I heard this song and it was giving me massive Ishvi vibes, and so I had to do some art, lol. They go super ham on their Oath of Revelry, thriving on being the center of attention and the life of the party. ...This definitely isn't a form of overcompensation for rejection sensitivity thanks to their neurodivergent struggles growing up. >o> <o<
In between art fight stuff I’ve been going crazy with redesigns for old OCs, and more Mystryias. All of these characters are some of my oldest, all the way back from Middle School, from my circus, Circus of Doom, which exists in the same world as my TerrorCarnival characters. But they came first. And hate the carnival. lol.
The party made a new friend! Meet Ishvi Silverhawk, Paladin of Chepra, Oath of Revelry, Transfemme Nonbinary, absolute ADHD disaster. They were being held captive in a strange eldritch space the party was exploring, and are very happy to be freed! But whoops, apparently a Very Important Person was with them and also got captured! =D
Things are a bit chaotic right now, and poor Ishvi is Very Stressed Out which is not helping the emotional dysregulation that comes with ADHD, but I'm very much looking forward to the party getting to interact with them once things are quieter and their usual personality can shine through.
Ishvi's face is so much fun to draw, they're such a goddamned diva and they own it and I'm living for it. Wagner, on the other hand, is a sweet cinnamon roll which is fun in it's own way.
I'm faaaairly sure these two are the last major Thrrasir NPCs that will be introduced before July, so with this I should be done adding characters to my art fight profile for this upcoming season!
Decided to knock together a proper reference for Ishvi's art fight profile, since a lot of folks seemed to be confused about what was going on with their outfit, especially the skirt. Hopefully this is easier to work from!
More random Thrrasir NPC side-stories! This time, they aren't particularly plot relevant, just a few snippets of conversation I wrote between Ishvi and Wagner to better develop their dynamic and write more of Ishvi's personality. But you all might enjoy regardless! Mild content warning for some allusions to sex, racism, and dysphoria, though nothing graphic or extreme.
Seven years before the events of the campaign...
"...Is that a text about Dhorilian privateers in the late 2000s AC? Why in all the stars of Hef are you reading about pirates from three-thousand years ago?"
Ishvi jerked, their elbow knocking into a nearby inkwell and almost toppling it. Mentally they felt rather as if they'd been riding at a top speed gallop, only for the horse to careen around a bend and send them flying into the dirt. The mental whiplash was almost dazing, and for a moment they couldn't fully process what was even being said to them.
Then, they saw a dark skinned hand leaning on the table just a little ways to their left, and looked up into the face of the thirteen-year-old Prince Wagner. A spike of annoyance made them grit their teeth, and they hissed, "I've told you not to bother me when I'm actually managing to concentrate for a change! Now I'll never get my head back on track!"
The young tiefling smiled apologetically, pointing towards a nearby window. "In my defense, it's ah… almost four in the morning? I woke up and saw you never made it back to the barracks and thought I should come get you before you forgot to get any sleep."
Befuddled, Ishvi followed the path of Wagner's pointed finger, and was surprised to see that the sky outside the holy library was black and spangled with stars, and the moon had very nearly set. Some of the radiant fury of being pulled down from the euphoric high that they felt on the rare occasion they actually managed to find a topic to catch and hold their interest faded, and they winced.
"Shit… I lost track of the time again."
"Mm-hm," Wagner agreed, starting to collect some of the stack of books his friend had already read and discarded. "You're gonna be a mess tomorrow during training as it is, you ought to get at least a little sleep."
Ishvi sighed, raking a hand through their bangs and picking up the books as well. "Right. You're right. Ugh, what was I even doing in here in the first place? I feel like it definitely wasn't supposed to be a ten hour bender on the history of Dhorillean naval warfare…"
"Either you'll remember when the captain scolds you for not getting it done, or it won't matter too much," Wagner pointed out reasonably, with the casual aplomb that came from having witnessed both scenarios more than once. The twenty-three year old squire stuck their tongue out at the younger boy.
"Easy for you to say, asshole, you're not the one who's got a graduation assessment next week. My ordeal is already late- the last thing I want is another letter from Father about how I failed the assessment again."
Wagner tweaked the older man's nose. "Talking like you even read any of those letters. And nineteen is just the average age for the ordeal year- some take it younger, some don't pass until they're in their thirties."
"Perish the thought," Ishvi barked with an exaggerated shudder as they shoved the books into the return bin. "If you get promoted before I do, I will have something to say about it! You ollie off from training every few weeks for some other stupid dinner or party with the nobility!"
"You talk like you're not nobility," Wagner said, dumping his own armload and turning towards the exit.
"I wish I wasn't," Ishvi mused, following their young friend out into the cool night air outside the library. "You may joke about my not reading Father's letters, but he makes it clear that with Mum's difficulties conceiving I'm all he's got. Soon as I pass my ordeal he's probably going to start badgering me to secure the line. Produce a grandchild he can name heir instead of me. Not that I'd mind being passed over, but you know how I feel about…"
The uncomfortable silence hung for a moment, and the thirteen year old tentatively offered, "Siring?"
"Nnng," Ishvi looked down uncomfortably. They'd had to explain a little under a year ago exactly how the mechanics of creating a child worked, seeing as no one in his family had seen fit to do it, which had of course led to equally frank discussions of how Ishvi felt on the matter. But talking about it ostensibly in public, even at this hour when no one was liable to be about, wasn't something Ishvi was fully comfortable with. They'd had one conversation with their parents, at fifteen, about the possibility of surgery, but the answer was one they really should've expected- they were fine with it, but only after Ishvi produced for the family at least one, preferably two heirs.
They'd be in for a lecture on duty next time they saw their father if word got back that they were complaining about it. Even the Queen, who had taken a wife as her partner, had to lie with a man at least one time for the sake of duty, after all.
Shaking their head, they said, "But nevermind that- what were we talking about again?"
"You getting some sleep so you don't fall on your nose during training," Wagner reminded them with a raised brow. "Also you fretting about your assessment, but some sleep will be good for that too."
"Right. I uh, might have missed dinner too, do you-"
Wagner shook his head, but bless him, he seemed to have anticipated that too, because he pulled an apple out of his money pouch and offered it to his friend. "Over breakfast you'll have to tell me what you were reading that held your attention so long. But not right now- bed Ishvi."
"I'm going, I'm going," they said, picking up their pace towards the barracks to a trot.
_________
Shortly before the events of Eldritch Eulogy...
The two bed room was spacious as inns went, with about a man's height of space between each bed and everything carrying the telltale smell of having been freshly laundered. The blankets on the bed were made of some sort of animal fur, and a brief glance at the pillows confirmed they were stuffed with down, not hay.
"For as remote as this place is, the accommodations are quite nice," Ishvi mused, rocking on their heels as they looked about the room that had been letted to them. Turning back to Wagner with a wry smirk, they added, "Which is good, if we're going to be here for a while."
The prince- currently disguised as a wood elf and going under the alias "Walker"- groaned with mock resignation. In his hands the younger man was holding an envelope that had been pressed upon them before they even got to the inn.
"As remote as it is, you would think that the sort of trouble they'd ask paladins to intervene in wouldn't bother with them," Wagner replied with a sigh. "Normally I'd be thrilled to have something actually productive to do, but-"
"But you can't wait to get to Alu Lyth, you're missing your sweetheart terribly, wax about it again, please," Ishvi interjected, sauntering over to the bed and running their fingers over the plush fur. "Duty calls, my friend, so your cuddles and kisses appointment will have to wait!"
They glanced over their shoulder, and were rewarded to catch Wagner sticking out his tongue at them. The moon elf laughed, waggling a finger admonishingly. "Now, now, is that any way for someone of your stature to behave?"
"My stature? I have no notion what you mean," Wagner replied, turning away to open the envelope. "I am just a paladin, same as you. An inferior, magic-less paladin even."
Ishvi glanced over Wagner's shoulder at the note, but they could immediately see that the effort was fruitless- as had been the case with most everything else in this town, it was in Draconic, which Ishvi did not speak. With a shrug, they left their young friend to it.
They had been speaking in Elvish- the language that both they and Wagner were most fluent in, the language of both their childhoods. They also shared a fluency in common that was required of nobles, and Ishvi had tried to pick up both Goblin and Gnomish. As was often the case, however, their lack of patience for intense study had kept them from getting more than a few gloss words and phrases of either. Wagner, on the other hand, was a proper omniglot. On top of the aforementioned Elvish and Common, he was fluent in Gnomish, Goblin, Halfling, and thanks to his status as a tiefling, Infernal. He was further conversational in Dwarvish, and Draconic.
No Undercommon, which might have surprised anyone who knew the boy's heritage, but this was at the direct pressure of the rest of the Elvish nobles. They already didn't like that their prince and princess were half tiefling, half drow. They absolutely balked at the prince sullying his tongue on Undercommon when most drow he would need to talk to for diplomatic reasons would understand Elvish.
Nevermind the duergar or the svirfneblin. Or the various non-native races who live down there and will speak Undercommon by proximity. They thought sarcastically. The drow are bug-eyed cave rats but at least they're proper elves. The rest? Pah!
Ishvi gave a soft snort of derision, making Wagner look up from the paper in his hand and quirk a brow. "A copper for your thoughts?"
"Just insulting our dear, divinely appointed overlords in my imagination again, don't mind me," Ishvi replied with a shrug and a crooked grin. They caught themselves petting the blanket again, and folded their arms, turning back to face Wagner. "So what's the letter say?"
Wagner's expression was one of bemused understanding, but he took the change of subject with good grace. "The clan's Rimem- their chief- wants us to look into some strange creatures that have started to infest the woods around here, as well as a string of disappearances."
"I don't like that those two things are happening at the same time," Ishvi said grimly. "Implies one might be causing the other. But are monsters killing people, or might it be some sort of lycanthropy thing?"
"Impossible to say without more information," the prince pointed out. "Which means it's time for your favorite- questioning the locals."
"Aaaah, but I don't share any languages with the locals," Ishvi fired back. "So I am literally incapable of playing the face. And I won't even be able to understand when they needle you about the fact that I'm standing behind you and fidgeting like a bored three-year-old. Such a shame."
Wagner scowled a bit. "As if I wouldn't make it clear I won't stand for it if they do."
Ishvi shrugged with far more dismissiveness than they actually felt. "Come on, hero, it's late and we're both tired. Let's get some dinner in us, and figure out what our plan of attack is for tomorrow morning."
