#adreal

[delectablydeafeningvoid]

One more of my drow Adréalith plus a bonus demon bf Ezriel for good measure.

[delectablydeafeningvoid]

I’ve had an artistic drought for months but now suddenly i feel like making fully colored illustrations ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so enjoy my sorcerer and his demon bf

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Don't mind me, just posting art for a DnD character I don't even play anymore.

Anyways this is Adréalith my blue dragon origin draconic sorcerer

[delectablydeafeningvoid]

January of 2017 vs September of 2017

[starstruck-stormson]

Vessal

He was always unsure of armor. Whenever he had to don it, the initial feeling was like wearing a shiny carcass, the ribs of thin leather and cloth gripping at his scarred skin and felt...uncomfortable. It was the easiest word to associate with it. He felt like grubby, clinging hands were taut around his wrists and chest, heaving the life out of his soul while something else tried to seep in. He would understand, by all logical reasoning that the armor was intended to do the reverse- shield him from killing blows, keep him intact and in one piece, aswell as make him stand out as an authority - a better man than the scraped together leathers and cloth he had grown up in, but. There's always a but. Nothing about the armor was /his/, 30 years he had gone without any such thing, and now, Donned in the Kings finest, an heirloom of great importance, he felt utterly sickened. The metal - at least he had hoped for metal, was all but that. Obsidian in look and feel, the smooth surface fractured and splintered away into ominous spikes at his forearms and shoulders, sweeping back into the folds of a cloak that both looked and smelled of blood spilt long ago. The design sharpe, with nothing but teeth and fangs angled to strike the ever more imposing stance - and by all accounts it did. But somehow Vaun figured it wasn't supposed to intimidate /him/. " Ah, there's my kin. You'll look a proper Keidar yet, Stratos." The King strode forward from his seat, pushing up from the throne with a purpose and stalking towards Vaun, hidden eyes scrutinising all and everything Vaun was while circling him. Now, if Vaun had his choice, he would have spat at those word - that name like a viper - but with 16 visible Empire Guardians stood uniformly at each pillar, forever ready to strike a man down with more than just a sword - and the commanding office by the throne, Vaun rated his chances of getting off lightly were second to none. A clenching of hands and stretching of the hideous leather beneath the armor was all he could muster - eyes deadlocked forward and glaring craters into the throne and wall. That was only stopped when the King came to a halt before him, a crowned head with a lions head helmet - Vaun could only visualise a rat faced old man as he tried in vain to hide the sneer. " If i may speak freely, Ser-" For what had just happened, Vaun had blinked. He had seen the slap coming, he had been tensed for it by instinct, and he was expecting to be grounded... But that was not the case. A shout of men and a rustle of metal as a mixture of blades and halberd heads pointed at him, and the King lifted by the jaw of his helm by...his own hand? He hadn't meant to do that, but he had. And now he had the realms strongest guardians bearing down at him without hesitation. He had wants to let go, thought he had. But right then and there... He had become a guest to his own body. What happened next was a blur, a flurry of blows after the King... Yes he'd thrown him to the ground and turned... He had thought there was blood, there was a crunching pain but it wasn't fully his, what he could only summarise as motion sickness kicking in... The world was a blur of gold, marble and black. It was only with the intrusion of The Warlock that the motion sickness ended as abruptly as a staff slammed into the side of his head, causing him to collapse to a kneel. " Am I truly in the service of a bumbling fool?!" The voice was sharp, a stern retort to a shrieking King. (( will continue when it isn't 5am ))

[starstruck-stormson]

Vaun and Adreal both know there's an elephant in the room, and both try to avoid it as best they can. The fact of the matter is, in their realm prophecies and destiny, fate is a strict thing that most of the people have just come to expect, you are born and shuffled into a role even if it is one you don't care for. Adreal had a very good grasp on how the world worked, didn't question it as - hey, he was dropped into the rich and high life of magical masters and beings. His entire birthright was privilege at its finest. Vaun on the other hand, born a bastard prince to a king who is for all intents and purposes, a puppet to his peers and a coward, doesn't care for any of it. Rebellion thrives in his veins and the fact that he's descended from an evil creature, with a reputation still whispered of, aggravates him to his core. Because the fates tell him- The prophecies for tell him- The ether has /decided/ for him- That he is evil. That he will be the downfall of all he loves, and if he were to ever rise in power, he will become a tyrant, he will become Stratos' incarnate. He's /supposed/ to shun the storms, the churning seas and billowing skies because they are all Stratos' tools. In all honesty If Vaun followed his own skill, the inferno and fire would thrive in his fingers, and in truth when he becomes enraged the fires and thunder both fight for control. He is a devastation waiting to happen. But he knows there's good that comes from the rolling clouds and storm dancers, there /has/ to be. Vaun refuses to lay down and let his fate go along some dotted line journey that he can't control- especially if at the end of that line he is depicted as a remorseless tyrant - the thought of control of his own actions being out of his own hands gives him the strength to force the change, even when those around him are angered. Adreal doesn't /want/ everyone else to be right, and is trying his damnedest to help Vaun prove them wrong, but it goes against everything he has been brought up to believe. He's already fallen into his 'fate' of, if people know me as a warlock, I shall act as such, and he doesn't think he's strong enough to change everyone's mind. But they're both fighting to be a difference and both have something to prove, wether or not it ends in good graces and smile is yet to be seen.

[starstruck-stormson]

Vaun ramblings pt1

He doesn’t walk so much as prowl the dark and cobbled stone streets of home. Doors are barred shut and windows bolted, even the wind doesn’t dare creep past his steps without asking. There is a tide of darkness behind him, swallowing friends and home alike, and absorbing whatever fires or lights dare to flicker at this ungodly hour.

The blackness billows up like storm clouds, heavy and groaning through rumbles and growls of their own weight as it grasps at his wrists and waist, adorning his skin in blackens rain water. It creeps slowly up though his skin, linking scar after scar in a sizzle and pop. He feels the cobbles falling away and the distant cries - turned white noise as everything is /consumed/.

And as his maw opens, the light falls out, globs pooling and falling away from him, eaten away at by the smog that held everything captive, the storm that rose from his cockles and upward.

The sky was in turmoil, rolling over itself like a pained animal, whose thunderous groans were split apart with shrieks of lightning, opening wounds that wept above. Everything was falling apart and the worst part.

Was that he was smiling.

—————–

It was the glimpse of that smile that jumped him awake, the sun barely kissing the sky good morning as he sat, sweat soaked and panting in his loft room. The various safeguard charms and wind chimes clinking and some clattering to the ground. It was always the same as he brought hands to his face, making sure he could feel that smile, he checked himself over quickly, clambering out of bed and to the tall mirror in the corner.

His body was fighting back the shades of blacks at his ankles and wrist, dispersing within a few seconds of his eyes finding them. He rubbed his eyes- he checked again and they were gone. It was gone. He checked himself over once more, to find his scars intact, his body intact, and everything at least moving. Calming himself, he steadied his breathing, standing with hands tugging at the back of his hair, he let his head drop back as he walked around the room, counting his steps. Grounding himself to where he was and what was happening now.

It was only after a solid amount of time that he moved to pick up the chimes and charms. Lifting them back to their posts to guard him once more, he tousled his own hair. Sitting at the Windows ledge, he peered inside to look over his room. The visions- or nightmares, he wasn’t sure which - had caused his bed to become a mess and a few things to had been slipped out of place. He would get to reorganising later, for now he was hungry.

————–

It was the clinking and tinkle of the chimes that had grabbed the others attention from below as he made his way upstairs.

Adrealphus had sensed a massive, shifting imbalance of the eather during the night, and had reasonings and inklings as to what it might have been. But whenever this had happened, he had known through trial and error that it was best to leave the Prince alone to find himself before disturbing him. In hand with a wooden tray with various morsels of breakfast foods and two drinks, he made his way into the Princes chamber, a hum aided with him opening the door as he stepped inside.

“ Some of your favourites, My Lord. Eggs and steamed broccoli with a side of salmon and tuna steaks - are you alright?” The was always a softness to Adreal’s tone in the morning. Vaun had assumed he hadn’t found anything to be gruff about at this time in the morning, and for that he was thankful.

“ Thank you, thank you… Yes yes I’ll be alright… It was the same sight again.” He huffed a sigh at the end of his line, words only faintly edged with thunder as he glanced outside, leaning against the window frame as Adreal set the food down on the small oak table beside him. “ It’s deafening, the noise I think I hear and the images I see are just…”

He shifted his seat, resting head in his hands as he forced repeat images from his mind, and focused on his breakfast.

“ I’d use the word /unpleasant/, sire but I don’t think that would do, now come, eat. We have a glorious hunt awaiting us today.”

After setting the food down, Adreal had gone to absent mindedly clean up the place whilst also finding clean clothes for the now eating Vaun. It had become a second nature to completely overlook the fact that the prince was naked, and it had become normal for the both of them to simply not care.

“ Please enlighten me when you do… Are you /sure/ there isn’t something we can do to make them stop? It’s been years-”

“We’ve already tried everything that is safe and a few things that nearly killed you… Whatever is happening in your head is… Sadly out of my depth sire”

“Then what good are you?” Vaun snapped, catching himself to late as the words edged with fear struck forth. The sudden stillness in the room was unsettling, and as Vaun put the fork back down, he sheepishly looked away.

“ I’m … I’m so sorry Adrealphus I didn’t mean-”

He was hushed with a raise of the warlocks hand, as he moved from the bedside towards the prince - with clean undergarments in hand. Sitting beside him, he tossed them beside the seated prince and looked up. Long curled black hair well kept and revelling as loose strands fell across dark tanned freckled cheeks. A smile framing his lips.

“ I know, I know. Do not worry about it Vaun, if that was all it took to wound me do you think I’d put up with your arse? ”

Whenever he spoke frankly it brought a broad smile to Vauns face. It was then he joined in with his own breakfast and cheered the Prince up.

They would get through this together, like all the years past they had.