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Not one for fooling around with, clearly. He'd encountered multiple guards, knights, in the past, and to be quite frank, most of them were lacklustre, unimaginative. Plain boring. But, then again, he supposed their responsibilities and duties had sculpted them into these no-nonsense, pragmatic beings; they'd probably seen more terrors and witnessed one too many atrocities than the average civilian. Or maybe this guard just happened to be a sour grape.

'Well, I was obviously referring to myself, my good sir,' Luran quipped, enigmatically, mimicking the guard's stoicism. 'I am full of secrets — childhood trauma too, but that's besides the point.'

Despite his lighthearted demeanour, the elf had sought the guard out for a particular matter that required the resolute hand of a law enforcer...

'Glad you brought it up,' he stated seriously, dropping the frivolity. 'Someone has pickpocketed me. Granted, I resemble a royalty's treasury, but that still doesn't give some poor urchin or savage rogue the right to nick my belongings off of my person... Thus, I find myself in dire need of your aid...'

❛ people who grin usually have something to hide. ❜ -- For Tozen!

He stares at the other half elf with the most stoic expression, with a bit of annoyance in his grey eyes. "I have nothing to hide." The knight said plainly.

"Did you need something, bard, or did you just want to bother a guardsman?"

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[ Ooc: Next week, I have an introduction day at the school I'm having my internship at heh. So I'm going to meet all the other teachers. ]

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[ Ooc: So, I bought Utopia by Thomas More and The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli for more inspiration for my own books. And now I'll never unsee the fact that More was, in reality, deeply into world-building like any other fantasy/sci-fi writer. And the first sentence I read in The Prince's introduction was: "The Prince was written by a forty-four-year-old diplomat facing ruin." And my mind went: Luran. ]

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❝𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧❞ a collection of lines from the 2003 publication "poison" by chris wooding.

❛ some of us are born in the right place, and some of us have to go look for it. ❜

❛ don't feel hard done by. i go out of my way to hinder everyone. ❜

❛ i refuse to believe i'm hearing this. not from you! ❜

❛ what are you grinning about? ❜

❛ people who grin usually have something to hide. ❜

❛ why is it that people live here? ❜

❛ what's it like? out there? ❜

❛ put your jaw back together. you look like a snake trying to swallow an egg. ❜

❛ is it what you expected? ❜

❛ some of us are born in the right place, and some of us have to go look for it. ❜

❛ i seem to recall hiring you for a purpose. ❜

❛ if you weren't swindling me as we speak, i'd hug you. ❜

❛ what possessed you to try something like that anyway? ❜

❛ people don't know how to react if you don't do what they expect. it doesn't matter what you are, it's how you appear. ❜

❛ you can't go in there on your own! ❜

❛ i've always been good at riddles. ❜

❛ i'd try and change your mind, but i know you too well. ❜

❛ at least tell me why. since we'll never meet again, at least tell me why. ❜

❛ i'll come and find you when i return. ❜

❛ don't make promises you can't keep. ❜

❛ i've always been here, i think. i can remember anything before, anyway. ❜

❛ but you came in here to rescue me. why? you could have just taken the money you had and lived out the rest of your life happily.❜

❛ i just wanted them to die. they didn't have to make such a drama about it. ❜

❛ i'm here now. can't pretend i'm happy about it, but i made my choice. i knew where i'd end up when i came in after you. ❜

❛ time is not the same here. we might have already been gone a thousand years from home, and when we get back there won't be a thing we recognize. ❜

❛ that's a terrible thing to say. ❜

❛ you can laugh yourself insane, for all i care. ❜

❛ this is like an adventure, isn't it? ❜

❛ well, until you stop throwing yourself into these things like a fool, i suppose i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ the sooner i prove to you that this won't work, the better. ❜

❛ no wild idea goes urewarded. ❜

❛ are you done gawking? ❜

❛ everything's a story. it just depends on your point of view. ❜

❛ i've been thinking, and you're going to listen to what i have to say. ❜

❛ save your sympathy. i've heard your apologies before; i'm not interested. ❜

❛ have you seen what your principles are doing to us? ❜

❛ this one again? what a thorn you turned out to be. ❜

❛ you truly are a monstrous annoyance to me. ❜

❛ there has to be something we're missing. ❜

❛ say nothing of this. i will deal with it. ❜

❛ does anyone else know? ❜

❛ this is not part of the way of things, it is not part of life! it's only part of life because we let it be!. ❜

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[ Ooc: I wanted to write on here, but my book Wolf Hall is lying on my bed, tempting me to read instead. ]

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Well... that escalated rapidly. The subtle nuances of diplomacy appeared to be lost on this sorry excuse of an individual — his vagrant lifestyle was probably to blame... Naturally, the lack of a fundamental understanding of the other's culture and history, plus the accompanying misconceptions had marred this particular conversation. But be that as it may, Luran still clenched his jaws in aggravation and exchanged a brief look with the monarch who, despite the embarrassing backlash, was still eager to invite the stranger in. The advisor no longer shared a common interest... especially not after being referred to as a faerie and a traitor, a derogatory label assigned to all surface elves by some ridiculous, many-legged insect goddess and her devout worshippers.

'Pardon my nescience, my knowledge of drow and the inner workings of their pantheon isn't quite as comprehensive,' he countered composedly.

The audacity of this drow...

'We do, actually. Conversing with guests in the centre of my courtyard is in violation with protocol,' the king stated sternly, offering Rinnill an amicable smile regardless. 'Fret not, for you'll find we are more alike than you think, my friend. I have hunted many a beast, back in the day, and I can assure you, your tales shan't bore me.'

The monarch might still be optimistic about pursuing and establishing a friendly relationship with this drow, but Luran wasn't. The traveller's reluctance to humour them was quite plain — only a fool would endeavour to sway him still.

'At the very least, allow me to extend my hospitality and invite you to have dinner with me and my family,' the king added obligingly.

ᒥ🕷ᒧ—      "I can assure you the Spider Queen is no Goddess of mine, if that was so this meeting would go far different..." To have Lolth referred to as 'his' Spider Queen made his skin crawl and something akin to anger bubble in his gut. However, he was never one to act so rash. A simple mistake by the Surface Elves, their knowledge was limited by design of drow secrecy. "Faerie, Surface Elves, are often labeled darthiir by my kin. It means 'traitors'. To have a brush up with a Lolth serving drow would be a deadly encounter. They do not see the elves of the surface in a kind light."

He'd lay all those secrets bare to the two before him, Rinnill carried no love for his home or former Goddess. The only line he simply wouldn't cross is leading them to Menzoberranzan. Never would he return to the Underdark city. He'd have to be dragged kicking, biting, and screaming for that.

"If you'd prefer somewhere comfortable to sit, that is up to you. I have walked many miles a day for the last five decades, I do not tire as easily as one might assume." He had to be athletic as a ranger, after all. He might not have strength on his side, but he did have endurance. "The stories I have to tell of my time on the surface are not...grand nor noble. Many are of hunting beasts, I'm sure you'd find them quite repetitive and bore, your highness."

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[ Ooc: If you ever find yourself contemplating: mhm, should I abduct Luran or not? Then, the only right answer to that question is: yes, abduct him. ]

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[ Ooc: Would anyone like some memes from mah boi? ]

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The sheer lack of disquietude, of alarm — either profound or superficial — at his mentioning of the lands awaiting beyond this holy dungeon, drew his dark brows together in bewilderment. Perhaps this party had faced far more challenging encounters and had been in more abhorrent and dire situations than the atrocities and unpredictable paths they had yet to walk. Or maybe, their indifference was evidence to their ignorance...

At her request to submit to the impending interrogation, Luran placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head sarcastically, showing his willingness to cooperate with her.

'You have my word,' he promised, after all, he saw no harm in telling them everything he knew and had picked up whilst withering away amongst the True Soul scum...

He followed suit and while she informed him about their camp's placement, his blue eyes remained fixed to her. The only matter that did catch him off guard, was her hinting at cohabiting with werewolves and vampires. Admittedly, this did raise a number of concerns, but he opted not to vocalise them, especially since her flashing her teeth confirmed his freshly roused suspicions regarding her nature.

'I harbour no hostilities towards them, no,' Luran stated truthfully, but then again, he'd never crossed paths with either, therefore couldn't possibly imagine what living alongside them would be like — he suspected a lot of carnage was involved... 'Although, I must confess I'm only familiar with the literary variants — you know, the ones in writing, on a page... in a book. And to be quite frank, they seem rather... intriguing. And, I suppose, it sounds — er — like a fascinating premise for story. A poem, or a song...'

Luran wasn't certain where this Myconid's colony was located, for down here, he'd seen nought but the innards of an old, desecrated temple. He awkwardly cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back.

'Where exactly is this colony you mentioned earlier? And how far is it? from here to there...'

OF COURSE HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY GOLD. Katya had known the second she had asked the question that it was more than unlikely that he had nothing of worth on his person. After all, this journey had brought naught but thankless, miserable tasks, as of so far.

She was sure there was many more such tasks ahead as well.

Another miserable sigh left her at this thought.

"Fine, whatever. But you'll answer any question we got, got it? And do anythin' suspicious and I'll throw ya in the pits of lava myself," she grunted, already turning her back to start leading the way away from this miserably place that was sure to start stinking soon.

It already smelled bad down here, but with the amount of bodies now near such heat, it was only going to get worse, and her poor little nose would not stand such a slight.

She preferred her meals warm and fresh, after all. Not bloated and hot.

"We have a camp not too far from here. Somewhere near the Myconid's colony. Oh, I also hope you're cool with werewolves and vampires," she added, throwing a sharp toothed grin over her shoulder at the poor man before strutting ahead, kicking debris out of her way as she went.

No reason to put off the inevitable truth, he would find out sooner or later, and if he was going to make a run for it or act weird about it, she wanted to be able to sus him out first before they got to camp.

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Luran suppressed a roll of the eyes at the drow's ignorance concerning the inner workings of court, but for diplomatic purposes decided it best to digress. No one benefited from hostilities. Besides, there was no doubt the advisor was uninformed about certain inner workings of the drow and their complexities and aberrations. The differences between their species were too vast and numerous; ignorance was bound to be involved...

Both elves heard Rinnill's elaborations very carefully, remaining quiet while he orated. To be frank, the advisor was growing rather inquisitive about the particulars he dispensed, though he'd never venture out into those regions to pay a visit to the mercenaries or House Baerne. Whoever they might be, they sounded dangerous and he wasn't one who derived pleasure from jeopardising his life by embarking on daring and swashbuckling adventures... And he sincerely questioned those people were interested in becoming trade partners and allies.

'I can assure you, my dear sir, we seek no quarrels with your Spider Queen,' Luran said hastily, before the king could prise his mouth open and ejaculate another so-called jest, or worse, a quip dripping with a blasphemous affront... 'Nor was it our intention to coax you for information. However, we impart our gratitude to you for providing us the knowledge pertaining to who we must seek out to procure additional information from — should we so desire.'

'Indeed. We're merely being hospitable,' the monarch agreed, which was a statement that, in and of itself, could foster suspicion in their guest. 'After all, we don't see your kin here very often, and the opportunity to speak with your kind is too grand to pass up. That being said, my curiosity has been piqued by your tales, and I'd be delighted if you were to accompany me inside, and tell me more about your adventures. It may sound unorthodox, but I care not for unravelling drow State secrets and other such confidential affairs — and neither does my advisor.'

The king glanced up at him and grinned, as if proud of his display of excessive — and dare he say, feigned — innocence. Luran didn't reciprocate his grin — he had no idea what game the monarch was playing and thus, was determined to avoid participating in it.

'Precisely. And given your condition,' Luran began, vaguely gesturing to Rinnill's missing leg, 'I'd assume — and, please, do correct me if my assumption is erroneous — you might prefer to converse someplace that can accommodate you more adequately? We have several, exceedingly comfortable salons at our disposal for talks of this nature...'

ᒥ🕷ᒧ—      "Ah, my mistake." He shrugs gently. "My experience with nobles and the inner workings of a royal court are very little. House Ilystryph in Menzoberranzan was far from noble standing in the hierarchy." And he was thankful for such, as his family didn't have the resources to hunt him down for being a renegade.

He adjusted his weight against his crutch, feeling a sense of unease growing in his gut. "That is a kind offer, but I'd be more interested in knowing why I was summoned here, your highness. Is it knowledge you seek? I wouldn't assume it's my able body." He glances to his lack of his left leg from the knee down. He was more a hunter than a fighter, staying hidden in the shadows and plucking off his prey from a distance.

"You needn't win me over with generosity to gain knowledge on my former home. I do not seek fortune or luxuries; my information is free but comes with a warning. Those who trifle with the Spider Queen rarely survive, and if they do, they are changed." He was a prime example of such, escaping to the surface with a piece of him missing. "House Baerne alone rivals a kingdom with their power. Armies, mercenaries, and the Lolth's favor ensure the Matron Mother has incredible power to rule Menzoberranzan and all her Houses with an iron fist."

Rinnill looked to the pair before him, scarlet eyes haunted by unspoken memories of the Underdark city. "Your best chance of getting any secrets I simply wouldn't know as a commoner is to speak with the mercenaries of Bregan D'aerthe. Their price is quite high, as House Baenre pays for their services often with their own wealth."

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[ Ooc: I got my glasses today and damn, this is an improvement. Everything's HD now. My sight wasn't that bad, just a wee bit blurry, though my right eye was struggling a little. Colours are more vibrant too. :3 ]

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Rumour had spread among the Elves of a peculiar creature scampering through the vast forests and mountains near Rivendell. Neither Lord Elrond nor his rangers had managed to track the creature down and observe it from afar. However, it appeared the interloper was furtive, not an immediate threat to the people residing here. Nevertheless, they were warned to be on their guards — something Luran always was, whether the circumstances called for it or not. And, truth be told, he wouldn't have ventured up into the mountains if he hadn't spotted a bright speck of light among a boundless ocean of darkness that very night.

Despite being light of foot and generating barely to no sound walking, Luran had neglected to bear in mind that he wasn't invisible. Nor did his bright coloured attire blend in particularly well with the dark green and bark brown environment. Furthermore, treading on twigs and fallen leaves tended to orchestrate a cacophony of noises, announcing to the stranger that someone was approaching. He should've utilised the shadows of tree and shrubbery to his advantage, but had failed to do so, and thus, recognised the familiar glint of a sword's blade in the light of the fire. Shit.

The urge to draw his own sword and defend himself, should this confrontation come down to a fight, was irrepressible and his hands itched to seize his only form of protection, but he withheld himself from succumbing to fear. Regardless of every fibre of his being beseeching him to abandon his objective, he didn't want to start off on the foot. What if this was the creature Elrond and the others had tried to pursue?

The voice that spoke to him, permitting him repose and warmth if he harboured no malignant intentions, was gruff, not native to this world — or at least, these parts of the world. How odd...

'I don't endeavour to harm you,' Luran said softly, yet articulated his words very carefully, whilst trying to distinguish the stranger's appearance. 'I was merely inquisitive. I spotted your campfire from a glade several leagues below and was wondering who took shelter here... Are you lost?'

starter for @vicit-vim-virtus

The orc still did not know this world well, lingering in the shadows and looking for a clue as to why he had been sent here. With his green skin and white tusks, he didn't fit in here, that much he had already figured out. People didn't know someone like him. He towered over people in height and width. He covered his body with a brown poncho that covered him quite well, but that was all he could do. He could hunt here, which was why he didn't get too close to people, but he picked up rumors and things here and there that helped him along. The earth here was strange to him, but the elements still listened to him. That helped him get by here, but magic worked differently here. It was confusing for the shaman, but he accepted it. Somehow.

On one of the nights when he lit a small fire, on the edge of a mountain range to be at least partially protected (and a small cave at his back), he heard someone's footsteps before he saw the person. Even though he was a shaman, Thrall carried a sword. He grabbed it and watched the shadows. He could be recognized in the tongues of flame and it wasn't long before he spotted someone.

"If you want to sit by my fire and warm yourself, you can do so. Peacefully." Did the stranger understand him? His voice was deep and slightly rumbling, cloaked in a foreign accent.

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[ Ooc: The massive Luran energy this man has. ]

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@giaunt continued from [ x ]

Bright constellations began to take shape in the skies overhead, when at last, the ground beneath his feet rumbled like a minor earthquake, but the duration was ephemeral and no cause for alarm. Luran pivoted around his axis and regarded the giant, extending his patience. Naturally, he was tempted to subject the poor sod to a thorough interrogation, but given the obvious instability of both the stranger's movements and his reeling mind, the elf opted to be merciful and let the giant gather his thoughts and catch his breath, ground himself.

When big, round eyes finally fell upon him, Luran's grip on the apple intensified and he rested his empty hand on the hilt of his sheathed dagger. Not to threaten him — for he sincerely doubted he was adroit enough to challenge a person of the giant's stature —, but to exude an air of pompous supremacy, especially in the face of danger. He didn't want to come across as frightened or submissive; he was, after all, a representative of the royal family and the kingdom. He couldn't afford to show weakness. Not only would that be detrimental to his own reputation, but it'd also be false advertising; the kingdom was too powerful for its own good and he didn't want this creature to mistake his cowardly behaviour as a reflection of the rest of the kingdom's society and the king's stringent regime...

'Had I not intervened when I did, you would, most assuredly, have perished,' Luran stated matter-of-factly, prior to gesturing to the tree. 'I must say, your magic is quite remarkable. These apples look too perfect to be genuine, and had I not been educated with cautionary nursery rhymes pertaining to deceit and its myriads of colours and guises, I would've naively assumed this' — he raised the apple for dramatic emphasis — 'was safe to consume. Gullibility and undue credibility have caused many a diplomat their life, and I don't plan to tread in their footsteps... Therefore, I demand you do not seek to counsel me falsely and thus, speak truthfully: is this fruit edible, or will it deprive me of my life?'

A little dramatic, perchance, but he couldn't word it any other way. And without as much as a warning, the advisor drew his gold dagger and, diligently, cut a slice of the apple, but didn't venture to taste it. Not yet. He required confirmation first. And one more thing...

'Now, additionally, I feel obligated to inform you that my hospitality has its limits, and I kindly suggest you cooperate with me, for I'll ask this particular enquiry only once. What business have you in elven territory? What drove you hither?'

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Sleep was complicated, indeed. Despite their mutual suffering, Luran reciprocated her smile. Gods, when was the last time he'd properly rested? Had meditated undisturbed, no mysterious dream visitors haunting him in the deep crevices of his unconsciousness. It was hard, dare he say impossible, to recall, but the last time must've been back at Baldur's Gate, after performing a most magnificent, though enervating show. He yearned for those simpler times, and hoped he could return to the life he had, involuntarily, left behind...

'Sleep, perhaps, is the most unfathomable and insoluble puzzle of them all,' he joked — if only sleep were the sole problem that occupied his mind... 'Ah, too true. It would be my honour to perform one of my songs to you, someday. And the others, of course... If they're interested — wouldn't want to shove music and songs down their earholes if they abhor it. The last several days — weeks even? — have been torture enough.'

In all honesty, he hadn't performed for an audience ever since they were abducted and every fibre of his being longed for the admiration and attention that accompanied it. Perhaps soon. Perhaps they would find their answers at Moonrise, rid themselves of those horrid brain worms and continue living their lives, maybe not like nothing happened, but at least pick up where they left off.

Luran nodded in agreement — his sentiments precisely. What chance did they stand against an indomitable foe, if they couldn't even make amends and collaborate with the only people who could make a difference in this war? He was glad, and relieved, Shadowheart and Lae'zel had reached a truce, of sorts.

'We don't know and that is precisely what perturbs my mind after nightfall,' he said pensively, a frown stirred his brow. 'Perhaps the only upside to our unfortunate circumstances is that we're not facing it — the adversary, the endgame — alone...'

Shadowheart overthinks all the time now, and it's not just about the tadpole inside her brain. It's also because of Lady Shar and the mission she's supposed to accomplish for her Dark Lady. She knows her memories are gone so she can focus on the mission, but it's getting harder and harder these days. Shadowheart isn't even sure of why. The Nightsong... She doesn't even know what it is. But there's something inside her that doesn't want to destroy it without knowing why she should. And she knows Lady Shar won't accept it. Does it mean Shadowheart doesn't have as much fate in her goddess as she first thought ? She can't be sure. But she knows she's scared, deep down.

"Sleep is complicated, right ?" she teases, letting a chuckle escape her mouth before a glimpse of sadness floats on her lips. She's still smiling gently, though. She doesn't want to worry anyone with her concerns. No one can't change how she feels, anyway. "We're always harder on ourselves than we are on other people. I'm sure you write well. I'd love to hear some of your songs, someday." Shadowheart is pretty sure she enjoys music, even if she barely remembers it. It seems comforting in some ways, though. She just doesn't know why she feels this way about music. All of her life seems to be like this.

She shrugs, letting a playful smirk cross her lips. "Thank you. I mean... Lae'zel will surely never be my friend. But we're stronger if we remain united. All of us. Who knows what kind of threat we'll meet next ?" It's hard to say how this mess will end, but Shadowheart plans to survive. The artifact she stole is protecting them from becoming mindflayers, so there's at least that. They just need to find a way to deal with it once and for all, though.

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{{ Please reblog this if you’re a mun who’s open for angst plotting. Death, pain, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, illness, misery, fighting, screaming, tears, hate, disgust, trauma, graphic gore, etc; I’m in need of threads. Thank you. }}

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[ Ooc: I started playing The Sims Medieval and I'm having a BLAST. I'm creating my OC world and Luran's the king and I'm wheezing. He looks superb in his medieval costume and I love how posh everyone sounds. This is the BEST Sims game EVER. It's an RPG too like wtf, why didn't I look into this game before? Why did Patrick Stewart have to lure me to it? ]