#dora oc

[shandoratheexplorer]

Wednesday WIP and Last Line Written

Got tagged by @lottavilja and @denesmera

Thank you!

I'm currently having a "pause" day for writing, but I did a little drabble of the day my vampire Durge Eladora was born.

Little backstory: She was created alongside 10 other Bhaalspawn, Elegys, Octavian, and default Durge among them.

Bhaal put them all in an arena and told them to fight, cull the weak, so to speak.

After a tenday, there were only 3 left standing. Eladora, default Durge, and a half-orc.

Using it/its pronouns for those first few days because Eladora did not get an identity until after the battle royale was concluded.

Hiding it because of Violence and Gore.

Tagging @nw39 @arachnomancer @roguishcat @alwaysmauria

At first, there was nothing, neither heaviness, nor pain, nor existence. Then— It had been born. Lying on the cold, hard temple floor, it doesn't know who or what it is. It only knows blood lust. Blinking blearily against the dim light, the scent of blood heavy in the air. It hears others nearby. Some groans. One whimper. Pathetic. It scrambles to its legs, looking around itself, finding many others slowly rising to consciousness. Bodies to discard. Flesh to feast upon. Challenges to prove itself against. A voice rings through the temple: Fight, my children. The winner shall be freed, fed, named, and revered. That's all the encouragement they need. The whimpering whelp is the first to be torn apart by fangs and claws. It slowly backs off from the pile of bodies, diving straight in seems like a bad idea, too many of them, too close together, all of them in a frenzy. Slinking into one of the shadows of the arena, it tries to decide who to kill while the others are busy. Which of them is easy prey? Movement to its right draws its attention. Nearby, a halfling ducks under the claw swipe of a white dragonborn, running right between their legs and toward the dying flesh in the middle, blinded by blood lust and hunger, they dive into the fray and dig their dull teeth into squirming flesh. It smirks, its tail lashing out and pulling the halfling back. Something rips, something screams. It doesn't matter what makes the noise, as it quickly lifts the halfling with its tail and rams two claws into their throat. There's no time to feast on the dead body, not while so many others still stand. It drops its kill unceremoniously and moves on to the next. The arena dissolves into chaos. A half-orc tears the limbs off of a black-haired half-drow he captured, the sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone momentarily overshadowing their screams. The white dragonborn from earlier crushes the arm of a crimson-haired half-elf with their jaws.

[shandoratheexplorer]

Azeroth Lore

I don't nearly talk about my vampire Durge Dora enough but today I felt compelled to write a bit for her Patron and Sire Azeroth.

The First Tainted Vein. Ancestor of Night. Sire of Eternal Thirst. The Fallen One. Maker of the Broken Dawn.

So have some Azeroth lore I came up with on the fly I guess lol

He's the very first vampire, a dark elf from the time when they were not yet named "drow".

His skin is black as onyx, his hair is white as snow, his eyes are of a red so deep they reflect is eternal thirst in a haunting way, he's very delicate and floats more than he walks because he's no longer fully of this world.

He's very gothic influenced.

He's evolved into an eldritch being who gives out pacts once in a while if he feels like it.

His coven consists of 5 full blown Vampire Lords (one of which is a friggin' DRAGON!) and countless Spawn.

He wants people to "be themselves" because he hates it when others show him fake submission, just to escape punishment. He respects people with a spine. (groveling little whelps have become tiresome)

His castle is in the Turnback Mountains (legit Faerûn location, look it up lol).

It's surrounded by deep trenches filled with lava and protected by sentient bridges (spanners) who will tip everyone into the hot mess if they come with plans to harm his coven. The mountains around are covered in snow but he keeps his own climate above the citadel, thunderclouds mostly to keep the sun out.

He doesn't bother remembering the names of gods anymore, they never last long enough to make it worth his while.

A Bhaalspawn knocking on his door and asking for a Warlock pact is the most interesting thing that's happened to him ever since the birth of humankind.

By now he has become so bored with his existence that he's really just along for the ride if anything piques his interest.

He believes he has reached the pinnacle of power, he won't say no to a challenge though because he hopes to be surprised.

He might attempt ascension for himself just to see what it is like to live as a Vampire Ascendant.

If you want a little glimpse into him, Azeroth is featured in this one shot.

This is Dora: Child of Bhaal, carrier of the most impressive balls in the whole of Faerûn for actually daring to just show up at this guy's doorstep and asking for a warlock pact and immortality too while she's at it.