KINGLY.

With every kill I gain wisdom, And with added wisdom I gain power. Artemis Entreri. master assassin & king of Calimport.

[calimeze]

hey guys! sorry i’ve been m.i.a. summer classes started up and it’s going to be like four weeks of hell from here on out. additionally, i’ve been putting a bit more focus into this muse so always feel free to come check it out and hit me up over there! i am sure i’ll get to my replies on this account soon enough!

[calimeze]

                                                    language.

     Entreri is multi-lingual, for all intents and purposes. He is aware of Common Tongue (English in our world), naturally, given that Calimport is a port of heavy trade, as Memnon formerly was. He has additionally maintained the local dialects of Calimic, similar to Arabic in our world. This is evident in Servant of the Shard as well as Road of the Patriarch, mostly by his and Jarlaxle’s confrontations with desert raiders, etc, where Entreri would casually translate their threats, often to sarcastic effect. Of course, he employs this language nearly as much as Common, usually to communicate effectively with informants and merchants of the city he resides in for a majority of his life.

     Upon having to learn Drowish, it may have potentially been a mild challenge given how technically late in the game he began to pick up an entirely new language -- but it is clear in the books that he has the most difficulties with their form of sign language. Mostly it was simply the matter of recalling exact, minute details of his hand movements and positioning to the meaning. (I.e. in ASL, hungry vs. horny or thirsty vs. lust.)       However, he retains his knowledge of Drowish simply to keep it to good potential use in the future, not out of any real need should he be able to stay away from Dark Elf societies and parties. He really holds no plans in keeping up with Drow hand signs, however.

[calimeze]

Is there anyone alive who you would not kill?

question spam – accepting

“Not wanting to kill and knowing better than to kill someone are two very different things.”

[calimeze]

My one friend 'ere says you must be a shade. My other says you look like a walking corpse, what with that ashy skin of yours. Which is it, eh? I bet ten gold that they're both a straw short of a hay bale and you're just some poor bloke in need of a bath in the sun. What do you say, stranger, are you really a spirit or a dead man walking?

question spam – accepting

Oh, how his palm itched to seize his dagger and drive it between this stranger’s ribs. Perhaps then he could’ve given an honest answer. Entreri only gave a wide smile, one that was hardly genuine, a gleam of wicked amusement apparent in his eyes.“Neither.”

[calimeze]

How would you define weakness of character?

question spam – accepting 

“That would be to let your emotions control your actions and guide your objective. Any sense of higher goodliness or loyalty to those labeled as friends is a mistake.”

[horrorgorewhore]

[calimeze]

How would you define strength of character?

question spam – accepting 

“Discipline is key. A true warrior is one who will not let emotion, desire, or the idea of conscience distract them from their objective.”

[calimeze]

You wear anything other than dreary old black, mister? Why don't you try something in white or gold... it'll make you look more /alive/!

question spam – accepting

“I assure you -- liveliness is perhaps one of the last things I deal with. I am more one who handles the end of it.”

[calimeze]

Would you kill that dirty old lecher over there for two silvers and my gratitude?

question spam – accepting

“Two silvers and your gratitude is hardly enough to make it my business.”

[sass-queen-vastia]

Anon on or off, spam my inbox with questions for my muse.

[calimeze]

hey friends i might be a grumpy assassin here on tumblr but tbh i see posts from you guys talking about your day and i fucking love that shit

i’m so glad you had a good and productive day despite the downfalls i’m so glad you’re getting through your work i’m so glad you’re reaching milestones

and if your day was bad?? my inbox is open i’m here for you and if you don’t come to me, then there’s a solid 50/50 chance i’m gonna go to you

[imnotacleverman]

This guy.

[calimeze]

silvicola-comitessa liked this for a starter.

     The sky echoed outside his sentiments, dark and raging with rolls of thunder, though he had yet to experience any moisture to cascade from the clouds that filled the horizon. Rain was perhaps one of his least favorite forms of weather patterns. The assassin was in no rush, knowing that his road ahead of him, his objective, wouldn’t be washed away with the downpour that the ominous clouds threatened. Patience was something he knew he was lacking -- but knowing when to wait out a very real storm was another.

     Whispers carried to his ears, hushed tones fearfully discussing the stranger in the corner who glowered at curious individuals to ward their interests away. Himself. He was a stranger to this place, the city and land alike, but he was no stranger to distrust.      Yet interestingly, the conversation course surrounding him had diverted to a new subject to speak in quiet murmurings, betraying not only their distrust but apparent hatred of the individual who had arrived.

     The woman before him had skin like alabaster, evocative of classic, grand sculptures that he rarely had laid eyes upon, her figure possessed of more grace than perhaps any other member of the opposite sex, though lacking a blade to suit his personal interests. Suddenly, the wine he had been slowly nursing for the night seemed bitter and dry.       She had dismissed their words with a look that might be described of disdainful, but Entreri could see that she held equally no love of the other patrons as they did for her. The woman remained solitary, seemingly having taken shelter from the skies above as similar to himself. This was his opportunity, knowing that there was the chance of kinship in being outcasts to gain information rather than to learn anything from the tightly-knitted, suffocating community already present.

     With that, the Calim assassin rose, footsteps light but pronounced, black cloak covering his form -- and subsequently his weapons -- as it fell about him, billowing with each step and movement. He stopped, a respectful distance from the woman, body giving a small, smooth bow.

     “May I join you?”

[calimeze]

[calimeze]

trying to convince my friend to remake jarlaxle more like ‘hey his url could be fancifulfuckboy think about it’

[tarkalicious-deactivated2015081]

Tarkan. By Giuliano Bekor.

[calimeze]

demonwrestler liked this for a starter.

     It was nearing dusk, and even he could sense the crowd’s unrest -- for such an area considered as a safe haven, a refuge from the dangers of the road, he doubted that people were terrified at the rise of the moon. Nay, it was something else, something the assassin had yet to place his thumb upon.      But then he caught it out of the corner of his eye from beneath his cowl. People were afraid of someone, and it wasn’t his own presence as the source of discomfort. He watched a mother corral her child closely, as well as men tense, ready to spring into action.

     This small town seemed to know a tiefling, even when they were simply passing through the market.      Artemis smirked despite himself, somehow amused by the fact, for simple-minded folk would rather listen to tall tales spun by bards than the fact that everyone present had the ability of choice. Perhaps he was the only one who wasn’t openly fearful or with his hands resting upon his blades, ready to draw, but his guard remained up nonetheless.

     Yet as murmurs rose through the crowd, he could sense it would soon build into a great climax of civil unrest, which would do no good in helping him keep tabs upon his latest informant should the crowd melt into a panicked frenzy. Once again, his sharp gaze landed upon the tall individual before he turned, scanning the rest of the street. Just a well-placed bump upon a heavily armored guard was surprisingly easy to see him jerk about, shoving the nearest man and accusing him of trying to pickpocket him. But of course, Artemis had slipped away from that scene by then, watching his handiwork as the crowd began to become more attracted to the unfolding fight than the horned individual.

     It was no complex task to approach the other from the side, staying a respectful -- and pragmatic -- distance from the outsider, raising his voice enough so only the tiefling could overhear him.

     “You would do well to take advantage of this opportunity to remove yourself from here, lest you wish to be running from an angry mob the rest of the evening.”