THE LEGEND OF

[mantleofsacrifice-blog]

// also, blogroll of currently active blogs:

@mantleofsacrifice – Dragon Age OC, low muse, but serving as a hub until I get some other blogs into gear.

@kingofbastards – Alistair Theirin from Dragon Age: Origins, high muse, not really set up but roleplaying anyway.

@bodicebuster – Dragon Age OC blog soon to be repurposed for a different Dragon Age OC. (Dwarf rogue Inquisitor, probably.)

@accidentalnecrophilia – Pharaun Mizzrym from War of the Spider Queen, high muse, hasn’t been very active but likely to change.

@theweaponsmaster – Zaknafein Do’Urden from the Legend of Drizzt, low muse, but I wouldn’t call it inactive yet.

@drlzzt – Drizzt Do’Urden from the Legend of Drizzt, low muse and inactive lately, but likely to make a comeback.

[drlzzt-blog1]

// Ok, but you know what would be cute? A Once Upon a Dream scene, except instead of Prince Philip it’s a very confused drow ranger who happens upon the unwitting pretender.

[drlzzt-blog1]

sunshinedoomguide:

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” she had to say with a throaty chuckle, even if this was probably not the best time to be having this conversation. Still, nothing was springing out on them yet. and what other time would they have?

“It is easy for us to fear environments we are not used to, or that make us vulnerable,” she said. “I was taught that was what a shield is for - be that shield a companion, faith, or good steel,” she added with a wry smile and a shift of her own on her arm.

He nodded, lowering his gaze. Without even stopping to consider, he knew that his SCIMITARS were his shield, just as Zaknafein’s blades had been his. The warriors of the Do’Urden bloodline were a conscionable group in an unforgiving world; though Drizzt had no love of violence, he knew he would have been slaughtered a long time ago were it not for his skill in battle.

“My father taught me something similar.” He looked out toward the forest again, watching the rustling leaves for hints of movement beyond the breeze.

[drlzzt-blog1]

sunshinedoomguide:

“I felt the same about the night,” Iswen said quietly. As she was crouched in the middle of both, breath steaming up as the fog closed in around her, she could hear the muted whispers of things gone wrong, because a forest at night was only perfectly silent when everything else was afraid, too.

Drizzt smiled, peering out into the darkness. The night was most comfortable for him, and he frequently preferred to reverie during the brightest hours of the day. When he had first come to the surface, though, he had forced himself to watch the sun rise every morning. For hundreds of days he had repeated the routine-- ignoring the pain-- considering it his penance for the sins of his homeland.

“The night has never held any fear for me. In fact, it’s always been COMFORTING to me, like the weight of a cloak. Even after all these years, daylight still makes me feel exposed.”

[drlzzt-blog1]

“The forest used to frighten me, you know. Before I got used to its language.”

[chaoschained-blog]

                       "This is actually a form of mind-reading.                         You won’t be able to lie.“

                                                                              The Master of Sorcere chuckled.                                                          “Some people would say that so handicapped,                                                                                I won’t be able to speak at all.”

                              Pharaun Mizzrym from the War of the Spider Queen series

[chaoschained-blog]

                       "This is actually a form of mind-reading.                         You won’t be able to lie.“

                                                                              The Master of Sorcere chuckled.                                                          "Some people would say that so handicapped,                                                                                I won’t be able to speak at all.”

                              Pharaun Mizzrym from the War of the Spider Queen series

[luthienne]

You don’t want to hear the story of my life, and anyway I don’t want to tell it, I want to listen to the enormous waterfalls of the sun. And anyway it’s the same old story— a few people just trying, one way or another, to survive. Mostly, I want to be kind.

Mary Oliver, from New and Selected Poems (via luthienne)

[drlzzt-blog1]

sunshinedoomguide:

The dancers whirled, light sparkling on gold-threaded cloth and fat jewels, and there was enough petty corruption in all of them that Iswen could feel the beginnings of a headache itching at the bridge of her nose. She might be standing up here with a drow, but he felt clean in a way that none of those below did, like a sharp wind across her ears.

Though, damn, she’d been really hoping he’d take one of the orange puffs of pastry she’d only realized were fish eggs after she’d put one in her mouth and still had three on her plate. She had more luck with a white spiral that could have been a radish at some point in its life.

Rising an eyebrow, she inclined her head to him, a quick nod that encompassed the entirety of him standing here with her. “I could ask you the same thing,” she pointed out, simple fact. Her fingers stroked along the glossy wood of the banister for a moment, and she shook her head, “There wasn’t a polite way to refuse. At least I could choose to come as I am, and not as they would have me,” she added with a shrug.

He gave a sheepish smile at that. Once he had been universally reviled across the lands of the Sword Coast, turned away at every gate. He had lived an HONORABLE life since then; in spite of the strife that was bound to follow in his wake, he sought to protect the innocent and strike out against evil whenever he could. His skill and valor had earned him notoriety in the eyes of the public, and now, invitations to parties like this one were commonplace. He had gone from social pariah to object of curiosity in just a decade or two, and the transition still had him off-balance.

“They think I’m INTERESTING, I suppose.” He gave her a shrug, unsure how else to explain. He certainly wasn’t one to claim the mantle of hero or legend. “I probably wouldn’t have come, but for some friends of mine.” He nodded toward a corner across the room where a group of eccentric wizards were engaged in a show of parlor tricks. The Harpells were a strange clan, but they had been generous to him for many years now. The least he owed them was to make the occasional appearance at their request. 

He knew that several of the party guests were eager to make his acquaintance, but most seemed too SHY to approach him. Not the paladin, though-- and for that he was grateful. 

[drlzzt-blog1]

sunshinedoomguide:

She could have worn a gown to this, strictly speaking. She was not required to attend this as a representative of Kelemvor, and so could have worn what she liked, done what she liked. But she was used to the casual liveliness of taverns, not the faintly oppressive weight of nobility and wealth; in a way, standing as a blatant reminder that these people too, would die, was a little streak of defiance.

“–It isn’t very practical, to wear brocade and silks when traveling,” she agreed. Black and gray didn’t show stains, especially stains from things she didn’t want to touch, even to wash them out. “It does get tedious, though. Almost as tedious as this,” she muttered as she dragged her tiny plate of interestingly-shaped nibbles closer and examined them for something she could identify before she put it in her mouth. Generously, she nudged it between her and her companion.

It was comforting to be in the company of someone who was equally ill-at-ease with the lavish circumstances. Drizzt didn’t even have an excuse; he had spent the first thirty years of his life living in relative luxury, even if half that time had technically been in servitude to his own family.

Still, that was a lifetime ago, and the memories stirred by the whirling revelers were not PLEASANT ones.

Lavender eyes fixed on the plate of food and he nodded subtle thanks, but he didn’t partake. “If it’s not too impertinent of me to ask, why are you here? It’s clearly not a social call.”

[drlzzt-blog1]

sunshinedoomguide:

“Oh, do I know that feeling,” Iswen said on a laugh, bracing her hands on the banister and looking down at the dancers glittering to the strains of music below. “The robes are more comfortable anyways - though I admit, I really miss wearing colors,” she said, glancing down at her formal gray robe, her holy symbol the only faint gleam of white and black against the sober lines.

Drizzt shared her glance with a wry smile, following the soft grey folds of her robes to the floor. He thought nothing of the drab palette, but perhaps that was merely reminiscent of his upbringing. In Menzoberranzan, few dark elves were brave enough to stray beyond the traditional, muted palette favored by the goddess.

“I’ve never been much of one for color myself,” he admitted, looking at the exuberant and fashionable display down below. “I do LOVE color, and I’d like to wear more, but...” he hesitated, letting the rest go unspoken. He had a natural inclination to avoid attention, and black was the best camouflage, even if he’d grown tired of it ages ago.

[drlzzt-blog1]

“I’ve no interest in finery or wealth. I was born a noble and the mantle always sat poorly on my shoulders.”

[drlzzt-blog1]

teenhero replied to your post: // So I’ve been hanging around over...

no ��

// u no what Blythe I am tired of your shit

[drlzzt-blog1]

// So I’ve been hanging around over @accidentalnecrophilia, and I’ll be back here for replies this weekend, but in the meantime you should go say hi to Pharaun. I haven’t got a theme made for him yet, but he’s so much fun I gotta give him a nudge over here.

[wapiti3]

Soreq Cave kingdom of stalactites and stalagmites. Via Flickr: photos by Rema

[elpostcom]

Las impresionantes cavernas del Parque Velebit, de Croacia, retratadas por el fotógrafo Dinko Stopic

[cosmic-space-babe-blog]