#corellon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

Photo

Adventure: Hunting in the Ghostglade

Beyond the fortress city of Amaranth there is a wondrous and serene landscape where phantom animals wander among their flesh and blood counterparts, dissolving into light at the slightest touch. For generations hunters have ventured to these Ghostglades to sharpen their skills and engage in sport year round, all without fear of damaging the local game populations. Whether the after effect of some long forgotten conjuration or, as many locals believe, the concession of a wild god to protect their beloved beloved children... the sight truly must be seen to be believed.

-A wanderer’s guidebook to the cities of the basilisk coast, 6th edition

Hooks:

While conducting business in the city of Amaranth, the party gives offence to some minor noble who challenges them to a duel.. though local custom differs greatly from what the party might be expecting. The Amaranthine nobles consider themselves to be peerless hunters, and so settle matters of dispute by determining who’s bow arm and spear hand is truest: riding through the ghostglade and its surrounding forest at high speeds while trying to tag as many of the phantom animals as possible. Since their quarry dissolves into light and mist after being struck, these riders are also followed by a pair of neutral judges who keep tally of the competitors’ kills, deducting points for unsportsmanlike behaviour.

A foreign priestess of Corellon has journeyed to the edge of the Ghostglade seeking answers and would gladly pay the party in escorting her further. Many of her order have debated about whether this magical patch of nature might be a working of their god and thus a worthy site of pilgrimage, though they’ve had only the generations old accounts of dead sages to mull over. Seeking the presence of her god, this priestess will have the party follow her as she seeks to find the natural temples of these meadowlands, or atleast places where they might be built. Her divinations do not bode well: no specific god seems to hold claim over these wilds, and reaching out to touch the land’s magic seems to make the phantom animals glitch out and become erratic.

Not long after their first trip out to the Ghostglades, the party are approached by a fur trader who claims his brother has gone missing. Their family came up as trappers specializing in the mundane beasts that made their home in the strange landscape, and though the two of them have moved on to bigger and better things, his brother still considers himself a prime outdoorsman. At the end of the trail, the party find a very badly wounded merchant’s brother who’s doing his best to not be spotted by an eerily silent pack of phantom humanoids, faceless, but armed with bows and spears and far more resilient than any of the other ghostly creatures they’ve seen.

There is an artifact in the dead centre of the Ghostglades, hidden in a rather out of the way cave, an alien cube of unplacable metal with a surface that shifts imperceptibly like a puzzlebox made of sand. What this object’s origins are, none can say, but its purpose is to understand, to observe and replicate animal life in real time by projecting hard-light holograms throughout the region in an attempt to build a model of their behaviour. However long the mechanism has been operating, it’s only been a few hundred years since the city of Amaranth was founded and people worked up the courage to start poofing its holograms for fun, disrupting its careful calculations. It’s taking the intervening years for the device’s un-mind to create a working model of what sort of animal a “hunter” is, having only recently concluded that they are entities that stalk, chase, ambush and kill anything that moves. Over the coming days, more and more of these projections will appear in the ghostglades, searching for interlopers, posing a definite threat to any who make their living off the surrounding meadowlands and forests.

183 notes · View notes

byshilane · 2 months

Text

23.04.10

What happens when two different gods seems to have a vest interest in what you do with your soul and it's technically supposed to be bound to a third completely different god.

#dnd character art #drow #elf #the luxon #lolth #corellon #by moon and starlight #my babes

11 notes · View notes

vspin · 4 months

Text

So, did Lolth rip off Corellon' symbol or?

#or were these designed at later points #lolth #i could see her being that petty #drow #corellon #dnd #forgotten realms

19 notes · View notes

alicelufenia · 2 months

Text

Introducing Vierae, my newest tav and the star of my next playthrough.

She's a drow from Menzoberranzan, former entertainer and assassin, now a budding cleric of Eilistraee and seeker of Corellon's favor. Her kidnapping aboard the nautiloid kicks off what will eventually come to be known to Eilistraee devotees across Faerûn as The Longest Run.

At a glance:

Name: Vierae Gysselylth (drow for "Dark Dancer", elven for "Clan of the Blade")

Race: Seldarine Drow (Ancestry: Udadrow)

Background: Guild Artisan

Class: Bard (College of Swords) / Cleric (Life Domain) / Rogue (Thief)

Alignment: Chaotic/Neutral Good

Motivation: Grant aide and succor to those who suffer; seek retribution on those who would conquer, enslave and slaughter; if accepted, entice other drow to walk with her, and offer shelter to all from the cruelty of Lolth and other wicked gods.

Also she's wearing Shadowheart's armor in that pic above cause for this playthrough I'm using the SH Concept Art and Arm Tattoo mods cause I think they look neat :)

The gear has some minor bonuses fitting a trickery cleric too, which is nice considering this is a tactician run and trickery domain will need all the help it can get until Act 2 stuff happens.

I'm meeting Larian halfway with their changes to drow lore regarding eye color. She is technically Seldarine but, growing up in the underdark for 100+ years means you kinda have to be lolth-sworn to survive. Not that the spider queen's favor ever got anywhere near her.

The left eye being pink is just me continuing my trend of giving all my trans characters heterochromia to represent the magical influence of fantasy hrt. Yeah, turns out growing up a super closeted trans girl as a male-born scion isn't easy, even if your house is minor in comparison to the big players.

A bit of backstory:

She was blessed from an early age with a rarity among the drow��the ability to dream. Though infrequent, her dreams were filled with images of the surface night sky, and the elegant figure of the Dark Dancer. She longed to visit, but no means were at her disposal other than unspeakable work in surface raiding parties, and the occasional assassin work. It was only by virtue of getting captured by an enclave of Eilistraeen worshippers who offered her succor and acceptance if she abandon her evil ways and accept the Silver Lady's invitation to dance among the stars and the trees.

Taking to her studies easily, she sought a place among the priesthood. Though at the time the clergy was opening up more freely to male worshippers, she learned quickly of the so-called "Changedance" that was practiced in earlier times, where as a rite of passage novice clerics would conduct a holy dance that transformed their body from male to female, and vice-versa. She practiced tirelessly, mastering the dance in short order, and upon seeing her reflection in the still waters of the river lit by the full moon, she beheld the Dark Dancer in her dreams; it was her all along. Her true self.

She wept for the first time in her life.

Naturally, she enjoyed staying in the Changedance's form for longer than any of her male cleric peers. While the temporary reprieve was satisfying, she sought more permanent options. Her artisan upbringing proved valuable, as she learned from several of her fellow priestesses how to concoct the alchemical medicines that can change the body's shape and feel to reflect who they are in their heart. While not a complete transformation, her ability to fill out a bra and entice the gaze of young men (and not a few women) have been encouraging.

Dedicated to the Eilistraeen cause of harmony amongst the peoples of Toril, Vierae has been on many runs, to rescue underdark drow who sought escape from the grasp of Lolth's cult, to defending surface settlements from the very lolth-sworn raiding parties she was once a reluctant part of. Yet everywhere, what good faith they can harbor in non-drow communities soon sours as old suspicions and base prejudices re-assert themselves.

Seeking another way, Vierae has conducted extensive research on the worship of Corellon, sire to her Dark Lady, and ruler of all elves. If she could only entreat the teachings of Eilistraee to a few open-minded communities of elves, they may yet find wider acceptance. Thus she was in the process of a pilgrimage to petition Corellon's blessing, when the nautiloid snatched her up.

And as Astarion said, "First thing's first." She can save no one until she's saved herself, but that won't stop her from trying at every opportunity along the way. Her pilgrimage has led her to the Risen Road, and Baldur's Gate is the ultimate destination, where she either shows herself to be worthy of the gods' favor, or prove those who fear her to be right.

Inspiration for this Tav: @mass-effect-galaxy's Eilistraee Sword Dancer (general protagonist motivations, plus the hair was so good)

HoboZone's Dancer of Eilistraee Remastered Build (for the dual worship of Eilistraee and Corellon reflected in a dual wielder build)

Modlist:

No More Looping VFX And SFX

SK's More CC Colours

Shadowheart's Tattoos

Asymmetrical Shadowheart Concept Outfit

Shibariwaluigi's NPC Hair Edits

Two-Handed Longsword Finesse - mostly just to have a longsword as main arms until picking up dual wielder and Phalar Aluve

Bard Fixes And Tweaks - just to bring ranged flourishes down to melee's level, since this character's RP demands using melee whenever possible

More Reactive Companions - since this is a second playthrough I wanted to hear from the companions more, and swap to them so they can have the spotlight now and again.

Phalar Aluve - Legendary - adds combine items in Acts 2 and 3 to upgrade Phalar Aluve to a Very Rare and Legendary version.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #my tav #oc: vierae #drow tav #bg3 drow #drow #trans oc #I need to bite the bullet and continue with my current playthrough #Minthara bugs be damned I wanna finish the gaaaaame ;_;#eilistraee #corellon #queue

11 notes · View notes

cocoa-sans-art-and-blog · 2 months

Text

D&D Deity Redesigns

Based off headcanons and I treat them more like my own personal OCs cause their lore is all over the place so I have created my own version but it’s not written out

Lolth

Goddess of drow, spiders, chaos, and assassins

Formerly Araushnee, goddess of dark elves, destiny, and artisans | Was also married to Corellon

Corellon

God of elves, magic, music, arts, crafts, and warfare | Was married to Araushnee

Corellon technically has nothing to do with butterflies according to canon but I thought it would be fun to associate him with some sort of insect since Lolth is associated with spiders. I don’t plan on making my own design for Sehanine but I associate her with lunar moths since she’s the goddess of the moon.

Sorry for disappearing for what- a year now? Idk how long it’s been lol BUT I hope you all enjoy the art

Anyway, if you’re interested in my headcanon version of their lore, don’t be afraid to ask any questions about it! Also I hope to make these kinds of redesign refs for Vhaeraun and Shevarash cause I’m kinda hyperfixated on them at the moment as well as these two but idk if I’ll ever get around to that

#my art #art #dnd5e #dnd art #dungeons and dragons #dnd deity #corellon #lolth #corellon larethian #dndcharacter #greater deity #lesser deity #redesign #design #character design #headcanon

6 notes · View notes

ritelli-main · 2 months

Text

Two flavors of religious trauma - bound to fall in love 💕

Faeryl belongs to @princefleabitten / Meme by pocl_v

#personal art #enemies to lovers #enemies meme #dnd #bg3 #ttrpg #oc: faeryl #oc: frippery #half drow #dnd drow #corellon #dungeons and dragons #the wild beyond the witchlight #out of the abyss #elves #doodle

6 notes · View notes

mythicmint · 5 months

Text

A Treatise Regarding the Myth of the So-Called "Dark Seldarine" and the Misguided Interpretation of the Drow by Surface Dwellers

This is a continuation of my previous post, which can be found here!

A Treatise Regarding the Myth of the So-Called “Dark Seldarine” and the Misguided Interpretation of Drow by Surface Dwellers (pt. 2, the Mythos)

The Mythology

Introductory Note

In Gwierante tellings, the origins of the elven deities have the same foundations as those told in Seldarine tellings, but with significant deviation between the two as the stories go on. In the following segment of recounted myths, I have done my best to combine stories from all branches of drow faith, so as to remain true to shared view. It can easily be noted however that these myths are likely biased– my aim in this regard is not to tell a historically accurate version of the events so much as it is to tell it from the drow’s perspective. As an author I would also note that gods are multifaceted beings, to a point that mortals cannot fathom. It is possible that all or none of the following mythos is true. Reflected in these following stories one can also see frequent lessons told to drow children by their matrons, as is often the same in the myths of other cultures. In terms of the writing, there is another point I shall make for clarity: as a deity of fluidity, Corellon is referred to using he/they pronouns. In our modern time many faithful also reference the god with feminine pronouns, but the Coronal of Arvandor seems to have favored male pronouns when Araushnee was his consort, which this author assumes was out of appreciation for their duality as a pair.

Birth of the Pantheon

While much is untold and kept secret regarding the history of the gods, it is generally agreed upon within elvenkind that Corellon was the first among the Seldarine. Just as each day begins with the rising of the sun, so too did the pantheon begin with the birth of Corellon. The Sun Lord comprised every aspect of elves that are known today; their fluidity, their wisdom, their pride, their arrogance. In these aspects, the god came into frequent conflict with Gruumsh, who opposed them in all things. (The author would like to note here that some splinter beliefs place Corellon and Gruumsh as two sides of a coin– they were made to oppose each other, but at the same time cannot be fulfilled without the challenge of the other.) In this time before time, the deities’ battles spanned the planes of existence, both wounding the other infrequently. From the spilled ichor of Gruumsh and Corellon sprung the primal orcs and elves, from which in turn the Orc and Seldarine pantheons ascended. Corellon and Gruumsh, when not locked in one of their many combats, engaged with their new fellows, and grew to know them as equals.

These new deities were vast in their appearances, shaped by the lands that they had sprung from. The newly-fledged Lady of the Stars, called Araushnee by the Seldarine, had been born from obsidian and ruby. Corellon was struck by her beauty, and took her as his consort. In time Araushnee bore him twins– the gods Eilistraee and Vhaeraun, who were kept safe in their mother’wws sacred grove whilst their father roamed. The Sun Lord saw in his consort a counterpart to their own being; an Artisan to their Warrior, the Night to his Day. But this reflection was not perfect– the Artist was far cleverer compared to Corellon, and her eight crimson eyes saw more of reality than her consort could in their arrogance. Not long after her ascension, The Lady of Stars saw in her domain the beginnings of the settings of destiny– fixed and unabating. Araushnee thought these unchanging foundations cruel for such fluid beings as the gods, and pulled from the stars these trappings of fate. But upon their sharp points she pricked her fingers, and these droplets of blood fell to the Earth. Araushnee was an artist, and in her wisdom she wove the lines of fate into a silken web, fragile enough to be changed, but strong enough to ensnare beings within it. With this the goddess ensured that though the tides of destiny were fluid, none could avoid its ceaseless pull– not even her. And from those fallen droplets of her ichor were birthed the first spiders, who learned from their mother how to weave webs, and how to walk along them in turn. With the Web of Fate now established, Araushnee could walk its threads and view time as it stretched infinitely before and behind her. In these woven futures the Artisan foresaw the creation of beings that were the children of the Seldarine, fluid in shape and passionate in mind. From these brief glimpses the goddess grew fond of these not-yet-made creations and their fleeting mortal lives, and resolved to work to bring them about. It is also said that in this moment, Araushnee saw the strength that these beings would bring to the Seldarine, and this strengthened her resolve. The Lady of Stars knew that she could not do it on her own; she saw the disfavor other members of the Seldarine held her in due to her status as Corellon’s consort, and in turn knew that without the Sun Lord’s support, it was likely that the creations would be loved only by her. And so the Weaver went to the Warrior, and told him of the long-eared figures she had foreseen. Corellon saw his consort’s enthusiasm, and was in turn impacted by the idea of having more effect in the material world through these beings. The First of the Seldarine told Araushnee that he would visit the world and consider her request in time. In her enthusiasm, the Artisan waited with bated breath, biding her time as Corellon was away.

Creation of the Elves

Finally, Araushnee, along with her twins, was summoned to Toril. When they arrived they were greeted by the remainder of the Seldarine, congregated at the edge of a forest. Out of the stand of trees strode Corellon, and from behind moving shapes followed him into the light. They were tall and slender, made in the Sun Lord’s image, and Corellon introduced them as elves, children of his inspiration. He had made them long of life and bright of eye, formed from morning light, and the Seldarine received them with joy. But the Weaver stood in shock at her consort’s betrayal. These creatures, formed from the Sun Lord’s brilliance and will, were not the same she had seen. Corellon had demented Araushnee’s vision and passion, and taken only the traits that pleased him, ridding the world of the richness it craved. The Lady of Stars seethed with rage that she had not previously known. The Coronal of Arvandor’s arrogance had gone too far.

Araushnee sequestered herself from the other deities of the Seldarine, preoccupied as they were with their new sun elves. From the banks of the stream that ran through her grove, the Artisan took cool water and dark clay, and from the trees in her forest she took pale bark and copper leaves. She cupped these items in her hands and warmed them with her divine starlight, breathing life into them in turn. And then from each the Artisan’s clever fingers formed figures– eight elves from each source, so that none of them would be alone. From the cool water was born the sea elves, adapted to live in the flowing waters of the world. From the pale silvered bark came the moon elves, flexible as the wood they were made from. From the copper leaves came the wood elves, who shone in both the sunlit and wooded places of the world. All of these elves, Araushnee had foreseen in her original vision, and had spoken of them to her consort. But just as Corellon had made the sun elves in his bright image, so too did Araushnee make elves in her dark one. From clay the Weaver formed the dark elves, with skin of stone and hair of starlight. All of the creatures she had made were fond of her, and she of them, with particular affection held in the dark elves for their starlit creator. The Artisan sent her creations out into the world so that they might choose their own fates, but the dark elves remained close to Araushnee and her children, watching and learning from these gods in turn. The Lady of the Stars’ vision had been more than fulfilled– elves now walked the land, intrinsically tied to the pantheon and the plane that had made them.

But all was not yet well in Arvandor– Corellon saw his consort’s creations and flew into a prideful rage. How dare Araushnee have the gall to create beings that demented the image that he had perfected? How dare these new elves mingle with his sunlit elves and dampen their beauty? In their rage, Corellon turned his combatant’s spirit inward, towards his consort and her wrongdoings against the Coronal. The angered Corellon called the Seldarine pantheon to meeting, and demanded Araushnee’s explanation for her insolence. It is not known by mortals what was said on that day. Some accounts state that Araushnee accused Corellon of corruption, while others say that she begged for her consort’s forgiveness, and while more yet say that the Weaver stayed silent entirely. What is for certain is this: with the borders to the divine realm of Arvandor unguarded with Corellon’s light turned inward, the deity Gruumsh broke through on a warpath.

The Blinding of Gruumsh

The battle that took place after is a legend that holds fast across dozens of different faiths of various races: the Blinding of Gruumsh. The orc god and Corellon were locked in battle for anywhere between hours and weeks on end, each blow matched one for one. This battle was the true culmination of the conflict between the warrior gods, and may have gone on forever if not for misfortune rearing its head. Sahndrian– the sunlit sword of the Coronal– shattered. Elven myth states that Araushnee cursed the sheath in her anger, while Gweriante myth grants the goddess no such association, but nevertheless, Corellon’s trusted blade broke. The Sun Lord was forced to retreat so that he might use his bow, but Gruumsh would not surrender his advantage. While Sehanine Moonbow, having been assisting Corellon with illusions, worked to repair the blade, the Orc Lord struck out with his great spear Nairdnhas, its tip dripping with paralytic poison. Yet Gruumsh’s strike never landed– Araushnee, panicked, pulled upon the Web and forced Nairdnhas to strike its master. Gruumsh was paralyzed by his own weapon, waylaid by Araushnee’s clever strike. The First of the Seldarine seized the opportunity and stabbed the Orc Lord through the arm with an arrow. In his struggle to block the attack Gruumsh failed to notice the dagger still held in his hand, and gouged out his own eye. With this, Corellon won the battle, stumbling back to the Seldarine while Gruumsh retreated in pain.

Yet despite Araushnee’s aid, Corellon was enraged. They accused their consort of betrayal, stating that her rebellion against him was nothing more than a distraction, so that Gruumsh might break in and slaughter Corellon and their new creations. Araushnee denied this, as she could not foresee Gruumsh, nor could he foresee her, as their powers canceled out the other. But Corellon did not hear her, perhaps could not– wounded and exhausted as they were from battle, addled with the setting of the sun, he accused the Artisan of treachery of the highest order. The Warrior believed that just as the Weaver had forced Nairdnhas to strike against Gruumsh, so too had she broken Sahndrian. She had planned for Corellon to be killed, so that she and her new elves might rule Arvandor. In his rage the Warrior went to strike her, much to the Seldarine’s shock. But his attack did not hit the Lady of the Stars– it struck Vhaeraun, who had leapt between his mother and the blow. The attack sliced across the Lord of Shadow’s face, marring it forevermore. As her son stumbled back from the blow, Araushnee felt anger boil inside of her once more. She would not let anyone touch her children in anger without punishment, not even the First of the Seldarine. Though inexperienced in combat, the Weaver lunged for her consort, meeting him blow for blow, dancing along the strands of the Web as her advantage. It is believed in Gwierante faith that Araushnee would have won this battle due to her having the upper hand, if not for the treachery of the Seldarine goddesses. It was known to the Lady of Stars that Corellon had dallied with other goddesses– Sehanine Moonbow, Aerdrie Faenya, and Hanali Celanil. Never had the Sun Lord been faithful to her or to them, but in that moment of combat the three goddesses combined their wills in a way that had been unforeseen. From this union sprung the triune goddess Angharradh, who in her great power stole from Araushnee her dominion over the Stars, and her place as Corellon’s consort. With her appearance the Weaver faltered, and her advantage was lost.

With the newly restored Sahndrian in hand and his new Queen by his side, Corellon declared Araushnee unfit to remain a goddess of the Seldarine. From her they tore her name and dominions, and the Weaver was banished from Arvandor. Corellon, betrayer that he was, struck the Artisan and mortally wounded her legs so that she might never again walk the threads of the Web, citing her treachery as reason for the blow. Banished from her home and from Corellon’s light, the goddess fled to the depths of the Underdark, where the sun could not reach her.

The Banished and Betrayed

Bleeding and barely mobile in the bowels of the earth, the Artisan mourned what she had lost, weeping for her identity and for the people who had once been her family. Her cries drove away the dark creatures that resided beneath the ground, who feared the wounded wails that sounded akin to death knells. The Weaver stumbled deep underground, trailing her divine blood behind her. But eventually she could go no further– her legs, wounded as they had been, would carry her no more. The Artisan could not walk the Web as she had before, and cried out in pain and fury. But all was not yet lost– for the goddess was the Mother of Spiders, and her husband had cast out her arachnid creations along with her. So too had he cast out their children. Vhaeraun was banished for his betrayal, and Eilistraee begged for the Coronal to banish her, so that she might bring light to the dark that they would soon reside in. In his fondness for his silver daughter, Corellon granted the request. Practitioners of Gwierante faith attest that this is the one mercy the Sun Lord granted the pantheon. The Shadow Lord and Dark Maiden followed the trail of their mother’s ichor, carrying with them her sacred spiders. When they arrived their Mother was nearly dead, her blood staining the surrounding stone. But the first spiders acted quickly– they bound the Artisan’s wounds in webs, and gave unto her their own forms to mimic whilst she healed. The Mother of Spiders was touched by the kindness of her creations, and accepted from them their legs so that she might walk the strands of fate once more. As she rose again, now with the body of a spider, she took on a new name, one that she saw in the mouths of her worshippers in a time not yet past. The Weaver named herself Lolth, and declared her dominion over the Underdark, where she would shelter any who could not remain in Corellon’s light. Her children allied with her, Vhaeraun claiming dominion over the dark places, where those banished from sunlight would reside, and Eilistraee claiming dominion over the moon, opposite of Corellon’s sun. They called themselves the Gweirante, and so it was.

Descent of the Drow

In terms of history on a godly scale, the Descent of the Drow is a rather recent event. Occurring only thirteen thousand years ago, this event was preceded by the Crown Wars fought between neighboring elven kingdoms. Several disasters racked the world during the magically charged Crown Wars, culminating in an event that destroyed the dark elf kingdom of Miyeritar in the area now called the High Moor. The kingdom of Ilythiir, enraged by the damage delivered to their fellow dark elves, began to use dangerous magic in an attempt to get their revenge on the kingdom responsible, Aryvaandar. For centuries war raged back and forth between the two kingdoms, until the prayers of Aryvaandar were answered. Corellon Latherian, in order to save his high elven kingdom, cursed the dark elves to be stung and weakened by his sunlight. Hurt and afraid, the drow (as they were now called, unmoored from Corellon as they were) retreated en masse to the Underdark in less than two months. But Aryvaandar and the Sun Lord were not yet done. With the drow underground, the Warrior assisted the elves of Aryvaandar in casting a ritual that bound their race to the Underdark, permanently. The Curse of the Dark Elves, as it is known, forced the magical life force of the drow to be tied to the lingering faezress that remains only in hostile areas of the subterranean realm. From then on the drow were forced to adapt to this harsh environment, and were welcomed with open arms by Lolth, the goddess that had first made them. Embraced once again by the Lady of the Underdark, the drow found comfort in her Web of Fate, leading them successfully through the dangerous environment until they could find their footing.

Closing Notes

The drow, as a culture, are oftentimes motivated by what they perceive as an owed debt to the Gwierante. To be imprisoned in a dark and hostile environment, hated for the crimes of your ancestors, is the fate of the drow. But by their strength and by the blessings of their deities, the drow have not just survived, but thrived. In our modern day where more and more drow fight their way through the sunlight, it is more important than ever for surface world races to understand the history driving drow beliefs and culture. This author has tried to share even a small portion of these beliefs, and solemnly thanks you for reading, whether or not you agree with them.

May the darkness shelter you,

Dr Iraezyr dal Linthrae von Do’ Iryn

For whoever read this far, congrats you're a champ lol and this post and last was 17 pages combined. Gold star from me, and thanks for reading! I'd love to answer questions if folks have any :))

#dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #dnd worldbuilding #dnd drow #drow #lolth #corellon #dark seldarine #gwierante #dnd homebrew #homebrew lore

8 notes · View notes

missrosiewolf · 1 year

Text

WAIT

HOLD UP IT JUST OCCURRED TO ME

Pre-fall, according to Evermeet: Island of Elves, Vhaeraun and Eilistraee were living with their mom in her grove. Were they born there? Or did she take them with her when she moved to the grove? Did she raise them there? Was she their primary caregiver as they were growing up?

How active of a parent was Corellon? Did “he” only pay attention to Eilistraee (who is stated to be “his” favorite child)? How often did the kiddos spend time with their dad when they were living in the grove with their mom? How often did they even see “him”?

Did the four of them ever even live together?

#forgotten realms #dungeons & dragons #dnd #corellon #Corellon larethian #lolth #vhaeraun #eilistraee #so many questions and all I have are theories #nothing concrete that can be backed up by lore

38 notes · View notes

willohwitch · 8 months

Text

New crescent moon rosary commission inspired by their interpretation of Corellon from dnd !!

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌖🌗🌘🌑

#corellon #jewelry #small artist #aesthetic #moon aesthetic #catholic aesthetic #my art #moonstone #dnd art #dnd #dnd 5e art

7 notes · View notes

aspiringfictionwriter · 9 months

Text

A Light in the Darkness: Chapter Thirty

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of death, swearing, mentions of drinking, brief mentions of prostitution (consuming), (please notify if these need to be changed)

Enjoy! Next chapter on Wednesday as per the usual!

Ezili grinned as she felt the wind whip against her crimson face, allowing her tail to flow with the pace of the breeze as the smell of the ocean overcame her, humming to herself as her hands gripped onto the wheel, tapping her thumbs against it to hold the beat of the tune. She sang the lyrics in her head as her tail bounced happily with a mind of its own, stabbing the air with sharp jabs of its spade-shaped tip to join in the melody, although the whoosh it caused in the air was overpowered by the sound of the waves brushing against the hull of her ship.

With her left hand she held onto the wheel, while on the other she held onto her hat that fit a little big on her head, as it was once her dad’s before he had given up the grandeur sailing for the simple life of fishing to keep a better eye on her grandmama and mom, rightfully proving that he had named the ship after his wife, Art’s Paradise. Ironically deceiving many that it was some sort of smuggling ship, for they had been met with some authorities in certain docks to search the ship for the strange title, but in truth it was used for transportation. A cross-continental express, of sorts.

Many a traveler had ventured onto the Art’s Paradise to get to locations all over the world, from Wildemount, to the Greenwald, to even the land of Krynn, and due to the strain that it can prove on an unskilled captain, their crew, and their ship, there are very few docks that offer such a wonderful service for adventurers, and not at an easy price, either. Ezili’s ship was one of the smaller ones, but one of the more well-known, due to the fact that it had been running for about six generations of her family, several ships of the same model and different names, if one was perfectly honest.

Another renowned part of the Art’s Paradise’s reputation was the kindness of the crew, each man and woman having a smile on their face as they did their work, the bond between them strong and unbreakable, something Ezili was proud to boast of when they took their breaks at the taverns to get themselves some good food and drink and restock on their supplies. Was there ever a captain that didn’t choose to brag of the competence and skill of their crew? Surely not!

It would be far more different if they were pirates, that Ezili was sure, although they had been accused of such a heinous thing only a few times due to certain rumors circulating about her and an accident that she had been exposed to when she had been sailing on a fishing boat with a family friend in the ocean. And whether or not they were true was something she chose to keep to herself, and allow some drama to circulate around the tight-knit community of her crew to add something to spice things up upon the waves. After all, that was where they found their homes, and who would not expect drama in a home?

As for the tale that was told, she was sixteen, only four years younger than how old she was at the present, and a storm had been brewing for some time, but a quick fishing venture was needed to feed the family, so they all took the risk. This was foolish, everyone knew this, but hunger makes you do brash things, and as such the storm foretold struck them, the waves becoming hard and rough, the rush was manageable until a wave of great volume had buried them beneath the water.

Ezili had been the only one who had emerged from the water alive and well, the two others who had joined her rotting in the bottom of the ocean, as well as the fishing boat they had taken. However, that was where the controversy had begun, for some said that she had been strong enough to swim against the storm to find salvation in a nearby cove the rest of the village knew very well, while others said that she had killed her uncle and elder cousin and threw both them and the boat beneath the surface.

However, neither were correct, for the tiefling had been met with something far different beneath the waves, and arguably much more mysterious, perhaps terrifying to some. For when Ezili expected to lose her last breath, she found herself cease movement and instead to be balanced by some form of bubble being balanced and moved by a school of minos that seemed to turn towards another smaller cave that was found in the water itself.

And emerging from it was a beautiful woman with a long fin where her feet would have been with skin that almost blended into the water around her figure, piercing red eyes that seemed to gaze directly into Ezili’s own soul with both an intimidating and kind air about them. She introduced herself as the Siren Queen, and that she desired for her to live despite the wreck, and that, in exchange for the tiefling’s loyalty, she would help her to the surface and allow Ezili to live again upon the surface.

This was how she not only received some magical talent that seemed somewhat catered to the life upon the waves, something she was not quite complaining about, but she also had become the proud owner of a little azure pseudodragon that she had named Harpoon, who flew above the ship by day, slept with her by night, and watched the people board the boat by noontime every month-and-a-half or so. He was a loyal little guy, who kept her company when she craved the feeling of home, wishing that summer would end sooner.

Ezili felt her grin rise higher on her face as she felt spray hit her face, wild pupiless green eyes closing as the water threatened to fly into them, and when her eyelids fluttered open, to her joy, she saw land nearby, as well as their docking station. Opening her mouth as she called to her crew, most who were below her, but nonetheless they could hear her, “Alrighty, guys, we’re bound for Faerun! Fly the colors, and prepare your bellies for a square meal tonight!”

A cheer erupted through the deck, and Ezili saw one of her men running below deck to spread the news while the rest of the men and women on deck began to do their jobs. The lookouts swung themselves back onto the masts to supervise their apprentices, while the stronger crew members began to pull on the ropes on the sails to steer with the wind at their backs. Some stood on the polls that supported the sails as they brought up their own specific flags, something that surely displayed them as the Art’s Paradise.

As they did their work, one of the half-orcs in the crew, Poggy, led them in a shanty familiar to them, his voice ringing through the entire ship as everyone worked to the beat with a grin on their face. Ezili smiled as she clapped and twirled to the beat, calling for Harpoon to hold onto the wheel for her as she slid down the banister of the steps leading up to her podium, joining the group of the crew that was flying the colors of the ship in tying the proper knots to keep them steady and flying against the sharp breeze.

“Thanks, boss!” The halfling in charge chirped, a smile on his face as he stomped his small foot to the beat of the shanty, hands on his hips, sweat trickling down his face.

Ezili took off her captain’s hat to present it to him, bowing with her opposing hand folded behind her back, crossing her legs slightly as she stood, “My pleasure, Mick! You owe me a beer tonight, lad!” The two of them chuckled as she returned her hat to her head, winking as she climbed her way back up the stairs to the wheel, Harpoon mounting himself back onto her shoulder.

The tiefling rubbed her temples exasperatedly as she sat herself against the base of the mast, taking small bites out of an apple as she did so, her tail curling around it to find some form of material stability from her pounding hangover, something she knew would disperse by the time they set off for the Greenwald, but even with that reassurance, it didn’t mean Ezili needed to like it. It was well known that each crew member should leave each other to their own business before they set sail on account for the shared effects of their action the night before.

Some saw their man or woman in the porttown’s brothel, something the tiefling did every time they docked somewhere, because even she needed an activity to get her stress out besides partying just a bit with the people on her ship and the residents that saw her and her mates as nuisances. Ezili made sure to hire the same guy each time, and despite the reason that the two of them were together, they had become some form of friends over the past two years. Frankly, that happened with all the men she hired in other continents, too, it was just the kind of person she was.

Ezili took another bite out of her apple, closing her eyes as she leaned her head further back against the mast, before hearing Harpoon call to her with his strangely sophisticated voice with the use of their magical connection, the small dragon looking directly at her as he circled the boat with hawk-like eyes despite his draconic heritage.

“A woman just snuck in through the back of the ship using the ropes hanging off the hull– something you need to fix, I might add–,” he began facetiously, “oh yeah, and now she’s gone below deck. You might want to deal with that, who knows, she might be a smuggler?”

Ezili rolled her eyes as she stood up, taking the final bite out of her apple before she tossed it into the ocean from the side of the ship that was not facing the dock, rolling her eyes as she looked directly at her companion, “She better not be garbling our shit. Thanks, bud.” Adjusting her hat on her head, she opened the door that led below deck, her steps light so as to catch the culprit without allowing her to escape.

Below deck, as usual, smelled like damp wood and ale, the slight creaking of the ship in the water was far more evident closer to the sea than it was above deck, a place that Ezili typically frequented more, and the stairs were small and steep despite the builder’s best efforts to make it more accessible to large-footed men. For her, it wasn’t much of an issue, but there had been many times that one of her crew had fallen down them, and she had to use a bit of magic to fix them up so as to keep things running smoothly.

It was something a bit humorous in her mind, the fact that almost every person that she found herself faced with would remark to the fabrications that surrounded her, for them to stop running their tongues when they realized the magic she held actually gave aid to those who needed it. Of course, even her crew began with their own mistrust of her due to the rumors, although their fears fizzled away the moment they found themselves well taken care of in the hands of a captain that was worth a damn thing.

Allegedly, some captains forbade drinking when some were off duty, and instead managed to get their hands on clear water to force the crew to drink, instead of allowing the people beneath them, and even themselves, a good time! Ezili thought this preposterous, as every mariner she had ever met had always managed to enjoy a tankard of beer when they were below deck, and, in fact, when those above deck just sat around on a windless day, she’d let them have at least one! Perhaps that was the wonders of youth, for that was all the nonsense she heard whenever she did something that was even a smidge out of the orthodox.

On the topic of beer, the small little room where they held their casks was the first place Ezili intended to search, as it was directly across from the end of the staircase in the narrow hallway that later opened up into a larger common room with a kitchen to the side. She had to be relatively fast so as to not worry the people of her crew, as well as to remain close to the schedule she had set for the journey itself, which was imperative when one was traveling across some of the largest seas in all of the world. If that trespasser caused her to get off of schedule, she’d personally call for her deep six.

Opening the door of the first room, she enjoyed the smell of the fresh casks they had brought in from some adventures the previous night, but only for a brief moment before she heard the unmistakable sound of labored breaths and disconnected sobs making themselves known despite the obvious effort the source made to keep them as conspicuous as humanly possible, to no avail. Ezili paused for a moment as she closed the door very quietly, for she heard a soft melody coming from her trespasser, only in a language she had never once heard before. And despite this, she was certain that it was the best music she had ever heard, even if she was only muttering the lyrics.

Treading carefully to the source of the song, Ezili called with a skeptical undertone in her voice to the trespasser, “Y’know, you’ve got a good voice but that doesn’t mean you’re excused from paying my fee!” She heard a brief rustle of clothes followed by the creak of the floorboards as she rounded the corner to face her interloper, and she almost felt herself jump back from surprise, perhaps even a bit of fear, for what she saw was not normal.

Not that any trespasser in general wasn’t contrary to the norm, but this one was a drow, a drow woman no less! Ezili knew little of their culture, but all she knew was that their matriarchs were fearsome and as violent as the murderous underground race could be. And now one was on her ship.

Although, she didn’t look like the average picturesque that any drow woman would pertain, for she had bloodshot eyes as violet as the sunset on a night before a storm, which were wide and glassy from tears, as if she felt mournful and daunted, something that seemed peculiar to her. Weren’t drow women indomitable and unbreakable? Or perhaps was it an act to sway her from kicking her off of her ship? However, it seemed like her tears were genuine, either from the sun or from something that had occurred to her in getting to where she was now.

The woman curled herself further into the corner of the room, making herself seem far smaller than she actually was, her arms wrapped into each other as she turned her eyes away from the sailor. She muttered something in her strange language, undercommon, Ezili thought it was called, and it briefly occurred to her that perhaps she knew how to speak elvish, and as such would be able to communicate with her. Her father was a half-elf, after all.

Taking another hesitant step, she reached her hands out to represent her honest intentions, and in her very poor elvish accent, Ezili managed to rekindle the flame of knowledge she had for some of her heritage. “Elvish? Are you… can you speak this? I don’t want to hurt you.”

She was met with the same lavender eyes again, and, with a ghost of a smile lining her ashen face before she straightened her back out a bit to look at the tiefling, who decided to join her on the ground, “T-thank you. You’re the first person to give me a chance since I got up here.” she paused, rubbing her face with her sleeve, and for a split second, Ezili saw dried blood underneath her nails and on her fingertips, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you take me to the Greenwald?”

Ezili furrowed her eyebrows in surprise as she brought her head back for a moment, scratching her head, her tail curing itself into her lap, “Er, what? I barely know you and you want me to take you to a different continent for free…?” She saw the drow wince, “I mean like, ‘yay second chances,’ but you’ve gotta be able to pay off what you’re not paying for. No murdery drow things, either, if you please.”

The woman chuckled to herself for a moment, “Of course. But can I know your name? I’m Arachne. Don’t worry, I don’t, uh, worship Lolth.” She sighed, balling herself up again, “That didn’t sound convincing. Please trust me.”

She sounded defeated, perhaps even deflated, this Arachne, and, despite her race’s morbidly infamous dealings with, well, everything, Ezili felt remorse for her, coupled by a sudden urge to offer her aid. It was a push of her morals, and she knew this, although she never strayed away from such things, for her very existence was the cause of a pull at her ideals, and it appeared as if such dilemmas were just thrown at her willy-nilly by fate’s hands. Perhaps that of the Siren Queen’s, if she was lucky, that is. The tiefling was not averse to letting her destiny lie on chance, and this drow elf’s case seemed to be pulling at both ends of her body.

One end told her no, told her to kick the elf off her ship, while the other demanded her to show mercy to the pitiful woman curled up across from her on her own ship. She made the rules, right? Then why couldn’t she breach this one tiny one that may or may not get her into deep trouble with her crew. However, it was then that she deducted a perfect plan.

“I’m Ezili. In fact, I’m in charge here, so I’ll get to decide what you do to pay off your ticket debt!” She grinned, and she saw a smile teasing at Arachne’s lips once again as well, something that seemed to make her smile even wider, “I heard you singing, so how about you sing for my crew during the journey? You’ve got a lovely voice, and I’m sure the rest of the world should hear it.” Ezili paused for a moment before clapping her hands together excitedly as she suddenly felt another splendid idea crawl into her head, “I’ve got a shanty you can learn! That would be so much fun! A shanty in elvish! And I thought I’d seen it all!”

Arachne seemed to draw herself further into the corner from her energy, a small smile on her face even as Ezili continued to ramble about elvish sea shanties, so much so that the captain barely heard the drow elf squeak an affirming, “I don’t see why not. Thank you, Ezili.”

_____________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!

6 notes · View notes