#writing: vierna

[iironwreath]

Nether [Vierna]

[cw: drug use, vomiting at the end, cult behaviour, spiders]

“The Spider Queen wishes to see you.”

Vierna had the pad of her foot on the floor when Athalia shrouded the doorway. Her voice and expression were mostly flat, marked with the barest shade of derision—Vierna almost didn’t understand. Athalia said it like it was mundane.

The Spider Queen wanted to see her? When she lived in her temple, under her many eyes? Vierna’s head throbbed.

Nepenthe swaggered in after, her gaze thrown over her shoulder and grinning at someone she’d exchanged greetings with. Where Athalia was all poised and narrow, Nepenthe was broad and expanded to fill the space, bracing a shoulder against the doorframe as she swung that easy smile on Vierna. She wasn’t in her armour, instead wearing comfortable clothes that covered her to the wrists, her pale hair pouring loose over one side of her head.

“Follow me,” Athalia instructed, snapping her fingers thrice like she was waking Vierna from another trance. “Nepenthe will help you.” She pivoted, the click of her heels following her like a second set of footsteps.

Nepenthe crossed the room. Vierna felt more ambushed than gracefully awakened—she didn’t have time to brush her hair or dress, forced out of bed in a simple shift. She counted herself lucky to slip on her shoes. She wondered if Athalia did this on purpose as a means to throw her off-guard or if she was just waiting for Vierna to wake up and didn’t have the patience for touch-ups.

It must have shown on her face, because Nepenthe said, “This is the highest honour, so it’s best not to keep her waiting. We’re going further down, but there’s no lift for it.”

Vierna and Nepenthe spoke like Vierna had no choice, at least not one that left her looking respectable. She doubted they would drag her kicking and screaming to—wherever it was—but refusing would have amounted to sacrilege.

The fog in her mind made talking feel like she was speaking around a mouthful of ooze, anyway. The only reason she could think semi-clearly was Athalia’s greater restoration and Lolth’s presence chipping away at Tharizdun’s efficacy.

Why had she accepted Dumaran’s help at all, if not to lean into Lolth? Was the voice of dissent her own, or planted by the Chained Oblivion?

She accepted Nepenthe’s elbow. Nepenthe hoisted her to her feet and they set off after Athalia, who waited beyond the ambulatory in front of one of the chapel alcoves. Tal’dorei’s refugees were housed in the Heart of Malice cathedral until they figured out who responded best to treatment and could be moved to different lodging.  

Athalia vanished into the stone, the alcove wall hiding her from the civilians trickling in and out of the nave. Vierna started, but Nepenthe tugged her arm. They proceeded through an illusory wall.

They descended a spiral staircase into what must have been the crypt. The ceiling bore down on them, more foreboding, and the crystals were spread further apart, creating a blend of lavender hue and monochrome. Vierna thought this was where she would converse with Lolth, but Athalia led them further, yanking a wall candelabra down on a hinge with a crack. A section to its left ground open, leaving an arched void with more plunging darkness beyond.

Of course. Lolth was a master of deceit—it could never be anything but a labyrinth. Vierna was her own vault of secrets; she never faulted Lolth for it, only saw her as intelligent and doing as she should, a goddess to take example from.

There were no proper stairs, only an uneven stone path on an incline. Vierna began to sweat between Nepenthe’s body and the closed air pressing in on her. It was claustrophobic after the high, vaulting spaces of Dumaran and the cathedral. Nepenthe offered to carry her on her back, but Vierna shook her head—each step strengthened her resolve. Her ankle was sore, sure, but her exhaustion was much deeper than that.

Some interminable time later, after a handful of twists and stretches, the tunnel opened. A church—less grand than the Heart of Malice, almost modest by comparison—waited at the end, set into the rock. They entered through a set of double doors.

Inside was more intimate than the cathedral. The architecture was similar, but shorter. On the far wall was an effigy of Lolth, cut in sharp, flattering shapes. The spider legs of her lower half extended from the wall and curved above a circular pool in the ground. Red gemstones sat in the place of her eyes and decorated her neckline and crown like drops of blood. She looked at ease in her power, eyes half-lidded and mouth drawn in an elegant smile, one of her humanoid arms resting over her chest while the other ascended.

Athalia crossed to a wooden table set against one of the aisle pillars. There were sundry items—ceremonial daggers, vials, a mortar and pestle, sheaves of dried herbs. Nepenthe followed, but casually, allowing Vierna to catch her breath and absorb the temple.

“It works best if you undress,” Athalia said without facing them, voice still a deadpan. Did she have any other tone? She poured from a decanter into a hand-sized bowl and turned to Vierna. “You’re to drink this, then lie in the pool face-up. It’s not deep. You won’t sink.”

She passed the bowl. A murky mud-brown liquid filled it halfway. Vierna lifted it to her nose—she couldn’t place the scent, but it smelled as appetizing as it looked, somewhere between sour and tart. It could have been poisonous.

“What—”

“A broth,” Athalia interrupted.

“From?”

“Bones,” Athalia said, approaching irritation. Vierna couldn’t tell if she was mocking her or not.

“No need to be curt, Athalia,” Nepenthe chided, but sounded amused. “I don’t think Vierna is asking because she won’t drink it, but because she’s curious.”

It was half-true, but Vierna wasn’t going to argue semantics if it got Athalia to explain. She couldn’t do it well, besides, through sign or voice.

Athalia sighed, shoulders dropping. “It’s a mixture of broth made from demon bones and some tea made from mushrooms we grow in the city. It has a tranquilizing effect—it will help open your mind and facilitate a connection.”

So not poison, then, but Vierna hadn’t thought to try anything from a demon because it might have acted like a toxin regardless. When they died, their ichor resembled the unending shadows of the Chained Oblivion. All the same in death. Maybe she should have—maybe she could have used it to her advantage. Maybe—

Moot now. Pointless, too-late ideas.

Vierna didn’t strip, but cupped the bowl in both hands and closed her eyes. The air quivered, plucked, like Lolth lurked in the hidden recesses and Vierna had landed on her web. Did she ever leave?

She sipped the broth first, sputtered, then asserted herself and quaffed it in a few short gulps. It burned, though not to the point of pain. It shifted into a tingling bordering on numbing, warming as it slid down her throat and branched across her chest.

She stepped over to the pool, backing out of her shoes. The water—if it was that—was an impenetrable black. She dipped a toe past the lip. It was the same temperature as her, lukewarm, and had a consistency slightly thicker than water. She eased her feet in. It was ankle-deep, with a shallow dip in the center that might have gone part way up her shins at best.

She lowered herself onto her hip. The broth affected her balance, putting torpor in her limbs—the room had smudged at the edges like charcoal—so she gripped the outer rim of the pool. It looked like she was being swallowed, no longer able to make out her lower half. Nepenthe and Athalia knelt on either side of her.

“Lie down,” Athalia said, more gently now. “Spread your arms and legs.”

Vierna did. It would have been easy to float—her body was weightless—but she refused to let go of the edge, her fingers hooked. If she let go, she would fall, and she didn’t know how far or what waited at the bottom.

“Let go,” Nepenthe urged, her voice a whisper. 

Vierna lowered the back of her head into the liquid. The second she did, the noise from the room was snuffed. Underwater had sound, but even that was gone—no burble of bubbles or murmur of the flow against her ears. Her chemise and hair eddied around her.

She released the edge. It didn’t feel like she was in water, but suspended in air. She wasn’t falling at all.

Nepenthe and Athalia faded from view. The rutilant gems in Lolth’s effigy were the last thing she saw, burning at a low glow. The stone spider-legs wrapping the pool above her were like an embrace—or a cage. She couldn’t decide which.

She wondered if this was what it was like to die without pain, the only way she had ever wanted to die.

—

Losing consciousness had been a lazy drift down a river, but she came to with a jolt like she’d been dropped in a glacial-fed lake. She was lying on cold, hard rock. There was no difference between her eyes being open or closed, so much that she was frightened she’d gone blind. The darkness was absolute. It reminded her of parts of Ruhn-Shak, ruins consumed by writhing shadows. Maybe she had never left after all and the Chained Oblivion was toying with her. Maybe Dumaran was a place of non-existent hope she’d dreamt up out of desperation.

She had her body, though. She groped her way onto her hands and knees. Gradually, silhouettes appeared in the gloom. A cavern gaped around her, the ceiling far out of sight. Pendulous strings of web arced between each other and the walls like banners, noticeable only by the pearly sheen whenever they caught an unseen source of light.

There was a massive entrance—exit?—both in front and behind her. She had no sense of how deep she was; she could have been in any tunnel in the Underdark. No—she’d gone beyond the Underdark and entered the Abyss itself. She was in the Dreadnest.

“Oh, Vierna. My heart sings to see you.”

Vierna snapped her head in the direction of the voice—because it did have direction, coming from the maw of the cave in front of her. A set of eyes opened, the same carmine-red she had passed out under. Then a second. And third. And fourth. Column-thick spider-legs unfurled from the hole, and Lolth emerged.

Vierna had always been tall for a drow, but she was utterly cowed by Lolth. In simple terms, she was a drider—a black spider below the waist with a woman’s body riding on top. Except in addition to her spider appendages, eight humanoid arms branched out of an extended torso. She was layered in a chitinous armour and topped with a heavy, jagged crown. Bone-white hair drifted endlessly into the darkness, seeming to join with her webs.

Vierna felt like her eyes deceived her, but she didn’t want to rub them. Staring without blinking, Lolth’s proportions seemed a little too long, a facsimile of humanity. There were darts of movement on her armour—spiders that, for Lolth, were small, but must have been the size of Vierna’s head. There were an untold amount of eyes on her.

Lolth beamed as she approached, her canines a set of thin, lengthy fangs. Her lips were peeled back over her teeth—it wasn’t a welcoming smile, but a possessive, predatory one. Vierna was frozen to the spot.  

“Come, now,” Lolth cooed, and two middle arms reached for her, plucking Vierna off the floor and setting her on her feet. She didn’t let go straight away, helping Vierna find her balance. Vierna was too stunned to resist. “Poor thing, that’s better.”

Her voice wasn’t what Vierna expected. It was befitting of a queen, regal and mellifluous, wafting to her sweetly and wrapping around her like a shawl of silk. She could see it being as intoxicating as wine, meant to win her over in slow swallows rather than all at once. But then, what had she expected?

Lolth dusted off Vierna’s shift with two other hands and then another took a tress of Vierna’s blanched hair, letting it cascade through her fingers. “Your hair used to be dark, didn’t it? And your magic so much more potent.” All hands left at once, but her face blocked the space in front of her in a sudden snarl. Her eight eyes made it difficult to focus, like Vierna’s vision had quadrupled. “Tharizdun will pay for what its done.”

Vierna croaked, then clutched her throat. The words were still clogged up there.

“Hmm.” One of Lolth’s primary hands came to hover in front of Vierna’s throat. A tapered nail strummed at an unseen tension. She tugged, and something snapped—Vierna gasped, words rushing in.

“Is this real?” she panted.

Lolth chuckled, and it echoed above and behind Vierna, skittering away. The webs and Lolth’s hair shivered around them. “I’m very real. But this—“ she flicked a set of fingers to her den, “—is only real insofar as visions are. You’re not truly in the Dreadnest. I’ve woven this space in your mind as an in-between. You opened the door—I stepped inside.”

Vierna wondered if a simple yes or no would have sufficed.

Lolth’s chuckle raised into a cackle that made Vierna jump. “Oh, but you know things are rarely that simple! A yes or no wouldn’t have satisfied you. Don’t pretend I don’t know you, Vierna.”

So none of her thoughts were private and belonged to her here. Lolth’s smile endured, as if agreeing, but it was logical—Vierna submitted herself to her. They were connected.

“Why did you wish to see me?” Vierna asked.

Lolth drew away. “To help you, my sweet. I despise the Chained Oblivion—I take hope through you that not all is lost. Where the Luxon conceals my children in a light I cannot see into, the Chained Oblivion does the same with a darkness I cannot penetrate. I should be the ruler of darkness, I was banished from the surface—and yet.”

There was a quivering anger under her words that spoke of a loathing that was as ancient and immortal as she was.

“Am I cured, then?” Vierna ventured.

Lolth gave a slow shake of her head. “Not fully. I've done more than a greater restoration can do, but I can still see the Chained Oblivion’s…mark, in you. But you’re where you belong, closer to me; the more time passes here, the more its influence will erode. You will be yourself again.”

“Will I?” Doubt clouded her voice.

“I've been watching you for longer than you know, Vierna.” Lolth’s hands clasped in front of her, then expanded, and like a cat’s cradle strung to her fingers, a web formed between them. “I can trace your bloodline back—families are webs to me as much as they are trees to others.” Little flecks filed along the strands, in and out, expanding and spiralling. “You’ve travelled so very far. You have always struck first. You’re accomplished; where others would squander their gift of magic, you use creativity and resilience to not just survive, but elevate yourself. My Children of Malice need that.”

She closed the web with a booming clap. “I see an auspicious future for you, Vierna. I want to help you get closer to it, to who you’re meant to be.”

“I—” Vierna swallowed, clutching the words, hoping to make them stick. It wasn’t lost on her what Lolth’s blessing meant, how many would have killed for it in Tal’dorei. Above all, she was grateful to be closer to being free of Tharizdun. She bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Lolth leaned in again and tipped Vierna’s face up. The back of another hand caressed her cheek. Lolth’s skin was marble smooth, but her knuckles were bony and her touch was chilly. “I cannot stay—occupying your mind puts stress on the body. But fear not, for I’m never far, and we’ll speak again.”

Two fingers closed her eyes.

Vierna thrashed awake, flinging water. She tasted salt, then bile as she bent over and vomited violently onto the cobblestone. It was a torrent of black goo and whatever broth she’d consumed before. She heaved until she was empty and nothing but spittle and acid drooled out—it was then she noticed someone rubbing soft circles into her back, and another keeping wet hair away from her face. The palm between her shoulder blades belonged to Nepenthe, thicker, and the one holding her hair was Athalia.

Lolth was right—she wasn’t fully free, and would likely never be the same again, but it felt like several more fingers had been prised from the hand around her throat.

“Welcome home, sister,” Athalia whispered.

[effelants]

Not so much "tagged by" as "inspired by" @anderstrevelyan to participate in WIP Wednesday this week! Have an excerpt from an unnamed short (?) piece featuring Vierna and Valas in the Shadow Cursed Lands, saving the life of a certain Rolan "LOML" Baldursgate.

And then being a little bit rude about it, because, y'know... Vierna.

Tagging this randomly selected group of people I found in my notes and mentions or who otherwise came to mind that I adore and who are not obligated to participate, but may, should they wish!

@theluckywizard @dreadfutures @agentkatie @crackinglamb @northern-penny @mxanigel @inquisimer @oxygenforthewicked @warpedlegacywrites @lark-of-mirkwood

And also tagging... you! Yes, you, you wonderful, amazing, creative, gorgeous person! Are you reading this and want to share for WIP Wednesday? Please consider yourself tagged! I'd be honored if you'd share something you're working on and tagged me in the post, so that I can see it and enjoy your work! ♥

[anderstrevelyan]

Word day, word day, word day!

Today I have an offering from my shared canon with @effelants (yes, Valas takes up so much of my brain he gets two worldstates), from the night Valas first kisses Vierna (and yes, they're not each other's endgame romance because they're awful for each other romantically, but! VALAS/VIERNA IS A THING).

(Valas is my Durge, Vierna is Effe's Tav) (wow this is a lot of brackets)

(act 1 dark urge spoilers, plus dark urge point of view, he's not the most wholesome)

“You did it for peace, not for blood. It was brave.” It was beautiful, he doesn’t say. He can still feel her doubt: at the shallow words of a killer, trying to convince her she’s something he’s not.

But maybe they are the same, some small part of him thinks, as he stares down at her in the dark. If this is how she feels—if this is how he felt, tearing his eyes from the blood bathing Alfira’s torn corpse—that slivered spark of good she seems to see in him might just be real. “But what I’ve found helpful, myself,” he says, reaching to brush a drying piece of Glut’s flesh from her cheek with his thumb, “is knowing there’s someone I can talk to. Knowing I’m not alone.” He lets his hand linger, a few moments, breath in and breath out, as he looks for something like permission—the way her lips part, the quick glance she gives his own—before he closes the distance with violent want. She makes a noise of surprise, then a hunger of her own, as they stumble back towards the stone, his hands firmly cupping her chin, grasping her waist, hers softly in his hair, and he loses himself in her mouth, the way she moves against him as he takes one wrist and pins her to the wall. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, kissing her, but when he pulls away he sees her lipstick spread dark across her face, can tell from the amused glint in her eye that it must also coat his own. Like blood, some forgotten thought whispers: exultant, breath fast, a taste like no other. But he quite likes shared breath, too, and he leans in to take more.

Tagging @potatowitch @sulky-valkyrie @poetikat @milesmentis @spindleweedss @my-dumb-obsessions @mxanigel @mxkelsifer and yes @effelants you too! As well as anyone else who sees this and wants to share—I'd love to see what you're working on. (And here's the post to be added/removed from the list for future shares.)

[lawful-evil-novelist]

Through Shadow (BG3 Fic) Playlist 10: Vierna

[rukafais]

Also genuinely I could write essays about like, the reasons sexual violence is such a constant theme in Drizzt specifically and always has been and is about what lack of meaningful consent does to a society, about how sexual assault is not some Accident or something that you get carried away with it and go "oops lol! didn't mean it!" it is a specific abuse, a specific decision, and a specific way to forcibly establish power over someone else. Drizzt is explicitly traumatized by his near miss to the point it haunts him a hundred years later AND he goes "oh, no, i can't possibly relate to this other person, who was ACTUALLY sexually assaulted, she had it worse." Vierna is traumatized by what she was forced into and she just goes "well uhhhh you dont have to like it just whiteknuckle through it everybody wants you to. it's the Right Thing To Do." Zak has a whole plethora of problems we wont' go into here. Dinin is never explicitly assaulted on screen but BOY HE HAS THIS ISSUE IN SPADES. LIST GOES ON.

so the fact that a lot of people write it off as gratuitous or edgy and therefore extraneous to the plot and saying nothing is going to Drive Me Up A Fucking Wall Actually

[everybodyloveshippos]

me: hi when are you going to write a book about vierna and dinins time with bregan daerthe and vierna’s subsequent descent into madness and obsession and can i consult on it

bob salvatore: how did you get in my house

[peppymint1986]

Those of you who follow my writing are probably aware my annual writing event has flopped this year.  Boo for writer’s block.  I am going to try and combat this by branching out and writing one-shots for some new fandoms.  Well, new writing fandoms, I have been a fan of the Legend of Drizzt for a long time.

Inspired by Merfilly.  Specifically their series Different Paths but this could be any au where Drizzt ends up unexpectedly on the surface.  

Volte-face

Jarlaxle made no indication he knew he was no longer alone.  It was impossible to say what it was that had tipped him off exactly.  He did not hear or see anything to indicate something was amiss.  None of the sentries had signaled an alarm.  

Regardless, the drow hadn’t lasted this long in Menzoberranzan by mistrusting his instincts.  There.  Jarlaxle spun, dagger dropping smoothly into his hand.  Only managing to alter its course at the last possible moment before it left his fingers.    

Thud.  

The other drow didn’t even flinch.  Unbothered by the knife quivering in the wall just inches from his neck.  

The same could not be said for Jarlaxle.  “Zak,” he hissed, striding across the room, heels practically striking sparks.  His features were twisted in anger.  That had been far too close.  However, as he approached his friend the anger quickly gave way to concern.  “Zaknafein?”

“I thought I was ready,” Zaknafein said, face still unnervingly blank.  Though his daughter still breathed, Vierna had been lost to him long ago.  “I thought I was prepared to lose him.”  He had even tried to take the matter into his own hands once, thinking it was better for his dancer to die as himself.  He hadn’t been able to do it.  

Frowning, Jarlaxle took another step forward, now close enough to touch his friend.  “Drizzt?” he questioned softly.  As far as he knew, there was no other whose fate would affect Zakanfein like this.

“The raiding party returned without him.”  The weapons master had not stayed to hear the details.  It didn’t really matter.  All that mattered was his son was gone.  

“I’m sorry Zak.”

The weapons master stiffened at the first touch of a comforting hand on his shoulder.  Then he shuddered, before turning to bury his face in Jarlaxle’s colorfully clad shoulder.  Paying no mind to the arm that wrapped around his shoulders in return, or the way the fabric beneath his eyes was growing damp.  “I’m done Jarlaxle.”

The mercenary felt his heart skip a beat.  Surely the other didn’t mean . . .

“Take me from this place.”

And just like that, the world resumed its spin.  “Of course.”  

He had urged Zaknafein to leave House Do'urden many times, but the other drow had always refused.  Jarlaxle should have been thrilled at his friend’s request.  But somehow, seeing his friend’s grief, he could not help but grieve with him for a life cut far too short.

Poor Zak.  But unlike him, we know Drizzt is alive so there would eventually be a happy ending.  No guarantee I will write it though.  No guarantee I won’t either.  We’ll see. 

[chaoticcomposition]

May I hear all about Nepenthe 👀

omg sure, I'm still working on her & need to discuss how she works with the dms, but I can give you what I have! idk how much you know about matt's exandria setting, but that's where she's from and it informs her story

if anyone ever wants more in-depth stuff that isn't art, I do have a writing sideblog where I put most of my character things, including shitposts

(warning for below the cut: there's a picture of a tarantula at the bottom)

one of the tenets of lolth is ‘it’s better to be loved than feared but you can certainly try to be both’ and she definitely tries to embody that. she trusts her community implicitly and while they may not have her best interests at heart she’s willing to be self-sacrificing if it serves a greater purpose

to bullet point it:

she’s bi, 377, 5′8″, neutral evil. I might tweak one of the existing paladin oaths b/c none of the them fit her exactly. a friend also found one called ‘oath of webs’

personality-wise she’s pretty amiable? very social, encouraging, a good team-player, enjoys card games and communal activities. she prefers to be straightforward where she can, it’s unlikely she’ll stab you in the back but rather the front. she's not the person you send to be a spy or assassin

she's from a surface culture of warriors (the many hosts of igrathad) that's a series of villages always fighting each other. the kryn dynasty (good drow) step in like "stoppit" and the many hosts don't love this, b/c they love to solve things by fighting. her parents however embrace the peace and worship the luxon (mysterious light god who's essence is broken up into beacons)

nepenthe's older sibling (she’s the 2nd oldest of 5) is sent to fight in a war for the kryn who brought them "peace" and disappears. nepenthe is furious, thinks her parents are soft-spined

children of malice (followers of lolth) latch onto this since they're sneaking around the many hosts and convince her to join their cult b/c that's what cultists do

she moves to dumaran (children of malice settlement that's a buncha tunnels) & becomes a paladin of lolth, makes some hobgoblin buddies & has a hobgoblin mentor

they discover the kryn dynasty are sending people to the underdark beneath tal'dorei (different continent) to recruit drow & search for more beacons. children of malice want in on that, but for lolth

she's sent across the world w a team to do this, they find vierna. she's a hot mess but not beyond help. she’s one of a few survivors where she lives cuz the chained oblivion is tearing them apart, lisa

they take her home, show her the way back to lolth. they fall in love, they have a baby (nepenthe carried), they're good parents! vierna proves herself ruthless & imaginative and claws her way up in status

but vierna is like a cold-blooded scientist and is like "ok you have this reservoir of lolth's blood you're guarding, why not use it." lolth's blood is what turns drow into driders in this universe. she works up an antivenom that can revert driders back into their original form but the process is taxing and painful. the person also has to want to change back

after a few initial tests the leaders are like "this is going great, and since you're so confident in it, we should use nepenthe :^)"

they do that, nepenthe is a sometimes-drider now 🕷

unfortunately with great power comes a steep price—the transformations are changing her body over time, and she might eventually succumb to wanting to be a drider all the time. lolth's blood is addicting and driders can go mad from the thirst (I'm sure there are driders who have found ways around this, but for the purpose of this story they haven't met them)

oh great now their daughter's run away b/c she's been manipulated by the archeart!! (parallel to nepenthe running away from her family hehehe) and the cult is like "omg bring her back it's v important you do" & nepenthe is like "you don't need to tell me twice"

their daughter is 66, they kind of infantilize her. they don’t realize she made the decision herself to leave

vierna’s like panic-trying to concoct a way to make sure nepenthe doesn't lose her mind. nepenthe has a strong will but she’s not infallible, especially since it’s a slow erosion

she also has a pet giant spider named cookie who stays behind in dumaran to keep vierna company and eat house intruders. she looks like this:

tl;dr she's a sometimes drider b/c her wife made an antivenom to lolth's blood but it's imperfect and she's changing over time. her fate can be pulled in one of many directions but her main goal is to find her daughter & bring her home safe

I didn’t realize I had so much but thank you for the ask and if you made it this far, hats off to you!!

[sharpestasp]

Hey Unrehearsed Patterns on A03 here. By any chance did either you or your partner ever stat out Vierna or Zaknafein? I’ve only discovered class and level in any official material not even ability scores.

We had found a homebrew site we used during writing for To Steal a Priestess. It has been taken down.

[dread-red-queen]

Drew a scene from our DnD game few episode's back, my character Tahlia the red tiefling has a set of magic mirrors, she has one and her lover who owns the tavern the party is based at has the other, when the party is away she likes to check in using the mirror, sometimes to write notes backwoods to hold up to the mirror for him to read as the mirror doesn't broadcast sound

long story short with him being a tease he had propped the mirror up on his bedstand while he went for a bath one evening, Tahlia had looked into the mirror with another member of the party Vierna our lovely Drow warlock to try and show a note messege to warn him about a Boneclaw (its complicated) and needless to say Gunther gave them an eyeful as he walked out of the bathroom

haha he did drop the towel in shock when he saw not only his GF but Vierna looking at him from the mirror, but I didn't draw that bit haha I enjoy some spice as much as the next person but I try to keep it PG on here lol

however im ok with drawing spicy for commissions which are open by the way *waggles eyebrows* haha I do mostly Twitch stuff like emotes, cam borders ect but My real passion is the Dnd Character Portraits, Tokens and homebrew item illustration lol anyway hope you like lol

Check out our dnd on twitch

Check put our back catalogue of episodes on YouTube

[iironwreath]

Keloid [Vierna]

Vierna helped Nepenthe remove her armour when she returned to Dumaran. It had started from a place of intimacy, but now, Vierna wanted to catalogue changes to her wife’s body. Each fighter who used Lolth’s blood had unique experiences. With the others it was a matter of pragmatism and collecting raw, empirical data—with Nepenthe, it was rooted in concern, pointing her towards her next target like a compass.

Nepenthe allowed her this without comment or complaint. It didn’t feel like she was indulging Vierna so much as she understood Vierna and her need to do it.

Nepenthe sat in front of her, all of her hard, layered plates removed. Vierna unlooped the knots of Nepenthe’s arming jacket, sliding it off from behind and baring Nepenthe’s arms and torso to the chamber. Her hair was still swept up in a ponytail, and Vierna thumbed the short, crisp hairs at the back of her neck. She hung the garment and returned to her inspection.

Her memory of Nepenthe’s body was both mental and physical. Vierna would always run her fingers over Nepenthe’s tattoos, tracing refined muscle and ink. There was comfort in familiarity, the worn-in, but something distracted her—there was a new scar at the peak of her right deltoid. She set her fingers at the top of it. It was a pale, thin river, raised into a faint keloid. It flowed down and vanished into her tattoos.

“What is this from?” Vierna asked, sharper than she meant. She was protective—angry that someone could have landed a blow. Nepenthe’s pauldrons generally shielded her from harm.

Nepenthe hummed, turning her head but stopping part way. “Is it symmetrical?”

Vierna leaned left. Her blood went cold, dread cutting into her like broken shards of ice. She traced a twin scar. Nepenthe could have checked, sounded like she knew the answer from her question, but had chosen to let Vierna find it.

“Yes.”

“Might be chitin,” Nepenthe said. “I can’t see my bare shoulders while I’m in my armour, and that’s the only time I’m really a drider, but I’ve felt more…fortified, than usual. I think it was itchy, but there are a lot of sensations happening and I’m more focused on fighting.”

Chitin that disappeared when she reverted to her humanoid form, then, like the added rows of eyes on her forehead. Vierna smoothed her palms across Nepenthe’s skin, focusing on her upper back and the outside of her arms. They were naked to the eye on the tattoos, but her skin was raised in more fine lines like a field of hills. There was a pattern to them, something that, put together, would have looked elegant and purposeful rather than haphazard.

“Chitin,” Vierna repeated, squeezing Nepenthe’s traps for balance. She wished she knew more driders who had made the change permanent—or had their bodies. But driders were unpredictable, in her experience. 

Back in Tal’dorei, nobody would have blinked if she’d asked for a dead one to study. In Dumaran, they were considered esteemed, even if they did guard Lolth’s blood from them. A request like that likely wouldn’t be met with any enthusiasm.

Maybe if they killed one out of necessity, then gave them to her…

Nepenthe cupped the top of Vierna’s wrists and drew her arms over her shoulders, folding Vierna into an embrace of her. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like them?”

Vierna stiffened, despite Nepenthe’s touch. She pressed her chest to her back, hoping to sponge up some of Nepenthe’s confidence and nonchalance. “Your scars have always made you handsome, but they do remind me that you’re infallible. They’re inflicted by someone wanting to do you harm.”

“Not these,” Nepenthe said. “These are different. Good, even; chitin protects. Nobody’s inflicted them on me.”

Lolth has, Vierna thought, unbidden. Or I have.

[effelants]

So I was tagged and otherwise called upon by @anderstrevelyan to share a WIP Wednesday today, and, considering the theme of Elena's wippie for the day, let me present my own humble contribution:

Vierna's thoughts about kissing Valas, or, more specifically, part of the Vierna POV of the first kiss scene shared by Elena as her wippie for the day.

It's excellent, by the way, you should go read it here (and also scream with me about how great V&V are).

Okay, that was enough being normal out of me, so now let me say what I actually want to say about this excerpt and also Elena's excerpt (seriously, go read it):

GHHHHHHH I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS SO MANY FEELINGS GHHGHGDHJGJHDGHJHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAA I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS SO MANY FEELINGS AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Krhm. Anyway. Tagging some people from my notes and that otherwise came to mind to also share what they're working on, if they'd like to (no pressure, though, and let me know if you don't want to get tagged in these going forward, and I'll stop!):

@inquisimer @agentkatie @dreadfutures @crackinglamb @briarfox13 @kirkwallgremlin @breninarthur @laurelsofhighever

And also tagging… you! Yes, you, you wonderful, amazing, creative, gorgeous person! Are you reading this and want to share for WIP Wednesday? Please consider yourself tagged! I’d be honored if you’d share something you’re working on and tagged me in the post, so that I can see it and enjoy your work! ♥

[isnt-it-pretty]

I have a lot of feelings about Zaknafein

[lawful-evil-novelist]

I'm thinking way later in the Therapy AU timeline like to points I probably won't write and like.

I'm genuinely wondering if Drizzt would spiral as hard as he did in the Neverwinter Saga with his family there.

Also genuinely wondering how far Dahlia would've gotten given I know for a fact the instinct of the Nalfein and Vierna when they get Bad Vibes™ is to immediately close ranks around whichever sibling is making Bad Choices™.

[wizard-babie]

Taking a break from drawing (by drawing lol)

This is my rendition of one of the backstory NPCs for one of our party members!

Still unnamed, here’s the current queen consort of Gaegen Vos, an opposing kingdom of Viernas Magan (where our party member, Makhor Marwolaeth, hails from).

An unnerving, perpetually-disappointed and narcissistic elven woman, she is the birth mother of our favorite NPCs, Yesenia Vatore and Rohan Vatore (yes, the paladin).

Yes, I know, I’m lore dumping here without giving context so I’m probs gonna post an introduction on our party and stuff (hooray!)

Alsooo, I’m rambling on here but my friends and I are making this *totally* awesome story revolving the party (double hooray!) and we’re currently writing lore and backstories! So thank you all for bearing with me and hope you hop onto my blog to know about our party members soon!

✌️peace out✌️

[everybodyloveshippos]

‘tie in book’ oh right i can write fanfiction,, lol. also it was never clear to me whether vierna was taken in by house baenre, bregan daerthe, or was just houseless and semi-connected to both (given her gaining lolth’s favour and connecting with triel)