𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬.

[ruvaaklovaas]

#ruvaaklovaas. An independent, slow activity roleplay blog for Ketilvé Raven-Song, an original character set primarily in The Elder Scrolls with an active verse for Baldur's Gate 3. Written by Grace, she/her, 25+. Please read rules and information before interacting!

Other blogs: luhnsilvars and moonshadowedthief.

A study in: Love and grief, a mother's wrath, self destructive revenge, cult trauma, shattered faith, becoming more than the monster they made you, and the journey of redemption.

[kragehund-est]

problematic rage gap. one partner tries to bring nuance and understanding to a tough situation. the other wants to blow up the earth about it.

[pridefulsuggestion]

i still have my anger. i still have my spine. i still have the point of the blade in my bone. i will defend my free will and remember my will to be free.

[ruvaaklovaas]

This is THE Ketilvé song for anyone wondering

[spiritbladed]

something something extremely sexy when magic users resort to physical violence. yeah i have the power of god and anime on my side but i also have THESE HANDS. i cast Punch You In The Face. i take my magic staff through which i channel the vast energies of the elements and the cosmos and i cast Severe Concussion And Skull Fracture. casting time for xenoglossy too long, chose the quicker route of Stab You In The Throat.

[isugontellonme]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝

[darkacademiaarchivist]

i'm not dying on this hill, I'm killing you on it actually.

[cyeayt]

Shout out to Characters who are shells of their former selves! You died and you’re not coming back! You don’t recognize yourself and neither does anyone else, and it’s anyone’s guess what the fuck you’re supposed to be now!

[ruvaaklovaas]

Touch averse yet also touch starved Ketilvé finally trusting someone enough to let them hold her. The moment where she instinctively tenses at first before realizing she feels safe in their arms, not trapped.

[signedthemoon]

— isa b. she exists in places hard to reach

[soul-from-another-era]

[chillinrpmemes]

Send in a ♬ for your muse to catch mine singing

[noamuth]

The bolt seems to hit just in time to free Ketilvé from the harpy's trance, and bring the creature within range for an attack--not exactly his original goal, but it works.

Dalamus puts his hand crossbow away and uses his strong arm to shield his eyes as he squints in Ketilvé's direction. His injured arm hangs at his side, blood beginning to trickle down the sleeve from where claws had managed to tear through the thick cloth which served as his armor. Dark brows raise and even his ears perk up in interest as magic swirls about the mage's hand.

Even from this distance, Dalamus can see the harpy's face contort unnaturally, eyes and mouth wider than he thought possible as it clutches its head with clawed hands. For a moment, he thought it was going to start plucking out hair and feathers to distract from the psychic anguish, but it seems paralyzed with horror. Its shrill cries pierce the air, a stark contrast to the soft, enchanting song it had been singing just moments ago. Some might have viewed the scene with horror, but Dalamus... A toothy grin spreads across his face as he observes the torment of their enemy.

When at last the harpy can scream no more, its throat ragged and voice wavering, the creature's head rolls back and the rest of its body follows, crumpling into the water with an unceremonious splash, lifeless. A triumphant bark of laughter bursts from Dalamus, cheering on her brutality. "Lolth tlu malla!" Lolth be praised!

His celebration is cut short as movement in his peripheral vision grabs his attention. A harpy on the cliffside near Dalamus has broken away from the pesky crow familiars and is zeroing in on Mirkon, the boy only just now beginning to dazedly pick himself up from the sand. Xsa'ol...

Mirkon lifts himself onto his hands and knees, shaking his aching head. His eyes go wide as a shadow encircles him, slowly growing, and he turns around just in time to see the harpy descending towards him--all sharp talons and powerful wings, like some mockery of an angel. He shrieks and closes his eyes, flinching in anticipation of being snatched--but he is not, and uses the reprieve to scramble out of melee range.

Opening his eyes again, he sees Dalamus using both daggers to block each of the harpy's hands, though one of his arms is clearly weaker than the other. The harpy's wings keep it aloft just above the sand, and it tries to kick with taloned feet--all it would take is one well-aimed kick to disembowel him. Dalamus jumps backwards, and to his surprise, the harpy briefly turns towards Mirkon again, disengaging from Dalamus and turning its back on him.

Big mistake.

As swiftly as he can manage while it is distracted by the tantalizing closeness of its desired prey, Dalamus gets behind the creature and jumps to grab the wings' shoulders, dragging the harpy down to the ground, then uses a leg to sweep on of the harpy's legs out and unbalance it. He shoves it forward and kneels on its back as it strains to scrabble and scratch at him and shrieks and buffets with its wings, before finally he pulls its head back and slits its throat. Its limbs flail a little while longer, but quickly lose strength until it stills, its blood coloring the sand crimson.

Dalamus tries to disguise his pants of exertion as he peers up at the young boy leaning back in the sand, huffing and puffing with fear. Him. He is the reason Dalamus is injured and has come close to death in just the last few minutes. Dalamus notes the shining in the little tiefling's eyes, and also the fact that he appears to still be uninjured.

...Good.

[ruvaaklovaas]

From her view up on the cliffs, Ketilvé can see that this fight needs to end. The child had nearly been taken several times already, and Dalamus is injured. While he finishes off the one down on the beach, she goes after the other one still alive. If they had any sense, the harpies really should have fled.

A darker part of her is glad they have no sense.

With a quick wave of her hand her familiar flock flies out of the way as she herself closes in on the final harpy, and she uses a thunderwave to throw her off the cliff into the water below. Before she can regain her bearings- or the use of her wings- Ketilvé calls a lightning bolt down on top of her just as the drow slits the other one's throat.

Sopping wet and standing in the water, the lightning practically roasts her alive instantly, and the harpy barely manages to let out a shriek before she too falls dead into the waves.

Ketilvé takes only a moment to gasp for breath, breaking her concentration so that the magical lightning disappears into nothing and leaves the water relatively safe again, then misty steps down from the cliffs again and runs to where Mirkon and Dalamus are. She offers the drow a nod, her version of thanks, before going to check on the child.

Where before had been fire and rage, a deadly storm, now she seemed impossibly tender. Gentle hands wipe away the boy's tears and cradle his frightened face as if they had done so a thousand times before, and where her voice had been sharp and commanding mere minutes earlier, now it soothed.

“There now, it's alright. You were so brave. You're safe now.”

Then that orphan child, remembering the touch of his own parents, hugs her. For a moment she freezes, and her eyes widen in shock as they fill with tears too for reasons unknown. Still she holds him, but only for a few moments before he seems to remember something, pulling away to tell them both about gold in the nest and ‘the dragon's lair’.

She hardly notices what he says, only that her arms suddenly feel painfully, desperately empty.

As she returns to her feet she keeps her back turned to Dalamus and Mirkon as she rubs her eyes furiously on her sleeve, attempting to regain her composure. And yet, in that moment of emotion, her tadpole connects to his and reveals more than she'd like before she can stop it. Emptiness, loss, confusion, and fear.

[noamuth]

Dalamus slowly eases himself down and sits not immediately beside, but probably closer than he would have were it not for the walls of the tent. Some respite from the sun, for now, he thinks. At least until someone intrudes under the assumption that Dalamus has decided to end Ketilvé's misery in a more permanent manner.

"Had a brother," Dalamus corrects casually, although his ears tip downwards ever so slightly and he seems to shift uncomfortably, bringing one knee up to rest an arm on. "Nilaufein is dead. He was killed during his Blooding 170 years ago. To what remains of my family, I may as well have suffered the same fate the instant I stepped foot outside Menzoberranzan. Regardless, I must return because I belong to Lolth. This is not my world. I simply need the tadpole gone, and I can return to mine."

[ruvaaklovaas]

“Oh. I'm sorry.” She says quietly, a little awkwardly, but she really did mean it.

She looks up at the drow properly now, and for a brief moment, she wonders if she is looking at someone as messed up and lonely as she is. She does not know whether she has a family, or if she had lost anyone; but she is certain she does not have a home she belongs to anymore.

She sips again from the tea before curiosity gets the better of her and she asks, “What do you mean by blooding?”

[natureswarden]

Skepticism eased in the form of his unkempt eyebrow returning to rest in its natural position. Her reasoning did little to assuage his confusion, however. He was not so naïve as to doubt her, as dishonesty, greed, and selfishness did often lead some to break their promises and abandon allies to suit their own needs. Did he, then, do something that convinced her to include him in the blanket of "anyone" that would break a promise made just because, in her mind, it apparently no longer served him to offer his aid?

Ultimately, he decided to stew on it in silence. His response already exasperated her, again, for reasons he could not place; he preferred to keep the peace over poking the proverbial bear.

Halsin nodded, the bare hint of a smile finding his lips. " As am I. Before long, he will restore balance to nature in the region and it will be safe once more. I also hope that, after we deal with this Elder Brain and the Chosen, Thaniel and I will meet again. "

Her hands drew his attention to the amulet she wore, the seemingly instinctual press of her fingers to it. A soothing gesture? Or a simple habit? Curiosity and a desire to perhaps diffuse any annoyance she harbored for him in that moment convinced him to use it as a chance to change the topic.

" Is that amulet special to you? A gift from someone you care about, perhaps? "

[ruvaaklovaas]

She froze in response to the question, the rest of the conversation forgotten, and the hand that had been fidgeting with the pendant closed into a fist around it. She closed her eyes as she took a breath to compose herself before answering, and for a brief moment she almost looked to be in pain.

The memories are fresh, fresher than they should be; far from oblivion, it seemed that Shar's darkness only amplified her sorrow and rage, and she had remembered far more since entering the cursed land than any time before.

She did not want to answer that question, but she also had no wish to hide away the very existence of her family just to assuage her own grief. No, she wanted the world to know that he had lived; he deserved better than to be erased and forgotten. Even if some part of her longed to forget again, knowing it would be easier, she also would not give the memories up for any price now.

In any case, if she had to tell someone, Halsin seemed the most likely to understand. No one lived as long as the druid had without knowing loss.

She opened her eyes, but they remained downcast as if avoiding meeting his gaze.

“Yes. I-” she was quieter now, less assured than she had sounded a moment ago, “my son. He made it for me. He loves- loved, art.”

[ruvaaklovaas]

Back on my bullshit

[pressedpetalsinpages]

@ruvaaklovaas

Getting infected with a mindflayer tadpole had not been on Chloe's to-do list.

Now she was in a rag tag group of...colorful individuals. She wasn't sure how else to describe them. She wasn't convinced that most of them wouldn't slit her throat while she slept. It kept her quite on edge.

Ketilvé seemed nice enough. At least enough that Chloe didn't feel too afraid to sit near her at the campfire during a rest. She absentmindedly rubbed her aching knees, watching the flames dance in front of them. Gale had insisted on making a hearty stew for dinner, so they had that to look forward to.

She leaned over closer to the other woman. "Do you think it's going to be edible?" she whispered. "It smells good, but I'm a little unsure."

[ruvaaklovaas]

Ketilvé was sitting by the fire herself, gently scratching the head of the raven who stood perched on her knee; one of her familiars. An old book they'd looted from the ruins sat open in her lap, but in truth she had been watching Gale work for a while now.

Though she instinctively moved slightly away when Chloe joined her, naturally wary of everyone, her fellow wizard's company was not unwelcome, and she half-smiled in response to her question.

“I have been watching to ensure he doesn't add anything toxic to us, if it is of any reassurance,” she said softly, “I'm not convinced he isn't using some magic unknown to us however. Random stale ingredients we foraged from the dirt have no business smelling that good.”