, but they would have accepted her back completely shatters her sense of self

All those what ifs start flooding her brain. Resentment towards her father rears it’s ugly head until all she can do is scream at everything she might have had. She could have been happy and safe and loved, and instead…this. 

It makes her want to hold on tighter, diving head first to learn everything she can to the point where maybe Astarion gets a little nervous. Yes, he has his prejudices against the Gur and he’s been working on it, but they also don’t know these people and he doesn’t want to see Evie get hurt. 

Astarion actually starts to back away for a bit. He knows this is important to her and she needs time to figure it out. So having him around, somebody who this new family is rightfully suspicious of might not be the best. He wants to stay with her. He wants to be her family, but it’s selfish of him to assume he can be her only family. From what he’s been able to glean her mother made that same mistake. Perhaps he should go back to the underdark for a time.

Evie feels him pulling away and confronting him about it. 

I imagine Astarion would clam up at first; denying it before eventually blurting out everything he’s been feeling in some not so polite terms. He’s a monster in their eyes not matter how much Evie tries to claim otherwise. Some might see him as a novelty, but they can’t ever trust him. He doesn’t blame them. Smart really. 

Evie then suggests they both leave. And he’s tempted.

He wants to just go, just the two of them on the road going wherever they like whenever they’d like. She’s the only family he really wants, but he stops himself. Hell he’s angry at himself for stopping. He’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. In what world would she ever come back to him?

But he says no. He tells her she needs to stay. He knows she’s not ready to go. (She may never be ready to go, but that’s a fear he keeps to himself.) He loves her. He loves her in ways he didn’t think he could love another person, but he can’t stay. He’ll be waiting for her when she’s ready.

Evie meanwhile is mentally scrambling. She wants to stay. She still has so many questions. This is the first time she’s felt like she’s belonged in so long. But she can’t lose Astarion. She just can’t. The idea of him leaving only makes her think of every back turned her way, of being a burden, too much, not enough, never enough. But Astarion loves her. She knows he does. So, she has to trust that he means it.

It's their first real test, being away from each other

Evie takes the opportunity to explore aspects of herself she kept buried for a long time

Astarion meanwhile doesn't go straight back to the Underdark

He takes the time to go to Waterdeep to see Gale. He visits Shadowheart and Wyll and Karlach and is surprised every time that they’re happy to see him. He still misses Evie. Gods he misses her every day, but he comes to recognize that there are other people in his life. He’s not alone in the world without her.

Evie would reach out to him first, sending a letter that admittedly takes some time to find him as he’s bounced around the sword coast

Eventually Astarion does gets it and writes back in a heart beat to see her again. Or maybe even gets somebody to cast sending so he can contact her faster.

He only thinks after that maybe he was a little too eager. This is just a chance to see each other again. For all her knows she’s going to tell him she’s going to stay with her people. But he couldn’t seem to help it.

There’s a difference between missing somebody you know you’ll never see again and missing someone you might. Just that little bit of hope makes it so much more painful. He’s not used to it.

So they meet. Maybe in Waterdeep or just some place else between where they are.

Astarion deliberately forced himself to wait at least an hour after sunset. Yes, he could go earlier, but, again, he doesn’t want to appear too eager. He still has his pride, but any bravado disappears as soon as he sees her.

She’s already sitting at a table, an empty plate and drink in her hand. Clearly she had been waiting for some time. And Gods she’s even more beautiful than he remembered.

She’s dressed a little differently, more clearly Gur from the fabric to the way her hair is done, allowing herself to stand out in a way she didn’t before.

She then meets his eye and he all but sighs in relief; she missed him too.

Maybe there was a time they both would have played this a little closer to the chest. They would have politely sat down and danced around the question of who wanted to stay and who wanted to go, reflectively waiting for each to deliver the killing blow. There’s no such hesitation now.

Evie is up and across the tavern in the next second, all but jumping into his waiting arms. He has to tease her just a little, even when he holds her to him like she’s the only thing real in the world. “Miss me darling?”

She only hugs him tighter, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Always my love.”

They do eventually talk. They sit down and tell all of what they’ve done. They talk about where they’ll go next and the list of people they need to see along the way. But there is never a question of whether or not they will stay together.

One separation is more than enough for a lifetime

[its-sixxers]

Yaaay love to read your comments about BG3! And I'm so looking forward to any potential art you'll do for that game 😊 Can you tell us a bit about your Tav? How are they like and how do they deal with the mess they got themselves into? 😅

there will be art the moment i can get a bit of time to do it, my hands are ITCHING but the holidays b nuts qq

so here's the tav i've happily settled on and who feels correct:

This is all very much a WIP because I usually prefer to flesh out OCs after finishing the piece of media they belong to, so everything below is subject to change lol. Just hit the Underdark part of the game with her.

Not quite sure where the drow pantheon sits in BG3 lore but while she's got the red eyes she's a devotee of Eilistraee and still cares deeply for her people (if not the tyranny of Lolth) and spent her time pre-tadpole ferrying drow out of the Underdark and learned her ranger skills that way. She has two spider familiars/companions, the little guy looking like an overlarge jumping spider and the bigger one your classic dire spider fare.

I like playing her Neutral alignment wise, but with Wyll's influence is edging into Chaotic Good territory. She's very much a Good is Not Nice kind of lady - she doesn't have great people skills, is blunt and aggressive but will be the type to save the tiefling kid from Kagha and then tell the kid off for getting herself into trouble.

She initially gets on best with Lae'zel (appreciation for her drive and efficiency) and Karlach (who doesn't get on with Karlach, really) and as a rule of thumb will gravitate toward the outsider kind of archetype. Wyll's drive to do the right thing even if it's the hard thing piques her interest, and the way he deals with Mizora's curse on him is what REALLY draws her to him. As someone who is often judged by appearance she greatly respects his attitude toward the horns, and also deeply relates to his moments of melancholy regarding them. Astarion's the one who can consistently make her laugh in spite of her caution around him, Shadowheart she both pities and admires for her devotion to Shar despite her (in Tav's eyes) youth, and Gale is always in her adventuring party both for his knowledge/expertise and because he's a very needed chill balance for the group. So far, anyways. Weird that the guy who might explode is the most stable emotionally.

I also like to headcanon that she prefers to do the pursuing and while Lae'zel's approach with uh, physical intentions is appreciated it hits a little too close to Llolthsworn culture for Tav's sake. She also isn't much bothered by so many of the team having chronic secret-keeping since she also doesn't really talk about her time embroiled in Lloth worship.

Regarding the Tadpole situation, she's extremely averse to being under control of anything and refuses to use its control on others, valuing freedom to a high degree. She wants it out very badly, but her time in Menzoberranzan has taught her that there is always a bigger scheme at play and to act with surgical precision rather than with an axe in such matters.

Her dream party is Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale (but in actual gameplay I change it up pretty often as mechanics require / depending on my mood lol)

[creativerogues]

An Amateur DM’s Worldbuilding Thoughts...

I should write my own sea shanties for my nautical campaigns.

There should be a stage in the tavern in case the Bard wants to perform.

I wish I knew more about food so I could write better tavern menus.

A lot of NPCs are probably farmers; potato farmers, fruit farmers, cattle farmers etc.

I should include more diverse NPCs.

Natural disasters can be the basis for an adventure, what’s causing the tsunamis on the coast, what’s making volcanoes erupt and earthquakes happen.

I should use weather and environments to evoke emotions and imagery way more.

Asian hair tends to be thick and straight, whereas European hair tends to be thinner and can be wavy, and African hair tends to be coarse and have very tight curls.

Historical accounts suggest that some women tried to bleach their hair with lemon juice or darken it with indigo or even mud to fit the current trends, so maybe the players meet a lighter haired woman who smells faintly of lemons!

A wizard’s spellbook probably has stains on its parchment from various foods and drinks.

A mute NPC would be a fun way to test myself and see if I can express concepts and ideas to the Party without just saying them.

“Common” often refers to English, but what about different dialects?

I should come up with more fantasy slang and insults.

Some regional fantasy greetings would be a cool way to immerse the Players in the world, such as “Be Pleasured.” meaning “Hello!”.

I should expand on the cosmology of the material plane, what constellations are in the sky, can the Players see other planets if they look up, how many moons does the world have?

The Party, when they're famous enough, probably have random people wanting to speak with them or get their autograph, which would be a great way to break up any monotony caused by shopping montages or downtime activities.

In a busy urban city, there’s probably a lot of street food and street performers.

In a big city, there’s probably a lot of horses and carriages passing through, so the Party probably aren’t walking in the middle of the road unless the road is too small for that sort of thing.

A country is probably broken up into provinces, counties or territories, and cities are probably broken up into districts.

What’s the longest road or trading route in the world? And why is it so popular?

What’s the longest river or mountain range in the world? Where’s the highest mountain located?

Where are the fault lines in the world? Would there be lot’s of mountains or lots of earthquakes there?

Which countries have the best archers or soldiers or cavalry? Which country has the best naval fleet?

If giant animals and dire beasts (like dire wolfs and giant owls) exist, would people try to use them like cavalry, with people flying giant owls carrying power-kegs so they could drop bombs on the bad guys, or people riding armoured dire beasts into battle...

Certain regions probably have certain cuisines, which would be reflected in their tavern menus.

Different cultures have different views on music, as well as different superstitions and different folk tales.

Different cultures have different architecture, from wood or stone buildings to tents to maybe no “Buildings” at all!

Before a person becomes an adventurer, they were most likely a farmer or labourer of some kind.

Wizards and bards would be great translators.

What does the flag or banner of each country look like, or do certain parts of the country have their own heraldry or coat of arms?

People from the Underdark probably eat a lot of fungus, plants and bugs, so most probably don’t even know what “Meat” is!

There’s lot of downtime entertainment that could engage the Party, from underground fight clubs to libraries to arenas and theatres.

Each district or province of an area probably has their own landmarks, from rivers and castles to statues and other more fantastical landmarks like famous magic shops.

Festivals, Fairs and Concerts are always a fun way to introduce players to a new culture or city. Perhaps it's a noble ball that's invite only, or perhaps the festival doesn't even take place on this plane of existence!

Most birds don’t react to super spicy food (like chilli peppers) like humans do, so most bird-like D&D Races (like Kenku and Aarakocra) might absolutely love (or hate) spicy food!

Sunlight entering water can travel about 3,000 feet under the right conditions, but there is rarely any significant light beyond about 600 feet, meaning you could potentially have underwater combat take place in complete and utter darkness!

Does my world have fishing laws? Like do they care about fish population enough to have laws to help prevent over-fishing?

A party member hears footsteps and whispers from outside their room, only to open their door and find another patron of the inn trying to sneak to their room without waking anyone up.

Fantasy street food can be pretty much anything! From chocolate to meat on skewers to noodles or even sausages stuffed and grilled quickly right in front of the Players as they walk through the streets!

It’s definitely a strength check to try and break out of bonds, but it’s a dexterity check to wiggle yourself out of handcuffs or bindings, remember that!

 Hobo Symbols (an actual thing created by wandering adventurers and nomads) could make for a great way to communicate places of interest to a Party of New Adventurers.

I should use Electrum Pieces more often.

Characters with more siblings means more fun and relevant NPCs you could put in interesting positions. For example, imagine the brother or sister of a Party Member working for the opposing side during a war....

The BBEG could have multiple enemies or allies in high and low places, meaning potential new allies and enemies for the Party to make.

If you want your Players to think you’re a galaxy brain DM, drip feed info little by little into parts of the campaign from the very start, both in and out of combat, that way when the big reveal comes along, the Players think you’re a big-brained master of plot and storytelling!

Some taverns could have darkened or tinted windows, since that'll make every drunkard inside think it's still early in the night.

If a band of bards is playing in a tavern, the Party can probably hear the noises from outside.

More taverns should have a dance-floor!

There should be more families in taverns and inns, since most taverns and inns are similar to hotels or restaurants.

The walls and ceilings of a tavern could be filled with all sorts of things: Light fixtures, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, wooden beams supporting the walls. Or maybe something more artistic: Paintings, mounted animal heads, tapestries, curtains hanging above windows and doors, just to give a few examples...

[shadowkat678]

Yo! Send me asks about my d&d characters. As many questions as you want the more the better.

I'm bored. I promise I'll answer this time we're getting into hyper fixation territory.

My characters so far you can ask about!

1. Jin

This is my swashbuckler changeling who likes to pretend they don't have crippling issues that need therapy. Them (or at least the form that Jin grew up embodying) and their sister, Elza, are also my profile pic! Speaking of, Jin recently got back their sister, who was very dead which Jin had a lot of self blame for, after making a stream of mistakes to get there. Also, their brother hates them. The three are triplets technically but Jin was switched at birth, in more traditional changeling fashion. Feeling So Much™️. Non-binary disaster.

Jin really just wants a break but despite apparently gaining the favor of a luck goddess, who knows when they'll actually get a real break. Because oh look, on top of personal issues, we also gotta deal with cults! Fun! We did get to hijack an airship in the process of rescuing their sister though, so that was fun. Also the Wish spell used to bring her back to life MAY have affected the timeline in very important ways???????? Oops?

Jin may have managed to get my favorite forgotten realms npc as his enemy. Jarlaxle, secret ruler of Luskan and my top favorite pirate drow, is probably going to be after their ass. Yep. It was HIS airship! :D

Feel like karma is getting me back for all the shit I've pulled dming with Jarlaxle against my players. Welp.

2. Sabel

My drow primordial warlock. Her home was overtaken by an evil lich hellbent on ruling the Underdark. Her dad disappeared a few years before and possibly is involved in a resistance movement? She was also tricked into giving up information critical in said conquest by her uncle, so she ran off into the Underdark, almost died, and was saved by her patron who she still has no clue what their deal is. Now also part of resistance and is roaming the surface looking for allies and experiencing extreme culture shock every ten minutes or so. Also very gay but currently still too preoccupied with PTSD and the lich taking over her home for relationships.

Anxious. About everything. All the time. Her familiar Mojo doubles as a therapy animal who rides on her shoulder as a fire salamander. She has gone into hyperventilation twice so far so I mean not doing as bad as she could be. Number might get higher. Considering those times involved seeing a friend die and the city the party had been sheltering getting OVERRUN BY DEMONS...I mean, hyperventilating is a fair reaction to that I think.

She is also the group mom friend and is the only character I've ever played who's actually trustful of authority, and as someone who absolutely not, the trouble she gets into due to this trait and being a naive neutral good goody two shoes is MADDENING.

3. Dalora

A Dhampire monk with a dip in rogue for cunning action. She was dealing in some shady side gigs while apprenticed to her guild. This ended in a not so fun neck biting encounter that she's still surprised to have woken up from, abit with...a significantly lower heart rate and no longer needing to breathe.

She's now taken up mercenary work, along with modeling on the side for her girlfriend Melody, a tiefling bard who is tired of Dolora racing in with blood all over her shirts. Think Josephine from Dragon Age Inquisition and you have Melody's entire aesthetic.

She wants to move past her early life choices, but the bastard who bit her MAY have found out she lived and MAY not be happy about it. Not currently playing her, but I really, really, really want to if nothing else than for the antics with her girlfriend, who of course gives Dolora all her clothing. I need art and a full romcom for these two CN lesbian disasters stat.

4. Lorana

Next, the tiefling old ones warlock who is discovering why her dad was so deadset on her staying home and safe. AKA, the world be shitty sometimes, especially when you're in a minority group people often don't always like. Sadly, her dad has disappeared, and she's stuck working everything out with just her, the party, and an annoying Sprite named Callum who won't stop being sarcastically critical about anything and everything.

She got her powers when she found a Magician terrot card baring her likeness, and now EVERYTHING is WEIRD. Also no matter how often she throws the card away, it keeps showing up back in her bag. She also has super unsettling dreams sometimes.

This was my first serious character and sadly the games I put her in all ended super soon so I never got very far with her. I still love her concept and want to use her again one day, but at this point I'm worried she's just cursed.

5. Riana, prefers to be called Rini.

Last but not least, my punk rock aasimar trickster cleric. Her mom and uncle kept fighting over custody to use her aasimar rep for their own ends, so she scammed them both and ran off. Sadly, both are very influential people, and are not happy with getting tricked by a rebellious teenager. It's cool though because she found some friends that are letting her hang with them low key, and occasionally they go get in bar brawls, which are great bonding experiences. She just got her first piercing and her spiritual weapon is a barbed wire wrapped baseball bat.

I also haven't played her yet but when I do it'll probably be on the cusp of her mom finding where she's been and she needs to GTFO pronto. Very bubbly and enthusiastic, but also no I'm not telling you about my background so stop asking and let's just wreck something. Also she has a guardian angel that's only minimally going along with the antics but also does agree with getting out of the toxic environment. He's just not sure if he approves too much more of her new activities. She thinks he needs to get the stick out his ass.

Very split on the topic of being religious, despite being a cleric, and kinda just wants to have a good time and not go back to being used in her family.

.

.

.

And those are my current five d&d characters, sadly only two in current use. Though I think about all of them constantly.

[the-apocryphal-one]

Next of Kin

Summary: A special kind of pain squeezes her heart. The soft question that emerges from her lips is only natural. “Do you have any family?”Astarion x Isaniel

Also available at AO3 and ff.net!

-

A/N: Merry Christmas to all your lovely readers!

-

She should have done this before now. She knows she should have.

But there just hadn’t been time, at first. In the earliest days after her infection, she’d been teetering on a tightwire of panic and desperation, hastily cobbling together plans to get this thing out. Even when they’d stopped to eat or make camp, the thought of writing a letter to her son had never entered her mind—much to her shame.

Then, as days passed and nothing seemed to happen, she’d grown complacent. Maybe their parasites were defective. Maybe the ceremorphosis had failed. Maybe they could walk away from this with nothing more than some trauma and psionic abilities.

Then the sickness came and slapped her in the face with the reminder that nothing about these parasites is normal, nothing can be taken for granted, and nothing is all her son will know of her fate if she’s not careful.

But how do you do it? How do you say goodbye to your only child across hundreds of miles with no body language or facial expressions?

For the past few nights, Isaniel has been trying and failing to figure that out. Each time, she has pulled out parchment, stared at it for an indeterminate amount of time, laboriously pushed out a few words, stared some more, then folded it back up and returned it to her pack.

Tonight, she vows as she sits near a large, flat rock that will substitute as a desk, she’s not getting up until this letter is done. She pulls it out of her jerkin, smooths it out, places it on the rock, and uses a few pebbles to hold the corners down.

Selakiir, it says.

If you’re reading this, I’m very likely dead or worse. We can never foresee our fates, but I have a reasonable certainty as to what my particular ‘or worse’ is. The details are included in an additional, enclosed letter. That had already been written, perversely coming easier than this one. You may ignore it if you wish. I would not hold it against you if you did.

That was as far as she’d gotten. Now, she dips the quill back in the inkpot, sucks in a breath, and pens, I hope that the person who delivers this will be able to give you a first-hand account of my fate, so they can

Soothe you? Selakiir is bafflingly, wonderfully outgoing…but he is also private in his grief. When his father died, he withdrew from adventuring, his friends, even her. He’s not the type to accept banal well-wishes, especially from strangers.

answer any questions you have.

Her quill stalls. She stares at the drying ink, trying to muster up something else to say.

When she writes letters, they always end up much like her: detached and logical. But this is supposed to be a goodbye letter. The last thing her son might have of her. It…it has to be right. She can’t leave him feeling like she saw this as some sort of duty. If there’s one thing she’s always wanted to make sure Selakiir knew, and was always afraid he didn’t, it was that she loved him.

Remember: my love for you is like the moon. There are nights when it doesn’t know how to show all its self, but it is always there.

No, that should be in the closing paragraph. It’d be more final, more poetic. A lovely note to leave things on. But she can’t make herself scratch it out. There’s this foolish, superstitious fear that Selakiir will find out and be hurt. Isaniel grimaces, struggling to wrestle small talk, emotion, something onto the paper so it’s more than this dry thing.

It’s almost funny that I ended up adventuring like you

We’ll meet again in Eilistraee’s

I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding. The present I was making is in

Don’t you dare try to avenge me. Stay far away from

Isaniel presses her head against the heel of one hand and bites down an uncharacteristic scream. The paper’s empty spaces and crossed-out lines mock her.

“If you stare at that any more intensely, it’ll burst into flames.”

“Iblith!” she curses, startling so fiercely she upends the inkpot. She’s still thinking in Undercommon, so her next few words come out in it before she catches herself and switches back to Overcommon. “Dos olist mzild taga—stop that.”

Astarion is bent double with laughter, guffawing so hard some of the others are glancing their way. There are actually tears in his eyes. “And miss out on the chance to see you jump like a wet cat? I could never.”

Gods, he can be so juvenile sometimes. Something dangerously close to affection laces that thought, banishing the bitter frustration of failure.

Ever since that day he recoiled from her hand, Astarion has haunted her thoughts more than she would like. She has sought him out more frequently, asking questions, trying to understand him, trying to sort out what she should feel. He is dark and dangerous and cruel—and yet there is something in him, raw, genuine pain that mirrors what she once knew, that she cannot turn away from.

So, Isaniel is not surprised that Astarion’s bouts of childishness have become something she can think on with almost-fondness. Empathy, revulsion, confusion, curiosity already spin together in a whirlpool; what’s one more emotion on the pile?

That doesn’t stop her from shooting him a dour look as she rights the inkpot, though. “I will remind you that I have a rapier and that someday, I’ll be so startled I’ll stab first and ask questions later.”

“Ha! Duly noted.” Astarion gingerly—because of course he’s still worrying about getting stains on his clothes—sits next to her. Unabashedly, he peers at her pathetic letter. “What are you writing?”

She lets him peek. There’s no way he knows Undercommon…and even if he does, he won’t break her cipher. “A letter to my son. In case I die or transform.”

“Your son? That is a very important letter. Who will you entrust with its delivery?”

“Whoever among us is still alive, I suppose.”

“My, don’t you have a low opinion of our abilities.”

It’s not quite that; more like she’s just not picky. But he’s clearly preparing to launch into some spiel, so she chooses to simply wait rather than argue the point.

He doesn’t make her wait long, gesturing dramatically with his hands as he speaks. “Not that you’re wrong. Without you keeping his thirst for revenge and delusions of grandeur in check, Wyll will run off and get himself killed. Lae’zel and Shadowheart will kill each other before the sun goes down. Gale—” He chuckles. “Well. Need I go on?”

Irritation nips at her. Eilistraee knows her companions’ colorful range of personalities have given Isaniel more than one headache, but she still feels protective of them. “Yes, actually—or am I supposed to believe you wouldn’t be leaping into situations fangs first?”

“Ah, but if there’s one thing you can trust me to do, it’s survive those situations. I can see that letter to your son, darling.”

She snorts at his transparency. “You just want to read it.”

He just shamelessly grins, unapologetic about being found out.

Isaniel toys with and discards the idea of chastising him. The matter is too small to make a fuss over, and his cat-like tread and nimble fingers mean he can very much lift the letter off her if he wants. Although…hm. Maybe she can twist this back around on him. She shrugs with feigned disinterest. “Well, it’s not like you could, anyway.”

Astarion inspects his nails. “Oh, I’m sure I can get a scroll of Comprehend Languages somewhere.”

“It’s not just in Undercommon. It’s encoded too.”

He’s visibly taken aback by that. It’s childish of her, but she can’t help thinking, That’s a point for me. Gods, it’s too fun to match wits with him. “You write to your son in code?”

“It was a game we played when he was little.” It had simultaneously been a way to teach him and soothe her paranoia. “We’ve kept it up since.”

In a calculated move, Astarion twists and leans in close. His voice drops, becomes husky. “You do know there’s nothing more tempting than something you can’t have, yes?” His eyes deliberately trace a path up her neck and settle on her mouth.

He’s trying to knock her off balance. Isaniel would rather walk barefoot on hot coals than let him know he has—though not, she suspects, for the reasons he intended. Let him stare at her mouth or neck, he’s a flirt and a vampire spawn. No, the feel of his breath tickling her skin, the way his hand is almost but not quite brushing hers, is more alarming. It’s too intimate. Distracting.

She hastily delivers the coup de grace before he can spot the rapid flutter of her pulse. “What better way to guarantee your delivery? Stubbornness or curiosity will make you hold onto it until you crack it. But you won’t, so you’ll have to bring it to Selakiir to find out what it says.”

A heartbeat. Two. Then Astarion laughs, throaty and deep, sits back, and shakes his head. “Well played, my dear.”

With fresh distance between them, Isaniel exhales in relief. She hastily tries to cover it up by pretending to shift in her seat, but there’s a certain twinkle in Astarion’s eyes that tells her she failed. She clears her throat, praying that her face doesn’t betray her fluster. “I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”

She expects that to be the end of it, for Astarion to fire a parting quip and wander off to tease someone else. But her surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he props his chin in his hand and studies her.

That look in his eyes…is that actual curiosity?

Like paper thrown into fire, her own is fanned. She hasn’t bothered to ask how old he is, but she can make an educated guess. The Underdark’s abusive culture forces drow to mentally mature well before their twenties; surface elves like Astarion can afford to wait until their first century or so. Of course, magistrate isn’t the type of position you typically get straight out of adolescence, so there could be anywhere from a rough fifty years to another two hundred on top of that. For some reason, she doesn’t peg him as any more than three hundred, pre-turn. Post-turn adds another two centuries.

For humans, several hundred years encompasses several generations. But for an elf… His parents and siblings could still be alive. So could his possible children. Unless he, like her, had a half-human child. They would have died in the time he spent enslaved.

Selakiir’s warm brown eyes and smiling face flash across her mind. A special kind of pain squeezes her heart. The soft question that emerges from her lips is only natural. “Do you have any family?”

A shadow briefly flickers across his face; then, like a rat fleeing for its life, it is gone. He smiles brightly and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, let’s not exhume the past. There’s nothing interesting about it.”

Isaniel furrows her brow, but before she can say anything, Astarion rises, brushes his trousers off, and struts away. As is all-too-common of late, her gaze lingers on him until he disappears inside his tent. She exhales slowly. If he departed with such alacrity, it’s probably for the best she didn’t get to push him. Eilistraee knows how well that went over last time, and she’d just been clumsily trying to comfort him.

She glances down at the letter. Inspiration strikes. Spontaneously, she pens in another sentence. If accompanying this letter is a pale, white-haired elf named Astarion, point him to the Dancing Haven.

It’s unusually risky of her. If Cazador really will stop at nothing to get Astarion back, she could be bringing a vampire lord down on her congregation. And Astarion just might be callous enough to repay them by selling them out or abandoning them. He does not deserve such risks, the old Isaniel insists.

But then, she wouldn’t be here now if an Eilistraeen hadn’t taken a risk for her over a century ago, when she hadn’t deserved it.

She adds, I don’t know if he’ll actually go there, but like me, he’s fled some sort of dark past. I hope that, in absence of my aid, he can at least find refuge.

Bantering with Astarion seems to have unlocked some wellspring of words from deep within her; the mention of her past gives her the subject. Speaking of which, you may have all my belongings, including the forge and the new house. The password to disarm the magical traps is the same as our old one—I hope you remember it? Your father was always fondly exasperated by my insistence on having them, but you loved to show them off to your friends. My memories of you two are the best in my life…

-

The next day, she hands Astarion several pages and a “thanks” that holds more meaning than he knows.

-

Drow isn’t officially a language in 5e, but it was in older editions. So even though Isaniel was technically speaking in Undercommon for a bit, I went ahead and borrowed words from their dictionary. Rough translation:

Iblith: shit

Dos olist mzild taga: You stealth (intended to be akin to sneak or skulk) more than— (“a drider” is what she would have finished with)

Also Overcommon is just Isaniel’s name for Common.

[moonloredraws]

What tyepes and how elves do you have in your homebrew d&d??! Like the worldbuilding is huge, and hope I don't bother you by asking.

I don’t mind the questions, honestly! But be ready for an INCREDIBLY long read because I love elves and I might as well go into detail with them, and most of the information and brain thoughts can be found under the read more!

Anyway, I have 3 different realms. Manala, which is my Homebrew D&D world, The “It’s an Odd Kind of Fairytale Universe” which... is my webcomic’s universe (I still haven’t named the realm OTL) and Ozarathan, which is the Elf Only Universe. 

Manala is the one I’ll focus on since you asked D&D homebrew but I’ll touch on the other two as well. Ozarathan’s elf types are a mix between the Manala and IAOKOFT elves but with SOME differences.

Now... onto my D&D elves!

Manala has 10 types of elves. Here, we have 9 pictured, and those are the actual playable races. I’ll get to the last ones once I’ve explained these ones!

Manala has 2 categories of elves. True Elves and False Elves. False Elves are Wood Elves and Sea Elves, the rest are all True Elves. The reason for this categorization is that Wood Elves came to be when Eladrin mixed with Amali (beastfolk, essentially kemonomimi) and Sea Elves came to be when Eladrin mixed with Triton. They have plenty of elven blood, but they’re removed enough that they have their own cultures and are not as afflicted by The Hunt as True Elves are.

The Hunt is something all True Elves suffer from and it’s an innate bloodthirst. Elves on Manala are incredibly unhinged, especially Eladrin and Shadar Kai, who were the first Elves to be created onto Manala, and Shadar Kai especially just tend to start eating prey while it’s still alive. The others at least have the decency to kill the thing before starting to eat it. Most elves enjoy raw meat, and if it’s still warm from the hunt that’s even better.  

That being said, High Elves (so Sun Elves, Moon Elves and Drow) try to move away from being so overcome by the Hunt that they immerse themselves into practising the arts, and most modern High Elves don’t even experience the Hunt anymore... unless they actually go out to hunt. Which they don’t, because they either raise livestock or assign certain individuals to hunt so that not everyone turns into chaotic bloodthirsty morons. Sea Elves have no remnants of The Hunt, and Wood Elves experience it in a completely different way. They don’t revel in the kill, they revel in the hunt itself and a hunting party can spend weeks away from home tracking down some kind of behemoth, running it ragged until it dies from stress. 

True Elves also have mostly matriarchal societies, and most men dress in very revealing ways. Piercings and Tattoos are common across all True Elves, and preference of Fabric depends on region and subrace, with High Elves and Eladrin enjoying silken and loose flowing fabrics that move well, and Shadar Kai preferring leathers and wool to fight away the harsh cold of the Shadowfell.

Now... onto more specific explanations of the races!

Shadar Kai. Shadar Kai are one of the two Original Races of Elves. They were created alongside Eladrin, and at first were put into the Material Plane before the Creators decided to split the Material plane into 3, which resulted in the creation of the Shadowfell and Feywilds. Shadar Kai are definitely the most unpredictable of the elves, The Hunt is incredibly strong in them, and as such they get very distracted by that need to go out and kill some poor beast. Because of this, the Shadowfell is relatively safe where Elven societies exist, pretty much anything that’s deemed a danger is ripped apart. Their Shadowfell sister-race, the Shadow Orcs, keep them at an arm’s distance, but even if there’s surface bickering, but the two races are very close and if a larger enemy comes, the two team up and their combined forces easily dispatch any dangers.

Shadar Kai are the largest of all the elves. Stronger, more ferocious, and definitely way more extreme. Their society employs very Art Deco styles, unlike the other Elves who prefer the more fluid Art Nouveau looking styles. Shadar Kai have tons of piercings, and as they come of age, they get large geometric tattoos that cover their entire bodies to separate the youngins from adults. Shadar Kai do not have very colourful natural colours. Their eyecolour ranges from all tones from white to black, and occasionally very pale colours of any kind. Their Sclera tends to range from grey to black. Skintones range from black to white, and this is true for their hair too. The exception is with Ghost Shadar Kai, who are born pure white except for their sclera, and the result is a very jarring humanoid. They have feathery growths adorning their skin, mostly on the face, but down the back, on the shoulders and neck, as well as forearms is also common.

Up next are the Eladrin, who are really crazy and obviously very very horny because they ended up creating the false elves all on their own. They’re native to the Feywild, but very often travel to the Material Plane, so Eladrin are much more common than Shadar Kai. Like their Shadowfell counterparts, they have growths as well, but it ranges wildly from individual to individual, and even their season. 

Eladrin can be pretty much any colour, and often have skin markings. They’re a colourful bunch. Eladrin men tend to be VERY ostentatious, and the less actually properly covering their skin, the better. But don’t let the bright colours, horniness and smaller size distract you, because the Eladrin are only marginally better than Shadar Kai when it comes to dealing with the Hunt. They’re a bunch of party animals but will definitely rip your throat out if they feel threatened.

Surface High Elves are the best at taking care of their Hunt instinct, and actually have it so under wraps that they have extensive cities filled with so much art of all kind that they make other races forget that Elves are actually nuts. Surface High Elves developed after certain clans of Eladrins began losing their connections to the Feywild after spending extensive amounts of time on the Material Plane.

(Elerath isn’t a Sun Elf but he presents himself as such)

The men dress a LITTLE more sensibly, but the sheer variety of High Elf fashion can lead to some... weird clothing choices. Surface High Elves don’t have the jewel tone range of their Eladrin cousins, but still come in all kinds of skintones, hair colours and eye colours. They do not have any growths of any kind, and actually have super soft skin! (poking elf cheeks is super satisfying) The main difference between Sun and Moon Elves is mostly their colour schemes and sleep cycles. Sun Elves are diurnal, Moon elves are nocturnal.

Drow developed from an offshoot of Surface High Elves when they travelled into the Underdark to protect the Surface from Aberrations that had started migrating to the surface and causing chaos. Unlike canon Drow, Drow on Manala are not as bad with their overwhelming misandry and the whole “treating men like garbage” thing doesn’t exist. They’re still strongly matriarchal, and men are held to a different standard, but in a completely different way. Drow men are THE most beautiful group of elves in the entire world, and most high ranking ladies have harems of handsome men who they protect with such overwhelming ferocity that it almost rivals that of Shadar Kai. So I guess Drow men still get the short end of the stick but hey, at least they get pampered?? (But if you’re a handsome man, your chances of getting out into the world is... almost nil)

The Drow are zealous worshipers of The Spider, the Archfey of Weaving, Protection and Good Fortune, and due to this, they work in tandem with various Drider, who in this setting are natural Fey creatures, not drow dudes who fucked up a weird and complicated ritual. (Can you tell that I hate canon Drow culture? Because I really do. Drow have such great potential so here I am, turning things on its head)

Drow skintones range from white to charcoal, and sometimes have a slight purple tone. Eye colours tend to be jewel tones, but yellows, oranges and greens are very uncommon. Hair ranges from white to black, but can also be bright purple.  The exception is with ghost drow, who are pure white. Even their pupils are difficult to distinguish from their iris so they look super jarring.

Wood Elves are a fun bunch. They don’t mingle with other elves as much, not do they associate with Amali much, but they have good relations with both. Most Wood Elf cities are hidden from the world at large since they tend to just keep to themselves and protect nature from other races, and to protect the other races from whatever lurks in the forest. 

They have ears with extra lobes attached, and many also have fur on the tips and the back of the ears. Some individuals even have furry manes that run down their spines! Their colours are basically any shade of brown you can imagine. They span the entire human gamut, also include greys, and sometimes are a little too yellow or red toned to be completely right. They also sometimes have stripes or spots on their skins!

Then there’s the Sea Elves! Unlike other elves, Sea Elves are not mammalian. They lack breasts, and their young can eat fish pretty much as soon as they’re born. Sea Elf Babies are born very small, but more developed and take a while longer to get to their adult sizes since Sea Elves are quite large when it comes to elves. They have patches of scales on their skin, and gills. They can breathe both above and underwater, and most large Sea Elf societies are underwater, built into cliffs by the coast

Any colour a fish is, they can be. As such, Sea Elves are seen as very striking individuals if they come from more tropical seas, and they become very sought after courtesans.

Elves in general are really horny. Unlike most media where elves are seen as aloof and standoffish and holier-than-thou because of their beauty and long lifespans, on Manala, ALL elf subraces are pretty easy to seduce. They enjoy the attention, and as a result, the entire realm is filled with half-elves of ALL kinds of mixtures. Also, gender is so fluid in elven society. An Elf picks how they present themselves and because of the ease at which magic is available, they can sculpt their bodies to fit how they wish to be seen. Elves said Trans Rights.

Now... there’s one type of elf I didn’t touch on, and those are the Aetherians. The Aetherians don’t play much of a role on Manala because they’ve actually left. Aetherians are essentially Space Elves and they have WEIRD crazy powers. They’re the creators of the realm, but after they deemed their newest project complete enough, they left. Well. Most of them did. Two of them remain in the Realm but I’m not going to reveal their identities.

Aetherians are HUGE. They’re like. 9-10 feet tall, and have geometric grooves in their skin that glow. They also have floating crowns of shards above their heads. They’re a mystery, and were involved in the creation of the world, but aside from that almost nothing is known of them.

So uhhh yeah. Those are my D&D elves.

I’ll add a little bonus section of the Ozarathan Elves here as well because that’s fun:

I haven’t finished drawing the lineup so the anatomy is whack on some of these here’s a general idea of their sizes??

(Also in IAOKOFT) The Solarians – slightly scorched skin, tanned, warm grey/brownish sclera, live in high mountains, art deco style, very isolationist.

(Also in IAOKOFT) The Umbrals - Reskinned Manala Shadar Kai and Ghost Shadar Kai, cousins to Umbrals, very similar aesthetics

The Vokorians- Reskinned Manala Wood Elves. They have the same fluffy ears but also have tails.

The Hush-Hush – Reskinned Manala Drow and Ghost Drow, but also have tails.

The Maritimians- Scaled Skin in parts, fins and gills, often have tails. Freshwater and Saltwater varieties exist.

(Also in IAOKOFT) The Zephyrians- Elves with small wings. Often have feathering on their bodies, and also have feathered tails. Live in moving cities that get moved by the wind. Nomadic.

(Also in IAOKOFT) The Uzarians- High Elves, the most typical elves.

(Also in IAOKOFT) The Duneriders- Desert elves. Grey sclera, dark skin, have marks, offshoot of Solarians, but have rounded highly mobile ears.

[jamiebluewind]

Character Descriptions for Fantasy High

Season 2 episode 5

I decided to give you guys all the visual info for the notable characters from the latest episode (and a few random details I thought might help with their vibe). Please let me know if you have more to add or spelling corrections and let's have some fun! ^_^

If any of yall create art or a story using what I did here, for gods sakes tag me or shoot me an ask/PM so I can see it! I love everything yall create, but not everything shows up in the Fantasy High tag, so I would love to get the opportunity to see things I would miss otherwise ^_^

***

Jamina Joy

Alternate spellings for name: Jaminna, Jamyna, Jamynna, Jemina, or a nickname for Benjamina

War forged: Living automaton made of stone and rusted steal and wood

8.5 feet tall

Right eye is gleaming bright latern eye (sort of a golem magic robot look) and left eye is short circuited with visible tungsten wire (that would normally be lit) is frayed. The working eye makes a sound and (combined with Brennan's hand movement) appears to be able to zoom and/or scan.

Right hand has 3 stone fingers that close like a claw (Brennan's hand movement indicates the movement is similar to a claw machine) and left hand is a four barrel rotating cannon.

Tri-clawed "feet" (more robotic than human approximations)

Long blue captain's coat, dirty white normal sailor's shirt (under her coat), striped pants (no color given) that go down to her "feet"

Deep husky voice (inhale or growl sound before she starts talking each time).

No approximation of a heart or thing that beats. "In my chest of stone and wood, there beats no heart to keep in time."

No knowledge of Solace, it's tech, or it's culture.

***

Alester Ash

Alternate spellings for name: Alistair, Alastair, Alistair, Aleister, Allister, Alister, Alester, and Alaister

Teenage tiefling (Brennan said he looks young many times and sometimes called him a kid, so probably younger than the group)

Bright red skin with a tail and cloven hooves

Malnourished, scrawny, clean shaven (or just hairless)

Scarf and jangly jewelry

Said it was rumored that he was descended Geryon (deposed former lord of the Fifth circle of hell) on his mother side and Dispater (lord of the second circle of hell) on his father's side

Was a street urchin and can't read.

Currently a warlock (due to Bill Seacaster's patron pyramid scheme) with low intelligence (and probably low on wisdom too), but decent charisma.

***

Garthy O'Brien

Nonbinary half-orc aasimar

Descendant of "risen devils" called Za-zhear-ee (closed captioning spell it Zajiri)

Muscular and tall

Sides and back of head is shaved with a flop of black hair on top

Whites of eyes are black, irises are shimmering metalic gold, and pupils are black. Their irises can spiral when they examine things.

Top surgery scars disguised with geometric celestial tattoos

Thin line geometric tattoo work around their wrists and biceps

Floral tattoos on their midsection with some sharp leaves

No shirt, fabric heavy harem pants, and fine boots with a myriad of belts and straps

A little metalic silver accent makeup on their lips (gesture makes it seem like it's a line in the center) and a little around their eyes.

Massive two-handed scimitar (kept on their back) with gold rings stamped into the back of the blade, the sharp edge on the curve and rings jangling on the back of it.

Sexually? Yes.

Zajiri are risen devils of the orc pantheon that represent everything in life that is soft, wonderful, beautiful, pleasurable, and pleasing. Like holy succubi who tempt orcs away from the ways of their god. "The job is to fuck people into being decent basically."

***

James Wicklaw

Ilithid mindflayer

6.5 feet tall

Underdark humanoid with squid-like face, beady eyes, and tentacles that come out of his face (one with a peg leg) that hide his beak

Wearing a bright scarlet coat and blue shirt with an intense crystaline sabor by his side

Captain of The Crimson Claw

He eat brains, drinks mead, hates Bill Seacaster, hates Fabian, and thinks there should be a pirate king

***

Mentions

Cathilda the Black, Terror of the Celestine Sea

Random racist dwarf with double braided beard covered in firecrackers (about an hour in the stream) which Fig disguised herself as.

Adaine: Put on a tricorner hat (but is still in her normal clothes)

Gorgug: Got a huge tin flower tattoo on his right arm at the shoulder. Also some Zajiri celestial runes on his right forearm

Fig: Pain and pleasure tattooed in Zajiri celestial runes. Edit: @daxina pointed out that Fig may have gotten the tattoos on her wrists as that was where she originally intended to get the tattoo, but she also pointed to her knuckles during the part when getting the tattoo, so it's unclear which is correct at this time.

Kristen: Neck tattoo of Tracker's name on the right side of her neck.

Tracker: Neck tattoo of Kristen's name on the right side of her neck.

Riz: All the clues he's found so far during the current investigation given to a tattoo artist. Most likely all text, but not confirmed. The words "Night Yorb" as a chest piece (unknown if other words were also put on his chest). Other clues on his shoulders. Said if they ran out of room to use his back. Edit: @mellowyall discovered that Riz got Garthy on his right inner forearm (held up his arm at a right angle with his palm forward and pointed towards the inner area of his forearm, same area as brachioradialis muscle). As Riz mispronounced the name as Gardy/Guardy, it may or may not be misspelled. Murph also motioned to his lower neck as well as his chest, shoulders, and forearm during the scene where he mentioned his forearm tattoo, so that might be the extent of the area for his tattoos.

***

Next ->

[thetitanalone]

I come bearing MANY questions which I all have to ask in full cuz the emojis don't work on pc. 🐉Explain a myth or legend that you’re proud of! 🗺Which country(/continent/culture/faction) was your favourite to create? 📚How does the education system work? (If there is one!)🍽What might the average person’s diet look like?🎼What sort of music is there?🌋Have there been any notable natural disasters in the history of your world?🗞How do people learn about current events?🦠Describe a common illness

I’m just gonna do all of the specific ones for Tethia for simplicity sake

🐉 Explain a myth or legend that you’re proud of!

Tbh The myth surrounding the Dream Lord particularly sticks out in my mind. It was incredibly sexy of me to make an ancient forgotten god of dreams and reality that was responsible for creating half of the universe. Although I do rather enjoy the myth of The Moon Mother and The Star Father and how they dove into the Astral Sea and accidentally pierced the veil to the Far Realm and essentially Ascended to become The Moon Presence and The Devouring Dark. 🗺 Which country(/continent/culture/faction) was your favorite to create?

Tethia! Without a doubt it was the most fun. Modeling society after france during Louis the 14th’s reign, creating the sport éteindre... they’re a fun playground to mess around in and get creative.

📚 How does the education system work? (If there is one!)

Its fairly basic all across the board. Most small towns and villages, you learn the basics of math and reading at temples. Its only bigger towns that have actual Schools and usually stuff like Universities are reserved for big cities and capitals. Private education and tutors can be acquired of course, but the cost is A Lot so its usually only nobles and rich folks who get that. 🍽 What might the average person’s diet look like?

Lots of fresh fruit definitely. And a fair amount of grain and assorted poultry. But especially fruit. Magical orchards and a general warm climate means many much fruit all year round. The south of Tethia around the mountain range has a lot of mushrooms thanks to trade with the Underdark via Charvaley 

🎼 What sort of music is there?

Good question! I imagine a lot of piano. More Romantic period music than classical. Very fluid, but still a method to it. Not at all like Voygonchaya and their symphonies and opulent operas. Of course thats not to say Tethia doesnt have opera theyre just vastly different in style. I’m gonna be real with you, Tethian operas are scandalous

🌋 Have there been any notable natural disasters in the history of your world?

well you know when titans of chaos are walking around with no concept of caring for human life, you tend to lose a few hundred........... thousand. But hey! That sorta thing hasnt happened in a long time. I mean there was that one time when a powerful fey spirit cursed the entirety of Waisteterra with an eternal blizzard but i dont know if i’d consider that a NATURAL disaster. All of the notable natural disasters stem from magic in some kinda way.

🗞 How do people learn about current events?

Gossip and town criers. Although, Wizards canonically have a bit of a newsletter. Like. If you, an arcane magic user, have access to a crystal ball, you can tap into the news gossip channels. But out in the boonies, how many wizards other than Joana are out there?

Describe a common illness

I haven’t thought too much on it tbh. I imagine the disease scene is relatively similar? Of course there are magic diseases but come on. Gangre is canonically called the Druid’s Curse though 

[thecryingcryptid]

Hey ive been following you for a while and im not sure if its just my bad memory,but I haven't really seen a post about your ocs? They sound really fun from what I can tell from the tags of that last post. Id love to know more about them?Hope Im not bothering you! 🌟

not at all! yeah idk i have a couple sideblogs for them (but it’s more of a what their tumblr would look like not so much things specifically about them if you get what i mean). you precious monarch butterfly have some lil quick bios bout my top 3 girls

Reywynn Nightstar | D&D | rogue + warlock | Queer Table Universe

- Chaotic neutral/good moon elf who is an arcane trickster. She has ginger hair and one green eye, she lost the other eye to a cursed beholder eye charm thing. She is hella chaotic and loves lame jokes and pulling pranks. She is also hella pansexual and is drawn to lovers who are fun and know how to have a good time. She worked for a rogue organization in the Feywild traveling the wilderness to ruins and shit (and sometimes cities) to...reclaim items of arcane and cultural value. On one mission she tripped a plane shift trap and was sent to the Material Plane. She is not educated on inter-planar travel so she had no fuckin clue how to get back, she just kinda travelled around Faerun taking up odd thieving jobs until she teamed up with the group to work a bigger job with more pay.  She is the SMOLEST bean (next to our gnome ranger) at 5ft tall. FUN FACT: that was 100% not her original height but when the DM asked me how tall she was at like level 6 I realized I had not written it down anywhere so randomly rolled for it right then and there. Rey is a smol rage bean with the lamest sense of humor AND I LOVE HER. She has also written a romance novel based on the group’s adventures! It’s not like the penny smut novels she favors but more of a dramatic love epic. I have not actually written out the novel, and probably never will, but I DO have a basic plot outline written if anyone ever wants to see it (you won’t understand how the plot relates to in-game events but it still might be interesting).

Likes: bad jokes, smut novels, and stabby things

Amaris | D&D | wizard | (future) Empire universe

- Neutral good tiefling with moonstone skin and black antlers. 6ft tall with wavy silver hair and bright purple eyes against black scleras.  She is probably my bean with the saddest backstory. Her father travels as a fortune teller, though he was more interested in using his good looks and mystic background to seduce women (especially wealthy women). On one such occasion his affair with a local landowner’s human wife resulted in a child that was very obviously not her husband’s. For whatever reason, maybe he really did care for her, he agreed to raise Amaris and keep her away from the anger of the husband. That being said, he was NOT a good father. It was very obvious from a young age that Amaris had a talent for learning magic that he did not, and he greatly exploited that to make his life easier and help him make more money as they travelled. He was very emotionally and verbally abusive and it wasn’t until her mid 20s that she gained the courage to run away from him. She left with some fancy arcane armor she was supposed to be making for him, but now it helps keep her safe as she explores the world on her own terms. She also has the mystic background, but to her father’s annoyance, she doesn’t flatter patrons and tell them what they want to hear instead choosing to give the blunt truth. Sometime in her teens they were close to the town where her mother lived and she went to try and see her, but was discovered by the husband and was chased down and attacked with scythes/sickles. Her back now has a thick scar from the base of her skull all the way down her spine. 

She HAS made a cameo in the Queer Table universe as an npc and is married to a nice (and hot) water genasi smuggler and they have a daughter. In that universe she also has a half-brother, Rexes, who is a Monster Hunter ranger.

Likes: books on arcane theory and astronomy, cinnamon rolls, and lavender

Nalaia | D&D | druid | (current) Empire universe

- Neutral/chaotic annoyed 6ft tiefling with green and peachy skin and short-ish horns (think typical devil horns). Long ass denim/blue hair that really needs cut (it’s almost to her knees) and is grumpy AFFFFFFF. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her so her father raised her himself in the underdark. He was also a druid and took a lot of joy in helping her develop her abilities. When she was about 17-18 he died of a fever and urged her to explore the above world and all nature had to offer there. She set out and ended up staying at a smallish town and falling in love with townmaster. Lots of backstory plot I haven’t FULLY worked out but the townmaster pressured her into focusing more on healing magic and only growing crops the town needed BUT THEN some shit was happening in the forest and despite Nalaia’s pleading the townmaster had the forest burnt down. Being fucking distraught and betrayed by people she thought cared about her she ran off to The Mist Moors and lived as a hermit in a secluded cabin in the swamp. Occasionally people would find their way there if they needed potions or something and sometimes she would help, if only to get them to leave her alone. She couldn’t stay secluded in the swamp though after ALL the dragons rose from the dead AND ATE THE SUN. So now she travels with some cool people to help restore the sun and save The World Roots which are responsible for all the growth of nature. She still generally does NOT like society as an organized concept and gets really uncomfortable and clingy to the paladin when they have to be in whatever post apocalyptic towns they come across. She is (at this point in her life/adventure) very likely to choose nature over people.

Likes: moss, walking barefoot through the mud, banjo music

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Eleint the 2nd 1489

He plucked at the strings. He was constantly doing this. They never sounded right to him, so he would tune each to resonance. Off from a typical lute, six strings either sounding like two too many or not nearly enough for him.

"Ooh, It's a passion, Ooh, you can feel it in the air~"

he more spoke under his breath than sang, but something about it carried. Some subtle magic laced into the sound, something between the strings plucked by those sharp fingernails. Iliad would glance up only a second, not at anything in particular, but as if to pull his head out of what ever world he'd left it in to catch his breath. Face hidden by veil and hood, he'd dive back into it.

Melzan heard the music. He'd been looking over his holy book. Magical music. Making sure his face wasn't visible he got up and followed the tune. Not surprised by Illiad being the musician he chose to listen. Melzan did not attempt to remain unnoticed as he approached.

The drow kept his distance to a few feet away, more out of habit from trying to hide himself from others than actually not wanting to be nearer.

His voice was always strange when he sang, the way it filtered away his strange accent. The musician was strange. Most bards wove their magic with song, and he was clearly capable. Instead he used the same kinda common gestures as any sorcerer. He didn't seem to be enjoying the tool as he played it, leaning against a stump felled some time ago. But it sounded pretty. Chords that didn't seem to be native to this realm.

"Lift your hands and voices, free your minds and join us~ you can feel it in the air~"

He didn't seem to notice melzan's approach. Or, maybe that was why he lifted his head before. Either way it didn't seem for any consequence to him. Actually, melzan would recognize this song, though the elf wouldn't be able to feel the better part of it's magic due to the nature of his race.

When Illiad finished Melzan clapped a few times. His gold eyes glowed under his hood as he tilted his head.

"You don't seem to enjoy your own music. Is there a reason?" Melzan didn't sound like he required an answer, just basic curiosity. "How easily can you play to a new tune?"

"I'm, used to something a bit less, pedestrian I guess?"

He tilted his head, phantom amber eyes of his illusion looking to melzan's. his body language was his emotional indicator. Wrapped up tight and only showing those fake amber eyes.

"I'm absolutely garbage at picking things up like that. I'm not a trained bard."

"I'm certain you are better than you think. Instruments were never something I learned. It's a bit amusing that I'd end up with a goddess who loves music and poetry. It's one of the things I've really enjoyed about the surface," Melzan folded his arms as he thought about what to say next.

The man said he would be garbage, but it might be worth a try. Not to mention Melzan really wasn't sure how to be friendly.  What would a human or another elf do? Probably try to get him to do what they wanted anyway, garbage or no.

"The instrumental part doesn't have many, uh, cords? Notes? I'm a pretty garbage singer so we'll both be bad?" admitting he wasn't good at something, normally that would be ridiculed by his kind as a sign of weakness.

"If you're looking for common ground, you've all ready had me at the aesthetic love."

He smiled up to the drow, motioning to their similar sense of dress. These conversations always amused him. Genuine awkwardness was a treat for him, something he was able to take in often with this group.

Talk of his goddess lifted a sharp eyebrow, not that melzan could see it. He had always been so expressive, hiding behind them. Almost felt naked to be so covered up. He wondered if that would matter to a goddess.

"If you sang melz, I would play with you. Might not be the sound you're looking for but, I will play."

"Common ground? Oh... similarities. It's not as fast as the one you were singing," Melzan had to think about what Illiad had meant.

Melzan didn't understand a few terms in common very well. He knew sarcasm, but joking and slang were something he had to continue working on. Swallowing he nodded and hummed a little tune. When Illiad got it, he began to sing, softly.

Melzan almost felt embarrassed about doing something so useless, but at the same time it warmed him up inside. It was a song that many who worshiped Eilistraee sang, words from their goddess.

((stealing song from dragon age because it fits the lore a bit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dULdG1dGPos ))

When he finished he nodded. "Thank you...."

Plucking along was a simple thing. His notes close enough to what he thought melzan's voice needed more so then what he was look ingredients for. It, was eerie to him how the tone seemed to slowly shift from him. Fingers moving away from the established notes, to find tones more fitting on their own.

Elvish was a strange language for him. Synapses firing off and fussing about then meanings of words as he heard them. Like he was just on the cusp of understanding what they meant. He couldn't help but feel as though he was supposed to know. Elves frustrated him. Would the women who'd brought him into this world have known this song? Would she have sang it to comfort him as a child...

"Any time melz. You should know by now I enjoy spending time with you."

The young man laughed softly behind the illusion.

"You don't need to thank a friend for something like that love."

Melzan narrowed his eyes to figure out if Illiad was being sarcastic or not when he mentioned 'enjoying' spending time with him. Deciding he meant it honestly had his eyes widening in surprise. Soon the Drow looked away, unsure of what to say to those kind remarks. Even his old 'friends' did not regard him in such a manner. Not to mention no other Drow would be caught dead saying some of those things. It made him nervous and uneasy but Melzan took a deep breath and tried to ease his tensed shoulders.

"Sit melzan, it's alright to relax."

He yawned softly in response to the fries narrowing golden eyes. Atreyu really didn't get the ridgedness of it all. Expressing little things like that, it was simple and clean. Opening up without giving any ground or taking any loss. He's save the worry and stress for the real secrets. Just bury them all under open sentiment.

"You gotta teach me how to speak with you to avoid those reactions."

After taking a moment to consider the offer he moved to sit with Illiad. Relaxing is not something a Drow did easily. Most of their training built around paranoia and distrust didn't help the matter.

"What do you mean? Some of your words are..." he rubbed one of his hands with the other, thumb running over his palm as the right word struggled to find it's way out.  'Nice', 'Startling', 'untrustworthy', 'sarcastic', 'strange', 'affectionate' ... Finally he decided on a word. "Unexpected."

"I don't think the way every one else does."

He blinked, tilting his head.

"I don't really think much before I speak either. Just kinda blurt of something almost ok and steer into the current..."

Melzan let out a single laugh at remembering how Illiad had acted with people so far. The man certainly did not have a way with words as much as he had a way with song and music.

"The things you say are not bad they are just not things I am used to hearing. At all. Even the term of endearment. No one has ever referred to me as such and there's not such a word in my original language so when I actually realized what you were calling me meant I thought you might be being literal or sarcastic. I'm still a bit new to common and the surface. It's hard when the language has a meaning for words, but sometimes the word might not mean what the person meant to say, but it does anyway," Melzan shrugged. "Outside of other drow and those I met in the Underdark, I've no experience with others."

"Well, no pleasant ones."

He tilted his head, blinking again as he listened. He hadn't heard melzan say, half as much in one a single session.

"It's, words can be frustrating alright? People are a pain in the ass. They take things, the wrong way and... you should see me work when I don't care about who I'm speaking to or, wether or not someone I love is listening."

He sighed.

"I've never known another drow. You're my introduction. I promise that it hasn't been a bad one."

"You should not take my interaction as normal drow behavior, trust me. Most Drow would slit your throats as you slept. Manipulate you into killing those you care about. Just in general do their best to cause you the most pain they possibly could before killing you," Melzan was tense again as he thought about his time in his homeland. He'd still been a 'youth' when he was taken into the male band of traders/rebels.

Atreyu's hand found its self patting melzan's head, not looking over or saying anything for a moment.

"I keep meeting people from from terrible cultures. People who have escaped for what ever reasons."

He frowned, not taking his hand away, just gently patting.

"There are a lot of terrible people. Lot of terrible worlds and cultures. Even people who are at peace are terrible. Every single person I've ever met is the same in chains."

The hand patting his head startled Melzan and it took a lot of control not to jerk away. He held his hands together so tightly they trembled before he convinced himself that it was a regular gesture. He knew that patting a persons shoulder or hand was a thing, but not the head. It didn't hurt, or feel upsetting, just new.

"I think when it comes to cruelty demons may be the only ones out there worse than the Drow... But I have not been over the entire world so, that might be wrong. I've never known another race that openly accepts slaughtering and torturing their own families. Children, babies and all. Sometimes just for 'fun'," Melzan looked around to make sure there weren't any others that may be startled by his appearance. Satisfied he reached up and let his hood fall back and uncovered his face.

"Well, honestly, that is... uh, a really fucking stupid way to do things."

He nodded, pulling his hand back and putting his weight on melzan's shoulder. He was, too light. Sickly light for a human man, even more for a half orc. It might have even be weird to see him without food in his mouth.

"I know what it's like to be under to influence of an evil deity."

"... There's something more wrong with you than you let on. You're keeping it from everyone. Not just what you are. I realize you don't want people to know. Cursed or worse. Constant need to eat. The so thin you probably should be dead appearance, although I'm not sure how much of that is for show," Melzan took in a deep breath and looked at him before smiling a little. "You're pretty fucked up, friend. Guess that's why we all actually are getting along. All fucked up in our own ways. Also, I'm using that word correctly? It's a vulgar common word used to emphasize things, correct?"

"It's just very lewd to keep saying while we're so close to each other."

He lied casually. Deflection, swerve and bob and duck and deflect. He was an excellent liar.

"Yeah, we're all a mess huh? I'm just a hungry guy trying to keep a pretty girl safe. Like a cliche story."

"Lewd?" Melzan thought about that and what they normally thought was 'lewd' on the surface. His skin around his cheeks darkened ever so slightly, hardly enough to even be noticeable. "Yes. We are a mess. I've never really read stories like that. So this is all kind of new. Also, you're not just a hungry guy. That 'ritual' you do in the morning is not for meditation or worship." Melzan poked the man in the chest. "And I bet it has something to do with your missing shadow and how much you care for Nessa. I like mysteries, and I don't forget about them. Just because you wont tell me or try to avoid it, doesn't mean I'm going to completely drop the issue. I can have patience."

"Well, you'll out live me love. So I just gotta wait till I drop."

He chuckles, finishing his ritual and creating his dome of space around them. Taking a breath, he released the glamour that was masking him and pulled his hood back.

"I have a lot of answers, all of them are lies and I really hope you don't hate me for it. Maybe some time I'll tell you about the derst house where I met her."

"This really does seem a lot like home sometimes," Melzan smiled and didn't seem bothered by the fact that they would be lies. "Your business is your business. I'm not curious about how you met Nessa, more I'm curious about what's going on with you. As a healer, it worries me. I want to help you, but I don't know how." Melzan admitted and looked at Illiad. "Also, we all might die. I'll only outlive you if no one kills me first. Which, considering everything, may be likely. I have a lot of people who hate me. A lot."

"I intend to keep you alive remember?"

He yawned and stretched, taking his weight off of melzan. The half orc was, a definite change from the false human who had just been sitting with the drow. Olive skin, and a broad scar across his face. His orcish features were minimal. Sharp canines, but hardly the tusks one expected to see, a more animalistic nose, a long jagged ears. His left eye was, beast like. A sharp green iris, and blade strip of black at it's centre. Orcish. His right however, wasn't so much an eye as it was a Maroon coloured orb almost glowing.

"I mentioned the house because it was a mystery. Haunted and evil, but i pieced together it's story. I like stories."

He shrugged, pulling the cloak off, no one else could enter the hut so, he had his privacy. His breast plate would take a moment.

"If you're concerned about my health then you can look me over."

"Maybe I'll have to look into it later but haunted houses aren't so mysterious most of the time. Also, yes, I do hope you can keep me alive," he watched Illiad and tried to figure out if he'd put on weight with the disguise down.

He was a bit surprised that they were in his hut with such privacy without the others. Most of the time Illiad summoned the hut when it was time to sleep for all of them. At the same time when the half-orc began to take off his breastplate it made more sense.  This apparently was something that Milo, Nessa, and Sam had no knowledge of.

"You really do trust me," Melzan said out loud more to himself than to Illiad. "I - uh... I'll do my best not to um... betray it..." he'd heard other people say that and it felt odd, but right to admit.

If anything, the breast plate and the layers of clothing under played exactly how under weight he was. Under the plate he wore a simple loose shirt. Something a sailor might wear. He was tall, inches taller out side of the illusion, and his shoulders were broad the way one would expect a half orc to be. But his body was thin, and lithe, too thin. He, didn't look sickly, in fact his physical constitution was well above average. Atreyu was just thin.

"You'd be surprised how often I tell the truth. Like I said, I trust you."

He flicked his wrist, and a crossbow bolt popped into existence. He tossed it onto the cloak.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I am getting better, slowly."

Melzan looked at the bolt then back to illiad. So this man wanted him to keep even more secretes. Not that he couldn't, but Melzan wasn't sure how the other team members would react to that once he heard about it.

"Getting better slowly is a good thing at least." Melzan nodded.

The bolt was no secret from the others. Just a means of defence in case of being unarmed. Defence that could sting a good deal more then cantrips. Save the dagger in his boot that he was just about to toss onto the cloak, he was completely unarmed.

"People have secrets. Mine are to protect nessa and my self. Pretty soon it won't matter."

"My health doesn't matter for now. I can still fight, I can skill cast, and I can still lie. Every other thing is extra melzan."

Melzan nodded. Though he moved to look over Illiad.

"Your health might not matter now, but that could change. It's very, very easy for someone to go from sickly to bed ridden. Granted I was wrong and you look even more starved now."

He looked up at the scar on Illiad's face and wondered how he survived from that. Likely friends or a healer. Maybe he didn't survive and a cleric or someone revived him. Melzan had his own scars, but nothing quite as severe, at least he didn't think so. Then again no one ever saw  his scars. Even with other he only uncovered his face. His gloves stayed on, and basically everything he wore stayed on. Nothing else exposed but his face. Elf like features, high cheek bones, pointed ears although they were shorter than surface elf ears. Dark, almost blue skin, and silvery white hair.

-insert insight check of 18-

He's not lying about keeping secrets to protect himself and nessa.

He definitely looks worse without his illusion up.

And you get the idea that he has no fucking idea what's going on with his body, or if he is getting better

Melzan frowned. He reached out and paused before touching Iliad's arm. He wasn't sure if the half orc wanted him to try and figure this all out.

Atreyu stretched, taking a sip from the ewer he kept on his hip. How he wasn't always completely sloshed was dizzying. His half orc physiology was probably the only thing keeping him... standing anyway. He didn't flinch as melzan touched him, actually, almost. It had been awhile since anyone actually touched him. He took another sip, eyes shifting to the drow's. "Thirsty melz?"

"... I suppose," he nodded. "Do you want to figure this all out? I'm not promising that i can, but i can at least try," he would take the ewer when offered.

"No? Maybe?" He shrugged, holding the glorified wine jug out. It, was pretty, made of some brassy metal, adorned with images of wolves and deers and other forest animals dancing about in relief. It, felt as though it was half full, liquid swishing inside, but if melzan were to look, it would be empty. "Just take a sip, it's weird but it pours." The wine it's self was, a delightful pink fizzy liquid, deliciously sweet and very strong. As likely to catch a person off guard with hiccups as alcohol content.

Melzan was caught off guard slightly. The hiccups started soon after his drink. He couldn't cast spells hiccuping like that. During on hiccup he glared a little at Iliad.

Then, he removed one of his gloves and reached to touch his arm. A maybewas as good as a yes he figured.

He smiles playfully as the hiccups started, a genuine and abruptly handsome smile. He shook it off after a moment with a yawn.

"Don't, beat yourself up if you can't do anything love."

"I won't. Just means i have to research more."

Melzan frowned as he realized that there wasn’t much he could do. The curse was strong and out of his power, but he could at least assist with the pain or the side effects of the curse. 

[thefrigidlightofday]

Savored Petal, the Auld Locomotor

The Locomotor is machine, and beast, and ghost - or, at least, machine composed jointly of metal and gears, flesh, and ectoplasm. Few such miracles survive from the Last Flowering - hence the name. Hopping and springing along its course, the Locomotor hops and jumps from the frosty coalfield tropics to the torrid arctic, drawing a line as he does - the Savored Petal - and carrying soldiers and sorcerers, luxuries and food up and down that little line of civilization. The Petal is a mechanical river whose current holds together what can still, just barely, describe itself as a hemispheric economy.

The Locomotor Itself

The Locomotor resembles a gargantuan snake or locust, hopping and slithering, apt to destroy most anything in its path. Fortunately, these paths are precisely determinate: it is connected to a series of fourteen rings, and will always move in a straight line, or very near so, towards the closest ring which is not one of the last two rings it passed through. If the path is through the air he will fly, if it is through the ground he will burrow. He will always take exactly one day to reah the next ring in his destination; if the destination ring moves, he will adjust his direction and velocity in order to allow this to be true. At each circle, it is possible to load and unload cargo.

The Locomotor requires arcane energy in order to function; if it runs out, he will stop. (Time spent stopped does not count against his calculation of getting to the next circle in one day - if he runs for four hours, stops from exhaustion, and remains idle for several days, he will reach its next destination twenty hours after being refilled.) This fuel comes in the form of blood sacrifice performed at the location of any one of the circles between his passing, or at the site of the Locomotor himself to restart him if he has gone idle.

For its typical needs, these sacrifices amount to one or two persons per day at the next circle, and since each circle is placed at or nor a major urban center, violent criminals as a matter of course suffice to feed it. Sometimes ectoplasm of a different psychic flavoring is required; these needs are communicated through dreams, omens, &c. to druids and warlocks sworn to the Petal. When required to shed the blood of the provably pure of heart, most operating centers employ principled political enemies when possible and trained votaries - religious volunteers, often pledged by upper-caste parents seeking to show their loyalty to the state - when necessary.

The rings, although nigh-indestructible and gargantuan, are of such slight density that a child could lift and run with one. It appears that they were meant to be mobile, though the destruction the Locomotor can cause tells against that theory - and, indeed, their capture of one by the Floating City of Dheb-Eir was intended by the leaders of that pirate metropolis to be used as a weapon, since Dheb-Eir could move and therefore place other locales in the path of the train-behemoth. This was eventually solved by the relocation of the nearest connecting rings to the shore, and, in the usual case, is simply solved by security.

Additionally, because of the Locomotor's routing algorithm, the removal of one or two links sufficiently far from the line can sever it completely, causing him to act as if he has reached the end (that is, when he looks for the closest ring other than the current one and the one before it, he finds the one two previous in the one ahead is further away than that.) It is believed that this has happened in the past, and is why the Southern hemisphere remains inaccessible.

The Custody of the Petal

During the Last Flowering, the organization which operated the Locomotor and its line was a private capitalist firm. In many ways, the Custodians of the Petal, which are its direct organizational successor, remains similar in form - it is a ruthless organization which attempts to leverage the transporation resources of the line in order to distribute the winnings to its owners in aliquot parts. But in the meantime, of course, the context has changed - gone are many alternative sources for investment, as are external sources of political power. The Locomotoral Custody still offers the services of transporting goods and persons themselves, but its transporation choices are more motivated by considrations (or the justification of) keeping civilization going, and its revenues are achieved more through taxation, rent, and tribute than services. Those revenues are still distributed to its principals, but less because these principals would otherwise take their investment elsewhere but because the families and other organizations that have a lock on ownership consider themselves socially obliged to maintain a certain level of conspicuous prosperity.

A complicated organizational chart exists, but fundamentally, the Custody is dominated by its dependence on every one of the circles to remain operative, and its difficulty in ensuring compliance at much detail anywhere. The result is a decentralized structure with promises of coordinated retaliation against anyone who allows the flow of blood to go dry or for the Petal to otherwise wilt. Local elites of whatever form operate the local franchises; the links of culture, people, and economic interdependence fostered by the Savored Petal itself lend them a degree of coherence. Beside this there are the druids and warlocks sworn to the Petal, its priests, and all the rest - a supplementary but essential structure of technical-ideological elites that transcends local loyalties in theory. "Secular" offices of either the global or local variety, and sometimes the less secular ones as well, tend to inheritable conditional on satisfactory service, though some are purchased for the short rather than long term and others are awarded purely on merit.

The Nodes of the Line

The Gleaning, where no one lives for long; those with naught else work to find or land to work come here to gather scraps of coal-dust from the ice fields, and bring them to the staion here. A large gantry stands here: once, it exploited the position close to the equator for launching orbital rockets; now, it still maintains a serviceable (for this age) observatory used by a College of Diviners. The coal is as essential for the Locomotor in its own way as the souls, and so prisoners are brought when labor reserves are weak - another form of sacrifice to keep the thing running.

Nemm.

Tschor Glagan: this malarial taiga is the breadbasket of the whole line. In addition to staples like honey, snow-rice, and timber, it also provides luxury monoculture such as marajuana and dreaming ejm. Like the Gleaning, it is a common destination for slaves.

Bitter Canyon* was once sweet, as fertile as Tschor - much grew here, and the canyons were carved by waters. After the changes to the climate, this is no longer so. Its ring might have been relocated, but it was as if an occult hand had grasped it near the end, and rigor mortis set in, for any attempt to steal the ring results in empowerment of its (whatever It is's) own sworn servants to prevent the theft. Because it is mighty and single-minded but not very clever, its priesthood has engaged in an effective deal with the other local franchises to regularly make attempts on their holy of holies, thus continually renewing the source of their power - which they can then use to repay (in a friendly, non-ironic way) those who have awakened it. Beyond this hoary dungeon and its scheming priests, Bitter Canyon is a blasted expanse of dead forest and half-sacked ruins.

Lath Alar.

The Floating City of Dheb-Eir, mentioned above, and under great threat should it turn to further shenanigans.

Nine Phrases of Respect.

Stonelorn.

The Even More Floating City of Zalle, which rests up in the atmosphere where the air is thin and breath can turn to ice before one's eyes. No one is quite certain why the platform of Zalle remains aloft, but the residents do know that particular minerals can be mined from the clouds themselves, and energy also "mined" by the heavy objects which the Locomotor can bring up, seemingly without effort, to be sent down a great mechanical elevator shaft to...

Undersky, the underdark city. A subterranean resevoir of spoiled milk serves to meet the food needs of most of its residents, although the food chain required for such is complex.

Shardmuck.

Thornreach is a city amidst the largest trunks and branches of the Great Cactaceal Forest. It was fashioned as such about 150 years ago as a new utopian community for some of the surviving elves - a place where they could live not as nobles over servants of other races, but utterly as equals of their own kind, unburdened by even having to think thoughts of mortality - but this collapsed rather quickly.

Old Darn is a great mountain which the Locomotor passes through - as in, literally passes though, as though all of it were a ghost. Moreover, it is just about impervious to anything else. Clearly, there is a ring inside, since the rings at Hellpont and Thornreach have moved, and the Locomotor treats the inside of the mountain as a node. The mountain has become the site of scientific investigations and religious pilgrimage, but, however, lacks the utility of actually being a load/unload station.

Hellpont, amid the great fungal forests of the arctic, is currently shut down on behalf of the Great Myconoidal Ukase. It is hoped that the situation will be resolved soon enough.