#amarhys

[nathaira-draws]

Amarhys & Lodhir 💜

[theron-darksunder]

Severance (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

“I thought you said this would be easy now that his protections had been taken away.”  The gruff voice of one of the living onlookers finally said in the silence of the courtyard.  The Nightborne body that Amarhys currently inhabited held Kael’deryn’s head in her lap.  Her fingers lightly moved over her son’s face.  There was some semblance of regret there.  She had been the one to demand they unshackle him so she could more comfortably cradle her son.

Kael’deryn lay motionless. There was only the minute rise and fall of his chest, shallow breathing that would have troubled anyone.  Dying things did that and Amarhys knew too well what it was to take a life.  She had brought him into this world and now she might see him leave it.  Never had she intended it to go this far.  Never did she believe her son would be this stubborn and this resilient.  Two of the four had been released but he was still managing to fight.

“He is strong.” Amarhys’ voice finally cut through the eerie silence of the courtyard.  “He is stronger than he was before.”  Idly, her fingers moved through the red hair, noting that the wisps of silver had multiplied.  There was now an even ratio of crimson to silver.

“I say we continue.” Another voice rose from amongst the seven.

“If he dies before we take them out, the remaining entities will not be pleased.”  Bryntal’s voice came forth as one of the robed ones.  His arm was around a young girl with ebony hair. Her face was buried in his shoulder, a small sob coming out of her at Bryntal’s words.  A soft apology was given to the girl, violet eyes returning to look upon the others.

“We expended so much energy to make him release The Crone and the Guardian.  The Dark remains along with another we have no knowledge of.  It could be any of the remaining ones and if it is the Spirit we risk losing it all.”  The woman speaking was an older Kaldorei, her lips thinned in thought.

“Fine.  We give our all again as soon as the sun sets and the moon rises to her apex.”  Four of the robed figures began arguing as to when they should start before Oberyn sauntered to stand over the barely breathing Kael’deryn.  His cold eyes moved over to Amarhys.  A soft hum was coming out of the Nightborne, a lullaby she had sung to Oberyn when he was a child was now being wasted on Kael.  She even began to rock him as she held him close.

“Oh, don’t go all motherly on him now.  If he was not so stubborn, he would not be in this position!” Oberyn finally muttered with no remorse evident on his face.  His gaze flickered to the crowd and the spirits beyond.  “It’s his own damned fault.”  He hissed, passing by Bryntal and Rhysandel with a cigarette already in between his lips.  Broodily, he paced away from them and lit up, watching the others argue about when they would begin to try to pull the last two entities from the broken man.

“He is going to be okay?” It was Rhysandel’s voice now.  The young captain’s cheeks were tearstained but she made no attempt to hide them as she came to kneel at Kael’s side.  Her hands took a hold of one of Kael’deryn’s limp arms and brought his cold and unmoving fingers to her face.  She kissed his left palm, curiously tracing a rune that still remained after many attempts at removing it.  A soft apology formed on her lips.  His fingers twitched in the moment, making her jump and jerk to see if he had woken. It was merely a twitch of a severed tendon.  Amarhys’ look was cold, her eyes traveled down to the pale figure and shadow of the elf that was supposed to be her son.  In a strange way, she was proud of how strong he was despite the hassle that he caused.

When had she let her greed and power overtake her love for her family?  Centuries ago.

“He will be fine.” She retorted just in time to see the ones that had been arguing return.  They stared at each other for a long moment, seemingly waiting for the other to acknowledge the presence of the other.

“Take a picture!  It will last longer.”  Oberyn walked back to Amarhys, grinning like a chesire cat. “Ladies and gentlemen, what we have before us is a fine example of the Ravensdawn family values.  We sacrifice our own for some bullshit story of mythological monsters and fantastical gods!”

“Oberyn.”  Amarhys snarled from her position but Oberyn only raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender.  

“We begin once the moon is high once more.”  This time, it was a male Sin’dorei as homely and kind as the next.

“Fantastic.” Oberyn quipped.  “One of you should start the pyre for the funeral we are going to have.”

[ @septem-tenebris (Oberyn/Amarhys/Bryn/Rhysandel ]

[nathaira-draws]

Sneak peek of a wip

Energy level low asks for working on a comfort piece hehe

[nathaira-draws]

I am once more awful with posting on SoMe, so have this WIP of my rogue tiefling Amarhys (◡‿◡✿)

planning to do portraits for all my blorbos hehe

[nathaira-draws]

As the next round is starting soon, here some silly scribbly/meme drawings done in spring for the first Baldurs Games and Baahl Games we were having on velnna's Patreon Server Featuring @silmaryel's Inka and Kinder, @justporo's Kori and my Amarhys and Sirael

[nathaira-draws]

Three angels for Staevstarion 😎

From left to right: My Amarhys, @justporo 's Fox and @silmaryel 's Inka 💜 thanks for letting me draw your blorbos 🔥

Reference is that one three angels poster

[theron-darksunder]

Dream Haunt Posts: Initial Contact, Untold Visitor

Dreams were so much easier to manipulate.   They could easily be disintegrated into something far worse than reality.  The unreal and imagined could become a terrifying reality.  There were no rules of limitation in a dreamworld.  The true measure of power was the wills that were trapped within. Terror could know no bounds.

It had manifested as a haunting, bringing the very avians that Ilyea would have attributed to her sorcerer friend.  It played at her emotions, offering no threat just yet.  The chill in the air was permanent, licking frostily at her flesh with claws of winter.  Her very breath was present, the chill and scent of death jarring her insides with each inhale.

The figure remained unmoving but the feeling of being watched was present.  It was that skin-prickling feeling, the very one that raised the fine hairs on the back of one’s neck.  It triggered the fight or flight response, edging in a trickle of trepidation.  Something was definitely not right.

The cloaked figured held out the corvid named Rose without qualm.  It did not seem to grow tired in its unmoving gesture. Not a word escaped it but no breath was to be seen either.  The stillness it had mastered was something only seen in inanimate objects or the dead. Slowly, its head rose but there was still no face to be seen.  Instead, what seemed to be the edge of a beak peered from underneath the folds of the hood.

One hand reached out to Ilyea, the movement was fluid but unnerving as it seemed to extend farther from the body than it should.  Long, clawed fingers curled in a beckoning gesture, urging the girl to come forth from the protected space she stood in.  For even in dreams, the magical had defenses that could not be breached by alien beings.

“̠͖͕̠͉̱ Ỵ̸͕̱̞̖̻o̵͖̘̩͚͓ͅu̷̳͈̘̘̱ ̠͎͉a̶̮̺͇̻̮̻̰nd̨͎̖̦͖ ͖̼̮̲I͓͘ ̤̮̭͈̳͚̜h̬͢ạ̫̱͙̦̪̭͢v̰̥̳͖e҉̭̟͕͉̰͇̯ ̸͉̳̯ͅm̛̫̤͙u͕͉c͖̝͕̩h̘̫̼̭ ̹͓̲̻t͔͇̠̤͝o̧̪̫͖̳ ̱̰͘d͎̖̟̫̤i̫̠͉͉̮͢sç̻̹̞̻̩̪u̞̮̲s̨͉͔̳̯̹s̴͎̘,̝̩͚̰͝ ̪̰͔̦̠l̯̦̦̫̦i̱͇t̟̟̭̙t̛̫͎͙͚̠̝ͅl̥̱̲͝e̡ ̪s̗̙̝̲̖h͈̣̬͓͎a͓d̬͉̩̩̕o̱̳̜͈̥̭͔͞w̺̭̪̖͍͖̣.̳̰ ”͎̞̤̻

[ @thebuildingcacophony ]