#bielrin

[deadeyemagpiess]

Bonus sketch of Bielrin! For Burrito

[styliferous]

"And then his head exploded right in front a' me! Pow! Red mist before I could blink. I think I even got some brain in my mouth."

If I started rping tf2, Ben would be the kid of annoying kid brother scout type who would reenact things you were there for. The good news is that if you can tolerate him he's the best ego boost you could ask for if you did something he decided was neat.

[styliferous]

I told you Biel'd fit as a Scout.

[styliferous]

despondence replied to your photo: November December All in all it’s been a pretty...

omg your art is so wonderful, cries 5ebr. never 4get toiq art 2k12

Did you mean: Perfect chance to dig up all the art I've done of Toiq over the last year to revel in again, and reflect that I need to draw him more??

I love Toiq so much. uHu;;

[styliferous]

Biel, Betty and Pancake, or the tiniest bosmer with the biggest pets.

[styliferous]

I imagine when Biel gets back to Whiterun, he'll beeline for Mort.

[archerandmage-blog]

[10 years old] What do you want be when you are an adult?

I'm going to be the greatest mage in the world, obviously. And I'm going to have the smartest friends, and the biggest library, just like grandpa.

I dunno! Maybe I can be like dad? I haven't shown any magic yet, but that doesn't mean I won't! It'd be the best thing ever if I could be great mage like dad!

[archerandmage-blog]

Mortvalis is fifty years gone, and Bielrin, the stubborn mer, is finally starting to accept it.

A thing I wrote because of reasons. uHu ))

There is a mer in town who has the titles of Bard and Dibellan, but he does not accept commissions for his songs. And while he visits Dibella's shrine for hours and mentors young artists new to Her worship, he does not practice the arts Dibellans are most known for. Refuses offers, even, from anyone who scrounges up the courage to ask. He wears dark clothing, and always carries a lute on his back.

Sometimes he can be found busking on a corner, playing songs on that battered lute that made you think of high vaulted ceilings and golden summers, songs that make you smile. 

When it rains, he plays tunes that make you weep, instead. When he sings on these days, it's always about love. There are gossips who think he's star crossed with someone he can't have, and when he overhears them, the smile he wears looks painful.

As it happens, the mer has children old enough to have children of their own. They're a motley bunch, and not a one of them has Bosmer blood that anyone can see, but they love him dearly. They visit him every few months, and it's the only time you can remember him laughing honestly. When questioned, only one of them gives a straight answer. 

He is a widower, and in mourning. Has been for these past fifty years. The humans in town marvel at that- surely he doesn't need to mourn that long? Oughtn't five, maybe ten years be long enough for anyone? The mer, though, only nod.

You meet him, once, and though he smiles at you and it reaches his eyes, he looks tired.